Rising, Peter glared at Ewan and his uncle. “Second chances?” He shook his head. “I’ll never give anyone a chance to hurt me again. If you helped teach me anything, Uncle, it’s that people always prove unworthy of my trust.” He stormed out the back door, striding in the direction of the livery, as he fumed about the day’s events in town.
Chapter 2
After a long silent ride back to the ranch, where Peter remembered little about the passing scenery and where his thoughts tormented and taunted him, he was relieved to return to the ranch. To what he realized he would always consider home. However, he knew the day’s work was not completed.
Peter walked into the barn behind Frederick, understanding that his youngest brother needed Peter’s support and allegiance, as Frederick now confronted the man who had always been like an uncle to them. However, Peter knew the agony Frederick felt was much more acute, as Peter had opted to spend the majority of his time away from the ranch. With a glower, Peter shook his head at Dalton and Shorty to prevent them from interfering, as Frederick made a beeline for his foreman, Slims.
“This is how you repay loyalty?” Frederick hissed, as he approached the giant of a man called Slims. Although Frederick and Peter were tall, strong, broad-shouldered men at over six feet tall, Slims stood nearly half a foot taller, with the shoulders to match.
Peter watched as Slims tensed, as the muscles in his arms flexed, before he forced them to relax. “Frederick. Boss,” he murmured in a deferential manner. “It ain’t what you think.”
“Don’t tell me what I think,” Frederick snapped. “Don’t presume to lecture me on friendship, when you’ve only shown me treachery.”
Slims thrust his shoulders back and clamped his jaw tight, as he flinched at Frederick’s words. However, he didn’t protest his innocence.
Peter took a step forward, his blue eyes filled with incredulity. “After all this time, when you’ve finally been found out, you’ll not even ask for forgiveness?” He snorted with derision, as he looked at Slims before speaking to his brother. “I told you that he should never be trusted to be the foreman.”
“And why not?” Shorty demanded. He was one of the few ranch hands who lived on the ranch year-round and was Slims’s best friend. At barely five foot tall, he was the opposite of Slims in appearance in every way. However, he’d always shared the traits of loyalty and honor with his best friend. “You’re an idiot if you’ve allowed someone to fill your mind with meaningless prattle.” He backed up a bit when Peter growled at him, taking a menacing step in his direction.
“Don’t, Shorty,” Slims said in a soft voice. “I’ve earned their wrath. I hope they come to understand what I did was out of loyalty.”
Peter spun to gape at Slims, while Frederick’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “Loyalty?” Frederick shook his head in disgust. “You don’t know the meaning of the word. Uncle said, if she hadn’t run off with him, she would have run off with another. Would it have been you? Do you take what isn’t yours because you pined for any contact with her?”
Slims clenched his fists at the question, his muscles quivering, as though he yearned to pummel something. However, he remained in control and stared at Frederick with an infinite sadness. “No, Fred. It wasn’t like that. Although I expect it looks bad to you.”
Frederick strode up to the man, who had been like a second father to him, his blue eyes shining with devastation. “And I expect you to be gone by morning.”
“Frederick, no!” Shorty said, as Dalton gasped in horror.
Slims rocked back a step, Frederick’s words affecting him more than a blow ever could.
“Anyone who has trouble with how I run the ranch is free to leave,” Frederick snapped, his cheeks reddened and his eyes ire-filled. When the other ranch hands remained silent, Frederick nodded, storming from the barn.
Peter paused, staring for a long moment at the stunned man who had just lost his job as foreman. “I never thought you’d betray us, Slims,” he said in a low, mournful whisper. “How could you ever choose her …” His voice broke, and his eyes shone with pain. He shook his head.
“One day, Peter, you’ll discover I didn’t,” Slims said in a low voice. He shared a long look with the eldest Tompkins brother, before Peter spun to follow his brother inside.
Slims entered the small cabin he shared with his wife, Davina, pausing as he saw her humming, while she rocked in her favorite chair. Her long blond hair was tied in a loose braid, and she glowed with contentment, her hands resting on her growing belly. The windows were open, letting in the early evening breeze. “Dav,” he whispered, clearing his throat.
She turned to smile at him, her joyful greeting faltering at his somber countenance. “Love?” she whispered. “What’s wrong? Is someone ailin’?”
He shook his head, crossing the room in a few short steps to kneel in front of her. He rested his head in her lap and let out a groan. “I’m so sorry, love. I’ve failed you, and I’m so sorry.”
She stilled her instinctual caress to his back and head. “Failed me?” Pushing on his shoulders, she waited until he met her gaze. “Are ye in love with another?” At his incredulous snort and then furious glower, she relaxed and smiled. “Then nothin’ has happened which canno’ be overcome.” Cupping the side of his jaw, she whispered, “What is it?”
“I’ve been fired. Released of my duties as foreman.” He jutted out his jaw, as his gaze turned glassy at the thought. “We have to be gone by tomorrow.”
“What?” She shook her head in confusion. “We’re family. We belong here. I dinna understand.” She cupped both of his cheeks, tilting his head, so he’d meet her gaze. “Make me understand, Slims.”
He rose, kissing her on her forehead, as he moved and paced away. “I’m loyal, Dav. You know that.” He paused, shoulders tensed, as though waiting for her to disagree and to prove false all he had believed about himself.
“Aye, of course ye are. An’ anyone who does no’ ken it, or doubts it, is a great lummox,” she snapped. She rose, standing in front of him, over a foot shorter than he was. “Who would dare doubt ye?” At his silence, she stomped her foot. “That new brother?”
“No,” Slims whispered, his voice breaking. “Frederick.”
“Frederick?” Davina breathed, sitting again in stunned silence. “He would no’. He’s like yer brother.”
Slims ran a hand over his face and looked out the window. “Yes. Like my baby brother. I’ve done things, Dav.” He stopped, as though recollecting parts of his past. “Things to protect him. And he resents me for it.”
“I dinna understand.” Her brown eyes glowed with confusion. She waited in silence, as he stood staring out the window.
“This is home,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine leaving it. Not raising our family here. Together.”
Davina rose, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her chest to him to hold him tight. “Nae, Slims. Home is wherever we are together. It does no’ matter where we are. As long as I have ye, I dinna care.”
He turned, cupping her cheeks. “I don’t know how I’ll provide for you. For our babe.” One hand dropped to cover her slightly rounded belly. “I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.”
“Hush,” she admonished, standing on her toes to kiss him into silence. “Ye have no’, nor will ye ever fail me. No’ unless ye abandon me or spurn me for another.” She smiled at him when she saw the disgust in his gaze at the thought of either possibility. “Now tell me what ye did.”
He pulled her close. “It began years ago. I thought to spare the boys heartache. I fear I’ve only multiplied it.” He relaxed, as she never let him go, while he whispered the truth behind his treachery, her steadfastness a balm to the fresh wound.
Peter sat in the large living room, holding his niece, Mairi, on his lap, while her twin, Harold, played at his feet. Peter attempted to entertain the two cherubs but knew they were attuned to the yelling coming from his brother’s nearby office. His sister-in-law, Sorcha, was
irate at the news that her cousin would be forced from the ranch the following morning.
“No, little one,” Peter murmured, as Mairi tugged at a button on his waistcoat. “You don’t want to eat that.” He kissed her head, as she mumbled words that sounded like, “I can!” over and over again, as she continued to attack his clothing with a determined vengeance. He worried he’d be in rags by the time the argument was over. “Ah, well, it would be worth it,” he said to himself, as he stroked a hand over Mairi’s brown hair that shone red in any light.
Rarely had he had the opportunity to simply sit and to enjoy the company of his niece and nephew. Too often, they had been in the arms of another. Now, however, the main ranch house was empty, except for them. No ranch hands ventured inside for a cup of coffee, a bit of conversation, or advice. It was as though everyone knew better than to intrude, when emotions were running out of control.
Peter sighed, his hand resting on Mairi’s back to ensure she didn’t topple over backward, as she continued to work on his clothing. He wondered if her single-minded determination came from her mother, although he knew his brother had a similar focus. With regret, Peter mused that he had wandered through his life rather aimlessly. Content to travel from Texas annually with a herd of cattle, rarely talking with anyone. Passing the winters playing cards and listening to tall tales, as he and Cole found another herd to bring north. Nothing that crafted a stable life.
Unwittingly his mind strayed to the memory of his months courting Philomena. The day she had walked into that Texas general store, he had paid her little notice. Except for her alluring scent. As he walked out the door, the scent of lavender mixed with sage had wafted over him. As he had turned to cast one last speculative glance in her direction, he had suspected there was much more to Miss Fitch than met the eye.
With a soft groan, Peter admitted to himself that he couldn’t cease thinking of her. Of the sparkle in her eyes that hinted at her inner joy. Of her ability to ignore snide comments and to treat everyone with respect and dignity. Of her quiet strength that called to him, giving him hope that not all women were fickle or faithless.
He grunted and looked at his niece. “Be a better woman,” he murmured to her. When she stared at him in confusion, he sighed and rested his head against the back of the chair, dreaming of a time when he held another woman in his arms.
The following morning, Peter walked into the kitchen and frowned, as the stove was nearly cold, and no coffee had been brewed. He yawned hugely, as he stared out the kitchen window to see a beautiful pink-tinged sky hugging the mountains. After another yawn and a stretch, he moved to the stove, stirred the dying embers, fed in a little coal, and then washed his hands.
After the fire was rekindled, he placed the coffeepot over one of the burners and then looked in the icebox. Only a few eggs remained, so he picked up the basket and ventured outside to the chicken coop. Although it was early in the morning, he hoped he would find enough eggs for breakfast.
When he returned inside, he found his sister-in-law Sorcha sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and staring into space. “Are you well, Sorcha?” he asked, as he set down the basket.
“Ye agree with him,” she said in a dull voice. All the vitality and vibrancy in her had vanished. “That my cousin, my family, should be banished from the ranch.” She glared at him, although no emotion was in her gaze, other than disdain. “’Twould have been better all-around had ye no’ come back.”
Peter stilled, staring at her in horror. “You don’t want me here?” He sat across from her with a cup of coffee between his palms. To warm himself and to give himself something to do with his hands. “How can you say that to me?”
“Ye’ve never showed any affinity for the place. Nor for yer brother. Why should ye come back an’ wreak havoc? Why should ye have the right to ruin the family an’ the life I was building?”
“Because Slims and Tobias ruined mine,” Peter said in a low, infuriated voice.
Sorcha met his gaze, hers now filled with a passionate loathing. “Ye believe that, by destroyin’ what we have now, ’twill make up for what was broken then?” She shook her head. “Ye’re an eejit. An’ ye ken nothin’ about life.” She took a deep breath. “Life’s about forgiveness an’ love an’ charity. ’Tisn’t about vengeance and retribution.”
“That’s easy for you to say, when you’ve lived an easy life, with a family who adored you,” Peter spat out. “What would you know about suffering?”
Sorcha gripped his forearm to prevent him from standing and striding away. “I ken plenty. More than you do, ye fool.” She met his indignant gaze. “My brothers’ mother loathed me, an’ I never kent why. ’Twasn’t until I was much older, an’ both my parents had died, that I kent the woman I’d thought was my mother was no’ my mother. She had hated me an’ treated me little better than a servant because my father had loved another. An’ I was that woman’s daughter.”
“Why didn’t your real mother want you?” Peter asked in a low voice, his anger having drained away.
“She died. An’ her family had renounced kennin’ her. So I was to be raised in an orphanage. But Da refused. He came for me an’ raised me as his.” She looked at Peter. “I ken all about treachery. I ken about disappointment. I ken about no’ wantin’ to trust another.” She shook her head. “But life’s too precious to be wasted on such cowardice.”
“Cowardice?”
“Aye. I watched my brother Cailean nearly lose his wife out of fear. I watched Alistair nearly lose his from pride. An’ I nearly lost Frederick because I was a fool. An’ all we were doin’ was makin’ ourselves miserable and bindin’ ourselves to the chains of our past. As ye are.” She took a sip of her coffee.
“You want me gone,” he said in a low voice.
She made a low sound in her throat. “Ach, ye are a right eejit if that’s all ye’ve heard. I dinna care if ye stay or go, Peter. I want my family back. I want the life I was buildin’ back. I want Frederick to be happy again. An’ he canno’ be until he has peace with Slims.” She glowered at him. “Ye brought strife to this home. Endeavor to return peace to it.” She rose, leaving him alone at the table, deep in thought.
That morning, Slims helped Davina down from her horse and gave her a weak smile. They had set out early from the ranch, with no one wishing them well or seeing them off. The ride into town had been a quiet one, but his wife was strong, and she did not cry and wail at fate. Instead she was stoic and determined that their future would be bright, no matter where they lived. Now they were outside the MacKinnon livery on the edge of town, and Slims battled nerves at his reception. “Do you mind waiting here, while I find Cailean or Alistair? I might be a few minutes.”
She ran a hand down his arm. “I’ll be by the paddock, watching the horses. Take your time, love.” She tugged on his arms, until he bent forward, kissing him softly. “All will be well. You’ll see.”
Slims kissed her forehead and moved into the barn. He paused, allowing his eyes to adjust and to see who was present. All three partners were near the paddock doors, watching the horse in the pen, as they drank coffee and chatted. “Good to see the livery keeps you busy,” Slims called out, as he walked toward them.
“Slims!” Cailean said, as he rose to shake the big man’s hand. “What are you doing in town? Is everyone well?” He only relaxed when Slims smiled. The youngest MacKinnon, Sorcha, was married to Frederick, and all her brothers were protective of her.
Slims smiled at Alistair and Bears. “All is well with Sorcha,” he said.
Bears stared at him speculatively. One-third partner in the livery, John Runs from Bears Renfrew, or Bears, was like family to all MacKinnons. Since he had married Annabelle’s sister, Fidelia, he was officially family. Half-white, half–Native American, he preferred spending time with horses than with most people. With the MacKinnons, he had found an acceptance he had never expected. “But not with Frederick,” Bears murmured.
Slims sighed at his perceptiveness.
“How do you always see so damn much, Bears?” he groused. “No, things are bad with him.” He looked at Alistair, the middle MacKinnon brother, and then back to Cailean, the eldest. “I was fired as foreman. I … I have nowhere to go.”
Cailean turned away from them, barely in time, as he spit out the mouthful of coffee he had just sipped. “What?” he gasped. “Fired?”
“That canna be true,” Alistair breathed. “Yer family. Davina is Sorcha’s cousin. Our cousin.”
Slims nodded, hurt and rage in his gaze. “It is. I … I deceived Frederick, and he will not listen to me. He believes I have been disloyal.”
Cailean shared a quick glance with his brother and shook his head. “I know you, Slims, and I know you’d never be anything but loyal to Frederick. If you care to share what happened, one or all of us will listen. If you don’t, I understand.” He paused a moment. “The cabin behind the paddock is empty. I’d be happy if you and Davina use it, for as long as you need to.” He smiled, as he saw the relief in the older man’s gaze.
“We can’t seem to find a reliable man to help us out here in the livery. After the expansion, the work has more than doubled,” Bears said. “The job is yours, if you want it.”
“Aye,” Alistair said. “Although I ken ye’ll be back on the ranch soon enough, an’ then we’ll never find another who’ll help us like ye can.” He shrugged.
Cailean smiled. “I’ll enjoy the help, while we have it. And will enjoy the extra time with Belle and Skye.” He paused. “Where’s Davina?”
Slims motioned outside. “At the paddock fence. Watching the horses.”
Bears smiled. “It will be a joy to have the time to talk about horses with someone who has such a keen desire to learn.” He walked in that direction, leaving Slims alone with the two MacKinnon brothers.
“Are ye well, man?” Alistair asked. Although the second brother, he had an air of authority about him. Married to the town’s former schoolteacher, Leticia, he had three children with her. He radiated an air of contentment, something Slims envied, as his life was in turmoil.
Runaway Montana Groom: Bear Grass Springs Book 12 Page 3
