by B. J Daniels
“Everyone settle down,” Asa ordered loudly. “Martha, break out the good bourbon. Now you know the truth. Your mother is alive.”
“No kidding,” J.T. snapped.
“Our mother?” Dusty demanded.
Asa nodded, turning his attention to her, his expression softening. “You’re a McCall in every sense of the word.”
Rourke could see that Dusty was as angry as her brothers now. “You lied to me all these years?”
“I need to speak with your mother alone.” Asa looked to Shelby, his expression as close to a plea as Rourke had ever seen.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Shelby said.
J.T. and Cash started to argue.
“We’ll only be a moment,” she said. “Then I want to talk to all of you.”
Asa closed the dining-room door firmly behind them.
J.T. was the first to speak. “What the hell? Did any of you…” He broke off, seeing that none of them had a clue. “Someone please tell me why we’ve been putting flowers on her grave for the past thirty years?”
“You think they are still married?” Dusty asked Rourke.
“Must be.”
“Where has she been?” Brandon asked into the stunned silence. “Why didn’t she let us know she was alive?”
“Amnesia,” Dusty said. “I read about this woman who was on her way to the grocery store and bumped her head and they found her years later in Alaska or someplace.”
“Our mother didn’t have amnesia,” Cash said. “Unless it comes and goes. Dad just said you were his daughter with her.”
Dusty frowned. “Why did he let me believe that he adopted me?”
“Who knows what else the old man has been hiding from us,” Rourke said, and chuckled to himself. Just when he thought his father couldn’t surprise him.
“How could he keep a secret like this?” J.T. said. “I’ve seen our mother’s obituary from the newspaper. There’s an elaborate tombstone on her grave.”
“Everyone thought she was dead, not just us,” Rourke agreed.
J.T. shook his head. In the silence that fell between them, they could hear raised voices in the den.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she,” Brandon said.
Rourke nodded and looked at Dusty, who was fuming at her end of the table. “Just like her daughter.”
Tears welled in Dusty’s eyes as she looked at him, then quickly excused herself and disappeared into the hall powder room.
“I could kill the son of a bitch for hurting her,” Rourke said.
“You’ve killed enough people,” J.T. snapped.
“It’s just an expression,” Cash said.
“Not one Rourke should be using,” J.T. said.
“Okay, let’s not argue,” Brandon said. “This is stressful enough as it is. Let’s not turn on each other.”
“Brandon’s right,” Cash said. “If anything, we need to pull together.”
“You’re right,” J.T. said. “Can you imagine what will happen when the news hits town?”
They all groaned.
“What if she isn’t staying?” Dusty said from the doorway. They hadn’t noticed that she’d returned.
“What if she is?” J.T. said.
They fell silent as they heard the den door open and close, then footfalls.
Asa appeared in the doorway. Shelby wasn’t with him. “Your mother wants to talk to you all in the den, but first there is something I need to tell you.” He cleared his throat. He was visibly shaking and his voice broke as he said, “Your mother is back.”
They all let out a nervous laugh.
“No kidding,” Rourke said.
“Back from the dead?” J.T. asked.
“Back?” Dusty echoed. “You mean she’s going to be living with us? Where has she been?”
“Shouldn’t this have come up years ago?” J.T. joined in.
Asa raised one hand and picked up his glass of bourbon with the other. He drained his glass. “I think I’d better explain.”
BLAZE WAS WORKING LATE AGAIN when she looked up to see her brother Gavin pass by the window. He slowed, looked in, saw her and quickened his step.
Blaze heard the front door open and braced herself, curious and yet dreading seeing her brother. She’d heard that Gavin had left the VanHorn Ranch and was now working on the Palmer Ranch. She wondered how that had happened. Knowing her brother, she had a pretty good idea.
“Hey,” he said, coming into her office and closing the door behind him. He wore old jeans and boots, a soiled shirt and hat.
“Why are you so dirty?” she asked, hoping no one had seen him come in.
“I’ve been working,” he said, sounding irritated with her, but quickly added in a more civil tone, “How are you?”
As if he cared. “Fine.” If he wanted money, he was out of luck. She used all that she made and then some—and didn’t even live that well.
He looked around the office. “Not bad.”
“Not mine,” she said.
He turned to grin at her. “You think I came by to bum you for money?” He laughed as if the idea were ludicrous. They both knew better. “Can’t a brother stop in to see his sister?”
Stepbrother. She hadn’t been all that thrilled when her mother died and her father had remarried a woman named Kitten—who named their child Kitten, anyway?—and Kitten had a son who was two years younger than Blaze.
“What do you want, Gavin?” she asked, cutting to the chase.
“Have you seen Rourke?”
Rourke? “Of course.”
He looked relieved. “I figured you two would get back together.”
She didn’t correct him. “What do you want with Rourke?”
“I heard he was looking for me.” Gavin didn’t sound happy about that. Was there some reason he shouldn’t be?
First Yvonne and now her brother? “Why would he want to see you?”
He shrugged. “I thought he might have told you what he wanted.”
She stared at her brother. “You never told me why you left VanHorn.”
He glanced toward the street. “That’s old news.”
“He fired you.”
Gavin swung his head around to glare at her. “Why would you say that?”
“What did you do?” she demanded impatiently.
“There was a misunderstanding,” he said, looking away again. “Over a couple of his cattle.”
“You were rustling his cattle?” She hated the admiration she heard in her tone.
He grinned. “I got a hundred head before I was caught.”
“I’m surprised VanHorn didn’t kill you.”
“It was close,” he admitted.
“And you still got on at the Palmer Ranch?” This surprised her. Under normal circumstances, his actions would have him blacklisted from every ranch around.
He shrugged again. “VanHorn gave me a good recommendation. How do you beat that?” He glanced again to the street.
This time she followed his gaze and saw Holt VanHorn sitting in a pickup across the street.
“Do you need to go out the back way?” she asked.
Her stepbrother laughed. “Naw, Holt’s waiting for me. I gotta go.”
Her brother was running with Holt VanHorn? This could explain why VanHorn had let the cattle rustling go. He must have thought his son was involved.
“When will you see Rourke?” he asked.
She had worked late again tonight hoping he’d come by. He’d disappointed her for a second time. “He’s tied up tonight.” She just hoped it wasn’t with Cassidy. “Did you want me to give him a message?”
“See if you can find out what he wants.”
She eyed him. “Why would he want to talk to you?”
Gavin shrugged. “Not a clue.”
“You know he’s determined to find out who killed Forrest,” she said.
“I know.” He met her gaze then and she saw fear, but she couldn’t be sure if it was for her or for himself.
“I ADMIT IT. I lied,” Asa said, the words like stones in his mouth. He looked around the table, hoping to find one of his offspring who might show him some compassion, some understanding. He saw nothing but anger, confusion, suspicion. Not even Dusty gave him the least bit of encouragement.
He reached for the bottle of bourbon to pour himself another drink, but J.T. moved it out of his reach.
“Shelby and I were wrong for each other from the very beginning,” he said.
There was a burst of laughter around the table. “What? You didn’t notice until after your fourth son was born?” Rourke said.
“It was a love-hate relationship,” Asa said, realizing how ill-equipped he was to explain this to them. He’d had trouble explaining it to himself for years.
Maybe he should throw himself on their mercy. He looked around the table. It would be like throwing himself to wolves.
“We realized we couldn’t live together. She would have to leave, but I didn’t want you kids thinking your mother had just left you—”
“She did just leave us,” Cash said.
“—so I faked her death.”
“Unbelievable,” J.T. said.
“And illegal,” Cash added.
“You don’t understand,” Asa said, and groaned. “I wanted to protect you kids.”
“Protect us from our mother?” Brandon asked.
Asa looked at his youngest son, the one most like Shelby. “Protect you from divorce, a divided family.”
“And how do you explain me?” Dusty said, sounding close to tears.
Asa looked down the table at her, wanting to shelter her but there was no holding back now. If he didn’t tell them, Shelby would.
“You were a love child, just as I told you,” he said quietly. “Shelby and I…got together to talk and—”
“When was this?” J.T. demanded.
“Seventeen years ago, give or take nine months,” Rourke said.
“That trip down south you took,” J.T. said, as if suddenly remembering. He shook his head. “Has anything you’ve ever told us been the truth?”
Asa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He straightened to his full height. “I did what I had to do. Someday when you’re a parent—”
“Bull,” Brandon said, and got to his feet. “I want to hear what my mother has to say about all this.”
The rest were on their feet. As Rourke passed him, Asa saw that at least one son expected there was more to the story.
The moment they were gone, Asa grabbed the bourbon and poured himself a stiff drink. He was going to need it. Shelby was back. God help them all. At least the truth was out. He told himself it couldn’t get any worse than this, but he knew better. When the past came back to haunt you, you never knew what other ghosts it brought with it.
SHELBY LOOKED UP as Rourke and his siblings entered the den. She’d been standing by the fireplace, obviously waiting for them.
Rourke closed the door firmly and, as the others moved deeper into the room, he stayed by the door.
His first impression of her hadn’t done her justice. She was beautiful. He’d always wondered where their looks had come from. Obviously from their mother.
“Dad just told us how he faked your death to protect us from the truth,” J.T. said to her. “Now we’d like to hear the truth.”
She studied her children one by one, her gaze locking with Rourke’s as if she was acknowledging he would be the hardest one to sell her story to. Her smile slipped away.
“Your father and I couldn’t get along. One of us had to go.”
“Why didn’t you send him packing?” Cash asked.
“Asa would never leave his ranch. I had no idea how to run a ranch and you were his sons. Sons need a father.”
“And daughters?” Dusty asked.
“So you just agreed to leave?” J.T. said.
“It was a sacrifice I felt I had to make,” she said softly, her attention on Dusty. “As hard as it was for me. I felt your lives would be better without me than with me in town. I didn’t want you torn between two quarreling parents like in so many divorces.”
“So you’re divorced?” Cash asked.
“No,” she said. “That was another stigma we didn’t want you to have to live with, and I knew I would never remarry.”
“Marriage to Asa was that bad?” Rourke said from his spot by the door.
She smiled at him. “I knew I would never love anyone the way I loved your father.”
“Uh-huh,” Rourke said.
“So you went along with his plan to fake your death, right down to the memorial service and the gravestone at the cemetery?” Cash demanded.
She straightened. “It seemed like a way to put an end to it at the time.”
“What about me?” Dusty demanded. Rourke could hear the anger and hurt in her voice. She sounded close to tears.
“Oh, honey,” Shelby said, and took a step toward her but stopped as if seeing something in Dusty’s eyes that warned her not to come any closer. “Your father and I got together to discuss a financial matter and…” She waved a hand through the air. “I know you’re all angry and think we acted irresponsibly.”
There were sounds of agreement around the room.
“Not to mention illegally,” Cash piped up.
“But we love each other. You were all born of that love,” Shelby said. “We just couldn’t live together and that’s why I went away, planning never to return.”
“But you have returned,” Rourke said.
“Yes.” She looked across the room to him again. “I had to come home.”
“Why now?” J.T. asked.
“Why not years ago, when we needed you?” Brandon said.
She shook her head, tears welling in her blue eyes. “I wanted to, desperately. But I never knew how long Asa and I would be able to stay together without killing each other. I couldn’t do that to young children.”
“So you waited until we were old enough to understand?” Rourke suggested, knowing there was a whole lot more to this story.
“That’s partly it,” she said, as if choosing her words carefully. “Your father and I need to work out some things.”
“Financial things?” Rourke asked.
“It isn’t what you think,” she said. “It’s between your father and I.”
He’d heard enough. He turned and opened the door. If he hurried, he could catch Cassidy before the café closed.
“Are you staying?” he heard Dusty ask her mother as he headed down the hall toward the front door. He caught a glimpse of his father still at the dining-room table, steadily depleting the bottle of bourbon in front of him.
Rourke didn’t catch his mother’s answer. He didn’t need to. Shelby wouldn’t be staying. She was the kind of person whose first instinct when things went bad was to run away from it. Rourke knew now who he’d inherited it from.
ASA HEARD the front door open and close five times, heard several vehicles start up, heard angry voices in deep discussion out on the porch and figured Rourke and Cash had left. The other three were tearing him to shreds on the porch.
He poured himself another drink. Not even the alcohol was going to work tonight.
At the sound of her soft footfalls, he looked up. “How did it go?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
Shelby sat down heavily in a chair next to him. He pushed the bottle of bourbon toward her.
She had never been a drinker, so he was surprised when she poured a shot into the glass and downed it. She shuddered, eyes closed, tears beading her lashes.
When she opened her pale blue eyes, he felt a start, just as he had the first time he’d seen her. His heart ached just looking at her. He’d loved this woman all of his life, and not even the bad years or the long time apart could dull that all-enveloping love.
Nor could they have been more wrong for each other.
“You think they’ll ever forgive me?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said without hesita
tion. “They’re just angry right now. They think you abandoned them.”
“I did.”
He shook his head. “You and I know that isn’t true.”
“I could have put up more of a fight.”
Again he shook his head. “It wouldn’t have done any good. You and I would have ended up killing each other. And imagine how many more children we would have had.”
She smiled at that. “They are all so wonderful, aren’t they?”
He started to tell her that wonderful wouldn’t be the word he would choose for their pigheaded, contrary offspring, but he said, “Yes, they’re wonderful. Dusty is the spitting image of you.”
Tears welled again in her eyes. She discreetly wiped at them. “There will be an uproar when word gets out.”
He nodded. “Why are you back, Shelby? I thought we had a deal,” he asked, even though he feared he already knew, had known, the moment he saw her in town.
She reached silently to cover his hand with her own. As she squeezed his hand, tears spilled down both her cheeks. “You know why, Asa.”
He nodded. Some secrets were impossible to keep.
Chapter Eleven
As Rourke pulled up in front of the Longhorn Café, he felt a rush of relief at the mere sight of Cassidy inside the café. He’d made it just in time. She was putting up the Closed sign as he got out of his pickup.
The rush of feeling surprised him and he realized it wasn’t just his temper he’d learned to control in prison. He’d put a lid on a lot of other emotions, as well.
Cassidy spotted him, seeming surprised, as she opened the door. After everything that had happened today, she was like a breath of fresh air.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, studying his face.
He smiled at her. “Could we maybe—” he glanced at one of the booths “—talk?” It surprised him how much he was hoping she’d say yes. He couldn’t think of any other place he wanted to be right now than here with Cassidy.
She didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Want something to eat or drink?”
“Coffee would be nice if you still have any or I could make some.”
