by R. C. Ryan
As she slipped into Jake’s room she could see, by the light of the moon, that he was resting comfortably. The drugs Dr. Walton had sent must have done the trick.
She was about to leave when his hand reached out to hers. “Stay.”
“I thought you were sleeping. I’ll only stay a minute. You need your sleep.”
“I’m fine. But I’d sleep better with you beside me.”
She shook her head. “I’m planning on taking a long, soaking bath and then falling into bed. Alone, cowboy.”
“You really know how to hurt a guy.” He chuckled. “Tell me how you’re doing, Meg.”
She settled herself on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know. It’s been a crazy day and a lot to take in. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet that the danger is past and I can get on with my life.”
“It’s about time.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “When I heard Blain’s gun go off, and thought he’d killed you—”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m too tough to die.”
“Oh, Jake.” She lay down beside him and touched a hand to his bandaged head. “When I saw all that blood, I thought my poor heart would stop.”
He gave her that rogue smile she’d come to love. “Are you trying to say you care about me, Ms. Stanford?”
“More than I realized.”
“Do you care enough to stay in Wyoming?” He waited a beat. When she didn’t respond, he said, “I don’t think there’s much of a need for a veterinarian in D.C. Although I suppose I could just give it all up and become your love slave.”
“You’d do that for me?”
He closed his hand over hers. “I could be persuaded to sacrifice myself for your pleasure.”
“If only it were that simple.” She sighed. “Oh, Jake. What a mess.”
“Hey. No complaining allowed. We’re alive. You and Cory are safe. Right now, that’s all that matters to me.” He fell silent for a moment. “Those are strong drugs Doc Walton gave me. I’m drifting.”
“Go to sleep.” She touched her mouth to his and lingered over the kiss for long moments before getting to her feet. “I’ll check on you in a couple of hours.”
“Good. Maybe by then I can find something better to do with you in this bed than sleep.”
He didn’t even hear the door close as she walked away.
Her skin glowing from the bath, Meg wrapped herself in a bulky robe she’d found in the guest closet and descended the stairs to find Phoebe and Ela talking quietly in the kitchen.
“Don’t you two ever sleep?”
Ela merely smiled. “What about you?”
“Too much on my mind.” She glanced around. “Do you mind if I make tea?”
“It’s made.” Phoebe indicated the teapot. “Help yourself.”
Meg poured a cup of tea and carried it to the table. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Phoebe shook her head. “We were going over the events of the day. It’s a lot to take in. How’s Cory doing?”
“I waited until I was sure he was sound asleep.” A light came into Meg’s eyes. “I still can’t get over the fact that he was willing to sacrifice himself to save me.”
Ela nodded her head. “I knew the first time I saw him that he was a good boy.”
“Then you’re a better judge of people than I am. I thought he hated me, or at least resented me for being here. I’m ashamed of the things I was thinking.”
Phoebe’s tone was gentle. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Meg. We all misjudge people sometimes.”
Meg sipped her tea. “Look how I misjudged my own father.” She gave a dreamy smile. “If I hadn’t come back to Wyoming, I’d have never known how much he loved and missed me. I would have gone through life believing the worst about him.” She stared into space. “Jake said there are no accidents. Do you believe that?”
Ela said, “My people believe that the spirits of those who have passed often remain to ease those they love during their passage in this world. Would it be so hard to believe that your father remained here to see his children united and happy in the place that he loved?”
Meg leaned over and kissed the old woman’s withered cheek. “It’s not hard to believe at all.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sorry. I’m feeling all weepy tonight.”
Phoebe lay a hand over Meg’s. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“It isn’t just the danger that has me on edge. It’s all these feelings for—” she shrugged, embarrassed by emotions that were too close to the surface “—all these feelings for people.”
“Anyone in particular?” Phoebe bit back her smile.
Meg pushed away from the table. “It’s late.” She drained her cup and set it in the dishwasher. “I’d better get to bed. Good night.”
As she hurried away, the two women exchanged knowing smiles.
“Do you think she knows yet?” Phoebe asked softly.
Ela shook her head. “The ones caught in the confusion of true love are often the last to recognize it.”
Phoebe’s smile faded a bit when she realized the old woman was watching her with a shrewd look in those blackbird eyes. She tried for a casual tone. “I thought we were talking about Jake and Meg.”
“You were. As for me, I have watched you and Cole deny your feelings for a lifetime.”
“He’s still in love with Seraphine.”
“As you still love your Tim.”
“That’s different. I was able to bury Tim.”
“Did you bury your love, as well?”
“Of course not. I’ll always have a very special place in my heart for him. He was my first love.”
“As Seraphine was Cole’s first love. But time moves on. Hearts are capable of more than one great love.”
Phoebe sighed. “You’re talking to the wrong person, Ela. I don’t think Cole is able to move on.”
“Then you haven’t seen the man I see when he looks at you. Try looking at him with your heart.”
When the old woman left the kitchen, Phoebe remained alone, her thoughts a jumble of conflicting emotions.
Meg walked up the stairs, intent upon going to the guest room. Instead she walked past it and let herself into Jake’s bedroom.
By the light of the moon she made her way to the bed. As she lay down beside him, his arm came around her waist, drawing her closer.
“Sorry I woke you, Jake.”
“I was awake. I’ve been waiting for you.” He kissed her long and slow and deep. “I think I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
“Jake Conway.” Phoebe turned from the stove to see Jake, his shoulder still bandaged, dressed for chores and heading for the mudroom. “Where do you think you’re going? Dr. Walton said you shouldn’t tax that shoulder until she says it’s completely healed.”
“I’m just going to the barn to meet Randy Morton. He’s back in town and heading over here to pick up Honey and her pups.”
“All right. See that you don’t do any heavy lifting, or try doing any chores while you’re out in the barn. Quinn and Josh have already mucked the stalls, and they said they’ll be back in plenty of time to do whatever else is needed.”
“You worry too much.”
“Somebody has to. You never worry about yourself.”
Jake pressed a kiss to Phoebe’s cheek before sauntering out the door.
It had been three days since he’d been shot. Three days of pure bliss, while he’d lounged around recovering. Each day his shoulder felt stronger, and each night, when Meg came to him, the feelings he had for her grew stronger, too. The problem was, she’d started talking about going home. And he wasn’t certain if home to Meg meant Washington D.C. or her father’s ranch. She refused to be pinned down. She completely avoided the subject.
As expected, Cory was already in the barn, taking care of Honey and her puppies. He’d become absolutely devoted to them, and to anything that had to do with being a veterinarian.
He looked up as Jake approach
ed. “They’re already fed. And I cleaned the hay and changed the bedding in Honey’s pen.”
“Good boy. You’re becoming a really valuable assistant, Cory.”
The boy flushed with pleasure.
“Time for their last shots.”
Cory reached for one puppy after the other, holding each one the way Jake had taught him, while Jake administered a shot. As each pup gave a few yips of displeasure, Cory would soothe and cuddle it before returning it to its mother, who would lick and calm it.
“I guess that’s it.” Jake looked up as Randy Morton appeared in the doorway. “And just in time. That was their last shot before going home.”
“They’re going home?” Cory looked stunned.
“Randy’s here to pick them up.”
“Oh.” Without realizing it, Cory reached for Trouble and cradled the pup to his chest.
“Hey, Jake.” Randy Morton strode to the pen and was rewarded by a tail-wagging, hand-licking welcome by Honey, who seemed to be beaming as she showed off her new family. “Well, aren’t you just the prettiest new mama in the world?”
Randy got down on his knees and was instantly mobbed by tiny bundles of fluff. He laughed and rolled around with them, clearly delighted by the additions to his family.
“Randy, this is Cory Stanford. Cory, the guy being manhandled by the puppies is Randy Morton.”
Randy stood and offered a handshake to the boy. “I’m sorry about your daddy, son.”
Cory lowered his gaze, unsure how to respond.
Randy indicated the puppy in Cory’s arms. “Is that one of Honey’s pups?”
“Yes, sir. I call him Trouble.”
“Does he live up to his name?”
Cory nodded. “He likes getting into everything he can. So far he’s knocked over the water dish about a hundred times, emptied Honey’s food dish, too, and got himself tangled up in the blanket, but I freed him.”
Randy studied the boy and the pup. “He looks pretty comfortable in your arms. I’m thinking he likes you, Cory.”
Cory’s smile would light up the entire barn. “I like him, too.”
“Well.” Randy turned to Jake. “I heard about all the excitement while I was gone. It’s the talk of the town. Next time we have a beer you can tell me all about it. Now I’d better get the new mama and her babies back home.”
“Cory and I will give you a hand.”
Randy led Honey toward his truck, with the five puppies trailing behind. Honey jumped up into the back of the truck and stepped into a large cage Randy had provided for safety during the ride to town.
Cory carried Trouble to the truck and set him up in the back beside his mother, before lifting up the others. Before he could close the cage, Trouble bounded out and leaped into Cory’s arms. For long minutes the boy held the pup close until his face and neck had been bathed in puppy kisses. Finally, when Randy stood holding the tailgate, Cory was forced to return Trouble to his cage. Randy closed the truck’s tailgate and turned to shake hands with Jake.
“Thanks for standing in for me, Jake.”
“Any time, Randy.”
“And thank you, Cory. Jake says you’re the one who was with Honey when all this started.”
The boy shrugged, his gaze still on the puppies.
“I won’t forget it, son.” Randy climbed into his truck and drove away.
Long after Jake had walked away, Cory remained by the barn door, watching until the truck was gone and even the dust of departure had blown away. Then, with a heavy heart, the boy went in search of Shadow in the corral.
It was noon, and though it was rare for the entire family to gather for lunch, it happened occasionally.
Ever since the terrifying incident with Blain Turner, the entire Conway family had been closer than ever. Big Jim referred to it as “circling the wagons.” Whenever they sensed trouble, it was a natural inclination to stay close and guard one another’s backs.
Phoebe and Ela were in their element, cooking and baking up a storm, and happy to see their efforts appreciated.
“Now this was worth coming home to,” Quinn remarked, as he filled his bowl with Phoebe’s spicy hot chili.
“Were you up at the cabin?” Sierra helped herself to chili before passing it to Josh.
Cheyenne answered for both of them. “Quinn and I are thinking of adding on to the cabin.”
“Why?” Josh broke open a steaming hot roll and slathered it with butter.
Quinn shrugged. “Way too many female things cluttering my once-sparse hideaway.” He looked over at Josh. “How are your house plans coming?”
Josh and Sierra exchanged knowing smiles. “We think we’ve found the perfect style of architecture for the bluff.”
“I hope there will be lots and lots of glass,” Cheyenne said. “That spectacular setting just begs for lots of windows.”
Sierra nodded. “And local stone. I want it to look like it grew right out of the mountains.”
Big Jim glanced at Meg, who had been strangely silent throughout the meal. “It seems like everybody’s busy making plans, Meg. What are yours?”
She shrugged. “I wish I knew. I’m still taking it a day at a time. But I do think it’s time that Cory and I went home and started dealing with our future.”
“You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you—”
Cole looked up at the sound of a car’s engine, and the others did the same. Minutes later Everett Fletcher knocked on the door and stepped inside.
Even before he had time to greet everyone, Phoebe was on her feet and fetching another place setting at the table.
Everett lifted a hand to stop her. “I know that it seems I always time my visits to your ranch so I can sample all your fine cooking. But this time, I’m here with news that won’t wait.” He glanced around the table. “It’s nice that you’re all here, so you can hear this together.” He turned to look at Cory and Meg. “The state lab has sent back the test results of your DNA.”
Everyone fell silent.
Without realizing it, Meg reached out and caught Cory’s hand. The boy squeezed her hand hard and stared at the tabletop, afraid to look at anyone.
Everett reached for an envelope in his breast pocket and carefully unfolded the document inside. “It says after extensive testing, they’ve proved that there is zero chance that you are in any way related to”—he looked over at Cory—“Blain Turner.”
The little boy let out the breath he’d been holding, and Meg did the same.
Everett went on. “From the DNA provided by Meg, and the things of Porter’s that were available for testing, there is no doubt—in fact, there is a ninety-nine percent probability—that you and Meg had the same father: Porter Stanford.”
Meg was crying as she enveloped Cory in a fierce hug. The others had jumped out of their chairs to gather around and embrace them.
Everett stood back, watching the celebration with a huge smile on his face. He blinked hard as he said, “You know, folks, there are days when being in law enforcement just makes me so damned proud. This is one of those days.”
With handshakes all around, he grabbed the little boy by the shoulders and said, “I’m so glad I could be the bearer of good news for a change, son. Now I hope you and your sister have a good, long life together.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The celebration for Meg and Cory went on throughout the day, with Phoebe and Ela making a special dinner in their honor and, later, a gloriously decadent strawberry shortcake shared by everyone in the great room.
The following day Meg knew that she’d been putting off making any decisions about moving forward, but she couldn’t seem to focus. She felt…twitchy. She couldn’t seem to settle, flitting from helping Jake and his brothers in the barn to helping Phoebe and Ela in the kitchen.
When her cell phone rang, she saw Raven’s name and knew that this had been what she’d been waiting for so impatiently.
She answered quickly. “Raven. Do you have news?”
/>
“I don’t know if it’s what you were hoping for.” He spoke in short, staccato bursts, filling her in, before adding, “How soon can you get the Conway family together?”
“I don’t believe any of them are up in the high country. I think most of them are around the barns and outbuildings, so it shouldn’t take any time at all to get them here.”
“If you’ll ask them to meet with me at the house, I can be there within the hour.”
She agreed before tucking her phone away and hurrying out to the barn.
Puzzled by Meg’s unexplained summons, the Conway family came from the fields, the barns, the kitchen, to assemble in the great room.
Jake hurried across the room to close a hand over Meg’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
She stood wringing her hands. “Oh, Jake, I hope I’ve done the right thing.” She seemed to gather herself before saying, “Raven is on his way with some important information.”
“I thought the DNA tests were conclusive.”
“They are. But he asked that I bring everyone together before he arrived to share some news.”
“News? I don’t underst—” He looked up at the sound of a truck’s engine, and the crunch of gravel, announcing the arrival of their guest.
When Raven walked in, he was followed by Chief Everett Fletcher.
Cole looked from one man to the other. “What’s this about, Everett?”
“Raven asked me to come along in my official capacity as chief law enforcement officer of the county. For now, I’ll just stand back and let him explain everything.”
The chief chose a seat apart from the others, while Raven stood in the center of the room facing the Conway family, who sat sprawled on sofas and chairs, with Josh and Sierra snuggled together on the floor at Cole’s feet.
Raven began in a clear, controlled voice. “On the day Blain Turner was caught, Meg was feeling more than a little overwhelmed, and grateful just to be alive. When all the excitement ended, she asked me if I would keep my team here in Wyoming to follow a twenty-five-year-old cold case to whatever conclusion we might find. She asked me to use all my resources, and that meant several dozen operatives poring over hundreds of hours of newspaper articles, radio and TV news bites, and police and FBI files, to find out what happened to Seraphine Cramer Conway.”
