“Okay.” Reese stood bent at the waist, her hands braced on her knees.
Gabe, too, rested. How long had this taken? Thirty minutes? An hour? He wasn’t sure. Except that, for whatever time it took, he hadn’t once thought of his father’s death.
“My God, Gabe, you did it! You saved him.”
The next instant, Reese slammed into him, her arms circling his neck. He automatically steadied them both by holding on to her.
“Thank you,” she said, clinging to him, her face buried in his coat.
He stared at the top of her head, momentarily stunned. He’d touched Reese just one other time in their entire lives. They’d been in high school, at their senior prom. He’d cradled her while she cried and begged him not to tell anyone she was pregnant.
* * *
“YOU SHOULD CALL the vet right away.”
Reese didn’t need Gabe to tell her that. Of course she’d call the vet. The second she and General arrived home. But, seeing as Gabe had rescued her father’s favorite horse, and she was eternally grateful, she bit her tongue.
“I will.”
They’d finally managed to coax General to his feet after a ten-minute respite. The poor gelding was utterly depleted and stood with his head hanging low and his nose to the ground. If it were at all possible to drive a truck and trailer into these rugged hills, she’d do it. Unfortunately, she and General would have to travel by foot.
“Come on.” Gabe grabbed hold of his mare’s reins and mounted with the grace and ease of someone who rode daily. Once seated, he stared at her expectantly.
“What?” she asked.
He patted the mare’s hindquarters. “Climb aboard. Daylight’s wasting.”
Reese blinked in astonishment. “You’re suggesting we ride double?”
“Your horse won’t make it thirty feet carrying you.”
Did he believe her a nitwit? Just because she’d been away from Mustang Valley for a long time didn’t mean she’d forgotten everything she’d ever learned.
“I was planning on walking.” She picked her hat off the ground from where it had fallen. “At least to the road.”
“I’ll take you,” he said, as if it were already decided. He removed his left foot from the stirrup.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“You’re tuckered out. And it’ll be dark soon.”
He was right. The sun had started dropping, along with the temperature. General was wet and starting to shake. If she didn’t get him moving soon, he’d catch a chill. Her, too.
“Fine.”
He raised one brow as if to remark, “Funny way of saying thanks.”
Gabe had always been able to convey enormous emotion using very few words. It was a quality she’d found intriguing from the time they were young. That, and his good looks. His Hispanic heritage, courtesy of his mother, blended beautifully with his Dempsey genes. Dark hair, silver-gray eyes, a strong jaw, tanned complexion and a wide mouth created for kissing.
Not that she had kissed him. Or even thought about it. Okay, not much.
She and Gabe had grown up neighbors, but also rivals, thanks to their fathers’ lifelong feud. They’d steered as clear of each other as much as humanly possible in a small community the size of Mustang Valley.
Six months ago, she’d returned after a twelve-year absence. This afternoon was the first time she and Gabe had spoken since the night of their senior prom.
She should, she supposed, thank him for something else besides saving General. He’d kept his promise and said nothing about her pregnancy. If he had, she would have heard. Secrets like hers were too titillating to resist repeating.
Holding General’s reins with her right hand, she clasped Gabe’s outstretched one with her left. Then, putting her foot in the empty stirrup, she let him assist her onto the mare’s back.
“Can she carry the two of us?” she asked, settling in behind Gabe. The mare was on the small side and worn out after her recent efforts.
“She’ll manage.”
The next moment, they were off. At the mare’s first hop over a hole, Reese grabbed Gabe’s middle rather than be dumped on the ground. She swore he chuckled beneath his breath. Or it might have been the wind.
“How’s he doing?” Gabe asked after a few minutes.
Reese looked behind her at General, and her heart hurt. “He’s limping on his right rear leg.”
“Will he make it to the road?”
“I think so.” Then she could call the house and have someone from the Small Change meet them with a truck and trailer.
If her phone had worked when General fell into the sinkhole, she wouldn’t have had to rely on Gabe’s help. She’d tried repeatedly to get a signal, but there had been none. She was lucky he’d ridden by. And that it was today rather than tomorrow, after the reading of August Dempsey’s will.
“Thank you again,” she said. “I owe you.”
He simply grunted.
“For a lot more than saving General,” she added, wondering if he understood her meaning.
“I’m a man of my word.”
Okay, he did understand. “For which I’m very appreciative.”
She waited for him to ask her what had happened to the baby. Where she’d gone when she left Mustang Valley. What she’d done. If she’d ever told Blake Nolan, the baby’s father.
Gabe remained stoically silent, and she sensed an unmistakable tension coursing through him.
The next mile passed slowly. Every few minutes, Reese checked on General. His limp was getting worse, and she gritted her teeth. How far to the road? She craned her neck in order to look ahead over Gabe’s broad shoulder.
In hindsight, she should have waited to take General out until later in the week when she was less busy. But she hated seeing the stout gelding cooped up day after day in his stall, barely ridden.
It wasn’t her father’s fault. He would exercise General every day if his health permitted. This morning, simply crawling out of bed to attend August Dempsey’s funeral had been a challenge. Riding was out of the question.
“It was nice of you to come today,” Gabe said, rousing her from her thoughts.
“My father may not have gotten along with yours, but he respected him greatly. We wouldn’t have missed the funeral.”
Gabe’s response was another noncommittal grunt.
The mare stumbled on the steep incline, causing Reese to grip Gabe’s waist tighter.
“Maybe I should get off and walk,” she suggested, acutely aware of his broad, strong back through the thick fabric of his coat.
“We’re almost to the road.”
It was the longest fifteen minutes ever. Immediately upon dismounting, she examined General. The poor horse was on the verge of collapsing.
She got on her cell phone, and breathed a sigh of relief when her call connected.
“Hi, Dad.” She summarized the situation, including how Gabe had rescued her and General.
“I’m glad you’re all right and that Gabe was riding by.” Relief filled his voice. “He’s a good man.”
Reese knew her father’s praise was sincere. The rivalry between him and August Dempsey was strictly over business and had nothing to do with character. In another lifetime, under different circumstances, the two might have been friends.
“I’ll tell him myself when I see him,” her father continued.
“No, Dad. You’ve had a long day.” She turned away from Gabe, who still sat astride the mare, and said in a low voice, “You need your rest. Send Enrico.”
“He’ll drive, but I’m damn well going with him.”
It was the best she could hope for. Her father was a stubborn old fool when he set his mind to something. Like not telling anyone about his Parkinson’s. How
long could he realistically expect to keep hiding his disease? He was starting to show symptoms, and people were becoming suspicious. Like Enrico, who’d worked for the McGraws since before Reese had left.
“Fine.” What choice did she have, short of telling Enrico? And her father would never forgive her for that. He was a proud man. “See you when you get here.”
“Be careful, honey.”
Reese glanced at Gabe, then chided herself. Of course, her father was referring to General. She had nothing to worry about from Gabe, who was scrutinizing her every move with those compelling eyes of his.
She said goodbye and disconnected the call. Returning to the weary horse, she gave his neck a loving stroke.
Eying Gabe, she said, “You’d better hurry if you want to get home before dark.”
“I’ll wait until your ride gets here.”
“It could be a while.”
Truthfully, she had no idea how long her father and Enrico would be. She was simply providing Gabe with an excuse to leave.
“I have time.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “The house is filled with food.”
She could well imagine. As expected, friends and family had stopped by, dropping off casseroles, covered dishes and baked goods as they paid their respects. Food and funerals seemed to go together.
“Are you?” Gabe asked. “Hungry?”
“A little.” Between the service this morning, caring for her father and worrying about tomorrow’s reading of the will, she’d missed lunch.
Riding General hadn’t been solely to exercise the barn-bound horse. She’d needed a mental vacation in the worst way.
“Mostly I’m cold,” she added.
Gabe dismounted, unbuckled the saddlebag and reached inside. A moment later, he produced a yellow rain poncho and a small, rectangular object she couldn’t quite make out.
“Here.” He approached her, his stride confident and, she had to admit, sexy.
A small thrill wound through her. She blamed the stressful events of the day. It couldn’t possibly be attraction. To Gabe Dempsey? No way.
“Here.” He shook out the rain poncho, removed her hat and placed the poncho over her head.
“I don’t need—”
“Shut up, Reese.” He replaced her hat and fastened the top snap on the poncho, the one beneath her chin. “It’ll help keep you warm.”
The thrill turned into a flush as his fingers brushed her exposed skin. Who needed a poncho when Gabe’s proximity was enough to warm her from the inside?
“O...kay.” Please don’t let him notice the effect he was having on her.
“Here.” He lifted her hand and pressed the object he’d taken from the saddlebag into it. “Enjoy.”
She stared at the energy bar. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because...”
“You’re as stubborn as your father.” A smile touched his lips.
She thought it might be his first one in days or even weeks. Nothing could be worse than losing a loved one.
“I’ll eat this,” she said, “but only if we share.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss McGraw.”
He hadn’t seen anything yet. Just wait until they butted heads over his father’s estate.
Ripping open the wrapper, she removed the energy bar and broke it in half.
He accepted the piece, his fingers brushing hers. Was it intentional? She wouldn’t put it past him. Gabe had always been a ladies’ man, starting in high school. She was surprised he’d reached the age of thirty without some woman snapping him up.
Then again, no one had snapped up Reese, either, though she’d come close once. Perhaps Gabe was like her, married to his work.
They didn’t speak while they ate. Reese stared up the road. No sign of her father yet. When she was done with her half of the energy bar, she checked again on General, then returned to Gabe, pulling the poncho closer around her.
“Still cold?” Gabe asked.
“A little.”
“We could huddle for warmth.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
His smile returned. “I don’t bite, Reese.”
Sweet heaven, he was gorgeous. “I’m fine.” She was not letting Gabe touch her, much less hold her.
Headlights appeared in the distance, about a mile up the road. Reese released a long sigh. As assistant manager of Southern Arizona Bank, it was her job, her duty, to conduct herself professionally and impersonally with the Dempsey family. Huddling with Gabe, even for warmth in extreme weather conditions, wasn’t either of those things.
She waved as the truck and trailer neared. “Dad’s here. You don’t have to stay.”
“All right,” he said, his tone unreadable, and mounted the mare.
“What about your poncho?”
“Keep it.” Gabe tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “See you around.”
She watched him ride off into the darkness toward Dos Estrellas, barely noticing the truck rumble to a stop behind her.
He’d do more than see her around. Thanks to August Dempsey revising his will six months ago, Reese was about to become a fixture in the Dempsey brothers’ lives, and there was nothing they could do to change it.
Chapter Two
“If you’ll all please have a seat, we can get started.” Hector Fuentes made a sweeping gesture that included everyone in the spacious living room. He lowered himself onto the cowhide upholstered recliner where Gabe’s father had once dozed every afternoon while waiting for Raquel Salazar, Gabe’s mother, to finish putting supper on the table.
Better it was the family attorney occupying his father’s favorite chair than one of his half brothers, Gabe thought sourly.
Brothers. The word still sounded strange to him. Two full days in their company had made no difference. Neither had attending the funeral together yesterday or sharing coffee with them before spreading their father’s ashes in the flower garden this morning. Gabe didn’t know these men.
It was his mother’s idea they take the guest suite in the house rather than stay at the Wild Horse Bed and Breakfast in town. “They’re family,” she’d told Gabe. “Your father would have wanted it. And we have plenty of room.”
Gabe had seethed in silence instead of arguing. Did his mother have to be so nice to them? If they inherited the ranch, she’d be thrown out of her home.
After casting tentative glances at each other, the brothers in question sat in matching wingback chairs—which happened to be directly opposite Gabe, his mother and Cara Alvarez. Cara was the daughter of Raquel’s childhood friend Leena and had lived with Gabe’s family the past two years.
Consciously or subconsciously, Gabe, Raquel and Cara had made a united front on the couch.
No one else had been invited to the reading of the will, giving Gabe reason to believe those present were the only ones named as beneficiaries.
He swallowed, but the knot of pain residing above his heart didn’t loosen. Those two men shouldn’t be here. His father had promised Gabe the ranch. Many times over.
What had changed August Dempsey’s mind at the eleventh hour? Was the cancer to blame? Had all the medications and treatments ravaged his body and mind? Or had he lied to Gabe and intended to give the ranch to his legitimate sons all along, leaving Gabe with nothing?
Using his briefcase as a lap desk, Hector Fuentes cleared his throat and tapped a thin stack of papers into a perfect rectangle. “If it’s all right with everyone, I’ll skip the standard legalese and get right to the bequests. I’ve brought copies of the entire will for everyone and will distribute them later to those who want one.”
Gabe wanted a copy. He’d bet his brothers would, t
oo.
Hector smiled at Cara before beginning. “To Cara Alvarez, who has been like a daughter to Raquel and myself, I grant exclusive use of five hundred acres of Dos Estrellas pasture land, to include parcels six, seven and eight, for her mustang sanctuary.”
Cara’s hand flew to her mouth, and she inhaled sharply. The sanctuary and its horses meant a great deal to her. For his father to include her in his will showed how much he’d considered her to be part of the family.
His mother bit back a sob and placed an arm around Cara’s shoulders.
“Cara is to have use of the parcels for as long as she wants,” Hector continued, “or for as long as Dos Estrellas remains in the family.”
Remains in the family. The words gave Gabe hope. His father wouldn’t have allowed Cara exclusive use of nearly one-sixth of the ranch and not bequeath Gabe the entirety of it. Nothing else made sense.
Hector continued, outlining the specifics. “Do you have any questions?” he asked Cara when he was done.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.
“Raquel, the love of my life, and Cara both,” Hector said, “will continue to reside at Dos Estrellas and occupy the ranch house for as long as they choose or for as long as the ranch remains in the family.”
Again, Cara inhaled sharply and his mother softly sobbed. Gabe, on the other hand, began to worry. What was with the wording, as long as the ranch remains in the family? Twice his father had used it. There must be some significance.
“Any questions?” Hector repeated when he’d finished with the specifics.
“No,” Gabe’s mother and Cara replied simultaneously.
Hector then listed smaller bequests. Gabe’s mother was to receive ownership of August’s favorite dog. She, along with Gabe and a close cousin, were to get his jewelry, personal items and cherished mementos.
Gabe studied his brothers’ faces during the reading. He wouldn’t recognize either of them as being related to him or their father. Other than the fact they all three stood over six feet tall, there were no noticeable physical similarities. With their blond hair and blue eyes, Josh, the oldest brother, and Cole must resemble their mother.
Her Holiday Rancher Page 2
