Her Holiday Rancher

by Cathy McDavid

  Maybe Gabe could contest the will. Or, there was a loophole giving him leverage over Reese. He had to find out, and Hector was the only one able to give him the answer.

  Chapter Five

  “Smells great, Mom.”

  “Gabriel, mijo. Did you put the extra leaf in the dining room table?”

  “All done.”

  “And move the flowers to the living room?”

  “Yep.” Over a week had passed since the funeral and there were a dozen-plus floral and plant arrangements still alive and thriving. Gabe knew his mother didn’t have the heart to throw them out.

  “Good,” she pronounced. “Now Cara can finish with the place settings.”

  Opening the oven door, Raquel checked the turkey and sides roasting inside. A blast of warmth filled the kitchen, along with an array of incredibly delicious aromas.

  “You need any help?” he asked.

  “I’m okay for now. Maybe in a little while.” She shut the oven door, wiped her forehead with the back of her oven-mitted hand and sighed.

  Along with the turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry relish and pumpkin pie, his mother had prepared a pot of beans, another pot of rice, two dozen beef enchiladas and a bowl of the hottest homemade salsa this side of Mustang Valley. In lieu of rolls or bread, warm flour tortillas would be served.

  The Dempseys and Salazars had been a culturally blended family for as long as Gabe could remember. Being originally from Hermosillo, Mexico, the Salazars didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. It was different for August Dempsey. The holiday had a special meaning because it fell near the date his grandfather had purchased the land for Dos Estrellas. To please him, Gabe’s mother prepared a big dinner, substituting favorite Mexican dishes for other, more common, American ones.

  Gabe wondered what his brothers would think of the unusual menu. They’d returned from California late yesterday afternoon, driving two trucks and hauling two trailers. One was a rented moving van containing their personal belongings. The other, a horse trailer. They’d brought six of their personal mounts, four of which were Cole’s championship calf-roping horses.

  Without trying to be obvious, Gabe had looked the horses over last night as his brothers unloaded them. All appeared fit and stout with an alertness shining in their eyes. They weren’t, however, ranch horses, and there was a big difference between roping calves in the rodeo ring and herding them across open range.

  They might be trainable. Time would tell. He decided to see how badly his brothers floundered before stepping in and giving them pointers.

  Not his choice. Unfortunately, Gabe’s visit to Hector’s office last week had been a complete waste of time. The attorney, not bothering to hide his impatience with Gabe, assured him there was nothing to be done about either Gabe’s brothers or Reese’s position as trustee.

  The sting had diminished, these past few days. Actually, who was he kidding? Gabe had chosen to ignore his frustration and anger rather than obsess about it. Perhaps after the holidays, when he had a better handle on the situation, he could try again.

  Try what, exactly? Bang his head against the proverbial wall?

  “Mijo, can you stir the beans for me?”

  Grabbing the large wooden spoon, he did as his mother requested. There was hardly any space on the stove top. As usual, she’d prepared enough food to feed a small village.

  Cara breezed into the kitchen. “The table’s set. What else do you need, Tia Raquel?”

  Gabe was glad to see her smiling. The holidays were difficult for her since she’d lost her young son two years ago. Gabe supposed it would be the same for him and his mother from now on.

  “Where are Josh and Cole?” he asked.

  “The backyard, last I checked.” Cara stood on tiptoes and glanced out the window over the sink. “Yeah, they’re sitting in the lawn chairs.”

  It annoyed Gabe that his brothers weren’t inside with the rest of the family, helping with dinner or, at the least, socializing. Then again, he and Cara hadn’t done much to make them feel welcomed. Just his mother.

  “Cara, why don’t you tell them we’ll be ready to eat in about a half hour?”

  “I think they’re fine for the time being.” Cara caught Gabe’s eye and sent him the same conspiratorial look they’d often shared through the years. She was on his side and letting him know it.

  The front doorbell rang.

  “Who could that be?” Cara started across the kitchen.

  With so many people showing up in recent weeks, and Gabe’s brothers still settling in, his mother had suggested they limit dinner to immediate family. Gabe had heartily agreed.

  “Let Gabe answer the door.” His mother caught Cara by the shirtsleeve, and presented her with a strainer. “You drain the beans. My arthritis is bothering my hands.”

  Gabe had exactly one second to contemplate the oddness of his mother’s remark—she’d been using her hands all day cooking without complaint—when the doorbell rang again.

  “I’ll get rid of them,” Gabe said, already on his way.

  “Nonsense.” His mother’s voice trailed after him. “Invite her in.”

  He didn’t register his mother’s use of the word her until he threw open the door. Seeing their guest, he silently cursed himself for not paying better attention.

  Reese held a pink dessert box and a bottle of wine. Gabe stared like an idiot, struck dumb by her unexpected appearance and the killer tight jeans she wore, made sexier by her knee-high boots and a super-short jacket hugging her narrow waist. Her hair was pinned to the back of her head in a tidy knot that made Gabe think about removing the pins and sifting his fingers through the thick, silky strands.

  If she had dressed like this the other day at the bank, he might not have been so angry at her for turning down his request.

  After a moment, she tilted her head at an appealing angle. “Can I come in?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  She held up the dessert box and wine bottle. “These are for your mother. She invited me. Also my dad, but he can’t make it.”

  “You’re kidding.” Gabe didn’t know whether to be angry at his mom or impressed by her audacity. And at Reese’s audacity for accepting the invitation. “Why would she do that?”

  “I didn’t ask her, but, if I was to venture a guess, I’d say she’s trying to smooth out any difficulties in my working relationship with your family.”

  “Okay, but why did you agree to come?”

  “The same reason.”

  He studied her one moment longer before standing back and allowing her to enter. He was glad he did for she gave off a hint of the most intriguing fragrance as she breezed past him.

  One look at her walking away from him in those jeans and he wanted to investigate further.

  She paused in the middle of the living room, waiting for him to catch up. He forced himself to not run.

  “I’m sorry about the other day,” she said. “I know you don’t believe me, but I really didn’t want to turn down your request.”

  “Too late now, the broker sold the cattle to another buyer.”

  “There’ll be more cattle on the market. Maybe at a better price.”

  “And I’ll still have to come begging to you with my hat in my hand.”

  “You didn’t beg.”

  “And I never will.” He hitched his chin toward the kitchen. “We’re eating in the dining room, but everyone’s in the kitchen.”

  Gabe was shocked his mother had invited Reese, and not because of the obvious reasons.

  Their guests at holiday dinners were always close friends. Seldom family. The rift between Gabe’s father and brothers wasn’t the only one plaguing the Dempseys. His mother, while close to his grandmother, barely spoke to his grandfather. Gabe wasn’t e
ntirely sure of the reason for their estrangement, but he could guess. His abuelo Salazar hadn’t approved of Gabe’s father and the fact his mother began their relationship as an affair with a married man.

  Gabe barely knew his maternal grandparents. They used to visit once a year in the summer when Gabe was little, staying at the bed-and-breakfast in town. That practice stopped years ago. They hadn’t even attended August’s funeral, though his grandmother had called, as she did frequently throughout the year.

  “You first.” Gabe gestured to Reese.

  She walked confidently ahead of him into the kitchen. If she felt out of place or awkward, she didn’t let it show. The same couldn’t be said about his brothers. Since their return, their discomfort hung on them like ill-fitting shirts.

  “You’re here.” Gabe’s mother abandoned arranging the condiment tray and engulfed Reese in a friendly hug, which she returned as best she could with her hands full. “I’m so glad. How’s your father?”

  “He’s sorry he couldn’t come.”

  Gabe still couldn’t believe his mother had invited Theo McGraw. Was she crazy? Maybe she was taking his father’s death harder than he thought.

  “These are for you.” Reese held out the dessert box and wine to Raquel. “I hope you like pecan pie.”

  Gabe’s mother beamed. “It was August’s favorite.”

  How did Reese know that? Coincidence? Gabe wondered.

  “Dad told me.” She smiled warmly. “I guess August ordered it during the ranchers’ monthly get-togethers at the Cowboy Up Café.”

  Gabe had attended those meetings numerous times with his father. August and Theo McGraw had always sat on opposite sides of the restaurant. Either Reese’s father possessed superhuman vision and could see great distances or...

  Was it possible the two men had been friendlier than they’d let on? His father had sometimes spoken well of Theo McGraw, when he wasn’t cursing the other man’s existence.

  “Let me take that.” His mother relieved Reese of the wine. “I’ll put it in the refrigerator to chill. You can set the pie on the counter.”

  Gabe couldn’t take his eyes off Reese. She busied herself with the pie, then flitted around the kitchen helping here and there as if she’d visited a hundred times before.

  “Where’s my china platter?” His mother had opened the cupboard and was staring at the top shelf.

  “In the pine trunk, Tia Raquel.” Cara, Gabe noticed, was also watching his mother, with the same bewilderment on her face he felt.

  “Ah, yes.” His mother closed the cabinet and smiled with satisfaction. “I forgot.”

  She normally had the memory of an elephant. But she’d had a lot on her mind lately. Gabe could understand her forgetting where she left something.

  “Will you get it for me, Gabe? The trunk is in the garage.”

  “Sure.”

  “Take Reese with you. For an extra set of eyes.”

  The request smacked of a setup. That would explain how his mother seemingly forgot the location of the platter.

  “I can manage, Mom.”

  “Nonsense. What else is Reese to do with herself?”

  “I’d be happy to go with you,” she said, giving Gabe reason to wonder if she was in on things.

  No. His mother worked alone, never able to make an ally of him or Cara when it came to her often-outrageous schemes. Reese was probably innocent. Like him. But he wasn’t ignorant. Whatever reason his mother had for getting him and Reese alone, he didn’t care. Her plan would fail.

  “All right,” he said. “Follow me.”

  They walked from the kitchen, through the laundry room and out the door leading to the garage. Gabe flipped on the light switch and indicated a step down.

  “Watch it.” He resisted taking her hand.

  The pine chest sat against the wall, covered by an old quilt. In addition to the platter, his mother kept an assortment of other, seldom used, holiday relics.

  Removing the quilt, Gabe lifted the lid on the chest, trying hard to ignore Reese’s proximity. She didn’t need to stand right beside him.

  “I’m glad your mother suggested I go with you.”

  He straightened, one hand resting on the chest lid. “You are?”

  “I was rude to you the other day at the bank. This gives us a chance to talk.”

  “We cleared the air when you first arrived.”

  “I wanted to tell you why Blake was at the bank.”

  Not what Gabe was expecting to hear. “Like you said, it’s none of my business.”

  “Yes...and no. You’re one of the few people besides him who knows I was pregnant.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.

  “You’re right. But I’d like to. You’ve kept my secret a lot of years, and I appreciate it.”

  “Okay.” Gabe closed the lid on the chest without removing the platter. He sat, then patted the spot next to him. “I’m listening.”

  * * *

  WHAT HAD SEEMED like a good idea now felt like a colossal mistake. Had she lost her mind, suggesting she and Gabe talk? Yes, she regretted having to decline his request for a draw on the line of credit. That was no reason to reveal her past and what occurred after the night of their senior prom.

  She paced the garage floor in front of Gabe, not accepting his invitation to sit beside him. The pine chest was small. Okay, not minuscule. But if she sat beside him, they’d be elbow to elbow. Thigh to thigh. Hardly conducive to pouring her heart out.

  “I promise not to bite,” he said, tracking her every step.

  Bite? Her throat felt suddenly dry as she imagined his teeth tugging playfully on her neck or on the inside of her arm. Swallowing didn’t help.

  “This is harder than I anticipated,” she said.

  Gabe grabbed her hand and tugged her onto the chest. Reese gasped softly. She’d been right. They were elbow to elbow. Thigh to thigh. His legs were strong and muscular, the result of hard physical labor every day of his life.

  Her father had been strong once, with the build of a professional athlete. The Parkinson’s had sucked every last ounce of strength out of him.

  But that wasn’t what she wanted to tell Gabe. Gathering her courage—they didn’t have much time, dinner would be served soon—she began in a halting voice.

  “The reason Blake stormed out of my office was because he didn’t like my answer regarding his business with the bank.”

  “There’s a lot of that going around.”

  She searched his face, unsure if he was teasing or serious. The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. Teasing, she decided.

  “It wasn’t personal and wasn’t about our daughter.”

  “Daughter?” Gabe studied her intently. “You had the baby, then?”

  “Yes.” She shifted, but there was no escaping. Short of her getting up, Gabe’s body parts and hers would remain touching. With some effort, Reese refocused her attention. “And, to answer your next question, Blake knows about Celia.”

  Gabe shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

  “But you were wondering. His wife, Wynonna, knows, too.”

  “Did he tell her before or after they were married?”

  “I never asked. It didn’t matter.”

  “That must have been hard. Giving up your child. Or am I assuming wrong?”

  She nodded. “You’re right. About me giving her up and how hard it was. The hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Even coping with her father’s illness didn’t compare. “But I was barely eighteen when she was born and incapable of providing for a child.”

  “Your father would have—”

  “Not an option.”

  Reese would not discuss her family’s complex dynamics with Gabe, and how disappointed and brokenhearted her s
traitlaced father would have been with her—for getting pregnant and having a relationship with an engaged man. She wouldn’t have blamed him. But because of Celia, she didn’t regret her actions. What she did regret was the difficult position she’d put Blake in, and she accepted full responsibility.

  “Celia was adopted by my cousin Megan in Oregon,” she continued. “We have a long-distance relationship. When the time’s right, and Celia’s ready, my cousin and I have agreed Celia can come to Mustang Valley for a visit. Hopefully, to meet my father.”

  “I thought he still didn’t know about her.”

  “Things have...changed lately. I’m, well, ready to tell Dad, and I think he’ll be more receptive.” She exhaled. “Celia’s asked to meet him. Maybe after the first of the year. Or her spring break from school.”

  “What about Blake?”

  “He’s less inclined to establish a relationship with her.”

  Gabe called Blake an unflattering name under his breath.

  “Don’t be so quick to judge.” Amazingly, once she got started, she found talking to Gabe not hard at all. “Blake was involved with Wynonna long before I pursued him. I knew he was engaged from the start.” She took a moment to collect herself. “I was young and stupid and thought I was in love. To my shame, I took advantage of a rough patch he and Wynonna were going through. My mistake was in thinking he’d break off the engagement and not get back together with her. His mistake, too, I suppose, for leading me on.”

  “Whatever the circumstances, he’s still Celia’s father.”

  “And the father of two other children with his wife, who may not want to or be ready to accept Celia in their lives. I respect their choice.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Gabe insisted. “He has a responsibility.”

  “Not financially, he doesn’t. Any obligation was eliminated when he consented to the adoption. That was part of our agreement.”

  “He has a kid living in Oregon and doesn’t care enough to see her?”

  Reese could see how Gabe related to Celia and superimposed his own feelings onto her. He was also the illegitimate child of a parent with two legitimate sons. The difference was Celia, who had no conflicting emotions.