“To pay a call on your father.”
“Gabe.”
His pickup was parked near the barn, and he was on a collision course with it. “Butt out, Reese. If this really wasn’t your idea, then it doesn’t concern you.”
“There are things you don’t know. About my father.”
“I don’t care.” He yanked open the truck’s driver’s side door.
Reese couldn’t let him get away. Couldn’t let him storm her house and confront her father. Cutting in front of the truck, she hurried to the passenger side door.
“What are you doing?” Gabe growled when she climbed inside.
She prayed she was preventing a disaster. “If you’re going to talk to my father, it’ll be with me there.”
* * *
EVERYTHING AT THE Small Change was twice as big as Dos Estrellas. The length of the driveway and the square arch adorning the entrance. The size of the main barn and livestock pens. The amount of grassland and grazing cattle. The height of the spouting water in the courtyard fountain. The damn wrought iron knocker on the front door.
Reese hadn’t suggested that Gabe park around back, so he’d pulled his truck up parallel to the brick walkway leading to the front door. She’d come along, right beside him. So much for his plan of bursting in on her father unannounced.
They’d spoken once during the drive when she asked to use his phone, claiming hers was dead. He’d refused. Mean, yes, but he’d wanted whatever small advantage he could get.
Theo McGraw must have heard Gabe’s truck screech to a gravel-spitting stop for he threw the door open just as Gabe crossed the threshold.
Taking in the two of them, he grinned affably. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Dad, Gabe wants to—”
Gabe cut her off. “I hope to hell you told Cole no.”
He’d been in such an all-fire hurry to confront Theo, he’d forgotten to ask Reese how her father had responded to Cole’s offer.
“Come in.” Theo stepped back.
Gabe hesitated, afraid that accepting his enemy’s invitation might show weakness. Ultimately, good manners prevailed, and he let Reese enter first. She’d hardly stepped across the threshold when he pushed inside.
Confronted by the beautifully appointed living room, with its cowhide-upholstered sofa, hand-carved bookcases and framed original oil paintings depicting cattle drives and local wildlife, Gabe stopped. He’d been to the Small Change before. A few times. Never inside the main house, though.
Were he calling on anyone else, he’d have commented on what a nice place they had.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Theo said. “Reese made some iced tea this morning.”
“No, thank you.”
“Sweetheart.” He turned to Reese. “Can you give us a minute alone?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m pretty sure our guest will conduct himself civilly.” He raised a bushy brow at Gabe. “And I promise not to hit him unless he throws the first punch.”
Reese sighed. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“No need to check on us unless I call for you.”
She left the room reluctantly. Gabe wouldn’t put it past her to hover nearby and eavesdrop.
“Now that she’s gone.” Theo McGraw rubbed his palms together. “Maybe I can interest you in a drink. Your father liked whiskey.”
“Did he come here much?” Gabe was suddenly curious. “He never said.”
“On occasion.”
“What did Cole have to drink when he was here?”
Theo laughed and slapped his thigh.
Not that Gabe was well acquainted with the man, but there was something different about him. He looked older. Frailer. And there was a slight shakiness in his voice. When he walked over to the dry bar, his gait was slow and deliberate, as if he was carefully placing each foot in front of the other.
Going behind the bar, Theo removed two crystal tumblers from the shelf and a fifth of whiskey from the cabinet. “Straight up?”
Gabe was about to refuse. Again, he reconsidered, not wanting to appear weak. “Only if you’ll join me.”
“With pleasure.” Theo’s grin grew wider. “My daughter is going to have a fit. I’m not supposed to drink.”
“Then I’ll pass.” Gabe ambled to the bar.
“Not on your life. It’s not every day the son of August Dempsey pays me a visit. That’s reason to celebrate.”
Cole had visited Theo earlier, yet he’d referred to Gabe as August Dempsey’s son. Against his will, Gabe warmed to his host.
Theo poured, a bit sloppily. Whiskey splashed onto the bar counter. He passed Gabe the first glass. When he was done pouring his own, he raised his glass in toast. “To August.”
A moment ago, Gabe had been ready to throttle Theo. Now, they clinked glasses and tossed back their shots of whiskey. Gabe’s burned going down. Not in a bad way.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said when he could speak again.
Theo coughed, wheezed and pounded his chest. “No, I didn’t offer Cole a drink.”
Gabe almost smiled. Theo was no dummy, and he could play with the best of them. “Did you turn him down?”
“I said I’d think about it.”
“Don’t buy his share of Dos Estrellas.”
Theo met his gaze head on. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Gabe wasn’t about to admit his plans to buy out his brothers, to Theo. “Because you’re a better man than to kick someone when they’re down. And, much as I hate to admit it, we’re down. Deep down in a financial hole.”
“I’ve had my eye on your ranch for a lot of years. Here’s my opportunity.”
“You’d be buying into a lot of debt.”
“True.” He sipped at the remainder of his whiskey rather than gulping it, a look of contentment on his face. “This hits the spot. Reese complains if I drink, says it’s bad for my...health.”
“She doesn’t want you to buy Cole’s share.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “She tell you that?”
Gabe shook his head. “She came over to warn me about Cole. It’s almost the same thing.”
“Always had a moral compass, that one. She could have blamed me for her mother leaving. I wasn’t the best husband.” His expression turned tender. “She didn’t. Stayed by me.”
“Mr. McGraw.”
“Call me Theo.”
Gabe exhaled slowly. He wasn’t in the mood to indulge the other man’s stroll down memory lane. “Okay, Theo. I can’t stop Cole from selling you his share, and I can’t stop you from buying it. But I’m asking you to give me six months.”
“What happens then?”
“I’m going to buy Cole’s share. Hopefully, Josh’s, too.”
“Why would I wait?”
Gabe didn’t have the chance to answer.
“How’s it going?” Reese asked as she entered the living room, clearly defying her father’s wishes. She glanced first at her father, then Gabe.
Theo laughed and slapped his thigh again. “The girl can’t take orders. You should remember that.”
Gabe wondered if Theo knew about him and Reese. No, impossible.
“As you can see, dear daughter,” Theo continued, “we’re both still in one piece. No punches thrown.”
Gabe swore under his breath. He hadn’t had a chance to finish his conversation with Theo, and he wouldn’t in front of Reese. “I’d better go.”
“Nonsense,” Theo said. “You’re my guest. Stay.”
“Are you drinking whiskey?” Reese marched over to him, then frowned at Gabe. “Was this your idea?”
“Don’t blame him,” said Theo. “I’m the one who broke out the bottle.”
> “Dad!” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Gabe didn’t need to witness the McGraw family dynamics. He had plenty of his own. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He started for the door and got no more than three feet before Theo lost his balance, banged into the bar and then hit the floor with an agonizing cry.
“Dad!”
Gabe rushed to Theo and knelt beside him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Damned rug.”
It wasn’t the rug. The older man’s legs had simply gone out from under him.
By now, Reese was also kneeling beside her father. “Did you hit your head?”
“My elbow.” He tried pushing up, only to collapse in either exhaustion or pain.
“Let me.” Gabe stood and, getting a firm grip on Theo’s uninjured arm, lifted him to a sitting position.
Theo sat and held his head as if the room was spinning. “Give me a minute.”
Gabe gave him three before assisting him to his feet. Next, he carefully walked Theo to the nearest chair and sat him down.
“I’ll get you some water,” Reese said.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“You shouldn’t have been drinking.”
“Please quit your nagging.” Rather than harsh, Theo’s request was imploring.
Gabe could see Reese struggled to keep quiet. “Should we call 9-1-1?” he asked.
“Maybe.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“Hell, no!”
“If you can protest like that,” Gabe gripped Theo’s shoulder, “then you must be feeling better.”
Neither Reese nor her father acknowledged his joke. Their worried faces indicated more going on. What was it Reese had told Gabe back at Dos Estrellas before he’d made a mad dash for his truck?
There are things you don’t know. About my father.
Whereas Gabe had been anxious to leave a short time ago, he was now hesitant.
“I’m going to call your doctor,” Reese said.
“And have him charge me another co-pay.” Theo shook his head. “Not on your life.”
“Let me see your elbow.” She reached for him.
He, in turn, yanked his injured arm out of her reach. “Leave me alone, dagnabbit.”
Various versions of this same exchange continued for several more minutes. Gabe saw that Theo was growing stronger. When he felt relatively certain his host was in no immediate danger, he said, “I’m going to let you two hammer this out alone.”
“Wait.” Theo grabbed Gabe’s wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong. “I’ll give you that six months.”
Gabe nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“On one condition. You tell no one what happened.”
He didn’t need to elaborate. Gabe understood. For whatever reason, Theo wanted his fall to remain a secret.
“Agreed.”
“Reese.” Theo hitched his chin at the door. “Would you be so kind as to see our guest out?”
“My car,” she exclaimed, suddenly remembering. “It’s at Gabe’s house.”
“I’ll drive it here later. Have someone follow me.”
“She needs to get back to work,” Theo said.
“No, I don’t. I called in while you two were talking and told Walt I was taking the afternoon off.”
“Good.” Theo smiled for the first time since his fall. “Then you can go back with Gabe and fetch your car.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.” She crossed her arms.
“I told you, I’m perfectly fine.”
“You’re not.” Tears filled her voice.
“Call Enrico.” Theo’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s about time for his afternoon report.”
Reese looked at Gabe. “Give me a minute.”
Gabe sat on one of the two bar stools. “Take your time.”
“She’s become quite the mother hen,” Theo said when Reese left the room.
“She loves you.”
“I’m a lucky man.”
“You are.”
“The man who wins her heart will be lucky, too.”
Gabe nodded, not sure how to reply.
Reese wasn’t gone long. They waited another few minutes for Enrico to arrive. Gabe doubted his appearance was solely to report the day’s activity to Theo, though the two of them discussed an upcoming cold front. Gabe noticed a look pass between Reese and the burly ranch foreman. If he interpreted it correctly, she was saying, “Call me later.”
This arrangement, Theo falling and Enrico caring for him under the guise of ranch business, didn’t appear to be anything new. Gabe remembered Reese getting a call when her father fell off the porch. And there had been that tremor when he’d poured the shots of whiskey. The man was ill.
Outside, Gabe opened his truck door for Reese, chagrined at his earlier behavior. When she asked if she could use his phone charger, he plugged it in for her.
At Dos Estrellas, he parked next to her car in the driveway. He knew he should let her leave, but he couldn’t. Opening her car door, he took her hand and prevented her from climbing in behind the steering wheel.
“What’s wrong with your father?”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“You came and told me about Cole. You didn’t have to. I realize now I can trust you. You can trust me, too. I’ve proven myself.”
His reminder of their prom night broke down her defenses, and she sobbed softly. “He has Parkinson’s.”
Gabe put an arm around her and pulled her to him. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” He knew better than many what it was like to deal with a severely ill parent. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”
She shook her head.
“Call Enrico. Tell him to make up an excuse to stay with your dad. You need to vent before you have a breakdown.”
Truthfully, he expected her to refuse. She didn’t. Arm in arm, they walked inside the house.
Chapter Ten
“Coffee?”
For a second, Reese almost answered Gabe’s question with I’d prefer a whiskey, but instead bit her tongue. Much as she might like to follow her father’s example and indulge in a dose of liquid courage, she was better off with caffeine. Whiskey might break down her last hold on her emotions, and she’d wind up a weeping mess. Once, in Gabe’s company, was enough.
“Sure. Thanks.”
A gourmet single-serving coffee maker sat on the kitchen counter. While Gabe prepared two cups with practiced ease, Reese threw her coat over the back of the nearest chair and sat at the table. The house was quiet, reminding her that his mother and Cara were gone until late this evening. His brothers, staying in the guest suite, used a separate entrance and, according to Gabe, came into the main house strictly for meals. She and Gabe were completely alone.
Good, when it came to taking him up on his offer for a heartfelt talk. Bad, when it came to their wildly exciting, but inappropriate, attraction. With the way she was feeling right now, getting cozy with Gabe was the last thing on her mind.
Well, maybe not the last thing. He did have a way of consuming her every thought by simply entering the room. And there was something deliciously thrilling about them being alone. Especially during Thanksgiving dinner when Raquel had sent them to the garage on the pretense of fetching the platter, they hadn’t been truly isolated.
“Does anyone besides me know about your dad’s Parkinson’s?” Gabe set a steaming mug in front of her, then, removing his cowboy hat and setting it on the counter, occupied the adjacent chair. He cradled his own mug of coffee between his hands. “Besides you and Enrico.”
“Enrico doesn’t know. Not exactly. I’m convinced he suspects Dad’s ill, but he’s very loyal and won’t say a word.”
She
stared at her mug. The coffee was black.
“Is something wrong?” Gabe asked.
“I hate to be a bother.”
“You?” he teased.
A different day, a different moment when she wasn’t hurting, she’d laugh. “Do you have any creamer?”
He produced three varieties from the refrigerator. “Cara’s doing.”
Reese selected the mocha-flavored creamer. “I got addicted to this stuff in high school.”
“You used to go to the Java Stop after school. I’d see you there.”
She and her group of friends had thought they were cool, frequenting the popular hangout and ordering specialty overpriced coffee drinks. How silly. “You noticed me?”
His tone became soft and low. “I noticed a lot of things about you.”
Noticed and remembered. She was touched, flattered and more enamored than ever. “I wish we’d been friends back then.”
“I wished we’d dated.”
“As I recall, you didn’t like me much.”
“You never gave me a chance.”
She didn’t quite believe him. Their fathers had greatly influenced them when they were younger and not much had changed. Even now Reese could feel her father yanking the invisible strings attached to her.
“I appreciate you respecting Dad’s request to not tell anyone about his Parkinson’s.”
“Like I said, you can trust me.”
“You’ve kept my secret for twelve years. If I haven’t said so before, I appreciate it.”
He shrugged.
“You’re an honorable man, Gabe. It’s a quality not everyone has.”
“Telling people about your father won’t serve any purpose.”
“He’s afraid it would discredit him. If you wanted, you could use that to your advantage. Buyers might hesitate to deal with someone who’s sick and throw business your way.”
“Your father has some physical limitations. I can assure you, though, he’s still sharp as a tack.”
“Oh, yes. I can attest to that.” The hot coffee felt good going down her throat. Holding back her tears this past hour had left it raw. “I just wish he’d let me hire a part-time caregiver. I can’t provide everything he needs and half of what I can, he won’t let me. Too proud.”
Her Holiday Rancher Page 13
