A Hero's Homecoming

by Laurie Paige

  Hmm, Sterling had said Clint Calloway would be at dinner, too. It sounded as if the lawmen planned a big powwow. Maybe they had some news.

  He picked up the rambunctious puppy, then headed out to the truck and drove to town. When he arrived at the deputy’s home, he paused when he saw Carey’s ute already there. He hadn’t known she would be coming.

  The internal pressure built a little more. For a moment, he thought of getting in the pickup and taking off, of hitting the road until he wound up as far from Whitehorn as he had when he’d been eighteen and had left. He could feel the tendrils of the Kincaid name reaching out to engulf him like morning glory winding around a post.

  That’s what happened if a man stayed in one place too long.

  He tucked the pup in his inside jacket pocket and hurried up the sidewalk, his steps careful because the ground was covered in crusty snow that had melted, then frozen on top. He cursed once when he slipped and caught himself.

  Sterling opened the door. “Come in. Sorry I didn’t get the walk cleaned yesterday.”

  “That’s okay. You lawmen types have more important things to do.”

  The deputy chief investigator grinned at his friendly gibe and held the door wide.

  Wayne kept his arms folded over the front of his jacket, one hand inside to soothe the excitable pup. He’d cleared the gift with Jessica beforehand, having learned his lesson in dealing with mothers from Carey.

  In the living room, he found Carey talking to Clint Calloway and his wife. He hesitated before stepping forward to shake hands with his half brother.

  “This is my wife, Dakota,” Clint said.

  Wayne had once known her family. She’d been Dakota Winston of the Montana Winstons, an old family with mining, timber and cattle connections just like the Kincaids, and just as rich. Like him, she’d opted out of that life by becoming a cop. Interesting what people did to find a life of their own.

  She had blue eyes that were a startling contrast to her black hair. For a cynical moment, he wondered if she was another of Jeremiah’s bastard kids. She wasn’t, but the more he learned of his father, the harder it was not to speculate about everyone he met.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” he said to Carey. “Nice to see you.”

  Surprise darted through her eyes at his formality, but she smiled and asked him how he was feeling.

  They each acted as if he hadn’t spent the previous night in her bed. He’d left before first light to return to the ranch and the never-ending work there, but he’d been driven from her bed by more than a sense of duty.

  “Fine. My hip hasn’t bothered me at all. Tell Kane he did a good job.” The squirming in his pocket reminded him he’d better not tarry over polite conversation. He glanced at Sterling. “I have a little something for Jennifer.”

  “She’s in her room. Jessica is there with her. This way.” He guided Wayne down the hall.

  In the child’s room, he found Sophie putting on a show with paper dolls for Jenny. The three-year-old, still thin, but not as pale, was laughing. The sound grabbed his heart and wouldn’t let go.

  “Hi, Wayne,” Sophie cried, spotting him behind Sterling. “We’re having a doll party. Want to come?”

  His insides gave one of those painful twangs it was prone to lately at her cheerful welcome. “I have a little something for Jenny I thought she might like. You can give her some helpful hints on taking care of it.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. She erupted into giggles when he removed the puppy from his pocket. He set the little female on the bed beside Jenny. “It’s a girl.”

  “She’s mine?” Jenny looked at her mother. “Really mine? I can keep her?”

  Jessica nodded. “You need to think of a name—oh.”

  At that moment, the pup squatted on the coverlet.

  Wayne scooped it up and put it on the floor. “Sorry. I suggest she be kept in a box until she learns her manners.”

  Both girls stared at Jessica to see what she would say. The mother laughed and, grabbing a handful of tissues, swabbed up the drop on the cover and the rest on the floor.

  “I think we can honestly say her new home has been duly christened.” She looked at her husband. “Is there a box in the garage?”

  After taking care of the minor emergency, the adults returned to the living room, leaving the girls to think of a name for the new pet.

  “I hope it isn’t a variety of Freeway,” Carey mentioned drolly. She explained about Highway.

  They came up with Byway, Pathway and Speedway as possibilities and were still laughing when they went in to dinner. Clint and Dakota sat on one side of the table, Wayne and Carey on the other.

  She looked especially beautiful tonight. She wore a long plaid skirt of blue and brown and green with a thin black stripe. Her low-heeled boots were black. A sweater, green and clingy, showed off her figure—a fact that sent a warm hum through him. She’d even put on blush and a soft red lipstick. He smiled at that.

  During the meal, he realized the others were already treating them as a couple. It added to his uneasiness. He was out of place in the family scene.

  The chilly wind of forewarning slid down his neck. He’d need to leave soon. When spring came.

  After they finished the meal, Jessica and Carey went to check on the girls, while Dakota volunteered to serve coffee. The three men settled in the living room.

  Sterling cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”

  Wayne tensed.

  “Jessica and I want you two to share the ranch with Jennifer.”

  “Hey, no way. I don’t want any part of the Kincaid holdings,” Clint protested.

  “Same here. I told you that,” Wayne added. “The lawyer is drawing up a quit-claim now.”

  The deputy held up a hand as if stopping traffic. “Hear me out, please. If anything happened to me and Jessica, what would become of Jenny?”

  The two men looked at each other, but neither had an answer.

  “Exactly,” Sterling said. “There’d be long-lost relatives coming out of the woodwork, wanting a piece of her inheritance. You two are the closest relatives she has. I know you both care about her. I want the Kincaid holdings split three ways among you.”

  “We’re both grown men. We’ve made our lives,” Wayne reminded the lawman. “Jenny has a future to look to.”

  “Maybe. If we can save the ranch. Luckily, it’s paid for. The land and buildings are worth ten million. The cattle and machinery another million, maybe more. That’s a lot for a kid to handle. I don’t like the idea of Jenny having that hanging over her head.”

  Dakota brought in a tray with filled cups and carefully placed it on the coffee table. She glanced up sharply at this last announcement.

  Clint shook his head. “Jeremiah Kincaid had nothing to do with me when he was alive. I don’t want anything of his now that he’s gone.”

  “I feel the same,” Wayne said.

  “That’s not the point.” Sterling gave each man a piercing stare, then settled on Wayne. “You’re the only legitimate heir. Even when a case has been settled and after-discovered heirs discredited, it can be reopened on new evidence. If you died, someone could come forward as your heir and tie Jenny up in court for years…until the ranch is more than just strapped for cash. If it became flat broke, we’d have to sell out.”

  Wayne snorted. “You don’t have to worry on my account. I don’t have any heirs, legitimate or otherwise.”

  “But you might have a family someday,” Sterling persisted. “They could grow to resent the fact that you gave up their heritage—”

  “I don’t intend to have any heirs, not now and not in the future.” The words came out harsh, filled with the loathing he’d felt toward his father for his callous ways.

  All the resentment of his youth boiled to the surface—the pressure to act as the Kincaid golden boy, the push on him to always be the best, the need to live up to someone else’s standards and expectations.

&nbs
p; He didn’t want the baggage that came with being a Kincaid. He’d opted out of the life twenty-five years ago. There was no going back.

  Jessica and Carey entered the room. From the way they avoided his eyes, he guessed they’d heard his declaration. Jessica took a seat next to her husband. Carey, instead of sitting beside him on the love seat, chose to perch on a chair across the room from him.

  He cursed mentally, but didn’t say anything to change or soften his choice of words.

  Sterling took his wife’s hand. “Jessica and I want to ask you two to be the legal guardians of Jenny in case something does happen to us. We’d like you to be co-owners with Jenny and trustees of the ranch along with us. We think that’s best for all concerned.” He glanced from one man to the other.

  Clint rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I don’t want anything from the Kincaid holdings, but I guess I could be a trustee, if you really think it’s necessary.” He looked at Dakota, who nodded and smiled approval at him.

  Sterling answered. “I do.”

  Five pairs of eyes turned to Wayne.

  He drew a deep breath. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.”

  “All right. At any rate, I’m having accounts set up for both of you and Jenny. Any profits the ranch makes will be equally divided among the three of you. Whether you ever claim it or not.” His tone was final.

  Jessica jumped to her feet. “We’ll talk more another time. Now, let’s have dessert. Carey brought over her famous sour cream pound cake with vanilla sauce.”

  The talk returned to the weather, which showed no signs of a warming trend, and cattle prices, which were pretty good at the present. Sterling brought up the ranch again, his thoughts directed at Carey. They discussed the opening of her place and the Kincaid spread as a resort.

  “We’d need someone to manage the whole operation, someone who had the big picture,” Sterling said, looking at Wayne.

  Wayne kept his thoughts to himself.

  “Oh, I just remembered,” Carey spoke up. “Moriah said her father wanted us to know that the outsiders aren’t as pure as their name. Does that ring any bells—”

  “Good God,” Wayne muttered.

  A scene from his past rushed into his mind—his father angry, Homer Gilmore watching from the bunkhouse porch where he’d stopped to cadge a dinner off the cook, himself seated beside the old codger. “PureGrow. That’s who wanted the ranch years ago.”

  Clint leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “PureGrow? That’s the big agri-chemical company that was indicted for unapproved experiments on animals. If they’re looking for land in a remote spot, you can bet it isn’t for altruistic purposes.”

  “The charges were dropped,” Sterling reminded him.

  Clint’s jaw set stubbornly. “They’re bad news.”

  “Lester Buell was the link with PureGrow,” Wayne said. “Have you had any further leads on the guy he called from his cell phone?”

  Sterling looked at Clint. “Did Austin check out the rest of Widdermann’s phone list yet?”

  “He put in a request for his home and office calls. We had to get a judge over in Missoula to okay it. Now that we have an idea what we’re looking for, it should be easier.”

  Sterling relaxed. “Good. I want you to check Wendell Hargrove’s phone lines, too.”

  “Wendell? He’s the Kincaid estate attorney,” Dakota murmured. “And a trustee along with you.”

  “Yeah.” The chief investigator looked grim. “He’s been pressing a little too hard to sell.”

  “I’ll check it out,” Dakota promised. She gave her husband a wry glance. “If my senior detective partner would like me to, that is.”

  “Okay, rookie,” he drawled, “let’s see if you’ve learned anything about law enforcement. What’s the first thing you’re going to do?”

  “Put a secret tap on his line,” she said in a dead-level voice.

  Clint threw up his hands. “I taught her everything I know, and she still doesn’t know anything.”

  That drew a laugh from the others.

  “I’m going to Judge Walker and ask her pretty please to let us check on the attorney’s calls,” Dakota corrected.

  “Good,” Sterling said. “Clint, see if you can find any ties to PureGrow by anybody in town. I have some friends in the FBI who might be interested in their activities.”

  Wayne liked the way the deputy handled things. He was a thinking man. He glanced at Carey’s closed expression. One thing about men, they didn’t let emotion get in the way of sense. He was pretty sure she had stored up some quarrelsome words to share with him when they were alone….

  Twelve

  At nine, Carey indicated she needed to leave. Jenny had already fallen asleep, her hand on the box that contained the puppy. Sophie had watched a video while the adults talked, then she, too, went to sleep.

  “I’ll have to let you out,” Wayne said. “I’m parked behind your ute.”

  “Thank you.”

  When she had the cranky Sophie ready, he lifted the child from her arms. “I’ll carry her.”

  “Thanks.” She pulled on her parka and followed Wayne to her ute after bidding a hasty good-night to the others. When she pulled onto the road, she wasn’t surprised to see him follow at a safe distance behind her.

  At her house, she entered the garage. He parked behind her on the driveway, then carried Sophie into the house for her. While she changed her daughter into pajamas, he waited in the living room. By the time she joined him, he had a fire going.

  She paused at the door, watching him as he stared into the fire, a snifter of brandy in his hand. He sat on the sofa, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He looked very much at home. And very restless in spite of his relaxed position.

  He glanced up after a moment as if he sensed her observing him. “I helped myself. I hope you don’t mind.” He indicated the snifter of brandy.

  “Of course not.” She poured a tiny amount for herself and sat in the recliner-rocker.

  “McCallum surprised me tonight with his ideas for splitting the ranch. Did you know about his plans?”

  “No. Jessica and I hadn’t discussed it, but I know they’ve been worried about the Kincaid place and Jenny’s future. Were you aware Lexine Baxter kidnapped Jenny when it came out that the child belonged to Jeremiah and everyone assumed she would inherit the ranch along with Dugin Kincaid? I think they’re afraid for Jenny.”

  “They think there’s safety in numbers?” he questioned, his gaze on the fire.

  “They also think it’s unfair that all of Jeremiah’s children don’t share equally in their heritage, no matter how you feel about your father personally.”

  “And you? What do you think?”

  “I agree with them.”

  “I thought you might.”

  She met his gaze levelly. “What does that mean?”

  His smile was cynical. “You admitted you once had a crush on me, on who I was once. Are you seeing the Kincaid name in your future?”

  She considered carefully before she spoke. “I thought there might be a future for us. It had nothing to do with your name, whether Cade, Kincaid or Smith or Brown or Jones. I thought you might want to stay.”

  He stood abruptly and paced the narrow space in front of the fireplace before propping his foot on the hearth and staring pensively into the flames again.

  Carey steeled herself for what was to come. She was suddenly glad she hadn’t changed into her nightgown. It seemed important that she be dressed and formal with him while he told her he was leaving.

  “So when are you going?” she finally asked.

  “As soon as we know the truth about the ranch.”

  “I see.”

  He drank the last swallow of brandy and placed the glass on the mantel. He looked at her then. “I tried to be honest about us and the future.”

  “You’re going to walk away from here, from Whitehorn and people who care for you. Why? What life
beckons you to another place? Sterling would like you to manage the ranch as a resort. With Rand Harding staying on as foreman, you could oversee the entire operation—”

  “I don’t want the ties,” he said.

  “Ah, yes.” She clamped her lips shut before she said something she might regret. If love could hold a person, he would stay, because she and Sophie loved him.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said in a low voice.

  She glanced at him, then shrugged. “I learned long ago that people must choose their own course. You have to love enough to give up that elusive thing called freedom for the comfort and yes, the ties, of home.”

  His eyes darkened at her answer. “I…care about you and Sophie.”

  “We love you. There’s the difference.” She met his gaze. “We want you to stay and build a life here with us. We need you.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a doctor, a wonder woman who can do anything you set your mind to. Sophie is a happy soul. It was Freeway she fell in love with. Now she has Highway. She’ll never miss me.”

  “Is that how you ease your conscience when you leave a place? You tell yourself that no one will miss you?” She stood and crossed her arms, hugging the growing misery inside. “I’ll miss you. I want you to want me so much you can’t bear to leave. Sophie wants a brother or sister. I’d like to give her one. I’d like it to be our child, Wayne. Yours and mine. That’s my dream. What is yours?”

  “I gave up on dreams a long time ago.” He growled the words, an angry flush creeping into his cheeks.

  “Too bad. Sometimes they’re all that make life bearable.” She went to the front door and flipped on the outside lights. “Please go now. I don’t see any sense in discussing this further.”

  He grabbed up his jacket and hat. He paused in front of her. “I told you I was leaving.”

  “Yes. You were never less than open and aboveboard in your intentions.” She managed a smile. “It’s just that I always have this need to save people, even from themselves.”