The Cowboy's Craving (Book 4, the Mackenzies—Morgan)

by Diana Fraser

  “Just in time for what?” Morgan asked distractedly.

  “You were in Christchurch this time last year, weren’t you? In time for the skating party at the weekend. All our friends and neighbors come.” Callum looked at the tree-house, closed the window, and shook his head. “I must get that tree-house fenced off. Lily’s my niece, I love her, but you better make sure she doesn’t lead Joe into mischief. Like up that tree-house while it’s so icy.”

  “Joe might not talk much but he’s pretty obstinate. He’ll only be led where he wants to go. Besides she hasn’t persuaded him yet to go up the ladder to the tree-house. I can’t see she’ll get him up there in the ice.”

  Callum glanced up the massive oak to the high-up platform, complete with roof and window. “James made it, you know.”

  “James?”

  “I know, it’s hard to believe but he did.”

  “Hm! Didn’t have him down for a carpenter.”

  “Used to love all that hands-on stuff. But then he grew up and discovered girls.”

  Morgan really didn’t want to think about James and his girlfriends. He took a swig of beer and looked up at the sky, now leaden and dark. “Reckon it’s going to snow later. Just as well we got those stragglers down from the high country today.”

  “Yeah, hell of a job. Thanks for that. You and the guys did well. I’d have been with you if it weren’t for all this family business going on.”

  “You’ve the meeting with the lawyer tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Then it’ll be over, thank God.”

  Morgan took another swig from his beer, thinking about the papers he’d had prepared for Callum a couple of days ago. They were upstairs in the room he was sharing with Joe, waiting until he’d found the right moment. Looks like that moment had come.

  “You got a minute later? I’d like to show you something.”

  “Sure. What’s it about—”

  But before Morgan could reply Dallas and James walked into the room.

  “Hey, you’ve started without us!” James exclaimed.

  “Beer, not wine,” Callum replied.

  James shook his head and opened the door to the wine cellar. “You can keep your beer. I’ll get us a good pinot noir.” And he disappeared down the stone steps.

  “How’s it going, Morgan?” asked Dallas as he fixed himself a soda water. Like his father before him, Dallas was an alcoholic but hadn’t had a drink in nearly a decade. Unlike his father, he kept his ruthless streak only for the money markets.

  Morgan turned to watch Joe come out of the cow shed hand in hand with Lily. “Joe’s taking longer to settle in than I’d thought, although Lily’s helping.”

  Dallas laughed. “Lily adores Joe. He’s all she talks about.”

  It was Callum’s turn to laugh. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lily when she grows up.”

  Dallas rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. “Don’t I know it. If I have my way I’ll lock her in a nunnery for her teenage years. But Cassandra reckons she’ll be fine. Wellington’s a small city without the problems of bigger cities.”

  “Yes, the smaller the place, the easier it’ll be to watch over them. Why do you think I’m staying at Glencoe?”

  “Because, as from tomorrow you’ll be the sole proprietor?”

  “That, and because I can keep a very close eye on my kids growing up.” Callum turned to Morgan. “I’m trying to persuade Morgan that he and Joe should stay.”

  Dallas looked at Morgan shrewdly. “It’s a good place to grow up in.”

  “It might be if you’ve family around.”

  “Don’t let Gemma hear you saying we’re not your family.”

  Callum couldn’t have said anything more guaranteed to shut Morgan up. But Callum didn’t notice anything amiss as James re-entered the room. And when James entered a room, all eyes went to him. Morgan sat back and wondered again how someone could be so handsome and so charming, with so little effort.

  “Mmm,” James poured himself a glass of wine and sniffed it appreciatively. “Sorry I couldn’t help with the mustering. Business and all that.”

  Callum rolled his eyes at Morgan. “Sure, little bro. Either business or a woman.”

  A few months ago and Morgan would have felt edgy in James’s company but now he remembered Rebecca’s reassurance. She hadn’t been impressed with James and he no longer felt the invasive flicker of jealousy in James’s company.

  “Just business. While I’m here anyway. All the good ones have gone,” he shot a wry look at Morgan.

  “They’ve got sense,” said Morgan grinning. He’d gotten used to the brothers now and enjoyed ribbing them, just as Callum did. Except this time James didn’t look so happy. He gave a half grin, finished his wine and stood up and replenished his glass.

  “Anyhow, I’m off to the States next week. To Napa Valley. I’ve something big coming up I need to prepare for.”

  “Sounds mysterious,” Dallas narrowed his eyes on his handsome younger brother. Is something going on I don’t know about?”

  “There’s always something going on with James which neither of us know about. And thank God we don’t,” said Callum.

  “You’ve got your world, Callum, and I’ve got mine,” James replied. “And, after tonight, once we’ve finally settled the division of assets between us, we’ll all own our own business interests.”

  “Not that it’ll make any practical difference,” added Dallas.

  “No,” James replied. “But it’s good to get it settled. I’m happy with the wineries, Dallas has his business interests and Callum has the land.”

  Callum grinned at Morgan. “Just as well my brothers don’t have any interest in the land, otherwise I’d have a fight on my hands. Because there’s no way I’m sharing Glencoe with anyone.”

  “And after that last fight we had as teenagers,” Dallas raised his finger, from which a piece was missing, “I’m glad I don’t have to fight you for the land.”

  “I’m kidding,” said Callum. “Blood’s thicker than water. I love the land, but family comes first. They always have and always will.”

  Suddenly Morgan had had enough and he scraped his chair back on the tiled floor with more force than he intended, and all three brothers suddenly looked up at him. He rose as casually as he could and rinsed out the beer bottle and placed it in the recycling bin.

  “You might be like Callum in your love for the land, but you’re better house-trained than he is,” remarked James.

  “It’s not my house,” said Morgan more evenly than he felt. “I’ll go and get Joe, spend an hour with him and then catch up with you later, Callum. Around six?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you in Mother’s drawing room. It’ll be quieter there.”

  “Bye, Dad!” And with that Joe had bolted out the door, down to where Gemma, Cassandra, Lily and Cassandra’s two-year-old, Daniella, were waiting for him to watch the latest Disney film Gemma had organized. It was as if Joe couldn’t wait to leave. And who could blame him? Morgan would have been the same, faced with a load of old photographs of people he didn’t know.

  God knows what had made Morgan take out the photographs to show Joe. Desperation? A need for Joe to connect with his family? Whatever. They’d held no interest to a five-year-old.

  Morgan picked up a photo of his mother, her head close to a handsome man, and held it up to the light of the small lamp beside Joe’s bed. She’d been pretty, his mum. He sighed and placed the rest of the photos back into the shoe box, except for one which he continued to study, trying to find signs of likeness between him and his birth father. He didn’t need to look far. It was pretty obvious.

  Then he slipped it in his wallet and looked out the window. The snow on the mountains glowed with a ghostly light in the dusk of late winter and a sliver of moon sat alongside Venus. His mind immediately drifted back to Rebecca.

  He glanced back at the papers in front of him and smoothed them down carefully. Had he made the right decision?
/>   He turned each page over carefully after having read it for the tenth time, and then slowly read through the next page. Only when he’d reached the end did he sit back, tap the papers into an orderly pile, and look out of the small window that looked west, out to where the sun had already disappeared beyond the mountains, out to where the land was that he’d taken Rebecca to all those months ago.

  He still didn’t believe he was good enough for Rebecca but it didn’t stop him thinking about her all the time, it didn’t stop him craving her as soon as he’d left her. And the craving only intensified. He had to move things forward, get them all together under one roof and this was the best way he could think of.

  His follow-up visit to the lawyer’s a few days ago had shown him that his dream was attainable. Given Callum’s willingness, that is.

  The small chiming clock on the mantelpiece under which a small fire flickered in the hearth, struck six.

  Morgan rose, sighed and picked up the papers. It was now or never. He walked down the hallway toward the drawing room where he’d been with Rebecca a few weeks before. That had been the first time he’d been in the room and he’d hardly noticed anything beyond the large family portraits. Not with Rebecca there to look at.

  But she wasn’t here now and when he entered the room and turned on the light the first thing he noticed was the absence of Callum. He’d been told he was here. The next thing he noticed was a small group of photographs mounted on the wall.

  It was the informal atmosphere of the people in the photographs that drew him. People with their arms around each other, laughing, outdoors, having fun. Even though the photographs must have been taken from around the 1980s, they had a glamor that made him think of an earlier time in the 20th century. He supposed that not a lot had changed over the decades in the Mackenzie country, particularly at the old runs or stations.

  He recognized Lady Mackenzie instantly. Even though she couldn’t have been more than thirty, she had the same reserved demeanor, albeit tempered by a becoming shyness which she must have lost somewhere along the way. He could see the attraction she must have had for Sir Hugh Mackenzie. She was dressed beautifully and was surrounded by a group of equally beautifully dressed young women. The men were grouped together, enjoying being watched by the women while the servants waited on them. In the foreground a little boy toddled determinedly along. It was unmistakably Dallas. Probably before Callum had been born. That figured.

  He knew which one was Sir Hugh, knew his face, the strong handsome lines, the tall, broad figure, he’d seen photos before. Long before. So it wasn’t his looks which made Morgan’s heart stop, it was the person Sir Hugh was looking at with a heated expression that sparked a flash of anger. While ostensibly, Sir Hugh was looking at Lady Mackenzie, just behind her was another woman, a maid, who was blushing prettily and looking up at Sir Hugh from under flirtatious lowered lids.

  Morgan stepped closer and swept away a trace of dust that lay on the glass over her face. Not just pretty, but beautiful. With her big blue eyes, her curvaceous figure and her curly blond hair peeping out from under a maid’s hat, she’d turn any man’s eye and, by the way Sir Hugh Mackenzie was looking at her, she’d turned his. It was a wonder that Lady Mackenzie allowed the photograph to be displayed. Maybe she simply didn’t notice anyone beneath her.

  Morgan pulled out the photograph from his wallet and studied it closely. Here the two of them were in a private moment. It must have been taken at some photo booth in a small town nearby where the photographer wouldn’t know them. Some weekend tryst no doubt, where Sir Hugh wouldn’t be recognized.

  Suddenly the door opened and Callum strolled in.

  “Hey, Morgan.”

  He came up beside him, just as Morgan stuffed the old photo into the back of his jeans where his other papers were. “I was looking at these old family photos.”

  Callum looked up at them. “Pop used to enjoy all that stuff. That’s Dallas there.” He pointed to the front of the picture. “And that’s Mother, doing what she does best, organizing everyone and hosting events.” He turned back to Callum. “So what did you want to give to me?”

  “These.” Morgan pulled out the papers, and the photo fluttered onto the thick carpet.

  Callum and Morgan locked eyes. Morgan couldn’t move. “Who’s this?” Callum frowned, picking up the photo, holding between his fingers. “It’s Pop. Who’s he with? I don’t recognize her? A girlfriend before he married?” He tilted it to the light. “No, he’s wearing his wedding ring.” He looked back at Morgan. “Who the hell is this?”

  Morgan closed his eyes briefly. He’d never wanted this. How could he have been so stupid?

  “Morgan?” Callum shook his head in confusion. “What are you doing with this photograph of my father and some woman?”

  “She’s not some woman.” He plucked the photograph from Callum’s hands before Callum could stop him, and looked at it, looked at that beautiful face, so full of hope. “That woman is my mother.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what the hell is she doing with my father in this photograph?”

  “What do you think?” Despite Morgan’s intention never to bring up the subject with Callum, he felt indignant at Callum’s attitude.

  “Your mother? My father?”

  “Yes.”

  “They had an affair?”

  “Yes. Mum grew up in Lake Tekapo. I think the affair must have started before she got work at Glencoe. Made it easier, I guess, if she was a maid here.”

  “Christ!” Callum raked his fingers through his hair and walked over to the other side of the room. “I knew my father had had affairs, but right under Mother’s nose?” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “What a bastard.”

  “He was that all right.”

  Callum paced back to look at the photograph on the wall. “And she’s here?”

  Morgan pointed her out. “She loved working at Glencoe. It was all I heard about when I grew up. How they did things properly at the big house, what beautiful clothes Lady Mackenzie had, what wonderful food they had to eat. And always, what a true gentleman Sir Hugh Mackenzie was.”

  Callum snorted. “She couldn’t have known him that well.”

  “She saw what she wanted to see.”

  Callum peered closer at the photograph. “I don’t remember her growing up. So I hadn’t been born then, but Dallas had.”

  “No. Lady Mackenzie gave her her marching orders shortly after that photograph was taken. Must have been about six months later, I reckon.”

  “Why?”

  Callum had turned away from the photograph and was facing Morgan now. Morgan hesitated. But it was too late. He had to tell Callum the truth and let him make of it what he would. And, knowing Callum, as he’d come to know him, he didn’t think he’d like what Morgan was about to tell him.

  “It seems Lady Mackenzie didn’t take kindly to a pregnant maid, particularly when she probably didn’t trust her husband as far as she could throw him.”

  “Your mother was pregnant…” Callum trailed off. He simply stared at Morgan. Callum’s face hardened as he understood the full import of Morgan’s words. “You? You are my half-brother? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  “I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m telling you straight. Sir Hugh Mackenzie was my father. I’m your half-brother, like it or not.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Callum took a step closer and Morgan could see the depth of anger in his eyes. “And I don’t like it, Morgan, not one bit.”

  “You’re not the only one. I’m not best pleased either that your scumbag of a father was also mine.”

  Callum snorted as if he didn’t believe Morgan. “So, do you have proof of this?”

  “Proof?” Morgan faced Callum eye to eye. They were the same height except Morgan was a shade broader and stronger from a life of outside work. “Yeah, I’ve got proof. He wrote her a couple of letters which I’m sure he regretted. P
aid her off too. We’ve got proof of that as well.”

  “Is his name on your birth certificate?”

  “Yes. Anything else you need to know?”

  “Yes.” Callum remained close to Morgan. His icy anger would have been intimidating to anyone other than Morgan. “I want to know what it is you want.”

  Morgan shook his head. “Want? I’ve never wanted anything from you, or any of the Mackenzies.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Seems like you’ve made up your mind that I want something. Tell me, what do you think it is I’ve come here for?”

  “Stop playing games, Morgan. It’s obvious, isn’t it? There can be no other reason you chose to come back over a year ago when the news broke about the settlement of the Mackenzie estate. I guess its delay was the only reason you stayed on. You want a share, don’t you?”

  Morgan snorted. “Well, if that’s what you think, I guess you’re right.” He suddenly remembered the papers in his pocket and saw how it would now look to Callum. Despite the fact that Morgan realized Callum’s suspicions were entirely reasonable given the circumstances, Morgan was infuriated. Let Callum—let them all—think what the hell they liked. What did it matter what any of them thought about him?

  “So when were you going to share this information? Had something a bit more dramatic planned?”

  “Do you think I was going to rush into the lawyers, just as you were signing the final documents, and wave my birth certificate around?”

  “You tell me.”

  Callum’s face was hard and angry. Morgan could see there would be no getting through to him. And at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. The papers in his pocket were nothing to what he could claim. He paused and for one long moment considered being the man Callum imagined him to be and claiming everything he could. But that man wasn’t him. There was no way he’d mess up this man’s life, this man he’d called a friend up to a short time ago. He might never be a friend again but Morgan could never take from Callum what he valued most.

  “You tell me,” Callum repeated through gritted teeth.