“What are you doing here?” Gillian asked as she clamored out of bed and grabbed a robe.
The shriek down the hallway prevented Stella from answering. The two of them rushed to where Gillian’s other sister Rose was cemented in the threshold of Bryce’s bedroom, an expression of horror on her face. The exact same question that Gillian had just posed to Stella leaped out of her mouth.
“What are you doing in Dad’s room?” she demanded of the naked man who was occupying her father’s bed.
Suddenly grateful that her plan for seducing Bryce last night hadn’t actually materialized, Gillian imagined their reaction to discovering her in bed with Bryce would probably register on the Richter scale.
Roused from a state of deep sleep, the man of the hour sat up, looking completely disoriented. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as if to rid himself of a recurring nightmare. He then folded his hands behind his head, allowing the sheet to drop away from his torso and puddle around his waist.
“To what do I owe the honor of this intrusion?” he asked.
A blush the same shade as her name crept up Rose’s neck and settled upon her plump cheeks. She looked everywhere but at Bryce’s deliciously bare chest. Gillian wasn’t so shy. Even on the brink of a family feud, it was impossible not to appreciate all of that masculine glory rumbling to life.
“What are you doing sleeping in here?” Stella asked.
Gillian thought Bryce made a better big, bad bear than poor Goldilocks as her sister continued pressing for answers.
“What have you done with him?”
More amused than insulted by the question, he had the audacity to chuckle. “Didn’t you check the freezer before rushing up here?”
Gillian threw herself between him and her sisters when she saw the look of horror on their faces.
“He’s moved into the downstairs bedroom off the den,” she explained.
“I can’t believe you had the gall to move poor Daddy out of his bedroom just so you could—”
Gillian hastened to interrupt before matters got any more out of hand.
“He made the decision all on his own long before we ever arrived. He says he can’t handle the stairs anymore.”
Although irritated at having to explain herself, she was at the same time relieved to discover she wasn’t the only one in the family who hadn’t been informed of her father’s change in living quarters. That simple revelation made her somehow feel less negligent as a daughter. For all her sisters’ ranting about how worried they were about his welfare, they were just as clueless as she was about the daily goings-on of their father’s life. Which made her question on what they were basing their assessments of his health.
“Thank God we got here before…”
Gillian wasn’t a child, and Stella’s dangling implication didn’t sit well with her.
“Before what?”
“Before I could coerce you back into my bed,” Bryce filled in, dropping all pretense of nicety. “It’s hard to believe you two showed up today out of any real desire to spend Christmas Day as a family. I have a sneaking suspicion that what you’re really concerned about is your own pocketbook, and that’s something you’ll have to take up with John, not me. So if you ladies would excuse me, I’d like to get dressed before continuing this conversation downstairs.”
When the sisters refused to budge, he threw a bare leg out from under the covers as a prelude of what was to come, causing Rose to squeak and back out of the room as fast as she could. Stella was harder to persuade. Gathering her indignation about her like a robe, she informed Gillian, “If you have any sense of decency at all, you’ll follow us!”
Although she knew Stella was right, Gillian was sorely tempted to see what Bryce was hiding under the covers. With a sigh, she smiled at him before turning and giving him his privacy.
It was hard, if not downright impossible, for Bryce not to savor the irony of the situation. He wouldn’t trade the memory of the horrified expressions on the faces of his ex-sisters-in-law for anything. It was priceless. He harbored no illusion about ever convincing either Rose or Stella that he wasn’t trying to orchestrate some licentious scene involving their little sister all the while trying to get his hooks into their daddy’s money. He had as much hope of doing that as he had convincing Gillian that her sisters simply wanted to have their father committed so they could have free access to his fortune.
Bryce was happy that his obligation lay with John Baron instead of anyone else in the family. Considering how his own father had been so emotionally and physically distant so much of his life, Bryce supposed it was only natural that he would come to think of Gillian’s dad as more than just a mentor and friend. His ex-father-in-law had been the only member of the Baron clan to support him during the terrible days when his marriage and his life were falling apart. If there was a hell on earth, surely it existed for those parents who have lost a child. Bryce would be forever in John Baron’s debt for all he’d done to make the pain of that unspeakable grief a little more bearable.
He couldn’t stand the thought of such a good man being mistreated by his own flesh and blood.
Recalling how Rose and Stella had taken every opportunity to imply his heavy work schedule into some kind of deliberate abandonment of Gillian and Bonnie, Bryce took his own sweet time showering and getting dressed before making his way downstairs. Angry voices—the same ones that had plagued him for years—ascended to greet him like steam rising from the depths of a devil’s lair. Stepping into the kitchen, he interrupted a heated discussion with a simple question.
“How did the two of you get here? I didn’t think the snow coach was running.”
Not moved to civility by his attempt to be friendly, Stella snapped, “Same way you did, of course. Prehistorically.”
Bryce didn’t even try to suppress a grin as he glanced out the window to where two more gleaming snowmobiles were parked in the driveway. Everyone knew how much Stella and Rose despised anything to do with “roughing it.” In fact, they’d both opted to attend private boarding schools as soon as they were through junior high whereas Gillian chose to finish high school in Jackson Hole proper after her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Virginia Baron passed away before her youngest daughter finished her freshman year of high school. While her sisters traveled after returning home for the funeral, Gillian remained home, helping her father through the anguish of losing his wife and assisting him with the daily operations of running the ranch. And had truly loved every minute of it. That Bryce’s two prima donna ex-sisters-in-law would strap themselves on a snowmobile under such arduous conditions was proof enough of just how desperate they must be.
“Part of the trail was cleared late yesterday. It’s barely passable now and the snow coaches won’t be running until after Christmas,” Rose explained. “The ride in was terrible. It’s a wonder we made it at all.”
“Which just goes to show how utterly ridiculous it is for Daddy to remain here, cut off from all civilization,” Stella added with an indignant sniff.
She winced when Bryce joined them at the kitchen table after pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Are you sure you didn’t arrange for Daddy to move into the farthest corner of this house just so you could have some special time to sink your claws back into your Gillian and try to turn her against us—”
“Stop it!”
The same booming voice that had once ruled over a houseful of querulous teenage girls ended the conversation with an unquestioned air of authority. Shaking his head in disgust, John Baron stared at his contentious brood.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy!”
Stella and Rose jumped out of their chairs and rushed to envelop him in a hug. He reveled in their enthusiastic embrace before asking, “What are you two doing here? You can’t be bothered to visit when the weather’s good?”
If Bryce had any doubts about the old man’s competence, they quickly evaporated as John proceeded to prove that he was perfectly capable of taking c
are of himself. Leaning back in his chair, he watched to see how Stella and Rose were going to attempt to convince the crafty, old codger that he wasn’t in complete control of his faculties.
Rose responded with a hurt expression.
“We thought it would be a nice surprise to drop in on you for the holidays,” Stella explained.
Harrumphing, John gave her a steely look.
“If I had wanted you two to join us here, I would have asked you. Frankly what I want to discuss with your sister and Bryce is none of your business.”
“You can’t possibly mean that!”
Her father’s expression softened at the sight of Rose’s tears.
“That’s not to say that I’m not happy to have you girls all together for the holidays. I can’t remember the last time we celebrated Christmas Day as a family. Actually, this probably will work out for the best after all. It’s just that I wanted to run my ideas past Bryce and Gillian before involving the rest of you in my decision. And mind you, it is my decision.”
The room grew jarringly quiet as he cleared his throat and turned to address his oldest daughters.
“Since you two are convinced that I’m incapable of remaining here on my own, and neither one of you have ever bothered to hide the fact that you want nothing to do with running this ranch, it is my intention to give it to Gillian and Bryce jointly.”
Eleven
“And a Merry Christmas to you, too, Daddy!” Stella exclaimed angrily in reaction to that little bombshell.
Rose dragged the back of one arm across her puffy face and whimpered, “You can’t possibly mean that.”
Before Gillian could turn away in embarrassment, Stella pointed a bony finger in her face.
“You always were Daddy’s little darling. I’ll bet you’ve been planning this for years. Probably ever since you tied up with…with…that gold digger!”
She said it as if this were the worst name she could think of. Watching Stella lash out indiscriminately reminded Gillian of the time she’d accidentally disturbed a nest of rattlesnakes. She’d been shocked and scared at the time and was very careful when she retreated in case one of the snakes lashed out and bit her.
Unable to believe what she was hearing, she had to ask, “Do I need to remind you that Bryce and I are divorced? And you’re the one who insisted I convince him to come here with me in the first place? Have you forgotten how strongly I objected to that suggestion?”
“That’s right,” Rose chimed in. “I warned you that it was a mistake to involve him, Stell.”
“Like I had any choice in the matter,” she retorted. “The codicil that Dad attached to the will makes it virtually impossible to do anything without Bryce’s consent.”
Reminded of their father’s shocking decision in the matter, Rose decided to direct her fury at the only person in the room who appeared to be enjoying her histrionics.
“You’re no longer a part of this family,” she yelled at Bryce. “Truth be told, you never were.”
Though a flicker of pain darkened Bryce’s blue eyes, it was her father’s reaction that most worried Gillian. His face was growing redder by the second, and a purple vein in his forehead throbbed threateningly. If her sisters truly were as concerned about his health as they claimed, they would deal with this situation calmly and not be pushing him to have a heart attack.
“I’ve had just about enough of this nonsense!” he roared. “Do I have to remind all of you that you’re still in my house? I’m not dead yet! And I’m not about to let anybody put me in my grave until I’m good and ready to go there!”
Far from extinguishing the growing blaze of discord, his words seemed to merely throw gas on it.
“You’re not being fair!” Stella yelled.
“If you think we won’t fight you on this, you’d better think again,” Rose added.
Gillian was glad when Bryce posed a question that put the “conversation” back on a more rational track.
“What stipulations are attached to the offer, John?”
The family stopped fighting long enough to hear the answer. Ignoring his daughters’ angry expressions, John Baron took a deep breath before looking Bryce squarely in the eye.
“You and Gillian are to run the place together and let me live the rest of my days right here—on this ranch, in this house—for however long that might be.”
A stunned silence fell over the room. Gillian cleared her throat uncomfortably.
“You do realize that Bryce and I are divorced and that we don’t have any plans of getting back together, don’t you?”
Obviously insulted by the implication that he was losing control of his faculties, her father said, “Whoever said anything about you two getting back together? All I said was that I’d like you to run the place. Living arrangements would be up to you—that’s nobody else’s business. Not mine. And damned sure not your sisters’.”
Stella’s eyes narrowed with contempt. “Is this about the need to bail out poor Bryce again? Has his business gone under? I warned you not to lend him any money the first time, Daddy, but since you wouldn’t listen to me then, I don’t expect you will now. I wish you’d just consider the past a valuable learning opportunity and accept that Bryce is never going to make anything of himself—with or without the backing of the Baron money.”
Gillian hated that Stella couldn’t let Bryce forget that he hadn’t been born into the same kind of privileged circumstances they had. Both of her sisters acted as if working for a living was somehow beneath them and had always assumed that Bryce had only married her for their dad’s money, which was insulting to both of them.
And as far from the truth as it could be. If anything, Bryce’s insistence on building the business on his own had been a sticking point in their marriage. Over his protests, Gillian took the initiative herself and approached her father for the seed money to launch her husband’s fledgling company. Bryce had been downright angry when she’d presented him with a signed blank check to finance his entrepreneurial dreams. It had taken all of her womanly finesse to coax him into accepting it as a loan.
John Baron raised a trembling hand and called for quiet. “I’ll have you all know that Bryce paid back every penny of that a long time ago. That’s a hell of a lot more than I can say about any money I’ve given anybody else in this room!”
The protests to that observation practically rattled the exposed beams overhead.
“How can you possibly turn your back on us in favor of him?” Stella demanded.
Having spent the better part of her marriage defending her sisters to Bryce—they were her sisters after all—Gillian was now embarrassed for them. The fact that they had stepped in to act as a mother for her early after Virginia had been diagnosed with cancer did not absolve them of such behavior. Their vitriolic reaction had her reexamining Bryce’s claim that they’d deliberately worked to undermine their marriage. Although she knew that her and Bryce’s problems as a couple were of their own making, looking back, she couldn’t help but wonder if Rose and Stella may not have intentionally exacerbated them.
Perhaps that was part of the reason she hadn’t kept in closer contact with them since the divorce. The thought of three single sisters, who were all mad at the world, hanging out together wasn’t exactly Gillian’s idea of a fresh start.
As Rose’s and Stella’s wailing increased in volume, their father took on a more conciliatory tone.
“That’s not to say that I’d ever leave any of my girls out in the cold,” he assured them. “Considering the financial strain it’ll put on the ranch’s operating expenses, a million dollars split evenly between Rose and Stella should take care of any objections that either of you might have to my proposal. Did I mention that Gill and Bryce can’t sell the place until after I’m dead and gone—which I’m hoping won’t be anytime soon? They can divide the ranch however they see fit when that happens, though.”
The substantial sum named was enough to put a stop to his daughters’ tears momen
tarily. Rose repeated the sum incredulously.
“A million dollars?”
Stella recovered more quickly. “Moon Cussers is worth ten times more than that!” she protested.
“Only on paper, honey,” her father said, wisely shaking his head.
Having spent the last twenty-four hours poring over the ranch’s books, Gillian considered that a fair assessment. Her background as a Realtor gave her a good grasp of the staggering figure mentioned.
“Making a ranch this size profitable isn’t easy given changing times,” she interjected. “It’s only worth that extravagant amount you’ve got in your head if it’s sold to a big-time developer. And we all know how Dad feels about that.”
“Maybe we could find an environmentally-minded developer?” Rose timidly suggested.
Bryce laughed, but John’s eyes took on a steely glint.
“That’s my offer,” he said in a tone that brooked no compromise. “Take it or leave it.”
Gillian felt as if she were being pulled in two by opposing forces. She felt honor-bound to think of her father’s best interests above everything else. Having never considered returning to the ranch on a permanent basis, she was surprised how strongly the idea pulled at her. Deep down a part of her did long to return to her home. She also wanted to ensure her father was well taken care of and knew that being here would make that task much easier.
Outside the wind was shaking snow off tree limbs, scattering it like diamonds. Inside, hope landed lightly on Gillian’s shoulder. The thought of trying to patch things up with Bryce was tempting. Just being with him these past few days made it hard not to remember why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place.
Was it possible they could start all over again? Maybe even try to start another family?
Bryce had made a point of telling her that she’d been a wonderful mother and reminding her that there was no reason she shouldn’t try to have another baby. They—What was she thinking? He’d proposed to another woman and was getting married.
The Millionaire's Miracle Page 8
