“No, and I think he could’ve found other women much more convenient than Melissa.” Camille seemed to be in deep thought, so John waited.
“I’ll see what I can figure out tomorrow, Son.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Camille went to her room to get ready for bed. Her husband followed her.
“What are we going to do about Melissa?” Griff asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you promise to give her all our money if she’ll come home?”
“What? That’s crazy!”
She gave him a knowing look. “I thought so.”
“Aw, Camille, the house won’t be that much, and John has the ranch. It seemed more than fair to me.”
“It is, dear. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get carried away,” she said with a smile. “Actually, I think she’s going to make some changes.”
Griff’s face lit up. “You think so?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if she’ll take you up on your offer. She may move to New York City. She hasn’t quite decided yet.”
“I could offer Harry—”
“No! Enough trying to manipulate your children or anyone else. You have to have faith that they’ll do the right thing. That’s why you turned the ranch over to John, isn’t it? Because you had faith he would do the right thing? I think you owe that to Melissa more than any amount of money.”
Griff hung his head. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t done as good a job with Melissa, but I don’t understand her work, and she’s been too far away to convince me of anything.”
“I know. And she may go away again. We just have to wait until she makes up her mind.”
HARRY PUT ON A DARK green dress shirt and black slacks for Sunday dinner. He was nervous about going to visit Melissa’s family for a lot of reasons. The most important one was that Melissa didn’t want him there.
He guessed she’d made her decision. Otherwise, why would she have invited Pierre to come to dinner, too? In fact, Harry should offer to drive the Frenchman out there and then come back home to his apartment. That would make her happy.
Squaring his shoulders, he changed his mind. He’d been invited first. He was going to stay for dinner. If she didn’t want him there, she’d have to tell him. Face-to-face.
But he hoped she didn’t tell him that. He wanted to spend time with her, even surrounded by her family and Pierre. Damn, Harry was one sick puppy to accept that kind of torture.
With a sigh, he went downstairs to wait for the Frenchman.
Harry was still hoping that he and Melissa could—Could what? That he could convince her not to go back to France and her boyfriend? That wasn’t likely.
Unfortunately, Pierre showed up outside the Sheriff’s Office at exactly twelve-fifteen.
By the time they reached their ranch, Harry was fed up with the man and his attitude. When he got out of his truck, he saw John coming out to meet him. Uh-oh. Had they changed their mind and no longer wanted him at dinner?
John reached out to shake his hand. “Glad you made it.”
“So it’s still all right?”
“Absolutely! Mom even made a special dessert for you. And Pierre,” he added.
“She didn’t need to do that.”
“Hello, Pierre,” John said, offering his hand.
Pierre shook it briefly. “May we enter?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
John and Harry followed him to the house.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Harry muttered. “Melissa doesn’t want me here.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why did she cry when I tried to talk to her about you two?”
“She did?”
John nodded and held the door open.
Inside, they found Griff already sitting at the head of the table, glowering at Pierre, while the two ladies brought in platters of delicious-smelling food.
Griff stood up and shook Harry’s hand, then invited him to sit opposite Pierre, on his left.
After hanging up his hat, Harry greeted both Melissa and Camille before he sat down. “Something sure smells good.”
“Of course it does. My mother is one of the best cooks in the county,” Melissa said crisply.
Pierre smiled at Melissa. “And we will have wine?
Camille looked upset. “Oh, dear, I didn’t think to get you any wine, Pierre. I’m so sorry.”
Harry remembered the bottle Melissa had been drinking the night he’d stayed over after rounding up the herd, but she’d poured that out the next morning.
“Pierre will drink coffee, Mom,” Melissa said quickly.
“But, ma chère, I would rather—”
“No, Pierre!” After serving him coffee, she took the seat beside Harry, leaving her brother to sit beside Pierre.
Conversation was a bit forced at times during dinner, as Melissa refused to talk with Pierre about her plans for her return to France.
Everyone else chatted determinedly and kept eating, as if hoping the meal would end quickly.
When Camille brought out the dessert, Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. “Is that Red’s famous chocolate cake?”
“Yes, it is. He gave us his secret recipe this year,” she announced with a smile.
“This is a secret?” Pierre asked looking with disdain at the cake. “In France, we are famous for our pastries.”
“Red’s chocolate cake is better,” Melissa snapped.
“Mais non, chérie. That cannot be true.”
Camille served everyone a piece of cake. When she got to Pierre, he shook his head. “Don’t you want some of my dessert?” she asked.
“Non, I prefer cheese and fruit.”
“Mom doesn’t have cheese and fruit, and it’s wrong of you to ask for something she hasn’t offered!” Melissa glared at her former fiancé.
“I am glad I’m returning to France. This is a barbaric country! There is no wine, no bottled water, and now no cheese and fruit for dessert! I do not like it here.”
“I’m glad you’re leaving, too, because you are rude and childish. I don’t know how I ever thought you would be good husband material!”
“We will discuss our plans when you return to France, ma chère! Not here in front of these…people!” Pierre said.
“These people are my family and a friend, Pierre. And we won’t discuss anything when I return to France, because I’ll be packing to come home for good!”
As if she’d set off a bomb, both Pierre and her father jumped to their feet, one protesting and one celebrating.
Harry sat there stunned. She was staying? What had made her change her mind? Of course, that didn’t mean she’d return to Rawhide, but who knew? Maybe she’d come home more often, at least. Would that be enough for him?
No, it wouldn’t.
He stood up, seeing the discomfort on his hostess’s face. “Camille, why don’t you save my piece of cake for another time, and I’ll take Pierre back into town? We don’t want him to miss his flight.”
“Oh, bless you Harry, that would be wonderful.”
“Come on, Pierre,” Harry announced, speaking loudly to be heard over the other men’s voices. “Time for you to go.” He grabbed his arm and began dragging him toward the door.
“Non! I must speak to Melissa!”
“I think you’ve already said too much.” Harry kept moving to the door. Griff got up to assist him, hustling Pierre from behind.
Harry was half afraid Pierre might turn around and fight Melissa’s dad when they got outside. He probably figured Griff’s age would slow him down. Harry tried to hide the smile that thought induced.
Once he got Pierre in his truck, he hurried around to the driver’s side and sped toward Rawhide. Though it wasn’t a long trip, it took longer than he liked, with Pierre yelling at him nonstop in both English and French. Harry parked in front the Sheriff’s Office, and Pierre jerked open his door.
“I will not forget this, jamais!”
“Okay. Have a good flight.” Harry even mana
ged to offer a friendly smile.
Pierre growled before he stalked across the street to Dale’s apartment. Harry was pretty sure Dale was working, so he wouldn’t have to warn him about his angry guest.
With a rueful chuckle, Harry wandered up stairs to his own place. He didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day, but at least he didn’t have to think of Melissa going back to France with Pierre.
That didn’t stop Harry from missing her.
THE STUNNED SILENCE was broken when Griff came back into the dining room. Taking a deep breath, Melissa slumped down in her chair.
“Child, you’re not going back to France?” he asked.
“No, Dad, I’m not. And definitely not taking up with Pierre again!”
“You might have told Dad that,” John interjected. “I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack when Pierre walked in today.”
Griff didn’t respond. He headed straight to his daughter, bent down and wrapped his arms around her.
“I’m so glad you got rid of that man,” he said. “And I’m glad you’re not going back to Europe.”
After hugging her father, Melissa said, “Will you be glad to hear I’m staying here in Rawhide? Remember, it will cost you the price of Caroline’s house.” She gave him a wide smile.
“Baby girl, I don’t care about the money. Your mother and I will be so happy to have you living nearby!” He sat down at the table. “I believe I’d like another piece of Red’s cake to celebrate.”
Ignoring him, Camille asked her daughter, “But, dear, can you make your jewelry here? I would hate for you to give up your career.”
“Yes, Mom. Caro had a great idea—for me to build a workshop on land near the house and add two apartments upstairs for the people who work for me.”
“That’s super, Melissa!” John beamed at her. “That way you can be a jeweler and a cowgirl.”
Melissa smiled at her brother. “I don’t think I’ll be much of a cowgirl, but I’ll be able to come out and ride every once in a while.”
“Anytime you want, little sister,” he said with a grin. Then he asked the one question she didn’t have an answer for. “What’s going on between you and Harry?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you should marry him!” Griff said, a smile on his face.
“Even if he doesn’t love me, Dad?”
“What’s wrong with you, girl? He’s been kissing you all over town!”
“That might’ve been partly my fault.” She didn’t want to look up and face her father, but she finally did. And he was staring at her as if she was crazy.
“Griff,” her mother said, “I think she’s worried that Harry is interested in her because she’s a Randall.”
“So he should be! Anyone’s lucky to land a Randall. But Harry is as honest as they come. He wouldn’t lie about loving you, honey.” Griff said.
Everyone sat silent for a long moment.
Finally, Griff got up and cut his own piece of cake. Then he sat down and ate a forkful. “So what are you going to do about Harry, Melissa? Have you told him you’re staying in town?”
“No.”
“Are you going to stay even if he isn’t interested?” Camille asked, her hands pressed together.
“Yes, Mom, I’m staying. I’ll have to travel, especially to get started, but I’ll be living here. I’m home.”
“I’m so glad Melissa. I think when you tell Harry that, everything will work out.”
“Yes, but it’s a little awkward to say, ‘Hi, Harry, I’m staying. Did you mean it when you kissed me?’ Because he hasn’t said he loves me. And I won’t settle for less.”
John joined his father in a second dessert. Through a full mouth he said, “Josh told me Harry was attracted to you before he knew you were a Randall.”
Melissa gave her brother a skeptical look. “How would Josh know that?”
“Remember when Harry was looking for a dance partner for you, at the steak house that night? He told Josh there was this knockout who needed a partner.”
“I know exactly how you can approach him without any awkwardness,” Camille said.
Melissa turned to stare at her mother. “How?”
She pointed to the chocolate cake in the middle of the table. “Harry asked me to save him a piece of cake so he could get Pierre out of here. It would be thoughtful of you to take it to him. I’ll cover it in plastic wrap.” She stood up from the table to do just that.
“Maybe I should wait until tomorrow,” Melissa said apprehensively.
“No,” Griff declared. “We’re all sitting here worrying about it. I think you should go now.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “I should settle my love life so you won’t worry? That’s a little strange, Dad.”
“No,” he said, using his fork to make the point, “it’s so you won’t lose your nerve.”
Once again her father was right.
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa slowly climbed the stairs, carrying the large piece of cake her mother had cut for Harry. She thought about checking downstairs for him, but decided not to. She’d rather face him alone, so she was going to take the chance that he was at home.
She knocked on his apartment door and stood there waiting, relieved when she heard footsteps.
Harry swung open the door, surprise on his face when he saw her. “Melissa! Is everything all right?”
“Yes, thanks to your ushering Pierre out of the house so quickly. I came to say thank you and to offer you the chocolate cake you sacrificed.”
“That piece looks big enough to share. How ’bout it?”
Melissa looked at the cake. She hadn’t realized her mother had cut a piece big enough for two. Obviously, her mom was way ahead of her in planning romantic encounters. “I’d love some,” she told Harry.
“Come on in.”
Melissa didn’t hesitate, until she saw Harry peer down the stairs. “What are you looking for?”
“Your dad. Shouldn’t he be showing up about now?”
She chuckled, which helped her relax. “Don’t worry. Mom’s got him under control.”
“That’s good news. I was glad to hear you say you weren’t going back to France, by the way,” he stated as he shut the door. “Where will you be setting up your jewelry company?”
Melissa waited to answer until she was settled on the sofa. “I’m thinking about somewhere locally.”
“Really? Would there be much of a market around here?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean I’d sell only locally. I’d make the jewelry here, but sell it other places. I’m thinking Neiman Marcus might be a good company to offer it. They have a number of stores now, even in Denver.”
Harry stared at her, surprise on his face. “You’re—you’re really going to make your jewelry here?”
“Why not?”
“Did your father talk you into this?” he asked, suddenly scowling at her.
“No. It was my decision.”
“But why?”
“I just hadn’t thought of moving home. But when I saw Caroline’s house, I knew I wanted it. She suggested I could build a workshop on the land across the street and add a couple of apartments on top. Then I could bring some workers here and have a place for them to live.”
“Does she own that land?”
“No, but she thinks I can buy it. I’ll have to find out that information on Monday.”
Harry didn’t say anything.
Melissa took a deep breath. “Are you unhappy that I’m staying in town?”
That question seemed to stun him. After a moment, he said, “Absolutely not. I just want it to be your decision.”
“It is.” To break the awkward silence that ensued, she asked, “Are you going to share the cake?”
Since he was still clutching the plate, she hoped that would break the tension.
“Oh! Yeah, sure. I’ll—I’ll cut it in half.” He walked over to the kitchen part of the big room. “So you won’t be
going back to France?”
“I’ll have to go pack up my things and talk to Monsieur Jalbert. He won’t be happy, but my contract expires at the end of the year, so he has no hold on me.”
“And you won’t miss…uh, your friends and—and the museums?”
“I’m not saying I won’t ever return to France, Harry. I might need to revisit the museums for inspiration. But not that often. And I can invite my friends to come see me.” When he turned to stare at her, she immediately said, “Not Pierre.”
He went back to cutting the cake. Then he brought over the two plates and forks.
“Can you believe Red has given up his secret cake recipe?” Melissa murmured.
“No, I was surprised. Why did he do that?”
“I asked Mom that question. I was afraid he had some terrible disease and didn’t have long to live. But she said he just realized he was getting on up there and didn’t want the recipe to die with him. Mildred gave us her cinnamon bun recipe, too.”
“Did they give them just to you and Camille?”
“Oh, no, they gave them to all the second generation moms, and said they could share them with their daughters when they married. But I’m the last one not married, so Mom shared them with me anyway.”
“Those recipes can be a real temptation to men after they taste them.”
Melissa peeped at him from under her thick lashes. “Do they tempt you?”
He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, but I’m easy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I need some water,” Harry said, standing. “Do you want some?”
“No, but I’d like to know what you meant.”
He ignored her words and crossed over to the sink. After pouring a glass of water, he stood there, holding on to the counter as if it were a lifeline. Finally, he said, “Honey, I’ve been tempted ever since I saw you. I don’t need any ‘pastries’ as Pierre called them, to be tempted by you.”
Melissa put down her piece of cake and followed him to the sink. But she wasn’t looking for water. She stopped in front of him. “Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
He moved away. “Because I’m pretty sure if I touched you, I’d lose control. And it looks like your dad isn’t going to rescue you today.”
A Randall Thanksgiving Page 16
