A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming)

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A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 9

by Rustand, Roxanne


  Ryan turned at the sound of shuffling footsteps at the door and found his youngest brother with one hand braced against the frame, his face sallow.

  “Howdy, bro.” Garrett’s voice was filled with morning-after gravel, his words slurred. The undercurrent of resentment in his tone was loud and clear. “Ah, I see you’re in here saving us all from ruin.”

  Ryan gave him a contemptuous once-over and raised his voice. “And I see you’re awake.”

  Garrett flinched. “I’m drunk, not deaf.” He moved into the room with the cautious balance of someone trying to avoid jarring a killer headache.

  “That’s hungover, not drunk, and you’re a mess. Is this what you do all the time?” After arriving late Wednesday, Garrett had showered and headed into town. Apparently he’d stayed out most of the night and slept most of Thursday, then took off again last night.

  “S’pose so.” Garrett eased himself into one of the leather upholstered chairs in the office, propped a booted foot on the other one, and slouched until he was nearly prone. “Less I’m chasin’ the bulls. Got no place to go this weekend.”

  A strip of Ace bandaging showed beneath the cuff of his white Western shirt. Curious, Ryan moved closer and brushed the hair back from Garrett’s forehead. Sure enough, a deep yellow-green bruise covered the left side. “You get this in a bar fight, or from that last bull?”

  Garrett batted his hand away. “Bull,” he growled.

  “Eight seconds?”

  “Made it to seven. He was a real good draw, and I was scoring high…then he sucked into a reverse spin and came right out from under me. Left me in the dirt.”

  So he’d been out of the money, which probably accounted for his return to the ranch. Trevor had said Garrett traveled with rodeo buddies, and avoided coming home as long as any of them were earning enough to keep gas in the truck and the next entry fees paid.

  “What about your arm?”

  “’S nothin’.”

  “Fracture? Sprain? Or do you just wear that Ace for decoration?”

  Garrett glanced at Ryan, then looked away. “Banged up a little, is all.”

  “Were you seen by a doctor? Did you have X-rays?”

  “No time. Danny and Trace had to make it to Albuquerque by tonight. So we came back here, they got Danny’s truck and took off.”

  The sullen tilt of his mouth was so reminiscent of him as a child that Ryan had to curb a laugh. “Left you behind, did they?”

  “Don’t matter.”

  Ryan had already come across three substantial checks made out to Garrett over the past four months. “You thought you’d stop by, pick up some money and take off again. Am I right?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Let me get this straight. You and Trevor stand in line to inherit this place. Trevor’s working his butt off here, you breeze through when you need money. Sounds fair.”

  “It’s none of your business.” He propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and gingerly touched his fingertips to his temple. “You…have no idea what’s fair.”

  Ryan laughed out loud. Fair would have been a father who’d been close, loving, supportive. A father who wouldn’t have stalled every dream and threatened to disown him if he didn’t buckle. Fair would’ve been a father who made that threat in the heat of anger, but didn’t follow through.

  Ryan knew all about the fairness in Clint Gallagher’s cold heart, but he just smiled grimly. “Maybe you wheedled money out of the past managers here at the ranch, but while I’m here that won’t happen.”

  Garrett shot to his feet—the dramatic effect spoiled when he stumbled over his own legs in the process and then swayed until he caught his balance. “You can’t do that.”

  “Try me.” Ryan waved a hand toward the training pens outside. “Get sober, get that arm checked out. Then you can start riding colts and helping with chores around here. Earn your money, and you’ll get your check in a month. You’re twenty-six, Garrett. It’s time to grow up.”

  “It isn’t your decision.” His voice filled with loathing, Garrett shouldered Ryan belligerently as he passed on his way to the door. “You can get lost.”

  Pain sliced through Ryan’s shoulder at the rough contact, followed by a roll of nausea in his stomach. But worse than that was his guilt over the two young brothers he’d left behind when he went into the service.

  “I’ve been there, kid,” he said softly, watching Garrett stalk toward the house. “And there’s all kinds of ways to get lost. I’m just sorry you haven’t found your way back yet.”

  CODY FIDGETED in his seat as his mom turned off the highway. Huge stone pillars rose on either side of the lane, supporting a heavy log suspended high overhead with The Four Aces carved on it in fancy letters. There were big flowering bushes flanking the entrance, too, and the road ahead was lined with trees and a white pipe fence that seemed to go on forever.

  Before, they’d entered the ranch through a back pasture gate, and had left after dark. Now, in the bright, Saturday-morning sunlight, it all looked so grand, so different from their own place, that he suddenly felt very small and a lot more nervous. “What if it’s a mistake? Maybe this wasn’t really the day.”

  Mom glanced over at him and smiled. “Hayden’s mom called just last night, honey.”

  “But what if they, like, don’t really want me to come over? Maybe it’s just a big favor, or something, and I’ll be in the way.”

  “Donna said you were more than welcome. She said Hayden’s looking forward to this, and if it works out, we’ll try to get you two together on a regular basis.”

  He laced his fingers over his stomach. “My stomach feels weird.”

  “Really.” Mom frowned, but kept her eyes on the road. “For how long?”

  “Uh…all morning. Since I got up.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “So that was before the three bowls of cereal and the hour you spent working on your fort in the barn? I sure heard a lot of pounding out there.”

  “Yeah. Only now it’s worse. Maybe I’ll have to throw up, or something.”

  She gave him a pat on the leg. “Let’s see how this goes. You might feel a lot better once we get there.”

  The road went up and down hills, past rocky crags and stands of live oaks, a big pond surrounded by pines, then finally the ranch house came into view. From this angle, it was a whole lot bigger and fancier than he’d realized. What was it like to have so much money that you practically owned the world?

  He could see Hayden’s dad leading a horse into the barn, and a couple of men over by a pen of cattle. Someone was riding a horse in the big outdoor arena. Everywhere he could see, there were neat, white pipe-fenced corrals and pastures filled with horses or cattle.

  By the time they pulled to a stop in a parking lot in front of the barns, Hayden was standing there, tossing a football in the air.

  Mom reached for her door handle, then hesitated. “I might just sit in here and read for a while,” she said. “Go on now—he’s waiting for you.”

  Suddenly feeling shy, Cody slunk down in his seat.

  Ryan came out of a nearby barn and sauntered up to his mom’s window. “Thanks for bringing your son over.”

  “It’s so nice of you to invite him.”

  Ryan shrugged. “It’ll be good for everyone. I just need to wrap up a few things in the office, and then I’ll be ready. The boys can hang out for a while. Knowing Hayden, he’s probably got a million things he’d like to show Cody.”

  “The kittens, Mom,” Cody stage-whispered, hoping she hadn’t forgotten.

  Ryan leaned down to peer through the window at Cody. “I’m sure we have plenty of those.” To Mom he added, “Either Donna or I can bring Cody home.”

  “I don’t want to be any bother. I don’t mind waiting, really.”

  “Donna says she’d love to have you come over for coffee, in that case.” Ryan pointed to the road that led past the barns. “They’re just a couple miles farther.”

  Cody climbe
d out of the truck and wandered over to Hayden. “You wanna practice while we wait for your uncle?”

  Nodding, Hayden stepped back twenty paces and lobbed the ball at Cody. He caught it in a bear hug at his chest, then scrambled to send it back again. Out of the corner of his eye Cody saw his mom’s truck pull away and the ball accidentally went wild, arcing way over Hayden’s head. “Sorry.”

  Hayden ran after it and sent it flying back harder than the last time, and it stung Cody’s hand so much that he dropped it on contact. “Hey!”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then Hayden turned away in disgust. “Loser.”

  They weren’t good friends at school. They were in the same classroom, though they sat across the room from each other, and there’d been a thread of competition between them in gym and at recess since the first day they met.

  Now, that whispered word bit deep as Cody watched Hayden disappear into the barn. He stood alone in the empty parking lot, then wandered down the dark, cool aisle of the barn, wondering where Hayden had gone. The jerk. Who wanted to be friends with someone like him, anyway—just ’cause he had a rich grandpa and lived on a fancy ranch?

  At the end of the aisle he heard voices on the other side of a half-opened double door, so he kept going—then froze when he heard Hayden’s angry voice.

  “I’m ’sposed to be nice to him, but I wanted to go to the horse sale with Dad today!”

  A deeper male voice murmured something Cody couldn’t quite hear.

  “I don’t care,” Hayden said stubbornly. “I coulda gone if Mom hadn’t made me stay home. Cody’s a creep, and anyway, I heard about what his grandpa did. Mom and Dad were fighting about Nate last night, and I heard.”

  Feeling as if an iron fist had grabbed his stomach, Cody held his breath and eased forward until he could see around the corner. A man with the same dark hair as Ryan was leaning against the bumper of a pickup, a beer can lowered at his side and a cigarette in his other hand.

  The man made a wide gesture toward Hayden with the beer. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on your parents, kid.”

  “Well, Uncle Ryan had to come home because of it. I know you don’t like that, ’cause I heard you and him argue, too,” Hayden shot back.

  “You are the nosiest nephew I have,” the man growled with a hint of exasperation. “The only one you have,” Hayden retorted, as if it were an old joke between them. “Anyway, it isn’t fair. I heard Dad say Nate was Cody’s grandpa, and that it was all Nate’s fault that a lot of money disappeared. He stole it when he worked here, then he died, and no one ever found it. How come no one ever told me? Is that why Dad won’t buy me a new four-wheeler?”

  Cody felt himself go cold, then hot.

  Grandpa Nate?

  He took a step farther back into the shadows, humiliated. Every time the Gallaghers looked at him, were they thinking about what his grandpa did? Maybe even watching to see if Cody was a thief, too?

  He spun on his heel and dashed down the aisle, ignoring the squeal of the door behind him and the call of his name.

  Outside, he squinted in the bright sunshine as he scanned for any sign of his mother’s truck. Then he started running down the road toward the highway. It had to be miles and miles away, but there was no way he wanted to stay here now—not with humiliation burning in his stomach and the sound of Hayden’s scornful voice still ringing in his ears. Had he told kids at school already?

  At the top of the first hill he stopped to catch his breath. Glancing behind him, he could see Hayden and his uncle standing in front of the barn, looking around—probably calling his name—though it was too far away to hear them.

  He shaded his eyes as he studied the rolling hills to the east, considering the possibility of cutting across country to find his way home. Not likely. Heaving a sigh, he started toward the highway.

  Sooner or later Mom would come by.

  He wouldn’t tell her about the lies he’d heard. She’d be upset—and what could she do about it anyway, since Grandpa was dead?

  He would think up a story about why he’d started for home, and then make sure he never talked to Hayden or came to the Four Aces again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AT THE SIGHT of a forlorn figure trudging along the side of the road, Kristin breathed a sigh of pure relief. She dialed the Four Aces number on her cell phone and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her truck until an unfamiliar male voice answered.

  “Garrett here.”

  “This is Kristin. Tell Ryan I found Cody walking home. I’ll have a talk with him about not running off like this, I promise you.”

  “Uh…good. That’s good.” He ended the connection abruptly, leaving her to wonder at the odd note in his voice.

  The Gallaghers were all probably thinking Cody was impulsive and undisciplined, but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was seeing her son ahead. If he’d tried to cut across the pastures… She shuddered, imagining rattlers and scorpions, and envisioning him lost through the heat of the day. And it’s my fault, she said to herself as she pulled to a stop. He didn’t want to come over here, and I made him anyway.

  She rolled down the window on the passenger’s side and leaned across the seat. “Hey, buddy—need a lift?”

  He stopped walking, but he kept his eyes forward, his hands clenched tight at his sides. She could see dusty tracks down his cheeks where he’d been crying, and without a ball cap to shade his face, his nose was already turning pink.

  Without a word, he climbed into the truck and fastened his seat belt.

  “Kind of a warm day for a hike, isn’t it?” She checked the odometer. “You walked a whole mile and a half, honey.”

  He made some sort of unintelligible sound in response.

  “You know that the Gallaghers have been looking for you? They’ve been searching all of their barns and corrals in case you went hunting for those kittens. When Ryan called me a few minutes ago, he was worried about you.” She considered how much she should say. “It was very nice of them to ask you to come over, and it was wrong of you to just take off like that.”

  He stared out the side window as if he didn’t even hear her.

  “If you don’t think this is a problem, maybe we’ll need to look at grounding you for a while.” When he still didn’t respond, she added, “And that would include riding and television. I’m sorry, but—”

  The cell phone on the seat jingled, and she grabbed it on the second ring.

  “Kristin? This is Ryan. Garrett tells me you found Cody.”

  “On his way home. Without a word to any of you. I’m really sorry.”

  There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and then Ryan cleared his throat. “I’ve been talking to Garrett. I need to talk to you privately. Can I stop by your place in a half hour or so?”

  A lecture, perhaps, on her lack of parenting skills? A tactful discussion regarding the end of any further visits to the Four Aces? “Sure. Why not.”

  There’d been a time when her world had revolved around Ryan Gallagher, but what he thought about her didn’t really matter. Not anymore.

  The sooner they got this little discussion over, the better.

  KRISTIN SENT CODY on up to his room until lunch, then settled in at her newspaper-covered dining-room table with her shoe box of acrylic paints.

  She’d just opened up the midnight blue when she heard heavy footsteps on the porch steps and a familiar voice calling her name.

  “Come on in,” she said, selecting a brush from the assortment soaking in a Mason jar of water. She dried it against a paper towel and dipped it in the paint, then began touching up the shadows on the bluebonnets she’d painted around the edge of a weathered board.

  Maybe Ryan had some things to say, but she didn’t need to give him her full attention.

  He walked through the living room to join her at the table. “Nice,” he said, as he studied the sign. “I’d forgotten this place was called Cedar Grove Farm. I don’t think there�
��s been a sign up for years.”

  “There is one—but it’s old and faded, and hidden by some scrub cedars.” She touched up another flower, then held the brush aloft. “But I’m sure you didn’t come over to check out my beginner artwork.”

  He frowned, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “It’s about Cody…we need to talk.”

  Sighing inwardly, she dropped her brush into the water glass with the others, and capped her jar of paint. “And?”

  “I thought it strange that Cody took off like he did, because I knew he’d been looking forward to some extra football practice.” Ryan cleared his throat. “I feel much of this is my fault, really. If I hadn’t had those phone calls to make before noon…”

  This wasn’t what she’d expected at all, and a sixth sense sent a chill across her skin. She glanced toward the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, where Cody might still be able to overhear, then nodded toward the kitchen. “Maybe we should go in there to talk.”

  She bustled over to the coffeemaker and started a pot brewing, while Ryan stood looking out the windows by the kitchen table, his thumbs hooked in his back pockets.

  He’d changed so much.

  Not just the limp when he walked, or the way he favored that damaged shoulder. Even when he was simply conversing, there was a weariness in his eyes that didn’t fade. But now…he seemed to carry the weight of the world.

  She spilled some store cookies onto a plate and set them on the table, retrieved two mugs from the cupboard and poured the coffee. “Please, have a seat.”

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment, but simply stood behind a chair with his hands resting on the back. “I had a long talk with Garrett, and I’m not exactly sure where to start.”

  “Sit. Eat a cookie.” She managed a smile, even though her stomach was tied in knots. “You’ll feel better.”

  “Trevor took off for a horse sale this morning. Donna had already made plans for Cody to come over, so she wouldn’t let Hayden go. He was upset, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior.” Ryan snorted with disgust. “He walked off after Cody arrived. He found his Uncle Garrett and said things he shouldn’t have—things that Cody must have overheard, because Garrett saw the boy run out of the barn.”

 

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