by R. C. Ryan
Mad backed his wheelchair away from the table. Before starting forward he motioned for Ethan. “Want to ride, lad?”
Ethan’s smile grew, and he was lifted easily onto Mad’s lap.
Seeing Casey hesitate, Mad called, “There’s room for two.”
With a giggle, Casey joined his brother on the old man’s lap. Griff held the door while Mad wheeled through the doorway and along the wide hallway, with his two passengers wearing matching smiles of delight.
“Would you care for a tour of the house before you have dessert, lads?”
The two boys clapped their hands, and he easily propelled them along yet another hallway, where he announced each room to them.
“We call this the library. It’s really the office where my son, Bear, used to conduct his business. Now it’s mostly my daughter-in-law, Willow, and our foreman, Brady Storm, who conduct the business. But the rest of us sit in on many of the discussions.” He wheeled along a second hallway. “This is my suite of rooms. They were added on here after my accident, so we wouldn’t have to install an elevator to take me upstairs where everyone else sleeps.”
The boys looked around the large, uncluttered space that offered both a cozy sitting room, with an electric fireplace and tables that held an assortment of books, and beyond that to a large, airy bedroom, with a hospital bed mounded with pillows, and beside it, another large table stacked with books. Across the room was an oversize flat-screen television. Another fireplace added cozy warmth. Like the fireplace in the sitting room, this was electric, so that it could be easily maintained by a handheld control on the bedside table.
“All right, lads. We’ve spent just enough time to let Myrna fill those plates with our desserts. Now it’s time we get to them.”
He wheeled them from the suite and down the hall until they joined the others in the great room, where a log fire was blazing on the hearth.
“Where’ve you been?” Myrna pointed to Mad’s cup. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
“I took the lads on a grand tour of the place.”
The housekeeper pointed to a table set up in front of the fire. “Casey and Ethan, I put your desserts right here, so you can eat and be warm.”
Casey scrambled off Mad’s lap and hurried over to peer at the bowl filled with a slice of pound cake and topped with fresh strawberries and ice cream.
“Wow.” He glanced over at his mother. “Did you get one of these, too?”
“I did.” She looked up in time to see Ethan reluctantly climb down from Mad’s lap before crossing to sit beside his brother. Even the thought of dessert didn’t seem as enticing as being held in the arms of this old man.
Between bites of his gooey dessert, Casey said, “Griff’s grandpa has two fires in his rooms.”
“You mean fireplaces, lad.” Mad winked. “Nights can get pretty cold here in Montana. And this old body isn’t as active as it once was. So I’ll take all the heat I can get.”
Juliet sipped strong, hot coffee before asking, “Are you still able to do any ranch chores?”
The old man shook his head. “I wish I could. The spirit’s still in me. But I’ve become a prisoner in the house because of this—” he glowered at the chair in which he sat “—this iron chariot.”
Intrigued, Juliet leaned forward. “I didn’t notice any ramps when we drove up. How do you get outside?”
“One of the lads carries me.” His subdued tone said much more than his words.
She arched a brow as she turned to Griff. “Didn’t you say you were good with your hands?”
He nodded before a slow smile touched his mouth. “Of course. What was I thinking?”
He turned to Mad. “It wouldn’t be any trouble for me to build you a ramp from the back porch. That way you’d have the freedom to go in and out without having to wait around for someone to help.”
Everyone turned to the old man, waiting to see the expected explosion. Instead, his thoughtful look had them all puzzled. Now what was he plotting? They could actually see the wheels turning in his clever brain, even though, for vanity’s sake, he’d resisted just such a thing for years.
“I suppose that’s something you’d enjoy doing, lad?”
“I can and I will.” Griff glanced at Brady. “Mind if I take one of the ranch trucks to town tomorrow?”
Brady chuckled. “You’re forgetting, Griff. They’re your ranch trucks, too. Take whatever you need. Garvey Fuller owns the lumber mill. He’s out past town about a mile off the highway. You can’t miss it. If he doesn’t have the sizes you need in stock, he’ll cut them for you. Just take along the dimensions you have in mind, and Garvey’s your man.”
“Thanks, Brady.” Griff dug into his dessert and was already mentally calculating what he would do.
It would give Mad a sense of freedom that had been denied him all these years. How the old man must resent being lifted and carried about like a child.
He glanced over to see a little smile playing on Mad’s lips.
Was Maddock MacKenzie already thinking about how much easier his life would be once he could escape this house without asking for help? For a strong, independent cowboy like him, this enforced idleness must seem an endless prison.
Or was the old man merely finding something other than ranch chores to keep him occupied?
No matter the reason, Griff was delighted to have a reason to use his woodworking skills.
As the sky outside the windows grew dark, and the fire burned low, the hum of conversation became punctuated with long pauses and the occasional yawn.
Ash and Brenna took their leave, stopping on the back porch long enough to hook Sammy to his leash.
Juliet looked at her two sons, lying against the big cushions Myrna had dropped on the floor in front of the fireplace. Between them sat Myrna, holding open the big book she’d brought from her room, filled with children’s bedtime stories. At first, the boys had pointed to the various stories they wanted her to read. Now, after the warmth of the fire and the soft, easy murmur of Myrna’s sweet voice, the two little boys were fighting a losing battle to stay awake.
Juliet turned to Willow. “If your invitation to stay the night is still on, I’m willing.” She nodded toward the two limp figures on either side of Myrna, their little heads resting on her shoulders. “I don’t think they can fight sleep any longer.”
“And they shouldn’t have to.” Willow stood. “You take one and I’ll take the other, and I’ll show you where they can sleep.”
“I’ll do that.” Before she could pick up Ethan, Griff was there, lifting him easily in his arms.
Juliet picked up Casey and thanked Myrna.
“They’ve never before had a grandmother read to them. I could see how much of a treat it was for them.”
“Not nearly as satisfying for them as for me,” Myrna said. “It just made my night.”
Calling good night to the others, Juliet followed Griff and Willow up the stairs. Willow led them along a hallway before opening a door and switching on the light.
“This guest room has two beds, side by side, so if one of them wakes in the night, he’ll have the comfort of his brother right next to him. After you’ve settled them in, your room is right next door.” She turned to Griff. “You’ll show Juliet the way?”
He nodded.
Willow hesitated. “Do you need help with your boys?”
Juliet shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough already. I’m used to this. It’ll only take me minutes.”
“All right then.” Willow turned toward the door. “Good night, both of you.”
Juliet hurried over to take her hand. “Thank you, Willow. You’ve made us feel so welcome.”
“I’m glad. Because you and your boys are welcome here anytime. I’d like you to feel free to stay as long as you like.”
She let herself out while Juliet returned to Casey’s side and slipped off his shoes and clothes, leaving him wearing only his briefs, before tucking the blankets around him.
Grif followed her lead and removed Ethan’s shoes and clothes before covering him.
Juliet leaned down to kiss both her boys, then left a light on in the bathroom to guide them if they should wake in the night.
“Come on. I’ll show you your room.” Griff led the way. He saw Juliet stare at her two boys for a long minute before turning away and closing the door. Then they walked along the hall to the next door. He opened it before standing aside to allow Juliet to precede him inside.
Inside, she stared around at the big bed mounded with a down comforter and pillows, and a cashmere throw tossed casually over the footstool of a nearby lounge chair. Beside the chair were a table and lamp and an array of books. Across the room was a desk and chair. On one end of the desk was a flat-screen TV.
She opened a second door to reveal a bathroom fit for a queen, with a tub and shower big enough for an army, a lovely oval sink and mirror, and all of it done in shades of white marble.
She turned to him with a look of alarm. “Oh, Griff. I don’t belong here.”
He merely smiled. “Neither do I. But I won’t tell if you won’t.” His smile grew. “I say we just kick back and enjoy all this until they discover we’re frauds.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out in a sigh. Before she could say more he touched a finger to her lips. Just a touch, but they both looked stunned at his boldness.
He lowered his hand and took a step back. “I’d better say good night and get out of here.”
“Wait.” She caught his hand and held it tightly. “Just stay a minute more. I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
His smile was quick and charming. “I’m feeling overwhelmed myself. But it’s not the room, it’s the woman in it.”
“Don’t joke, Griff.”
His smile disappeared. “It’s no joke. And if I don’t leave you right now, I just might not make it out of here.”
He got as far as the door before turning to look at her. That was his downfall. In quick strides he crossed the room and grabbed her in a fierce embrace.
“I almost made it.” The words were whispered against her temple as he began brushing hot, wet kisses down the side of her face until she turned her head slightly and his lips found hers. “I know you told me you don’t like this.” His voice was a rough growl of desperation.
“That’s what I said. But right this minute I can’t tell you that, Griff.” She clung to him. “I need you to hold me, just for a minute.”
“If I stay for a minute, it could turn into hours. I may not be able to leave at all. In fact, it’s already too late. I know what touching you does to me.”
And then he took the kiss deep, nearly devouring her.
Her body was crushed against him, her heartbeat wildly matching his. The feel of her ragged breath, her pounding pulse, added more fuel to the fire that raged through him.
“Wait, Griff. I need a minute…”
Her words barely penetrated the fog that seemed to have taken over his control.
Instead of doing as she asked, he backed her across the room until they were stopped by the press of the wall against her back. They barely noticed the bump of their bodies as they continued the kiss until they were nearly crawling inside each other’s skin.
He was so hot he could barely catch a breath. Lifting his head, he breathed deeply before lowering his face to hers. “I could stay the night. I could—”
She lifted a hand to his mouth. “Wait. Stop. I need to think.”
“I can’t think. My brain…” He sucked in air, hoping to clear his mind.
“We can’t do this.” She put a hand to his chest.
“I know. I know.” He caught her hand in his. “I’ll go.”
As he started to turn away she lifted herself on tiptoe to brush his mouth with hers. “I don’t want you to, but I know I need to send you away.”
He half-turned back to her. “I don’t have to—”
“Yes. No.” She breathed deeply. “Yes. Go.”
His hands closed around her shoulders. “Was that no? Or go?”
She looked up at the same moment he looked down. They bumped noses, then both burst into laughter. They laughed so hard they clung together, shaking and laughing.
He pressed his forehead to hers and managed another shaky breath. “Okay. At least I know we’re both crazy.” He held her a little away and stared deeply into her eyes before giving a groan. “I’m going now. Just—” he backed away “—don’t touch me or I won’t make it.”
She stayed where she was, watching as he backed across the room. Straightening his shoulders, he turned and opened the door. He stepped out and pulled it firmly shut behind him.
When he was safely out of the room he leaned against the wall and took long breaths until he was calm enough to make it to his own door.
Once inside he tore off his shirt and rolled it into a ball before tossing it across the room. He kicked off one boot, then the other, taking satisfaction in having them slam against the wall.
He stalked to the window. With his arms crossed over his bare chest he leaned against the sill and stared at the darkened sky outside, wondering if he’d ever cool off enough to sleep.
There’d been women. Too many to count. But at the moment, he couldn’t remember a single one. Probably because until now, he’d never cared enough to consider them more than a distraction.
But now…
Now there was Juliet. And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything in his life.
He couldn’t explain why. She was angry and scared and fighting just to survive. She seemed hell-bent on attracting trouble. Add to that the fact that she had two sons with plenty of problems of their own. She could easily decide to pack up and move to a big city clear across the country, where he’d never hear from her again.
That ought to be enough to scare off any guy with half a brain.
He’d always prided himself on being a smart guy.
But he wanted her.
There was no rhyme or reason to it. He’d already made her problems his problems. He was more than ready to make her fight his fight.
And he’d brought her here, not just to keep her safe, but to give his family a chance to get to know her.
His family. How quickly they’d gone from strangers to family. And he wanted them to like this woman.
Now he knew he was a goner.
He was in over his head and slowly sinking beneath an ocean of trouble.
And all he could think about was the fact that he wanted Juliet Grayson with a hot, burning need that was becoming all-consuming.
Chapter Twelve
Juliet woke with a start. One minute she was sound asleep, the next she was sitting up at the sound of a door closing. She pushed hair from her eyes and glanced at the window, where morning light streamed in.
She’d been dreaming. The dream was lost to her now, but it had been about an airplane. It had seemed so real, she could actually hear the engines drawing closer and closer.
And then suddenly she was awake, and the dream, like wisps of fog, had vanished.
It had taken her hours to fall asleep after Griff left. And no wonder, after a scene like that. Even now, just thinking about it had her cheeks growing hot.
She’d practically begged him to make love with her.
Love? How dare she call it that? She’d loved Buddy. And loved him still. It was time for a reality check. What she’d felt for Griff last night was pure lust. It was fear and loneliness. It was her hormones working overtime.
Thank heavens he’d had the common sense to leave before they ended up doing something they would have both regretted. From now on she would have to be more careful around that handsome, charming cowboy.
She slipped from bed and headed toward the shower. A short time later, while toweling herself dry, she heard another door open and close. This one seemed very near.
Draping the towel around herself, she returned to the bedroom in search of the clothes she
’d discarded the previous night. They weren’t on the chair where she’d dropped them. Puzzled, she turned and saw them neatly folded atop the night stand. They smelled of detergent and fabric softener.
She dressed quickly, then made up the bed before slipping quietly from her room and opening the door to the bedroom next door. Inside, the beds had been made, and there was no sign of Ethan and Casey.
Alarmed, she hurried down the stairs. Even before she reached the kitchen she heard a deep, booming voice and the higher-pitched sounds of laughter.
She walked in to find everyone already dressed and sipping orange juice or coffee.
Mad in his wheelchair was at the stove, pouring batter into a waffle iron. Perched on his knees were Ethan and Casey, watching intently as he closed the lid.
Seeing her, Casey yelled, “Hi, Mama. We’re making awfuls.”
“Waffles,” Mad corrected.
“Oh yeah. Waffles,” the little boy chirped. “I told him you make ours in the toaster.”
“Those things should be called awfuls,” the old man said with disdain. “Wait until you taste mine. You’ll never eat another one of those store-bought cardboard things that pass for real food.”
With a wink Griff handed her a glass of foaming orange juice.
She felt her cheeks flush as she avoided his eyes and tasted it before giving a sigh of surprise. “Oh, this is wonderful. Fresh squeezed.”
Just then Willow walked into the room, wearing a look of frustration. Behind her, Brady Storm, looking equally annoyed, touched a hand to her shoulder in a show of support, which brought a weak smile to her lips.
Trailing them was the most sophisticated man Juliet had ever seen. Perfect white teeth in a tanned face that was as smooth, as polished, as the Armani suit he wore with casual elegance.
Spotting Juliet, he paused in the doorway. “Who is this? Have you added another secret family member to the MacKenzie clan?”
Willow said through clenched teeth, “Lance McMillan, this is our neighbor Juliet Grayson and her two sons, Casey and Ethan. Juliet owns the Grayson Ranch just beyond our northern border.”
