With the kind of completely irresponsible lifestyle Larry had lived, Garrett wondered what Larry could have acquired that needed the security provided by a bank vault. He would soon know, Garrett thought, and realized that he would rather not know. Not only was there no good reason for Larry to ever have rented a safety-deposit box, but Garrett now felt like a snoop because he had to check its contents.
By the time Owen led the way into the vault to get the box, Garrett was feeling a bit queasy. He became even more uneasy when he saw the size of the box Owen pulled out.
“He had one of the large boxes?” Garrett asked incredulously. He had assumed Larry would have only a small box and he could tell from the surprised look on Collin’s face that he’d thought the same thing. “Owen, how long did Larry rent this box?”
“I’d have to check for an exact date, Garrett, but off the top of my head I’d say around twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” Clearly, Garrett was flabbergasted.
“Guess Dad could keep a secret,” Collin said rather grimly. “I sure never thought so.”
Garrett’s nerves were getting the better of him. “Let’s get this over with, Owen,” he said gruffly.
“I understand,” the banker said sympathetically, and led them from the vault and down a hall to a room with a large table and a dozen chairs. He placed the box at one end of the table, then took some forms and a pad of yellow paper from an attractive wood cabinet. “In case any of us needs to make notes,” he said by way of explanation for the pad. “Have a seat,” Owen told them, returning to the table.
After sitting down himself, he explained, “The procedure is this, gentlemen. As the items in the box are removed, I will list them on this form, which will be turned over to your attorney and ultimately the court should Larry’s estate require probate.”
“It won’t,” Garrett said. “He didn’t own anything.”
Nodding, Owen reached for the box, which he turned toward Garrett. “Shall we get started?”
Garrett unlatched the lid and lifted it. “Good Lord, it’s nearly full!” he exclaimed. “And what’s this?”
He picked up an envelope that bore Larry’s handwriting. It said, To be opened by Garrett Kincaid, my father, if I should die before him, or my son, Collin, if both Dad and I are gone.
Owen laid his hand on Garrett’s arm. “If there’s a letter in that envelope, you do not have to read it now, but please open it and make sure it doesn’t contain something pertinent to Larry’s estate.”
Garrett complied. “There’s a letter.”
“It will be listed as such. Next item, please?”
Garrett put the letter back in the envelope and set it aside. The letter troubled him, and he was glad that he didn’t have to read it in Owen Palmer’s presence. “Looks like a lot of junk to me, Owen,” he said. “Let’s see. We have a notebook that has some names and addresses of people I’ve never heard of, a datebook/journal from the past year and here’s a stack of canceled checks, all written to people I don’t know, and this stack is—” Garrett frowned as he realized what he was looking at “—copies of birth certificates. Six of them. Why do you suppose Larry had these?”
“Could I see them, Granddad?”
Garrett passed them across the table to Collin. “Perhaps these baby photos mean something,” Garrett murmured as he took out the snapshots and looked at them. “Nope, not to me.”
“There’s nothing in that box pertaining to tangible assets,” Owen declared as Garrett began going through what were obviously personal letters. “That’s what’s most important and what I’m going to write on this form. You and I will both sign it, Garrett, then I’ll leave you two alone. Feel free to stay and use this room for as long as you want. And, of course, you may take any or all of those items with you.”
Garrett scrawled his signature where Owen indicated, and the banker signed his name as witness. The second Owen had gone and the door was shut again, Collin said weakly, “Granddad, Dad’s name is on each birth certificate as the father of the baby.”
Garrett stared as though dumbstruck. “Tha-that’s preposterous.”
“It might be, but it’s also true. Here, take a look for yourself.” Collin shoved the documents back across the table.
Garrett picked them up, read them, then fell back against his chair. “My God,” he whispered.
“Read the letter he wrote,” Collin said, and Garrett heard a note of bitterness in his grandson’s voice.
Garrett would rather do almost anything than read that letter. He knew in his soul that it contained all of Larry’s secrets and he felt foolish for never suspecting that Larry had any. A foolish old man, that’s what you are. This was one of those moments when Garrett felt even older than he was. In truth, he felt as though the weight of the world had descended to his shoulders during the past few minutes.
Slowly, he picked up the envelope and looked at it. He read his son’s handwriting again and recalled that years ago he had worried about Larry’s philandering resulting in an illegitimate child. Gradually, that concern had faded. Larry had gone from one woman to another, but he’d apparently been cautious about birth control as Garrett had never heard a word of gossip about any offspring.
But those birth certificates indicated otherwise, and there were six of them. Six illegitimate children. It wasn’t really possible, was it?
Garrett braced himself, took out the one-page letter and began reading.
Dad or Collin,
I anticipate living to a ripe old age, so odds are that neither of you will read this for many years to come. However, should something unexpected occur and you have cause to examine my personal mementos in this box, you should know that everything in it is true and meaningful. Do not spin your wheels in denial even though you might suppose that I did exactly that. Truth is, I never denied fathering these sons. I simply had nothing to give them. Maybe you do.
Larry
Garrett lowered the letter, then slid it across the table to Collin before picking up the birth certificates again. They all read the same. Sex of child: male. Garrett also checked birth dates and realized that some of these children were older than Collin.
Heartsick, he stumbled to his feet. “Let’s get out of here, Collin.”
“Are we taking this stuff with us?”
Garrett looked at the papers and snapshots on the table. His jaw clenched spasmodically. He wished he’d never had to open that box; he would have been much better off not knowing Larry’s secrets. So would Collin have been better off. Now Collin had six half brothers—probably scattered all over the map—to deal with in some way, and he, Garrett, had six more grandsons. And therein lay the bind. Those boys, wherever they were or whatever their circumstances, were Kincaids.
“Yes. Guess we have to. See if you can round up a sack or box, Collin,” Garrett said, his hoarse voice conveying the state of his emotions.
“He was a despicable man, Granddad,” Collin said bitterly, startling Garrett.
“He was your father,” Garrett said gruffly.
“Yeah, mine and everyone else’s. I wish I’d found out about this while he was alive. I swear I would have beaten him black and blue.”
“You would have struck your father?” Garrett roared. “Not in my lifetime! Go and ask Owen or someone for a box to hold these things and try to control your anger.”
“Control it? Granddad, I’m mad as hell! How dare he do this to us? Aren’t you mad about it, too?”
“I’m…disappointed, Collin. And tired. I’d like to get home. I have a lot to think about.”
With his lips set in a thin, grim line, Collin left the conference room to go in search of something in which to transport his father’s “mementos.”
He had never disliked the man more than he did at that moment.
Garrett asked Collin to drive back to the ranch, and while his grandson drove, tight-lipped and tense, Garrett put his head back and shut his eyes. He’d weathered some severe shocks in his
seventy-two years, but nothing he’d ever run into could compare to this one. The sheer irresponsibility of Larry’s attitude toward his children—all of his children, Collin and Melanie included—was mind-boggling.
Melanie! Garrett opened his eyes and sat up straighter. “I forgot about Melanie’s coming on Saturday. I wonder if she should be told.”
“Yes,” Collin said flatly. “She has as much right to know the truth as I do.” As furious as Collin was, he was aware of how distraught his grandfather had become, and it worried him enough to say, “Unless you object to the idea, I’d like to be the one to tell her, Granddad.”
Garrett thought a moment, then murmured, “It might be easier, coming from you. Frankly, I don’t know how a grandfather would tell a young woman he hardly knows such a thing about her father.”
Collin’s lip curled. “Did you notice the birth dates of some of those kids? Dad fathered his first illegitimate baby while he was still in high school. And there’s one with practically the same birthday as mine, so Dad was out screwing around while he was married to Mom.”
“That’s old news, Collin,” Garrett said with a sigh. “Along with his gambling, his infidelity was the reason your mother left him. But I doubt that Sue Ellen knew about the illegitimate children. Maybe she suspected, but I feel pretty certain she didn’t know for sure. No one did, apparently.”
“Granddad, are you going to contact those guys?”
“I honestly don’t know what to do or even if I should do anything at all.” It was the heart-wrenching truth. Those six men were Kincaids, but did any of them know it? Larry, how could you have been so careless with your own children?
Careless, yes, but he’d still kept copies of his sons’ birth certificates, and he had snapshots of them as infants and canceled checks proving that he had helped out financially.
Garrett laid his head back again and pulled his hat down over his eyes. He wasn’t expecting or even hoping for an immediate solution to the monumental problem he’d inherited this day. Neither did he attempt to deny that there was a problem and that it was his to solve. He was those boys’ grandfather. They were Kincaids whether they knew it or not.
Lastly, he knew he would never have another peaceful moment until he’d reached an acceptable decision about Larry’s secret sons. Just what that might be was lost in clouds of confusion at the present, but Garrett believed that eventually the clouds would part and he would see clearly what he had to do.
He was, after all, a pragmatic man. Every problem had a solution; all one had to do was find it.
It was pure coincidence that Wayne Kincaid phoned from Whitehorn that very evening. “Garrett, how are you?”
Garrett cleared his throat. “Fine, Wayne, just fine.” The things from Larry’s safety-deposit box were scattered on the desk in Garrett’s office. He’d been examining each item, looking for answers among things that instead raised more questions. For one thing, it was obvious from the dates on checks and letters that Larry had stayed in touch with the mothers of his six illegitimate sons for limited periods of time. The addresses listed for those women could still be current or so outdated as to throw anyone seeking contact completely off the scent.
“I have some news, Garrett,” Wayne said. “The McCallums, Jennifer’s adoptive parents, called a meeting of the trustees of Jenny’s estate, which, of course, includes the Kincaid ranch. There are only two trustees, you probably remember, myself and Clint Calloway. Anyway, Sterling and Jessica are very protective of Jenny—rightfully so, considering Jenny’s attempted kidnapping because everyone knows she’s a wealthy heiress—and they’ve decided that the ranch holds too many awful memories for their daughter to grow up with. They want to sell it, Garrett, and for their sake and Jenny’s, Clint and I agreed to put it on the market.”
Garrett was truly stunned. He had visited the Kincaids’ Whitehorn ranch after making contact with Wayne by telephone and realizing that his cousin was a man he would like to meet in person. Wayne, too, had felt that the old feud splitting the family had gone on long enough and invited Garrett to Whitehorn. They’d gotten along well and stayed in touch ever since.
Now, trying to absorb Wayne’s startling news, Garrett recalled riding with Wayne and seeing the Kincaid spread from horseback. Emotion swelled in his chest. Selling land that had been in the family for generations was like selling a piece of one’s soul—even though Garrett himself owned no part of that land.
“Wayne, I know I have no right to say this, but the idea of selling Kincaid land breaks my heart.”
Wayne sighed. “I know what you mean. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, nor would I ever have come up with the idea of selling out on my own. But we all have to do what’s best for Jenny. I guess I called so you wouldn’t hear about it from strangers, Garrett.”
“I appreciate your consideration, Wayne.” Garrett took a rather shaky breath. “I…I have some news myself.”
“Are you all right? You’re not ill, are you?”
“Truthfully, I don’t know what I am. Shocked, for certain. And confused. Wayne, I went to the bank and opened Larry’s safety-deposit box today. It contained proof that Larry fathered six illegitimate sons.”
“My Lord,” Wayne exclaimed. “Unequivocal proof, Garrett?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Do these children live around Elk Springs?”
“They’re no longer children, Wayne. They’re grown men, and I have no concrete evidence of where they live.”
“You sound strained and tired, Garrett. This is getting you down, isn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t it get you down, Wayne? I’ve been thinking in circles since I left the bank this morning. Those six men are Kincaids. They’re my grandsons. I can’t pretend I never found out about them.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, Wayne,” Garrett said wearily.
“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Thanks, I will.”
As Melanie waited in the airport departure lounge with her mother, she was a bundle of nerves. For the past few days, she had been daydreaming about sitting at the dinner table with her grandfather and talking for hours. She wanted to hear his life story from his own lips, as well as everything about her father that Garrett could tell her. And she wanted to hear about her grandmother and spend lots of time with Collin, maybe even spend some time with her Aunt Alice and Uncle Henry.
And, of course, she wanted to see every inch of the ranch. She loved horses and was an experienced, capable rider. Not only that, she’d done some training for the stable where she’d ridden so often while growing up. Garrett had to know that or he wouldn’t have offered her the job of breaking his new fillies. It thrilled Melanie to think of her grandfather’s faith in her talent with horses, and she was anxious to see his new stock.
“I hope you have a wonderful time, sweetie, and please say hello to Garrett for me,” Sue Ellen said.
“Yes, I’ll be sure to do that.” In spite of Sue Ellen’s bright countenance, Melanie could tell that her mother was troubled. “And I will have a wonderful time, Mom. Everything’s going to be fine. Please don’t worry,” Melanie said quietly, belying the nervous fluttering of her own heart.
Sue Ellen Barlow was a petite blonde with lovely blue eyes. At five foot seven, Melanie towered over her mother by a good five inches, but even at fifty-two Sue Ellen remained a strikingly beautiful woman. Melanie was also blond, blue-eyed and beautiful. Heads turned when Melanie Kincaid walked through a crowd. Her carriage and confident walk would have drawn attention even if she hadn’t been drop-dead gorgeous.
Regardless of her parents’ divorce and the sorrow Melanie felt over never really knowing her birth father, she’d always had a good relationship with her mother and stepfather, Steven Barlow. She’d had a comfortable, pampered upbringing—good schools, riding lessons, a BMW for her sixteenth birthday—but to her credit, neither her outs
tanding good looks or affluent lifestyle had ever gone to her head. She had a good and generous heart, a friendly, warm personality and a knockout smile. Not that she couldn’t be strong-willed and even stubborn when someone tried to steamroller her. But she rarely lost her temper and never in her life had she yelled at anyone in anger.
A voice on the sound system interrupted Melanie’s musings. “They’re announcing my flight, Mom.” The way her heart was thundering in her chest, she had to marvel at her calm voice.
Mother and daughter rose to hug and say their goodbyes. “Have fun,” Sue Ellen called as Melanie strode away.
With her heart in her throat, she blew her mother a kiss and then joined the throng of people heading for the gate. Premonition, intuition, instinct or something just plain mysterious gripped her senses as she boarded the plane. This is not going to be an ordinary trip. Something I can’t begin to imagine today is going to happen in Montana. What on earth can it be?
Deplaning in Missoula that afternoon, Melanie spotted Collin almost immediately. Smiling, she ran over to him, and he swung her into a big bear hug.
“Collin, oh, Collin,” she said emotionally, and when her feet were on the floor, she had to wipe a few tears from her eyes. “It’s so good to see you. Where’s Granddad?”
“He didn’t come with me.”
Melanie’s face fell. “I see,” she murmured.
“No, sis, you don’t,” Collin said gently. “He’s anxious to see you, but I need to talk with you about something—the sooner the better—and it was my idea to meet you alone and get it over with.”
Fearing the worst, Melanie felt a chill. “Granddad is ill, isn’t he?”
“No, he’s not, and please don’t try to second-guess me on this because you couldn’t in a million years. We’ll get your luggage and talk in the car. Oh! Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat before we head for the ranch?”
The Kincaid Bride Page 3
