The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3)

by Cora Seton

"So she takes it out on us?" Rob stood also. "I'm sick of playing the scapegoat."

  "She's sorry she's been so awful," Jamie said. "I'm sorry, too. I got mad because Claire was mad, and because I want to belong to this ranch all the way. I want to be Ethan's partner, not his hired hand. Can't you understand that?"

  Rob let out a long sigh. Sure, he could understand that. Both wanting to call the shots and feeling protective of the woman he loved. He shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for the door.

  "You'll change your minds, won't you?" Jamie called after him.

  They certainly wanted to, but Jamie was the one apologizing, not Claire, and it was Claire's apology that really mattered. "Look, between Claire and my father, it's too tense for us to settle down here. Morgan and I want a place to belong, too. We'll keep looking until we find it."

  * * * * *

  "Try this one," Tara said, holding out a glass filled with dark red liquid. Regardless of the sip and spit tradition in the tasting rooms they'd visited so far, Morgan was beginning to feel a comfortable buzz. Swirling the wine in her glass, she breathed in its bouquet of black currant and oak. Another wonderful California Cabernet Sauvignon.

  "I'm glad you two came in. Mondays are slow," the man behind the counter said. He was in his late forties, with brown hair shot with grey, and a thickset frame.

  "There's always work to do at a winery," Morgan said with a smile.

  "Sounds like you know what you're talking about," the man said, cocking his head. "You in the business?"

  "Yes. Well, I was. I mean…I'm going to be." She shook her head and tried again. "I just resigned as distillery manager at a Victoria winery. I'm trying to set up my own shop in Montana."

  "Montana. Wow, you like a challenge, don't you?" He leaned an elbow on the counter and waved her and Tara onto the stools on the other side.

  "I do," Morgan said, nodding and taking a seat. "But I'm running into some problems."

  "Can I ask why Montana? There are plenty of wineries looking for help around here. I should know," he added wryly.

  "That's where my family is," she said. "Of course, right now they don't seem to be too interested in my plans. That's why I'm here."

  "You said you were a distillery manager? Because I happen to be in the market for one of those. I'm Ted Hennessey. I'm the owner here."

  "Oh, my goodness. I thought you were a server," Morgan said, taken aback. "You probably thought I was angling for a job."

  "I was hoping you were. I mean, if you turn out to be qualified," Ted said. "Want a tour? A real tour – not the watered down one we give to customers. I'll tell you more about the position."

  Morgan turned to Tara. "Want to?"

  "Sure."

  Ted turned out to be the perfect host, answering all of Morgan's most detailed questions about the winery's operations. He plied them with more wines to taste; everything from his oldest vintages to his newest experiments. Morgan loved the way he listened to her opinions and seemed to give weight to the few suggestions she had to make. By the end of the tour she knew that working at Hennessey's would be nothing like her time with Elliot and Duncan.

  Ted wrote down the salary he was offering on a slip of paper, folded it and handed it to her. "Take this home and think about it. If you're interested, give me a call. We'll work out all the details."

  Morgan and Tara were giggling like a pair of schoolgirls by the time they reached Tara's car.

  "Oh, my gosh, if you take the job I'll be able to see you all the time," Tara squealed. "You've got to take it."

  Reality hit Morgan squarely in the gut as she climbed into Tara's Subaru. Sure, it was fun to entertain the idea of moving to California to work for a major winery whose owner thought you had something important to contribute, but she already missed Chance Creek and her family.

  She missed Rob.

  "How much did he offer you?"

  Morgan opened the slip of paper and whistled. "A lot," she admitted. Much more than Elliot paid her.

  "Won't you even consider it?" Tara asked.

  "Of course I will," she said. "And it's nice to have an ace in my pocket if everyone back home doesn't come to their senses."

  "Hmmph," Tara said. "In other words, don't hold my breath."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Where are you going?" Ethan asked Rob that evening, when they ran into each other outside the Big House.

  "Carl's." The last thing Rob wanted was a conversation. He was struggling to keep up his end of the charade. He'd played many a practical joke in his lifetime, but never one that ran for so long. He was so terrified of being caught out he could barely speak these days.

  "You're still finishing that job? I thought…" Ethan trailed off.

  "You thought I'd quit because we're leaving town?"

  "Well, you were doing it to raise money for Morgan's winery, right?"

  "I said I'd do the job, so I'm doing it. Doesn't matter why I took it on." Rob climbed into the truck, knowing it wasn't fair to judge Ethan for thinking he might quit in this circumstance. He had a long row to hoe before people took for granted that he was a hard worker, rather than a layabout. He'd made his bed and he was sleeping in it now.

  "I'm really sorry about the way things turned out," Ethan said. "I believed in you. I still do."

  Rob swallowed. Ethan had been the only one who'd stuck by him through this whole mess. He should say something in return, but somehow he couldn’t force out the words. He didn't want to lie to his friend more than he already had. Ethan turned toward the house.

  "I hope you two will change your minds. No matter what Claire and Jamie say, there's always room for you and Morgan on this ranch."

  "Thanks, man," Rob said, and started the truck before he spilled the beans.

  * * * * *

  Morgan clicked through the texts on her cell phone after dinner, dread building with each message. She'd refused to answer any of them since she'd left Montana. Let everyone stew in their own juices for a while.

  Then she got to the latest one that Lisa had left, and against her better judgment, opened it to see the whole message.

  I know you can't be as heartless as you're acting. You can't take my baby away to California, raise my grandkids so far away, and deprive me of the one chance I have to throw a wedding. Please change your mind!

  She opened one of Claire's next.

  I swear I'll never ask you about money again. I get it – you don't know where it went, and I should never have blamed you. When Jamie and I went on our honeymoon and talked about having kids right away, it all became too real and I got scared. I don't want to turn out like Mom did. Plz call!

  There were several voice messages, too. When she brought up the first one, someone cleared his throat on the other end of the line. Then a gruff, masculine voice she didn't recognize at first said, "A winery's still the stupidest idea I ever heard, but I'll agree to it if that's what it takes to ransom my grandkids from that knee-jerk liberal excuse for a state. I don't want them to join the leftist commie legions trying to destroy this nation…" There was a scuffle and Lisa's voice in the background. "Don’t you talk to my daughter-in-law that way, Holt!" A dial-tone rang in her ear. Morgan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

  The next message was from Rob. "I miss you," he said, and her entire body cried out with the desire to be in his embrace. "I think our plan might be working. Hang in there, okay? You wouldn't believe how much progress I'm making on Carl's garden since I can't stand being at home without you there. I'll talk to you soon."

  She couldn't stand being without him, either. Couldn’t wait to talk to him, and even more so, couldn't wait to share his bed. As much fun as she was having visiting Tara and exploring California, the week was crawling by. At the end of it, would the people she'd left behind be able to forge a better understanding?

  Or was Napa Valley going to be her new home in truth? She dialed Rob's number.

  * * * * *

  "You what?" Rob leaned against a met
al rake in Carl's garden, and held his phone up to his ear. He'd been smoothing down the pathways between his newly finished raised beds to prepare them for the paving stones. He'd figured it was safe to talk to Claire out here in the middle of the night. No one else was around, that was for sure.

  "I got a job offer," Morgan said.

  "I thought you were sightseeing out there."

  "Yeah, well, one of the wineries we visited wants to hire me."

  "You said no, didn't you?"

  "I told them I'd think about it, actually."

  He gazed around the empty garden in disbelief. "Why the hell did you do that?"

  "Because I can't live there if everyone's going to hate me for following my dreams. I actually thought about giving it all up, did you know that? I came out here determined to talk myself out of wanting a winery, but you know what? I do want one, and I'm not ashamed of that. The way I figure it, I get one shot at this life. If I give everything up now, I'm going to resent that later, and that doesn't help anyone."

  "What about me?" Rob said.

  "I want to be with you," she said, her voice softening. "I haven't changed my mind about that. All I'm saying is that you and I have to come first in all of this. We can't put your father or my sister ahead of us. I will give everything I have to help you reach your dreams, too. Don't you know that?"

  "Yeah, I know it," he said after a pause. "So, we're really going to do this? Head out to California and start all over if that's what it takes?"

  "I don't want that any more than you do," Morgan said softly. "But now we know we can if we have to."

  Headlights scraped Carl's driveway and Rob straightened up. "Someone's coming. I've got to go."

  "Talk to you tomorrow," Morgan said and clicked off the line.

  Rob shoved the phone in his pocket as a familiar truck pulled to a stop and his father climbed out. Reluctantly, he met Holt halfway.

  "Dad."

  "You ready to come to your senses yet?" Holt rasped.

  Anger swept through him, and Rob fought to keep control. This was the man who was screwing everything up between him and the woman he loved. What right did Holt have to keep throwing a monkey wrench in their plans? He'd thought when he agreed to buy the land from Ethan instead of getting it from his father, he'd finally know peace and security. It fried him that his position was as precarious as it had ever been and his father kept trying to make it even worse. "No. I'm not. In fact, I'm ready to go stark, raving mad."

  "What the hell does that mean?" Holt puffed up his chest in anger, but Rob suddenly realized they weren't seeing eye to eye. He was looking down at his father. What the heck was wrong with the man? Why was he all hunched up like that?

  Probably a bid for sympathy, Rob decided. Well, forget it. He was done with sympathy or any other weak emotion that kept him from getting what he wanted.

  "It means that I don't like your definition of sanity. You think you should get to keep calling the shots for the rest of my life. I think you've proved you're not capable of running the show."

  "You think you are?" Holt said. "When have you ever run anything? Except your mouth."

  For crying out loud. Rob waved to the garden they were standing next to. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near finished, but the walls were up and so were the permanent raised beds. The plumbing for the fountain was in and the pathways all laid out. Another week like this one and it would be beautiful. How could his father look at this and still belittle him? "When have I ever run anything? Take a look around you, Dad."

  Holt did and sneered. "You're building a garden. Very nice. When you're done playing in the dirt like a little child, how about you join the men in your family at the ranch you stand to inherit? Or is that too hard for a sissy like you?"

  "You really take the cake, old man," Rob said. "You're blind to everything except your precious ranch. You can't stand it that I'm making my own way, can you? You can't stand losing control of anything, because you're afraid if you do someone will figure out you're not half the man you pretend to be."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," Holt said.

  "I'm talking about the fact that you can't read, which means the truth is, Mom's the one running the Double-Bar-K. She does the paperwork, she orders the feed and pays the taxes. She types of bills of sale, and keeps track of breeding stock. She handles just about everything that makes money on this ranch. And you're not even man enough to fess up about it, let alone to admit that maybe one of your sons wants to do something different. Or is your real fear that if I follow my dreams I might prove myself to be smarter than you? Oh wait – I am smarter than you; I know how to read…"

  Holt quivered with rage and his face in the moonlight was a mottled purple. "Don't you dare talk to me like that. I'll…"

  "What, Dad? Whip me within an inch of my life? Or will you turn me over to Ned, so he can do it?"

  "He never beat…"

  "For God's sake," Rob snarled. "Sure he did. Or can you not read faces, either? How many black eyes did I have as a kid before I learned to beat him back?"

  "So you learned to fight," Holt said. "What man doesn't? If you can't make your point with words, sometimes you have to do it with your fists. I didn't raise any pansies."

  Rob stared at him in disbelief. "No, you didn't raise any pansies, Pop. But you know what? I've just realized I don't want you anywhere near my kids. Morgan was right. We'll be better off in California."

  "Ah, go on with you," Holt rasped. "That's a lie and you know it. Don't you think I can spot one of your jokes a mile away? I've seen enough of them."

  "Well, you've seen the last of them, Dad. It's no joke. Morgan's got a job, and I'm joining her in California the minute I finish working for Carl." He'd said these exact same words before as a joke, but this time he meant them. He was done with his father, done with Chance Creek, done with everyone who'd ever worked to hold him back.

  Holt fixed him with an angry stare, but Rob met his gaze and let the truth of his words speak through his eyes. His father must have realized all the jokes were truly over, because a change came over him. He stiffened, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  Then he fell to his knees.

  "Dad?" Rob bent forward as his father clapped a hand to his arm. His face contorted and he struggled to breathe. Rob dove to catch him before he went limp. "Dad!" All Holt's weight resting against him, he yanked the phone from his pocket and dialed 911. "Hello? Send an ambulance. My father's had a heart attack."

  * * * * *

  When Morgan couldn't ignore the vibration of her cell phone anymore, she asked Tara to pause the chick flick they were watching and picked it up.

  "Oh, my God," she said as she read the frantic texts from Rob, Ethan, Autumn and Claire. "Rob's father is in the hospital. It looks like he had a heart attack."

  The concern on Tara's face echoed her own. Morgan thought fast. "I'm going to call the airline and see if I can get a flight first thing tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I've got to go home."

  Late the following day she found Rob in the waiting room of the Chance Creek hospital. He looked haggard, his clothes so rumpled, she wondered if he'd spent the night here.

  "How's Holt doing?" she asked as she sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his back. She drank in his familiar scent and closed her eyes. They'd been apart much too long.

  "He's in stable condition. It wasn't his heart after all; the doctors think he had some kind of panic attack. But it turns out my Dad found out about a month ago he needs open heart surgery. It's already scheduled for next week. He's got three blocked arteries and he never even told me."

  She could see how much that hurt Rob. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Wait a minute," she thought fast. "He knew he needed open heart surgery before he offered 200 acres to the first one of you guys to get married? Do you think that's why he did it?"

  "Yeah, I do. He's scared." She felt his muscles tighten under her hands. "He's trying to act like he's not, but I know him. I've never seen
him like this before. A panic attack, for heaven's sake."

  Morgan stroked his back. "He's going to be okay, Rob. You have to believe that."

  Rob nodded, tension tightening his jaw. "Morgan, I’m sorry. I can't go to California. Not when my dad…"

  "I don't want to go to California," Morgan said. "I want to live here, you know that. I just don't want everyone to be mad at me."

  "Jamie's not mad at us anymore; he's been practically begging me to stay. Claire still wants to know what your mother did with all that money, but she knows you did nothing wrong." He sat back. "I learned something about my dad and Ned, too."

  "Really? What?" She snuggled in by his side, her heart melting when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She touched his thigh. She liked the feel of his muscles; the strength of him.

  "Neither of them can read. Can you credit that?"

  She stilled. "That's why your Dad was so down on school and report cards?"

  "A combination of fear I'd figure out what he was hiding, and that I'd show up Ned, who was hiding something, too."

  "And that's why Ned picked on you so much."

  Rob sighed. "I guess I'm supposed to forgive him for all that now, but I don't feel like it much."

  "I don't blame you." She thought for a moment. "Maybe you don't have to forgive him so much as understand him a little better."

  "Yeah." Rob grunted. "Guess I could do that."

  Lisa appeared in the waiting room and her whole face brightened when she saw Morgan. "I'm so glad you came back, honey. You aren't taking that awful job in California, are you?" She crossed the room and hugged her tight.

  "We were just talking about that," Morgan said.

  "Well, why don't you both come in to see Holt and we'll talk about it together." Lisa tugged them both to a stand and led the way back down a maze of halls to a small, private room.

  Morgan lagged behind Lisa and Rob when they entered the room, afraid to see the man who seemed to hate her so much. When they moved aside, and she got a glimpse of him, however, she was saddened to see him looking so frail beneath the bedclothes.