by Leigh Riker
But her mother didn’t take the hint to leave. “I already called in an order for our pizza. Won’t be homemade tonight. I’ve told Ava we’ll make one another time.” She took a seat on the other side of the bed. “I doubt you’re that concerned about work, Shadow.”
As if to prove her mother wrong, she pulled up Jack Hancock’s old application on the screen. If she tried to talk about Grey right now, she wouldn’t be able to control her emotions. “I’ve been trying to think of a job for someone. You remember Bertie?”
“Bertrand O’Neill? I thought he was in rehab.”
“He’s home again—doing better, actually, than he has in years—but his nephew needs to earn some money for them. Not all of Bertie’s hospital bills will be covered, Jack said, and I’m sure more will turn up after his stay in rehab. He doesn’t have the savings left to pay them.” She scrolled through the list of Jack’s work experience, mostly, as he’d said, as a chef or bartender. “I’d like to help them. I have a few contacts. I’ll call—”
“If his nephew is taking care of Bertie, how would getting a job help? Where would Jack find the time? Bertie would be alone.”
Her mother was right—Shadow and Jack had talked about that, too. She knew she was merely masking her worries about Grey and Ava with a far less critical issue, but it was the only way she could cope at the moment. “Hmm. How would you like to make some money? A job might help you, too, Mama.”
She frowned. “The only thing I know how to do is care for my children—and you’ve all but said I didn’t do a good job of that.” She paused. “These days, taking care means my hens. They’re my girls, too.”
Shadow wasn’t sure she appreciated being lumped in with the chickens, but her mother was devoted to them. Was it possible she loved her children as much? We did the best we could. Her mom had said that more than once in different ways. And despite her tendency years ago to cater to Shadow’s father, she’d been a pretty decent parent. Shadow remembered childhood illnesses, hers and the other kids’, remembered her mother sitting up with them all night. Maybe it was time to acknowledge that, to set aside at least some of her resentment. “I think you’d do fine, Mama. Many of the people I place as temporary caregivers have less experience by far—take Blossom, for example. She turned up at my office, desperate for work, and did a great job for Sam Hunter.
“As long as the care consists of light housekeeping, making meals, being there for someone, I’d say you’re more than qualified. You wouldn’t need a nursing degree to be Bertie’s assistant. What if I ask him and Jack about having you there while he’s at work?”
She paused to let that sink in. Shadow didn’t mention the still-looming eviction notice on her mother’s farm. “Let me make a few calls about a job for Jack before the pizza gets here.”
Going to bat for Jack and Bertie wasn’t far removed from her normal order of business with the agency, and she welcomed what she had to admit was a distraction.
Not that she could really keep her mind on business. And off Grey.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IN A RED HAZE, Grey drove home at dusk from Shadow’s house without seeing the road or registering when he passed through the archway to Wilson Cattle. He parked his truck by the back door then went down to the barn, not even wondering if Cody had fed the horses tonight. Grey’s head spun with thoughts of Shadow, of Ava. He hoped a ride might take the edge off his tangled feelings, the emotions he normally avoided. Tonight he couldn’t tamp them down.
With the swift, smooth motions of a lifetime’s practice, he tacked up Big Red, using the saddle he’d owned since he was a teenager—a gift from his father the year he and Shadow started going steady. Guiding the horse down the aisle and out into the fading sunlight, he swung into the saddle then nudged Red into a lope from the barnyard toward the nearby pasture gate. He still wondered if the expensive saddle had been a bribe of sorts. His dad had tried to discourage his two-year relationship with Shadow, citing their youth and hoping to refocus Grey’s attention on the ranch well before Jared was killed.
Grey leaned over to open the gate. Ava. He couldn’t believe that quick, hard punch to his heart at seeing her for the first time. It was one thing to hear about a child he’d never known he had, another to actually see her, the color of her hair and eyes, the sweet, if guarded, expression on her face. Nine years, he thought. Way too long.
He rode through the gate then closed it again. A narrow trail led from Wilson Cattle across the hill between the two ranches to the Circle H. It was the same ride he’d made many times; once, years ago, he’d done it with Logan in the dark and rain to save Grey’s then-three-year-old nephew—Logan’s son—who’d been sick and trapped at the Circle H during a flood. Right now, he just didn’t want to be alone. He hoped Logan was home.
Grey left Red tied to a tree near the kitchen door. As he climbed the back steps, he noticed the sorrel gelding had ignored a clump of rich, green grass to sidle over to Blossom’s newly thriving herb garden and nibble a plant. He seemed to like basil.
“Grey, move that animal to a safer spot.” Blossom had opened the door. She stood, hands on her hips. She had a faint smile on her lips to show she was teasing. “I’ve spent most of this spring and now early summer getting that garden going again. More important, Red will get a bellyache.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” With a tip of his hat and a rueful smile that threatened to crumble, he went back down the stairs to shift Red to a spot halfway across the yard. He hoped the sapling proved stout enough to hold his quarter horse or he’d be walking home tonight. If freed, Red would take off and aim straight for his stall and tonight’s unfinished dinner, putting the perfect cap on Grey’s day. Which was why he hadn’t simply ground-tied him this time by dropping the reins, his more usual practice.
On the porch again, he asked, “Logan around?”
“He’s in the family room. Watching a ball game with Sam.” Blossom held the door wide. “Come on in. What can I get you?”
“Coffee, if there’s any left.”
“I keep a pot on all day. Logan just got back. He and Sam were gone all afternoon to check some baby bison near your place. With their wandering ways several of them had drifted on to federal land with their mothers to graze, so they had a mini-roundup.”
Grey kissed her cheek on his way by. “You’re looking mighty...pregnant there, Mrs. Almost-Hunter.” Maybe he could stick to such simple, even happy, subjects. They could discuss the upcoming wedding and he’d try not to think of Shadow. Even though she was part of it. And the weekend in Kansas City was coming up fast.
“Get your hands off my wife.” With a lazy smile Logan sauntered into the kitchen, his gaze not on Grey but on Blossom. Grey quickly removed his hand from her shoulder. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Any more word on those missing cattle?”
“Nope.”
Grey told him about his talk with Calvin Stern, and that he’d taken the lead in his own investigation because Finn didn’t seem that interested in Jared’s old case. Grey finished, “My gut feeling is Calvin might know more than he let on, but I didn’t get far with him.”
Blossom peered into Grey’s eyes. “Is that all? We always love to have you come visit, and you’re more than welcome to stay for supper, but you don’t look right to me.”
He dropped onto a kitchen chair. Logan pulled out the one opposite and Blossom, as if to give them space, went back to the stove. Something simmered there that smelled like heaven, yet Grey had no appetite, which was a rarity for him that proved one thing: he was a basket case tonight.
“Blossom’s white bean chili,” Logan said with a nod at the stove. “Homemade biscuits and house-churned butter. Something about this baby that’s coming has made her into a domestic goddess.”
“Be careful, mister. Or there’ll be no more of your favorite chicken curry in this house.” At the stove, Blos
som smiled over her shoulder to show she was teasing. “There’s salad, too,” she told Grey, “and enough strawberry-rhubarb pie from last night for everyone.”
“Did I hear something about pie?” Sam called from the other room. He limped to the doorway, eyed Grey and said, “You look like ten miles of bad road.”
“Sam, dinner will be ready soon,” Blossom cut in. “I’ll call you when we’re ready. Maybe you could let us know what the score is then.”
Sam took another look at Grey. “I know what the score is—but I can take a hint.”
Blossom watched him until he went, grumbling, back to the family room, her eyes still full of concern. Grey suddenly wished he’d stayed home. The last thing he wanted was to intrude on her obvious happiness with Logan. Spoil things.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have something stronger than coffee?” she asked.
Logan’s gaze had sharpened, too. “Might as well spill it, Wilson. She’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”
Grey set aside his coffee spoon, hoping his hand didn’t shake. I have a beautiful little girl I never knew about. I met her tonight for the first time. Go figure. He hadn’t expected to feel angry again, but he couldn’t seem to snuff the feeling out. “No, I was just lonesome over there,” he said with a gesture toward Wilson Cattle. “Had some news today, but I’ll make sense of it on my own.”
“Pride,” Logan murmured.
Grey hadn’t forgotten their talk the day after the first cattle went missing. But he had learned years ago to keep his emotions under wraps. He’d felt torn between his parents for most of his life, and often the only way to keep the peace had been to stay quiet and not get involved. Maybe he’d come over tonight just to see Blossom smile, to watch her and Logan tease each other in the kind of normal relationship he could only yearn for. As if...he couldn’t imagine how he and Shadow would ever come to any agreement now.
He wanted to turn his back on her, but because of Ava he couldn’t. He wanted to forget about Shadow’s silky dark hair and liquid, deep brown eyes, how her warm smile always lit him up inside. He’d always thought she would make a great mother, a perfect wife. Tonight neither of them had been smiling.
Blossom stirred the chili then took a seat at the table. She leaned her chin on her hands and stared at him until Grey squirmed.
“Shadow,” he said, studying the tablecloth. “Seems I never learn my lesson with her.”
Blossom laid a hand over his. “I’ve heard about Jared Moran. I don’t pretend to know all of what went wrong between you years ago, but time does heal, as they say.”
He snorted at the platitude. “You think?”
“I’m not trying to make light of whatever is going on, Grey, but I have to assume something bad—as well as new—has cropped up.”
Grey shrugged. “Old and new,” he said under his breath. Then, before the thought crossed his mind, he heard himself say the words. “We have a child—a little girl. She’s already nine years old.”
“And you didn’t know until now?” Blossom asked.
“Tonight.”
“A daughter?” Logan shook his head in disbelief. “You and Shadow?”
Grey nodded. “I’d never seen her before. I stopped by Shadow’s house—unannounced—and she was there. Ava,” he added, saying her name out loud for the first time. His throat stung and he pushed back from the table.
“Hey, wasn’t that the name you guys always talked about?” Logan asked.
“Yeah.” He stood up. “Thanks, but I can’t stay for dinner.”
“Grey,” Blossom said, half rising from her chair.
“Just wanted to catch you up about Calvin Stern.”
Blossom and Logan gazed at each other as if to say, what just happened here? “Grey, wait,” Logan said. So did Blossom.
He ignored their pleas, as Red had earlier ignored the grass in the yard in favor of Blossom’s basil.
Ava had floored him, the way she’d looked at him, assessed him—and likely wondered who he was.
He hadn’t wondered about her. He’d known right away.
Ten years too late.
Doc, Shadow’s sister Jenna and Wanda Moran had all known before he did.
But, hell. He was only Ava’s father.
* * *
SHADOW SAT ON Grey’s front steps. And waited.
She’d cried all the way here, trying to think of what to say. There were no easy words, and I’m sorry wouldn’t cut it with Grey. And every time she glanced at the ground in front of the porch, the place where Jared had died, she was tempted to leave, to run away from that memory. She’d forced herself to come. She hadn’t set foot on this ranch in ten years. Shadow eyed the long driveway that would take her to the crossroads then home. Thank goodness for one thing: Grey’s father wasn’t here.
He’d always been protective of Grey; protective of his daughter, Olivia, too. For that, she couldn’t blame him. Everett Wilson expected big things of his children but he was also their fierce defender. After Jared was shot, Everett had done everything he could to clear Grey of suspicion. But he’d never approved of Grey’s relationship with Shadow. Well, that didn’t matter now, and she was prepared to take her licking. She didn’t expect Grey to let her off the hook about seeing Ava for the first time under those circumstances, but she wanted to at least explain what had happened, that she hadn’t intended to bring Ava back to Barren before he’d met her.
Heart thumping, she pressed her forehead to her knees, in part to block out the memory of her lost brother. At last, she heard the gate to the pasture shut with a grinding shriek of metal on metal, and the noise sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t look up, even as the clip-clop of hooves came into the ranch yard. Shadow stayed where she was, half hoping it wasn’t Grey but one of his men.
After a long moment, she heard Grey’s boot steps coming up the slight rise to the house. He must have seen her Mustang or glimpsed her sitting here at the base of the steps to the front porch, the site of the shooting neither of them would ever forget.
Grey stood in front of her until Shadow lifted her head.
“Well. Isn’t this a surprise,” he said. “Shadow Moran comes to Wilson Cattle. I know how much you like it here.”
“I had to come. I want to explain, Grey.”
His eyes were dark, his handsome mouth set in a hard line. Growing up, she’d always relied on him to remain cool and steady, unlike her father. If she and Grey had some argument back then, as they often did, by this point he would be ready to make up. They’d kiss and share whispered, heartfelt apologies and kiss some more.
Instead, he propped his hands on his hips, standing there like Finn Donovan over a suspect in some horrific crime. His voice stayed deadly quiet. Another bad omen, like the way he’d driven away from her house at a crawl. Of course he had. What else would she expect? But he seemed too tightly controlled.
“I thought I’d be prepared,” he said. “I mean, I already knew about her. Knew how old she is...but I wasn’t prepared. Instead, there was your mother. And Ava.”
“You were shocked,” she said. “That was entirely my fault, Grey. I don’t think you’re ready to discuss this, but I thought I should come anyway. To tell you I care about having blindsided you like that. I wasn’t planning on bringing her...home today. But then Jenna—”
“She’s my child,” he said. “Beautiful, like her mother, but hearing about her didn’t begin to prepare me. What else is there to understand?”
“I know,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap. “I should have told you long ago. I always meant to—”
“Yet you didn’t.”
“I know. I should have. But you went off to finish college and were running Wilson Cattle.” She paused. “And there was always Jared to remember. It wasn’t as if we could ever be tog
ether again, Grey. All those years we lived apart, leading separate lives—”
“Yes, and at Nick’s party, I tried to change that, to talk to you.”
But his nephew’s seventh birthday party hadn’t been the time or place for Shadow. “How could we possibly talk then? With everyone around, and no privacy, the kids having fun, his mom even enjoying herself for once at the Circle H? I never thought I’d see that from Olivia.”
“Shadow, you’ve been in Barren for a year. What changed your mind now?”
“I wanted—I was ready, at last—to bring Ava home. To our new house. I couldn’t do that without telling you first.”
“I take it you haven’t told her—about me.”
“I will,” she promised. She explained about Jenna and David, and bringing Ava home sooner because her sister was upset. “Jenna needed time alone and with Ava there she’d only be exposed to Jenna’s turmoil. Ava’s not that pleased with me right now, but I had little choice. I couldn’t leave her in such a tense situation.”
His next questions seemed to be fired from a gun, so sharp and lightning fast Shadow imagined she could see the muzzle flash of a rifle. Another image of Jared crossed her mind. Grey wasn’t calm now. “Did you think I wouldn’t take responsibility? Even at twenty I would have done that, Shadow.”
She looked away, then back again, forgetting that her eyes must be red and swollen from tears. “I wasn’t sure then about the pregnancy. I only realized I was having a baby after Jared died. Before that, when you and I argued and I ran home, Jared heard me crying—” Her voice broke.
Thank God she hadn’t been here then. She hadn’t watched her brother die in this very spot. Shadow could barely stand to look at it. Briefly, she shut her eyes to block out the sight again. What if she had followed Jared then? What if she’d been able to stop him?