by Kate Pearce
“Tell the Morgans to fix this fence, okay?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Why do you think I’m here?” She hoped he got the silent dumbass she’d added to her question. “It will be fixed as soon as someone can get up here and do it.”
“You didn’t come prepared?”
Rachel considered his question, which she supposed was a valid one, but still made her feel inadequate. “I don’t know how to fix a fence.”
He snorted and half turned away from her.
She pointed at his pickup, which was parked reasonably close. “I suppose you’ve got all the right tools in your truck?”
“Yeah, sure I do. But I don’t work for the Morgans, and I can’t afford the time to do it for free.”
“Wow. That’s very neighborly of you.” Rachel was getting cross now. “I’ll tell Roy not to bother with the rest of the boundary with your land that we’ve been ‘fixing’ for you for the last two years.”
“I didn’t ask anyone to do that.”
“No, but you didn’t have to, did you?” Rachel gave him her sweetest smile. “We just did it because we’re nice. Have a lovely day, won’t you?”
She stomped back the way she’d come. What a rude, ignorant slob! She had been about to apologize, but his grumpy attitude hadn’t exactly encouraged her. She supposed she should be glad that he hadn’t pulled a gun and shot her like in the good old days. As far as she knew, the ranch next door to the Morgans was not only empty, but up for sale, so who was the guy who’d claimed the land as his own? She hadn’t been at Morgan Ranch long enough to know everything going on, so she’d check in with Ruth, who was totally up on all the local gossip.
She sent a text to BB with the photos attached and warned him to be careful around the mine. After managing to mount the patient Petunia without a block or a boost, she put her phone away and made sure of her bearings before setting off back the way she’d come. Behind her, she heard the distant sound of a truck, and assumed it was the cowboy going off to make someone else’s day miserable.
The fence line wasn’t going to be a problem. The real issue was what was going on below the surface. The cracks carried through into the next ranch, and the mine workings probably did as well. She tried to imagine telling Cowboy Grumpy Ass that if he wasn’t careful his precious land might disappear beneath his feet.
Mind you, being there when that happened and watching him disappear in a cloud of dust did have some appeal.... Rachel grinned and clicked to her horse. She’d tell Chase about the condition of the mine when he came back and let him decide what he wanted to do next.
* * *
“Some dude told you to get off their land?” Blue repeated Rachel’s statement, his blue eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing as if he was looking for a handy weapon. “Who the hell was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.” Rachel sipped her iced tea. She was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by Morgans who were all finishing up dinner. “He wasn’t exactly being pleasant about it.”
BB half rose from his seat. “Well, we’ll see about that—”
“Sit.” Ruth hauled him down by the elbow. “Let Rachel finish the story.”
BB did as his grandma said, but he obviously wasn’t happy.
His daughter Maria shushed him with a reproving glance. “Be quiet, Dad. I want to hear what happened next.”
BB sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Go on, then, I’m all ears.”
“What did he look like?” Billy asked Rachel, his expression troubled.
“It was hard to tell. He was all bundled up in a big coat, and his hat shaded his face.” Rachel considered the image in her head. “He definitely wasn’t old, and his accent wasn’t from around here.” He’d had a slow drawl that reminded her of Texas.
“I wonder if it’s one of the Lymond boys?” Billy turned to Ruth. “There were two of them, right? Cauy and Jackson.”
Ruth nodded. “That’s right. They had a little sister called Amy. Amy moved to Florida with Anita when she left Mark, and the older boy went earlier when he was a teenager.”
“I thought Mark Lymond put the place up for sale?” BB asked. “Chase was all set to buy it, but his lawyer said no thanks.”
“Mark Lymond never liked us,” Billy reminisced. “He was always complaining about something. Sounds like his son is just the same.”
“Remember when Mark called out Jenna in front of the whole town?” Blue said. “He was afraid of a female vet doctoring his livestock, and tried to make out she wasn’t properly qualified.”
BB scowled at his father. He obviously wasn’t prepared to let the matter go, and knowing how protective he was of Jenna, Rachel wasn’t surprised. In fact, considering Blue’s military career it was amazing that Mark Lymond had survived speaking ill of BB’s fiancée at all....
“If the poor boy is stuck up there all by himself, no wonder he’s miserable.” Ruth put her mug down on the table. “Jean Turner goes over there every month to check the house is still standing, and she said it’s a bit of a dump. We’ll have to go and welcome him home.”
“Welcome him?” BB raised his eyebrows. “He was rude to Rachel, and his father sucked ass. I’m more inclined to go over there and tell him to keep a civil tongue in his head or he’ll have me to reckon with.”
“Which is why you’re not invited,” Ruth said firmly. She looked at Rachel. “How about you and I go up there this afternoon and give him a proper welcome home?”
“If you really think it’s a good idea.” Rachel made a face. “I’m not sure he’ll want to see me on his land again, but I definitely don’t want you going up there by yourself.”
“Which is why I should come with you,” BB interrupted again. “I’ll make sure he behaves himself.”
“I’ll come,” Billy said quietly. “I haven’t got anything to do this afternoon. If it is one of Mark’s sons, he might remember me.”
“Great.” Ruth stood up. “Now let me see what I have in the freezer. . . .” She disappeared off into the pantry still talking to herself.
BB leaned in toward Rachel and lowered his voice. “If he steps out of line, you let me know, okay?”
“Will do.” Rachel nodded. “But I think Ruth and Billy will handle it.”
She also rose to her feet and started clearing the plates. Going to see the grumpiest cowboy in the valley wasn’t her idea of a fun afternoon. Knowing Ruth and her low tolerance for bad manners, she suspected that if he stepped out of line he might not enjoy the encounter much either.
Chapter Three
Cauy stared glumly at the limp chicken sandwich sitting on his plate and wished he’d bought some chips to go with it. He was trying to eat healthier, but sometimes all he craved was a huge bag of barbecue chips to shove in his mouth. His fingers were aching from twisting wire to mend the boundary fence, and he wasn’t even a quarter of the way round the property. He had checked out the fence bordering Morgan Ranch and found it well maintained and secure.
Which meant he might owe the beautiful blonde an apology. He winced as he recalled her response to his territorial paranoia. She’d hardly been cattle rustling, just taking a picture of the downed fence, and he’d treated her like a terrorist. The thing was, he hadn’t expected to meet anyone out there, and she’d surprised him. He’d forgotten how to talk to people, and it showed....
Outside, the guard chooks started clucking, and he tensed as a vehicle swept into the yard. Had the woman set Nate Turner on him? Leaving his uneaten lunch on the table, he went to the back door, braced himself, and went out. The sight of a diminutive elderly lady being helped out of a huge blue pickup truck made him blink.
“Howdy, neighbor!”
He took an involuntary step back and collided with the door frame as she advanced toward him with a smile.
“Welcome home.” She searched his face. “It’s Cauy, isn’t it?”
He nodded like an idiot and helplessly held open the door as she swept past him.
> “Jean Turner told me you were coming back home, and I didn’t like to think of you up here all by yourself.”
Cauy opened his mouth and then closed it again as she kept talking. An older man with a lined face, graying hair, and very blue eyes came through the door and offered Cauy his free hand. His other arm was loaded with plastic boxes.
“Hi, I’m Billy Morgan.” He pointed at the woman and half smiled. “That’s Ruth Morgan. My mother. She’s something of a force of nature.”
Cauy shook his hand, as Ruth turned back to him.
“Is that your lunch?” She pointed at his limp chicken sandwich.
“Yes, ma’am.” He felt like he was five again.
She tutted and headed for the door. “That’s not going to keep you fed. Rachel? Bring that covered dish in first, the hot one, and then we can start on the rest.”
“I’m coming. Just getting something to protect my hands. This thing is hot!”
Cauy knew that voice....
The tall blonde he’d met that morning came through the door carrying a covered dish in a cloth. She slowed as she went past him, her vivid blue gaze meeting his with a distinct challenge.
“Hello again, neighbor.”
She was definitely a Morgan. And apparently, her name was Rachel. She looked young enough to be Ruth’s great-granddaughter, which meant that one of the Morgan brothers must have married young and started producing early.
Ruth took the dish from Rachel. “Thank you, darlin’. Now, why don’t you and Billy bring the rest of the stuff in while I have a nice visit with Cauy?”
Nice visit? Cauy’s stomach rumbled as the smell from the foil-wrapped dish reached him. This was not how he’d planned on meeting the Morgans again, not at all. He’d intended to find a local lawyer and meet them on neutral territory.
Ruth pulled out his chair and put the dish on the table. “Sit down, and eat up.”
Cauy thought about telling them all to get out, but the allure of a proper home-cooked meal and being treated like a human being was way too strong. He also had a suspicion that if he didn’t do what Ruth Morgan said she’d be on the phone with his mother, and then he’d really be in the shit. So much for his tough-guy image.
“I’ll make some fresh coffee,” Ruth called out to him. “You seem to have that, at least.”
He sat and uncovered the dish to find a large slice of chicken pie, mashed potatoes, and carrots. He swallowed hard. Was accepting food from his father’s sworn enemies a concession of defeat, or could he class it as keeping his enemies close?
His stomach clenched with longing and he gave in to the desire to eat. He picked up his fork and dug into the pie, almost moaning at the buttery pastry and creamy chicken sauce. At this point, he didn’t care if the food was poisoned, it tasted so good.
“Dessert.” Ruth Morgan placed another plate on the table along with a fresh cup of coffee and a glass of water. “Now, slow down, or you’ll give yourself colic.”
“Yes, ma’ am,” he managed to mutter before noticing the stewed apple and ice cream in the bowl beside him. Where had the ice cream come from? He was pretty sure there was nothing in his freezer.
By the time he’d cleared both his plates, Billy and Rachel Morgan were back in the kitchen and the door had been shut against the cold air. Cauy tried to make sense of all the boxes Ruth Morgan was emptying. Did she think he’d brought a small army with him?
He took his plates over to the sink and discovered he now had a new sponge and washcloth to go with the last of his dishwashing liquid. There was also a plastic bowl in the battered sink.
“I put the meals in the freezer.” Ruth came over to him, wiping her hands on a towel. “They are all marked with the contents, how to cook them, and an eat-by date. Do you have a microwave?”
“No.”
“We have an old one that used to be in Roy’s kitchen. I’ll get someone to bring it over for you.”
Cauy cleared his throat. “That’s very kind of you, but—”
“It’s no trouble. There’s no point you wasting money on something when you don’t have to, is there?” She patted his arm. “I put some cleaning supplies under the sink, and cans and dry goods in the pantry. There are a few essentials in the refrigerator as well. Do you like cooking?”
“Not really.”
“If you change your mind, come and see me, and I’ll sort out some proper pans for you.” Ruth looked at Billy. “Is there anything I’ve forgotten?”
“I don’t think so, Mom.”
“Good, so we can sit down and chat.” Ruth guided Cauy back to the table, her hand firmly on his elbow. “How is Anita doing these days?”
“She’s good.” Cauy kept a cautious eye on Rachel, who was perched on the arm of the chair, and Billy, who was leaning up against the wall next to her. “I’ll tell her I saw you.”
“Are Jackson and Amy going to stop by and visit you for Christmas?”
Cauy hadn’t even thought to ask them. “I don’t think so.”
Ruth frowned. “Then you’ll have to come to us. We can’t have you sitting here all by yourself on Christmas Day.”
Cauy wondered why not. It wouldn’t be the first Christmas he’d spent by himself, and probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Cauy might have plans of his own, Ruth,” Billy intervened, and winked at Cauy. “Don’t mind her, she just can’t bear to think that anyone might prefer to be alone during the holidays.”
Ruth raised her eyebrows. “I’m not asking him to move in with us, Billy. I’m just saying that if he wishes to join us for Christmas lunch he’s more than welcome.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Cauy finally remembered his manners and stood up. He had no intention of going anywhere, but his mom had brought him up right. Ruth Morgan wasn’t at all how he thought she’d be. His father had never had a good word to say about her, insisting she was a pushy woman who thought she ran the whole town.
From what Cauy could tell Mrs. Morgan had been born into the role, which would have infuriated his father, who had a low opinion of women generally.
He went over to the back door and grabbed the handle like a lifeline. “It was nice of you to come all the way out here. I appreciate it.”
“It was no trouble at all.” Ruth Morgan looked at him, and then at her family. “Billy, give Cauy that card with all our cell phone numbers on it. Roy, our foreman, will be coming up this week to see if he can help you out with anything.”
Cauy opened the door. “There’s no need for him to put himself out.”
Ruth sighed and rose from the table. “Stubborn as your father, I see.”
“My father—” Cauy couldn’t think how to finish that sentence without saying something rude about the Morgans and, despite everything, he knew Ruth Morgan had come with the best of intentions. Rachel and Billy were now looking at him like he was some kind of worm.
“Come along, Mom.” Billy wrapped his arm around Ruth’s shoulders. “Cauy’s probably got things to do.”
Cauy waited until they came alongside him, and cleared his throat.
“I do appreciate you coming by, Mrs. Morgan.”
She smiled at him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I’ve known your family for seventy years, and we always helped each other out in times of need. Just call if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
Billy nodded to him as he went through the door. Cauy let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and then found himself face-to-face with Rachel, who didn’t look any happier to see him now than she had earlier.
“Nice to see you are an ass to everyone you meet, and not just me,” Rachel said. “What did my grandma ever do to you?”
“Your grandma?” Cauy asked before he even thought it through.
“Yes.” She frowned. “Billy’s my dad.”
“That can’t be right.” Cauy slowly shook his head. “He had four sons. We went to the same school.”
Rachel raised her chin. She w
as tall for a woman, and easily met his gaze. “You’re saying I can’t be a Morgan?”
“I’m saying . . .” Cauy stopped mid-sentence as some long-forgotten memory stirred deep in his head. “You’re the baby that disappeared?”
“Got it in one, which still has nothing to do with how you just treated my grandmother,” Rachel said.
Cauy was still trying to get his head around who Rachel was. “Everyone thought you and your mom had died. My dad thought—” He abruptly shut up when he remembered that his father believed Billy Morgan had murdered his own wife and child and had taken some unholy glee in the notion.
“Rachel?” Speak of the devil. Billy had come back to see where his daughter was. Seeing them next to each other there was no denying they were related. Billy looked way too kind to ever hurt a fly. “You coming?”
“Yes, sorry.”
Rachel smiled apologetically at her father, and Cauy almost swallowed his tongue. He’d never seen her smile before, and the beauty of it hit him low in the gut. If she was Billy’s daughter, she wasn’t as young as she looked, which made him feel slightly better about appreciating her charms.
Billy turned to Cauy, his smile wry. “Ruth can be a little . . . managing. But she means well.”
“I’m very grateful to her for coming,” Cauy reiterated.
“Well, you know where we are if you need anything.” Billy nodded. “Have a great day, son.”
“Thanks.”
Rachel walked away with her father, and Cauy watched them leave before closing the door and locking it. He felt like he’d had an early visit from the Christmas fairy—not that Rachel Morgan would appreciate being called that. Hopefully, they’d realize that he didn’t need their help and keep away.
He sat back at the table and rubbed his hands over his stubbled jaw. He’d been polite, hadn’t he? He’d let the Morgans into his house and said thank you for everything Ruth had done for him. So why did he still feel like a heel? It wasn’t as if he cared what they thought of him. For a brief moment, he’d remembered what it felt like to be part of a happy family who wanted to see you and welcomed you home. He hadn’t expected that from the Morgans, whom his father had ended up hating....