A Family to Come Home To (Saddle Falls)

by De Vita, Sharon

  “Jesse, look, I can understand how difficult this must be for you—” His chuckle caught her by surprise and she glanced up at him. “What? What’s so funny?” Annoyance tinged her tone and he slowly shook his head again.

  “Trust me, darlin’, there is no way anyone could have a clue how difficult all this is. You grow up believing you’re one person, and then one day you’re supposed to accept that you’re another person, with a whole different family history…” His voice trailed off. “And you think you know how difficult this is? There’s no way anyone could understand what I’m feeling because, to tell you the truth, darlin’, I sure as hell don’t understand it myself.”

  The impact of his words had Hannah rethinking what she was going to say. “Jesse, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just, Tommy has spent twenty years looking for you, grieving for you, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  Jesse nodded. “I understand that, Hannah, and I’m not here to hurt the man. Truly.” He shrugged. “But you’ve got to understand, it wasn’t me he was grieving for, it was the boy who was his grandson, a little boy named Jesse who disappeared twenty years ago. And from the moment he disappeared, that boy was gone. He became someone else. Grew up to be someone else. That someone else is me, Hannah, Jesse Garland. Try as I might, I can’t change the past nor can I change who and what I am.”

  “Jesse, please, just promise me you won’t hurt him.” The pleading in her eyes tugged at something deep inside Jesse and made him reach out and gently lay his hand against her cheek.

  “Darlin’, I wish I could promise that, I truly do,” he said quietly, his gaze firmly on hers. “But I’m not a man who makes a promise he isn’t certain he can keep.”

  Her eyes flashed like the fires of hell and her fists balled at her hips. “Jesse, I’m warning you, watch your step. I’ll not stand by and watch you deliberately hurt Tommy.” She took another step closer, her eyes gleaming with intensity. “I mean it.”

  He merely stared at her, surprised by the depth of her fierceness, the loyalty and love he saw shimmering off her in waves. He admired a woman who knew the value of loyalty and honesty, as well as a woman who could love that deeply, freely, intensely.

  Unconsciously, he glanced at her hands, saw they were ringless and wondered about Riley’s father. Again. This was a woman who wouldn’t take love, loyalty or honesty lightly. For some reason he found it warmed something within his scarred heart.

  After his mother’s deception, he’d feared that all women were dishonest about love, loyalty and family. Hell, if he hadn’t been able to trust his own mother, how could he ever trust any other woman?

  Maybe this woman was a woman worth trusting.

  It was a shame he wasn’t going to be around long enough to find out.

  “Well then, Hannah,” he said softly, never taking his gaze off hers as he settled his Stetson more comfortably on his head. “I guess I’ll consider myself properly warned.”

  Chapter Three

  Tommy Ryan was nervous.

  He hadn’t paced this much since the impending birth of his last great-grandchild, but then again, he thought as he paused on the front porch and cocked his head to see if he’d heard a car, it wasn’t every day a man was reunited with a grandson missing for twenty years.

  With a sigh of impatience, Tommy shook his head as he continued to pace the long front porch of the main ranch house he’d built nearly fifty years ago. He’d waited twenty years for this day; he supposed he could wait a bit longer. But it was hard, he realized with a self-indulgent chuckle. Very hard. He felt like one of the little lads waiting for Christmas morning to come.

  Lifting his head, he glanced around at all that was his and he couldn’t help but smile, a smile of pride and accomplishment.

  He’d arrived in this country from Ireland with little more than the clothes on his back and a fierce determination to build something of his own. An empire, of course, but more importantly, a family.

  A man’s wealth and his true worth would always be his family, he thought, glancing at the empty road again and resisting the urge to sigh impatiently.

  He’d accomplished everything he’d ever dreamed of, needed. He had more wealth than any man had a want for, and more possessions than any one man could crave, but through it all, he’d lost one of the most important parts of his life: his youngest grandson, Jesse.

  Cursing his bad hip, Tommy leaned on his wood-carved cane as he lowered himself into one of the rockers his grandson Jared had carved with his own hands for his wife to rock their babes.

  In spite of a bad hip, at eighty, Tommy still had the large, powerful build of the boxer he had once been, a build that had intimidated more than its fair share of stout men over the years.

  Age and infirmity had not stooped his frame, but merely slowly his gait. His hair, which had been a thick mane of coal in his youth, was now a thick shock of white framing his face like an elegant halo. His skin was a rich, deep tan, lined with the experience and memories of his long life.

  His mouth was full and firm and more often than not curved into a grin, as if he had a secret he wasn’t quite ready to share with the world yet. His blue eyes, the color of the deepest sapphires, still twinkled with mischief most of the time, giving him the appearance of a slightly oversize leprechaun.

  There was an air of power and authority radiating from him, the kind that only very successful men possess.

  He was a man who’d been blessed with more luck than any man deserved, more money then he could ever hope to spend and a family he adored more than life itself.

  But interspersed in the joys of his life had been sorrow. A deep, aching sorrow that no amount of joy could erase.

  But today, finally, the ache in his heart would heal, and he and his beloved grandson would be reunited. He’d sent everyone else off for the day, wanting some time alone with the lad, and hoping to ease the way for Jesse so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

  “You’re finally coming home, lad,” Tommy whispered to himself, vowing not to let free the tears he’d held so long in his heart. “I’ve waited so long for this day, my boy, so long. It’s a dream come true.” Sniffling, Tommy pulled a large pressed handkerchief from his pocket—just in case—and dabbed briskly at his nose. “You’ll not be dripping tears like a spoiled babe in front of the lad, Tommy boy,” he scolded himself. “’Tis a day for laughter not tears. Aye, it’s a day for the angels to sing and to rejoice.” Tommy paused a moment to wipe his eyes, which were damp with memories and emotion.

  Oh how he wished his only son, Jock, was still alive to see this day. To know that his youngest had finally come home. Jock had died without ever knowing the fate of his youngest son. It was a heartache Jock had never gotten over, and a heartache Tommy had been forced to live with; a pain that had never eased.

  Tommy glanced heavenward. The sky was a clear crystal-blue, and he was fairly certain if he stared long and hard enough, he might be able to see the angels rejoicing. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “Aye, Jock, my boy, you can finally rest easy now,” he whispered to the heavens. “I told you I’d not rest nor meet my maker until I found the lad.” Tommy thumped his cane and nodded his head. “Aye, your Da never made a promise he couldn’t keep. A wise man doesn’t. It took me a good long time, but I’ve kept my promise to you, Jock, and to myself.” Tommy had to pause to swipe at his eyes again. “Our boy Jesse, we’ve found him, Jock. He’s coming home.”

  The sound of a car coming down the hill had Tommy leaning on his cane to stand and stare. His heart began to thud loudly and he found it difficult to take a breath. Shading his eyes with his hand, Tommy’s heart did a slow drumbeat as he watched a large black truck approach, and finally pull slowly into the long winding driveway. With the sun in his eyes, he couldn’t really see the driver.

  Until he got out.

  Then everything inside Tommy Ryan seemed to still as he looked at one of his own.

  He stood immobilized on the front po
rch, clutching his cane with one strong hand, then laid his other hand to his heart as he watched the young man step slowly, hesitantly, out of the truck.

  There was no mistaking this lad. He had his father’s great height, and was clearly the tallest of all four of Jock’s sons. He possessed Tommy’s own twinkling blue eyes, eyes the same color as the Irish Sea shortly after a storm. But most importantly, he had his brothers’ features. All of his brothers, mixed together in a face that was undeniably a Ryan.

  The young man started walking up the driveway, then paused. “Tommy Ryan?” The voice was deep, husky with suppressed emotion and still familiar to Tommy, in spite of the Texas twang and seemed to reverberate in the air between them, closing the distance. The young lad’s voice had the same deep resonance of his brothers’. Tommy wanted to kick up his heels in glee.

  “My God,” Tommy whispered, pressing his hand tighter against his chest, as if to ease the ache in his heart. “Jesse. ’Tis you.” It could have been a hundred years since he’d last seen the lad, but he’d recognize him anywhere; it was like recognizing his own soul. His own kin.

  Joy bubbled within him like champagne and Tommy fervently wished for a good hip, for he’d have done an Irish jig right there on the front porch, a jig to make the Ryan clan proud.

  It was Jesse; his Jesse.

  Standing on Ryan land once again.

  As it should be; as it was meant to be.

  “Aye, Jock,” Tommy whispered with a smile and a slow shake of his head as he glanced heavenward for a brief moment. “He’s come home.”

  With a silent, heartfelt prayer of thanks, Tommy let his breath out slowly, and with it all the fear, loneliness, guilt and pain he’d held inside for twenty long years.

  Then the tears he’d banished came, unbidden, as if flushing away the lonely years and the unbearable fears, and Tommy could do nothing to stop them or the memories that washed over him like a warm, welcome wave.

  Tommy closed his eyes for a moment, and then he opened them to watch the young lad walk across the expansive front yard toward him. Time seemed to still, then reel backward until Tommy saw not the grownup adult version of his beloved grandson approaching him, but the little lad as he’d been the last time he’d seen him twenty years ago.

  Tommy remembered he’d been coming around the front of the house from doing one chore or another late that afternoon when he’d heard the lad’s happy squeals.

  “Gwanpop.” Jesse’s laughter always brought a smile as the little lad scrambled across the front lawn on chubby legs that were not quite steady, racing from one misadventure to another. “Gwanpop, save me,” he’d plead, trying to contain his bubbling laughter.

  “Come here, lad,” Tommy would call, arms outstretched and a twinkle in his eye. Jesse would race to a stop, throw his chubby little arms up so his grandfather could lift him high in the air and out of harm’s way.

  “They’re gonna get me.” Jesse would giggle, snuggling closer to the safety and security of his grandfather’s arms. “Save me, Gwanpop. Save me!”

  They were his older brothers, Jesse’s consorts in crime, but aye, Jesse always knew where to go for reinforcements, always knew that his grandfather would rescue him, save him, protect him.

  Except for that one night when even his grandfather couldn’t save him.

  Tommy’s eyes opened and he blinked away his tears, blinking himself back to the present. Dear God, the nightmare was finally, blissfully, over.

  With legs not quite steady, Tommy slowly started down the porch stairs, leaning heavily on his cane, never taking his eyes off the lad, fearing he might disappear in a puff of smoke.

  Jesse watched Tommy approach, his heart pounding in a way that had nerves skimming just across his skin. He hadn’t remembered his grandfather, hadn’t remembered the ranch, his brothers, hadn’t remembered anything.

  At least not consciously.

  Until his gaze met Tommy’s.

  The moment he’d stepped out of the rented SUV and seen Tommy Ryan standing on the porch, shadowed by the late-afternoon sun, silhouetted by the beautiful blue sky, Jesse knew in his heart—the only place it truly mattered—this was his grandfather.

  His heart recognized him even if his mind or memory didn’t. Jesse felt another chill race over him, followed quickly by a shiver that had him clenching his fists tightly.

  Something deep inside him, in that place where there had always been this mysterious ache of longing and yearning, slowly seemed to fill.

  He could only remember crying once in his life, when his mother passed on, but now he felt the quick burn of tears against his eyes, dampening his lashes. Jesse had to swallow, then clear his throat to speak.

  “Grandpop.”

  That one precious, welcoming word had the strength and energy draining from Tommy, had him blinking in joy, leaving his heart racing, his knees shaky.

  “Aye, lad, ’tis me, Grandpop.” Tommy’s legs were so shaky he feared they wouldn’t hold him up. He reached out his free hand toward Jesse, and for the first time in memory truly felt his age. His hand, gnarled now with age and arthritis, shook like a sapling in a storm.

  “Jesse.” His grandson’s name came out a hoarse, broken sob as Tommy’s knees buckled and he almost went down. Strong arms reached for him in much the same way he had once reached for, rescued and protected the young lad.

  “Grandpop.” Alarmed, Jesse caught his grandfather and held him in his arms. “I’m here, Grandpop. It’s okay, I’m here.” Jesse simply held his grandfather, letting his eyes close and letting the emotions he’d tried to ignore all these months roll over him in a wave of love, loss and longing.

  Shaken to the core, Tommy clung to his grandson. The lad’s arms were strong and muscled, he thought proudly, letting his eyes close again. He just needed a minute, he told himself. Only a minute.

  Tommy took a slow, deep breath to calm himself and the storm of memories and emotions marching wildly through him, shaking him to the core. His life in all its glory passed swiftly through his mind, and he knew in his heart of hearts this would be the crowning moment, the jewel of the joy in his wonderfully blessed life.

  No man could ever want or need more.

  Tilting his head back, Tommy’s eyes opened and he looked into the blue eyes of his beloved grandson, unashamed of the tears that coursed down his cheeks.

  “Aye, lad, how I’ve missed you.” Tommy continued to cling to the lad’s strength, needing to actually touch Jesse, to feel him, to know he was real. This moment was real and not just another dream where he’d awake disappointed and heartsick. Tommy wanted to savor every single second of this and bury it in his heart forever.

  “I know, Grandpop.” Jesse blinked back his own tears and held on to his grandfather tighter, not wanting to let him go just yet, feeling the enormous surge of love flowing from Tommy to him, leaving him awash in feelings so strong he wasn’t certain his own legs would hold.

  Lifting his head, Jesse let his gaze absorb his surroundings. They seemed achingly familiar, yet evoked no distinct memories.

  At the moment he didn’t need the actual memories. He had the feelings, and for now that was more than enough. Taking a deep breath, Jesse looked back down at his grandfather.

  “Welcome home, lad,” Tommy said with a brilliant smile that shimmered through tears. “Welcome home.”

  “Mama, why are you peeking out the window?” Riley asked, giving her grape Popsicle another lick, trying to catch a drip before it splattered on her top as she stood behind her mother in Tommy’s kitchen.

  Startled, Hannah gave a little shriek. The wooden spoon covered with remnants of the chocolate mousse she’d been making for the celebratory dinner this evening went flying, splattering bits of gooey chocolate all over the counter, the floor and a part of the wall.

  “Riley.” Whirling on her daughter, Hannah pressed a hand to her rampaging heart. “You scared the life out of me.”

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Riley said, taking another lick
of her Popsicle. “But why were you peeking out the window?” Riley frowned. “You always said it wasn’t polite to spy on people.” Wide-eyed, Riley glanced up at her mother, intrigued. “Were you spying, Mama?” she asked, her eyes full of glee.

  Hannah’s face flamed beet red and she felt a hot flush wash over her face when she realized she’d been caught red-handed by her own daughter spying on Jesse Ryan!

  Good Lord, what in the world had come over her? She was certain she’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Fine example she was setting for her little girl!

  Blowing out a breath, Hannah shoved a loose pin back in her topknot and tried to figure out how to answer her daughter—honestly.

  “Well…yes, and no, honey,” Hannah said hesitantly, grabbing a paper towel and going down to eye level with Riley to wipe off her grape mustache. “I really wasn’t…spying. I was…watching Uncle Jesse and Uncle Tommy. But I wasn’t…spying. Definitely not spying, Riley.” She forced a weak smile. “That wouldn’t be polite, right?”

  “Right, Mama,” Riley said with a grin.

  The outright lie had Hannah’s face flaming again. She had been spying on Jesse and Tommy since she and Riley had arrived at Tommy’s house over an hour ago.

  She hadn’t seen or talked to Jesse or Tommy since she’d arrived; they’d been out walking around the ranch, talking, and she was nearly frantic, desperate to know how Jesse had handled the situation with Tommy, and more importantly, what he’d said to him.

  Her heart was trembling with worry that Jesse might have hurt Tommy. And she couldn’t deny that she was also concerned about Jesse and how the reunion with his grandfather had affected him.

  She’d almost danced in relief when she caught sight of the two of them, arm in arm, walking back toward the large patio right outside the kitchen window. The window was closed, so she couldn’t hear what they were saying, but at least she could see them now, sitting at the table, heads bent in quiet talk, or occasional laughter.