His father frowned and dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” Cory said, but words could never encompass the feelings that welled up inside him when he remembered his mother’s passing.
“What took her?”
“Breast cancer.” Cory sat down on a chair and turned it to face his father. He hadn’t decided how much he wanted to tell this virtual stranger about his time with his mother, but he had some questions of his own that he’d been waiting a lifetime to ask. He cleared his throat. “I know you don’t want any kind of relationship with me, and that’s fine, but I had a few things I wanted to ask you.”
“Fair enough,” his father replied.
“When did you meet my mother?” Cory asked.
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
Irritation plucked at his practiced calm. “Why not?”
He was met with a chilly silence. Eloise shifted in her seat, and Cory glanced toward her to find her green eyes full of compassion. Her pink lips parted, and he was struck anew by her unaffected beauty. Cory pulled his gaze away from her and tapped his hat against his thigh.
A smile flickered at the corners of the old man’s lips. “Are you married, boy?”
Cory shook his head.
“Then I can’t expect you to understand.”
“Were you married when you met my mother?”
Another silence, but it seemed to answer his question.
“And you chose your wife over my mother?”
His father gave a weak shrug. “Someone had to be hurt, young man. Either your mother or my wife. I chose to protect my wife.”
It explained a lot. Cory’s mother had never told him much about the relationship she shared with his father, only that it was a short fling and that it hadn’t lasted after she told him she was pregnant. He let his gaze move over the walls of the little sitting room, and he spotted a few faded pictures of a woman with a 1960s’ hairstyle at various ages. She had a bright smile and a slim figure.
“Is that your wife?” he asked, nodding at the picture.
“Never mind Ruth,” the old man snapped. “She isn’t your business.”
That was true, Cory knew. He wasn’t even sure what to ask the old man now. He’d had a million questions over the years, but now as he faced his father, he couldn’t seem to pull them out of the tangle of his emotions. One thought shot through the murky mess in his mind: I’m the child of an affair.
The thought had occurred to him in the past but had never been verified. Cory had preferred to believe that his mother had met a man and the relationship had simply gone sour, not that she’d been the other woman in someone else’s marriage.
“I guess that’s it.” Cory shrugged, shoving away his disappointment. He’d driven for two hours, at the worst possible time to leave the ranch, just to meet his father. He hadn’t expected tears and hugs exactly, but he’d hoped for something—some sort of connection that would identify them as father and son. So far, he’d met with only cold disdain. “There’s a lot I want to know, but you don’t seem willing to talk. I’m not going to beg. Is there anything you want to know about me?”
The old man shook his head. “No.”
“All right, then.” Cory rose and tapped his hat against his palm. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected, and while he didn’t want to simply walk away from his father, he had the undeniable urge to be by himself. If he were back at the ranch, he’d get on his horse and ride, but here his options were limited. He searched the old man’s lined face once more for some sign of softness but found nothing. “Thank you for your time.”
Eloise sprang to her feet, but when he looked in her direction, annoyance flashed in her green eyes. She planted her hands on her slim hips and darted a look between the two men.
“That’s it?” she demanded.
Both men looked at her mutely. Cory wasn’t sure what she expected him to do.
“This is how you want to leave it?” She pulled the curls out of her eyes and shook her head. “Sit down.”
Cory stared down at the petite woman in surprise. She raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, and he briefly considered turning his back on her, but he discarded the thought almost immediately. He sank back into his seat.
“After all these years, you can’t just leave things like this.”
“Sure we can,” his father countered. “We’ve met. We’ve talked. We’re done.”
Eloise pointedly ignored the old man’s retort and turned her bright gaze onto Cory. “Now, Cory, what do you do for a living?”
“I own a ranch.”
“See, Mr. Bessler? That’s an interesting career, isn’t it?” She pulled up a chair and sat on the edge. “And what drew you to that line of work?”
“I grew up on that ranch. I inherited it.”
“Does Mr. Bessler have any grandchildren?” she pressed.
“No, never married. I don’t have any kids.”
His father shifted uncomfortably. “What do you think you’re doing?” the old man asked angrily, putting a hand on Eloise’s arm.
She patted his hand. “You want to know about your son, Mr. Bessler. You’re just too stubborn to admit it. You’ll regret it if you just let him walk out that door.”
The old man settled back into his chair glumly.
“Did you always know you wanted to work a ranch?” Eloise asked, her voice low and encouraging. She gave him an eager look, and Cory couldn’t find it in himself to disappoint her. He heaved a sigh.
“Pretty much. We used to visit my grandfather on his ranch every summer. I loved the horses. I was riding before I could walk.”
A smile flickered at the corners of her lips. “What about your childhood? What was it like?”
“I survived.” Cory’s mind went back to the years with his single mother. “We weren’t rich, but my mother always found a way to stretch a penny. She was a strong woman.”
“Did you miss your father?”
Cory had missed his father every day of his life. His mother had done an admirable job of raising him, but not a day went by that Cory hadn’t wondered about his dad. He didn’t dare mention his unquenchable curiosity with his mother, though. The few times he’d asked questions about his father, she avoided answering him, and her eyes filled with pain. No boy wanted to hurt his mother. So he wondered silently if his father ever thought about him. He didn’t want to share that right now, though. Not with an old man who cared so little about his existence.
The old man heaved a guttural cough. Eloise looked in his direction for a moment, then turned her attention back to Cory. “Did you know about your father when you were young?”
“I didn’t know much. My mother told me I wasn’t to bother about him.”
“Did you ever want to contact him?” she inquired.
Cory used to lie in bed at night as a boy, painting mental pictures of some sort of superman who would swoop into his life with a terrific excuse for his lengthy absence. He smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Fathers always matter,” she replied.
The old man sat limply in his wheelchair, sunken eyes regarding him with trepidation. Cory smiled his thanks to the pretty nurse and met the old man’s wary gaze.
“Did you ever think about me?” he asked.
His father was silent.
“Did you know when I was born?”
“Your mother sent me a card. At the office. You were born February twelfth.”
“So you knew you had a son.”
He nodded. “I knew.” He licked his dry lips with a pasty tongue. “Of course I thought about you. You can’t just forget something like that.”
“But you never contacted me.”
His father shook his head. “It was for the best.”
For the best. Cory dropped his gaze. How it could possibly be in his best interest, he couldn’t tell. Unless the old man was referring to his own interests.
“You didn’t pay any child support, either,” he pointed out. “My mother could have used the extra money.”
“And you want that money now?” the old man asked.
“I’m not asking for anything from you.” Cory squeezed his hat between his hands, anger rising like a salve to cover that old aching wound inside of him. “I’m the sole owner of a large chunk of property, and I can assure you that I’m not sniffing around for cash.”
His father’s shoulders slumped and he leaned back in his chair with a wheeze. His lids drooped. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m tired.”
The old man didn’t seem to be addressing anyone in particular, but Eloise rose from her seat and bent down next to him.
“Would you like to go back to bed?” she asked quietly.
“No, I want to just sit there in the sun.”
She released the locks on his wheels and eased his chair toward a pool of sunlight by a window. She bent and spoke to him in low tones. Cory stood and moved toward the door, watching the young woman as she conversed with his father. Her expression remained respectful, and after a few moments, she pulled a blanket over his knees and came back to the door where Cory waited for her.
“He doesn’t have a lot of strength left,” she explained softly.
“I doubt he’d have responded much differently if he were well,” Cory replied.
She shrugged. “Maybe not. I’m sorry about all this.”
Cory opened the front door. “Care to walk me out, ma’am?”
She chuckled at his formality.
“Mr. Bessler, I’ll be back in just a moment,” she said and stepped outside.
Once in the warm summer sunlight, Cory inhaled the fresh air in relief. Inside the house smelled of sickness and medicine, and as he stepped out, he longed to get back to the wide-open spaces of pasture and farmland—back to his more immediate problem of a medic who quit without notice, leaving the ranch without any medical care. He turned his attention to the petite nurse.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You risked a lot to make that happen.”
She arched her eyebrows at him quizzically. “I did?”
“Your job.”
“Oh, that.” Color rose in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Cory. I’ve still got a job. He and I have a bit of a complicated relationship, but it works.”
“That’s a relief.” He shot her a wry grin. “I don’t like to see a lady treated that way.”
“He’s dying.” She paused, silent for a moment. “He’s scared.”
“You still made a conversation with him possible,” he said. “I’m grateful.”
“You’re very welcome. Are you coming back?”
“I can’t stay.” His mind flooded with things he had to do. He’d driven out to Haggerston at the worst time possible.
Eloise blinked in surprise. “That’s too bad. I’d hoped you two might have more time together.”
“We’re calving.” He expected those words to suffice, but she didn’t react with the knowing nod he expected.
“Oh.” The look on her face told him she didn’t understand.
“It’s busy,” he explained. “Calving is delicate—sometimes the cows need help, sometimes not.” He waved it off. “Suffice it to say, I can’t leave that kind of work to my partner. It’s twenty-four-hour mayhem for the next little while. Not to mention, our medic quit just before I left. I have to get back.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Eloise gave him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for making the trip, even for a short stay.”
A short conversation didn’t even begin to answer all the questions he’d been storing up, but he couldn’t stay longer. Maybe if his father weren’t dying he wouldn’t have felt the urgency, but it was now or never.
“I...uh—” Cory cleared his throat. “I know my father probably won’t agree to this, but I thought I might invite the two of you to come back with me for a couple of weeks.”
“To the ranch?”
“I own about eight hundred acres in Blaine County—Milk River runs right through it. It’s the best that Montana has to offer.” He slapped his hat against his leg, searching for the right words. “I really want to get to know my father better, and I still have all these questions. I mean, not that I could remember them in there.” He looked away for a moment, toward the ill-kept yard. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like more time with my father, but I can’t stay away from the ranch any longer. If you’d come back with me, maybe that could still happen. Besides, you know him better than I do. You can get him to talk where I can’t.”
Cory also wanted a chance to get to know this pretty nurse a little better, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. Eloise regarded him with a thoughtful gaze.
“I feel responsible for how this turned out.” She blushed. “This is all pretty much my fault, you know.”
“Oh, absolutely.” He shot her a wry grin. “But in the best way possible, of course.”
She laughed softly. “I can ask if he’d be willing to visit—”
Cory’s phone blipped and he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced down at a text from his partner. He clenched his teeth in frustration.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Another injury. One of the cowboys got his arm caught in the bridle of a spooked horse. They’ll have to take him to the next ranch over to get treated by their medic—”
“Does this sort of thing happen often?” Eloise asked, frowning.
“You wouldn’t...” He paused, uncertain if he should even voice the idea. “Look, I know this is a bit forward, but if you and my father came to the ranch for a visit, would you consider a little extra work?”
“Replacing your medic?” she asked.
“For a couple of weeks, until we can hire someone. I’d be eternally grateful on both counts, if you’re interested.”
“I’ll have to talk to your father and his doctor first, of course. If they agree, I’d be happy to lend a hand. You sound like you’re in a bind.”
He nodded. “Let me know. I’ll have to head back tomorrow.”
Cory dropped his hat onto his head and looked back at the house. Robert Bessler was nothing like what he’d expected, yet the chance to understand the miserable old man snagged at that boyhood longing.
Not to mention Eloise. She was beautiful, brave, confident—and the only person who actually knew his elderly father right now, and he had a feeling that her insights would be invaluable.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” she promised and offered a smile. “It was really nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He held out his hand and took her slender hand in his. “Take care.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, reluctantly releasing her. She fluttered her fingers in a wave and turned back toward the door. As he trotted down the steps and strode to his pickup truck, Cory sighed.
Lord, he prayed silently, I hope this isn’t a mistake.
Chapter Two
The rest of the day, Cory shopped for items needed at the ranch. He bought two massive bags of dry dog food, about ten packs of socks for the ranch hands and a few cases of canned food. A trip into town couldn’t be wasted. By late afternoon, with errands completed, he found himself in a produce store, staring at the seasonal fruit.
He hoped that Eloise would take him up on his offer and come with his father out to the ranch. As much as he wanted time with his dad, though, his mind kept moving back to the pretty redhead. He found himself wondering about her as a woman. What did she do when she wasn’t working? Did she have anyone special in her life rig
ht now? He hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, but then that wasn’t the surefire signal it used to be.
Cory chose several peaches from a pyramid of fragrant clingstones and dropped them into a bag. He fumbled with the bag as he tied it shut, then moved on to the next bin—plums.
Lord, this visit to see my dad didn’t turn out the way I expected. I thought he’d care more, somehow. But you know him, Father. Open doors here. We don’t have a lot of time.
As he headed to the counter to pay, a flash of red curls caught his eye, and he turned in surprise. Eloise shot him a smile.
“Hi, stranger,” she said. She still wore the same jeans from earlier, her embroidered top revealing the barest hint of her collarbone.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
She hoisted a bag of apples. “I’m making a pie tonight after the house cools off.”
“Sounds good.” Cory put his purchases on the counter and nodded to hers. “My treat.”
Eloise smiled shyly and she put her bag down with his while he paid. The cashier’s bracelets jangled as she weighed the fruit. She gave Cory his change and he and Eloise moved toward the door together.
“The doctor gave us the go-ahead to come to your ranch,” Eloise said. “If there is anything your father wants to do, this is the time to do it.”
“That’s great.” Cory inwardly winced. That came out wrong. There didn’t seem to be any right way to say things when it included someone facing death. Eloise didn’t seem to notice.
“Mr. Bessler hasn’t made his decision yet...” She gave him a sympathetic smile.
“I do have to head back tomorrow.”
“I’ll talk to him when I get back and give you a call.”
“Does that mean he’s alone right now?” he asked.
“No, an agency sends hospice volunteers to spend time with him. It gives me some time to myself.”
The door to the grocery store shut behind them and they stepped into the glare of the afternoon sun. The scent of petunias from hanging planters mingled comfortably with the warm summer air. Shops on Main Street had kept their doors propped open and a local talk-radio show filtered out from the open door of a stationery shop, the DJ chatting away about Meagher County weather and an upcoming heat wave. Montana would serve up a hot, satisfying summer.
The Rancher's City Girl Page 2