For the past five years she’d often thought of Gramps, as she’d called him, and had wanted to get in touch with him. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want Dean to know where she was or the secret she had hidden from him. Now it was too late for his grandfather to know that he’d left behind a great-granddaughter.
Through the years she’d told herself that by hiding her child from Dean she was protecting Maggie from the horror of having an alcoholic father. In the last days of their marriage, it had been agony for her trying to cope with his constant drinking, his drunken hallucinations and the uncaring attitude about everything in his life. The final decision to leave had come when she’d awakened one night to find him thrashing about in bed from one of his nightmares. When she touched him, he’d attacked her and nearly choked the life from her before she managed to escape.
He’d been repentant the next morning and vowed it would never happen again, but she knew it was a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. In her heart she realized that she couldn’t subject the baby she’d just found out she was carrying to a life like that, and she’d left that day. Knowing she had kept Maggie safe had helped to push away the guilt she felt for never telling Dean about his daughter.
Now that she’d seen him again, Gwen couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right decision by keeping Maggie from Dean and his grandfather. Dean seemed so different, so much closer to the man she’d first fallen in love with, rather than the man who’d frightened her into running away. He’d been sober for four years—four years that Maggie could have had a loving daddy. Gwen shook the thought from her head. What was done couldn’t be changed, and there was no need to dwell on it.
The door to the exam room opened, and Dean stepped into the hall. He stopped and stared at her for a moment before he took a hesitant step. She rose as he came toward her. “Are you all right?” she asked.
He nodded. “As much as I can be after seeing the only family I have left lying on a table in the medical examiner’s office.”
Tears filled her eyes at the pain she saw in his, and her lips quivered. “Ever since I’ve been here, I half hoped I’d run into him somewhere. I knew he still lived in the same place, but I didn’t think he’d want to see me.”
“He always loved you, Gwen. In fact, he told me not too long ago that he still prayed for you every day. He said he might not know where you were but that God did, and he prayed that you were safe and happy.”
“He was a good man.” A tear rolled down her face, and she wiped at it. “I know you’ll miss him so much.”
Dean nodded, and they sat on the bench where she’d waited. He propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. He stared down at the floor and shook his head. “I wish you could have seen him at breakfast this morning, Gwen. He had on the Western shirt that was his favorite, and he was so excited about the new colt that had been born last night. Now his lifeless body is in the next room on an exam table.”
Gwen closed her eyes for a moment and remembered how scared she’d been when she’d looked down and seen a masked man dumping a body in the river. Now that she knew who it was she was even more troubled. “Dean, evidently the man who tried to kill me is the same one who killed your grandfather. Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against him or you?”
Dean swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke. “I can’t think of anybody. I’ve lived a quiet life since I came back home, and everybody loved my grandfather. He was such a good man, the best I’ve ever known. He and my grandmother took me in when my parents were killed, as you know. Then after Grandma died he raised me all by himself. The proudest I’ve ever seen him was when I graduated from college. No one in our family had ever done that. Then when I became a police officer, he couldn’t brag enough about me to his friends.”
Gwen smiled. “I remember. When he’d come visit us, all he wanted to talk about were the cases you were working on.”
A slow smiled pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah, he kept up with all my cases, even followed the trials I had to testify in. He was always there to support me when things didn’t go so well.” His face suddenly darkened, and Gwen knew what he was thinking.
“You mean like the Trip King case?” she asked.
Dean exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah. That was one that troubled me more than any of the others.”
“Does it still keep you awake at night?”
“Sometimes. I regret how I spiraled into alcoholism after that case.” He darted a quick glance at her. “And how it ultimately cost me my marriage. I couldn’t have gotten through that time if it hadn’t been for Granddad.”
She squeezed Dean’s hands, then released them. “He did all that because he loved you. Now you need to focus on helping Ben find out who killed him.”
“And who tried to kill you, too.”
She nodded. “Yes. So concentrate on that. Now tell me what the sheriff said. Does he have any clues to who the killer might be?”
Dean shook his head. “No. They’re not even sure what the cause of death was, so they’re sending his body to the state lab for an autopsy. It’ll be a few days before they get a report on the findings. In the meantime, Ben and his deputies will continue to look for any evidence.”
“I doubt you’ve had time to think about this yet, but what about the funeral?”
He raked his hand through his hair and groaned. “I can’t plan anything until his body is returned. I’ve heard him say many times that he only wanted a graveside service with his closest friends there, but I don’t want to even think about that right now.”
Gwen reached for Dean’s hand again. “Then don’t. We’ll wait until the autopsy is completed. Then we’ll plan the funeral.”
His breath hitched in his throat, and he stared at her in disbelief. “We’ll plan the funeral? Do you mean you’ll stay and help me get through it?”
“Of course I will. I loved him, and I don’t want you to have to face this alone.”
Dean’s eyes softened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Thank you, Gwen. I really appreciate that.” He took a deep breath. “Then let’s get going. We need to get you settled and see if Shorty has anything left from supper.”
“Shorty? Is he still there?”
Dean smiled. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll ever leave. He’s like family, and he’s also the best cook in these mountains. I don’t know what we would do without him.”
The memory of earlier times at the Harwell ranch returned, and she again felt the sting of tears. She could almost see Gramps, a tranquil expression on his face, sitting in front of the big fireplace in the den with a cup of coffee after finishing one of Shorty’s big meals, and talking about how God had blessed him. “I have a wonderful grandson, his beautiful wife and the best friends a man could ever have,” he would say, and they would all smile and drink their coffee as they sat snug in the mountain home where Dean had grown up.
It was memories like that, coupled with the secret that was weighing on her mind, that made Gwen wonder if she was going to be able to go back to Little Pigeon Ranch. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“I remember Shorty. If you’d told me he was still the cook, I wouldn’t have had any trouble deciding to go with you. Now I’m starving.”
They stood to leave, but Dean caught her arm to stop her. She turned and looked at him, and her heart pricked at the sad expression on his face. “Gwen, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to bring you back to the ranch and let you see what my life has become there, but I never would have wanted it to be this way.”
She nodded and grasped his arm once more. “Don’t think about that, Dean. Let’s just focus on catching whoever killed Gramps.”
He sucked in his breath and shook his head. “I’m not a police officer anymore. I gave that up years ago.”
�
�You may not be a police officer, but you’re still the grandson he was so proud of. You owe it to him to help Ben find his killer. I know you can do it.”
The lost look in Dean’s eyes turned to one of uncertainty as he stared at her. “I don’t know whether I can or not. I’m not the same person you knew years ago.”
“No, you’re not. I can tell that just in the time I’ve been around you today. I’m beginning to see that you’re a better man than you were then. I want to help you any way I can. Just tell me how.”
He looked down at her hand on his arm and then back up at her face. “Just stay with me until we catch this guy. Then you can go home and put me out of your mind.”
She heard the silent plea in his voice and knew he needed someone by his side during this time. But she also had a daughter who needed her, and she didn’t know how long she could be away from Maggie. Gwen squeezed his hand. “Dean, you may never find out who did this, so I don’t think I should promise I’ll stay until that happens. But I will stay until we can bury Gramps together.”
A sigh of relief rippled from his mouth. “Thank you, Gwen. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
Then he took her by the arm and guided her down the hallway toward the parking lot. The pressure his fingers exerted made her skin grow warm—a reminder of how deeply she’d loved him at one time. The thought scared her, and she gently pulled free. She had to be careful, not let her guard down, if she was to keep the secret she didn’t dare tell him.
The truth that he had a daughter he’d never known could destroy him and send him spiraling back into the life of alcoholism he’d worked so hard to overcome. Not only that, but he would hate Gwen forever if he learned the truth, and she didn’t think she could stand that.
FIVE
Dean had always felt his spirits lift when he turned onto the winding road toward the rambling log house where he’d grown up. Today things were different, however. Ben had called ahead, and all the ranch hands, their cowboy hats over their hearts, stood in the front yard in silence along with the guests. They watched as he pulled the car to a stop.
He turned off the engine and sat staring at the house for a moment, unable to move. The flag that always waved on a pole in the front yard had been lowered to half-staff, and his grandfather’s rocking chair, his favorite place to be in the early evening, stood empty on the front porch. Dean fought back the tears stinging his eyes.
Beside him Gwen looked out the window and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “It hasn’t changed a bit,” she said. “There’s something about this house that made me feel welcome the first time I saw it, and it feels the same now.”
Dean rubbed his hands over his eyes and nodded. “That was Granddad—he was the one who made this place feel so welcoming. It doesn’t seem right to come home and not have him here.” He took a deep breath. “Well, I need to thank everybody for waiting out here.”
He opened the door and climbed out. Gwen met him in front of the car and they walked toward those gathered in the front yard. His foreman was the first to meet him. His face lined with grief, Emmett grasped his Stetson in his left hand and extended his right to Dean.
Dean blinked back the tears and grasped it tightly. The memory returned of how Emmett had looked the first time he’d seen him—a rugged cowboy standing in the front yard to welcome Dean when his grandparents brought him home after his parents were killed. During those dark days, as he was trying to come to grips with the fact that his mother and father were never coming back, Emmett had been there for him.
“I’m sorry about James,” the foreman said. “He was a good man. I want you to know I’ll do anything I can to help you during this time. Just call on me, and I’ll be ready.”
“I know you will. You’ve been a loyal employee here ever since I can remember, but you’re really like family.”
Emmett’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as he turned to Gwen and smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Gwen. We’ve missed you around here.”
She smiled and gave Emmett a quick hug. “Thank you. I’ve thought of you often since I was last here. It’s good to see you again.”
Emmett ducked his head and nodded as he stepped back into the group of employees. Dean moved next to Shorty, whose eyelids were red and swollen, and pulled him into a bear hug.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” the wiry little cook said, his chin trembling. “I don’t know how we’re gonna make it around here without him.”
Dean nodded and patted his back before relaxing his hold. “The two of you have been together for a long time.”
Shorty wiped at his eyes. “About twenty years now. I came to work here right after your grandmother died, and it’s been my home ever since.”
“And it still is, Shorty. That won’t ever change.”
Gwen stepped up beside him, and Shorty’s eyes grew wide. “Miss Gwen? I’d ’bout given up that we’d ever see you again. Welcome home.”
Gwen stiffened for just a moment before she smiled and gave him a hug. “Hello, Shorty. It’s good to see you, but I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
His mouth hung open and he struggled to speak. “B-but what are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you all about it later.” She glanced at Dean. “But for now, do you have anything left to eat? We’re starved.”
The cook grinned and wiped his eyes once more before he turned and started up the steps to the front porch. He peered over his shoulder from Dean to Gwen. “There’s always something to eat in my kitchen. Come on in, and I’ll get it ready.”
When he’d gone into the house Dean turned to face the group assembled in the front yard. He cleared his throat and let his gaze drift over them. “I want to thank all of you for being here. This is a hard time for me, and it’s going to get a lot harder to face the fact that my grandfather is gone.” He paused and took a shaky breath. “But I want all our guests to know that we still intend to give you the full experience of visiting a dude ranch in the mountains. Shorty will be serving breakfast in the main dining room tomorrow morning from seven until nine as usual, and all trail rides and hiking trips that you’ve signed up for will be leaving as scheduled. My grandfather would want you to enjoy your vacation, and we’re going to see that you do. Some of our employees will be patrolling the grounds around the clock to see that you remain safe. So go on with your plans for the evening, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
One by one the guests stepped up to Dean, shook his hand and murmured their condolences. Then they began to drift away, some to rooms inside the main house and others to cabins scattered over the rolling landscape.
When they’d all left, Dean turned back to the ranch hands, who were still standing in the yard. They all seemed to be staring at Gwen as if trying to decide what she was doing with him. He decided against telling them that she was his ex-wife.
“Thanks for being here,” he said instead. “I know you’re all probably wondering who this lovely lady is. She’s Gwen Anderson, a friend of mine. She’s here to scout locations for a documentary her TV network will begin filming soon and will be staying with us for a few days.”
A tall, lanky cowboy stuck out his hand and smiled. “My name’s Luke, ma’am. It’s good to meet you. I was with Dean on the trail ride when we saw you shot. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
She took his hand and shook it. “It’s good to meet you, Luke. I’m sorry I don’t remember seeing you at the parking lot, but you probably understand why.”
“If there’s anything you need while you’re staying with us, let me know. I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can. And so will any of our employees.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Luke turned his attention back to Dean. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll make sure everything keeps running like James
would want. Is there anything I can do for you right now?”
Dean glanced over the cowboys who worked so hard to help his grandfather and him make the ranch a place guests would want to come visit again. His throat closed up at the thought of how his granddad had valued each one of them. “No. Granddad always said he was blessed with the best workers of any of the dude ranches in the mountains. So I guess it’s time for us all to get back to work and make sure that everything is just like he’d want it for tomorrow.”
“I’ll talk to you later, Dean,” Emmett said as he stepped up next to Luke and motioned for the men to leave. Some headed toward the horse barn in the field behind the house to finish night chores, while others walked toward the bunkhouse about two hundred yards away.
As they drifted off, Dean caught a glimpse of Billy Champion, a neighbor who had become a good friend of his grandfather’s over the past year, standing at the back of the crowd, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.
“Billy,” Dean called out. “I didn’t see you there.”
The man raised his head, and Dean sucked in his breath at the tortured look on his face. Slowly he walked toward them, his eyes glued to Dean’s. “Emmett called me when he got the news, and I came right over. I still can’t believe it’s true. How could this have happened?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to believe it myself.” Next to him Gwen stirred, and he glanced at her. “I’m sorry, Billy. I guess you heard me introduce Gwen. She’s a TV producer from New York who’s in the mountains for a few days. Gwen, this is Billy Champion. He’s one of Granddad’s closest friends. He rents a cabin on the back side of the ranch and works at Lambert’s Practice Arena.”
“You mean the one we went to that time when you were going to show me your calf roping skills?”
Dean blushed and nodded. “Yeah, as I remember that didn’t turn out too well. Billy helps Mr. Lambert handle the bucking stock—broncs and bulls. He knows everything there is to know about livestock.”
In a Killer’s Sights Page 5