Her Holiday Rancher

by Cathy McDavid

  “Not all of it.” Gabe couldn’t help smiling. “Parts of it were pretty darn good.”

  “Are you referring to...what happened in the garage?”

  “We kissed, Reese. You can say it.”

  “Shh. Not so loud.” She glanced worriedly around and whispered, “I thought we agreed to pretend that didn’t happen.”

  “Speak for yourself. I, personally, am going to remember that kiss for a long time.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Okay, okay. I won’t bring it up again.” Today. He might want to talk about it again with her. Someday in the future, after he’d bought out his brothers’ share of the ranch and was the sole owner. Then they’d be free to...what? Date? How would Reese feel about that?

  “The argument between you and your brothers is the perfect example of why people choose a bank to be the trustee of their estate.”

  Gabe gave her a wry smile. “I’m beginning to see your point, much as I wish I didn’t.”

  “Your father was a smart man.”

  “In some ways.”

  “No one’s perfect.”

  “How’s your father, by the way?”

  She looked abruptly away. “Fine. Why?”

  “His fall off the porch steps the other day. You left in a hurry.”

  “He’s fine,” she repeated. “Great.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  She grabbed her purse on the floor beside her. “I should check on him.”

  “He’d call if he needed anything, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  There was something off with her, more than the scene at dinner, and Gabe couldn’t put his finger on it. She could feel guilty, he supposed, leaving her father alone on a holiday, even though she said he’d encouraged her to come.

  “Speaking of fathers,” Gabe said, “I remembered something the other day about mine that might interest you.”

  “Oh?”

  “He liked you.”

  “You’re kidding. We barely spoke.” She seemed to relax.

  “Well, I should say, he thought highly of you. He said it once. Admired you for going away.”

  “West Phoenix isn’t exactly going away.”

  “You left the ranch and your father. That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “I attended college. After Celia was born,” she added in a quiet voice.

  “But you didn’t move back to Mustang Valley. Not for twelve years.”

  “There aren’t many opportunities in a town this size for a person with a business degree. I was lucky to land the job at the bank. It was the first management position to open up there in four years.”

  “I think that’s why Dad admired you. Because you chose a career you loved and didn’t settle for being a rancher’s daughter and marrying a local cowboy.”

  Her brows rose.

  He might have been referring to himself, and she might have guessed.

  “It’s more than pursuing a career,” she said. “I made a commitment to my cousin and her husband when they adopted Celia.” Again, she lowered her voice. “I help with some of her expenses. Summer camp. Braces. Piano lessons. I also agreed to assist with her college education. I couldn’t, won’t, ask my father for that. Celia is my responsibility.”

  “That’s very noble of you.” He was sincere.

  “I also like being my own person. I’m very independent.”

  Gabe nodded. “My dad was right to admire you.”

  She smiled, lighting up the room. “If he was still alive, I’d tell him thank you.”

  “Why did you come back to Mustang Valley?”

  She stilled, taking her time to answer. “What’s the old saying about coming home?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  Reese ran her palms down the front of her jeans, then moved her purse to her other arm. “I should leave. It’s getting late.”

  He’d pushed her too far and not for the first time today.

  “Maybe someday you’ll tell me what’s going on.” Gabe searched her face.

  “Nothing’s going on,” she insisted and rose.

  At the front door, he leaned down, intending to kiss her on the cheek.

  “Gabe.” She stepped back.

  “If our fathers weren’t rivals, and you didn’t work for the bank, you and I would be friends. More than friends.”

  She laughed wryly. “I’m not sure about that.”

  Gabe was. “See you soon.”

  He walked back to the kitchen, a spring in his step. That was the closest to a normal, casual conversation he’d ever had with Reese. Truth be told, he rather liked it and could almost—almost—forget she’d turned down his request for a draw on the line of credit.

  “Hey, you two,” he asked his mother and Cara. “Need some help with the dishes?”

  They turned from the sink and gave him the evil eye.

  “I’m assuming you’re mad about dinner.”

  “You have to ask?” Cara resumed loading the dishwasher.

  “Reese gave me an earful earlier.”

  “I like her,” his mother said over the running water.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” He was tired of issuing apologies. “I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.”

  “Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to fight with your brothers.”

  “What would he have wanted, Mom? Because I sure as heck can’t figure it out. Nothing makes any sense. He didn’t care about his other sons until he got sick.”

  “You’re wrong!” His mother shut off the water.

  Cara grabbed a dishtowel and wiped her hands. “Why don’t I leave you two alone so you can talk?” She didn’t wait for an answer and left. He and his mother stood on opposite ends of the kitchen, each of them silently fuming. Gabe caved first. Sort of. What he did was ask the question he’d wanted answered all these years.

  “Why didn’t you and Dad ever marry?”

  “He said once that he told you.”

  “Something about Abuelo not approving of him and you not going against your father’s wishes.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Seriously, Mom? You were an adult when you met Dad. If you’d wanted to marry him after he got his divorce, nothing Abuelo did or said could have stopped you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “That’s what you always say.”

  “You might think badly of your abuelo.” She returned a pan to the cupboard.

  “What did he do?” Gabe chuckled harshly. “Threaten you?”

  She took a long time to answer. “Yes.”

  Gabe scowled. “With what? How?”

  She sat at the table. Gabe did the same and gave his mother the moment she appeared to need in order to collect her thoughts.

  “I promised your father I wouldn’t ever tell you the details,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose now it doesn’t matter. Except...” She squeezed Gabe’s hand, desperation shining in her eyes. “Please try and understand. Your abuelo did what he thought was best.”

  “Threatening someone is never best.”

  “Papi was raised in Mexico and didn’t come to this country until he was a young man. His values and beliefs are those passed down to him from his father, and his father before him. Mexican men are revered as head of the household and their children, especially their daughters, obey them unconditionally. He is also very religious. Your father was separated when we met, staying temporarily with a friend, but still legally married.”

  Gabe hadn’t heard that part of the story before. “He was separated?”

  “He was intending to get a divorce. I was working in Scottsdale at a tree nursery. We met there.”

  Gabe
had heard that part of the story.

  “We started dating, fell in love and planned to marry. His wife, she changed her mind and convinced him to stay, using Josh as a reason. I was heartbroken, but didn’t stop him. He had a son to think of.” His mother paused. “He was gone a month before I realized I was pregnant with you. Hard as it was, I decided not to tell him.”

  “Dad didn’t know about me.” Gabe was stunned.

  “Not until you were born. Someone at the nursery told him I was on maternity leave. Your father figured it out and insisted I move to Mustang Valley to be near him.”

  “And you did?”

  “He told his wife he was getting a divorce. They weren’t happy together. I wouldn’t have moved here if I hadn’t believed him.”

  “But was it true? They did have Cole after me.”

  “Yes. He had the papers drawn up when she told him she was pregnant.”

  “So, he stayed married, and you and he continued seeing each other.” It was hard for Gabe to understand. His father had always preached honor and respect, yet he hadn’t practiced those qualities. Not when it came to Gabe’s mother.

  “Eventually, your father did divorce. His wife left him and took their sons. My father still didn’t approve. His religion doesn’t favor divorce.”

  “You can’t run your children’s lives once they reach adulthood.”

  “My father ran mine,” she admitted sadly. “He told me if I married your father, he would forbid me to have any contact with my mother and brothers.”

  “That’s not only wrong, it’s cruel.” Gabe couldn’t pick who he was madder at, his father or his grandfather. “What was he planning on doing? Ban you? Lock up Abuela and your brothers?”

  “He would have forbidden them to see me, and Mama would not have disobeyed him.”

  “He’s not in charge of—”

  “You don’t understand, mijo. You were raised by American parents. Mine have entirely different values. Your father understood and, for that reason, he refused to marry me. He didn’t want to be responsible for cutting me off from my family. He’d already lost his sons.”

  “But Abuelo was all right with you two living together?”

  “No, which is why they stayed at the inn in town and not at the house. But he believed a man has a responsibility to his children. He expected your father to raise and support you.”

  “He sounds like a hypocrite.”

  “Perhaps he is. But I respect him for his beliefs.”

  “Abuela would have found a way to see you and talk to you.”

  “Perhaps. And when Papi found out, he’d have made her life miserable. Your father wouldn’t put her in that position. He did what he thought was best.”

  “For him. Not for you. Or me.” Gabe hated how childish he sounded, but he’d suffered his entire life from his parents’ decision not to marry and, it seemed, his grandfather’s bullying tactics.

  “Your father had a lot of regrets. One was you not getting the chance to know your brothers.”

  “He cut them off.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Are you going to tell me that was Abuelo’s doing, too?”

  “To a degree. Josh and Cole’s mother was also responsible. She turned them against your father. Filled their heads with half-truths. Made him out to be a terrible person.”

  “Can you blame her for being angry? He had an affair.” Gabe had loved his father always, but he was angry at him. “I was born in between Josh and Cole, which means he was sleeping with both her and you at the same time.” At his mother’s beet-red face, Gabe felt ashamed. “I’m sorry, Mom. That was thoughtless of me.”

  “Try not to be so angry and bitter.”

  “It’s hard to be anything but.”

  “Your father married because it was a good match, and he was of an age to settle down. Unfortunately, they were miserable together. When we met, it was like in the movies, fireworks exploding in the sky.” She blushed anew. “We were wrong, I admit it. And our decisions caused a lot of hurt and pain for people we cared about. I would, however, do it again.” She cupped Gabe’s cheek. “Because I loved him more than life itself, and he gave me you.”

  “Why didn’t he leave me the ranch like he promised?”

  She returned her hand to her lap. “He was trying to make up to Josh and Cole for all the years he missed. And, I believe this with all my heart, he wanted to unite the three of you.”

  “Why didn’t he try years ago?”

  “He did. But, by then, the damage was done. Your brothers wanted nothing to do with him, and every overture he made was ignored or thrown back in his face.”

  Gabe was pretty sure if he looked up dysfunctional family in the dictionary, he’d read a description of the Dempseys and Salazars. If he wasn’t so close to the situation, he’d laugh. Or get drunk. “Come on, Mom.” He pushed back from the table. “I’ll help you finish the dishes.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “The job will go faster with two people.”

  She smiled, relief in her expression, and chatted amiably about the upcoming Holly Daze Festival and the best time to haul out the Christmas decorations from storage.

  Gabe understood that the causal banter helped take his mother’s mind off her grief over his father’s death and the unpleasant scene between him and his brothers. He wished he could say the same for himself.

  Rather than feeling better, Gabe’s anger and frustration continued to simmer. His mother had answered his question, but nothing had changed. He was still the illegitimate son who didn’t inherit the ranch his father had promised him.

  What an idiot he’d been earlier, thinking he could ask Reese out after this was all over. Without full ownership of the ranch and a respected place in the community, he had nothing to offer her. A woman like Reese deserved better.

  Chapter Seven

  For the next week, Gabe grudgingly showed his brothers the ropes. Working together, they vaccinated the calves, checked the cows, offloaded the five semitruck loads of hay and conferred with the vet. Gabe was satisfied with the results. More cows were in condition to breed than last year. With luck, they’d increase the herd by a sizable amount.

  If they could just hold out and keep the bill collectors at bay a while longer. Rain had yet to come to Mustang Valley, though the forecast was optimistic.

  Wait a minute. They? He almost bit his tongue. He could not think of him and his brothers collectively. Whether they grew tired and eventually left, or he bought them out, they’d soon be gone.

  He understood why Josh stayed. He needed a place he could bring his two children after the first of the year when he gained full custody of them. Cole, well, he remained a mystery.

  The man had a decent rodeo career that he’d put on hold in order to stay at Dos Estrellas. Josh, too. Their mother’s parents owned a horse ranch in Northern California where the brothers had been raised and learned to cowboy. Gabe had heard the two of them talking the other day, and their grandparents’ place also served as their home base when they weren’t on the circuit. Point being, Cole didn’t have a compelling reason to remain in Mustang Valley.

  The only reason Gabe could think of was his loyalty to Josh, something he’d observed on more than one occasion. It was an admirable quality, and his estimation of Cole was raised a small notch, not that he’d ever tell his younger brother.

  He’d also never tell Cole how good he was with horses. And Josh was a quick learner who showed a knack for cattle management. Had either of them been newly hired ranch hands, Gabe would credit them with potential. Because they stood between him and sole ownership of Dos Estrellas, he kept his mouth shut.

  Gabe sat back in his father’s office chair and stretched. Sitting at a desk and poring over papers wasn’t his idea of a fun time.
The past hour had dragged by like three. Neither Cole nor Josh had objected when Gabe stated he wanted to be the one in charge of record keeping. His motives had nothing to do with the fact that the task gave him an opportunity to talk to Reese almost daily.

  She was patient with him and willing to answer his numerous questions. They’d covered balancing the monthly bank statements, updating income and expense spreadsheets, the liability insurance renewal and also a household budget. Gabe was learning a lot more about the business end of running a cattle operation than he’d thought possible.

  One more thing the cancer had taken from him—Gabe’s opportunity to learn this part of the family business from his father.

  His anger from last week had dimmed, but the pain remained constant. How long until he stopped seeing his father’s ghost everywhere in the house and barn?

  His cell phone vibrated. Thinking it was the grain supplier, he was pleased to see Reese’s name and number appear. This would be a nice break from the busy morning he’d had, crunching numbers and making calls.

  “Hi, how you doing?” Funny, a month ago he couldn’t have imagined himself happily answering a call from her. Neither could he have imagined kissing her. Yet, he’d done both and enjoyed it.

  “We have a problem.” She spoke in a rush.

  “What’s wrong?” His first thought was another unexpected bill. They’d received a whopper the other day, an overlooked co-pay balance from his father’s specialist.

  “Some of your cattle in section nine broke through the fence along the west line.”

  “Are they in with the Small Change livestock?”

  “And some of ours are in with yours. Guess it’s quite a mess up there, according to Enrico.”

  “I’ll be right over.” He shut off the ten-key calculator and desk lamp.

  “Bring help,” she said.

  “That bad?”

  “Apparently so.”

  The two neighbors had an unwritten agreement not to graze their cattle on adjacent land. Problem was, with the drought continuing, section nine had the best available grassland on Dos Estrellas. If Gabe and Violet hadn’t moved a portion of their stock there, they’d be facing an even greater shortage of feed.