The Cowboy's Craving (Book 4, the Mackenzies—Morgan)

by Diana Fraser

  Morgan bit back his anger. He wouldn’t ruin Callum but he might let him stew a bit. “All three of you are meeting with the lawyers tomorrow, right?”

  Callum nodded, barely able to contain his anger.

  “Then I’ll see you there.”

  “You bastard,” Callum muttered.

  “Correct. And whose fault was that? Not mine, not my mother’s, but our father’s. And he owes me. Have you any idea what it was like growing up with a father who refused to have anything to do with me?”

  “And you think that entitles you?”

  “I don’t think, I know.” With each passing comment of Callum’s, Morgan grew more and more angry, dredging years of bitterness to the surface. “Remember, Callum, I’m older than you. Your brothers might not be interested in Glencoe, but farming’s in my blood.” Morgan turned away and walked to the door.

  “Get out of my house!” Callum called after him.

  Morgan stopped and turned slowly, fury pulsing through his veins. Fury against the Mackenzies and how they treated his mother all those years ago. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

  “Of course. You’ve moved into the homestead. It was all part of your plan, wasn’t it? All along, you’ve been maneuvering yourself to be in this position. Christ, how could I have been sucked in so easily?”

  Morgan paused, white hot anger filling his veins. “I don’t know. Perhaps you’re weaker, more like our father, than you thought.”

  Morgan closed the door behind him and went to his bedroom, the room he shared with Joe. His son. The only member of his family who mattered now.

  It was the knock at her front door which awoke her. Rebecca blinked slowly and glanced at the clock. It was midday. Everyone knew she didn’t get in from night work until seven in the morning. Everyone knew she was a no-go area until at least two in the afternoon. Particularly Morgan, whose knock it was. No one else knocked like that, she thought. One knock—loud enough for her to hear wherever she was in the small cottage. Typical of him. He only had to do something once to make a point. Still, knowing it was him at the door, all feelings of tiredness disappeared as her body responded at the thought of him.

  Her heat leaped. She’d only seen him last night, before she left for work but she rushed to the door, tying her robe as she went, eager to see him again. She opened the door wide. “Morgan.” She stepped toward him and then stopped abruptly as she looked down into Joe’s pensive face.

  Morgan’s hands lightly kneaded the little boy’s shoulders, protectively, reassuringly. The little boy’s eyes were large and anxious, as usual. It made her heart melt to see his insecurity.

  She dropped her hand to her side, pulling her robe more tightly around her. She swept her hair from her face. “Joe! How lovely to see you. Come in.”

  She stood to one side to let them in. “An unexpected pleasure, Morgan.”

  He nodded grimly and walked past her into the kitchen, where bright sunshine streamed in, reflecting off the yellow painted walls and the polished wood of the table and bookcases. Rebecca didn’t try to hug Joe, or touch him, as she knew from experience that it made Joe feel uncomfortable.

  “Joe?” prompted Morgan.

  “Hello, Rebecca,” Joe dutifully said.

  “Hi. Fancy a hot chocolate? With froth on?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Why don’t you go and play with the toys and the train set in the front room while I get us all some drinks?” She could see Morgan had something on his mind and the toy box was also out of earshot. Joe should have been at school in Lake Tekapo at this time of day and Morgan was always busy somewhere on Glencoe. “I’ll put on a CD you might like.” She flicked on the music and then returned to Morgan.

  They both watched Joe quietly sit down and begin playing with the train set Rebecca had set up for him alongside a bookcase full of her old favorites.

  Rebecca stepped into the kitchen and Morgan followed her. She’d hardly had time to turn before he pulled her to him and gave her a big hug. She stepped back and looked up at him, her arms snaking around his neck. “What’s up?”

  The muscles flickered in his jaw and his eyes were red with exhaustion. “It’s all a mess.” He pulled away from her and walked over to the kitchen sink, gripped it and looked out the window. “All a bloody mess.”

  She walked up behind him and hesitated, feeling the tension coming off him in waves. “Tell me. Is it Joe? His mother?”

  “No.” They glanced through the serving hatch at Joe who was playing, unable to hear their words. “No, Joe’s… the same.”

  “Then, what? I don’t understand.”

  He turned in her arms, pushing back her hair, looking everywhere except her eyes. She reached up and held his face firm between her two hands. “Look at me, Morgan. And tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me. Is anything the matter with you? Are you ill?”

  He looked down at her then. “No, I’m not ill. I’m sorry, Rebecca. After all I’ve said... But I’ve no choice. I’ve come to tell you we won’t be here after tonight. We’ll be gone this time tomorrow. Me and Joe. We can’t stay.”

  She froze. She literally froze. It was as if the blood had drained from her, leaving her without warmth—chill and numb.

  She opened her mouth to speak but no words had formed, and her mouth was suddenly dry as fear gripped her.

  “Rebecca?” He took her hands from his head and put them into his own, cradling them. “Say something.”

  She shook her head. “You’re… What? You’re leaving?”

  He nodded, the line between his eyebrows, furrowing further with concern.

  “But, why? Didn’t you mean what you said before? All that stuff about staying to be here for Joe and me. What was that all about?”

  “Of course I meant it. I’d made plans, plans that could have given us a future. But not now…”

  “Tell me. I don’t understand.” She tried to keep her voice even, to stop it from shaking but a sob came up from nowhere and broke up the last word.

  “I had to tell Callum the truth about me.”

  Confusion broke through the paralysis of fear. “The truth about you? Don’t I know the truth about you? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “It was never my intention—you have to believe me—to tell him. I came here just to see… just to stay a season and then go. But then I met you.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  He exhaled roughly. “No, I’m not. Because none of this does.” He took her hands again and looked into her eyes. “Callum is my half-brother. My mother and Hugh Mackenzie had an affair. She was forced to leave, paid off by him and we both conveniently disappeared.”

  Her eyes widened with each word uttered. “You. And Callum. Are brothers?”

  “Half-brothers.”

  She blinked, relieved. “Wow! I always thought you looked alike.” She shook her head, half-laughing. “That’s amazing. I mean, it’s awful what happened to your mum, but that you’ve found your half-brother and that you both really like each other, that bit’s really great.”

  “No, it’s not. Callum and I had an argument. He’s not happy about the situation and nor am I. I have no option but to leave.”

  “No! Surely there’s a way out of this. He’s a rational man and you’re, well, sort of rational.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  “Surely you can resolve whatever the issues are.” She hesitated as her logical mind quickly assessed what the issues might be. “Is Callum upset by what his father’s done? About his father’s affair? Worried about what his mother might say when she finds out?”

  “I don’t think that worried him. From what Callum has said in the past, I don’t think anything would surprise him about his father.”

  “Is it because he’s been taken by surprise? Maybe you just need to give him time to get used to the idea. After all it’s been kind of dumped on him while you’ve lived with this all your life.”

  “Yeah. I’
ve had my whole life knowing I’m a bastard. Reckon I don’t feel that sympathetic with Callum. He’s had everything handed to him on a plate.”

  “I don’t know about that. From what Gemma says his father was pretty mean to all of them.”

  “He got it easy, believe me.”

  She shook her head. “Why did you come here, Morgan? You must have known what it would be like.”

  He shrugged. “I saw a piece in the paper about Glencoe formally changing hands. I hadn’t thought much of the place up till then. So I thought why not go and see if it was like Mum had described.”

  “And was it?”

  “Pretty much. Even though life here was good, I knew I’d never fit in. One season and then I’d move on, that’s what I thought. Keep moving, just as I always had since Leah and Joe left. Then I met you. And I thought I’d stay a little longer. But you were always too good for me.”

  “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Come on. Think of that list of yours. I’ll bet I’m not even close to matching up to it.”

  A lump rose into her throat from nowhere. She blinked. “Weren’t you?”

  “Not unless you changed each point on it to the opposite, no.”

  She tried to smile, thinking of all the changes she’d made to her list since she’d met Morgan. “True. But why move now?” She tried to shrug, tried to keep things cool.

  “Callum believes I’m after a share in the property.”

  “He believes what? But that’s ridiculous. How on earth did he get that idea?”

  “Because that’s what I led him to believe.”

  The microwave beeped and Rebecca jumped. Mind racing, she pulled away from Morgan and focused on making Joe his hot chocolate, thankful for the opportunity to process this piece of totally illogical information.

  She stirred in the chocolate and reached into the cupboard for a marshmallow, selected a couple of white ones—she’d sussed out pretty quickly that Joe didn’t like pink—and dropped one onto the chocolate and the other on the saucer. Just the thought of little Joe moving on brought tears to her eyes. She bit her lip and plucked another couple of marshmallows out of the bag and placed them on the saucer.

  She took the drink over to Joe. “Here you go, Joe.” She could hear the false note of cheer in her voice and by the alert expression on Joe’s face, he’d noticed it too. You couldn’t fool kids. “I’ll put it on the coffee table. It’s still a bit hot.”

  Her mind raced, trying to figure out if she’d got Morgan wrong all these months, as she watched Joe take a sip of froth before rolling onto his stomach again to carefully push a train into a siding. She continued to watch, not wanting to look at Morgan with a face full of uncertainty, as Joe assembled the little train figures—the engineer, the controller—around the train with great precision. He sat back on his haunches and got another train and with full force bashed it into the first train, sending the little figures flying everywhere. Then he got another little figure from the second train and began making shooting noises.

  “What are you doing, Joe?” Morgan asked. Rebecca hadn’t heard him come into the room.

  Joe stopped playing and his actions became careful once more. “Just playing.”

  “Looks like there’s been a bit of a crash.” Morgan dropped down to his son’s level and picked up the man who was killing everyone. “And who’s this guy?”

  “He’s the mean guy who kills people.”

  “Why’s he killing people?”

  “Because he wants their money. That’s what mean guys do.”

  “Not that often.”

  Joe turned his little face up to Morgan. “They do if they want money for drugs. I’ve seen it.” The atmosphere changed immediately and Joe felt it. A shadow fell over his face and he turned away. “I have.” He stuck out his bottom lip mutinously.

  “Where did you see it?”

  “At home.”

  “In LA?”

  “Yeah. Not LA like on telly, LA. But where Mum and me and Mum’s friends lived.”

  Morgan closed his eyes briefly as if he were in pain and then he looked over to Rebecca who had trouble keeping back the tears. Playing with the train set had opened Joe up in a way that talking couldn’t. The kid was scared of the world because his old world had terrified him. And no wonder.

  Morgan knelt down beside him. “Maybe we should get the good guys some help?” He rummaged in the toy box and found a helicopter. “Maybe the good guys can swoop in and make everything okay. Hey?”

  Joe shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Let’s try.”

  Rebecca returned to the kitchen and made Morgan and her hot drinks, watching them play together through the hatch. Any doubts she had that Morgan might undermine Callum’s claim to Glencoe evaporated in just that one act. She had Morgan pegged all right. He was a kind, honorable man who’d rather die, rather inflict injury on himself, than hurt the people he loved and respected. He’d get Joe through this. And he’d make no claim on the Glencoe lands, no demands on Callum. But who was there to look out for him?

  Rebecca reached for her phone and sent a text to Gemma.

  “Each is as dumb as the other.” Gemma sat back in her chair in the Café, her eyes bright with anger. “My grandpa used to say he’d box my ears if I didn’t stop being a pain and that’s what they need—their ears boxing. They’re acting like little kids.”

  “I think your parenting skills need brushing up,” smiled Rebecca.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I know just what you mean. I can’t understand why Callum would believe Morgan would do a thing like that. Morgan hasn’t an acquisitive bone in his body. He doesn’t demand anything from anyone.”

  “Callum knows that really. I think he’s just scared. Glencoe means everything to him and he’s never had a moment’s doubt, growing up, that it would always be his to run as he wanted. Dallas and James have other interests and were more than happy to let Callum manage the lot.” Gemma paused. “And the timing thing. That Morgan should show up just at the moment that everything was to be ratified.” She shook her head. “It’s a real coincidence.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Morgan told me that he saw something in the paper about Glencoe almost two years ago which got him thinking. And that something was related to the final wind up of the estate. The finalization of the estate wasn’t why he’s here, but the media surrounding it highlighted it.”

  “Ah, that makes sense. And I’m sure it’ll make sense to Callum.” Gemma sighed. “He knows. I’m sure he knows. But these guys are just so damned stubborn. Once they’ve made a stand, it’s hell getting them to back down. Any ideas?”

  Rebecca sat forward in her chair. “Funny you should ask.”

  Half an hour later they both left the Café with smug grins on their faces.

  Three pairs of hard eyes met Morgan as he entered the Mackenzie family’s lawyer’s office.

  James was sitting down, one ankle hooked over his leg. He shook his head in disbelief and brushed a piece of imaginary fluff off his suit trousers.

  Dallas stood behind the lawyer, looking over some papers and Callum stood with his back against the wall, as if he’d just turned from looking out the window.

  The lawyer rose and extended his hand. “Mr…”

  “West. Morgan West.”

  “Please, be seated.”

  “No thanks, mate. I’d rather stand. This won’t take long.”

  “You reckon?” scowled Callum.

  “Yeah, I reckon.”

  “Well,” the lawyer looked over his glasses anxiously at the others. “If you’re ready, then maybe we should begin.”

  Dallas came and stood, arms folded, between Callum and Morgan. James was the only brother who was seated. “Sure,” said James, “I think we’d all appreciate this being wound up as soon as possible.”

  Morgan had never felt so uncomfortable in all his l
ife. But he’d come to a decision. For Rebecca and for Joe, he’d stand his ground and press ahead with his original plans. So he remained standing alongside Dallas and Callum as the lawyer droned through some preliminaries. Then he stopped and looked up at Morgan with a little trepidation.

  “And, I understand Mr. West that you wish to make a claim.”

  “A claim?”

  “That you’re the… illegitimate son of Sir Hugh Mackenzie. And”—he peered at the three brothers—“I have to say that the information appears correct.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I am.”

  Callum turned to face him squarely and Morgan turned towards him, ignoring Dallas who stood in the way, and the lawyer whose voice couldn’t be heard above the Mackenzie brother’s deep voices.

  “So what do you intend to do about it, then?” asked Callum.

  “I’ve come to make you an offer.”

  Callum scoffed. “Right. How much of my inheritance do you want?”

  Morgan handed him the papers he’d intended to show Callum a few days ago. “The land that borders Lake Tekapo. It’s not much use to you. Too far away from a good road to move sheep along, and too far away from good shelter. But if you lease it to me I can make it productive.”

  Callum raised his eyebrows and took the papers. “That’s all you want? And you want to lease it?”

  “Yeah. Look at the papers. I don’t want anything for nothing. The price I’m willing to pay is there.”

  Callum pressed his lips together as he read and then looked up at Morgan. “Where are you getting this money?”

  “I’ve not stolen it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s all above board. Your father paid my mother off years ago to keep her quiet. And she was. She invested the money for me but I never touched it. I never wanted anything to do with it, but I’ve sold the investments now that I’ve Joe to consider. Take it or leave it.”

  “Is that it?” asked Dallas frowning as he looked from Callum to Morgan. “You’re not making any other claim on the land.”

  “It’s not my land to claim.” Morgan didn’t take his eyes off Callum. “I think your brother jumped to the wrong conclusion.”