The Magnificent Seven

by Cheryl St. John

  Surely it was just a figure of speech.

  Mitch had never spoken of where he'd lived before, or since his wife's death. He'd spoken of his mother and mother-in-law caring for the girls while he worked. He'd been perfectly at ease with bringing their belongings to the bunkhouse and living there.

  What did "home" truly mean?

  Her kids had nice rooms in their city apartment. Of course, they spent most of their days in day care and school, their family time occupied with Heather cooking and cleaning and doing laundry for the next day. Planning ahead and keeping an agenda was the only way to survive her job and her kids.

  Since the demands on her time and her performance had been eased here at the ranch, she'd become less structured and more lenient. Lenient with the kids. Lenient with herself.

  And they'd all benefited. No wonder the kids liked it here. No wonder Jessica referred to the ranch as home.

  Heather would miss this. All of this.

  She would miss the kids more than ever when she went back to work. To a job that could get by without her.

  She instructed Martin to cut a couple of horses for his own herd, thanked him and drove Mitch's truck back to her ranch. The thought of going back to California and never seeing Mitch again created an ache in her heart. She would just have to deal with it.

  Once Heather had parked and she and Jess got out of the truck, the sound of hammering caught their attention. They followed it to the bunkhouse.

  An odd sight greeted them. The inflatable pool had been blown up inside, and within its confines sat Andrew, contentedly playing with a stack of freshly made wooden blocks, safely sanded, but void of paint or decoration. He seemed to not care, stacking them and knocking them down.

  The twins and Patrick were engrossed in a board game at the trestle table. A bowl of popcorn sat between them, the scarred floor scattered with kernels that had missed their mouths.

  Mitch was humming to himself and hanging doors on shelves he'd constructed on the wall beside the sink. Those slim-fitting jeans and that tool belt were a combination guaranteed to draw Heather's appreciative gaze to his hips.

  "Mommy!" Patrick spotted her and climbed down from his chair to give her a hug.

  She hugged him soundly, and he went back to his game.

  Jessica joined them. Mitch turned and gave her a smile. "How's the head?"

  "I'd forgotten all about it."

  "Good. Got a hand to lend me?"

  "Sure."

  "Could you hold this in place for a minute?"

  She held a cabinet door while he aligned the hinges and placed the screws in the wood.

  "How was your ride?"

  She smiled. "Great. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it."

  "Jess liked it?"

  "Loved it. She had a ball. Very clever of you to occupy the darlings so you could get a little work in. The pool was sheer genius."

  "Wasn't it?" He grinned. "I'm learning. You can let go."

  She stepped away.

  He brushed his hands off on his thighs. "I'm going to finish this and clean up, then we'll go get the Blazer."

  "Okay."

  "Since you'll almost be there, will you join me for dinner at Garrett's?"

  "Oh, I don't think so, Mitch. I wouldn't want to impose."

  "It's not an imposition. Family and friends always drop by on Sundays. He plans for a crowd, and he loves every minute of it."

  "No, really." she said. "I wouldn't feel right."

  "Okay." He shrugged and bent to place his tools in his toolbox. He hadn't expected her to accept, really, but he didn't want her to be alone if she'd rather have company. From a crouched position, he glanced up at her. "Would you rather I didn't go? I don't mind staying, if you think you'll need some rest or something."

  "Is that what this is about? No, Í told you I'm fine. You go have your dinner like you usually do."

  She took the kids outdoors and left Mitch to grab a quick shower. He hadn't slept well on her couch last night. He'd ventured up to check on her every hour or so. Usually she'd slept right through his visit to her room, but once she'd roused with a sigh and reached for him. He'd given her his hand and she'd pulled it to her face for a moment, rubbed her soft cheek against his fingers, then held his palm against her breast until she fell soundly asleep.

  He was determined to separate himself from the temptation she presented, but this incident had interrupted his plan. She didn't have anyone else, and she seemed particularly vulnerable right now. As self-sufficient and capable as she was, circumstances made everyone need a little help from time to time.

  Mitch dressed and called the twins in to wash, and he changed them into clean clothes. In a matter of minutes they were all settled in his crew cab.

  "This road is probably treacherous in the winter," Mitch commented as they neared the spot where they'd left the Blazer.

  "Why's that?" Jessica asked.

  "Snow and ice would make these mountain roads dangerous."

  "There's snow in Montana?" she asked.

  Mitch nodded.

  Patrick leaned forward and peered out the window. "Where's snow?"

  Mitch laughed. "There's no snow right now except up on the mountains, but at Christmastime there'll be lots of snow down here."

  "Can we see it?" Patrick asked excitedly. "Can we, Mom?"

  "We'll be back in California long before that," was her reply.

  "Aw," Patrick groaned. "I want to stay and see the snow."

  From the corner of his eye Mitch caught Jess glancing at her mother. "Maybe we can visit," she said hopefully.

  Heather made no reply.

  "Can you ride horses in the winter?" the girl asked, this time directing her query to Mitch.

  "Sure," Mitch replied. "Used to be the only way to get around, before there were cars and four-wheel- drive vehicles."

  "Cool," she said.

  Mitch spotted the Blazer and pulled off the road in front of it. He got out to assist, transferring Andrew's car seat. The little boy raised his chubby arms to Mitch and Mitch took him for a hug before placing him in his seat and fastening the restraints. Andrew puckered up and cried broken-heartedly.

  "I'll see you later, buddy," he told him with a wave.

  Heather thanked him and got into her vehicle. He waited until she got it started and headed back toward her ranch.

  "Seems kinda lonesome when they leave, don't it?" Ashley asked with six-year-old guilelessness and sixty-year-old insight.

  "We've still got each other," Mitch told her.

  He looked over his shoulder to see that Taylor had taken her sister's hand and held it in silent consolation. There were those darling angelic babies he'd first known. His chest ached with love and a desire to give them what they needed most. He wanted them to feel part of a family so badly he could taste it.

  Because he'd felt out of place with his stepsiblings, he'd craved a true family of his own. His marriage to Jamie and the birth of their girls had given him the family he'd missed out on.

  And then that family had been broken by her death. His girls deserved a full measure. He deserved it, too.

  "I love you guys," he said around a lump in his throat.

  "Love you, Daddy," they chorused.

  "Summer's asked me to go talk with Gavin Nighthawk," Garrett was filling Mitch in as they waited in the study for Hattie to announce dinner.

  "In jail?" Mitch asked.

  "She is convinced he's innocent and has asked me to do something."

  "What can you do?"

  "If I believe his story, I can hire a decent attorney for him."

  "And you'd be willing to do that?"

  "I'd do it for Summer."

  "It's really important to her, huh?"

  Garrett nodded affirmatively. "I'm famished. Hope the others get here soon." "It's pretty quiet. I think I'd better check on the twins."

  Mitch found the girls in the hallway, where they'd created a tent out of an antique table and a fringed tablecloth.
"Come out from under there. Did you ask permission to play here? I don't think it's such a good idea."

  He smoothed the tablecloth back into its original position. "It's almost time to eat."

  The girls took his hands. On the way past a long polished table, Taylor reached for a tin of chocolates.

  "Whoa, there," Mitch said, intercepting the piece of candy. "You guys haven't eaten your dinner yet."

  "Don't want dinner," Taylor pouted. "Want candy."

  "Well, you're not getting any until I say so. You'd be bouncing of the walls if I let you eat this now."

  "You're mean!"

  "I'm sorry you think that," he said, borrowing a line he'd heard Heather use. "But those are the rules."

  Taylor and Ashley exchanged a look. Dad holding firm on this rule stuff was still a novelty. "What about after dinner?" Ashley asked.

  "After dinner you can each have a couple."

  Taylor held up three fingers. "This many?"

  "Two," he replied.

  She scowled.

  Mitch held firm and hid the tin of candy on top of an armoire.

  "Daddy won't let us eat the chocolates until after supper," Ashley told her great-grandfather.

  "Well, that sounds fair to me." Garrett patted the cushion of the leather sofa where he sat. "Dads know best, you know."

  Ashley seated herself primly beside him.

  "Daddy, don't Patrick and them guys know what snow looks like?" Ashley asked.

  "No," he replied. "There's no snow where they live."

  "Not even in winter?"

  "Not even in winter."

  "Gosh."

  "Cade and Leanne aren't coming today?" Mitch asked his grandfather.

  "They're doing something with Cade's brother today."

  Mitch's half brother, Blake Remmington, and his wife, Serena, and their son, Nate, arrived then.

  "Look at this future rancher," Garrett said, admiring his handsome great-grandson.

  The girls had someone new to pay attention to. The boy was near the same age, with straight dark hair like his mother and blue eyes like his father. The three entertained a lively conversation.

  Dinner was announced, and they all moved into the dining room.

  "Aren't they a lovely family?" Garrett said to Mitch, referring to Blake and Serena.

  "Yes," Mitch agreed. Nobody missed having a complete family more than Mitch.

  While the others visited, Garrett leaned close to Mitch and said quietly, "Have you thought any more about staying?"

  Nineteen

  Mitch knew his grandfather was referring to his staying in Whitehorn permanently. "Sure have. Haven't decided anything though."

  Disappointment was apparent in the droop of Garrett's shoulders. He raised a brow. "There's plenty of young women in Whitehorn."

  Mitch stopped him. "Please don't fix me up with anyone else. I appreciate the effort—and the thought, but if I'm going to meet someone, I'd rather do it on my own."

  "You're hankerin' after that Johnson woman, aren't you?"

  "And if I was?"

  "Way I understand it, she's planning on heading back to California. Is that right?"

  "She has a good job in San Francisco."

  Garrett studied Mitch's face, and Mitch put on his best mask of unconcern, wondering if the old man was fooled.

  "There's land here for you, son. Land that's rightfully yours."

  "That's generous of you, and I promise to deal with that if the time comes."

  "When the time comes," Garrett said forcefully.

  They shared a look, and Mitch felt bad about not sharing his thoughts with someone who obviously cared so much. "Okay, I'm thinking really strongly that I'd like to stay here. There are more reasons to stay than to go. But I don't want to say for sure. Nobody should get their hopes up yet, not you and not the girls. Not until I decide."

  Or not until Heather was really gone and he had to focus on the rest of his life without her.

  "I respect that you want time to decide what you want," the old man said. "You need that. I'm not a meddling old fool. I just want you here. Too selfishly, I guess."

  "You're not selfish." Mitch grinned and finished his dinner.

  It was early evening when the Fielding trio arrived back at the Bolton ranch. The girls asked if they could go spend a few minutes with Jessica.

  "Go ahead. But if they're doing a family thing, come right back."

  "Like what?" Taylor asked.

  "Like watching a video or playing a game together or something."

  "That's family things?" she questioned.

  "Sort of."

  "How will we know?" Ashley was wondering now.

  "Never mind." He waved them toward the door. "Knock!"

  "Jess sees me, Dad. She's right there at the table." Taylor opened the screen door and walked in, Ashley on her heels.

  Mitch stood studying the new porch and eaves, noticing a place that needed touching up.

  A few minutes later the back door opened and the girls filed out. "Can Jess come over and play with us, Daddy? Her mom's upstairs with the boys."

  "If it's okay with her mom."

  "It is," Jessica said. "I already asked her."

  He walked behind them to the bunkhouse, listening in amusement to their girlish chatter. Once inside they gathered brushes and combs and a mirror and turned the table into a beauty parlor.

  Mitch changed out of his good slacks and set about finishing the built-ins he'd started that morning.

  Jessica's words stopped him. "We're going back to San Francisco."

  "Not for a long time," Taylor said.

  "Yuh-huh," Jess informed her. "My mom said at the end of this week we're goin'. She's gonna have Mr. Rollins sell our horses, and the house-seller lady is coming tomorrow."

  But the work's not finished, Mitch wanted to shout. There were still at least three weeks of work left to remodel the upstairs bath and the kitchen. The outbuildings needed painting, too. He gripped his hammer and listened to the girls's talk turn serious.

  "I wish we could stay," Jessica told the twins. "I asked my mom, but she said this can't be our home. She has her job and I have my school. Patrick will go to school this year, too."

  "We might get to go to school here in Montana," Ashley said. "We hope so, anyway. You could go to school here, too."

  "I know. But my mom said we can't stay."

  "I think I'm gonna cry," Taylor announced.

  Jess and Ashley patted her back.

  Mitch knew how she felt. They were leaving. It was real. Definite. Heather'd never led him to believe any differently. What had he imagined? That she'd fall so hard for him, she'd change all her plans and give up her job and change her life just for him? Yeah, right.

  He finished the cabinets and sanded them with less enthusiasm than he'd begun the project. The wood needed a sealer, but he didn't want to release the chemical smell just before they'd be going to bed. He put away his supplies and told the girls it was time to get ready for bed. Standing on the porch, he watched Jess return to the house and turn with a forlorn wave.

  He waved back.

  He bathed the girls, read them a story and put them to bed. "Can me an' Taylor sleep together tonight, Daddy?" Ashley asked.

  He understood the comfort they needed, and was glad they could give it to each other. "Sure. It's crowded, but I guess you don't care."

  Taylor climbed out of the covers and into his lap. With a sweet ache in his chest, he returned her hug, enjoying her baby-fresh smell. He'd buckled down on the rules, disciplined them because he loved them. And for the first time he could remember, Taylor was seeking affection in his arms.

  "'Night, Daddy."

  "'Night, sweetheart. Know how much I love you?"

  "How much?"

  "As much as there is snow in the mountains."

  "Wow!"

  "Me, too?" Ashley asked. "How much do you love me?"

  He tucked Taylor back in and spoke to his other daughter. "I l
ove you as much as there is water in the ocean."

  "Is that a lot?"

  "It's a whole lot."

  "Maybe we can go visit Jess and the boys sometime and see."

  He kissed their foreheads and turned off the wall lamp. "Maybe we can."

  He closed the door. Finding a stack of carpentry magazines he'd set aside to read, he grabbed a cola and settled into the only comfortable chair. He'd been distractedly reading for half an hour when a light knock sounded on the door.

  Heather stood on the other side of the screen. "Can I come in for a few minutes?"

  "Sure." He stood back and let her pass into the room.

  She sat on one of the ancient rockers.

  "Want something to drink?"

  "No thanks."

  He went back to his chair.

  "I'm leaving at the end of the week."

  "So I heard."

  She looked a little embarrassed. "Oh. Jess told you?"

  "She told the girls."

  "Sorry you had to find out like that."

  He leaned forward. "What about the sale of the house?"

  "The Realtor can do it now. It's almost ready. She can send any papers I need to sign by FedEx service. I've got nearly everything done that I needed to do."

  He studied her without comment, his heart being torn in two.

  "I'm sorry about the girls. I'll help you find someone to watch them."

  "I can do it."

  "I feel responsible."

  "You're not responsible for my daughters."

  Her expression shuttered and her gaze lowered. She flattened her hands on her knees. "Okay." She studied the backs of her ringless fingers. "I think some of the horses are going to pull a good price. I'll be able to pay you as soon as they're sold."

  "Our agreement was that we'd settle after the sale of the ranch."

  "This will be faster."

  "I'm not destitute."

  "I want to pay the debt. You did the work."

  "The work's not finished."

  "I know, but—"

  "I found something out for you," he said.

  She met his eyes at last. "What's that?"

  "That tractor you have out there is worth a few thousand dollars. That's one of the first tractors made when they switched over from horses. And it's in excellent shape."

  "Great."

  "I checked around because I didn't want someone to take advantage of you."