Reed

by R. C. Ryan

  Behind the wheel was Burke Cowley. Burke had spent his younger years tending herds on ranches from Montana to Calgary, until he’d settled on the Malloy ranch, working his way from wrangler to ranch foreman. With his white hair, leathery skin from a lifetime in the weather, and courtly manners, he was a cowboy in the traditional mode. Strong, silent, watchful.

  “Welcome home, Matt.”

  “Thanks, Burke. I see the weather’s turning.” Matt slipped into a battered parka.

  “Springtime in Montana. Shirtsleeves one day, winter gear the next. Was it a good trip?”

  Matt shrugged. “Satisfying. Is everyone home?”

  “You bet.” Burke nodded. “By now they’ve finished their chores and they’re just waiting for you so they can enjoy the special dinner Yancy’s been cooking all afternoon.”

  Matt was smiling as they drove along the wide gravel driveway that circled the barns before leading to the rear of the ranch house.

  As Matt stepped down from the truck, he turned. “You coming in?”

  Burke grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll just park this in the barn and be back in no time.”

  Matt hauled his luggage up the back-porch steps, experiencing the same little thrill of pleasure he always felt whenever he returned to his family home.

  “Matthew.” His grandmother was the first to greet him as he stepped inside and dropped his luggage in the mudroom.

  Matt simply stared. “Gram Gracie, you never age.”

  “Go on. Look at all this gray hair.”

  Despite the strands of gray in her dark hair, she was as trim as a girl. She was wearing her trademark ankle-skimming denim skirt, Western boots, and a cotton shirt the color of a ripe plum, the sleeves rolled to the elbows.

  She flew into his arms and hugged him before drawing a little away to look into his eyes. “I missed you.”

  “No more than I missed you.”

  Matt kept his arm around her as they made their way into the kitchen. “Hey, Yancy.”

  At his words the cook and housekeeper, who stood all of five feet two, his salt-and-pepper hair cut in a Dutch-boy bob, set aside a pair of oven mitts before hurrying over to extend his hand. “Welcome home, Matt.”

  “Thanks. I’ve missed this. And missed your cooking. Something smells wonderful.”

  The cook’s face softened into a mile-wide smile. “I’ve fixed your favorite.”

  “Yancy’s Fancy Chicken?” Matt used the term he’d used since childhood to describe the cook’s special chicken dish that never failed to bring compliments. “If I’d known, I’d’ve had the pilot get me here even faster.”

  They were enjoying a shared laugh when a handsome man with a lion’s mane of white hair entered from the dining room. Gracie’s father paused for a moment. Standing ramrod straight, his starched white shirt and perfectly tailored gray pants brightened by a cherry-red silk scarf knotted at his throat, Nelson LaRou looked exactly like the director he’d once been, who had commanded an array of Hollywood’s rich and famous.

  He hurried toward them. “Welcome home, Matthew.”

  “Thanks, Great One.” Matt ignored the outstretched hand and gathered his great-grandfather into his arms for a bear hug.

  Though the old man remained straight backed, his stern countenance softened into a smile. It had taken him years here on the ranch to accept such casual signs of affection. In truth, he was still learning. And he liked it more than he would ever admit. Just as he loved the nickname the boys had given him all those years ago. Great-grandfather was just too long. They’d shortened it to Great One, but he sensed that it was more than a title. It spoke of the esteem in which they held him, which tickled him no end.

  He cleared his throat. “How was Rome?”

  “As amazing as ever. I wish you’d have come with me. Vittorio’s wife took me on a tour of her family’s vineyards. Every time I sampled another wine, I thought of you and all those fancy wines you brought from your places in Connecticut and California.”

  Nelson crossed to his favorite chair. “I hope you thought enough of me to bring some home with you.”

  “I’m having it shipped.”

  “It flipped?” He turned, cupping a hand to his ear. “Can you flip some my way?”

  “Shipped, Great One. It’s being shipped from Italy.”

  “Good. Good.” Nelson settled into a comfortable easy chair in front of a huge stone fireplace just as the rest of the family began arriving.

  The family’s often-absent son Luke ambled in from the barn and rolled his sleeves, washing up at the big sink in the mudroom. Where Matt was tall and lean, his dark hair cut short for his trip to Rome, Luke was more muscular, honed by his never-ending treks to the mountains that called to him. Thick, long hair streamed over his collar.

  He hurried over to welcome his brother back. “Another tough assignment, right, Matt?”

  “Right. But somebody has to do it. And I manfully accepted the challenge.”

  The two were still sharing grins when Reed strolled down the stairs and clapped Matt on the shoulder. Tall, wiry, with his long hair tied back in a ponytail and his rough beard in need of a trim, their youngest brother looked as though he’d just come in from months in the wilderness. “You’re alone? I was hoping you’d bring a couple of Italian beauties with you.”

  “Wishful thinking, little brother. You’ll have to go to Rome and do your own shopping.”

  “That works for me. Next time you’re heading to Italy, you’ve got a traveling companion.”

  “You always say that, until it’s time to actually go. Then you realize you’ll need to wear a suit and tie and get a real haircut, and you find way too many things that need your attention here on the ranch.”

  Reed gave a mock sigh. “The trials of a cowboy. Never enough time for the ladies.” He looked up. “Speaking of which, here’s the ultimate cowboy now.” He grinned at the handsome man in faded denims and plaid shirt strolling into the kitchen. “When’s the last time you took a pretty lady out to dinner, Colin?”

  His uncle was already shaking his head, sending curly dark hair spilling over his forehead. “So many females, so little time.” He grabbed Matt in a bear hug. “’Bout time you got your hide back here. I was beginning to think you’d been seduced into moving to Rome permanently.”

  “I did give it some thought. But then I wondered who’d handle all the family business if I just up and relocated.”

  Matt’s grandfather, Frank, chose that moment to walk in from the hallway. It was easy to see where his son and grandsons got their handsome Irish looks. From his twinkling blue eyes to his towering frame, he was every inch the successful rancher who’d tamed this rough land with sheer sweat and tears. Though his hair was streaked with gray and his stride was a bit slower, he was still able to work alongside his wranglers without missing a beat.

  With a wink at his wife, he reached up and ruffled Matt’s hair the way he had when his grandsons were little. “Any day you get ready to walk away, don’t you worry, sonny boy. I can still negotiate contracts on behalf of the family business.”

  “Or hire a staff of lawyers to handle it for you.”

  At Matt’s words, Frank pretended to groan. “You think it would take a staff to replace you, sonny boy?”

  “At least a staff. Maybe an army.” Matt grinned good-naturedly before accepting a longneck from Yancy’s tray.

  The others followed suit. Nelson accepted a martini, which Yancy had learned to make to the old man’s specific directions.

  When old Burke walked in, the family was complete. They touched drinks in a salute, and tipped them up to drink.

  Matt looked around and felt his heart swell. He never grew tired of this scene. His brothers, his uncle, his grandparents, and his great-grandfather all here, as they’d been since he was a kid, surrounding him with love. Yancy cooking. Burke standing just slightly outside the circle, like a fierce, vigilant guardian angel.

  Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the
tops of the mountains in the distance were gilded with gold and pink and mauve shadows as the sun began to set.

  Life, he thought, didn’t get much better.

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  At Yancy’s familiar words, they circled the big, wooden harvest table and took their places. Frank sat at the head, with his Gracie girl at his right and their son, Colin, to his left. Matt sat beside Colin, with Burke beside him. Luke and Reed faced them on the other side, with Nelson holding court at the other end of the table.

  After passing around platters of tender, marinated chicken, potatoes au gratin, and green beans fresh from the garden, Yancy took his place next to Reed.

  Matt took a bite of chicken and gave a sigh of pleasure. “Yancy, after all that great Italian food, this is a real treat. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this.”

  The cook’s still-boyish face creased into a smile of pleasure at Matt’s words.

  “Okay.” Luke pinned his older brother with a look. “Enough about the food. I want to know what happened with Mazzola International. Are they in?”

  Matt put aside his fork before nodding. “They’re in.”

  “They signed a contract?”

  “Their lawyers still have some work to do. But Vittorio and I shook on it. And that’s good enough for me.”

  Luke reached over to high-five his brother.

  Matt laughed as he looked around the table at the others. “I figured that news would make Luke’s day.”

  Colin shot a meaningful look at his nephew. “Does this mean you intend to give up all those reckless pursuits and settle down to raise cattle?”

  “Reckless pursuits?” Luke arched a brow.

  His uncle narrowed his gaze. “I caught a glimpse of you on your Harley, heading into the wilderness. You were doing one of your daredevil Evel Knievel imitations, as I recall.”

  Luke gave one of his famous rogue grins. “The way I see it, jumping a motorcycle off a cliff, or hiking through the mountains with nothing more than a camera, a rifle, and a bedroll”—he turned to his grandmother—“searching for that elusive white mustang stallion you’ve been tracking for years, is no distraction from work. They help prepare me to be a better cowboy.”

  “Or an aimless drifter,” his great-grandfather muttered.

  Luke’s grin widened. “There’s nothing aimless about it, Great One. It’s preparing me for whatever life throws at me.” He turned to Matt. “Enough about me. Tell us more about Rome.”

  Matt paused for dramatic effect before saying, “I brought back a little something for you, too, Reed.”

  Their younger brother looked up in surprise before narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Okay. Give.”

  “I know how you’ve been hoping to make a mark in the green industry…”

  Reed nodded. “Organic. Pure beef with no hormones, no antibiotics.”

  “Exactly. Leone Industries has agreed to a limited contract, to test the market. If they can see enough profit, they’ll sign for the long term.” He studied the excitement that had leapt into his brother’s eyes. “Just remember. It’s only a limited contract until they test the market.”

  “It’s a foot in the door.” Reed sat back, too excited to finish his meal. “And there’s an entire generation of buyers out there just waiting for this. If Leone Industries will give it a fair trial, this will become the gold standard for prime beef. And we’ll be there first.”

  “Hah.” Nelson sipped his martini and frowned. “Food fanatics. That’s what they are. Now in my day—”

  “Not now, Dad.” Grace kept her tone light, but there was a hint of steel in her words. “Let Reed enjoy the moment. This is something he’s been preparing for since he was barely out of his teens.”

  “You got that right, Gracie girl.” Frank Malloy patted his wife’s hand before turning to his grandson. “You realize this means you’ll have to work twice as hard to see that you have enough healthy cattle to fulfill this contract with Leone.”

  “I don’t mind the work, Grandpop.”

  “I know you don’t, sonny boy, and you never have. You’ve been tending your own herd since you were knee-high to a pup.”

  Reed flushed with pride. “I’ll need to get busy segregating one herd and seeing that they meet all the requirements to be truly organic.”

  “And I’d like to get in one more trip to the mountains and see if I can spot a herd of mustangs for Gram Gracie before I settle down and do my lonesome cowboy routine.”

  At Luke’s deadpan expression, they all burst into laughter.

  “Yeah. That’ll be the day, sonny boy.” Frank squeezed his wife’s hand.

  All of a sudden, with so much good news springing from Matt’s Italian trip, everyone seemed to be talking at once.

  Matt sat back, looking around the table, listening to the chorus of voices, and smiling with satisfaction.

  He’d missed this. All of it.

  He’d grown impatient to get back to his roots.

  But now, seeing the animation on their faces, hearing the excitement in their voices, he knew without a doubt it had all been worth waiting for.

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