He heard footsteps approaching across the concrete. Lifting his head, he saw it was Val. Griff felt she was a secret pleasure to him. She was tall, lithe, her red hair in a ponytail swinging behind her shoulders. Even though she wore typical ranch clothing, Levi’s and a white, short-sleeved tee, they lovingly outlined her body. He wondered as he had many times if she had a man in her life. He’d not heard it come up in table talk and wasn’t about to broach the topic himself. That would have been out of line. He was the hired hand. Not a family member.
“How’s it going?” Val asked, halting and studying the parts of the posthole digger. She tried to quell her reaction to Griff’s gaze. On his hands and knees, a wooden toolbox nearby, he was easy to look at. The light and dark in the barn accentuated the hard planes of his sun-darkened face.
Griff gave her a half smile and he wiped his hands off on a nearby rag. “It’s going.”
“That thing hasn’t been used in years,” Val said. “I’m sure the carburetor needs to be cleaned out or replaced.”
“You’re right,” Griff agreed. He pointed to the engine piece. “I was just starting to pull it apart to see if it’s gummed up. I’m sure it is.” And that meant buying a rebuilt carburetor for the digger. If one could be found.
“Did you try starting it first?”
“I broke the rope trying to get it going. I’ll have to buy a replacement rope in town.” Griff had a tough time keeping his eyes on his work. Val was a powerful draw. Loneliness, having been without a woman for a long time, was part of the allure. Another, which Griff tucked away in his heart, was his appreciation of her as a woman who was not only attractive but had a lot of common sense. Val was nothing like the women he’d had relationships with in New York City. They were beautiful tropical birds in comparison and would never survive the harsh environment of ranch life. Val wore no jewelry, no makeup, not even lipstick. She didn’t need cosmetics. Her lips were a natural pink color. Most of all, he liked her freckles. They made her look like a young girl instead of the mature woman she was.
Val picked up the frayed and broken rope. “Well, this auger is about thirty years old. It’s DOA, dead on arrival.” She squatted in front of him, elbows resting on her thighs, opposite of where he was working. Griff had strong-looking fingers and yet, he expertly opened the engine and delicately began checking it with expert ease. His head was bent and she had a chance to absorb his strong profile. His mouth, which she found delicious, was pursed as he focused on his inspection. Her curiosity got the better of her.
“Do you miss your home?”
“What?” Griff looked up briefly. He saw in Val’s face that she was open to his answer, and she was almost approachable. It was the first time she’d talked to him in a voice other than that of a boss, and it took him by surprise. Recovering, he managed a twisted smile. “New York? No.”
“Why not? You lived there most of your life.”
“I didn’t have a choice as a kid,” he said, his fingers getting oily and dirty as he studied the carburetor. “I do as an adult.”
“Do you think you’d have come back here if you hadn’t lost your job?”
Shrugging, Griff said, “Probably not. But that’s how things happen. Life takes unexpected turns.” He looked up to see her features grow pensive. Did Val know how beautiful her blue eyes were? He wished he could tell her their color reminded him of the deep blue sky after sunset, but Griff thought better of sharing the observation. After all, she was his boss.
“I’m sorry you lost your aunt and uncle. And then to have your business fail. That must have been hard on you.”
“It was a tough time,” Griff agreed. Although it had helped to work with the FBI to help clean up the mess left behind. He’d done it gratis because he felt he’d been partly responsible for the economic collapse. The least he could do was help the FBI understand the inner workings of his and other firms on Wall Street. It had eased his guilt.
“I wonder how anyone could deal with losing all their money at once. Especially millions of dollars.” Val studied him intently and watched his mouth pull in at the corners. Griff was experiencing frustration or pain of some kind over her probing question.
Placing the carburetor into a pan that had some cleaning fluid in it, he said, “My parents didn’t have much money.” My Dad would hunt deer and elk to put meat on our table. We were pretty much raised on wild food. When I got taken back east by my uncle, it was a whole other life for me to adjust to.” Griff glanced up at her. Val’s eyes were readable and he saw so many emotions in them. Heartened that she cared, he decided to open up. “At first, I wasn’t used to the rich foods they gave me. I remember eating too much one time and throwing it up afterward.” Griff added, “I was a poor ranch kid who lived off the land, not off the fat of the land.”
Heart twinging, Val heard the pain in his low voice. He’d laughed, but it wasn’t happy laughter. “I’m sorry. I’ve seen how shock and trauma can change a person’s life in an instant.”
“Being in the Air Force and over in the Middle East, I imagine you saw a lot.”
“Yes, sometimes I saw a lot,” Val murmured. She found the tension utterly disappearing as they talked with one another. Mesmerized, Val realized Griff was a man of many talents and much knowledge. “I had a lot of friends in Iraq. I saw what war did to them. They came out completely changed people.” She met and held his stare. “I was just wondering if, what happened to you at six…do you think it changed you forever?”
The question was incisive and personal. Griff didn’t mind, though. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve ever met to ask me something like that.”
“If it’s too personal,” Val backtracked, “you don’t have to answer it.”
“No, not at all.” Griff managed a partial smile. “It’s kinda nice someone cares enough to ask.” He drowned momentarily in her softened blue eyes. When his gaze dropped to Val’s lips, they parted. Groaning inwardly, Griff felt his attraction to Val grow as he realized she was someone he could honestly talk to. “I changed,” he admitted. “My life took a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. My uncle decreed that I would someday own his Wall Street firm. He had big dreams for me. I went to Harvard because that was his alma mater.”
“That’s quite a plum university,” Val said. “I’ll bet thousands would die for a chance to go to Harvard.”
“I know,” Griff said, retrieving the carburetor from the solution and resting the piece on his knee. He continued to clean it out with a cloth.
“Did you like going to Harvard?”
“Yeah, it was okay.”
Val saw the sudden wistfulness come to his expression. “It wasn’t Wyoming, though?” she guessed.
He met her gaze. “You are uncanny. Do you also mind read?” he teased.
A grin tugged at her lips and Val said, “No, not really.”
“You have a lot of insight. How did you come by that?”
“The details of our lives shape us. As an intelligence officer in the Air Force, we looked at the little details in order to create a larger and more complete picture.”
“Intelligence as in spy work?”
Val said, “Sometimes. Part of my job was working with a drug task force and we would pull raids in Iraq. For the most part, I was safe and I read satellite and drone maps and photographs. I would assess them and then write up reports on what I saw.”
“Then you were in the thick of the fighting?” Griff asked. This was the first time she’d opened up. Griff wondered why today was different. He had so many questions for her but he was gun-shy. He felt his heart open and a silent joy trickled through it. Sitting in the center of a barn, tearing apart an auger and talking with Val was a delicious and unexpected dessert.
“Yes, I was. It gave me personal pleasure to stop drug trafficking in Iraq. I worked with a group of men who were ab
solute professionals. We took down a lot of dealers.”
“Sounds dangerous. Does Miss Gus know what you were doing over there?”
“It got dicey sometimes, but I never felt in serious danger. And I signed papers to not reveal what I did or learned. I didn’t want my grandmother to worry any more than she otherwise would.”
“That makes sense,” Griff agreed. He held up the engine part. “You know anything about mechanics?”
“What ranch kid doesn’t?” She took the part from him and enjoyed the contact with his fingers more than she should have.
Grinning, he said, “I remember working on machinery with my dad. He took Slade and me out with him to the barn from the time we were four. He’d spread the machine parts out on the floor just like this and teach us about every one. And then, he’d challenge us to put the thing back together again.”
Examining the part, Val handed it back to him. “Well, I’m glad, because I think this carburetor is DOA. We’ll need a rebuilt one to replace it.”
Their fingers accidentally grazed one another. Instantly, warmth flowed into Griff’s hand and he was surprised by his reaction. Secretly, he wanted to hold Val’s hand, explore her skin and trail his fingers slowly up her arm, shoulder, and… Griff abruptly stopped where his hunger was taking him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Yes, you’re right.”
“Brent’s Machine Shop carries old engine parts,” Val said. “He’s your best resource for this digger. And if you can’t find anything, we’ll have to put out money to buy a new one.”
Gathering up the parts, Griff said, “Do you want to come with me?” She had never spelled out who was to pay for such items. Sometimes a wrangler merely identified what was needed to be bought but was not entrusted with the checkbook. His question had an ulterior motive, though. Griff wanted more time with Val. She made him feel like a man, and that felt damn good to Griff.
“Sure,” Val said, rising. “Let me tell Gus. She may well have a grocery list, too.”
“Great.” Griff placed the parts in a nearby bucket and wiped his hands on a rag. “I’ll meet you out at the truck in twenty minutes?”
“Yep,” Val said as she left.
Watching her hips sway gently as she walked down the concrete corridor between the empty box stalls, Griff found himself feeling light-headed. That woman had the ability to spin his heart around. Griff cleaned up his mess and put everything away. The late afternoon sun’s slats were now flowing into the barn. He felt like he was walking on air. Would Val continue to be open with him? Or was this just a fluke? Trying to tamp down his burning curiosity about who she was and how she’d come by this ability to see deeply into him, he couldn’t help wanting another chance to speak openly with her on a personal level.
Griff strode out of the barn and placed the bucket in the truck. He’d need these parts in order to buy replacements. Turning, he looked at the rough, natural beauty of the Bar H. The ranch house was huge. The cedar had long ago taken on a silvery patina from the hard, long winters in Wyoming. He climbed the steps, needing to clean up before he left for town.
Entering the foyer, Griff inhaled the fragrances wafting from the kitchen. Gus seemed delighted to be cooking for them and he was grateful. The odor of Middle Eastern spices filled the air. Tonight, Miss Gus was making lamb kebabs. His mouth watered as he quickly moved up the stairs to his room on the second floor. As he opened the door to his room, he heard Gus and Val’s laughter drifting up from the kitchen. A sudden vision came to him, of himself at five years old with his parents in the kitchen at the Tetons Ranch. His father was sharing a joke with their mother. He and Slade were sitting at the table waiting to be served dinner. He recalled the lightness, the happiness that always exuded from their kitchen. His father possessed a deep, booming laughter that rolled out of his chest like thunder. His mother had a good sense of humor. Smiling sadly, Griff gently tucked away the warm memory, quietly closed the door and headed to the bathroom to wash up.
Val was sitting in the driver’s seat of the truck when Griff walked out of the house a few minutes later. He climbed in and shut the squeaking door. He needed to get oil on those hinges.
Val started up the truck and drove slowly down the graveled driveway. Pulling a paper from her blouse pocket, she handed it to him. “Gus gave me a long grocery list.”
Griff chuckled and read it. “Is she buying out half of Albertson’s?” he asked, referring to the local grocery store.
Laughing a little, Val turned the truck onto the main highway leading into Jackson Hole. There were more cars on the road than usual because it was high tourist season. Millions drove through the town in order to reach Yellowstone National Park. “She said we’re running low on everything. And cooking for three is different than cooking for one. Lots of adjustments for her right now.”
Resting his arm on the window frame because the air-conditioning didn’t work on the old truck, Griff said, “Miss Gus is a treasure. You’re lucky to have a grandmother like her.”
“She is,” Val agreed. Giving him a quick glance, she asked, “Are your grandparents still living?”
“No, neither set, unfortunately.”
“You and your brother Slade have really suffered serious family losses.”
Again, Griff was truck by her compassion. “I guess I never looked at it that way,” he admitted.
“Sorry to hear that,” she said, and again Griff was struck by her compassion. “Family is everything. When Gus asked me to take a hardship discharge and come home, I couldn’t refuse her.”
“Miss Gus said you didn’t want to come home.” Griff cautioned himself, because he saw her fine, thin brows dip over his blurted statement. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” And it wasn’t. He wondered if he’d just slammed the door that had magically opened up between them earlier. Damn, why didn’t he think before he spoke?
“That’s okay.” Val sighed. “There’s something about you, Mr. McPherson, that makes it easy for me to talk to you.” She slid him a glance. He looked surprised. The worry in his green eyes dissolved. Did he know how readable he was? Val had learned a long time ago in the military to hide her real feelings. All they wanted from her was her threat-assessment skills or her abilities on a drug raid. Not her insight. Not her personal feelings. Somehow, Griff was pulling them out of her whether she wanted to reveal them or not. What was it about this wrangler?
Giving him a quick smile, Val added, “I guess my years in the military are showing.”
“Doing top secret work,” Griff said, his anxiety reducing as he saw that she wasn’t going to take his comment the wrong way.
“That’s part of it,” Val slowly admitted. She followed the long, flowing curves of the highway. On her right was the river. On her left, a thousan-foot rocky cliff. Wyoming was a wild, beautiful country. Her fingers open and closed around the steering wheel. “The truth is, I didn’t want to come home.” Mouth compressed, she felt an old pain rising up in her again. “I really didn’t. But when Gus broke her hip, I knew….”
Griff watched Val retreat somewhere deep inside of herself. There was an ache in her husky tone. He waited. He needed to keep his curiosity in check and his mouth shut. Watching Val wrestle with something unknown, Griff could see anguish in her expression. And then, it disappeared. She straightened her back a little and gave him an apologetic look.
“I knew that my grandmother couldn’t keep this place going by herself anymore. I guess, deep in my heart, I knew this would happen someday.”
“Coming home?” Griff ventured.
“Yeah.” The word came out hard. Flat.
“I guess, in a sense,” Griff probed gently, “we’ve both been torn from the world we knew and plopped down here once more. For whatever the reason.”
“That’s a very good insight, too,” Val praised. “You’re right—we’re both orphans
of a sort who were forced to come home to an unknown situation.”
“You nailed that one,” Griff said. “When I showed up at Slade’s ranch, he wasn’t really happy to see me. And honestly, I couldn’t blame him.” Mouth turning downward, Griff added, “I need to apologize to him. A long time ago, he called asking me for a loan. The Tetons Ranch was going under. I turned him down, thinking he was a bad loan risk.” Shaking his head, Griff uttered tiredly, “It was so stupid of me not to help him out. What was I thinking? I had millions. All he wanted was fifty thousand dollars to pay off the mortgage. Slade was struggling to keep our family ranch from being lost and a loan would have cured those problems. I was so arrogant then.”
Val couldn’t help her surprise. “You turned your own brother down for a loan?”
Griff said, “I did. It was the worst choice I’ve ever made. And then I was the one who came crawling back to our ranch asking for help.” Griff knew he deserved whatever judgment she may have of the situation. Hearing the disbelief in her voice, he managed a twisted smile. “Just desserts, don’t you think?”
“Karma in action, for sure,” Val agreed. “Wow, you didn’t give him a loan? He is family.”
“I know. I’ve got a lot to atone for,” Griff quietly admitted. “One of the things I’m going to do very soon is go over and make amends. I need to make things right between Slade and me.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Val agreed. She slowed down as they drove into the outskirts of Jackson Hole. “I know it will help heal the wound between the two of you. Think of it as a burr under your collective family saddle. It will keep things raw between you until it’s permanently removed.”
The Wrangler Page 8