by R. C. Ryan
Their eyes went wide. “Can he, Mama? Please,” Casey pleaded.
“I’m sure Griff has better things to do with his time than build a place for you two to play.”
“It won’t take much time at all.” Instead of talking to Juliet, he directed his words toward her sons. “If you boys say yes, I’ll start on it tomorrow.”
“Yes. Yes.” Casey was jumping up and down, while Ethan was content to nod his head.
“Done.” He turned to Mad. “I’m thinking we’ve kept Juliet and the boys out here long enough. You ready to get home?”
Mad was grinning. “I was hoping to give Juliet a lesson on making my famous waffles, or at least a chance to taste her grilled cheese sandwiches. After all, Casey said she makes the best in the world. But I guess I’ll just have to wait for another time.”
Juliet was quick to accept his challenge. “If you come back tomorrow before noon, I promise I’ll make my famous grilled cheese sandwiches. And if there’s time, you can teach me how to make your waffles.”
Mad turned to Griff. “How about it, lad? Are you up to flying me back tomorrow?”
“Why not? While you’re enjoying lunch, I’ll get busy on that play table.”
He stepped up behind Mad’s wheelchair and began pushing it toward the barn door.
“Wait.” Mad held up a hand and called to the two boys, “Ready to ride, lads?”
They hopped up on his lap. Griff pushed them across the concrete floor of the barn and onto the strip of asphalt, halting only when they got to the plane.
After exchanging good-byes, Griff lifted Mad into the plane and stowed his wheelchair behind the seat. As he circled the plane to step into the pilot seat, he saw Juliet herding her sons some distance away, where they stood watching. Without a word he climbed inside.
Minutes later the little plane was airborne. Griff circled once, and tipped the wings while Mad waved to the figures on the ground. Then they headed toward home.
It wasn’t lost on Mad that Juliet and Griff had barely exchanged half a dozen words in all the time they’d been together.
Mad adjusted his sunglasses and sat back, feeling tired. But it was a good tired. He felt like a man who’d climbed a mountain and was now resting at the pinnacle, observing the beauty of the scene below him. “It pains me to admit something to you, lad.”
Griff glanced over.
“I thought Buddy’s widow was turning his family ranch into a spa. Now that I’ve experienced what she’s offering, I see how wrong I was. What she’s offering to those men, and that little girl—” he grinned “—and even to me, is hope. Hope for something better than just a seat on the sidelines, watching the world go by.”
“You thinking about resuming your work on the ranch, Mad?”
At his question, the old man grew silent. Finally, after long moments, he nodded. “Not as a working cowboy, mind you. But I’m thinking that with your ramps and that mechanical lift Juliet has in her barn, I could enjoy a good deal of freedom.”
“You’re thinking of getting one of those lifts?”
Mad shrugged. “Who knows? I may look into it.”
Griff made a gentle turn toward the distant hills. “I have to admit, I’m surprised.”
“No more than I am, lad. This isn’t what I expected when I left home today.”
“What did you expect?”
Another shrug. “I’ll tell you. I thought I’d get some kind of mumbo-jumbo, feel-good lecture about how those of us confined to wheelchairs have to learn to settle for whatever we can get.” His voice lowered as he sorted through his thoughts. “I got all those lectures after my accident. And I was grateful that my son and daughter-in-law were able to take me in and make a place for me in their lives. But even in my chair, I’m me. And the me I know is an old cowboy on horseback, riding across my land, directing my wranglers, herding my cattle.”
He fell silent for a long time before saying, “That’s how I met my Maddy.”
“Your wife?” Griff turned his head and studied his grandfather. “I’ve never heard you mention her name before.”
“That’s because even after all these years, it hurts too much.” Mad stared at the land far below. “Juliet reminds me of her. When we met she was this little thing who looked so small and fragile, I thought she might break if I so much as touched her. But I was wrong, lad. There was nothing fragile about Madeline Gordon. Her parents, like mine, came over from Scotland. She was a nurse, but there were no hospitals here, so far from civilization. She traveled from town to town by horseback, tending the sick everywhere she went.”
“Sounds like a hard life for a woman.”
“Aye. And what a woman. I met her in a fierce snowstorm. I was up in the hills, tending my small herd, when spring turned into winter overnight, and the land was buried in a several feet of snow. ’Twas so high I sought refuge in a cave. By the time I’d found it I was starving and half frozen. I set about starting a fire, and then hunting for game. When I returned to the cave with a deer, Maddy was sitting by the fire, wrapped in my only blanket, with her clothes spread out around the floor of the cave, dripping water and ice, and her horse tethered in a corner of the cave, munching the grass I’d put there for my own mount.”
“Where did she come from?” Griff asked.
“Some far-flung ranch miles from the nearest settlement. She’d smelled my fire, and said it saved her life. We spent the next five days in that tiny space, talking late into the night, sleeping side by side next to the fire without ever touching, and by the time the snow had melted enough to let us return to our lives outside that cave, I knew I had to see her again.” He chuckled. “She’d warned me about her father. A fierce bear of a man who believed in his heart that no man would ever be good enough for his only daughter, who was the light of his life. But I rode for three days and nights to reach his ranch, only to learn that Maddy was off delivering a baby, miles from there. So I spent the next two days with the old man, trying to convince him that I was good enough for his angel.”
“I guess you did a good job of it.”
“You’re wrong there, lad.” Mad chuckled at the memory. “When he asked me how I’d met his daughter, I told the truth. That I’d spent five days and nights in a cave with her. By the time Maddy got home, her father was in a terrible rage and declared me and Maddy unfit to be part of his family. When she told him that we hadn’t done anything wrong, he ordered her to prove it by sending me away. And she did. I wasn’t permitted to see her again for a year. If, he declared, at the end of that time we still wanted to wed, he would consider it.”
“So you survived the year apart?”
“Barely. I was in a terrible fit of temper after a year without the girl of my dreams. But when I rode up, old Grant Gordon declared that I hadn’t done enough penance. He wanted us to wait another year.”
“What did you do, Mad?”
He chuckled. “I witnessed the most amazing sight. Tiny little Maddy standing up to her giant of a father and telling him that if he thought so little of her that he believed she couldn’t make her own choice of a mate, he no longer had a right to order her about like a child. And then she surprised us both by saying she was leaving with me, and that if he hoped to ever meet his grandchildren, he would have to accept me as the man she’d set her cap for. She left that very minute, with nothing but the clothes on her back. We rode into the nearest town and found a preacher. The next day we were home on my poor, miserable ranch, which she promptly turned into a home.”
“Did her father ever accept you?”
Mad nodded. “About a month after we left, he rode up in a wagon, loaded with furniture and clothing that had belonged to his wife. He looked around, said it was obvious that I needed his help, and he moved into a shed on the property. He worked alongside me until the day he died. But he lived long enough to see your father born. ’Twas he who chose the name Murdock for his only grandson, since it was a family name in both our clans. But ’twas also he who chose the
nickname Bear, which stuck. Never again was your father called anything but Bear. And I’ll tell you, lad, Maddy’s father died a happy man.” He paused before adding, “I often think how different my life would have been if Maddy had listened to her father. I’d have never known the happiness that stays with me to this day. Know this, Griff. When you meet the lass of your heart, don’t let anyone or anything come between you. Not even the wisdom of an old man who thinks he knows what’s right for everyone.”
As the MacKenzie Ranch came into view, Griff shifted his attention to bringing the little aircraft down for a smooth landing.
But later, as he lay alone in his bed, Mad’s words come back to him.
He found himself smiling in the darkness.
That sly old man.
And then, his heart lighter than it had been for days, knowing he had the perfect excuse to see Juliet again, he began planning the play table he would build for Casey and Ethan.
If he worked it right, it could end up taking him days. And maybe, just maybe, he could atone for all the pain he’d caused her.
Alone in Bear’s office, Willow sat writing checks and sorting through the various papers that littered the desktop.
Thankfully, Bear had loved his paperwork. He’d kept meticulous books. But that didn’t make the job easier in Willow’s eyes. She would rather do the most odious jobs around the ranch than have to tackle the dreaded paperwork.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand it. She was a smart woman, and she knew about taxes, insurance, repairs necessary for the various pieces of equipment, as well as the maintenance needed on the house, barns, and outbuildings. Not a year went by without the need for a new roof, a new motor, a new tractor or cattle-hauler. But the very act of keeping ledgers irritated her.
Give her a horse and a rope, and turn her loose on the range, and she felt young and free as a girl.
Lock her up in Bear’s office and order her to justify the figures in the ledgers, and she was as jumpy as a cat in a rainstorm.
She’d tried to persuade Brady to take over this necessary drudgery, but he’d argued that it wasn’t his place to know the details of her financial empire. That had been the exclusive territory of Bear, and now it was hers. Period. No arguing.
Dear Brady. Though he was, first and foremost a cowboy, content with the hundreds of chores necessary to the operation of a ranch of this size, he was also the kindest man she’d ever met. He and Bear had bonded as young men, and they had shared a mutual affection and respect. Without Brady Storm’s steady hand directing the wranglers, many of whom were seasonal workers who came and went on a whim, she would have been lost. And now, it was Brady’s calm, reasonable demeanor that kept her going when the paperwork, the legal maze, and the million and one irritating questions surfaced, causing her to lose her confidence. On those rare occasions when she felt alone and vulnerable and was reduced to tears, it was Brady who offered her the comfort of his wise words and strong arms. He’d been sworn to secrecy, so that her family members would never know the depth of her fear or her overwhelming despair.
Her accountants in Helena were honest and efficient. They were more than up to the challenge of preparing tax statements and end-of-the-year worksheets. But they had only the figures that she gave them. The daily tallies were her responsibility. And though she hated the work, she did it because it was necessary to the operation of the ranch.
She studied the latest bank drafts until her eyes felt too heavy. She stowed them for another day, then cleared away the rest of the paperwork and strode out of the office.
Once upstairs, she felt the familiar ache of loss as she climbed into the big bed she’d shared with her beloved Bear.
Despite the tumultuous feelings that pulled and tugged, she was asleep within minutes. And in her dreams, she was riding across a meadow, and watching a man astride a big bay stallion coming toward her.
In her dream there was no paperwork. No drudgery. There was a feeling of complete and utter joy as she urged her mount into a gallop before being enveloped in a warm, loving embrace.
Chapter Nineteen
Griff bounded into the mudroom and eased off his dung-caked boots before rolling his sleeves.
Seeing him, Whit shot him a quizzical look. “Did you already muck the stalls?”
“Yeah. I figured I’d get an early start.”
“Early? It’s barely dawn.”
“It is?” Griff was grinning. “I guess I was awake earlier than I thought.”
Whit turned back toward the kitchen. “If you’ve done the barn chores, I guess that gives me time for another cup of coffee.”
Griff washed up and followed him, helping himself to a tall orange juice before turning to Mad. “Ready for another day at Juliet’s?”
Mad shook his head. “Sorry, lad. You’ll have to go without me.”
At Griff’s arched brow the old man explained. “I promised Brady I’d go to town with him today.”
“What about Juliet’s grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Mad shrugged. “You’ll just have to eat my share. Tell her I’ll try to get back to her ranch next week.”
“Okay.” Griff downed the orange juice in one long swallow. “Your loss.” He turned away, missing the devilish smile on his grandfather’s face.
Griff was unloading the lumber from the rear of the plane when Casey and Ethan came bounding up to greet him.
“Hey, Griff.” Casey peeked inside the plane. “Where’s Grandpa Mad?”
“He couldn’t come today. But he said he’ll try to come with me one day next week.” Griff looked around. “Where’s your mom?”
“Talking to Mr. Turner.”
The two boys watched as Griff hauled the lumber into the barn, then returned for more. When all of it had been unloaded, he strapped on his tool belt and got to work.
Casey pointed. “Why are you putting those together like that?”
“These boards will be the base. The bottom. Everything else will rest on these.”
“What’re those?”
“Those boards will form the top.”
“That doesn’t look like a table.”
“Not yet. But it will when I finish.”
“And then me and Efan can play with our trucks?”
He grinned at the boy’s grammar, before deciding that he’d leave any correction up to Casey’s mother. “That’s right.”
“Hear that, Efan? We’ll have our very own play table and we can bring all our trucks out here.”
A happy smile played on Ethan’s lips. It was, Griff thought, such a pleasure to see this silent, often sad little boy looking happy for a change. For the next hour he sawed wood, nailed it, and pieced it together until the play table began to take shape.
At the sound of voices he looked up. Juliet and Jackie Turner stepped into the barn.
Juliet’s voice was accusing. “There you are. Casey and Ethan, I told you it was all right to say hello to Griff, and then you were supposed to return to the house.”
“But Griff’s making our table. We need to be here to help him.”
“That’s fine, as long as you tell me where you are and what you’re doing. But you never came back, and I had to come looking for you.”
Casey ducked his head. “Sorry.”
Griff got to his feet. “I’m sorry, too. I thought you knew they were with me.”
“Contrary to what you’ve been told, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”
Casey’s eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
Seeing the grin on Griff’s face, Juliet turned away. “You can stay out here with Griff for another hour. Then I’ll expect you to come in for lunch.”
To her retreating back Casey called, “Can we bring Griff?”
“Fine. It’s the least I can do to repay him for all this work.”
The tone of her voice didn’t match the words. Griff realized they were back where they’d started. She was annoyed that he was here, and whatever he did to make it
up to her wasn’t going to be enough.
Jackie remained after Juliet had gone.
Griff shook his hand. “How are things going, Jackie?”
“Better’n they were, but not nearly good enough yet.”
“Well, however much you can do to help, I’m sure Juliet’s grateful just to have someone ease the burden.”
The older man watched as the two little boys began chasing one another around the barn. “I don’t know how she does it. Since I’ve started here, I’ve never seen that young woman stop. She does the work of three, and still this place keeps beating her back. Solve one problem, two more crop up.”
Griff raised a brow. “What’s wrong now?”
“What isn’t?” Jackie pointed. “That house is falling down around her. The roof leaks. The plumbing’s stopped up. The lights flicker on and off. This barn roof is practically bare. The bunkhouse where I’m staying has cracks in the wall big enough for critters to climb through. The range shacks are barely habitable.”
After listening to the litany of complaints, Griff repeated some of the things Mad had said he would do if he were in charge.
Jackie listened politely, digesting everything before scratching his head. “I like the way Mad thinks.” He nodded. “A couple of those suggestions just might be a starting point.” He offered a handshake. “Thanks, son. I appreciate you relaying that to me.” He turned away. “Now I’d better start tackling that mountain of work.”
A short time later, as Griff finished up the base of the table, Juliet stepped into the barn.
Her tone was gentler, as though she’d had a talk with herself and decided to call a truce. “Lunch is ready. I made grilled cheese sandwiches. And Griff, you’re welcome to join us. I made plenty.”
He set aside his tool belt and trailed the two little boys to the house where he bent to the sink and washed before stepping into the kitchen.
Remembering Jackie’s words, he took the time to look around, seeing the dark stain along one wall, indicating a leak in the roof, and noting the fact that Juliet had to unplug the coffeemaker before plugging in the can opener.