The Price of Honor

by Janis Reams Hudson

  She didn’t care for that smirk in his tone and on his face. No sir, she did not. “Your daddy taught you a few other things, too, that you chose to ignore, like honesty, integrity, fidelity.”

  “I wondered how long it would take you to bring that up,” he said grimly.

  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her face to the sun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  She shook her head. “There’s no point.” Opening her eyes, she looked at him solemnly. “It was a long time ago. I only came over to make sure you know that your dad had no intention of selling this ranch.”

  “I never thought he did.”

  “Oh.” Feeling suddenly foolish, she flapped her hands against her thighs. “Oh. Well. I just wanted to make sure. That you didn’t believe what Mavis was telling you.”

  “I didn’t. I know—” He stopped, swallowed. “Knew him better than that.”

  “He considered Standing Elk to be Cody’s heritage.” Shut up, Rachel. Just shut up and get out of here. You said what you came to say.

  “He told you that?” Grady asked, clearly surprised.

  She nodded. “A couple of weeks ago. Your father and I were friends, Grady. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  Grady shook his head and looked down at the ground, then quickly looked back up at her. “I was under the impression that Cody and I were off-limits as a topic of conversation between the two of you. That you didn’t want to hear anything about us.”

  Rachel felt a blush stain her cheeks. She felt as though she’d just been caught doing something shameful or embarrassing. And that was just plain nonsense. After what Grady had done to her, she’d had every right to refuse to listen to his father sing his praises.

  “That’s true,” she told him with an edge to her voice. “After you left town, I didn’t want to know anything about you. Not where you were or what you were doing, or who you were doing it with.”

  Grady’s head jerked slightly, as if he’d just been slapped. Rachel wished she could take satisfaction in that. Lord knew he had it coming. But somehow the satisfaction she once thought she would feel at tossing his misdeeds back in his face simply wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it left her feeling off-center, as if the ground were suddenly two inches lower than it had been.

  “Your dad didn’t mention you when he brought up the subject of the ranch,” she said. “He was just talking about all the things that needed doing around the place and how he wanted to keep it in good shape to pass along to his grandson. He was not thinking of selling it.”

  “Okay.”

  She wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to know. It was none of her business. She opened her mouth to say goodbye. Instead, the question she wasn’t going to ask came out. “Are you really going to stay?”

  He stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and threw his weight onto one leg, taking on that cocky, sexy stance that used to send her teenage hormones into overdrive. How odd that it seemed to have the same effect on her now, when she wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Never mind,” she said in a rush. “It’s none of my business. I just wanted you to know that Mavis was lying.”

  He narrowed one eye and looked at her oddly. “Was she lying about…dating him, too?”

  Rachel held up both hands and took a step backward. “About that, I have no idea.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t want to know. But surely he had better taste than that.”

  Grady almost laughed. She could see him choking it back.

  “Well,” she said, taking another step back. “I better get back to work.” Then she added solemnly, “I’m really sorry about David and your dad. We’ll all miss them.”

  He gave her a nod. “Thanks.”

  There never had been much of a separation between employer and employee on Standing Elk Ranch, not when it came to the Lewises and the Helmses. For as far back as Grady could remember, Alma and Joe always ate with the family at what they called “the big house.”

  This evening was no different, but the group was much smaller than it used to be. Now there was only Grady, Cody, Alma and Joe. At least Alma had taken the center leaf out of the table so the absence of Ray and David wasn’t so painfully obvious.

  While passing the bowl of mashed potatoes to her husband, Alma looked across the table at Grady. “You’re not really selling, are you?”

  “The ranch?” Grady asked. “Oh. You mean Mavis. Word still travels at the speed of light around here, I see.”

  “Rachel told Louise and Louise told me that Mavis cornered you at the gas station. So, are you?”

  “Selling the ranch? Of course not.”

  Some of the stiffness in Alma’s shoulders seemed to relax. “You’re staying, then?”

  Grady couldn’t count the times he had asked himself that same question. Particularly since the reading of the will yesterday, and after Rachel’s visit a few hours ago. But when he thought of the ranch, he thought of Cody, of Alma and Joe and Louise. And Rachel.

  No, don’t think about Rachel.

  But it was impossible not to think about her, about the way the breeze had played with her hair, the way the sun made it shine. The way her jeans hugged her hips.

  Oh, yeah, right. Like you’ll ever get your hands on those hips again, buddy.

  But a man could dream. And he had. For five long, lonely years. Futile, fruitless dreams of what once was, what might have been.

  Dammit, he didn’t want to want her. Didn’t want her, and wouldn’t. And he certainly wasn’t going to let thoughts of her influence his decision whether or not to move home.

  Home. That was the telling thought. He hadn’t lived here in five years, yet he still thought of it as home. It still felt like home.

  It was time to admit, Grady realized, that he’d been headed back, wanting to come home more than anything, since the day he left. But he had vowed to keep Cody as far away as he could from Wyatt County as long as Gene Martin still held a position of power there. The twenty-first century might be stretched out before them, but some aspects of Wyatt County still ran more like the nineteenth. The county sheriff could, if he was careful, get away with murder. Literally.

  But Grady had made certain years ago that Martin would never be able—legally, at least—to carry out his threat of having his daughter’s son put up for adoption. It was that threat, and the realization that the district judge was Martin’s cousin and between the two of them they had the clout and the connections to pull it off, that had made Grady take Cody and run. Martin had said that as long as he never had to look at his daughter’s illegitimate part-Indian offspring, he’d leave the Lewis family alone. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay.

  Grady had looked into the man’s eyes that night, less than an hour after LaVerne had died giving birth to Cody, and had known the man would do what he said. Nothing would stop him.

  So Grady had taken Cody. He’d ended up about as far from Wyatt County as he could go without ending up in the ocean. Even then, it had been damn close. He’d ended up in Monterey, California, training horses on a top ranch.

  He hadn’t expected to be gone five years. A few months, he had figured. Enough time to make sure that his name as father on Cody’s birth certificate was legal enough to prevent Martin from taking the baby. But it had taken time, and the longer it took, the easier it had become to stay away. Especially every time he remembered the disappointment in his father’s eyes upon learning about the baby. And the pain in Rachel’s. Both of them had refused to listen to him.

  At least his dad had given him his car to drive when he left, instead of the old pickup Grady had driven home from college. The pickup never would have made it. The car had done just fine for three years before he traded it in on a newer pickup.

  And now, after five years, he was back. Home.

  He’d thought about staying. Last night he had pored over the ranch books to see what kind of shape things wer
e in. While they wouldn’t be able to live lavishly—they never had—the ranch would support him and Cody with no trouble.

  All that remained was the final decision.

  “Pard,” he said, turning to Cody.

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “What would you think if we went home, packed up our gear, and came back here.”

  “You mean to live?”

  “That’s what I mean.”

  Cody frowned. “Who would be our boss?”

  “I would.”

  “You would? You would be our boss?”

  “That’s right. What do you think?”

  “Who’d be my keeper?”

  Joe chuckled at that.

  “Well,” Grady said, “we’d have to ask her, but my guess is it would be Alma.”

  Cody’s eyes widened. “No foolin’? And could I go see Jason and Clay and Grant sometimes, and could they come see me, and could I have my own horse and maybe a dog, too?”

  Joe clapped a hand to Grady’s back. “Looks to me like you’re staying, boy.”

  “Are we?” Cody wiggled out of his chair and jumped up and down. “Are we, Dad?”

  Grady looked at Alma. “Are you up to the challenge of another generation of Lewis boys?” Grady asked.

  Alma’s eyes misted. “You mean it? You’re moving home? For good?”

  “If I can find the right person to look after my pard, here.”

  “You wanna be my keeper, Alma? Huh, do ya, do ya?”

  “Oh, praise the Lord!” Alma cried. She rushed around the table and kissed Grady smack on the lips. “It’s about time. Oh…” Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up toward the ceiling. Toward heaven. “You hear that Mary? Ray? Your boys are coming home for good. I’ve got me another young Lewis rascal to take care of.”

  Grady felt his throat tighten. “Thank you, Alma.”

  She smiled, looked down at Cody, then back at him. “No, Grady, thank you.”

  Chapter Four

  It wasn’t the sight of Louise seated at her desk and laughing that surprised Rachel and halted her in her tracks the next morning when she arrived at the clinic. It was the sight of Grady sitting on the corner of the desk.

  “Good morning,” Louise said cheerfully. “Our new partner says he has something to tell us.”

  “Oh?” Rachel forced herself to move toward the cabinet behind the counter and put her purse away. She silently scolded herself for her rapid pulse and shaking hands, both of which had started the instant she saw him. It was just Grady. She’d seen him several times in the last few days. Her reaction was ridiculous, and it simply had to stop. Just as soon as she figured out how to control it.

  The little lecture didn’t help. As she turned back toward Louise and Grady she clasped her hands behind her back to hide their trembling and looked at Louise. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m staying,” Grady stated.

  Rachel hadn’t wanted to look directly at him if she could avoid it, but at his words, her gaze snapped to his.

  “Isn’t that wonderful?” Louise said.

  Was it? What was Rachel supposed to say? Grady was staying. After five years, he was back, and he was staying. He would live right next door to the place where she spent her days. He owned the majority of the clinic. They were partners. Neighbors.

  She’d known it was coming, hadn’t she? How could he not stay?

  It’s nothing to you if he stays. He’s nothing to you.

  She was going to see him often, would constantly run into him, hear people talk about him.

  “Nothing to say?” he asked her.

  Not a thing, she thought, half frantic, half dazed. Or was it half angry, half—

  No. She was not angry, nor was she glad. She wasn’t even ambiguous, if that was possible. “Your dad would be glad.” Oh, and wasn’t that brilliant? “Alma and Joe must be thrilled.”

  Grady gave a slight shrug and looked away. “As far as the clinic goes, I doubt I’ll ever have much to say about it. I’m not a vet, nor do I know much about running a business. The only thing I’ll say is that you need to replace the receptionist who quit last month, and you need at least one other doctor here.”

  Rachel prickled up over that. “You think I can’t handle it?”

  “I’m sure you’re a good vet. My dad wouldn’t have had you here if you weren’t. But he always said there was too much work in Wyatt County for one vet. He hired another one whenever he could get somebody to come here. Do you know of another doctor you could hire?”

  Now she felt foolish to have thought he’d been criticizing her. “I can probably find someone.”

  “Good.” He turned to Louise. “As for taking out the trash, you’re on your own for the next week or so. We’ve got to go back to California and haul our belongings home.”

  “Cody’s going with you?” Louise asked. “That’s an awfully long trip for such a little thing, especially when he just made it last week.”

  “I know. I gave him his choice. He wants to pack his own things and say goodbye to his friends.”

  The phone on Louise’s desk rang.

  Grady stood and stepped away from the desk. “I’ll let you two get to work.”

  “Drive safely,” Louise told him.

  While Louise took the call, Grady left, and Rachel went to the back room, out of Louise’s line of vision.

  He’s staying.

  The week following Grady’s announcement was a hectic one for Rachel, proving Grady’s point that the clinic needed another vet on staff. Between pets being brought into the clinic and calls on farms and ranches to work on cattle and horses, and even one annoying Don Juan of a goat named Harley, not to mention the record-keeping that all this work required, Rachel was run ragged. She didn’t have much time to think about Grady moving home, and for that she was grateful.

  The work was exhausting yet exhilarating. It was her lifelong dream come true. If part of that dream was missing, at least she was still able to practice her chosen profession. She would forever miss Dr. Ray, but she liked to pretend that he was watching over her shoulder. She knew there would be many times she would wish he really was, so she could ask his advice and rely on his vast experience to help her help the animals in her care.

  And if the other part of her dream had been to work side by side with Grady, well, she’d given up on that idea a long, long time ago. She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on it.

  Nor would she dwell on it this day. It was Sunday, and she was headed home. Or rather, Home, with a capital H. That’s how she thought of the Flying Ace, where she’d been born and raised.

  Rachel didn’t live on the Flying Ace any longer. Hadn’t, really, since she’d started college seven years ago. Even most of her summers during college had been spent working in the school’s veterinary lab where she could gain experience she knew would prove useful in her career. But when she’d received her veterinary license a few weeks ago and come home to Wyatt County for good, her brothers had surprised her—completely bowled her over—by presenting her with a house in town, barely four miles from Standing Elk Clinic, as her graduation present.

  She’d been stunned by their generosity. Especially considering that they had just finished paying for seven years of her college expenses, insisting that she put her own portion of the Flying Ace income away in savings and let it build.

  So now she had a nice nest egg—invested in mutual funds; no tame savings account for her—and a comfortable, pretty two-bedroom house in town. Plus she still had her share of the Flying Ace, she reminded herself as she turned off the highway onto the ranch road. She slowed her little red sports car, which she’d bought two weeks ago from Belinda. In theory, she slowed to take the cattle guard at a safe speed in the low-slung car. In fact, however, she slowed at the spot no matter what she was driving, because she always got a thrill out of looking up at the Flying Ace sign that arched over the road.

  Lord, how she loved this ranch.

  A rooster tail of du
st sailed up in her wake as she gave the car its head and raced along the gravel road toward the house.

  Rachel’s parents, King and Betty Wilder, had died when Rachel was twelve. Her oldest brother, Ace, had been twenty at the time and had inherited sixty percent of the ranch, with the remaining forty percent divided equally among Jack, Trey, and Rachel.

  Well, actually, King Wilder’s will had not specifically named who got the other forty percent. He had stipulated that it was to be divided equally among all his “other children.”

  According to Jack, the old man had been hedging his bets. The rest of them had come to the same conclusion, but none of them would have said it for fear of offending Jack.

  It was no secret that Jack, the second eldest Wilder offspring, was actually only a half brother to the other three. His mother had been a barmaid over in Cheyenne; his birth had been illegitimate. None of the family, including King, had known of Jack’s existence until the boy’s mother died and his aunt drove up and dumped him, literally, on the doorstep when Jack was twelve.

  Rachel had barely been five when Jack came to live with them, but she remembered the shock, her mother’s tears, her father’s blustering pride at having produced another son. He’d been tickled to death that the boy had been named Jack. As far as King Wilder was concerned, this Jack was a gift, meant to take the place of the baby boy who’d died before reaching his first birthday. That son, who would have been the same age as this Jack, had also been named Jack.

  It was a sign, King had said. This son was meant to take his rightful place on the Flying Ace. King had promptly had Jack’s last name legally changed to Wilder.

  From there the deck of cards fanned out: King, the father—or sire, as he’d liked to call himself—Ace, Jack, Trey and Rachel.

  It had been a major miracle that Rachel hadn’t ended up being named Queen, but her mother, God bless her, had put her foot down at that, just as she’d done when King wanted to name their youngest son Ten. Betty, so the story went, had said, “And if we have another, will he be Nine?” Still grieving over the death of their infant son Jack, and still smarting at learning that her husband had recently had an affair, she was in no mood, as Aunt Mary told the story, to humor King.