With Family In Mind (Saddle Falls Book 1)

by Sharon De Vita

  The reporters were merciless, each one competing for the juiciest tidbit, the meatiest headline or sound bite.

  Jake’s family had been all but hunted.

  He glanced at Rebecca.

  And she, and others like her, were the hunters.

  He’d grown to hate them, the reporters who had compounded their grief, minimized their loss and publicly splashed their private pain in newspapers across the state.

  To have to deal with their personal shock, their grief, their disbelief in such a public way, when it was such a private pain, only exacerbated their loss.

  He’d quickly grown to hate the press, and his feelings hadn’t dulled over the years.

  “Lady, how the hell do you live with yourself?” he roared, eyes flashing. “You spend your life digging into the personal and private lives of other people, using their misfortune, their pain and their misery for your own greedy ends, publishing information for the entire nosy world to cluck and chuckle over. How the hell can you stand to even look at yourself in a mirror?”

  She gasped at his accusation. “How dare you make assumptions about me, something you’ve been doing—incorrectly, I might add—from the moment you opened this door?” Rebecca clenched her hands into fists, fearing she might whack him if she didn’t. “For your information, I’m here with the permission of Tommy Ryan, your grandfather.” It was partially the truth, she reminded herself. Tommy had granted permission for her to do a series of interviews with him and his family.

  That Tommy Ryan didn’t know who she really was, or what she was going to try to discover for her own personal benefit, was a minor sticking point as far as she was concerned. And ethically, her motives were not a problem, since publication of the information she gathered wasn’t the goal; learning the truth for her own personal reasons were. She had no intention of publicly exploiting the Ryans in any way, shape or form.

  They’d suffered more than enough.

  But that didn’t mean she had to continue to suffer.

  Rebecca’s fists clenched tighter at her sides. She would not let this man make her feel guilty for taking care of a personal family matter that had shadowed her life like an ominous thundercloud for as long as she could remember.

  “Lady,” Jake growled. His deep voice seemed to skate along her nerve endings, making her shiver. “What the hell are you talking about?” If his grandfather had invited a reporter to the house, he sure as hell would have told someone.

  “Stop calling me lady,” Rebecca snapped. “I have a name.” Blowing out a breath in an effort to garner some control, she forced herself to stay calm. “As I’m sure you know, if you’ve bothered to come out of the cave you obviously live in, the town of Saddle Falls is about to celebrate its golden jubilee anniversary at the end of the month.”

  “So I’ll bake a cake.”

  She ignored his sarcasm, tried to gather her dignity, then continued. “Edmund Barker, the editor in chief of the Saddle Falls News, wants to do a series of feature articles for the jubilee celebration chronicling the history of Saddle Falls, its growth, as well as the Ryan family’s part in the founding of the town.”

  Jake narrowed his gaze on her again. “And you expect me to believe my grandfather agreed to participate in this…nonsense?” He almost laughed. Pigs would fly before Tommy Ryan ever invited a reporter into their home or opened their lives, their family or their pasts for public consumption. It was simply inconceivable.

  “I really don’t give a darn what you believe,” she snapped, angling her chin defiantly. Her hands were trembling, her heart pounding. Of all the things she’d anticipated today, getting into a shouting match with Jake Ryan had not been one of them. “I’m here because your grandfather agreed to grant me exclusive rights to the Ryan family story.”

  Looking at her, feeling the impact of her words, sent a shudder racing through Jake, setting off shock waves. “I don’t believe you.”

  Her eyes darkened dangerously and her fists clenched tighter. The urge to punch this man in his arrogant, insufferable nose was nearly overwhelming. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  Under that icy exterior was heat, the kind of heat that a man longed to lose himself in, Jake realized in surprise. Too bad she was the enemy, he thought with the smallest hint of regret. “Hey, if the shoe fits—”

  “How dare you!” Clenching her fists tighter, Rebecca glared at him, her eyes warring with his angry male ones. Never in her professional life had her integrity been questioned, and with good reason. She’d built her reputation on fairness, accuracy and honesty. How dare this man question her now!

  “The lassie’s telling the truth, Son.” The deep, booming voice that still carried a lyrical hint of Ireland echoed in the foyer, causing both of them to turn and stare.

  Tommy Ryan, patriarch of the Ryan family, watched the goings-on with amused interest. It looked like the little lassie was holding her own, he thought in delight. Good for her! No trembling mouse, this one. And a looker, too, he thought, letting his gaze shift from his eldest grandson to the young reporter.

  Confused, Jake blinked at his grandfather. “Tommy, are you telling me you invited her here?” Shock made Jake’s voice hitch, and he spared Rebecca a glance. She was staring at his grandfather as if she’d seen a ghost. The heat Jake had seen in her just a moment ago had evaporated like a puff of smoke. She looked fragile, delicate and entirely too vulnerable for his peace of mind.

  He squelched his usual protective instincts, but guilt slid through him anyway. He was rarely rude—it was not his nature—but she’d just triggered something in him. Her presence, the fact that he found her so attractive and then finding out who she really was had sent him into a momentary tailspin.

  “I am indeed, Son.” Drawing himself upward, Tommy grinned as he started down the hall toward them, leaning heavily on his elegant, hand-carved cane.

  In spite of a bad hip, at eighty, Tommy Ryan still had the large, powerful build of the boxer he had once been, a build that had intimidated more than its fair share of stout men over the years.

  Age and infirmity had not stooped his frame, but merely slowed his gait. His hair, which had been a thick, coal-black mane in his youth, was now a thick shock of white framing his face like a halo. His skin was a rich, deep tan, lined from the experience and memories of his long life.

  His mouth was full and firm, and more often than not curved into a grin, as if he had a secret he wasn’t quite ready to share with the world yet. His blue eyes, the color of the deepest sapphires, still twinkled with mischief most of the time.

  There was an air of power and authority radiating from him, the kind that only very successful men possessed.

  He was a man who’d been blessed with more luck than any man deserved, more money than he could ever hope to spend and a family he adored more than life itself.

  But interspersed among the joys of his life had been sorrow. A deep, aching sorrow that no amount of joy could erase.

  And he knew the time had come to try to ease the sorrow and put it to rest once and for all. He wasn’t getting any younger, and before he left this earth, he had some unfinished business to tend to.

  Jesse.

  The thought came unbidden, as it always did, taking him by surprise, catching him off guard. Even after all these years he felt a stab in his heart as sharp as a saber when he thought of his youngest grandson. Gone all these years, but never, ever forgotten. Not for a moment, not for a day.

  Twenty years.

  Yes, it was indeed time, he decided.

  “You must be Rebecca?” Tommy extended both his hands in warm welcome to her. Rebecca could only stare at him as time backpedaled quickly, until she was a frightened, trembling seven-year-old once again.

  Tommy Ryan.

  Memories overwhelmed her and her throat nearly clogged with tears. She’d met Tommy Ryan only once, but she’d never forgotten him, and that was all that was necessary for a shy, lonely, love-starved little girl who desperately wanted to be
accepted, to belong, to be loved.

  Tommy Ryan had come to their little house to speak to her mother shortly after they’d moved in. Rebecca remembered how she’d stood shyly, awkwardly in the small hallway that led from her bedroom into the living room, watching him cautiously.

  Life with her mother, and her mother’s endless assortment of male friends, had made her wary of men at a very young age.

  But Tommy Ryan had been different. Even at seven, she’d recognized kind eyes.

  He’d smiled at her from across the room, but made no move to come closer, as if sensing she was frightened. Instead, he merely talked to her in a soft, soothing voice, smiling at her the whole time. Eventually he’d reached in his pocket and pulled out a small bag of lemon drops he said he kept for his own grandsons. He’d popped one in his mouth, and then, with a welcoming grin, had offered the bag to her.

  Shyly, hesitantly, she’d crossed the room, going to him, accepting and enjoying the sweet treat he offered. He’d gone down on his haunches so they were eye level, still keeping a smile on his face and his voice low and soothing as he talked to her the way one would to a frightened, wounded animal. And he’d let her take her fill of the candy.

  When he’d ruffled her hair, and let out a loud, booming laugh at something she said, she’d decided right then and there that Tommy Ryan was the most wonderful man in the world.

  Overcome, she’d thrown her skinny arms around him and held on, wishing with all her heart that he was her grandfather.

  Seeing him again after so many years, Rebecca was totally unprepared for the flood of emotions that washed over her like a warm, familiar tidal wave, reminding her again of all she had lost, missed out on.

  “Welcome to our home, lass,” Tommy said softly, engulfing her trembling hand in his large one and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good of you to come. Edmund told me to expect you.” Shaking his head, he laughed suddenly, and the booming sound filled the foyer, bringing Rebecca back to the present. “That old coot’s a helluva card cheat. But we’ve been friends for nigh on twenty years now, and I figured it was time to give in and give him the interview he’s been after for nearly all that time.”

  “Tommy?” Still in shock, Jake merely gaped at his grandfather. “You know she’s a reporter?”

  “Course I do, Son.”

  “You’ve agreed to this?” Jake asked in confusion. “And you invited her here?” He frowned suddenly, taking a step closer to his grandfather to look at the beloved face he knew as well as his own. “Have you been drinking?” he asked with a lift of his brow, causing his grandfather to throw back his head and let loose another large, booming laugh that seemed to shake the walls.

  Eyes twinkling, Tommy shook his head. “Wish I could confess, but nay, son, I’ve had nary a drop, not in years, you know that. The doctor would skin me alive.”

  “But why, Tommy?” Shaking his head, Jake rubbed the stubble of his beard again, realizing his hand wasn’t quite steady. “I don’t understand.” He gazed at his grandfather, and a look passed between them that said more than words ever could.

  Watching them, Rebecca felt another stab of pain at the love that flowed so freely, so obviously, so unconditionally between the two men.

  Wanting to allay the fear he saw in his grandson’s eyes, Tommy lifted his hand and laid it on Jake’s broad shoulder. “It’s time, Son,” he said quietly. “Long past, I think. And if it was to be done, I wanted it done right. Edmund will see to it.” Tommy’s gaze softened. “As much as I’d like to pretend otherwise, I’m not going to be around forever, and there’re things…” He hesitated, and his smile dimmed for a brief moment. “Things that need to be said. Done. Wrongs that need to be righted.” He nodded, his gaze shifting to Rebecca for a moment. “Unfinished business, Son,” he added quietly. “We’ve family business to tend to. And I think it’s high time to tell the Ryan family story. The true story,” he added, nodding his white head for emphasis.

  Glancing at Rebecca, Jake felt a shiver roll through him at the thought of allowing this reporter free access to delve, probe and dissect their lives, to dredge up the past, the pain, and then carelessly splatter their family history over the pages of a newspaper for the general public to read, consume and judge.

  It would be like going through Jesse’s disappearance all over again, he feared. And Jake wasn’t certain he could handle it.

  “Mr. Ryan.” Rebecca’s voice was as shaky as her smile, but she felt an enormous sense of relief that there appeared to be no hint of recognition in Tommy’s eyes, either.

  But why should there be? she wondered. She was no longer seven, nor the frightened, shy little girl he’d once known.

  There was nothing left of that little girl, Rebecca reminded herself firmly. She’d died a long time ago— the day her mother had been questioned about Jesse Ryan’s disappearance and her own young life destroyed. Everything had shriveled and died that day: her hopes, her dreams, and more importantly, her innocence.

  Because of the Ryan family her mother had been taken into custody and she’d been abandoned.

  She couldn’t ever forget that.

  Rebecca had been prepared to feel resentment or perhaps even anger at coming face-to-face with the patriarch of the Ryan clan again, knowing what the family had cost her, but she felt not anger or resentment, but an unexpected warmth and a wealth of fondness for a man who had once been so very kind to a very lonely, very frightened little girl.

  Her smile hid the fact that her insides were quaking. “Thank you for inviting me, and for the opportunity to interview you and tell your family story. I appreciate it very much.” There was a small catch in her voice she couldn’t quite disguise.

  Her purely emotional response to Tommy Ryan had caught her off guard; she’d really not been prepared for it. The feelings confused her, reminding her once again of how hopeless and helpless she’d always felt as a child. They weren’t feelings she readily allowed herself to remember, for they were far too painful.

  Even after all these years.

  All of these feelings had thrown her off balance once again, but Rebecca knew she didn’t have time to examine her emotions right now. She simply and quite obviously hadn’t properly or adequately prepared for this type of personal and emotional response, and she considered that a serious lapse.

  No matter, she decided. She’d figure out how to deal with all of these unusual feelings later, when she had time to critically analyze and dissect her response in an unemotional environment.

  She cleared her throat, groping for professionalism. “Mr. Ryan—”

  “It’s Tommy, lass,” he said with a gentle smile. “We don’t stand on formality around here.” He cocked his head, then frowned a bit. “You’re a finelooking lass, I must say, but just a tad too skinny. Doesn’t look like Edmund’s been taking very good care of you.” He chuckled at her stark look of surprise. “Well, I think a meal would do you good.” He glanced at his watch. It had an unusual crest on the face: a deep, bold blue enameled eagle frozen in flight, encircled with an intricate braid of gold. She found it fascinating and couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment.

  “That’s a beautiful watch, Mr. Ryan—Tommy,” she corrected with a smile.

  “Aye, that it is.” He held his wrist up for her to see it better. “It’s the Ryan family crest. An important part of our history and tradition.” His smile came easily. “Something I’ll tell you about once we’ve had some lunch. It’s a good place as any to start.” He glanced around. “It’s much too quiet in here,” he said with a knowing chuckle. “I’m surprised the little lads aren’t howling to fill their bellies.”

  “They have been,” Jake admitted. He still couldn’t believe his grandfather had agreed to allow Rebecca access to the family. “I sent them to wash their hands and take Ruth for a walk.”

  “Aye, and what did you promise them for doing the deed proper, Son?” Eyes twinkling, Tommy glanced at Jake. “Is it ice cream or cookies this time?”


  “Extra ice cream,” Jake admitted with a shameless grin.

  Tommy nodded. “A good bribe works as well as any other, I suppose—if it gets the deed done.” He winked. “It always worked with you.” He turned to Rebecca. “Stay for lunch, Rebecca. It will give us all a chance to become better acquainted before you begin. Details are always worked out best on a full stomach I’ve found.” Tommy took her hand. “Come along now, lass.” He glanced pointedly at Jake, then leaned close to whisper loudly in her ear, “The boy, well, he’s the eldest and I adore him, but his bite’s not nearly as bad as his bark.”

  Feeling a bit more relaxed, Rebecca laughed. “Well, I don’t know that I agree with that,” she said, giving Jake a glance of her own. “I think I was just about to feel his bite.”

  “Nah, lass, Jake’s a softie, especially for a beautiful woman.” Tommy winked at her. “Comes by it naturally—he inherited his charm from me.” He frowned a bit. “But the poor lad can’t cook.” Tommy sighed, his custom-made, gold-handled cane clicking softly on the marble floor as he made his way toward the kitchen with Rebecca in tow. “And if there’s lunch to be made, I suppose I’ll be making it, since Mrs. Taylor, our cook and housekeeper, is off today.”

  Tommy held on to her hand as he led her toward the kitchen. “Now tell me, lass, where is it you’re staying?”

  “At the Saddle Falls Hotel.”

  Tommy laughed. “It’s a Ryan property, lass, one of many, but a bit of a trip back and forth into town, don’t you think? Especially if you’re going to be doing most of your work, your research and interviews and such, out here.” His brows drew together in thought. “There’s a little coach house at the back of the ranch. It’s been empty for years now, but I think with a little elbow grease we can make it comfortable for you. I’m sure if I give Mrs. Taylor a ring—she lives on the ranch too—I can convince her to take a stab at freshening the place up a bit for you.”

  Rebecca’s steps slowed. Shock shifted her heart into double time.

  The little coach house.

  The house she and her mother had once lived in. Rebecca’s eyelids shut and she felt as if the floor dipped beneath her as she valiantly struggled to get her surging emotions under control. With some effort, she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths.