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Page 36
“Gabe,” Warren broke in, gasping his name. “It’s Marissa.”
His blood ran cold. “What?”
“Her daddy. Came to town. Taking her home.” Warren gulped a deep breath.
Gabe felt all his own breath leave his body again.
“C’mon,” he said gruffly, “let’s get you out of the wet.”
Warren dismounted, hitched Ranger to a post beside the road and climbed into the pickup with Gabe, who flipped a switch to blast the heat.
“Thanks, boss,” the older hand said, sounding more steady now. “Marissa’s daddy pulled up in this fancy limousine. Wants to lure her away. Offered her a big ol’ house, live-in help for the baby, and a new job in New York City.”
“How do you know?”
“Sarah Jones to Doc to me.”
Gabe nodded. He’d always hated the Dillon grapevine, the way news spread through town faster than a fire through drought-dry sagebrush. It’d worked like that when his mama left. And later, when the woman he was supposed to marry hightailed it out of town.
And yet again, when the woman he had married took off the first time. Now, she was gone once more.
Now, it was so much worse.
What could he offer Marissa that would top what her father could give her? Nothing.
Yeah, the Dillon grapevine never failed.
But he damn well had.
And nature had played one hell of a trick on him.
He’d finally admitted how much he felt for Marissa. He wanted her. Loved her. Needed her.
But he wouldn’t get the chance to let her know.
HEEDLESS OF the wet roadway, Gabe floored the pickup, leaving Warren and Ranger as a speck in his rearview mirror, mashing the gas pedal as if his life depended on it. And it did. If only he could get to town in time. If he could just get to Marissa.
She had to come back to him. To stay with him. He’d do whatever it took. Beg, if need be—and be glad for the chance.
He took the final curve into town in a mudslinging skid, coasted onto Main Street, and almost stood on the brake in confusion. Where the hell was he headed, anyway?
Up ahead outside Sarah’s bookstore, he saw his answer. A fancy-ass stretch limousine, gleaming black in the rain. Heading away from him.
He punched the gas again. Drew up alongside, then gained enough ground to slide in front of the other vehicle and slam on the brake. Tires sucked mud as the driver jerked to a stop.
He jumped out of the pickup and yanked open the limo’s rear door.
A white-haired man in a megabucks suit glared at him. “What is the meaning of this?” Cold as the door handle in Gabe’s hand. Icy as the sleet sliding inside his collar.
“Where’s my wife?”
“I’ll thank you to close the door.”
Not seeing her in the car, Gabe looked around wildly, spotted Marissa hovering near the entrance to The Book Cellar, under the protective overhang.
He walked away, leaving the limo’s door gaping.
Focusing only on Marissa.
As he neared, he saw the suitcase on the ground at her feet. His heart dropped to his boots, but he kept going.
He walked down the stairs and stopped beside her. The door of the bookstore stood halfway open. Just inside sat a neat pile of her suitcases. He nodded toward them and had to force words from his tight throat. “So, you’re moving on.”
She nodded, focused past him, out at the muddy street. “I’m leaving Sarah’s, yes. To go home.”
“For good?”
“I’ve done enough talking, Gabe. I think it’s your turn.”
He reached up to shift his Stetson and, to his surprise, found wet hair instead. He ran his hand through it. “Talking’s not my strong suit. Guess you figured that out.”
She didn’t answer.
Giving him his own, back again. Well, hell, he deserved it. He gestured to the door. “If it’ll keep you here, I’ll talk a blue streak. But I don’t want you turning blue, meanwhile.”
He grabbed her suitcase and followed her into the bookstore. When he shoved the door closed, the bell jangled overhead, startling them both.
She’d sounded about as tightly strung as he felt. He found promise in that.
But her mouth settled in a straight line. Her hands, fingers twined, rested across her belly. And her eyes refused to meet his. “You had something to say?”
He nodded and took a deep breath. If ever in his life he meant to speak something worthwhile, now was the time. He hoped to hell he had what he needed inside him.
“That trip to Vegas—best thing I ever did. And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” The need to convince her loosened his tongue, drove him on. “We’re good together, Marissa. Always have been, from the minute we met. And I’m not meaning just in bed. We had good times that week in Vegas, before everything went wrong. We’ve had good times since. Christmas Eve. Just you and me in front of the tree, together. I want nights like that one again.”
He thought of all she meant to him. Of how empty his life would be—how lost he would be—without her.
“I want you to come back.”
He shrugged, shook his head. “Sweetheart, I couldn’t compete with what your father’s offering, even if I tried. All I can give you is a home. Forever. On my ranch. And in my heart.”
That heart battered his ribs now as he waited. And waited. As she stood, not moving, saying nothing. He felt a rib crack. It had to have, to cause the sudden pain that pierced his chest.
Still, she kept her eyes turned away. But, at last, from under her lashes, he saw the shine of tears.
Finally, she spoke. “This is a sudden change, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. The words took a long time coming, but they were always there. I was wrong, Marissa. Way down inside, the problem didn’t come from me not trusting you to stay. It came from not trusting myself to let somebody else in here.” He touched his chest. “I did, right after I met you. But I was just too slab-headed to admit it to you. Or to myself.”
He sighed. “I shouldn’t have held you up against anyone else. You’re not the same. Never were. I’m sorry for doing that. And for all the times I came to town, checking up on you. You were right about that, too. Another thing I couldn’t admit.”
He tilted his head, willing her to look up. Needing her to meet his eyes. If she didn’t—wouldn’t—he’d drop right there on the spot.
But she did, and the wave of relief almost knocked him out, anyway.
“I think we both have things to feel sorry for, Gabe. I guess I can be…slab-headed, too.” One corner of her mouth curved the slightest bit. It was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “It’s hard to forget the past, and even harder to forgive. Maybe, sometimes, it’s best to let go.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I know. I’d about come to the same conclusion. Let go of the past. Concentrate on the future.”
“I wasn’t sure we could have a future. I thought what we had between us was lust. Sex and sparks.”
“We did. We do.”
She glared at him. But the lopsided smile returned. “Yes, we do. Yet we have so much more. All along, I was trying to keep a physical relationship separate from an emotional one, when really they belong together.”
“That why you asked me to court you?”
“Partly. But mostly because I wanted it.” She shrugged. “I wanted to feel like my life was normal, for once.”
“What’s normal?”
She laughed. “You know, when it comes right down to it, I’m not sure. Neither of us has much experience in normal, do we? At least, as far as being a family.” She touched her belly. “As you pointed out once, we never had the benefit of being raised with both parents.”
“Yeah. And I grew up in a house full of men, till I hired Joe and Mary.”
“Neither of us knows how to be a good parent.”
“Does anybody, till they do it? Then doesn’t it become something natural, successes and failur
es and all?”
“Maybe I was too afraid of the failures. You were right, in the past, about my running away. There were things I couldn’t face, either. Mostly, the fact that I was too much like my mother.”
“Don’t let your daddy brainwash you—”
She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t just him. It was me. I was afraid I was too much like her, and not even capable of loving someone.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Looking at Father, and thinking of my mother, I know where that idea came from. But now I can see how different I am. How different you are, too. Father’s cold inside, Gabe. My mother’s just empty. I’m not either of those things. And neither are you.”
“Hell, no, sweetheart. Not when it comes to each other. And our baby.” He reached out to cover her hand, still resting on her belly. He held her gaze, feeling right. Feeling ready. “I love you, Marissa.”
The half smile tugged at her lips again.
“I know,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I love you, too. I always have.”
He had to shut his eyes, had to brace himself against the rush of thankfulness overwhelming him. She loved him, always. In spite of all he hadn’t done.
It was more than he deserved.
When he opened his eyes again and looked into hers, he saw a tear hanging on her bottom lash. She blinked it away.
“You were right again today, too, Gabe.” Her voice caught on a sob. “I am moving on. But, this time, I’m going back to the ranch to stay, because I know that’s where my home is. With you.”
He swallowed hard, dropped his hands to his sides and pressed them tight. “I want to do this the right way, Marissa. And it isn’t about lust or sparks or sex. It’s about being honest with you. Now, and forever.”
“I like that,” she said.
“Can’t promise I’ll always remember to say pretty words, or to bring you nice things.”
“That’s not what I need, not what I want.” She took a deep breath and stared straight into his eyes. Straight into his soul. “Can you promise to love me?”
“Done.”
“Do you believe that I’ll stay?”
He smiled. “That’s what it all comes down to, isn’t it? The loving. And the trusting.”
“Yes,” she said. Just that.
He drank in the sight of her for a long, long time.
She stood waiting, looking up at him, her hazel eyes dark with emotion but steady and clear.
She was there for him now. Always would be. He knew that.
He reached for her, cradled her hips with his hands. Brushed his thumbs against the sides of her belly. Brought the three of them together, the way they belonged.
“I believe in us, sweetheart,” he said from his heart. “And you can trust me on that.”
Epilogue
One month later
Down the other end of the diner, the heavy glass door swung closed behind Gabe.
“Did y’ever hear the likes of that?” Doc shook his head and slapped his hand on the tabletop.
Across from him, Lily Gannett’s smile blazed.
Two seconds later, Delia set down the coffeepot and slipped into the chair Gabe had left. “Well?”
“Delia! Gabe just came back from Dallas—he bought Marissa an engagement ring! He said he’s going to do things right from now on.”
Delia gave a thumbs-up and grinned. “About time for it.”
Doc snorted. “When you water the grapevine, Lily, get the details straight. What he said was, ‘I’m plannin’ to court her good and proper this time.’” He smiled, proud as if Gabe had been his own son.
He pushed his mug toward Delia. “Fill ’er up, Delia. We’ve got something to celebrate.”
They did, right enough.
Because, considering the way he had once dragged his heels about courting his own wife, Gabe Miller had surely come around.
Three-and-a-half months after that
GABE CLOSED the kitchen door behind him and hung his Stetson on the peg beside the door.
Marissa had turned off the kitchen light, left the one over the sink burning. Meaning she’d headed up to bed already.
He set his boots in one corner and walked out of the room in his socks. She was a light sleeper, he’d come to find out. He chuckled, thinking of those times she’d played possum New Year’s week, pretending to be asleep when he’d come into the bedroom.
No need for that now—though, more often than not lately, she fell asleep shortly after they hit the hay. Fine by him. She’d been awfully tired the past few weeks, with the baby due any day.
He reached for the hallway light, flicked it on.
And found Marissa standing at the top of the stairway, holding a suitcase.
They’d renewed their vows a few months back, in a proper church ceremony. He ran his thumb across the gold ring on his left hand, third finger. Thought of what she’d had inscribed inside.
Forever, M
He stared up at her.
“I’m sorry, Gabe,” she said, “but I have to leave.”
Once, she’d stood there and said that, and his heart had almost broken.
Now, it swelled with joy.
He ran up the steps and took the suitcase from her. Took her by the arm. “It’s time?”
She smiled. “Our son wants to make his entrance.”
“Let’s get moving, then.” He walked her carefully down the stairs and along the hall to the kitchen.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Once, he’d said that to her. “You want to kiss your hardworking husband?”
“Yes.” She grazed his cheek with her lips. “But that’s not it.”
“Call Doc?”
“He’ll be at the hospital.”
“What, then?”
She pointed downward.
“Oh. Yeah.” He grabbed his boots from the corner, nearly poured his feet into them. Grinning, he opened the kitchen door.
The pickup was right outside.
“Did I tell you you’re the best wife I could ever have?”
“Only twelve times this week.”
“I’ll work on it.”
He helped her into the front seat, wrapped the seat belt around her. Then he stood still, just for a moment. Just long enough to give thanks for having her there.
As he knew he would, every day of his life.
When she reached out to touch his cheek, his breath lodged in his throat.
“Did I tell you I’ll never leave you?” she whispered.
With his heart near ready to burst, he had to force himself to sound stern. “Couldn’t prove it by tonight, now, could you?”
“Come on, cowboy.” Laughing, she shook her head. “You know trips to the maternity ward don’t count.”
The Rancher Takes a Family
Judy Christenberry
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU know we’ve got to do something, don’t you, John?”
John Richey looked at his right-hand man, Bill Hobbs, and sighed. “I know we need to, Bill, but I’ve thought and thought, and I can’t come up with any answer except to just make the best of it.”
In spite of his worries he smiled at his baby daughter as he removed the empty bottle from her mouth. She gave him a contented grin worth more than anything money could buy.
Bill persisted. “Damn it, man, we’re risking a big loss with just you, me, Mikey and Jess working the ranch, especially since you and me are only working half days so we can take care of Sugar here.”
“I told you to call her Betsy. That’s her name, after all.”
“You’re
not focusing, John. And I have a solution to our problem even if you don’t.”
John looked up in surprise. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion, but it was the first time Bill had said he had the answer. “What do you mean, you’ve got the solution? What is it?”
“You won’t like it.”
John’s eyebrows soared. “That’s positive.”
“Well, you won’t. But it’s the only way, and it would help someone else out and cure all your ills, too.”
“And you’ve been keeping this miracle to yourself until you thought I was really desperate? I’m beginning to smell a rat, here, Bill.”
“I’ll tell you what it is if you’ll promise to hear me out.”
“Okay, I promise.” He put Betsy on his shoulder and gently patted her back. Almost immediately, Betsy let out an unladylike burp.
“Good girl,” John said with a smile at his nine-month-old daughter.
As if he’d been waiting for that sign, Bill said, “Remember, you promised to hear me out.”
“I remember,” John said, but his stomach was beginning to churn. Something was bad about Bill’s idea.
“You get married again.”
John turned to stare at him. “You’re crazy, old man! That’s not going to happen!”
He stood, with Betsy in his arms, ready to leave the room, but Bill reminded him, “You promised.”
“What kind of job is it, Uncle Bill?” Debra Williams asked hesitantly after finally settling herself in his old truck. The day so far had been hectic, what with taking Andy on his first plane ride—hers, too, for that matter. Even now that they were on terra firma, the trip was still bumpy as the truck bounced along the rutted road to Westlake, Wyoming.
But a rough patch was the least of her worries. Her life had been difficult, but she was a survivor. Always had been. But she wanted more than survival; she wanted to start the life she’d put on hold.
Her dream of being a teacher had been delayed when she’d found herself pregnant in her senior year of high school. Then, when the baby’s father died before their son was born, she’d had to face the hard fact that she was the sole support for herself and Andy until he was grown.