The Rancher's City Girl. Patricia Johns

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      Cory had missed his father every day of his life. His mother had done an admirable job of raising him, but not a day went by that Cory hadn’t wondered about his dad. He didn’t dare mention his unquenchable curiosity with his mother, though. The few times he’d asked questions about his father, she avoided answering him, and her eyes filled with pain. No boy wanted to hurt his mother. So he wondered silently if his father ever thought about him. He didn’t want to share that right now, though. Not with an old man who cared so little about his existence.

      The old man heaved a guttural cough. Eloise looked in his direction for a moment, then turned her attention back to Cory. “Did you know about your father when you were young?”

      “I didn’t know much. My mother told me I wasn’t to bother about him.”

      “Did you ever want to contact him?” she inquired.

      Cory used to lie in bed at night as a boy, painting mental pictures of some sort of superman who would swoop into his life with a terrific excuse for his lengthy absence. He smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter.”

      “Fathers always matter,” she replied.

      The old man sat limply in his wheelchair, sunken eyes regarding him with trepidation. Cory smiled his thanks to the pretty nurse and met the old man’s wary gaze.

      “Did you ever think about me?” he asked.

      His father was silent.

      “Did you know when I was born?”

      “Your mother sent me a card. At the office. You were born February twelfth.”

      “So you knew you had a son.”

      He nodded. “I knew.” He licked his dry lips with a pasty tongue. “Of course I thought about you. You can’t just forget something like that.”

      “But you never contacted me.”

      His father shook his head. “It was for the best.”

      For the best. Cory dropped his gaze. How it could possibly be in his best interest, he couldn’t tell. Unless the old man was referring to his own interests.

      “You didn’t pay any child support, either,” he pointed out. “My mother could have used the extra money.”

      “And you want that money now?” the old man asked.

      “I’m not asking for anything from you.” Cory squeezed his hat between his hands, anger rising like a salve to cover that old aching wound inside of him. “I’m the sole owner of a large chunk of property, and I can assure you that I’m not sniffing around for cash.”

      His father’s shoulders slumped and he leaned back in his chair with a wheeze. His lids drooped. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m tired.”

      The old man didn’t seem to be addressing anyone in particular, but Eloise rose from her seat and bent down next to him.

      “Would you like to go back to bed?” she asked quietly.

      “No, I want to just sit there in the sun.”

      She released the locks on his wheels and eased his chair toward a pool of sunlight by a window. She bent and spoke to him in low tones. Cory stood and moved toward the door, watching the young woman as she conversed with his father. Her expression remained respectful, and after a few moments, she pulled a blanket over his knees and came back to the door where Cory waited for her.

      “He doesn’t have a lot of strength left,” she explained softly.

      “I doubt he’d have responded much differently if he were well,” Cory replied.

      She shrugged. “Maybe not. I’m sorry about all this.”

      Cory opened the front door. “Care to walk me out, ma’am?”

      She chuckled at his formality.

      “Mr. Bessler, I’ll be back in just a moment,” she said and stepped outside.

      Once in the warm summer sunlight, Cory inhaled the fresh air in relief. Inside the house smelled of sickness and medicine, and as he stepped out, he longed to get back to the wide-open spaces of pasture and farmland—back to his more immediate problem of a medic who quit without notice, leaving the ranch without any medical care. He turned his attention to the petite nurse.

      “Thank you,” he said quietly. “You risked a lot to make that happen.”

      She arched her eyebrows at him quizzically. “I did?”

      “Your job.”

      “Oh, that.” Color rose in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Cory. I’ve still got a job. He and I have a bit of a complicated relationship, but it works.”

      “That’s a relief.” He shot her a wry grin. “I don’t like to see a lady treated that way.”

      “He’s dying.” She paused, silent for a moment. “He’s scared.”

      “You still made a conversation with him possible,” he said. “I’m grateful.”

      “You’re very welcome. Are you coming back?”

      “I can’t stay.” His mind flooded with things he had to do. He’d driven out to Haggerston at the worst time possible.

      Eloise blinked in surprise. “That’s too bad. I’d hoped you two might have more time together.”

      “We’re calving.” He expected those words to suffice, but she didn’t react with the knowing nod he expected.

      “Oh.” The look on her face told him she didn’t understand.

      “It’s busy,” he explained. “Calving is delicate—sometimes the cows need help, sometimes not.” He waved it off. “Suffice it to say, I can’t leave that kind of work to my partner. It’s twenty-four-hour mayhem for the next little while. Not to mention, our medic quit just before I left. I have to get back.”

      “Oh, that makes sense.” Eloise gave him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for making the trip, even for a short stay.”

      A short conversation didn’t even begin to answer all the questions he’d been storing up, but he couldn’t stay longer. Maybe if his father weren’t dying he wouldn’t have felt the urgency, but it was now or never.

      “I...uh—” Cory cleared his throat. “I know my father probably won’t agree to this, but I thought I might invite the two of you to come back with me for a couple of weeks.”

      “To the ranch?”

      “I own about eight hundred acres in Blaine County—Milk River runs right through it. It’s the best that Montana has to offer.” He slapped his hat against his leg, searching for the right words. “I really want to get to know my father better, and I still have all these questions. I mean, not that I could remember them in there.” He looked away for a moment, toward the ill-kept СКАЧАТЬ