The Cowboy And His Baby. Sherryl Woods

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ anyway.

      “You know damned well it’s no bother. I just hope everything’s okay at home. Give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help.”

      “Thanks, Lance.”

      Cody hung up slowly, thinking of the tiny picture that he’d placed in his wallet only moments earlier. Had something happened to Justin James? Or to Kelly? Why else would Jordan call? Damn, but he hated being so far away. What if…He allowed the thought to trail off.

      “Stop imagining the worst and call,” he muttered out loud, finally forcing himself to dial his brother’s number, knowing that this call, whatever it was about, would shatter whatever distance he’d managed to achieve from his past.

      Jordan picked up on the first ring. His voice sounded tired and hoarse.

      “Hey, big brother,” Cody said.

      “Cody, thank God. I was worried sick you wouldn’t get the message for days.”

      Jordan, the most composed man Cody had ever known, sounded shaken. The alarm bells triggered by Lance’s call were clanging even louder now. “What’s wrong?”

      “It’s bad news, Cody. Real bad.”

      Cody sank onto a chair by the kitchen table and braced himself. The last time Jordan had sounded that somber was when their brother Erik had been killed in an accident on Luke’s ranch.

      “Is it Dad?” he asked, hating even to form the words. Harlan Adams was bigger than life. He was immortal—or so Cody had always tried to tell himself. He couldn’t imagine a world in which Harlan wasn’t controlling and manipulating things.

      “No, he’s fine,” Jordan reassured him at once, then amended, “Or at least as well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

      “Dammit, Jordan, spit it out. What the hell has happened?”

      “It’s Mother,” he began, then stopped. He swallowed audibly before adding, “She and Daddy were out riding this morning.”

      He paused again and this time Cody could hear his ragged breathing. It almost sounded as if Jordan were crying, but that couldn’t be. Jordan never cried. None of them did. Harlan had very old-fashioned ideas on the subject of men and tears. He had set a tough example for them, too. He hadn’t shed a single tear when Erik died. He’d just retreated into stony, guilt-ridden silence for months after the loss of his son. The rest of them had coped with their grief dry-eyed, as well. If Erik’s death hadn’t caused Jordan’s cool, macho facade to crack, what on earth had?

      “Jordan, are you okay?” he asked.

      “No. Mother took a bad fall, Cody.”

      Cody felt as if the blood had drained out of him. Hands trembling, he grabbed the edge of the table and held on. “How is she? Is she…”

      “She’s gone, Cody,” Jordan said with a catch in his voice. “She never woke up. She was dead by the time the paramedics got to the ranch.”

      “My God,” he murmured, stunned. Forbidden tears stung his eyes. Ashamed, he wiped at them uselessly. They kept coming, accompanied by a terrible sense of loss. “Are you sure Daddy’s okay? Why aren’t you with him?”

      “Luke and Jessie are over at White Pines now. Luke’s got the funeral arrangements under control. Kelly and I will be going over right after I get off the phone. I wanted to stay here until you called back. How soon can you get here?”

      Cody noticed his brother asked the question as if there were no doubt at all that he would be coming home. “I don’t know,” he said, struggling between duty and the agony that going home promised.

      Disapproving silence greeted the reply. “But you will be here,” Jordan said emphatically. “I’m telling Daddy you’re on your way.”

      Cody rubbed his suddenly pounding head. “I don’t know,” he repeated.

      “Look, this is no time to be indulging in self-pity, little brother,” Jordan snapped impatiently. “Daddy needs you here, probably more than he needs any of the rest of us. He’ll need you to take up some of the slack at White Pines while he pulls himself together. He’s always depended on you. Don’t let him down now.”

      Cody said nothing.

      Jordan finally broke the silence with a sigh. “We’re scheduling the funeral for Saturday,” he said. “Be here, Cody.”

      He hung up before Cody could reply.

      Cody sat in the gathering darkness, silent, unchecked tears streaking down his cheeks. He had no choice and he knew it. Mary Adams might not have been the kind of warm, doting mother a child dreamed of, but Harlan Adams had worshiped her. He could not let his father go through this kind of grief without all of his sons at his side. It was the kind of loyalty that had been ingrained in him since birth. As badly as he wanted to pretend it didn’t matter, he knew better. Nothing mattered more at a time like this.

      He took some small comfort in the odds that said he would probably never even see Melissa. He doubted she would have the nerve to show up at the funeral. She certainly wouldn’t have the audacity to show up at White Pines afterward. It would be okay. He could slip in and out of town before temptation overtook him and he sought out so much as a glimpse of her.

      At least, that’s what he told himself on the long, sad drive back to Texas after he’d cleared his departure with Lance. He’d chosen to drive to delay his arrival as long as possible. Maybe to come to grips with what had happened in private. He’d spend a few days with his family to grieve. A few days to do whatever he could for his father. A few days to spoil his nieces and hold his brand new nephew. A few days to soak up enough memories to last a lifetime.

      With all that going on, Melissa would be the last thing on his mind.

      The very last thing, he vowed with grim determination as he finally turned into the lane to White Pines.

      He slowed his pickup and looked around at the land that he loved, the land he’d hoped one day would be his since Luke’s mile-wide independent streak had sent him chasing after his own dream and his own ranch and Jordan was only interested in oil.

      Even in the dead of winter, it was starkly beautiful, at least to him. He was home and suddenly, despite the sorrow that had drawn him back, he felt at peace for the first time since he’d driven away more than eighteen months before.

      * * *

      Melissa Horton took a break from her job behind the lunch counter at Dolan’s Drugstore and perched on a stool with the weekly newspaper and a cup of coffee. Her attention was riveted to the story of Mary Adams’s tragic riding accident.

      The 55-year-old woman had always been incredibly kind to her. Melissa had figured Mary pitied her because she’d been mooning around Cody for most of her life. Once Mary had even tried to give her some advice. It had turned out to be lousy advice, but Melissa was certain Mary had thought she was doing her a favor.

      Mary had sat her down one afternoon over tea and told her that Cody was taking her for granted. Not that that was news. At any rate, Mary had claimed that the only way Melissa would ever win him would be to make him jealous. СКАЧАТЬ