Rancher's Deadly Reunion. Beth Cornelison

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       Prologue

      Boyd Valley, Colorado

      The loud, frantic pounding on the front door at 1:00 a.m. boded ill. Pam Summers belted her bathrobe around her and started for the door. Her husband followed at a slower, groggier pace, while their four-month-old yellow Lab gamboled around the foyer and barked excitedly. When Pam looked through the peephole and saw who was there, she gasped at the young man’s beleaguered appearance and snatched open the door.

      “Brady? What are you doing here?” Pam studied her brother-in-law’s disheveled clothes, slumped shoulders and bloodshot eyes with concern. His showing up on their doorstep at this late hour was unusual enough to elicit worry, but his appearance as he stood on their stoop spiked her distress through the roof. She clutched the lapels of her terry-cloth robe closed near her throat. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

      She heard her husband, Scott, walk up behind her, his slippers scuffing on the hardwood floor of the foyer. “Hey, little brother, what’s—Damn! You look like hell.”

      “Can I come in?” Brady asked, his voice as rough as gravel.

      Nerves jangling, Pam opened the door wider to let Brady into their Boyd Valley, Colorado, home. Kip, the puppy, ran out to the yard, while a warm, late-August breeze, redolent with the scents of cut grass and summer rain, followed Brady in. As for her brother-in-law, Brady reeked of beer and something harder.

      “Is it Dad? Has something happened to Dad?” Scott asked as his brother staggered to the couch and dropped heavily onto the cushions.

      “Nah, the old man’s fine.” Brady scrubbed a hand over his bleary face.

      Scott frowned and wrinkled his nose. “You’ve been drinking. A lot by the looks and smell of it.”

      “Yeah, so what?”

      “So...getting drunk is Dad’s thing. I thought you knew better.” He paused a beat. “Did you drive here?”

      Brady said nothing and kept his eyes down.

      “Damn it, Brady!” Scott barked, “You’re not even legal yet. But driving while you’re drunk...that’s unacceptable. It’s stupid and dangerous!”

      Brady squeezed his eyes tightly shut and held his head. “I know.”

      Scott huffed his disgust. “You can sleep here tonight and go home tomorrow. Jeez, I thought you had more sense than to—”

      “I asked Piper to marry me.” Brady’s announcement silenced Scott’s tirade.

      Pam settled on the love seat positioned catty-corner to the couch where Brady had slumped, dazed-looking. Scott eased down beside her, placing a warm hand on her knee.

      “I’m guessing from your demeanor that she turned you down,” Scott said.

      “She’s leavin’. Goin’ to Boston for college. Didn’t wanna be tied down to a good-for-nothin’ ranch hand.”

      Pam blinked her surprise. “She said that? She called you good-for-nothing?”

      “Didn’t have to. It’s kinda obvious. I mean, she’s smart. Got a full scholarship to that fancy school out east. All I do is shovel horseshit and rustle cattle.”

      “Being a ranch hand doesn’t make you good-for-nothing, Brady,” Scott said. “This...feeling sorry for yourself bit isn’t like you. I know you really like Piper, but people leave for college all the time.”

      “I don’t really like her. I love her.” Brady gave them a woeful look. “I want to marry her. But she turned me down. Flat. It’s over.”

      Pam’s heart ached for Scott’s younger brother, but she could see Piper McCall’s side, too. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt, Brady, but Piper’s leaving for college doesn’t have to be the end of your relationship. Give her the space she needs to spread her wings. Eighteen is kinda young to get married. You both have plenty of time to—”

      “What about the baby?” he muttered, his eyes filling with tears. “She thinks I only wanna marry ’cause of the baby. But...I love her. And not just ’cause of the baby like she thinks.”

      Scott exchanged a startled look with Pam, then asked cautiously, “What...baby?”

      “Ours.” He ducked his head and heaved a shuddering sigh. “Mine and Piper’s. She’s pregnant.”

      Something sharp and bitter pierced Pam’s heart. She didn’t want to resent anyone’s pregnancy, but she couldn’t help it. She and Scott had been trying for five years to have a baby—and failing. She worked hard to shove her pain down and focus on the issue at hand. “You...you’re sure? She’s sure?”