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“We can all be so thankful Grady made it back from Afghanistan. And a hero to boot,” Vanessa said, the edges of her lips growing tighter, as if she had to work to maintain her vivacity.
Each word she spoke felt like a tiny lash. Her stepsister had known Chloe had a crush on Grady when they were in high school. In fact, once Vanessa had discovered this, she’d made an all-out attempt to charm and captivate Grady just to spite her. Chloe, a tomboy at heart, had known she couldn’t compete with her glamorous stepsister, so she’d given up on that dream.
Given that Vanessa claimed to be the mother of Grady’s supposed baby, Chloe could only reason Vanessa still held some attraction for him.
“I still can’t get over how much Grady and Ben look alike.” Vanessa gave Chloe an arched look as she fiddled with the sheets draped over Ben’s body.
“They do look similar,” Chloe murmured, trying to find an opportunity to make her escape while her stepsister chattered away.
“Similar? They are like two peas in a pod,” Vanessa said, her narrowed gaze flicking from Ben to Grady. “If it weren’t for Ben being flat on his back, you’d never know the difference. And did you know that twins have identical DNA?” she asked, turning to the cards on the windowsill.
And why did Vanessa think she needed to impart that particular piece of information?
“I’ll leave you to visit with your brother,” Chloe said, taking another step toward the door.
To her surprise and shock, Grady touched her arm, as if trying to make a connection. “It’s good to see you,” Grady said, lowering his voice. His eyes held hers.
Unable to look away, Chloe felt her heart quicken. Then a faint queasiness gripped her. Vanessa called out again and she dismissed the emotion as quickly as it came.
Vanessa claimed that Grady was the father of her child.
And Chloe had enough problems of her own.
* * *
Chloe’s reaction to his wound still stung.
Grady fitted his crutch under his arm and made his way over the snow-covered sidewalk to the ranch house. The chill January wind biting into his face promised bitter weather to come and seemed to sum up how he felt. Vanessa had driven him in her car to the hospital. Grandma Mamie’s car and Ben’s truck filled the garage, which meant they had to park it outside.
All the way home he replayed that moment when he’d stepped into his brother’s hospital room. He would have had to be blind not to have seen Chloe recoil from him.
Not that he blamed her. A crippled soldier and, according to Vanessa, the father of a child born out of wedlock. A child from her own stepsister.
Grady knew Cody wasn’t his, and though part of him wanted to tell Chloe, he knew it was neither the time nor place; he wasn’t even sure if it mattered to her. He was still frustrated at how glibly the lies had tripped off Vanessa’s tongue when she had confronted him at the ranch, Cody in her arms. He had come directly here once he was discharged and the first person he’d met at the ranch house had been Vanessa.
She had unleashed a stream of innuendo and falsehoods about how she and Grady had been intimate at a party that he and Ben had attended. Initially she had said he was too drunk to remember, but Grady wasn’t a drinker. Nor was he the kind of guy who slept around. At all. But the DNA test had shown Cody was a Stillwater, so Grady guessed, given his brother’s wild living, Ben had fathered the child at that party.
When he’d confronted Vanessa with that information she had conceded that maybe she’d had a bit too much to drink herself and quickly claimed it must have been Ben. The trouble was, though he had made it very clear to Vanessa that he wasn’t Cody’s father nor was he interested in her, she still flirted with him. It annoyed him and even though he didn’t encourage it, he could only guess how the situation looked to Chloe. Not exactly the hero he had hoped he would return from the war as.
Injured, with the whiff of scandal surrounding him and his family.
Precisely the thing he had left Little Horn to escape after his father’s debilitating injury had sent his mother away, unable to live with a crippled man. The shame of his mother’s defection and subsequent divorce had caused Grady to join the army, looking for discipline and meaning to his life. It had sent Ben on a path of hedonism and self-indulgence. Their mother’s death while traveling abroad hadn’t helped matters, either.
It seemed both their lives had come full circle. Now he suffered from a life-changing injury that had cut short his army career and Ben lay in the hospital after being thrown from a horse. Both living echoes of their now-deceased father.
“Slow down, soldier,” Vanessa called out as she got out of her car behind him. “Let me help you.”
He tried not to cringe as he kept going, tucking his chin into his jacket against the cold, trying to banish the picture of Vanessa standing beside Chloe, their differences so obvious.
Chloe with her sweet, gentle smile. Vanessa with her overly loud voice and tactless attitude. He knew he shouldn’t compare, but he couldn’t help himself.
Vanessa hurried ahead of him as he struggled up the stairs to the covered veranda that wrapped around the Colonial-style house. “You know, I can never figure out which of these doors to use,” she muttered as she grabbed the handle of one of the double doors. She pulled it open just as Grady came close, and the door connected with his leg.
He bit down on a cry as he stumbled, his crutch slipping out and away.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.” Vanessa clutched his arm as he regained his balance, pain shooting up his leg and clouding his vision.
He rode it out, then shook off her hand, frustrated at his helplessness. “I’m okay. Please.”
“I’m just trying to help you,” she complained as he fitted his crutch back under his arm. “You don’t need to get all huffy.”
“Sorry,” he said, unable to say more than that as he stumped into the entrance of the house. As Vanessa closed the door behind them, heat washed over him blended with the scent of supper baking and his frustration eased away.
He was home.
Beyond the foyer a fire crackled in the stone fireplace that was flanked by large leather couches. He wanted nothing more than to sink into their welcoming depths, close his eyes and forget everything that had happened to him the past few years. The war. The secret mission he and his team had been sent on and the hard consequences.
He just wanted to find the simple in life again.
But the sound of a baby crying upstairs broke the peace of the moment and reminded him of his obligations and how complicated his newly civilian life would be.
“Grady? Vanessa? Are you home?” his grandmother called out from somewhere in the house.
Vanessa sauntered past him to the living room, ignoring his grandmother’s question.
Just as Grady shucked off his heavy winter coat, his grandmother came down the stairs toward him, carrying Cody, who was fussing and waving his chubby arms.
In spite of knowing Cody wasn’t his, it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance. The little boy’s brown eyes and sandy hair were exact replicas of his and Ben’s, and he looked identical to Grady and Ben when they were babies.
He could see how people might believe he was the father. That Chloe might believe he was bothered him more than he cared to admit.
“Is he okay?” Grady asked, hobbling over to his grandmother, the injury in his leg making itself known as he faltered.
“He’s just fussy. Missing his mom, I think.” Mamie Stillwater shot a meaningful glance over her shoulder at Vanessa, who was now lounging on the couch leafing through a magazine she had bought on their way back from the hospital.
Vanessa must have caught the tone in Mamie’s voice, however, because she shot to her feet, her hands out for Cody. “Hey, sweetie,” she cooed, taking him from Mamie’s arms and walking back to the living room. “Did you miss your momma?”
“Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee? Hot chocolate?” his grandmother asked him, her eyes still on Vanessa who sat on the couch again.
“Coffee would be great,” he said.
“I’m fine,” Vanessa said to her, then turned to Grady with a coy smile and patted the couch beside her. “Come and sit down, soldier,” she said.
Grady hesitated, then walked over, wavering between politeness and his own struggles with Vanessa. Though he knew Cody wasn’t his child, he was clearly Ben’s and therefore his nephew. However, Vanessa didn’t seem very motherly.
His thoughts whirled as he struggled to find the peace that had been eluding him for the past few years. Ever since that hay bale had fallen on his father and injured his back, Grady’s home life had spun out of control. His father’s chronic pain had created tension, which had led to fights, which finally had sent his mother away.
Living with his father had been difficult before; it had become almost impossible after the accident. Reuben Stillwater had turned into a bitter, angry and critical man.
Grady, who had often wanted to leave the ranch and Little Horn, saw his chance when he met with a recruitment officer from the army at high school. As soon as he’d graduated, he’d joined the army looking for discipline and order. He desired adventure and an escape from Little Horn. He had joined special ops, wearing his green beret with pride.
But escape had resolved the issue only temporarily. Running special ops in Afghanistan had drained him. Had created an increasing yearning for home. When he’d been injured that horrible day, he’d known his career was over.
However, coming back to the ranch to discover a woman he neither admired nor desired was telling everyone he had fathered her child wasn’t the vision he’d held in his head during the lonely nights in Kandahar, Afghanistan. He had longed for the open spaces of the ranch, the simplicity of working with cattle and horses.
As he leaned back and glanced at Cody gurgling his pleasure in Vanessa’s arms, a picture of Chloe flashed in his head. She looked as pretty as ever. Prettier if that was even possible, with a simple charm he remembered from their youth.
As if someone like her would look at someone like you, he reminded himself.
“He sure knows his mommy,” Vanessa said, tickling the little boy under his chin. “Don’t you, darling?”
His grandmother returned with two steaming mugs of coffee. She set down one within arm’s reach of Grady and settled herself on the large leather couch across from them both, her eyes on Vanessa and the baby.
“Busy happenings in the county today,” Mamie said, her gaze flicking from Vanessa, still absorbed with Cody, to Grady sipping his coffee. “Yesterday Tom Horton discovered a couple of his brand-new ATVs were stolen.”
“They figure the same people who’ve been rustling the cattle and stealing equipment are to blame?” Grady asked.
“Lucy Benson is quite sure it is. This must be so difficult for her.” Grandma Mamie tut-tutted. “Byron McKay is calling for her to quit as sheriff and she’s not getting any closer to the culprits.”
“Byron McKay likes to throw his weight around,” Grady said.
“He’s a big-time rancher, isn’t he?” Vanessa put in, tucking Cody against her while she opened the magazine with her free hand. “I heard he’s got one of the biggest spreads in the county.”
“He’s wealthy enough,” Mamie said. “And he likes to let the members of the cowboy league know it.”
“He’s not president yet, is he?” Grady asked.
“Oh, no,” Grandma protested angrily, as if the idea horrified her. “Carson Thorn still holds that position and the other members will make sure Byron doesn’t ever get in charge.”
“This league... That’s the one that threw the fancy party I was at two weeks ago. What do they do exactly?” Vanessa asked.
“The league formed over a century ago as a service organization,” Grandma Mamie said. “They provide help and resources to the ranchers in the area. There are chapters all over Texas.”
“What kind of help? Like with the branding and stuff?” Vanessa seemed quite interested in the dealings of the league, which puzzled Grady.
“It started to fight cattle rustling and give support when times got hard for fellow ranchers.” Mamie gave Grady a warm smile. “Grady and Ben’s great-grandfather, Bo Stillwater, was one of the founding members.”
“They aren’t helping much for all the cattle rustling going on,” Vanessa said, still turning the pages of her magazine one-handed, seemingly oblivious to her little boy, now, thankfully, sleeping in her arms. “I heard that Byron McKay got some fancy machinery stolen and another cattleman lost some animals. And that town sign thingy is still gone. Not too on the ball, are they?”
“I’m sure they’re doing what they can,” Grady said, cradling the cup of coffee, feeling a sudden chill. Coming home to stories of a rash of thefts of cattle and machinery and equipment was disheartening. The community of Little Horn, with the help of the Lone Star Cowboy League, had always pulled together. Though he had been back only a few days, he already sensed mistrust growing between the local ranchers.
“Funny how nothing’s disappeared from this place, though,” Vanessa said with a sly look. “Maybe the thieves are those kids you’ve got working on that, what is it, ranchers something or other?”
“Future Ranchers program,” Grady said, shooting her a warning look. “And you might want to watch what you say about the girls we’ve got helping here. The Markham sisters’ ranch has been hit, as well.”
“But that Maddy Coles. I mean, she’s a foster kid. She probably has all kind of weird friends.”
“That’s enough,” Grady snapped, angry at her allegations, then frustrated at his shortness with her.
Too many things were happening at once, he thought. His brother, Ben, in the hospital, Vanessa and her ever-changing insinuations, all the upheaval the thefts had caused in the community.
Seeing Chloe hadn’t helped his equilibrium, either. He’d thought hearing about her marriage would ease away the feelings he still harbored, but now she had come back to Little Horn. Single and as attractive as ever.
He felt a clutch of pain in his leg and all thoughts of Chloe vanished with it. He wasn’t the man he used to be and he had nothing to offer any woman. He shot a glance at Vanessa. Especially not with someone like her entangled in his life.
“What puzzles me is all the things other people are receiving,” Grandma said. “The new saddles at Ruby’s, the cattle at the Derrings’ and the clothes for their foster children. It’s all very nice and generous, but it’s puzzling.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind getting some of the stuff being handed out.” Vanessa tossed the magazine aside then stood in front of Grady and held out the little boy, who had woken up again and was stirring in her arms. “Can you take him? I’m tired. Didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
Grady hadn’t slept much, either, but he said nothing. Instead, he set his coffee on a nearby table and took him from Vanessa. Cody stared up at him with bright eyes and gurgled his pleasure, and Grady felt a tug on his heart. He was such a cute little guy.
“I think you should see about getting that Eva chick back, that nanny you hired,” Vanessa said. “I don’t think I can take care of this little boy by myself.”
Then she sauntered off before Grady could say anything more.
When she was out of earshot his grandmother got up and sat down beside Grady, letting Cody grab her finger with his. “I wish we could hire Eva again, but she’s married now and I want to give her time to concentrate on her husband and married life. I wish I knew what to do.”
“We will take care of him,” Grady said firmly. “He’s a Stillwater. Our flesh and blood. Our responsibility.”
But even as he spoke the brave words, he felt a tremor of apprehension. Ben lay in a coma. He had his own injuries to contend with. His grandmother was getting on in years.
If Vanessa wasn’t stepping up, what would Cody’s future look like? Grady knew getting married wasn’t in the picture for him, so he couldn’t count on creating any kind of family for Cody.
His thoughts, unexpectedly, drifted to Chloe. Her warm smile, as generous as always. Her easy nature.
He pushed them aside as irrelevant. He would never be marriage material.
His mother hadn’t been able to live with an injured man; how could he expect Chloe to?
Chapter Two (#ulink_b59e8557-9da0-5813-88d8-15223e38c9e4)
“Got a new patient for you. Is Salma here?”
Chloe looked up from the makeshift desk she had been given in one corner of the physical therapy department at the doctor standing in front of her. With his droopy moustache and thick eyebrows, Dr. Schuster looked as though he should be riding the range rather than diagnosing and treating patients. Dr. Schuster had taken advantage of this impression and adopted an aw-shucks attitude that put many of his patients at ease.
However, right now he looked anything but as he tapped the file he held against his other hand, the frown on his face giving her cause for concern.
“She’s gone for lunch. Can I help you?”
“I thought she would be around.”
“You look worried. Is it a difficult case?”
“I’ve got other things on my mind,” he said. “But this patient does bother me. He said he doesn’t need therapy.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Chloe asked, not sure she could make a difference, but sometimes another voice helped.
“You mean turn on that Miner charm?” Dr. Schuster joked. Then he shook his head. “No. I can’t ask that of you.”
