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“You should have seen Miss Jennie when she saw that snake.” Rudy grinned at Cameron. “Hit it with her first shot—using a pistol, no less.”
Refusing to be sidetracked, Jennie brought up the issue she’d discovered that morning. “What about the razor blade in my saddle?”
Cameron’s eyes widened. “Razor blade?”
Jennie nodded.
Her father didn’t have an answer for that one. His face set in a stubborn scowl. “I won’t have a Morgan on my property.”
“Seems like you’re in no condition to disagree.” Jennie leaned close to her father, her face in an equally stubborn scowl. “If I say he stays, he stays.”
Hank’s cheeks burned red beneath the tanned, leatherlike skin. “This is my ranch, girl. I make the decisions.”
“Oh quit your bellyaching, Hank, and take these painkillers.” Rachel Blainey was back in the room, handing Hank two tablets and a tall glass of lemonade. “Jennie’s right. You need help, whether you like it or not. Cameron’s offering at no cost. You’d be a fool to refuse.”
“What’s with the women in this house? Isn’t a man’s home supposed to be his castle?” Hank tossed the pills to the back of his throat and swallowed a gulp of lemonade. “I will not be overruled by a couple of women. I’m the boss and I can fire you if I want.” His bluster faded a bit when Rachel winced.
The older woman stood firm. “You have that right, but you’d be an even bigger fool to do it. Who would cook the meals?”
He nodded toward Jennie.
She shook her head and smiled. “You want to live to be eighty, don’t you?”
“Then Rudy can learn to cook.”
Rudy backed away, his hands held up. “Oh no, not me. I wouldn’t know a pan from a skillet. Besides, who would take care of the animals?”
Hank turned a hopeful look on Stan Keller, his foreman and longtime friend.
Stan shook his head. “All I can cook is canned beans and weenies. Care to eat that three times a day, seven days a week? I like Ms. Rachel’s cookin’. I like it enough I’d consider quittin’if she was to up and leave.”
Hank’s brows rose high on his forehead. “You won’t leave me. You’re practically family.”
“So’s Ms. Rachel,” Stan replied.
Hank snorted and stared around at the set faces. “Overruled on my on property. I don’t like it.” He pounded the arm of the recliner with his palm. “Morgans don’t belong on the Flying W.”
“Says who?” Jennie asked. “Whatever’s stuck in your craw better just get unstuck. He’s staying.”
WITH ONE HURDLE CROSSED, Cameron headed to the small town of Dry Wash to inform the sheriff of the attempts on the Wards’ lives. After the sheriff promised to make a trek out to the Flying W for further information, Cameron left for the Bar M Ranch to warn his family of the trouble headed their way. Frankly, he didn’t expect any warmer welcome from some of his relatives than he’d got from Hank Ward.
When he pulled into the yard and parked, a young woman with auburn hair and bright green eyes flew off the porch and attacked him before he could shut his truck door. “Whoa, wait a minute there, Molly.”
“Cameron!” She hugged him around the middle so hard he could barely breathe. “I can’t believe it’s you. Let me look at you.” She leaned back, her arms still around his waist, tears shimmering in her eyes. “You’re back and you look great.”
“Hey, carrot.” He ruffled his sister’s hair and set her away. “Let me get a look at you. What’s it been—two years?”
“Make that three.” Molly tossed her bright auburn hair, her green eyes flashing.
Cameron marveled at how much she looked like their mother. Happy and sweet—the spitting image of Emma Morgan.
“Last time I saw you was at my high school graduation.” Her gaze was accusing, tempered by her ready smile.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at college?”
“I finished my last exam two days ago. I couldn’t wait to come home, I’ve been so homesick.”
Cameron knew that feeling. “Denver’s not that far, knucklehead.” He rubbed the top of her head as he’d done when she was no taller then his belt buckle. Now, she stood up to his chin at five feet ten. No longer a gangly teen, she’d filled out in all the right places. “Hey, when did you grow up?”
She punched him in the belly and then raised the same hand to straighten her hair. “A long time ago, doofus. Come on, I know Mom will be over the moon to see you.” She hooked her arm around his waist and led him up the steps and through the front door of the two-story stone-and-cedar ranch house.
How many times had he hopped up those same steps two at a time growing up on the Bar M Ranch? Back then, he didn’t have a care in the world, never thinking past dinner or riding his favorite horse the next day. His chest tightened. He’d missed home.
Then why the heck had he stayed away so long?
“Hey, brother.” The sound of his older brother’s voice reminded him of the reason why. Logan Morgan stepped through the door leading to the kitchen. Instead of the hug Molly had given him, Logan held out his hand. “Been a while.”
Cameron grasped his brother’s hand and shook, his grip strong. A measure of a man’s worth, his father would say. “Molly was just reminding me how long.” Where had the easy camaraderie they’d shared in their youth gone? For over a decade, Logan had been cold and distant to him. Ever since he’d started seeing Jennie Ward. He might as well have committed treason or murder by the way Logan and his father treated him.
If not for his mother and Molly, Cameron wouldn’t have returned to the Bar M. Though he loved the land and enjoyed working with his hands, he’d been a stranger in his own home, ostracized for his association with the Ward girl, as they loved to call her. Even after he’d left to join the army and Jennie had refused to leave with him, his father and brother hadn’t forgiven him or welcomed him back into the fold. Old wounds only seemed to fester and grow deeper.
“What brings you home?” Logan dropped his hand and hooked a thumb in his belt loop.
“Do I have to have a reason other than to see my family?” Cameron asked.
“Usually. Molly’s graduation and Mom’s surgery were the only times you’ve been home over the past five years. We’re all healthy here and Molly doesn’t graduate college for another year or more.” Logan’s brows rose over deep brown eyes. Where Molly favored their mother, Logan was a mirror image of their father in looks and attitude.
Cameron fell in the middle. Black hair like his father, green eyes like his mother and somewhere in the center between the rigid views of Tom Morgan and the full-time mediator who was Emma Morgan. He was saved from an answer by a whirlwind of denim and chambray.
“Cam, honey! I can’t believe it’s you.” Emma Morgan strode into the room, her Dingo-booted feet tapping against the hardwood floors. The dust in her hair made it hard to determine how much was dust and how much of her auburn curls had turned gray. Without hesitation, she pulled him into her arms and hugged him close. “God, I missed you.” She held on for longer than usual until Logan cleared his throat, ending the touching reunion.
Cameron could have gone on a lot longer hugging his mother. Until she’d come through the door, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her smile and her down-to-earth ways. What you saw was what you got with Emma Morgan. She didn’t have a secretive, mean or tricky bone in her body. Molly was just like her and he loved them both all the more. “Hi, Mom. I missed you, too.”
When she pulled away, a tear made a trail down the dust on her cheeks. Reaching up she brushed it away. “Now see there, you’ll have me bawling like a newborn calf if you don’t watch out.”
Fighting the lump lodged in his throat, Cameron smiled. “Maybe I’ll join you.”
“While you two are crying, I have horses to tend.” Logan left without looking back.
Emma’s gaze followed him. “I don’t understand that boy.”
Her “boy” was all of thirty and then some.
“He needs to fall in love or something to take the edge off,” Molly said.
“Wish he would. Might bring him down a peg or two to meet his match in a female.” Emma’s attention returned to Cameron, her smile returning with it. “It’s good to have you home, son.”
“It’s good to be back.” Despite the bad feelings between him and the male members of his family, Cameron really was glad to be back in the mountains. “What have you been up to?” He stood back and stared down at her dusty jeans.
His mother laughed. “I was lunging a new filly I think will make a good mount for Molly. Logan’s set to break her next week.” Emma Morgan didn’t apologize for her appearance and Cameron didn’t expect her to. From the time she could walk she’d been riding horses. Having children or a husband didn’t slow her down for a minute. In this respect, Molly was slightly different. Although an accomplished barrel racer, Molly wasn’t as passionate about riding horses as her mother, preferring to go to college and learn more about what goes into making a good healthy horse.
“Did Molly tell you she made Dean’s List again?” his mother asked.
Cameron clapped a hand to his sister’s back. “So, does that make every semester so far?”
Molly shrugged, but a grin lit her freckled face. “Yeah. Gotta have top grades to get into Colorado State’s Veterinary School.”
“You’ll make it at that rate.” His sister was smart and determined to succeed, like every other Morgan on the ranch. They’d been raised to win. He wondered where he’d have been if he’d taken the football scholarship to University of Colorado, instead of tossing it all and joining the army. Not that he regretted joining the army. He’d learned more in his six years as a Ranger than if he’d spent the same six in college.
“Molly, why don’t you get your brother something to drink?”
“What’ll you have? Coffee, soda or beer? I’m legal now, you know.” Already on her way to the kitchen, Molly smiled over her shoulder. “What’ll it be?”
“Water would be great.”
As soon as Molly left the living room, Emma Morgan’s smile turned downward. “What’s wrong?”
His mother could always see through him and he wasn’t going to stall her as he had Logan. His mother would listen and if he hoped to get his father to hear and understand, he had to convince her of the danger and the need to be careful. “Prescott Personal Securities has come across some kind of conspiracy and we think it’s headed toward the border of the Bar M and the Flying W.”
The light died in her eyes and her lips thinned into a straight line. “Tell me about it.”
Molly returned with a glass of water and they sat on the brown leather chairs around the stone fireplace. For the next twenty minutes Cameron told them what he’d told the Wards.
“Wow. It’s all kinda scary. Do you really think we’re in danger?” Molly asked, a frown mixing the freckles on her brow.
Cameron nodded, his gaze focused on his mother’s worried, dust-streaked face. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know you wouldn’t have come out to tell us if you didn’t mean it.” His mother patted his hand. “I’m just sorry it has to be bad news that brings you out.” She sighed. “Now, all we have to do is convince the men. I’m going to clean up for dinner. Your father will be in at any moment. Logan’s probably clued him in that you’re here.”
As soon as his mother left the room, Molly pounced on him with questions of her own. “How was Jennie? I haven’t seen her in so long. Are you two going to start seeing each other again? I think this whole feud mess is just stupid and we should tell Dad to just get over it.”
“Tell Dad to get over what?” The deep, rich timbre of Tom Morgan’s voice filled the room all the way to the exposed rough-hewn timbers in the cathedral ceiling.
Cameron rose from the chair and almost laughed out loud at his sister.
Molly’s eyes widened and she gulped. She stood and hooked Cameron’s arm, turning him to face his father. “Dad, look who’s here.”
His father dipped his head. “Son.” No hug, no smile. Just one word and it was as cold as a blue norther screaming down off the slopes. What did it take to melt the mountain of ice around his father’s heart? Would he ever forgive him for making his own choices and meet him halfway?
“Hi, Dad.” Not for the first time, Cameron regretted the loss of the closeness they’d shared in his teens. Cameron had never understood the rift between Tom Morgan and Hank Ward, and his father hadn’t bothered to enlighten him. The feud resulting from the rift had been the major reason he’d left everything he loved behind—the Bar M Ranch, his family and Jennie.
Logan entered behind his father and stood beside him.
“What brings you out of the big city?” His father slapped his hat against his thigh, a thin cloud of dust rising from the denim.
Cameron knew better than to sugarcoat anything for his father. “Trouble.”
Logan snorted. “Figures.”
“What kind of trouble?” his father asked.
“I think someone might be out to hurt either the Morgans or the Wards. Maybe both. I just came over from the Flying W. Someone took a shot at Hank Ward.”
“Good, the old man probably deserves it,” Logan said.
But his father didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened and his brown eyes burned. “You went to the Flying W instead of telling your own family first?”
He should have expected his father to react that way. Nevertheless the older man’s words rubbed Cameron wrong. Jennie had been his sweetheart, his first love.
Tom Morgan had never reconciled himself to Cameron seeing Jennie and viewed his association as defection to the other side.
Cameron opened his mouth to explain his reasoning and thought better of it. “Yes. I stopped at the Flying W.”
“You always were the black sheep. I never could get it through your head that Morgans and Wards don’t mix.”
Molly blew out a loud sigh and let go of Cameron’s arm. “While you men are conducting your pissing contest, I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed in your old room.”
“Don’t bother, Molly.” Cameron’s gaze met his father’s. “I’ll be staying at the Flying W.”
Chapter Four
Cameron held his breath, maintaining a poker face as his father’s chest filled like an overextended balloon. Instead of the explosive tirade Cameron fully expected, Tom Morgan spun on his booted heel and left the house, the door slamming behind him.
Logan shot an intense glare at Cameron and followed his father out the door, leaving Cameron and the women standing in their wake.
Cameron’s mother expelled a long breath and forced a smile. “Well, that went over well, now didn’t it?” She clapped her hands together. “What can I get you? Do you want to take your saddle? You might need it over there.”
“If you still have it, that would be great.” Cameron crossed the room and stood in front of his mother. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable for you and Molly.”
“And I’m sorry your father is so bullheaded.” She smiled up at him and touched a hand to his cheek. “I’m glad to see you, son. Don’t let your father’s attitude make you think any differently.”
He touched a hand to hers, pressing her cool, dry fingers to his heated skin. “You understand why I have to go to the Flying W, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Molly stepped up beside him. “Me, too.”
“There’s another man from the agency, Jack Sanders, who is due to come out to stay with you and provide you with protection. I told him to give it a day before he came.” He sighed. “See what you can do to convince him.” Cameron jerked his head in the direction his father had gone.
“I will. If nothing else, we’ll keep Jack around the house for Molly and me.”
“Not that you can’t handle a gun or horse better than any man in the county. Of that I have no doubt. But it helps to have another pair of eyes looking out for you, especially while you’re working.”
“Thanks, Cam.” His mother pushed her hair back off her dirty face and smiled. “You better get that saddle and hightail it back to the Ward’s place. Hate to think of Hank being laid up and Jennie fending for herself.”
Cameron turned to go and thought again. “Mom, what happened to make Dad hate Hank Ward so much? No one’s ever bothered to tell us.”
His mother drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a touchy subject.”
