Ms Demeanor. Danica Winters
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pastures.
She sucked in a long, deep breath, hoping that some of the ranch’s clean air had somehow slipped into the car. She could smell the faint aroma of horses, hay and diesel from the tractors. It was a heady mix, beckoning memories of her childhood spent daydreaming about horses and ranch life while her father whiled away the hours at his law office.
“I bet you’re glad to be home,” she said.
He glanced out the window, and she could swear that his green eyes turned a shade darker as he looked at the ranch. It didn’t make sense how she could love this place so much and he could seem so disconnected.
“I’m glad to be out of prison,” he grumbled.
“That doesn’t mean that you’re glad to be here.”
“Oh, I’m glad to be home, but you gotta understand that I ain’t gonna be welcomed with open arms. I screwed everything up. My brothers were so pissed, by now they have to have convinced everyone that it would be best if I just hit the road and never came back.”
“I doubt your parents feel like that.”
“They didn’t come visit me. Not once when I was behind bars. They made it real clear they think I’m nothing but trouble.”
“If you feel like your return to the family is going to inhibit your success in staying out of trouble, perhaps I can help you get settled elsewhere.”
He grimaced as though she had just sentenced him to solitary confinement. “Nah, I ain’t gonna run away. I’m just going to have to face whatever is coming my way.”
She wanted to reach over and grip his fingers and give them a reassuring squeeze, but instead she gripped the steering wheel harder. “No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’m your ally.”
“Well, at least I got one,” he said, the sexy smile returning.
She pulled to a stop, parking the car in the gravel lot, which was covered in patchy snow. The ranch carried the warmth and feeling of Christmas, with its strings of lights, poinsettias and an abundance of wreathes that hung from every post. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, including the older woman who was standing on the porch of the main office looking out at them.
She recognized Ms. Eloise Fitzgerald from passing and the occasional hello, and as they unbuckled, Eloise smiled and waved. Yet it was the congenial, halfhearted wave of a near stranger and a far cry from what Laura would have expected a mother to give her son.
Rainier’s features darkened as he looked at his mother, having noticed her chilly reception himself.
“Don’t worry, she probably just doesn’t see you or something,” Laura said, trying to soften the blow for him.
She stepped out of the car, Rainier following suit. Eloise shaded her eyes, casting shadows over her face as she looked toward them. Her mouth opened as she must have finally recognized Rainier when he stepped around the front of the car and made his way toward the office.
She smiled and her curved back straightened as she stood a bit taller. “Rainier, sunshine, is that really you?” Eloise asked, excitement fluttering through her words. “I can’t believe it!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around her son’s neck. “Your father and I didn’t think you’d be here until tomorrow. Wyatt said...” Her words where muffled against Rainier’s chest as she tightened her arms around him.
The reunion made a lump form in Laura’s throat. Thank goodness it wasn’t the chilly reception that he had expected and she thought had come to fruition.
In the history of hugs, this one may have been the longest, as tears collected in the corners of Eloise’s eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she repeated over and over.
Rainier gave his mother a kiss on the top of her head and finally she stepped back, releasing him from her grateful hold. For the first time since seeing her son, she seemed to notice Laura.
“Laura, I can’t tell you how thankful I am in having you bring my boy back to us.” She reached over and gave her hand a warm squeeze. “You have to come in. The girls and I just made a batch of cookies and there’s fudge cooling on the counter.”
Fudge and cookies. Laura pulled at the waistband of her skirt. This time of year, the pounds always seemed to jump onto her thighs at the mere nearness of fudge and cookies. In fact, if she closed her eyes and thought about it, she could almost feel herself expanding.
“I’d love to, but first I need to make sure that all will be well with you and your family regarding your son’s parole.” She tugged on the hem of her skirt, lowering it. “Is Rainier going to be staying with you and working here on the ranch? Is he welcome?”
Eloise gave her a disbelieving look. “Are you kidding, dear? Everyone is welcome at the ranch. My son made mistakes, and he’s paid for them. I don’t want things for him to be any harder than they already are. I would do anything for him.”
Her admiration for Eloise grew. It wasn’t every day that a convicted felon was treated with such kindness, even by family members or loved ones.
Laura looked over at Rainier as Eloise took them both by the hand and led them toward the main house and the waiting smorgasbord of sweets. He sent her a brilliant smile, his white teeth sparkling in the winter sun. He was so handsome; it was easy to see how someone could forgive him for his mistakes and trust him with their heart.
The house was a flurry of motion. Gwen and Eloise were rushing around the kitchen, pulling together a meal reminiscent of the epicurean lifestyle of ancient Greece. Every countertop was filled to the edge with food. There was everything from cold cuts and cheese to spritz cookies and rosettes. His mouth watered. The food was a far cry from what had been ladled onto his tray in prison and the little packs of chips he bought at the commissary. Dang, it was good to be home.
His mother handed him a plate full of food, and another to Laura, as though she was just one of the gang and not someone with the ability to put him back in prison. He couldn’t decide whether it was a part of his mother’s plan that she overwhelm Laura with kindness in hopes it would keep him out of trouble, or if it was just his mother’s way. Regardless, he loved her for it.
His adoptive father, Merle, walked into the kitchen while thumbing through a stack of mail. In all the excitement his mother must have forgotten to tell him that Rainier was home. When he finally looked up from the letters in his hands, a wave of recognition and pure joy overtook his face.
“Son, what are you doing here? I thought you didn’t get out for another couple of days?” His father gave a questioning glance to his mother.
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I meant to come get you. I just wanted to make sure that Rainier and Laura were taken care of. I’m so sorry,” she said, throwing her hands over her mouth. “I can’t believe...”
“It’s okay, Mother,” Merle said, giving her a quick peck on the forehead before turning to Rainier. “How long have you been home?”
He shrugged. With all the activity and questions his mother had been throwing his way, he wasn’t sure if he’d been home five minutes or five hours. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, as if the world revolved around him. He both despised and loved it, but it was almost too much.
Even though he’d said nothing, his father seemed to understand and gave an acknowledging tip of his head.
“We haven’t touched your room, Rainier. It’s waiting for you if you’re tired. This week we can go get you some new clothes,” his mother said, coming over and pinching the pink Hawaiian shirt between her fingers and pulling it as if she wished she could throw it away then and there. “And we can get you anything else you need to get on your feet, as well. Waylon, Christina and Winnie will be coming home