The Wrangler. Lindsay McKenna
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Val had expertise in exactly the area the FBI had enlisted his help for. But somehow, he was glad she wasn’t in such dangerous work anymore.
“Gus…” Val begged. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“I understand, honey.” Gus patted her granddaughter’s hand. She turned her focus on Griff. “What about you, Mr. McPherson? Do you miss Wall Street?”
Griff shrugged. “I’m finding I’m missing it a lot less than I thought I would.”
“Did you really want to come back here?” Gus asked before she spooned some mashed potatoes with gravy into her mouth.
“At first, no. I was in shock, I guess. I thought with my credentials and knowledge, I could easily land another investment job. But that was fool’s gold. When I was running out of money and options, I did what a lot of other people did—I went crawling home.”
“Home isn’t such a bad place.” Gus gave Val a warm look. “I’m very glad to have Val home. But like you, she’s still getting used to it.”
Griff curbed his tongue. He had a hundred questions for Val, but the look on her closed face warned him not to ask them. Her mouth was usually full and shapely. Now, it was thinned with displeasure. “We owe thanks to our troops, no matter what service they’re in,” he said. “You all put your lives on the line for the rest of us.”
Heat nettled Val’s skin. She could feel the warmth creeping up from her neck and flow across her face. She hated blushing, but that’s exactly what she was doing. When she glanced up and saw the sincerity banked in Griff’s green eyes, she nearly choked on a carrot. Coughing, she quickly took a sip of water. Wiping her mouth with the white linen napkin, she managed, “Don’t paint a bigger picture of me than you have already.”
Stung by her gruff response, Griff wondered inwardly how he was going to get along with this woman. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gus shake her head. For a bit, the clink of silverware against the bright yellow plates was the only sound in the kitchen.
“Before you two go over the to-do list,” Gus finally said, “I made us a special dessert for tonight. Apple pie.”
Val couldn’t help but smile over at her grandmother. “Thank goodness for your cooking. Otherwise, we’d both probably starve,” and she managed a sour smile in Griff’s direction. She saw him respond immediately. There was a sense of abandonment around this man. And she could feel him trying to fit into the awkward situation they were all caught up in at the moment. She felt sorry for him. Val tried to put herself in Griff’s place: suddenly losing his job and all his money. Plus, he had no place to go. Val decided it would be hard. She finished off her carrots and mashed potatoes.
“My pies are famous in these parts,” Gus confided to Griff. “Have you ever tried apple pie with a slice of sharp cheddar cheese melted on it?”
“No, Miss Gus, I haven’t. But I’m willing to try it.” Griff quickly finished off his food. He was like a starving mongrel who’d come upon an unexpected bounty.
“I have a hunch,” Val said in a droll voice, “that you’d eat anything if it was home cooked.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Guilty on all counts.”
Chuckling, Gus said, “You aren’t like most gents I’ve met in my lifetime, Mr. McPherson. Seems you don’t ride a horse named Pride. Although you’re certainly a confident young man.”
Griff warmed to the elder. “My uncle and aunt made sure any pride I had was ironed out of me a long time ago.
“They instilled morals, values and a hard work ethic in me. They opened up their lives to me after our parents died.” His voice lowered with feeling. “And I’ll always be grateful to them for that.”
“They alive?” Gus wondered aloud.
Shaking his head, Griff said, “My aunt died two years ago of a heart attack. No one suspected it. She had complained about a week earlier about pain under her jaw, but we all thought it was a toothache. My uncle begged her to go to the dentist. She booked the appointment, but never made it. My uncle came home that evening and found her dead on the couch.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Gus gave him a sympathetic look. “What about your uncle?”
Griff smiled faintly and smoothed the linen napkin across his lap. “He died of heartbreak, Miss Gus. He loved my aunt in a way I’ve seen few people love another person. They were very happy together. And she was his world. He died three months after her, of an undetected brain aneurysm.”
Val felt her heart open as she saw sadness in Griff’s face. He’d lost his parents and then his guardians, and she felt deeply for him. “Your aunt and uncle sound like they were wonderful people.”
Griff saw tears glistening in Val’s eyes and was stunned by her response. In that moment, her guard was down. And his heart ached to explore her in every possible way. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Griff managed in a pained tone, “They were my world. They didn’t have to take in a grieving six year old, but they did.”
Gus blotted her lips with her napkin. “They might have lived in New York City, but they had solid Wyoming values. You can’t take the country out of a person no matter where he or she lives. And they instilled those principles into you.” She looked Griff up and down. His hair was short, recently washed and combed. Gus doubted he went anywhere without a red bandanna around his throat. His white cotton cowboy shirt with pearl buttons was pressed to perfection and clean. “I feel you’ll blossom here over time. You’re kinda like a tulip bulb—all covered with city-slicker soil. But once you shake off that city dirt, you’ll rediscover your roots here.”
Griff felt a deep warmth toward the women. They cared and it showed in their faces. “I’m already starting to bloom. I like waking up in the morning to clean, fresh air. And instead of skyscrapers outside my window, I have the Teton mountains.”
Rubbing her hands, Gus cackled. “And it don’t get any better than that!”
Val got up to clear the dishes, and instantly Griff was on his feet to help her.
Gus smiled. “That’s what I like, a man who knows his way around a kitchen.” She wagged her finger in Griff’s face. “Remember, I cook, you wash dishes.”
“It’s a great trade-off.” Griff filled his hands with plates. Val was collecting all the bowls from the table and setting them on the counter. For the next five minutes, Griff felt dizzy and as if in a dream. A slice of memory from his childhood flowed into his mind, stunning him, filling him with love and appreciation. He recalled his mother showing him how to clear a table after the family was finished with dinner. He’d been short and clumsy and had dropped a cup on the floor. Slade had chided him, but Griff remembered his mom leaning over to hug him and tell him not to worry. Carrying dishes simultaneously was all about balance and she was proud of him for learning.
His heart contracted with grief as he carefully placed the plates into the sink to rinse them off before transferring them to the dishwasher. The kitchen was warm, the fragrance of food a perfume for his lonely soul. The clink of dishes and silverware was pleasant music from the past. Griff wished he could confide in the women just how much this moment meant to him. They may have taken it for granted, but he never would. Dinner with family was something he’d pined for and rarely gotten when he’d come home to the Tetons Ranch. Slade had not wanted him around. He was angry with Griff for things that had transpired in the past, and saw him as a threat to his control over the ranch even though half of it was legally his. Griff understood his older fraternal twin’s reaction. Slade had put his whole life into keeping the family ranch solvent, and he’d nearly lost it. If not for Jordana Lawton, his new wife, winning the ten thousand dollars in the endurance race, Slade would have no ranch. Now, they were married and things were slowly improving. Griff felt an undeniable relief to know the Tetons Ranch would not only survive but, someday, thrive. And he’d been here to see it.
“Time for apple pie and cheese!”