The Rancher's Christmas Bride. Brenda Minton
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“Dan, you’re just being grouchy. And your granddaughter is the wrong person to take it out on,” he said.
The last thing she needed was for him to defend her. She shot him a warning look that he disregarded with that cool, cowboy way he had. As if nothing ever got under this skin.
“I’m not taking it out on her.” Her grandfather patted the hand she’d rested on the rail of the bed. “I’m giving some advice. Go on about your life. I don’t know why any man would dump you. Maybe it’s the grandfather in me talking, but I think any man in his right mind would want you. And don’t be looking at her like that, Alex Palermo. We all know you’re not in your right mind. Marissa, you need to go back home to your folks and to your life. I imagine there’s some pieces you need to pick up. Things you need to deal with.”
“I already told you I’m staying,” she said softly, hoping he wouldn’t disagree.
He opened his mouth to say something and coughed instead. The cough lingered, turning his face dark red as he fought to catch his breath. When she offered a glass of water, he raised his hand and shook his head.
“I’m fine. Water’s good for nothing but washing dishes. And making coffee. Get me some coffee and you’ll be my favorite granddaughter.”
“As far as I know, I’m your only granddaughter.”
His hand over hers tightened and his gaze caught and held hers. “I know.”
Those two words shook her. She saw in his eyes that he did know. She saw sympathy and sadness. She saw understanding. How did he know? But she couldn’t ask. Not yet.
“What if that fiancé of yours comes to his senses?” her grandfather asked.
“I don’t think I’d be willing to revisit that relationship.”
“I’ll get you a cup of coffee, Dan,” Alex offered, and quietly slipped from the room.
Silence hung between them. Marissa tried to turn away but her grandfather kept his hand on hers.
“I know about your sister.” He patted her hand. “I can’t imagine how that hurt you. It hurt me and I didn’t know her. But you were young. How old?”
“Ten.”
“Yes, ten. Your grandmother sent me the newspaper clipping. She was heartbroken.”
The information unsettled Marissa. “You talked to my grandmother?”
“Yes, we talked. No, it was more like yipping. We yipped at each other. Like the coyotes you hear at sunset. We never did get along. She was city and I was country. We were oil and water. The two don’t mix. She wanted shopping malls. I wanted cattle. We bought the camper and planned to build a house later. At first she loved the idea. It was romantic, the two of us making our own way. And then along came your mom and it was crowded. To make matters worse, it upset her wealthy daddy that we were living like that.”
“So she left you.”
“Yes, she left. For good reasons, mind you. But after a while she called and apologized. She sent me letters. I mailed her checks. She decided I wasn’t fit to be a father and I agreed. I understood horses and cattle but not little girls. I guess from the mess I made of my marriage, I didn’t understand women any better. And that’s why you should go on home. It was nice meeting you and I hope you’ll stay in touch, but you belong in Dallas, not Bluebonnet.”
“How do you know where I belong?” Even she didn’t know where she belonged.
“That’s what your grandmother said when I told her she shouldn’t marry a cowboy from Bluebonnet Springs. And I was right.”
“You’re not right about me.”
Footsteps announced Alex’s return. She stepped away from the bed, moving to the window to look out at the city landscape.
“Did I need to give you more time?” Alex asked as he handed the coffee to her grandfather. He pushed the button to raise the back of the bed so that Dan could sit up a little higher.
“You can take my granddaughter on back to my place. I think her folks should be able to find their way down here to pick her up.”
Marissa picked up her purse. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not that easy to get rid of. I’m going back to your place because someone has to feed the dog. And that stupid rooster.”
“Don’t be picking on my rooster,” Dan grumbled.
“I won’t. And I’m also not going anywhere.”
Alex chuckled. “Dan, I wasn’t sure if she was really your granddaughter until just now. She’s definitely stubborn enough to be a Wilson. You may have met your match.”
“Go away. I need my rest. Didn’t you hear the doctor?”
“I heard him.” Marissa leaned in to kiss her grandfather’s scruffy cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of your animals.”
He patted her shoulder. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
He smiled, a twinkle in his faded blue eyes. Eyes she realized were the same as hers. She’d always wondered where she got her blue eyes. And her stubborn streak. Now she knew. For the first time in a very long time she felt connected. He might not want her, but in her grandfather she’d found someone who might understand who she was and how she felt.
* * *
It was late afternoon when they pulled up to Dan’s camper. Marissa felt a strange sense of coming home. It was a world away from her home. It was completely out of her comfort zone. And yet there was something about this place...the fields, the cattle, even the rooster.
It was change. Maybe that’s what she’d needed.
“You’re actually going to stay here alone?” Alex asked as he moved to get out of the truck.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”
Alex shrugged as he headed for the barn. She hurried to keep up.
“Maybe you didn’t hear Dan, but I did. Your grandmother was a city girl who broke his heart.” He shot her a look. “She told him she wanted this life with him but when it came down to it, she couldn’t hack it.”
“I’m his granddaughter, not his wife. And I want to be here to help him.”
“Suit yourself.”
“So you don’t think I can do this, either, do you?”
He headed through the barn, stopping to give her a look before scooping grain into a bucket. “I make it a habit not to get involved.”
“Then you should go. I’ll feed and do whatever needs to be done here.”
He headed out a side door, whistling shrilly. She heard an answering whinny and then hooves beating across the hard-packed earth.
“You’ll do whatever needs to be done?” He grinned as he poured feed in a trough. “There’s a couple of cows about to calve. Do you know what to do with a downed cow that’s been laboring too long?”
“I can look it up on the internet.”
He grabbed her by the wrist, his hand strong and warm, and they moved back a few steps as a couple of horses headed for the trough. The animals didn’t seem to want to share. Ears were pinned back and one turned to kick at the other. Marissa didn’t need to be told twice to get out of the way of those flying hooves.
“Should you feed them separately?” she asked.
“Nah, they’ll get over it once they get to the business of eating. They’ve been fighting that way for years. That’s what Dan gets for buying mules.”
“They’re horses, aren’t they?”
He