Michael's father (21 page)

*'Kel ever tell you about his mother?" The question appeared to be a non sequitur, but Megan was sure Gracie had a reason for asking it.

"No. Colleen told me she left when Colleen was just a baby. Other than that, I don't recall any mention of her."

"There wouldn't have been." Gracie stared into her coffee cup and Megan had the feeling that she was holding some sort of debate with herself. She appeared to come to some decision because she sighed and began to speak.

"Truth is, the only good thing that woman ever did in her life was have those two children. I came here right after they were married because Susan was too delicate to take care of this house. DeUcate." She snorted. "Woman was about as delicate as a barracuda and had a temper to match. Beautiful, though. Red hair, green eyes—if a body wanted to paint a temptress, Susan Bryan would have made a good model."

Megan's coffee sat untouched in front of her as she listened, fascinated by this sudden spate of information.

''My husband and I hadn't been married long and he came to work for Kel's daddy same time I came to work in the house. It was obvious pretty quick that the boss's new wife wasn't particularly suited to Uving here. She wanted clothes and parties, to see and be seen. Nothin' wrong with that, I guess," she added, obviously attempting to be fair. "But a working ranch ain't the place to find that sort of thing."

She stopped and Megan waited, hardly breathing, afraid that she wasn't going to hear the rest of the story. But after a moment, Gracie went on.

**Kel loved her, of course. She was beautiful and glamorous and fond enough of the boy, 'specially since he worshiped her. He was about five the first time she left. She was gone a year or so, came back for six months, long enough to sink her claws into the two of them and then took off again. That's pretty much the way it went for the next six or seven years. She was gone more often than not, but just about the time you'd start to think she was gone for good, she'd turn up like a bad penny."

"It must have been very difficult for Kel and for his father," Megan said, trying to imagine what it would be like to have a parent like that. She wondered if the total abandonment she'd experienced might not have been kinder in the long run. At least she hadn't had her hopes raised again and again, only to see them dashed.

"It was pure hell," Gracie said bluntly. "Colleen was bom a few months after one of Susan's visits. She

brought the baby home, stayed a few weeks and then took off again. She didn't visit as much after that, every few years, maybe. Colleen hardly knew her and didn't seem to mind it much. I think it was harder for Kel.

"Last time Susan came home, Colleen was eight or so. And this time, Patrick, KeFs daddy, he told her not to come back again, that he was filing for divorce and that she could stay the hell out of all their Uves." Gracie shifted the coffee cup back and forth between her hands, watching the motion.

**I guess she never thought he'd get to that point, and she was madder than a wet hen about having her httle game ended. Ran into Colleen on the way out of the house and told the girl that Patrick might not be her real father. Did it out of pure spite, trying to get back at Patrick."

Megan gasped, finding it hard to believe that any woman could be so cruel to her own child. She reached out to touch Michael's shoulder, more to reassure herself than him. He looked at her and gave her a toothy, mashed-banana-and-cereal smile that only a mother could have loved.

"Colleen was upset but Patrick told her she was not to think about it. She was his daughter and that was that. She was young enough, I guess, to accept his word for it. But Kel never forgave his mother. She showed up for Patrick's funeral a few years later and Kel threw her out, told her if he ever saw her again, he wouldn't be held responsible for his actions."

"I can't blame him," Megan said.

"No. But it's hard on a boy to hate his mother like that, even if she deserves it. And then he upped and

married a girl who was Susan's spitting image. Oh, not her malice. There aren't many women who could match Susan there. But Roxanne was no more suited to living on a ranch than his mother had been. Pretty as a picture and useless as tits on a boar hog," Grade summed up bluntly.

"Was he... Did he love her very much?"

"No." The flat answer brought Megan's eyes to the older woman's face. "I think he was just as glad to see her go as she was to be going. But she didn't do anything to make him trust his own feelings when it comes to women."

Megan kept her eyes on Michael, who was happily smearing cereal from one end of the metal tray to another. When the silence continued to stretch, she sighed and looked at the older woman.

"Why did you tell me this?" She thought she could guess the answer.

"Because I thought it might help you to know the reasons if Kel isn't very good at saying what he's feeling. I don't normally gossip, but that boy means as much to me as if he were my own son, and I'd hate to see him lose out on a chance for happiness just because he doesn't have the sense to ask for what he wants."

She didn't seem to expect an answer, which was just as well because Megan wasn't sure she could have come up with one. She stayed where she was when Grade got up and lifted Michael out of his high chair, muttering about him wearing more food than he ate. Michael grinned at her, well aware that Grade was his adoring slave.

Megan stared into the murky depths of her coffee cup, aware of a dull pain somewhere behind her breastbone. Funny, how much it hurt to have Gracie imply that Kel loved her and just couldn't say the words. If only that were true.

With a sigh, she stood up and turned to take a freshly washed Michael from Gracie's strong hands. She gave the older woman what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It was too bad that Oracle's romantic fantasies were destined for disappointment. And it was too bad that her own heart was destined to be broken again.

It had been a long time since Kel had felt so much personal turmoil. Having Michael in his life had filled an emptiness he hadn't even known was there. He loved the boy more than he'd have believed possible. From his rich, httle-boy laugh to his talent for getting into mischief, Kel was convinced there was no more perfect child in the state of Wyoming.

His feelings for Michael's mother were considerably less straightforward. There was a lingering anger over the way she'd kept Michael from him, but the more time he spent around her, the more he found himself thinking of how she brightened his life, remembering how empty the house had seemed after she'd left three years ago. And since the kiss they'd shared two weeks ago, he'd been vividly reminded of just how empty his bed had seemed without her.

The steady rhythm of the currybrush across Dude's flank faltered as Kel stared across the animal's back at the wall of the bam. It wasn't just the house or even his bed that had felt empty. It was his Ufe. If Michael

filled up an empty place he'd never known he had, then Megan filled one that had been there as long as he could remember.

She made him want to believe in things he'd long ago decided weren't in the cards for him. Things like love. And marriage. Things like happily ever after. Things that were likely to leave him with an aching hole in his gut when she left. And what did that say about what he felt for her?

Kel shied away from the question, more than a little afraid he wouldn't like the answer. He reached up to scratch Dude behind the ear. **You don't know how easy you've got it, buddy." Dude snorted, as if to say that Kel wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.

Kel put away the currycomb and let himself out of the stall. It was almost dinnertime so he went up to the house to shower before the meal. He'd just pushed open his bedroom door when he heard the sound of Michael's laughter coming from the room across the hall. An instant later, he heard Megan laugh, a happy, young sound he'd heard all too little of lately. As if that laughter was a magnet, he turned toward it, his mouth curving.

Megan's door was partially open. She didn't notice when he pushed it a few more inches and stepped into the doorway. She and Michael were wrestling on the bed. As near as he could tell from the tangle of arms and legs, Megan was trying to put a pair of pants on her son and he was trying equally hard to avoid that fate. From the giggles and laughter, it was obvious that neither of them was taking the battle seriously.

Kel leaned his shoulder against the door jamb and enjoyed the scene before him. This was how it should be, he thought. The only thing he would have changed was to add himself to the picture. But Megan had been so skittish around him since that kiss that he knew his presence would only spoil the moment. He started to step back and leave them to their play, but Michael's bright eyes had found him.

**Daddy!'* His shrill cry held nothing but welcome, and Kel felt the familiar melting sensation in his chest. Megan threw him a startled look and quickly sat up, releasing Michael, who promptly scrambled off the bed and ran to his father.

**Hi, sport." Kel caught him under the arms and swung the boy up over his head, grinning at the delighted shriek this evoked. "Looks like you just about had your mother buffaloed."

Michael didn't know what buffaloed meant but he proceeded to explain in detail his strategy for winning the Battle of the Pants. At least that's what Kel assumed he was discussing. Michael's thoughts were inclined to run ahead of his available vocabulary, which made conversations with him largely a game of fill in the blanks.

Watching the two of them together, Megan had to bhnk back tears. Kel listened carefully to what Michael was saying. With their heads together, the resemblance between the two of them was striking. No one could ever mistake them for anything other than father and son.

"How about you get dressed for supper, now?" Kel said, after expressing appropriate admiration for his son's efforts to avoid his fate. Michael looked dubi-

ous about this idea as Kel carried him over to where Megan still sat on the bed.

**You think between the two of us, we can get a pair of pants on this one?" he asked.

''I don't know. He may be tougher than both of us."

Kel dangled Michael in midair while Megan threaded the pants on his legs. Since Michael decided that kicking his legs made the game much more interesting, this wasn't as easy as it might have been. But civilization triumphed and the small pants were finally in place.

"Stubborn little cuss, isn't he," Kiel said. He bent to rub his nose against Michael's neck, eliciting peals of laughter.

''Takes after his father," Megan said, smiling as she stood up.

**Me?" He widened his eyes in shock. "Not a stub-bom bone in my body," he protested.

"Of course not." Megan's look was patently disbelieving. "Give me the imp and I'll see if I can get a comb near that head of his."

"I guess I'd better go get cleaned up. If I show up like this. Grade will cut off my end of the table."

He started to hand Michael over to her, but during the transfer, Michael shifted abruptly, flinging his arms around his mother's neck, and the back of Kel's hand ended up pressed firmly against Megan's breast. Megan froze, her eyes flying to his face.

In an instant, all the tension was back between them. All the unspoken wants, the unfulfilled needs suddenly crackled in the air like lightning. Megan felt her nipple tighten and knew that Kel couldn't possi-

bly miss the small betrayal. She saw the hunger in his eyes and knew that, if it hadn't been for Michael's presence, they'd already be on the bed.

Kel's hand moved, sliding from between her body and Michael's with agonizing slowness. They stared at each other, and Megan wondered if he could hear the rapid beat of her pulse, if he could sense that her body was more than ready to receive his. For an instant, she wished her son was anywhere but where he was. If only she and Kel were alone, this aching hunger could be assuaged.

"Down." Michael's demand was punctuated by an impatient wiggle and the moment was broken.

"I'll see you at dinner," Kel said, his voice a little rougher than usual.

"Yes." Megan bent to set Michael on the floor and didn't lift her head until she heard the door shut behind Kel. She took a deep, shuddering breath and pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks, carefully avoiding her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. She didn't want to see the stars in her eyes or the fear that lay behind them.

Megan poured milk into a small saucepan and set it on the stove to heat. Around her, the house was quiet, asleep, just as she should have been, she reminded herself. It was one o'clock in the morning and she should have been sound asleep instead of tiptoeing around the kitchen making cocoa. But three hours of tossing and turning had gained her nothing but a tangled bed and the threat of a headache.

She got out a mug and spooned cocoa and sugar into it, stirring the two together. The weather repoTt

had made no m^ition of a storm in the offing, but the way her skin tingled suggested otherwise. Of course, her storm had a name.

Kel Bryan.

Megan rubbed her hands over her upper arms, h^ eyes focusing on nothing in particular. She could still feel the pressure of his hand against her breast as if the imprint of it had been burned into her skin. All through dinner, she'd been acutely aware of him, of his every move.

Her stomach tight with tension, she'd barely touched her meal and had to fend off Grade's concerned inquiries and comments about how she needed more meat on her bones. She'd seen Kel's gaze wander over h^ as if to check the accuracy of Grade's wbrds, and when he'd lifted his gaze to her face, the look in his eyes had expressed nothing but approval. The bones that so worried Gracie had nearly melted.

"Up kind of late, aren't you?"

At the sound of Kel's quiet voice, Megan shivered and closed her eyes. She wasn't surprised that he was here, she realized. It was as if she'd been expecting him all along.

**I couldn't sleep," she said, turning to face him. Not a good idea, she dedded immediately.

She hadn't bothered to turn on any lights except one over the counter. In the shadowy light, he looked very large and very male. He must have gotten out of bed. He'd tugged on a pair of jeans, which he'd zipped but hadn't bothered to snap. His chest was bare, and Megan felt her mouth go dry as her ^es clung to the broad-muscled width of his shoulders.