My Dearest Cal (19 page)

As soon as they were all in the car, Cal turned to Marilou. “I suppose you know exactly where you want to go.”

She grinned. “Well, your grandmother did mention that there was a creek along the eastern edge of the property.”

He sighed. “How far?”

Marilou exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Mrs. McDonald. “Not far,” they said in unison.

It took a little over an hour to get there. Cal was muttering under his breath by the time they finally came to the creek that wound its way through the distant pastures. Even he had to admit, though, that
the setting was spectacular. Wildflowers had painted the spring landscape in shades of purple, yellow and red. Sunlight glinted off the shallow creek bed. Cattle roamed in the distance. And on the far edge of the horizon were the faint purple shadows of the mountains.

From the back seat of the car, Marilou heard Mrs. McDonald sigh. “It’s every bit as beautiful this time of year as I remember,” she said.

Cal turned to study her, a worried frown on his brow. “How long has it been since you were out here?”

“A while,” she evaded.

“Grandmother?”

“Last spring.”

“Why so long?”

Marilou already knew the answer to that. Elena had confided that over the past year Mrs. McDonald had found it increasingly difficult to get around. The doctors blamed it on osteoporosis and arthritis. There were days, the housekeeper lamented, when the old woman wasn’t able to get out of bed at all. Even now she was in far more pain than she’d been letting on to the two of them, but she’d apparently been determined that Cal would never see it. Marilou felt it wasn’t her secret to share, but she hoped that soon Mrs. McDonald would tell Cal the whole truth about her rapidly deteriorating condition. She also knew that the old woman didn’t want him staying on out of pity.

Even now she didn’t so much as hint at the truth.
She merely said, “I was busy. Besides, I pay that lazy manager to see to things for me.”

“If you don’t trust your books to anyone, how can you entrust responsibility for the rest to someone you’ve repeatedly described to me as lazy and inept?”

“What choice do I have? I can’t ride a horse anymore. The men don’t take orders well from an old lady. Even Garrett’s got more command over them than I would.”

“Maybe I should have a talk with him.”

Mrs. McDonald smiled contentedly. “Yes, dear, why don’t you do that? I expect Garrett back any day now.”

“If you think this Garrett’s reliable, maybe you should try giving him more authority. I suspect he’s chafing at the bit to really take charge of this place.”

“That chance will come along soon enough. When I can’t draw breath enough to make a few decisions, I’ll just lay down and die. Then, since you keep insisting that you will be nothing more than an absentee landlord, Garrett can take over.”

Marilou caught Cal’s agitation. He was practically grinding his teeth. “Grandmother, how many times do I have to tell you that I do not want you to leave this place to me?”

She waved off his comment, as she had each of the other times. “And just who should I leave it to, if not to family?”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally he suggested quietly, “You could leave it to Mother.”

“She turned her back on it.”

“You sent her away.”

“She could have come back.”

“Hat in hand, I suppose?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I never wanted her to beg. It would have been better for everyone if I’d been wrong about the marriage. I wasn’t.”

“You told me you’re sorry. Why can’t you tell her?”

“I told her. She didn’t want to hear it.”

“That was years ago. Try again.”

Marilou was startled by Cal’s vehemence. He’d made a lot of strides in his relationship with his grandmother, but she hadn’t expected him to suddenly take his mother’s side this way. Maybe everything was going to fall into place just the way she’d imagined it. Sitting out here in the warm spring air, the sun bright in the clearest blue sky she’d ever seen, it was possible once again to believe in miracles and happy endings.

“Maybe you could call her,” she suggested hesitantly. The last time she’d suggested he work for a reconciliation between his mother and grandmother, he’d bitten her head off. Today he seemed mellow enough to listen.

“It’s not my fight,” he said, staring pointedly at his grandmother.

“That doesn’t mean…”

Mrs. McDonald touched Marilou’s hand. “No, girl, he’s right. This is something I should do…if anyone does it.”

“Will you, then?” Marilou asked with surprising urgency. In her heart she knew that this was the final step if any real healing was ever to take place.

Mrs. McDonald stared at her. “My dear, why does this matter so much to you?”

She shrugged. “I know it’s none of my business.”

“That isn’t what I said. Why do you feel so strongly about it?”

“I just think families ought to stick together. You’ve been talking about family history ever since we got here. Don’t you have some responsibility to see that the tradition goes on?” she challenged.

The old woman’s gaze faltered at that. Then she sighed. “I’ll give it some thought. Now why don’t you two go take a walk together? I’m sure you’d like some time alone.”

Cal’s eyes met Marilou’s and he winked.

“How do you know we haven’t been sneaking off to be together at night?”

“Because the floorboards in that hall creak under a mouse’s step. You two have been staying put, just like I told you to.”

“That’s no way to get great-grandchildren,” Cal challenged, sending Marilou’s pulse caroming wildly.

His grandmother waved her cane at him. “There will be no illegitimate great-grandbabies in this family. Not if I have anything to say about it. You make an honest woman of this girl and I’ll build you a whole private suite.”

Marilou’s breath caught in her throat as she watched for Cal’s reaction. His expression sobered at

once, all too quickly it seemed to her. Suddenly she wanted to run, to feel the warm breeze against her cheeks, the grass against her bare feet. She wanted to get away from Cal and his insensitive teasing, and from all the things that could never be.

Cal was already standing over her, though, his hand extended. “Come on. It seems we’re not needed around here.”

Marilou was slow to get up, unwilling to be lured into Cal’s spell so easily. Stalling for time, she turned to Mrs. McDonald worriedly. “What will you do?”

“I’ll do some thinking, maybe a little remembering. I’ll be just fine. Run along and enjoy yourselves.”

They were barely out of sight before Cal slid his arms around Marilou’s waist and pulled her tight against him. His lips met hers, lightly at first, then with more demand. She tried to hold back, tried not to let his warmth flood through her, his mouth persuade her, but it was useless. She would have forever to miss being in his arms. She wouldn’t give up the spine-tingling sensations—couldn’t give them up—before she had to.

Chapter Thirteen

K
eeping his defenses securely in place was getting to be increasingly difficult for Cal. As a hardheaded businessman himself, his admiration for his grandmother’s gritty determination and amazing spirit grew day by day, though he wasn’t about to tell her that. She was too damned sure of herself as it was. Admittedly, though, the thriving ranch was a testament to her intelligence and feistiness. It couldn’t have been easy for a woman in her position to take on such a vast empire back during the Depression and keep it going during decades when others had been turning their property over to oil exploration or sheep ranching.

“Once a cattleman, always a cattleman,” she said staunchly when he asked how she had withstood the pressures to change.

“Sometimes being a stubborn, willful woman has served you well,” he noted wryly.

“It has always served me well,” she corrected with a smile.

“You really must do something about those books, though. And I’d like to see you diversifying your investments. Why don’t I bring Joshua out for a few days to help you out?”

His grandmother regarded him suspiciously. “Who is this Joshua person?”

“My accountant and my friend. I’ve known him almost all my life. He’s the most trustworthy, honorable man I know. I’ll have him fly out tomorrow, in fact,” he said decisively. Once he knew his grandmother’s finances were under control, he’d feel free to go back to Florida. This was definitely the best course of action, he thought, though Marilou was staring at him, her expression horrified.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, though he suspected he knew.

“Don’t you think you ought to speak with Joshua first, before making that kind of commitment for him?”

That was the last thing he’d been expecting. He’d anticipated another lecture on running away. “Why?”

“Cal, you’ve said it yourself. He hates isolation. This place would make him crazy. Isn’t there someone else you could hire?”

“I’m not asking him to move here, just to spend a couple of days.”

“He’ll consider it a lifetime. He got nervous the minute he set foot outside his car that day he drove over to Ocala.”

Somehow he found it irritating that Marilou had zeroed in so readily on Joshua’s idiosyncrasies and now felt compelled to jump to his defense.

“He’ll survive,” he grumbled. “In fact, the change will do him good. He’s too stuffy for his own good. He could use a little adventure in his life.”

“Garrett might make it a little more palatable for him,” his grandmother said slyly.

Cal and Marilou whirled on her. “What?” they said in unison.

“She’s a real beauty, though there’s not a sign that she’s aware of it.”

“Garrett is a woman?” Cal said incredulously.

His grandmother stared at him with masterful innocence. “Of course, she is.”

“
Of course?
You never said.”

“You never asked.”

“That seems to be a problem of his,” Marilou piped in cheerfully. Cal glared at her.

“Why does it bother you so much that my foreman is a woman?”

“It doesn’t bother me. It just surprises me.”

“And you don’t like surprises,” Marilou inserted. “Any more than Joshua would. You can’t drag him into this without warning him, Cal.”

“About what, Garrett?”

“Oh, stop being impossible. I suspect Joshua knows how to handle most women.”

“I repeat,” his grandmother said, “he hasn’t met Garrett.”

“Did someone mention my name?” a slender blonde asked from the doorway.

Marilou was gaping. With her long legs and tiny waist, Garrett belonged on the cover of a magazine, something definitely more upscale than a farm journal. Her hair fell nearly to her hips, her features were fragile, but there was a lean athleticism about her that no doubt came from years of handling heavy chores. Men’s chores.

“You’re Garrett?” Cal said, knowing Marilou was watching Garrett speculatively, clearly sizing her up with her finely honed woman’s intuition. From the grin that was slowly spreading across Marilou’s face, he forgot all about jealousy and decided that Joshua’s bachelor days were seriously numbered. He noticed that she didn’t voice another objection to calling his friend.

“I’m surprised,” he said finally, grasping the hand that was held out to him.

Garrett turned a chiding gaze on his grandmother. “She loves to do that to people. My real name is Tracy Garrett. If I hadn’t gotten hooked on using my last name years ago, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Sorry I was away when you arrived. Mrs. Mac sent me over to Montana to take a look at some stock.”

“What did you think?” his grandmother asked, suddenly all business. “Did you spend a bundle of my money?”

“I left you pocket change,” Garrett retorted, then gave a concise but obviously knowledgeable report, including the amount she’d spent for the cattle. He listened closely, impressed not only with her acumen, but with the way his grandmother deferred to her judgment. She didn’t bat an eye at a dollar figure that had Marilou gasping and even left him a little startled. Apparently even at eighty there was nothing conservative about his grandmother’s approach to business.

Dinner turned into a lively affair. Garrett had a knack for keeping everyone off guard with her insightful comments and wry wit. There was absolutely no pretense about her, not in the way she dressed or the straightforward way she talked. And Casey, her twelve-year-old daughter, was a real hellion. She and his grandmother had a rapport that made Cal oddly envious.

He felt ridiculous being jealous of a precocious child, but he couldn’t help wondering how much different his life might have been if he’d grown up around here, instead of turning up years later as an interloper. He was feeling easier here by the day, more at home. Not that he intended for one second to stay, but at least he wasn’t on pins and needles with the anxious need to run. He was glad, after all, that he’d had this chance to meet the old woman, and he owed Marilou for that.

He glanced across the table and saw that she was thoroughly engrossed in the lively conversation between his grandmother and Garrett. One of the things he loved the most about Marilou was the way she fit
in without needing to be the center of attention. Few women could do that happily, but she seemed to thrive on staying in the background and seeing that everyone else had a wonderful time. It was a knack that he was increasingly coming to treasure.

She looked up just then, caught him watching her and smiled. Her green eyes shimmered in the candlelight in a way that made his heart skid wildly. Suddenly he needed her, wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. Regret over the distance they’d been forced to keep between them the past few days slammed into him.

He leaned closer. “Feel like a walk?” he whispered under his breath, reaching for her hand beneath the table. He captured it in her lap, watching with delight as fire crept into her cheeks.

“Shouldn’t we stay?” she said, her rapt gaze never leaving his face.

He glanced toward his grandmother, who nodded subtly. “Oh, I think we’d be forgiven,” he said.

“Can I come?” Garrett’s daughter chimed in, already partway out of her chair, confident of her welcome.