The Welcome Home Garden Club (18 page)

Regret tore at her heart. “Of course I still love you. You’re my father.”

“I just wanted you to go to college. To finish your education so you could have a better life. So you could find a life mate.”

“I’d found him, and if you hadn’t sent him off to war, I would have married him. You cheated Gideon and me out of eight years together, then you did the unconscionable and you had Hiram Malone lie to me, write up a false report. You allowed me to believe that Gideon was dead.”

“Caitlyn, please understand. I wanted to protect you. I would have done anything to protect you. Just as you will do anything to protect Danny.”

“I’d never lie to him.”

“But you’re lying to him already. You’ve not yet told him that Gideon is his father. Why is that?”

“I’m not lying,” Caitlyn denied, but guilt flickered in her heart. “I’m waiting for the right time.”

“Because you want to protect him.”

She nodded.

“A lie of omission is still a lie.”

“I can’t just blurt it out like you just did.”

“And you’re terrified he’ll be upset with you.”

“Yes.”

“Now you know how I feel about you.”

“If you feel this badly, how come you haven’t tried to fix it before?”

He spread his hands. “I’m a fallible old man who’s been too vain to admit it. But I want to change. I want to be a part of your life again. Caitlyn, I miss you. You forgave me in the hospital and now I’m holding you to it. I want to know my grandson before it’s too late. I heard he’s on spring break. Please, let him spend a couple of days with me. I’d like to take him to Fort Worth, show him the stockyards, maybe even take a trip to Six Flags.”

“You? At an amusement park? With a soon-to-be eight-year-old?”

“I’ll take Greta. She’s got two nephews about Danny’s age. He’ll have a good time.”

She was about to say no, she was going to say no, but she turned her gaze to the river, saw Gideon was watching them while Danny fished. His words echoed in her ears.
You’re scared to death of letting Danny grow up.

What she said next was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to say. It was a symbolic untying of the apron strings, a letting go of her child, but she forced herself to say it. “If it’s okay with Danny, it’s okay with me.”

Her father’s usually hard face softened. “Caity, darling, you’ve made me the happiest grandfather in Twilight.”

S
o Caitlyn had feet of clay after all.

Gideon had had her up on a pedestal for so long, it was a bit jarring to see her go off on her father like that, but he also found it oddly encouraging. Caitlyn needed a little dust on her halo. And in contrast, maybe his armor wouldn’t look so tarnished.

On the drive home, all Danny could chatter about was his grandfather. After Richard and Caitlyn had finally hashed everything out, her father had helped Danny catch a ten-pound catfish. He’d promised a fish fry at his house the following evening if Danny wanted to come over and spend the night. Richard told him he was welcome to bring his best friend, Charlie, and they could set up a tent in his backyard.

Gideon was happy for the progress that had been made in the family that day, but if he were being honest, he’d admit that he was also jealous. Now, Danny knew that Richard was his grandfather, but because of that revelation, Gideon had to wait even longer to tell Danny that he was his father.

“Mom?” Danny asked from the backseat of the van.

“Yes, honey?”

“Why didn’t you tell me Judge Blackthorne was my granddad?”

Caitlyn glanced out the window. Gideon could see the tension in her stiff shoulders. This was still difficult for her. “Because he and I have been very mad at each other for a very long time.”

“But you’re not mad at him anymore?”

“No.”

“That’s really cool, because he’s got an arrowhead collection he’s going to show me and a Swiss Army knife he said I could have and . . .”

Caitlyn opened her mouth, and Gideon knew she was going to protest the Swiss Army knife, so he beat her to the punch and said, “Apron strings.”

She glared at him and shut her mouth.

It struck him then that he’d become the peacemaker in this family. Funny, he’d never been in the role of peacemaker before, but going to war made a man value peace. He liked this new role. Liked it a lot.

It made him feel productive. It made him feel good.

But most of all, it made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance to finally wash off the sins of the past and make a fresh new start.

Chapter Sixteen

Traditional meaning of orange lily—hatred, disdain.

B
y the time they got home from the outing, Caitlyn was too tired to cook dinner. Not to mention she was still a bit miffed with Gideon for siding with her father.

“Call for pizza,” Gideon said, and pressed a twenty-dollar bill into her hand. “My treat. I’m going to swing by the victory garden and install the carousel horses I finished restoring this week. Two down, fifty-one to go.”

“All right.”

“Should I pick up a DVD on the way home?”

“That sounds nice. Movie and a pizza. See if they have the latest Pixar flick. It’s supposed to be a really good one.”

“Will do.”

Gideon left on his errand. Caitlyn called Pasta Pappa’s, placed an order for an extra-large pepperoni pizza, and then sent Danny off for a bath.

The idea of a family movie night had her relaxing and letting go of the negative energy she’d been holding on to since her run-in with her father. She was still nervous about letting Danny spend the night with his grandfather, but it was a step in the right direction. Perhaps the old wounds could be healed.

Caitlyn was setting the table with paper plates and humming softly to herself when a tap sounded at the back door. “C’mon in,” she called, expecting Kenny, the pizza delivery boy.

The door opened.

“The money is right there on the hutch.” Caitlyn turned. “I—”

The words died in her throat. It wasn’t the sixteen-year-old, pimply-faced Kenny Johnstone she was expecting, but rather Bowie Goodnight shrinking her cozy kitchen with his oversized frame.

“Wha . . . what are you doing here?” she whispered, alarmed, blood bulleting through her temples.

Bowie’s face looked chiseled from granite, as did his muscular forearms protruding from the sleeves of his black T-shirt, the material stretched tight against his hard biceps. His eyes were narrow black orbs, his nose hawkish. His sharp-edged smile said that he could have gone fifteen rounds with Mike Tyson and won. And he reeked of bourbon.

Immediately, Caitlyn understood how her hens felt when a raptor flew overhead. Panicked. Terrified.

“Hello, Caitlyn,” he said in a surprisingly soothing voice that only served to unnerve her more. “I’m here to see Gideon.”

“Um,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say.

“I heard he was living here.”

“Yes. He should be back any minute.”

“Wonderful, you don’t mind if I wait, do you?” Bowie reached over, pulled out a kitchen chair that, in contrast to his bulk, looked like a dollhouse accessory. She remembered the way he’d attacked Crockett in her flower shop the day J. Foster had died.

She didn’t know what to do. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Nope.” Bowie’s smile, full of malice and disdain, chilled her to the bone. “This is between him and me.”

“Maybe you could come back when he’s here.” Nervously, she shifted her weight, rested her bandaged hand on the counter; holding it down was making it throb.

Bowie’s nose twitched, as if he could smell her fear. “What happened?”

“Huh?” She startled, realized she’d been staring at him as if in a trance.

“Your hand.” He nodded at her bandaged arm. “What’d you do to your southpaw?”

“Gardening accident.”

He laughed as if she’d said something hysterically funny.

Caitlyn gnawed her bottom lip, and then realized that made her look anxious, so she forced herself to stop.

Bowie studied her with interest. “You and Gideon are . . . ?”

“Friends.”

“Friends with benefits?” He arched his eyebrows, smirked, raked a seductive gaze over her body.

She started to ask him to leave, but then another knock at the back door interrupted her.

“My guess is that’s the person you were expecting before,” Bowie said.

Caitlyn ignored that, crossed the room to snatch the money off the hutch, and opened the door. Kenny was waiting with a ready smile. “Hey, Mrs. M—” He broke off when he saw Bowie. “Hey, dude, is that your camo Hummer parked in the back alley?”

“It is,” Bowie said.

“Sweet.”

“Sweet doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“Badass?”

“Ten different kinds of badass,” Bowie assured the ungainly teen.

“Dude, my girlfriend would go apeshit crazy if I showed up for a date in that thing.”

“I’m sure.”

Kenny slipped the pizza box from the warming container. She noticed Pasta Pappa’s had changed the logo on the front of the box. For some bizarre reason they’d replaced the original disc shape with an orange lily twined around a slice of pizza. Then she remembered the wife of the new owner of Pasta Pappa’s was named Lily. Inanely, she wondered if she should tell her that an orange lily represented hatred and disdain.

“How much does one of the beauties go for?” Kenny asked, referring to Bowie’s Hummer.

“Don’t know. I inherited it.”

“Awesome!” Kenny’s voice went up an octave.

Caitlyn wished both men would leave her house. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I think I’m going to call Gideon and see what’s keeping him.”

“You go right ahead.” Bowie got up and ambled toward the pizza box. “You won’t mind if I have a piece.” He said it as a statement, not a question. “Want a slice, Kenny?”

“Naw dude, I’m burned out on pizza. Working at an Italian restaurant will do that to you.”

Bowie picked up a slice of pepperoni. His proprietary manner angered her. Caitlyn hurried to the purse she kept hung over the doorknob in the hallway and took out her cell phone. Quickly, she punched in Gideon’s number.

It rang six times and then went to voice mail.
Crap.

“Gideon, this is Caitlyn. Bowie Goodnight is here in my house. Just opened the door and walked right in. He says he wants to see you, and by the way, I think he’s drunk.” She wanted to let Gideon know she felt uneasy with him in her house, but she was afraid Bowie could overhear the conversation. “Could you come on home as soon as you get this message?”

She hung up and reluctantly went back to the kitchen. Kenny was still there, peppering Bowie with questions about the Hummer.

“He on his way?” Bowie asked.

“Yes,” she lied.

“That’s good. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Which is?” she asked boldly.

“Between me and Garza.” Bowie took another slice of pizza from the box.

It pissed her off that he was eating their pizza, but she was honestly afraid of him and what might happen if she told him to stop.

“Hey,” Bowie said, and wiped a string of mozzarella from his chin with the back of a hammy hand. “This is really good. Got any beer?” He ambled over to the refrigerator, opened it up. “Pizza always goes down better with a cold beer.”

Gideon had bought a six-pack of malt beers a few days earlier. Five still sat in the fridge. Bowie took one, twisted the top off. “You want one? You look like you could use one. Your forehead’s all scrunched up.” He mimicked her frown.

Caitlyn shook her head.

“You want one?” he asked Kenny.

“Yeah.”

“He’s only sixteen.” Caitlyn glowered.

“Oops, sorry, no can do, kid,” Bowie said in a way that let Caitlyn know that if she wasn’t in the room, he would have given a minor alcohol.

“Well,” Kenny said. “I better get back to the restaurant. My boss keeps me on a short chain.”

“Poor you,” Bowie said, and drank half the beer in one long swallow.

Kenny sidled out the door and Caitlyn tried to think of a diplomatic way of asking Bowie to leave without antagonizing him. It had been a very long time since she’d been unnerved. A couple of years ago one of the Alzheimer’s patients had escaped from the local care facility and come rushing into the flower shop, acting erratic and accusing her of trying to kill him. She felt the same way now as she had then.

Just a minute after Kenny had departed, Gideon came rushing in the back door, a steely expression in his eyes. “Goodnight.” He spat out the name like it tasted bad.

“Well, looky who’s here,” Bowie drawled. “If it isn’t the favored son.”

“Let’s take a walk outside.” Gideon reached for his elbow, but his half brother slung him off.

“Don’t you touch me.”

Gideon got in his face. “Don’t
you
come threatening me and my family.”

Unexpectedly, Bowie grinned. “Hey, who said anything about threatening you.” He looked over at Caitlyn. “Did I threaten him?”

Gideon tensed. “Outside.”

Bowie looked like he was going to argue, but then he nodded and echoed, “Outside.”

T
he minute Gideon had Bowie outside the house, he squeezed the other man’s arm with all the strength in his fingers. “Don’t you ever pull any bullshit like that again.”

“What?” Bowie grinned, letting him know the iron-claw grip didn’t faze him. “I just dropped by to see my long-lost brother and have a nice little chat with his gorgeous girlfriend. So sweet and innocent.”

“You stay away from her,” Gideon said.

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Hatred shone in Bowie’s eyes. “You might as well kill me. You’ve taken the only thing I care about.”

“Don’t push me, fuckwad.” Gideon slammed him up against the side of the house, put his elbow to his throat, shoved his face into Bowie’s. “Don’t let the hand fool you. I was a Green Beret.”

“Look,” Bowie said. “I didn’t come here to start any trouble.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Yeah? So what?”

“You walk into our home without being invited. You terrify my . . . Caitlyn.”

“I didn’t terrify her. I just helped myself to pizza and beer. Rude maybe, but terrifying? I don’t think so. I am your brother after all. LaVon got the DNA results back. It’s official. We’re kin.”

“Is that what you came here to tell me?”

“Among other things.”

“What other things?”

Bowie held up both hands. “Honest to God, I just want to talk.”

“So talk.”

“I want to buy the Rocking J from you.”

“It’s not mine yet. You’re contesting the will, tying it up in probate. You’re free to live there until the will is duly probated.”

“It’s not enough. That ranch means everything to me and I can’t—
won’t
lose it.”

“There you go with the threats again. That’s not the way to get what you want.”

“Then what is? You tell me? What’s your currency, Garza?”

“My family. You threaten them again and next time I won’t be so understanding.”

“Your family? Caitlyn’s not your wife, Danny’s not your—” Realization dawned in Bowie’s eyes. “Hot damn, Danny is your son. Why didn’t I see that before? Of course. He looks nothing like Kevin. He looks like a Goodnight.”

Apprehension settled on Gideon’s shoulders. He’d just made a huge mistake by giving away Danny’s identity.

“Pretty ironic when you think about it. You’re J. Foster’s bastard child, Danny is yours.”

Venomous anger shot through Gideon. He felt it boil through his veins, furious and fierce. In that moment, he was total warrior, all civility forgotten. Let out of its cage, the monster reared up in him, blind and unreasonable. He grabbed Bowie by the arm, twisted it around his back and pulled it up high and tight.

Bowie yelped.

Gideon yanked him toward the Hummer parked so arrogantly in Caitlyn’s driveway.

Bowie stumbled, screamed as Gideon kept yanking his arm, unrelenting and unrepentant. He swung open the door of the haughty vehicle and shoved Bowie inside. “Get out of here right now and don’t let me ever catch you on Caitlyn’s property again. Or you’ll be crying out to God to save you from me.”

Bowie started the engine, put the Hummer in gear, and backed it from the driveway with a screech of tires. Breathing hard, Gideon turned to see Caitlyn standing in the doorway. She’d seen everything he’d done. Witnessed just a tiny part of what he was capable of.

Dread took hold of him then. Dread and doubt and insecurity. Would she turn away from him? Tell him to leave? Say that he was too violent to be around her son?

He waited, unmoving, unable to read her thoughts on her face.

Then she stepped across the space between them, slipped her arm around his waist. “C’mon in,” she murmured. “And I’ll heat up the pizza.”

G
ideon made her feel safe in a way that Kevin never had. Easygoing Kevin would have probably sat down and had a beer with Bowie, clueless as to why Caitlyn had felt threatened.

But Gideon was different. One look into her face and he’d known. He hadn’t hesitated. He’d dragged Bowie into the yard and made it perfectly clear that kind of behavior was not welcome in this house.

Caitlyn sneaked a glance over at Gideon. They were all three sitting on the couch, Gideon on one side, Caitlyn on the other, and Danny in between. Danny was laughing at some cartoon antics on the television screen, but Caitlyn wasn’t paying any attention to the movie. She had a feeling Gideon wasn’t either.

The electrical energy between them was almost palpable. Gideon had his right arm stretched out across the back of the couch. Intentionally, Caitlyn stretched her left arm out beside his.

A minute passed. They sat there, arms touching, their son between them.

Caitlyn became aware of a tickling sensation at her wrist. She didn’t look over as Gideon lightly traced his fingers along the line of her scar. The sutures hadn’t come out yet, and the area was still sensitive. Yet his touch was so gentle, the contact felt good, soothing. He could be so forceful—as he’d been with Bowie—while at the same time he could be so incredibly tender with her and Danny.

But today, something had changed.

In him.

In her.

In them both.

T
he next morning, Danny went to his grandfather’s house for a two-night stay. It was hard for Caitlyn to let him go, but she did it. Not only for her son’s sake, but also for her own. By doing so, she took the first step toward healing the rift that had begun so long ago.

Danny smiled and waved good-bye as he drove off with the judge in his Cadillac. Caitlyn’s heart wrenched.

Gideon put his arm around her waist, leaned in close, and whispered, “You’re such a good mother. I’m so proud of you.”