Cowboy Come Home Read Free Page A

a meal when you helped out in the barn. But why don’t you tell us just who you are.”
    He cleared his throat and stiffened his shoulders, as if he was about to impart bad news. “I’m Margaret’s son. Griffin Randall.”

Chapter Two
    I n the silence that fell, Chad stared at Griff and asked, “Who the hell—uh, heck,” he repaired after Megan elbowed him in the ribs, “is Margaret?”
    Red didn’t wait for an answer. Seated at the other end of the table, he stood, his face paling, and began walking toward Griff.
    Ah, here it came, Griff thought almost with relief. He’d been a little lost in the midst of the warm hospitality of these people. He’d expected anger.
    He stood to meet what was coming head-on.
    “You’re Margaret’s son?” Red asked softly, with wonder in his eyes. “How is she? Where is she?”
    “Who is she?” Chad repeated, frowning.
    “She’s Dad’s sister,” Jake explained quietly.
    Red came closer, and Griff thought the old man intended to punch him out. Then, all at once, Red enveloped him in a bear hug. Griff reared back in surprise.
    “Sorry, boy, I startled you, didn’t I?”
    Griff frowned at the older man and nodded his head. “You’re not angry?”
    “Why would I be? We worried about Margaret for years. Gus finally gave her up for dead.”
    “She is dead,” Griffin said harshly. He watched the various reactions of the people gathered around the table.
    Jake stood and extended his hand. Again Griff stared at the gesture. Finally, he gripped Jake’s strong hand and looked into his unknown cousin’s gaze.
    “Welcome home, Griff.”
    “This is not my home.” His words were uttered with the anger he’d expected from them.
    “Maybe not, but it should’ve been,” Jake said, sitting back down. “Don’t let your food get cold. We’ll find out why you’re here later.”
    Griff stared at Jake and then Red. The older man patted his arm and returned to his seat at the head of the table.
    These people weren’t what he expected. In looks, yes, though it had startled him to see how much he resembled his cousins. But, somehow, after listening to his mother’s heartbreaking words when she talked of her home, he’d expected a lot of hostility.
    And he felt a lot of hostility inside himself. His mother had suffered because of these people.
    Or their relatives.
    With a sigh, he sat back down. The lady beside him, Camille, he thought her name was, silently offered a plate of biscuits. When he glared at her, she gave him a sympathetic smile.
    A smile that made her soft blond hair, her blue eyes, her patrician features, even more enticing. And when those attractions were attached to a slender body with curves in all the right places, something he’d noted earlier, she could’ve been a movie star. Why didn’t she belong to one of the testosteronefilled men around the table?
    Because they already had their own beauties.
    So where did she come from?
    “When did your mother die?” Red asked, drawing Griff’s attention back to the present.
    “Last week.”
    His terse response drew a gasp from Red.
    With eyes staring into the distance, Red muttered, “All this time...”
    Mildred reached out for her husband’s hand. He turned to her, a grateful smile on his face. “She was my first love, you know, sweetheart. We grew up together. But she had no time for me.”
    Griff felt relief fill him. For a moment, he’d wondered if Red was his father. His greatest anger was directed toward that unknown man who’d taken his pleasure from Griff’s mother and then refused to be responsible for the result.
    Brett seemed unaware of Griff’s reaction. His attention was on Red. “Is she the reason you didn’t mess with the ladies till Mildred came along?” He grinned. “I didn’t know you were hiding a broken heart all those years.”
    “There’s lots you don’t know, boy,” Red growled.
    Jake uttered one quiet word, and it underlined his position in the family.