Rescued by the Rancher (10 page)

“What are you doing tonight?”

Two things occurred to him at the same time. Number one was this was the first time Meredith had initiated any plans between them. Number two was that it was Sunday night. Shit.

Her face started to go red when he didn’t answer her right away. “Do you mind a night in?”

She smiled and shook her head.

“Can you finish your work by eight o’clock? We need to be settled in by eight.”

“Settled in?”

He nodded, then bent down to kiss her.

…

At exactly seven forty-five, Meredith was following Gage up the staircase at the ranch house. She was trying to focus on this piece of intriguing info about Gage and not on his butt in the dark jeans that molded to his hard body. “We’re going to Mrs. H’s apartment?”

“Yep. And you’ll have to stop checking me out until we’re done here.” He turned around to give her a quick kiss, and she didn’t even bother trying to deny that she was most certainly checking him out. He stopped outside the door that led to the housekeeper’s third-floor apartment, gave two loud knocks, and then swung it open. There were obviously many more sides to Gage than she knew about, including his relationship with Mrs. Harris.

Gage waited for Meredith to walk through. She shot him a smile and then entered. The smell of fresh coffee greeted them. Gage grabbed her hand as they waited for Mrs. H to come to the entryway.

“Gage, is that you, dear?”

“It is. Meredith is here, too.”

Mrs. Harris appeared at the top of the stairs dressed in a bright purple velour jogging suit. Meredith had never seen the housekeeper in such casual attire. “Meredith, I’m so happy you’re joining us. Come and make yourself comfortable, my dear.”

Meredith smiled at her and walked into the large, open space that Mrs. H led them to. It was warm and cheery. Brightly patterned quilts were casually laid over the pair of red-and-white-checked sofas. The peaked ceiling made the large space cozy. “Now I think I have everything ready,” she said, pointing to the coffee table that looked as though it was ready to collapse under the weight of the food. Meredith watched Gage, who was already poking his head around, eyeing the snacks.

“Mrs. H, no chocolate cake?”

“Oh my goodness! How could I have forgotten it in the kitchen? Would you be a dear and fetch it for us, Gage?”

“Absolutely,” he said, darting out of the room. “I gotta get that before Cole realizes it’s still in the kitchen.” Meredith tried to process this entire situation. Gage and Mrs. Harris seemed very close.

Mrs. Harris turned to her. “That boy has such a sweet tooth. Come, sit, dear.” She patted the spot beside her on the large couch. “Not that you’d ever know it. He’s as lean as a whip, that one. Handsome, too.”

Meredith opened her mouth to say something neutral, but Mrs. Harris beat her to it. “He may look all tough and buff on the outside, but that boy has a heart of gold. Heart. Of. Gold.”

Meredith smiled and nodded. She was beginning to see that in him. Or maybe she’d known since the first night at the ranch.

“Men like Gage are hard to find. My husband wasn’t a thing like him,” she said, shaking her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry” Meredith didn’t know anything about Mrs. Harris’s life before Tall Pines.

“Yes, sirree. He was a bastard, though, so I divorced him, dropped his ass.”

Meredith’s mouth dropped open as Mrs. Harris leaned back into the couch, the velour sweater stretching tautly over her generous proportions.

“I can tell I’ve startled you. I don’t talk about that time in my life too much. I was young. I didn’t realize what kind of a man he was until we were married. Ignored the signs, I guess. I was naive.”

Meredith settled into the deep cushions. “What happened?”

“One day, we were sitting down to dinner and I’d accidentally burned it. He threw the plate of food to the floor and yelled at me, calling me all sorts of names a man doesn’t have a right to call a lady. I told him to stop that, and he struck me right across the face.”

Meredith gasped. Mrs. Harris gave her a nod and then continued, her eyes staring straight into Meredith’s. “That night I lay awake in bed and I sorted my feelings. The shame, the embarrassment. But I felt something else too. Anger. No one had the right to make me feel like a lesser human being. I vowed then and there that if it ever happened again I’d leave.”

Meredith clasped her hands together in an effort to control the trembling. The similarities. “And what happened?” she whispered.

Mrs. Harris leaned forward and grabbed a handful of grapes. “Sure enough a week later that bastard was mad about the way I’d ironed his shirts and he approached me. I told him if he raised his hand to me again I’d make him regret it.”

Meredith didn’t move as Mrs. Harris popped a few grapes in her mouth, the loud crunching the only sound that could be heard in the apartment. “He didn’t listen to me and he hit me.”

“What did you do?”

“I picked up the frying pan and whacked him across the head. Knocked him out cold. Then I called the police. Then I called my parents and I walked to our neighbor’s house and told them what he’d done. I was not going to be ashamed. I was not going to bear the burden of that man’s shame. I filed for divorce and moved on with my life. I like taking care of people, of family. This family needed me from day one and I love the life I have here. Got my friends, too.”

Meredith blinked back tears and swallowed hard. “You’re an amazing lady, Mrs. H.”

“You are, too, my dear.”

Meredith shook her head.

“You are. And Gage thinks so, too. I can tell. I know that boy as if he were my son. And he’s a good man. He’s a man who’d die protecting those he loves. Hasn’t had an easy life, either, that boy, but I knew the moment he showed up here, skinny as a rail with a fierce scowl, that he had a heart of gold under all that bluster. He won everyone over, and soon he opened up. I don’t know how we bonded, maybe the Lord knew I always wanted a son, and maybe he knew that Gage desperately needed a momma. But that is my boy.”

Loud, fast footsteps propelled Meredith to compose herself, despite the fact that her heart was breaking.

Meredith turned to look at Gage. He was standing in the doorway, all hard, lean lines. Beautiful man. He was holding a cake in one hand and a six-pack in the other, looking as though he’d just robbed a bank. “Okay, I got the cake, just as I heard Cole clomping down the stairs. Also got us some beer. Did it start yet?”

Meredith looked back and forth between them. Gage settled himself down between them, hauled Meredith up against his side, and was about to rest his feet on the coffee table when a dish towel appeared out of nowhere.

“Feet on the ground,” Mrs. H said, handing him a giant piece of cake. She gave one to Meredith, too, and then settled back into the cushions with her own piece.

“So what are we waiting for to start?” Meredith asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“
Downton Abbey
,” Mrs. H said with excitement, turning the volume up on her television.

Meredith choked on her cake and looked over at Gage. He shrugged and stared straight ahead. “So let me get this straight. You watch
Downton
?”

“Oh yes, it’s Gage’s favorite show. Mine, too.”

Gage shoved a bowl of popcorn at Mrs. H. “Enough with the chatting. Look,
Downton
’s on.”

Meredith blinked, tried not to laugh out loud, and then snuggled into Gage’s side. He kissed the top of her head and quickly turned his attention to the television. She didn’t know what to make of this, but this entire afternoon and evening she’d been bombarded by these other sides to Gage. She wanted to know more about the young man who first came to Tall Pines, why he’d come here. Where was his family? And his ranch…she didn’t want to think about what she’d do without Gage. She was supposed to be getting strong, not becoming dependent on another human being again.

Gage’s large hand squeezed her thigh gently, and she knew, somewhere in her heart, that she was becoming attached to his touch, his smiles, his laughter, at the way he let her be her own person while still making her safe.

So where did that leave her when it was time for Gage to move on?

Chapter Eleven

Gage sat in his truck outside his mother’s place, his childhood home.

Nothing ever changed around here. The neighborhood, with its small houses and poorly kept yards littered with garbage, never failed to make his stomach turn. These monthly check-ins he did were beginning to wear him down. He knew he should end it; he wasn’t helping her anymore. There was no getting through to her, so why put himself through the torture of these visits? To make sure she was still alive, to ease his conscience.

He swung open the door and hopped out, crossing the narrow road. Of course, Les hadn’t bothered to mow the front lawn, that lazy SOB. Or take the trash out to the curb, he noticed as the stench of rotting food filled his nostrils as he approached the house.

The only good thing about visiting this place was that it gave him something else to focus on other than Meredith.

Gage walked up the drive. No one at the ranch knew where he came from, or that he came here every month. He hated talking about his mother. Mrs. H knew the most. And if he hated talking about his mother, there was no way in hell he’d talk about his father. He looked around and almost laughed at the idea of Meredith seeing this place.

He eyed the dirty, rusted pickup in the dirt drive and scowled. That loser Les was home. But then again where else would he be? It’s not like the mooch had ever worked more than a day in his pathetic life. His presence made these visits even more repulsive.

Gage banged his fist against the metal storm-door frame. He could hear Jerry Springer’s voice blaring from the TV about the results of a paternity test. Gage cursed. There was no way his mother would get up from the couch when the reveal was imminent. Gage knocked harder. After another minute with no response, he tried the door and it swung open easily. The rank stench of bad food and cigarette smoke greeted him, a far cry from the smell of fresh baking at Tall Pines.

His mother was sprawled out on the couch, a once-fuzzy peach housecoat that he remembered from his childhood covering up her thin frame. “Gagey, nice to see you,” she said, not taking her eyes off the television screen.

Les ambled out of the washroom, stained wifebeater shirt hanging limply from his skinny frame. God, he hated this place. “Well, if it isn’t golden boy.”

“Later, Les,” Gage said, walking across the small entryway and into the kitchen. Of course there were heaps of dishes in the sink, opened food containers on the counter, and garbage everywhere. Gage headed to the small cabinet above the sink.

“Mom, you taking your pills?” Gage turned from Les and began rummaging through the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.

“Not now, Gagey. Wait till commercial, then we’ll have a nice little visit.”

He went back to reading medication bottle labels. He knew them all because he paid for all of them. Les’s footsteps shuffling across the floor set his teeth on edge. He preferred to ignore Les as much as possible. His stepfather and he hadn’t ever seen eye to eye. The more he engaged in conversations with Les, the quicker he lost his temper. These two fed off each other. Their depression, their addictions. The only redeeming quality Les had was that he didn’t push Gage’s mother around. Other than that, he would’ve liked to toss Les out with the trash.

He frowned, his fingers clamping down around a bunch of empty bottles. “Didn’t you get these refilled?”

“Stop worrying about me, Gage.”

“He should worry. Abandoning his momma and then coming in once a month to check on you is the least he can do.”

He ground his teeth down hard. There wasn’t one visit where he didn’t get into it with Les. Les was leaning his thin frame against the kitchen counter.

“More than you do, Les. At least I pay the bills around here.”

“Yer momma raised you. It’s yer turn to take care of her.”

“Raised me.” Gage swore under his breath. He didn’t want to get into his childhood; bad enough having to revisit his childhood home. “Shit, Les, I wouldn’t exactly call leaving a note and a bag of chips beside a bottle of gin on the couch while Mom was passed out ‘raising me.’”

Les jabbed a thin finger in the air. “Well, she did the best she could.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, keeping his calm. He’d come to terms with his childhood years ago. No remaining scars other than a few cigarette burns on his shoulders, courtesy of Les.

“These prescriptions are on auto-refill. Why haven’t they been delivered?” He pulled out his phone, looking for the pharmacy’s number.

Les peered into the fridge looking for his morning beer, a sight Gage had imprinted in his mind. He fought the urge to lift his leg and give him a kick in his scrawny ass. “Well, you have all the answers. Smart-ass Gage knows everything. Why don’t you figure this out?”

He dialed the pharmacy’s number and was promptly put on hold. “I’m trying to.”

“Golden boy, trying to take over and boss us around.”

Gage stared at him, wishing someone would pick up the line at the drugstore so he could deal with this and end his monthly visit. “Shut up, Les. You should be helping out my mother if you love her as much as you claim to. So why don’t you back off. I’m paying for this.”

“You may like to think so, boy, but you ain’t the only one providing for your momma.”

Gage held the phone to his ear, elevator music slowly being drowned out by the possibility that Les was actually speaking about something important.

“Yer momma was a lady in high demand.”

“Shut the fuck up unless you have something important to say.”

“Ask her, hotshot.”

Gage ripped his gaze from Les’s god-awful smirk to his mother. “What’s he talking about?”

“Les, be quiet,” his mother yelled from the couch, turning up the volume.

Les took a long swig of beer and then wiped his mouth with his hand. Gage hit disconnect on his phone and gave Les his full attention.

“Yer rich daddy’s been paying the bills for years.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Gage stared into Les’s narrow, unshaven face searching for a sign the bastard was lying. That was impossible. The man who was his father hadn’t been a part of his life ever. The only time he’d met him was when he was fifteen and his father had shown up in a shiny black BMW. The neighbors gawked when he’d emerged from the car in a pristine dark suit, an air of wealth and privilege hanging on him as perfectly as the custom suit he wore. Gage had been tinkering with his beat-up truck, his main goal at fifteen to fix it by the time he got his driver’s license so he could get the hell away from here. He still remembered the feeling in his gut as he made eye contact with that man. On some level he’d known. He’d stood there, the stranger in the suit on the opposite side of the truck. The way he’d looked at Gage, the shock obvious on his clean-shaven face. His deep, cultured voice had asked him if this was Bess Mackenzie’s house. He’d followed the man into the house and the words that had been exchanged between the man and his mother changed Gage’s life.

Some nights, when he was lying in bed by himself, he’d allow himself to think back to that day, about the man’s offer to take Gage home with him. To help financially. And the ultimate had been when the man’s voice broke, looking at Gage, asking his mother why she hadn’t told him that their one-night stand resulted in a child. But Gage was a punk at fifteen, bitter, angry at the world, and he shot his father down. He wanted nothing to do with him. He didn’t want to believe that this rich guy hadn’t known about him. Even when his father paused on his way out, telling Gage that if he ever needed him, if he ever changed his mind, he’d be there for Gage, no questions asked, no demands. Gage arrogantly shrugged him off. He’d rather go on believing he hadn’t been wanted, that he was just the bastard kid of an alcoholic waitress.

Until the night he hit rock bottom, months of being on the street, and he sought his biological father out. Gage shook off the memory and stared at his mother; her prematurely wrinkled face crumpled as she watched him. This was his home, this was where he came from, and no blood from a rich father would ever change that.

His mother sat on the faded plaid couch, her face pale. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Gagey.”

Gage fought for control, bracing against the edge of the dirty countertop. “Tell me what? What the hell is Les talking about?”

His mother stood, swaying slightly. “Yes, your father’s been helping,” she whispered.

Rage exploded through him. “It’s true. He’s been paying the bills around here?”

Les piped up, ever the shit-disturber. “Yup. This house was paid off the day after yer daddy’s visit.”

Gage used every ounce of self-control he had not to bash Les’s smug face with his fist. He took a deep breath to try to gather himself. “I have been sending you money for rent and your medication since the day I moved out. I sent you money even before I had a place to live.”

“Well, you should.”

“Back the hell off, Les.”

His mother was clutching her bottle of gin to her chest, looking like the true addict she was, and he knew his visit was over. “Gage, what was I supposed to do? Your father wanted to send money.”

“You could have told me, that’s what. Maybe I could have had a fucking roof over my head or a meal. I sent you everything I had. I still send you—”

His mother was wringing her hands as she approached him. “Well, you got that cushy job at the ranch.”

“You owed us,” Les said.

“I didn’t work to support your sorry ass.”

“Watch your mouth, boy. I’m still the only father—”

“Les, man, you were never a father. You were and still are a good-for-nothing drunken mooch.”

Les tried to take a feeble, wobbly swing at him. “Ungrateful.”

Gage pinned him against the wall, about to tell him exactly what he thought of Les, when the sound of a familiar gasp filled the room. He lifted his forearm away from Les and turned around to see Meredith standing in the doorway. Blood pumped through his body in a pulsating, sickening motion. He couldn’t move or make a sound as he stared across the garbage-filled room at Meredith. Her mouth was slightly open, her flawless pink dress, her shiny hair, her absolute perfection a complete contrast to everything he ever was. Never in his life had he felt such unbridled embarrassment tear through him until he couldn’t see straight. He lowered Les to the ground and faced the woman he always knew was too good for him. It wasn’t the shock on her features that registered. It was the damn pity in her eyes that made him want to hurl.

…

Meredith tried not to let her shock show on her face. She clutched the doorframe with her hand, willing herself to look calm and not completely horrified. This hadn’t been what she was expecting. This tiny, dirty house was Gage’s family home. Gage stood there looking at her as though he wanted to throttle her, but for a second she saw a flash of embarrassment, and that made her ache through every part of her until she hurt for him. The embarrassment was quickly replaced by anger. She shouldn’t be here, she knew that, but she hadn’t counted on this. When she’d followed him today it had been impulsive. She had expected to find something entirely different…

She opened her mouth to say something, but her voice was stuck. Meredith’s gaze darted around to the occupants of the house. A woman, who she assumed was Gage’s mother, was staring at her through narrowed eyes, the same eyes as Gage’s, except hers were faded, a little glazed, probably a result of the bottle of gin on the chipped coffee table in front of her. Meredith attempted a small wave of greeting.

“What are you doing here?”

She turned to meet Gage’s hostile glare. Never in the year since she’d met him had he ever looked at her like that.

“Now isn’t she a pretty little thing. A little out of your league, boy.”

“Shut up,” Gage said to the thin older man.

“I…uh, I’m sorry,” she managed to say when Gage crossed the small room, kicking a cardboard pizza box out of the way. He stood in front of her and she resisted the urge to back up a step. Gage would never hurt her, she knew that, no matter how scary, badass he looked. A deep frown etched itself in between his brows and that perfect bone structure was rigid as he glared at her.

He braced his hands on either side of the doorway, blocking her view of the house. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She clasped her hands together, trying to sound calm. “I followed you,” she whispered.

“Get your ass outta here, boy. You don’t belong here anyway. Take your girlfriend outta here and don’t come back.”

“Gagey, maybe you and your little friend can come for drinks when I’m feeling better.” Meredith quickly blinked back tears at Gage’s mother’s slurred words.

“We’d love to spend a night with yer girlfriend.”

“Shut up, Les,” Gage said through clenched teeth, staring down at Meredith.

The veins in his neck looked ready to burst. Gage turned around. “I’ll call the pharmacy from home. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Gagey, don’t be mad. Next time call first and I’ll be respectable.”

“Just keep sending your checks and yer momma will be fine.”

“Screw you, Les,” Gage said, walking out of the house and grabbing Meredith’s hand. She ran to keep up with his long strides. He didn’t slow until he reached her parked car across the street.

Gage dragged his hands down his face with what looked like a Herculean attempt at reining in his formidable temper, and then he looked at her.

Meredith fumbled with her keys. “So, um, I guess I’ll just make my way back to the ranch.”

“No, I don’t think so. You’re not getting off that easy. What the hell were you thinking?”

She winced. If she had more of a backbone she’d have reached out to hug him, but that would be akin to hugging a bear, and self-preservation was one of her strongest instincts. “It really doesn’t matter. A little bit of a misunderstanding.”

“You’re coming back to my place. No disappearing act, avoiding conflict. None of it.”