I kissed her forehead. “I know. But I can’t miss this meeting. Now that my father is gone—”
“I know, I know. The ranch is your responsibility. I’ve heard it a zillion times, Brad.”
“Then you understand.”
“I do. But for God’s sake, I just had your baby. Little Joe and I need you too.”
“I’m doing all of this for you and little Joe. I thought you understood that.”
I sighed. “I do. It’s just… I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he said.
“Your kid isn’t even going to know you.”
He chuckled. “My kid is five days old.”
“So? He needs to be held. Cuddled. Fed.”
“I’m afraid the feeding is all you, sweetheart. I don’t have the equipment.”
“It’s a lot of work.”
“Get a nanny, then.”
He caught me. The baby was a lot of work, but I had ample help with Mazie living here. Plus my mom would be here for a few more weeks, and Belinda lent a hand sometimes too.
“Brad, I don’t want a nanny. I want you to be here. To be a part of our lives.”
“I will always be a part of your life and Joe’s. You know that. The two of you are everything to me.”
I nodded. I believed him. Sort of. Now that George was gone, the ranch seemed to be everything to him.
“I’m building a legacy for us,” he continued. “For little Joe. One day he’ll have everything.”
“He has everything. He needs his father.”
“He will always have me, and so will you.” He kissed my lips. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
Then he was out the door.
Again.
I did miss him. I missed his arms around me, his lips on mine. The rest could wait. It had to wait six weeks anyway, until I healed from the birth. I was in so much pain down there, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to make another baby. But my mother and Mazie had assured me it would heal.
Of course, both of them had only given birth to one baby.
Mazie was looking forward to a houseful of kids. She’d done so much for me, I couldn’t let her down. And I adored baby Joe. He was worth all the pain and then some.
My son would never know his grandfather, and I both mourned and was happy about that. George Steel had been kind to me, but I couldn’t forget what he’d done to Mazie. She and I didn’t talk about that, though. All I knew had come from Brad.
“Hi, sweetie.” My mother entered the family room. “When do your guests arrive?”
I looked at my watch. “A half hour. Brad had to leave.”
“Oh?”
“Another dinner meeting. I swear, he’s out more than he’s at home since George died.”
“He has a lot of responsibilities.”
“He has responsibilities here too.”
“He knows that. Would you like me to ask your father to speak with him?”
I shook my head. “That would only make things worse. He’ll know I got Dad to talk to him.”
She smiled. She’d smiled more since the baby had been born than she had since her overdose eight months prior. This baby was good for my mother.
This baby was good for all of us. Even for Brad, though he didn’t seem to realize it yet.
He loved me and little Joe. I had no doubt of that.
He also loved this ranch, though.
I sighed.
Mazie entered then. “Did I hear Brad leave?”
“Yeah. Another meeting.”
“Oh, dear.” She smiled at me. “That’s how this business is sometimes. You get used to it.”
“I don’t want to get used to it. I want him in our lives.”
“I know my son. He’ll be in your lives. He loves you so much, Daphne.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“Bear with him. Running this place is a lot of work, and none of us expected George to die so suddenly.”
“But he has people to run this place.”
“True. But some things a man wants to do himself. That’s what George always said.”
“Was George able to teach Brad everything? Before he passed on?”
“Honey, George has been grooming Brad to run this place since he was born. Brad is more than ready.”
“But he’s so young.”
“Young, yes, but smart and determined. You and little Joe have given him even more reason to work his tail off.”
“I don’t want to be the reason why he’s never here.”
“You’re not. You’re the reason he’s determined. You’ll get used to it, and he’ll see that you and little Joe have everything you need.”
I nodded. Again, I had no doubt.
The problem was, what Joe and I needed was him.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Brad
I knocked on Larry’s door in Grand Junction. He’d just finished his last year of college and was moving to Arizona for law school.
No answer.
This time I pounded. My father’s—my—forty-five was burning a hole through the holster. Or so it seemed. The piece seemed to radiate heat.
Yeah, it was my imagination, but still…
Finally the door cracked open.
“Open up, Larry,” I said.