At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(74)

“No.”

Earl Ray nodded. “Your father’s lawyer and I had a nice visit. He thinks you’ve been avoiding him.”

“I have.”

“He said he’s known you since you were a boy and that the happiest time of your life was living on the ranch before your mother died. He said you were a natural with the horses.”

Culhane was surprised that the lawyer knew that.

“Now that you have your inheritance...” Earl Ray slowed the pickup.

Ahead Culhane saw a sign that arched over the entrance into what was called The Crooked Tree.

Earl Ray drove under the sign and down a narrow paved road in the direction of the mountains. A large red barn stood on the horizon near what appeared to be a stable. He caught his breath as the main house came into view.

“What is this place?”

“A horse ranch that has just come on the market. Apparently in your father’s will, he’d asked his lawyer to find something extraordinary for you. Are you aware that your father has been involved in your life from the sidelines? He instructed his lawyer to find you a new home. Your father apparently in his later years regretted selling the ranch where you grew up. He regretted a lot of things before he died, I’m told, but like a lot of us, he hadn’t known how to articulate those regrets to the one he loved.” Culhane started to argue the point, but Earl Ray stopped him. “Before you see the property, I was told to give you this.”

The man reached into his pocket and brought out a business envelope. “I’ll take a walk and let you read it. Find me if you want to when you’re done.” With that he stepped out of the vehicle, leaving Culhane holding an envelope with his name written in his father’s neat, no-nonsense script.

ALEXIS PLACED A hand over her stomach. It felt strange being here in her parents’ home. So much had changed in such a short time. Maybe it was almost dying. Or maybe it was simply being pregnant.

“I don’t understand your attitude,” Imogene said as she placed the tea set on the coffee table between them. Her parents had brought her to her childhood home, insisting she needed their loving care.

They’d taken the news about the baby better than she’d expected. They’d been delighted. They’d just assumed, though, that there would be a wedding.

“Of course Culhane wants to marry you,” her mother said. “He loves you.”

Alexis shook her head as she accepted a cup of tea. “This is not the way I want things.”

Her mother raised a brow. “Well, it appears this is the way things are. Are you telling me he doesn’t want to marry you?”

“I haven’t told him about the baby.” Before her mother could ask why not, she continued. “Because that’s the problem. Culhane will do the right thing. He proved that with his first wife. I don’t want history repeating itself. I want him to want to marry me just for me.”

Imogene rubbed her temples. “How can he, when there is no longer just you? Alexis, he deserves to know. You can’t keep something like this from him.”

“That’s just it. Once I tell him, how will I ever know his true feelings?” She didn’t tell her mother that she suspected Culhane already knew she was pregnant. Or at least had his suspicions. He knew her body too well.

“Well, you won’t know unless you give him a chance to show you,” her father said as he walked into the room. “He deserves that.”

Alexis ached to see Culhane. There was so much unsaid between them. They’d both risked their lives for each other. Did she really doubt his love? “I know he loves me, and I love him. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Her mother’s eyebrows shot up. “I highly disagree. Look at your father and me.”

Alexis waved that away. “The two of you were made for each other.”

“Not hardly,” Imogene said with a laugh.

Her father came over and put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Your mother wanted nothing to do with me when we met. I asked her to marry me three times before she said yes, and even then I could tell she had her doubts.”

Her mother laughed again, nodding at the truth. “I still do,” she said jokingly.

“So Culhane’s gun-shy,” her father said as he took a seat on the couch beside her. “I like him, and I’m a great judge of character.” He chuckled. “Sweetheart, I think you can trust this man. But you have to give him a chance. He deserves that, and so do you and your baby.”

“In this case, your father is right,” her mother said and smiled at her husband. “It happens so seldom, him being right. But I agree with him.”

CULHANE STARED AT the envelope feeling as if he’d been ambushed and resenting it. He hadn’t wanted to deal with any of this, even though he’d known he couldn’t keep avoiding it.

For a moment, he wanted to shred the envelope and whatever was inside. There was nothing his father could say. No excuse the man could make. No man should ever treat his son the way his father had him.

He fisted his hand for a moment, the letter crinkling in his palm as he fought his anger, his sense of betrayal, his hurt. Wasn’t it bad enough to lose his mother? Why take away his home and the ranch that he loved before taking away his father as well?

Opening his fist, he looked down at the crumpled envelope and slowly tore it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper. He was expecting a typewritten letter like the few he’d received at boarding school. Short and businesslike, with his father’s signature at the end.