Page 32 of Silent Deception
“But you’re a mess. Is this what you do all the time?” After arriving late Wednesday, Garrett had showered and headed into town. Apparently, he’d stayed out most of the night and slept most of Thursday, then took off again last night.
“S’pose so.” Garrett eased himself into one of the leather upholstered chairs in the office, propped a booted foot on the other one, and slouched until he was nearly prone. “Unless I’m chasin’ the rodeos. Got no place to go this weekend.”
A strip of Ace bandaging showed beneath the cuff of his white Western shirt. Curious, Ryan moved closer and brushed the hair back from Garrett’s forehead. Sure enough, a deep yellow-green bruise covered the left side. “You get this in a bar fight or from that last bull?”
Garrett batted his hand away. “Bull,” he growled.
“Eight seconds?”
“Made it to seven. He was a real good draw, and I was scoring high...then he sucked into a reverse spin and came right out from under me. Left me in the dirt.”
So he’d been out of the money, which probably accounted for his return to the ranch. Trevor had said Garrett traveled with rodeo buddies and avoided coming home as long as any of them were earning enough to keep gas in the truck and the next entry fees paid.
“What about your arm?”
“It’s nothin’.”
“Fracture? Sprain? Or do you just wear that Ace for decoration?”
Garrett glanced at Ryan, then looked away. “Banged up a little, is all.”
“Were you seen by a doctor? Did you have X-rays?”
“No time. Danny and Trace had to make it to Albuquerque by tonight. So we came back here, they got Danny’s truck and took off.”
The sullen tilt of his mouth was so reminiscent of him as a child that Ryan had to curb a laugh. “Left you behind, did they?”
“Don’t matter.”
Ryan had already come across three substantial checks made out to Garrett over the past four months. “You thought you’d stop by, pick up some money and take off again. Am I right?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Let me get this straight. You and Trevor stand in line to inherit this place. Trevor’s working his butt off here, while you breeze through when you need money. Sounds fair.”
“It’s none of your business.” He propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and gingerly touched his fingertips to his temple. “You...have no idea what’s fair. You weren’t here.”
Ryan laughed out loud.Fairwould have been a father who’d been close, who was loving and supportive. A father who wouldn’t have stalled every dream and threatened to disown him if he didn’t buckle.
Fairwould’ve been a father who might have made a threat in the heat of anger, but then apologized and didn’t follow through.
Ryan knew all about the lack of fairness in Clint Gallagher’s cold heart, but he just smiled grimly. “Maybe you wheedled money out of the past managers here at the ranch, but while I’m here that won’t happen.”
Garrett shot to his feet—the dramatic effect spoiled when he stumbled over his own legs in the process and then swayed until he caught his balance. “You can’t do that.”
“Try me.” Ryan waved a hand toward the training pens outside. “Get sober, get that arm checked out. Then you can start riding colts and helping with chores around here. Earn your money, and you’ll get your check in a month. You’re twenty-six, Garrett. It’s time to grow up.”
“Not your decision.” His voice filled with loathing, Garrett shouldered Ryan belligerently as he passed on his way to the door. “Get lost.”
Pain sliced through Ryan’s shoulder at the rough contact, followed by a roll of nausea in his stomach. But worse than that was his guilt over the two young brothers he’d left behind when he went into the service.
“I once lived here too,” he said softly, watching Garrett stalk toward the house. “And I know how bad it was. I’m just sorry you two were on your own.”
* * * *
CODY FIDGETED IN HISseat as Mom turned off the highway. Huge stone pillars rose on either side of the lane, supporting a heavy log suspended high overhead with The Four Aces carved on it in fancy letters. There were big flowering bushes flanking the entrance, too, and the road ahead was lined with trees and a white pipe fence that seemed to go on forever.
Before, they’d entered the ranch through a back pasture gate and had left after dark. Now, in the bright Saturday-morning sunlight, it all looked so grand, so different from their own place, that he suddenly felt very small and a lot more nervous. “What if it’s a mistake? Maybe this wasn’t really the day.”
