Born to Be a Cowboy Page 23

  Mac’s face had lost all its color. Seeing it, his three sons gathered around to stand behind his chair, their hands at his back and shoulders. Mary Pat clasped his hand in hers, noting that it was cold as ice.

  He could barely speak. “Rachel and Robbie were…murdered?”

  Basil nodded.

  “And I should have died with them.”

  Zachariah looked at the three handsome men who stood like fierce protectors behind their adoptive father.

  He used his best courtroom voice. “Apparently it wasn’t your time, Mackenzie. As you can see, you still had work to do on this earth.”

  Basil set a clutch of documents on the mantel. “You’ll want to look these over at some other time, when your mind isn’t troubled. For now, that’s all the information I have. If there’s more, I’ll notify you.” Quietly he added, “I’ll let myself out.”

  Ben trailed the detective to the back door and shook his hand before returning to the parlor.

  Sensing Mac’s need to be alone to digest such shocking information, Otis and Roscoe said their good nights and made their way to the bunkhouse.

  Ben and Becca kissed Mac before leashing Archie and leading him from his warm spot in front of the fire.

  Finn and Jessie kissed Mac before leaving on the long drive back to Nola’s ranch, where Jessie was staying until the wedding.

  Sam and Penny kissed Mac before heading up the stairs.

  Zachariah shook his old friend’s hand before going to his room off the kitchen.

  Only Mary Pat remained, sitting silently beside Mac, staring into the flames.

  When at last he spoke, his voice was raspy, as though speaking had become an effort. “I never dreamed…” He tried again. “They had planned a surprise for me, and instead…” Moments later he whispered, “I should have been with them. Maybe I could have…” He shook his head, finding it impossible to put into words the depth of his shock and grief.

  Mary Pat put a hand over his. Over the years she had seen the guilt suffered by survivors of tragedies. She’d counseled the grief-stricken, the lonely, the lost. She knew all the right words. But for now, she chose to remain silent and just be here, hoping her presence would be enough to get this good man through this sudden, shocking revelation.

  As the fire burned low, and the embers sent sparks up the chimney, they sat side by side, contemplating the mysteries of life.

  Ever so slowly, as night faded and the first faint stirrings of dawn colored the horizon, a feeling of peace and acceptance began seeping into Mac’s poor, battered heart.

  He squeezed Mary Pat’s hand and got stiffly to his feet. Helping her up, he lifted her hands to his lips.

  “Thank you, my friend, for seeing me through this storm.”

  “Have the clouds lifted?”

  He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Maybe not all of them. But the thunder and lightning are behind me now.”

  She climbed the stairs beside him, until they reached the upper floor.

  She touched a hand to his arm. “You and I have lived long enough to know that sunshine always follows a storm. Maybe by midmorning we’ll see the clouds part.”

  He closed a hand over hers. “I’m counting on it.”

  He turned toward his room, then paused outside his door to wait until she stepped into the guest room down the hall.

  When her door closed he remained a moment longer, deep in thought, before heading off to bed.

  Epilogue

  Monroe Ranch—Two Months Later

  If springtime in Montana is a season of hope, summer is that lazy, hazy, crazy time to enjoy the many fruits of a rancher’s labors.

  The hills around the Monroe ranch were a riot of color, from deepest green to the brightest oranges and yellows to deepest blue and purple.

  Bawling calves, delivered in muddy fields, in grassy meadows, and sometimes on barren hillsides, were now grazing happily on hillsides.

  Heavy parkas and wool sweaters were forgotten as cowboys sought the cool waters of lakes and mountain streams in the midday sun.

  At the Monroe ranch, love was in the air.

  Penny, Becca, and Mary Pat, assisted by Zachariah, Otis, and Roscoe, were busy transforming the back porch and yard into a proper place for a wedding.

  The big log table under the tree had been covered by a white lace cloth, anchored by low bowls of pink and white roses. Penny was busy frosting the five-tier cake with mounds of whipped frosting. Each tier was a different flavor, to satisfy the tastes of so many family members. A layer of chocolate followed by a layer of carrot cake, a layer of lemon butter, a layer of strawberry, and finally a layer of white cake dotted with cherries. The figures atop the cake were a man in a fringed cowhide jacket, carrying an attaché case, and a woman in a sleek business suit, holding a calculator in her hand. The sight of it had everyone smiling.

  Sam stepped in from the porch, where he’d been helping to hang strings of twinkling lights.

  He paused to kiss his wife’s cheek. “You really managed to make them look like my brother and his bride, Penny.”

  She laughed in delight. “I think they may be my best ever.”

  Sam sniffed the air. “Do I smell barbeque?”

  She nodded. “Ribs and chicken. Both the bride and groom requested it for their wedding supper.”

  Sam gave a nod of approval. “I’m glad my brother has such good taste.”

  “In food or in women?” Becca asked.

  “Both. But don’t tell him I said that.” Sam looked up. “Speaking of the bride and groom…”

  Dust rose up as a ranch truck arrived with Finn at the wheel. Seated beside him was Jessie, with her aunt in the backseat.

  Finn parked the truck before circling around to assist the two women. Jessie was carrying a long zippered bag over her arm. Behind her, Nola carried a similar bag.

  They climbed the steps and walked through the mudroom to the kitchen, where the family was gathered.

  “Oh, my. Don’t you look handsome.” Mary Pat touched a hand to her heart at the sight of Finn, wearing a starched white shirt, string tie, denims, and cowboy boots polished to a high shine. Over it all was his ever-present buckskin jacket.

  Zachariah looked on approvingly. “That jacket has started looking better on you than it ever looked on me, Finnian.”

  “Thanks, Zachariah. I only hope it continues to bring me the same good luck in the courtroom.”

  “I have nary a doubt.”

  Mary Pat led Nola and Jessie up the stairs to the big bedroom where they would dress for the wedding.

  Inside she paused. “Do you two need any help?”

  Nola nodded. “I’ll be needing help with the zipper on this dress.” She chuckled. “I haven’t worn many dresses in my day. I’m much more comfortable in jeans and boots.”

  Mary Pat joined in the laughter. “I know what you mean. My lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to dresses. But,” she said to Jessie, “don’t you worry. I bought a dress for this occasion.”

  “I wouldn’t care if everybody wore boots and denim to the wedding, as long as all of you were here on this special day.”

  Nola kissed her cheek. “It is special, Jessie honey. I wouldn’t have missed this day for anything.” She paused. “And to think I almost did.”

  Jessie wrapped her arms around her aunt. “We won’t talk about that. Remember. It’s behind us now, and we can all look forward to a bright, happy future.”

  “Oh, honey.” Nola wiped a tear from her eye before turning away to unzip the bag holding her dress.

  The door opened and Becca and Penny stepped inside.

  Soon the sounds of feminine voices and laughter drifted down the stairs as the five women helped one another with hair and makeup.

  Downstairs, Otis and Roscoe hurried off to the bunkhouse to change.

  Zachariah slipped away to his room to do the same.

  Ben in his crisp uniform and Sam in his best denims and vest walked outside to fill a cooler with long
necks and a bottle of Champagne for the wedding toast.

  Finn was alone in the parlor when Mac walked down the stairs looking rugged and handsome in his best Western suit. Father and son both paused before breaking into smiles.

  “You ready for this day, son?”

  Finn nodded. “You bet. How about you, Dad?”

  “I guess I’ll never be ready to see the last of my boys start a new life. But I’m happy for you. And so proud of the man you’ve become.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” The two men enjoyed a bear hug before stepping apart.

  Finn said, “While Jessie and I are away, Zachariah offered to look over the documents of your mother’s will. As soon as I get back, I’ll start the process of regaining your rights to the south pasture.” He paused. “Do you have a copy of the will?”

  Mac nodded. “I do. I appreciate this, Finn.” He crossed the room and retrieved a ring of keys from his desk drawer. Holding up a smaller key he handed it over to Finn. “This will unlock a cabinet in my closet, where I stored a lot of family documents years ago. The folders are all labeled. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out the ones you need.”

  A short time later he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and turned as Finn walked toward him.

  Instead of documents, Finn was holding a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of pills.

  For a moment Mac merely stared at his son. Then, as the realization dawned, he gave a deep sigh.

  “The only time I’ve ever seen you drink whiskey is to celebrate something memorable. And then only as a toast. But I’ve never seen you drink cheap whiskey, Dad.”

  Mac shook his head. “I don’t.”

  “The date on this bottle of pills is exactly the same date that Ben and Sam and I broke into your house. I know it’s none of my business, Dad, but would you care to explain?”

  Mac paused for a long moment before saying softly, “That night you boys broke in, I was in a deep depression over the death of Rachel and Robbie. I’d gone someplace very dark in my mind, and couldn’t seem to find a way out. So I went to town to get a prescription for sleeping pills from the doctor, and then I’d stopped to buy that bottle of cheap liquor.”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed as the truth dawned. “You were going to end it?”

  “I…” Mac stopped, then silently nodded.

  “What stopped you?”

  Mac lifted his head and fixed Finn with a look. “You and your brothers. All that pent-up anger and rebellion. I understood it. And I realized that you needed somebody to help you get your lives back.” He clenched his hands at his sides. “As much as I wanted release from my pain, I figured your need was greater than mine. I thought I’d put my plans on hold for a while, and tend to the three of you.”

  “So while you were busy saving our lives…”

  Mac finished, “You three were saving mine.”

  “Oh, God, Dad.” Finn gathered his father into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

  Mac’s arms tightened around Finn, absorbing the quiet strength and the unconditional love he could feel.

  They remained that way for long, silent minutes.

  Finally, as they stepped apart, Finn nodded toward the stairs. “I’ll just put these back where I found them, if that’s all right with you.”

  Mac nodded. “I’ll dispose of them later. Right now, we’ve got a wedding to celebrate.”

  When Finn disappeared up the stairs, Mac turned away to stare into the flames of the fire.

  Hearing a sound, he turned to see Mary Pat standing in the shadows.

  For a moment all he could do was stare. Finally he found his voice. “You heard?”

  She walked closer. “I’m sorry, Mac. There was nowhere to go. I couldn’t interrupt you and Finn at such a time.”

  She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I knew you were troubled by the deaths of Rachel and Robbie. But I had no idea the depth of your pain.”

  He took her hand. “It’s not something I could bring myself to talk about. But I’m glad you know. I’ll be forever grateful for those three hell-raisers, who completely changed the course of my life.”

  He caught her other hand and drew her closer. “You’ve changed my life, too, Mary Pat. You’ve been here for me through the worst and the best.”

  “That’s what friends do.”

  “We are friends. You’re my dearest, my best friend. But I’ve been thinking I’d like us to be more.”

  It was her turn to fall silent, as though unable to take it all in. Finally she looked at him. “Are you talking…commitment? Marriage?”

  “I am. Does that make me a foolish old man?”

  “Mackenzie Monroe, you will never be foolish in my eyes.” She gave him a steady look. “Why now, Mac?”

  “Maybe because, though it’s summer, it’s the autumn of our lives. We’ve wasted so many years.”

  “They weren’t wasted. We had work to do.”

  “That we did. You, especially.” He nodded. “I know you so well. You’re probably getting that old familiar wanderlust, and planning your next trip into the wild.”

  “Would you mind?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. You have to live your life, just as I have to live mine. But I’d like to think— I fervently hope—that when you grow weary of the travels, you’ll always come home to me.”

  “Home to me.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Do you know how very special those words are? I’ve never had a home. Nor a love to come home to.”

  “Then let me be your first.” He gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

  “My first. My only,” she whispered against his mouth.

  As the doors opened upstairs, and footsteps sounded on the stairs, they stepped apart, wearing matching looks of happiness.

  “Come on, Finn.” Ben stood in the parlor and called up the stairs.

  Finn hurried down. “Is Reverend Grayson here already?”

  “Not yet. But Dad sent me. He wants us to join him and the others.”

  Finn didn’t need to ask what this was about. For as long as he could remember, whenever they were planning a celebration, it would begin up the hill at the graves of Mac’s family. Inside a wrought-iron fence lay the graves of his father and mother, and his wife and son, who had been taken from him far too soon.

  And now, thanks to the diligence of the state police, Mac’s sister, Ellen, was buried in the little plot of land as well.

  As he and Ben climbed the hill, Finn thought about what he’d learned today. He was certain none of the others knew Mac’s secret. He was determined that none of them would ever hear it from his lips. It was Mac’s story to share or keep to himself.

  When Ben and Finn stepped into the small enclosure, Sam began filling tumblers with good Irish whiskey.

  Mac lifted his glass. “To Rachel and Robbie, to my parents, and sister, Ellen, home at last, where she belongs, in this circle of love.”

  Solemnly they all drank.

  Zachariah lifted his glass. “To you, Mackenzie, for providing a loving home to all of us.”

  Otis and Roscoe nodded and smiled before drinking.

  Ben grinned at Sam. “To our little brother, Finn, for his brilliant choice of bride. Since our wives already love her, he’d have found himself in a whole lot of trouble if he hadn’t persuaded her to marry him.”

  Finn laughed. “We can thank Jessie’s aunt for that. I’m so glad she decided to meddle.”

  At the sound of an approaching vehicle, they turned to watch as the minister parked alongside a row of ranch trucks and stepped out of his car.

  Sam put an arm around Finn’s shoulders. “Showtime, little bro. Let’s go get you and Jessie married.”

  As the others trailed down the hill, Mac remained alone at the grave site. For long minutes he ran a hand over the smooth granite headstones of his wife and son, tracing their names with his fingers, before pausing alongside the marble urn containing the remains of his long-dead sister, Ellen.

  “I�
��m glad you’re finally all here together, where you belong.”

  As he turned away, he thought about all the events that had brought him to this day. He’d watched as the uncertainty of Ellen’s sudden departure from their lives had torn his parents apart. The pain of losing Rachel and Robbie had driven him to deep despair that had almost cost him his life.

  Three angry delinquents had filled his home with chaos, and so much love.

  And now, with the sweet love he and Mary Pat felt for one another, everything had changed yet again. The pain of loss had been replaced with a sense of quiet peace.

  In the house upstairs, Penny and Becca finished Jessie’s hair and makeup, and began helping her into her gown. At her insistence, it was sleek and simple. A long column of white silk that ended mid-calf. On her feet, white sandals. In her hair, a mother-of-pearl comb holding a sprig of baby’s breath.

  The effect was breathtaking.

  “Oh, Jessie.” Nola, seated beside Mary Pat, wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, Aunt Nola.” Jessie hurried across the room to hug her.

  “I have a right to cry. I love you like a daughter.”

  “And I love you like a mother. That’s why I bought you this.” Jessie handed her aunt a white satin box.

  Inside was a locket. Nola opened it to reveal a photo of Jessie and Nola on one side, and Jessie with her mother and father on the other. She turned it over to read the words engraved there. YOU DIDN’T CARRY ME BENEATH YOUR HEART, BUT I KNOW YOU CARRY ME ALWAYS IN IT.