neglected his uncle for way too long.
The screen door swung open, and a redhead in her thirties walked out onto the extensive front porch without so much as a glance at Blake. “Good morning,” she said to Shannon. “Is it okay if I leave now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I was late.”
“No problem.” The redhead, who must be the night nurse, blinked her eyes a couple of times and yawned. “I’m going to head home and get some sleep.”
“I’ll see you this evening,” Shannon said.
The redhead had no more than climbed into a small Chevy pickup and started the engine, when Blake’s uncle strode into the yard as big as life.
At nearly eighty, Sam Darnell had a thick head of white hair under his Stetson, a warm glimmer in his blue eyes and a smile that wouldn’t quit. But he wasn’t smiling now.
He folded his arms across his broad chest and cast an accusatory eye on Blake. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. My new attorney bet me that you’d be here within twenty-four hours of receiving your copy of that document, but I thought he was wrong.”
Blake shrugged a single shoulder. He’d taken a red-eye flight out of LA to Houston, so he’d arrived at dawn. Even after the time spent on renting a car and driving to the ranch, he’d still gotten here with hours to spare.
Sam adjusted the brim of his hat. “Looks like I owe my new lawyer twenty bucks, on top of the payment for the work he did.”
Blake hadn’t expected his uncle to be happy to see him, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to be so damn angry. Still, if truth be told, Blake really couldn’t blame him. “I owe you an apology, Sam, but just to set the record straight, I don’t care about that change in trusteeship. Now that you’re as healthy and strong as ever, it makes sense that you’d want to take control again.”
Sam’s only response was a humph.
“We need to talk.” Blake glanced at Nurse Shannon before returning his gaze to Sam. He was tempted to suggest they speak in private, but he’d let his uncle make that call.
Fortunately, neither of them had to say anything because the attractive nurse took the hint. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”
Sam, who actually did resemble the robust rancher he’d once been and not the frail old man who’d nearly died last spring, lifted the flat of his hand like a traffic cop. “Hold up, Shannon. Will you check on one of my men before you go inside?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
Sam blew out a sigh. “Nate Gallagher was helping me dig out the mud from around that old pump so we could repair it, and he had a run-in with a broken beer bottle.”
The nurse grimaced, apparently concerned about injury. Then she smiled, transforming her mood completely and putting a glimmer in those pretty eyes. “I hope it wasn’t his beer bottle. I heard that a few of the new cowboys you hired can get a little rowdy, especially on their days and nights off.”
Sam’s grin softened his expression and shaved ten years off his face. “You must have been talking to Rex and Pete. Those old coots usually have something to critique about my new hands.”
“Yes, that’s where I heard it,” Shannon said. “But since two of your new hires ended up in jail last Saturday night and you had to bail them out, I drew my own conclusion.”
At that, Sam laughed, again reminding Blake of the man he’d always loved and respected, the man who’d once thought Blake could walk on water—or leap tall LA buildings in a single bound.
“Nate doesn’t drink anything stronger than soda pop,” Sam said. “Besides, it was a dirty old bottle that had been there for a while, so the cut could easily become infected. I wanted to take him to Urgent Care to get it cleaned out properly, but he didn’t want any part of that.”
“Where is he?” Shannon asked.
Sam nodded toward the bright red barn, which appeared to have been recently painted. “When Nate spotted you in the yard and realized I was going to ask you to check him out, he swung around to the back entrance. He’s probably washing off the blood and planning to slap a bandage over it. But that cut was pretty deep.”
“Then I’ll hurry and take a look at it before he covers it up and heads back to work.” Shannon lifted the mug she’d been holding, took a sip and then set it on top of an old tree stump near the porch. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Before Blake could resume talking to his uncle, the screen door swung open and the older brunette returned.
“Can I get you some coffee?” she asked Sam. “You didn’t have your second cup this morning.”
“Not yet.” Sam nodded toward Blake. “I need to speak to Fancy Pants first. Then I’ll come into the kitchen and share a cup with you.” He winked at the woman. “And if you have any of that carrot cake left over from last night, I’ll have a piece of that to go with it.”
She laughed. “You got it.” Then she went into the house, the screen door shutting behind her.
When the two men were finally alone, Blake said, “Like I said, I owe you an apology.”
“Just one?” Sam let out a little snort. “And just what would that be for?”
“Not visiting you more often.”
Sam straightened his shoulders, which tugged on his red flannel shirt and made them appear to be just as strong and broad as ever. “Once you went off to law school, you put me and Nellie on the back burner.”
Why’d Sam have to mention Nellie? If Blake had felt guilty before, the reminder of his aunt and the fact that he’d been too busy to come to Texas and spend either Thanksgiving or Christmas with the couple during the last five years she’d been alive made it all the worse. And no matter what he said, what excuses he’d given himself, there was no making up for that.
Sam glanced at Blake’s suitcase. “You planning to stay here?”
“I thought it might take some time for me to prove to you just how sorry I am. So, yes, I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay. Otherwise, I’ll find a place in town.”
That seemed to touch the heart of the rugged rancher, at least a little. And for that, Blake was grateful. His aunt and uncle had been good to him while he’d been growing up and had felt neglected by his unfailing focus on his career.
He could argue that he’d offered to move them to California, but neither of them would have been happy leaving Texas. He knew that now, even if the truth of it had escaped him before.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sam pointed at Blake’s luggage. “Get your stuff and come with me. I don’t have all day.”
Blake grabbed the suitcase and followed his uncle past the barn and down a short path to a small outbuilding that also appeared to be freshly painted. The exterior walls were clean and white, and the bright red door was the same color as the barn.
“This is my place,” Sam said, as
