kissed her on the cheek. “That’s an order.”
Three
A week later Gray climbed the back steps to the kitchen of the Skaggses’ main house. His body still ached, but at least he hadn’t been forced to stay in the hospital for more than a few hours.
“You must have a strong constitution, son.” One of the doctors told him as he signed the papers to send him home. “Most people would’ve been down for a week after what you went through.”
If that were true, he imagined he’d inherited the trait from his grandfather. Gray sure hoped he’d finally be able to talk to that cranky old Indian this morning, too. He needed answers, but Grandfather still didn’t have a phone.
While he’d lived with him for ten years, going to college and learning the ways of the elders, Gray hadn’t cared much about phones, either. Now that Grandfather lived alone, Gray thought maybe he should buy him a cell phone, even though neither of them wanted to jump into technology quite so forcefully. In general, the old ways were infinitely better.
But he wanted the old man to quickly be able to get in touch with him should anything happen. And Gray wanted to be able to reach him when he had a question only Grandfather could answer.
His grandfather, Stalking Moon Parker, had always lived near the progressive and relatively prosperous tribal family lands, located in southwestern Oklahoma. But the stoic old crank would have none of the modern conveniences and civilized companionship of other Comanches. He lived alone with the old ways, and far from the rest of nemene.
Gray imagined that by today his grandfather would’ve gotten the messages he’d had a neighbor hand-deliver. And Grandfather would’ve come to town this morning to answer a phone call placed to an old friend.
As he stepped into the kitchen of the Skaggses’ main house, Gray sighed quietly. Unfortunately, his own phone privileges had been somewhat restricted lately. He could only pray that his two stepbrothers, the current bane of his existence, would be out of the house.
No such luck.
“Hey, hey, hey, looky here,” the younger Skaggs brother, Milan, said as he turned from the open refrigerator door. “Take a gander at who just walked right through the back door…like he owned the place or something.”
Milan Skaggs was twenty-three, and to Gray’s mind he didn’t amount to much. Lean and gangly at about five foot eight, the younger Skaggs boy had to physically look up to his stepbrother—which didn’t do much in the way of making him any more pleasant.
At the moment Milan was grinning at him with one of his typically foolish looks. Gray tried to keep a steady and neutral expression on his face. But it wasn’t easy when Milan looked so dumb, gazing up at him from under that shock of straw-colored hair.
“Don’t waste your time with the Indian, Milan.” Harold, the elder Skaggs brother waltzed into the kitchen, waving a small white card around in the air. “We’ve got more important things to attend to right now.” Harold threw Gray a disgusted glance, then returned his attention to his own flesh and blood.
Gray took an involuntary step forward. But remembering where he was he fisted his hands in his pockets and froze in place, standing near the back door. Something about Harold just made him feel like a fight.
Which, come to think of it, was surprising, considering the eldest Skaggs brother’s demeanor seemed so wimpy. His face always carried that pasty, drawn scowl. His nondescript brown eyes never managed to look at anyone directly, and that paunch above his belt spoke volumes about the sad state of his athletic ability.
Whatever it was that bothered Gray about Harold, he didn’t want to cause any trouble with either of his stepbrothers. He’d been forced to come back here to their ranch last year after his mother died, in order to manage the mustang herd and make sure those rare Indian ponies remained pure and well. But as soon as he could afford to move them to a place of his own, he’d be gone.
Regardless of what his stepfather, Joe Skaggs, wanted…or needed.
“We’ve got to decide how to dress properly for this barbecue party at the Gentrys’ tonight, Milan.” Harold continued addressing his brother and ignoring Gray. “I don’t know if regular Sunday jeans is right ’cause, besides dancing and drinking, they’re supposedly showing off some new horse flesh.”
“Yeah, I know,” Milan replied. “Dad was talking the other day about that-there expensive Spanish mestenos stud the Gentrys had bought.” He scrunched up his mouth and looked at the ceiling for answers. “Can’t imagine why they’d be needing to compete with us, though. They’ve got all the money in the world, don’t they?”
Mestenos stud? Gray instantly became very interested in his stepbrothers’ conversation. Of course, the Indian ponies on the Skaggs Ranch belonged to him—not to any of the Skaggses. He’d inherited them legally under white-man’s laws.
He couldn’t imagine that the Gentry Ranch had decided to go into mustang breeding, there wasn’t enough money involved for them. Milan was right for a change—it just didn’t add up.
“There’s some kind of shindig at the Gentry Ranch tonight?” Gray asked. He’d sure like to get a look at the neighbors’ new acquisition.
Gray was not a party person. In fact, he couldn’t exactly claim he’d ever been to anything resembling a party—except maybe an inter-tribal powwow. But he doubted that a rich man’s Texas barbecue would be quite the same.
“Big shindig,” Milan loudly answered. “Really big. Daddy says the oldest brother…what’s his name, Cinco ain’t it? Anyway, he’s invited every eligible male in the county, looking for somebody to take his scraggly sister off his hands.”
Milan grinned and hitched up his jeans. “Figure I got ’bout the best shot at it as any cowpoke ’round here.”
Gray winced at the thought—and at the whiff of Milan’s rank breath he’d just gotten, but he tried to keep his features steady. Were they talking about Abby, the woman who’d rescued him and saved his life? He’d heard that she was the only daughter…the only woman on the Gentry ranch…except for the oldest brother’s new wife. But she was definitely not “scraggly” looking.
Gray thought Abby was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on. Well, all right, perhaps she was a bit shorter than average, and her muscular body might not appeal to some, but she had the face and eyes of an angel. And…just maybe…white men liked their women to wear lots of makeup and frilly clothes. But Gray sure didn’t. And he knew that Abby wouldn’t wear anything that foolish. His lips began to curl into a wide grin with the thought of the strong young woman who’d saved his life.
“Don’t even think about it,” Harold suddenly snarled at Gray. “You’re not going with us, brother Parker. Dad says the Gentry clan wouldn’t want any ol’ Injuns at their party. It’s bad enough you embarrassed us with that snake stunt the other day. You aren’t going to get a second chance to make us look stupid.”
Gray knew he could never make the Skaggses look stupid—they did a great job of that on their own. “I thought you said our neighbors had invited all bachelors?” he asked Milan.
Milan ripped the invitation from Harold’s hand and waved it under Gray’s nose. “This here
