Long Road Home. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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“I’m twenty-eight, and Dad was fifty when I was born. His hair was already turning white then, and now it’s a hot mess. Besides being a nail tech I also do hair, but he won’t let me give him a decent haircut. He’d rather cut it himself with my mother’s old sewing scissors.”
“At least he’s not vain.”
That made her laugh. “No, he certainly isn’t. I’ve tried telling him how handsome he’d look if I trimmed his hair, and he just shrugs and says he doesn’t care about that.”
“Speaking of your work, I really don’t see myself hanging around during a night of beauty.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t think Sarah’s going to stand for you staying at the Bunk and Grub, either. It’s a very nice B and B and it’s almost like being with family because of Pam’s connection, but still, Sarah’s going to want you here, I’ll bet.” From what Olivia knew of the woman, she was virtually sure of it. A long-lost half brother wanting to connect with kin would touch Sarah’s heartstrings.
“Pam Mulholland is part of the Chance family?”
“You didn’t know that?”
Wyatt shook his head. “There’s probably a lot I don’t know. And I want to.”
“She’s Nick Chance’s aunt, his late mother’s older sister. In fact, Pam will be at this thing tonight, assuming she made it over before the storm hit.”
“She probably did. Somebody else checked me in this afternoon and said Pam would be gone overnight.”
“Pam didn’t recognize your name when you made a reservation?”
“She didn’t act like she did. Jack and Sarah are the only people I met when I came here last August. Maybe they decided to keep my visit quiet.”
“Maybe.” Although intimate details of people’s lives were freely bandied about in Shoshone, Olivia figured the town had its share of secrets, too. Wyatt might be one of them. “I’m guessing you didn’t leave a phone number or an address with Jack.”
“No. To be honest, he was so abrupt that I wasn’t sure I’d come back. I understand why he might not welcome me with open arms, but like you said, we’re blood. I’d hate to miss out on … well, friendship, at the very least, and a deeper connection if such a thing is possible. Rafe doesn’t hold out much hope and doesn’t seem to care whether Jack accepts us or not. But I … I do.”
Olivia turned to him. “I like your courage and persistence, Wyatt Locke. I’m glad you decided to come back and give the brother deal another try, because it means we got to meet.”
He grinned at her. “Same here, Olivia. But no matter how much I like you, and I do, I’m still not up for a night of beauty with the girls.”
DESPITE THE DIFFICULTY he’d had driving through the storm, Wyatt was sorry when they reached the circular drive in front of the two-story log ranch house. He felt that he and Olivia had made a connection during that drive, and now that it was over, he wasn’t sure how to keep it.
He really did plan to head back to the Bunk and Grub the minute the storm passed. There would be no advantage in hanging around. Olivia would be busy doing her job and he just didn’t fit in with an evening of foot massages and nail polish. Maybe he’d drive into town and get a beer and a burger at the Spirits and Spurs, Shoshone’s local bar.
Several trucks and a couple of SUVs were parked to the left of the ranch house. “A lot of people are here,” he said. “Who did you say was coming?”
“Well, there’s Pam, as I mentioned, and Mary Lou, the ranch cook, and Sarah’s three daughters-in-law—Dominique, Morgan and Josie. They each have homes on the ranch, but it’s not really walking distance so I’m sure they drove in. Then Morgan’s sister Tyler will be there—she’s married to Josie’s brother Alex.”
“Everybody’s sort of connected, aren’t they?” It sounded nice to Wyatt. Really nice.
“It’s a close-knit group. Oh, and I’m pretty sure Emily will be there. She’s the daughter of the ranch’s foreman, Emmett Sterling, and she married Clay Whittaker this past spring. He runs the stud program at the ranch. I did everybody’s nails for that wedding. Great party.”
As Wyatt had suspected, this was exactly the kind of family he’d always longed for and never had—informal and good-hearted. But they might not let him in. He quickly shoved away that thought, which was way too depressing to contemplate.
The house itself looked as massive as he remembered. The barn, corrals and other outbuildings were located down the hill to the right, and were nearly obscured this afternoon by a heavy curtain of rain.
Over the winter months, Wyatt had pried some information out of his mother about the place. When she’d moved in as a bride, the house had a two-story center section plus a wing on the right, a wide front porch running the length of the house and a circular driveway. The two medium-sized spruce trees she’d mentioned being located in the middle of the circle now stood at least thirty feet tall.
After Jack was born the family had added the wing on the left and extended the porch. On each side porch a row of rockers, shiny with rain, moved gently in the wind. Rain had flattened the plants in the flower beds on either side of the wide front steps, and water gushed from downspouts to puddle in the gravel driveway.
Both wings were set at an angle like arms flung open in welcome, and lights glowed from the windows on this stormy afternoon, inviting travelers inside. Wyatt figured some travelers were more welcome than others. And his category was still in question.
Olivia looked over at him. “I don’t think it’s going to let up. We’ll have to make a run for it.”
“You’re right.” Wyatt wondered if he could get away with dropping her off and heading back down the road. Not likely. That would force her into breaking the news that he was here and he’d look like a damned coward for leaving. “Let me pull up closer to the steps. Then you can unload without having to walk on that sloppy gravel in your nice shoes, and I’ll move the truck once you have everything out.”
“Believe me, I’m regretting the shoe decision, but at the time I was going for stylish.”
“They are that.” He put the truck in Reverse, backed up a ways and cut the wheel. Then he pulled forward and edged right up next to the steps.
“But if I’d worn sensible boots, you wouldn’t have had to haul me over to your truck.” She picked up her purse and one of the two bags.
“I enjoyed it.”
She gave him a quick smile. “Me, too.”
That comment made him bolder. “Listen, I’m not sure how this visit will turn out for me, but can I give you a call before I leave town?”
“Sure.” She zipped open her purse, rummaged around in it and came up with a business card. “My cell’s on there.”
“Thanks.” He took the pink card, which advertised the beauty salon, To Dye For, but also gave Olivia’s name and number. “I’ve toyed with the idea of relocating here.”
“Really?”