Cowboy Come Home Read online

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  Dear Reader,

  When I first thought of doing a series about a family of brothers on a ranch in Wyoming, I had no idea how much those four men would come to mean to me. I fell in love with them! Jake, the protective oldest brother, Pete, a hardheaded, determined man, Brett, lighthearted and loving, and Chad, the baby, who wanted to prove himself but idolized Jake—they became my ideal men. Yes, they are all stubborn and demanding, but they love each other. And they each secretly wanted a woman to share their lives.

  Best of all, they love children, and macho though they are, they think nothing of changing diapers. My kind of heroes!

  Given the opportunity to revisit the Randall ranch, I couldn’t resist. So here’s the last of the Randalls, Griffin, a Chicago cowboy, alone and ignorant of the ways of a family like the Randalls. But blood is thicker than water, and Griff discovers he has more in common with these Wyoming Randalls than he’d thought.

  I hope you enjoy visiting the Randalls once again.

  Judy Christenberry

  COWBOY COME HOME

  JUDY CHRISTENBERRY

  TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

  AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

  STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

  PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

  To my niece,

  Heather Hughes, who loves reading and

  cowboys as much as me.

  Thanks for all the encouragement, Heather.

  Chapter One

  “Jake Randall, B.J. said to tell you you’re in big trouble!” Camille Henderson approached the back of the tall cowboy.

  She’d only been on the ranch a few weeks, but she’d fallen in love with all the Randalls. Their unique take on life made sharing a house with them a lot of fun. She waited for Jake to turn around, expecting a big grin on his face.

  When the man slowly turned to face her, she gasped in surprise. “You’re—you’re not Jake!”

  “No, I’m not.” He didn’t smile, but that was one of only a few differences between him and Jake Randall, head of the Randall clan.

  Both men were tall, broad shouldered, narrow hipped. The hair was the same color, dark, almost black, but this man’s was trimmed a little shorter, more stylishly cut. Their eyes were the same chocolate brown, only this man’s eyes didn’t smile.

  “Who are you?”

  He stared at her, giving no response, and a shiver rushed through her. She took a step backward.

  “Jake, did Camille tell you—?”

  Camille spun around, relieved to hear B.J. approaching. “It’s not Jake.”

  “I can see,” B. J. Randall agreed, her eyes curious. She stepped toward the man, her hand extended. “Hello, I’m B.J., Jake’s wife. I’m sorry we mistook you for my husband, but you’re remarkably similar.”

  Though he took B.J.’s hand, Camille read reluctance in his action. No one could resist B.J.; however, this man continued to keep his silence.

  “May we help you? Are you lost?” BJ. finally asked.

  Camille held her breath. Surely this man’s resemblance to Jake couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “I need to speak to whoever is head of the family.” His voice was husky, as if emotion flooded him, but he held himself stiffly erect, staring, no hint of a smile on his face.

  B.J. exchanged a look of concern with Camille, then faced the man again. “That would be my husband, Jake Randall. He’s due home any moment. I thought he’d already arrived in a new Lexus when you pulled up. That’s why we greeted you so strangely. If you’ll come in, we’ll—” She stopped her long-winded explanation at the sound of another approaching vehicle.

  Camille turned around to verify that it was Jake’s pickup coming home. She returned her gaze to the stranger’s face, anxious to see his reaction when he saw Jake. Their resemblance was eerie.

  Jake pulled his truck past them, close to the house, parked and got out. He made a beeline for B.J., all his attention focused on his wife.

  That was one of the nice things about the Randall men. They were one-woman men, dedicated to their wives. Camille liked that, especially after her experience.

  Jake slid his left arm around B.J., and looked at the other man in surprise. “Hello. I’m Jake Randall. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Camille held her breath as the stranger stared first at Jake, then at the extended hand. Surely he was going to shake Jake’s hand. It would be an insult—

  Finally, the man moved, taking Jake’s hand in his. But he said nothing.

  “Your name?” Jake asked, his voice changing from warm geniality to tension.

  “Griff—”

  “Aieoooooow!” A male howl of pain rose in the air, followed by staccato thumps and a fierce neigh from a disturbed horse.

  All four of them turned in the direction of the noise, coming from one of the barns.

  “Damn!” Jake muttered. As he began to run, he called over his shoulder, “Someone find Pete. That sounds like the new bronc he brought home yesterday!”

  “Camille,” B.J. pleaded as she followed Jake.

  Camille exchanged startled looks with the stranger. Pete had come in early today because he and Janie, his wife, had taken the twins in for their checkup, but she thought they’d come back an hour ago. She started running to the house.

  Halfway to the porch, she saw Toby, B.J.’s eight-year-old son, come out the back door. “Toby? Is Uncle Pete in the house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell him to come to the barn, quick!” she exclaimed, and reversed her direction. She wanted to see what was happening. She noted, as she ran, that the stranger was no longer in sight, but his car was still there.

  Charging into the barn, she discovered Jake and the stranger in a large box stall, with BJ. standing outside it. Jake was starting to lift an unconscious man from the hay while the stranger held the head of the horse.

  Camille stared as the man appeared to be talking to the animal, caressing its head and neck. Then she noted several boards almost pushed apart from the frame of the stall.

  B.J. moved to help Jake, but he stopped her. “Stay outside. I don’t want you in here in case Griff can’t keep the animal under control.”

  B.J. did as he said, but she kept anxious eyes on her husband and his burden.

  “Can I help?” Camille asked softly.

  “Get some blankets from the tack room,” B.J. said just as quietly.

  Camille slipped past B.J. and hurried to do as she asked. She’d already learned in the two weeks she’d been on the ranch not to startle the horses. She took extra care with this one. He’d almost kicked down the wall.

  Pete erupted into the quiet of the barn, Toby on his heels, just as Jake got the unconscious man past the gate of the stall. B.J. took the blankets from Camille and began making a pallet on the floor.

  The noise from the latest arrivals sent spasms of fear through the horse, and the stranger redoubled his efforts to calm him.

  “What’s going on?” Pete demanded, then immediately lowered his voice. “What’s he doing in there with that horse? The thing’s wild.”

  “Too bad you didn’t tell your new hand,” Jake muttered, taking a deep breath as he stood from putting the man on the pallet.

  “Barney? Is he hurt bad?” Pete asked, kneeling down beside the man.

  “He hasn’t come to,” B.J. said. “Is Anna home?” Anna, Brett Randall’s wife, was a nurse who delivered babies in the area.

  “She’s giving that birthing class at Doc’s office, remember?” Camille said. Her gaze kept darting to the dark stranger.

  “We’re going to need the ambulance,” B.J., the local veterinarian, determined.

  “Toby, go get my cell phone out of the truck,” Jake ordered, and the boy scooted out of the barn at once.

  Pete seemed concerned about his employee, Barney, but, like Camille, his gaze kept drifting back to the stranger, who remained with the horse.

  When Toby returned, Jake made the emergency call. B.J. remained beside the injured man, but Pete moved to the stall.

  “Maybe you should come out now, before he gets difficult again,” he suggested, but his words sounded like an order.

  The man patted the horse one last time and turned toward the gate. To everyone’s surprise, the animal docilely followed him.

  “Watch out!” Pete called hoarsely.

  The man ignored his warning, reached the gate, opened it, then closed it behind him. Then he patted the horse again.

  “Who are you?” Pete demanded, his brows furrowed.

  The man gave him a steady regard, but he didn’t answer.

  “Name’s Griff,” Jake said. “Right?”

  The man nodded.

  Pete continued to stare. “Well, you shouldn’t—Hell, Jake, the man looks just like you!” Pete exclaimed.

  A groan from the man on the floor caught everyone’s attention. Pete
squatted down beside him. “Easy, Barney. We’ve got help on the way.”

  “Sorry, Pete,” the older man muttered. “Wanted to show you I could—” He stopped, grimacing as he drew breath.

  “What was your role in this fiasco?” Pete asked the stranger. Camille held her breath, anxious for an explanation of the man’s arrival.

  But it was Jake who answered. “He was introducing himself to me when we heard Barney howl and your new acquisition protesting whatever was going on.”

  “I told Barney we were going to give Rambo here his shots this afternoon, but we were waiting for BJ. I guess he decided to go ahead by himself.” Pete frowned down at the man, who had his eyes closed.

  In the distance, Camille heard a siren. “I think the ambulance is getting close.”

  “Toby, you want to go outside and show them where they’re needed?” Jake suggested.

  “Aw, Daddy, I want to stay here and—”

  Jake shot his stepson a sternook, and the little boy broke off his protest. With dragging boots, he shuffled out of the barn to do his father’s bidding.

  Camille smiled. Jake and Toby were a pair. It was hard to believe he wasn’t Toby’s biological father. BJ. had been widowed when Toby was a baby. Jake and Toby shared the same coloring, and now, after B.J. and Toby moved here a couple of years ago, Toby patterned his behavior after his new dad.

  Camille’s gaze came back to the stranger, who was carefully studying all of them, but most especially the two Randall men. He had the same dark hair and brown eyes as the Randalls. But he couldn’t have intentionally developed their expressions, their mannerisms, because he’d never seen them before.

  So why was he just like them?

  The ambulance, from Rawhide, had arrived and Toby led the two paramedics into the barn. Everyone stood back while they examined the man and rolled out a stretcher.

  “Looks like busted ribs and a mild concussion,” one of the medics said to B.J. “We’d better get him into town for Doc to look at him.” They laid Barney on the stretcher and rolled him out to the ambulance, with everyone trailing.

  Once they closed the back door of the ambulance, Pete said to the driver, “Tell Doc to fix him up. I’ll be in after dinner to check on him, unless it’s more serious than you think.”

  “Naw, Pete, he’ll be all right. I’ll pass the message on to Doc.”

  Silence fell over the group as they watched the ambulance drive away. Then Jake turned to the new arrival. “Griff, I owe you thanks. I might be in the same shape as Barney if you hadn’t grabbed that mangy horse.”

  “No problem.”

  “How did you settle him down?” Pete asked.

  The man shrugged his shoulders. “I just talked to him.”

  Pete studied the man. Camille wondered if Pete realized how expensively dressed the man was. In Wyoming, everyone dressed in jeans and a shirt. The man was wearing jeans, but with a designer label. And his starched shirt didn’t look as if it came cheap, either. She knew the Rolex on his wrist cost a bundle.

  “You lookin’ for work?” Pete asked finally.

  “No.”

  As if he hadn’t heard the abrupt answer, Pete continued, “’Cause I could use a good hand. I run rodeo stock. Sometimes they’re hard to deal with.”

  “Sorry.”

  Not a talkative man, Camille decided with a grin.

  “Whether you want a job or not,” Jake said, “you earned a good meal. Come on in. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “No. I don’t want to intrude. I need to have a word with you, that’s all,” the man said, his gaze meeting Jake’s.

  “With me?”

  “Yeah, you’re head of the family, aren’t you?” He shifted his gaze from Jake to B.J. and back again. “That’s what your wife said.”

  Jake’s lips twitched as he looked first at BJ. and then Pete. “Hell, yes, I’m the head of the family. But I don’t think I can talk until after I feed myself. Come on, Griff. We won’t poison you.”

  Taking BJ.’s hand, he led the way into the house, expecting everyone to follow. Everyone did, except the stranger. Camille watched out of the corn of her eye as the man clearly stood debating the invitation.

  She unconsciously gave a sigh of relief as he finally began walking after them. Startled, she questioned her interest in the man’s capitulation. After all, it meant nothing to her. She wasn’t part of the Randall clan. Well, except by connection.

  Her father had briefly been married to Megan’s mother. They’d divorced, but she and Megan had remained friends. Since Megan had married Chad, that made Camille an ex-step-sister to one of the Randall wives.

  All of which had nothing to do with the intense interest she felt in the man behind her. When his arm came around her to hold the back door open, her breath caught in her throat. He was as big as the other Randalls—but he wasn’t one, of course, or they would’ve recognized him.

  Besides, they had no other family members—

  Suddenly, she gasped and whirled around to stare at the man behind her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

  “Nothing!” she snapped, and faced forward again, passing through the mudroom to the kitchen, hoping the heat in her cheeks would quickly dissipate. But the thought that had popped into her head left her mind spinning.

  She’d read about such events in books. Was she going to see it played out before her? And would it hurt Jake and the others? Because it suddenly occurred to her that this man could be an illegitimate brother.

  Which would mean their father, Gus Randall, had betrayed their mother.

  Oh, dear.

  “What’s going on out there?” Red, their cowboy housekeeper, called as they all entered the kitchen. “We heard the ambulance.”

  “Barney tried to work with the new bronc I brought in. He got pounded,” Pete explained.

  “He gonna be all right?” Red asked calmly. He’d seen many a disaster in his long years on the ranch.

  “Yeah. Concussion and ribs,” Pete added.

  “Red, we need to set an extra plate for dinner,” Jake said, changing the subject. “Griff, here, helped me out, and I invited him to eat with us.”

  “Please, if it’s any trouble—” the man began.

  “No trouble at all,” Red said. Then he looked at Jake. “Did you warn him?”

  Jake shook his head, and everyone grinned. Camille saw the puzzled look on the man’s handsome face. She’d had the same reaction. Since she was closest to him, she said softly, “It’s rather a large family. With a lot of babies.”

  BJ. sighed. “I’m afraid Camille is right. But we feed the babies first and put them in the playpens,” she said, gesturing to the three playpens that lined the far wall.

  “Not me!” Toby protested. “I’m too old for those things,” he assured the man, stretching to look taller.

  “And you’re big enough to lend a hand, pardner,” Red added. “Start hauling these platters to the table.”

  “I’ll help, too, Red,” Camille said as she moved to the stove. Unfortunately, she didn’t allow enough space as she cut through the men and bumped into the newcomer’s rock-hard chest. His large, warm hands caught her shoulders as she bounced back from him. “Sorry,” she muttered, trying to hide her reaction to his touch. The shivers coursing through her body didn’t make sense.

  “No problem,” he returned.

  “Where’s Mildred?” Jake asked, naming Red’s wife, his assistant and B.J.’s aunt all rolled into one lady.

  “She’s up helping Janie with all the little ones. With Anna teaching that class and B.J. working and Megan gone to town, she needed help.”

  “I’ll go hurry them up,” B.J. said as she headed for the stairs.

  “I’ll show Griff where he can wash up,” Jake said.

  As the man followed Jake, Red stopped him. “Hell, you look just like the others. Who are you, boy?”

  The man seemed startled by Red’s frankness. Pete rescued him. “He’s a hell of a horseman, and I’m trying to hire him.”

  “Don’t mind Red,” Jake added. “He’s not known for his subtlety.”

  Red snorted as the three men left the room. “No need to circle the mountain for days before climbing it. You see the resemblance?” he asked Camille.

  “Yes, but Red, what if he’s an illegitimate son? What if their daddy—?”