Then why the heck had he stayed away so long?
“Hey, brother.” The sound of his older brother’s voice reminded him of the reason why. Logan Morgan stepped through the door leading to the kitchen. Instead of the hug Molly had given him, Logan held out his hand. “Been a while.”
Cameron grasped his brother’s hand and shook, his grip strong. A measure of a man’s worth, his father would say. “Molly was just reminding me how long.” Where had the easy camaraderie they’d shared in their youth gone? For over a decade, Logan had been cold and distant to him. Ever since he’d started seeing Jennie Ward. He might as well have committed treason or murder by the way Logan and his father treated him.
If not for his mother and Molly, Cameron wouldn’t have returned to the Bar M. Though he loved the land and enjoyed working with his hands, he’d been a stranger in his own home, ostracized for his association with the Ward girl, as they loved to call her. Even after he’d left to join the army and Jennie had refused to leave with him, his father and brother hadn’t forgiven him or welcomed him back into the fold. Old wounds only seemed to fester and grow deeper.
“What brings you home?” Logan dropped his hand and hooked a thumb in his belt loop.
“Do I have to have a reason other than to see my family?” Cameron asked.
“Usually. Molly’s graduation and Mom’s surgery were the only times you’ve been home over the past five years. We’re all healthy here and Molly doesn’t graduate college for another year or more.” Logan’s brows rose over deep brown eyes. Where Molly favored their mother, Logan was a mirror image of their father in looks and attitude.
Cameron fell in the middle. Black hair like his father, green eyes like his mother and somewhere in the center between the rigid views of Tom Morgan and the full-time mediator who was Emma Morgan. He was saved from an answer by a whirlwind of denim and chambray.
“Cam, honey! I can’t believe it’s you.” Emma Morgan strode into the room, her Dingo-booted feet tapping against the hardwood floors. The dust in her hair made it hard to determine how much was dust and how much of her auburn curls had turned gray. Without hesitation, she pulled him into her arms and hugged him close. “God, I missed you.” She held on for longer than usual until Logan cleared his throat, ending the touching reunion.
Cameron could have gone on a lot longer hugging his mother. Until she’d come through the door, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her smile and her down-to-earth ways. What you saw was what you got with Emma Morgan. She didn’t have a secretive, mean or tricky bone in her body. Molly was just like her and he loved them both all the more. “Hi, Mom. I missed you, too.”
When she pulled away, a tear made a trail down the dust on her cheeks. Reaching up she brushed it away. “Now see there, you’ll have me bawling like a newborn calf if you don’t watch out.”
Fighting the lump lodged in his throat, Cameron smiled. “Maybe I’ll join you.”
“While you two are crying, I have horses to tend.” Logan left without looking back.
Emma’s gaze followed him. “I don’t understand that boy.”
Her “boy” was all of thirty and then some.
“He needs to fall in love or something to take the edge off,” Molly said.
“Wish he would. Might bring him down a peg or two to meet his match in a female.” Emma’s attention returned to Cameron, her smile returning with it. “It’s good to have you home, son.”
“It’s good to be back.” Despite the bad feelings between him and the male members of his family, Cameron really was glad to be back in the mountains. “What have you been up to?” He stood back and stared down at her dusty jeans.
His mother laughed. “I was lunging a new filly I think will make a good mount for Molly. Logan’s set to break her next week.” Emma Morgan didn’t apologize for her appearance and Cameron didn’t expect her to. From the time she could walk she’d been riding horses. Having children or a husband didn’t slow her down for a minute. In this respect, Molly was slightly different. Although an accomplished barrel racer, Molly wasn’t as passionate about riding horses as her mother, preferring to go to college and learn more about what goes into making a good healthy horse.
“Did Molly tell you she made Dean’s List again?” his mother asked.
Cameron clapped a hand to his sister’s back. “So, does that make every semester so far?”
Molly shrugged, but a grin lit her freckled face. “Yeah. Gotta have top grades to get into Colorado State’s Veterinary School.”
“You’ll make it at that rate.” His sister was smart and determined to succeed, like every other Morgan on the ranch. They’d been raised to win. He wondered where he’d have been if he’d taken the football scholarship to University of Colorado, instead of tossing it all and joining the army. Not that he regretted joining the army. He’d learned more in his six years as a Ranger than if he’d spent the same six in college.
“Molly, why don’t you get your brother something to drink?”
“What’ll you have? Coffee, soda or beer? I’m legal now, you know.” Already on her way to the kitchen, Molly smiled over her shoulder. “What’ll it be?”
“Water would be great.”
As soon as Molly left the living room, Emma Morgan’s smile turned downward. “What’s wrong?”
His mother could always see through him and he wasn’t going to stall her as he had Logan. His mother would listen and if he hoped to get his father to hear and understand, he had to convince her of the danger and the need to be careful. “Prescott Personal Securities has come across some kind of conspiracy and we think it’s headed toward the border of the Bar M and the Flying W.”
The light died in her eyes and her lips thinned into a straight line. “Tell me about it.”
Molly returned with a glass of water and they sat on the brown leather chairs around the stone fireplace. For the next twenty minutes Cameron told them what he’d told the Wards.
“Wow. It’s all kinda scary. Do you really think we’re in danger?” Molly asked, a frown mixing the freckles on her brow.
Cameron nodded, his gaze focused on his mother’s worried, dust-streaked face. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I know you wouldn’t have come out to tell us if you didn’t mean it.” His mother patted his hand. “I’m just sorry it has to be bad news that brings you out.” She sighed. “Now, all we have to do is convince the men. I’m going to clean up for dinner. Your father will be in at any moment. Logan’s probably clued him in that you’re here.”
As soon as his mother left the room, Molly pounced on him with questions of her own. “How was Jennie? I haven’t seen her in so long. Are you two going to start seeing each other again? I think this whole feud mess is just stupid and we should tell Dad to just get over it.”
“Tell Dad to get over what?” The deep, rich timbre of Tom Morgan’s voice filled the room all the way to the exposed rough-hewn timbers in the cathedral ceiling.
Cameron rose from the chair and almost laughed out loud at his sister.
Molly’s eyes widened and she gulped. She stood and hooked Cameron’s arm, turning him to face his father. “Dad, look who’s here.”
His father dipped his head. “Son.” No hug, no smile. Just one word and it was as cold as a blue norther screaming down off the slopes. What did it take to melt the mountain of ice around his father’s heart? Would he ever forgive him