Richard looked from brother to sister. He advanced slowly toward Grady, then paused. “I don’t blame you, Grady. You have every right to be angry.”
“You’ve got that straight.”
“What I did was despicable.” Richard stretched out his arm to Savannah, as if he needed her to stand with him. She stepped to his side, wanting to right the past and thrust all the ugliness behind them. They were a family, and if they couldn’t forgive one another, then they’d be hypocrites to sit in church every Sunday. The Good Book was full of the power of forgiveness. Only this wasn’t what Grady wanted to hear. Not now. Not yet. He demanded his pound of flesh first, and while Savannah understood his anger, she wanted him to give Richard the opportunity to set things straight.
“Despicable is only one in a long list of words that come to mind when I think of you.” Grady’s face was hard and unyielding. He’d braced his feet apart in a way that said it would take the strength of ten men to budge him from that porch. Nothing Richard could say would change his mind. Savannah had bumped against that pride of his often enough to know. Unless something drastic happened, Grady wouldn’t let Richard set foot in the home where he was born and raised.
Her younger brother hung his head in shame. “I don’t blame you for hating me.”
“Oh, Richard, you don’t know how difficult it was for us,” Savannah said, despite her determination to hold her tongue.
Richard’s face crumpled with regret. “I’m so sorry. I was young and stupid, and then once I owned up to what I’d done...I couldn’t face you and Grady. I was too ashamed.”
“You stole that money from your own flesh and blood!” Grady spit out.
“I was crazy with grief,” Richard pleaded, sounding the same way he had as a child when he knew he’d done something wrong. “I didn’t think. All I knew was that Mom and Dad were gone.”
“And Dad had stored away a hunk of cash,” Grady said.
Richard gestured weakly. “I was never cut out to be a cowboy, even you have to admit that,” he said, and glanced up at Grady for confirmation. “I could read the writing on the wall. With Dad gone you’d expect me to help around the place, and it just wasn’t in me. Still isn’t. Cows and me never saw eye to eye. You said it more than once yourself.” He gave a crooked half smile, enticing Grady to agree with him.
Grady remained cold and silent, his eyes as hard as flint.
“I know it was wrong to take that money. A thousand times since, I’ve cursed myself for being so stupid, so greedy.”
“You should have phoned,” Savannah chastised. “You could have let us know where you were. Grady and I were worried sick.” She looked to her brother to continue, to explain what they’d endured because of Richard.
Once again Grady’s cool silence was answer enough.
“I thought about coming home,” Richard said in a small pleading voice. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of it. You’re right, Savannah,” he said, rushing his words. “I should’ve called. I know that now, but I was afraid of what you’d say. I didn’t have the courage to face you.”
“What happened to the money?” Grady threw the question at his brother with a vengeance.
“The money,” Richard repeated, and the sigh that followed said it all.
“You blew it,” Grady said with disgust.
“I put it up as capital in a business venture. My plan,” he said, glancing desperately to Savannah and then Grady, “was to triple it and share the profits with you two. I thought if I did that, you’d forgive me and let me come home. Then we could go on the way we always have. But—” he paused and looked away “—the venture went sour.”
“In other words you lost everything.”
Richard nodded slowly. “The investment wasn’t as solid as I was led to believe. It was a bitter lesson. But you have to understand,” he added, motioning toward Grady, “I was desperate to come home.” His voice shook as though the memory was as painful to him as it was to Savannah and Grady. “By this time I missed you both so much I would have done anything to find a way home.”
“You could have written,” Savannah said. “Even if you weren’t ready to talk to us...” For months she’d prayed for a letter, a phone call, anything that would explain what had happened. She’d refused to give up hope, refused to believe Richard would steal from them and then just disappear. After six months she stopped making excuses, and when they hadn’t heard from him after a year, his name was dropped from their conversations.
“I wanted to write,” Richard said, leaping on her words. “I tried. As God is my witness, I tried, but I was never good with words. How could I possibly explain everything in a letter?”
Grady snickered loudly. “Seems to me you’re about as slick with words as a snake-oil salesman.”
A flash of pain appeared in Richard’s eyes. “You really hate me, don’t you, Grady?”
“How could we hate you?” Savannah answered in Grady’s stead, fearing his response. “You’re our brother.”
At her words Richard rallied somewhat and gazed around the yard. “You’ve obviously done all right by yourselves. The ranch looks great.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Think about it, Grady,” Richard challenged. “What good would I have been to you if I’d stuck around? As far as I’m concerned, cows smell bad, have a negative disposition and are always needing something done to them. If I’d stayed, I wouldn’t have been any help. Okay, I admit taking the money was pretty underhand, but all I really did was lay claim to part of my inheritance a little early.”
“We almost lost the ranch,” Savannah felt obliged to tell him. Surely he must have realized that? “Richard, I don’t think you have a clue how hard it’s been for Grady and me,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated with what sounded like genuine regret. “How many times do I need to say it?”
“Sorry?” Grady said the word as though it were the foulest obscenity.
Richard ignored the outburst. “I’ll admit that what I did was rotten, but would it really have been such a bad thing if you’d been forced to sell the land?”
“What do you mean?” Savannah asked, certain she wasn’t hearing him correctly. This land had been in the Weston family for generations. Their ancestors had settled here, worked the land, raised cattle. Generations of Westons had been buried here in a small cemetery plot overlooking the main pasture. This land was their heritage, their birthright. Their future. That Richard could suggest selling it revealed how little he understood or appreciated the legacy.
“These days everyone knows its not a good idea to eat a lot of red meat,” he explained when it became apparent that his words had upset her. “The beef industry’s been declining steadily for some time, or so I hear. Actually I’m surprised you’ve held on to the old place this long.”
Savannah’s heart sank. It seemed impossible that Richard shared the same blood that flowed through Grady’s veins and hers. But he was her brother and she refused to turn her back on him, despite his shortcomings. Despite his betrayal.
“You think because you say you’re sorry it makes everything right?” Grady asked, his voice shaking with such rage Savannah feared he was near exploding. “Do you honestly believe you can walk back into our lives as if you’d done nothing wrong? I’m here to tell you it’s not going to happen.”
Confused and uncertain, Richard looked to his sister for support. “But I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary to make it up to you.”
“Give