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 for making his own choices and meet him halfway?
“Hi, Dad.” Not for the first time, Cameron regretted the loss of the closeness they’d shared in his teens. Cameron had never understood the rift between Tom Morgan and Hank Ward, and his father hadn’t bothered to enlighten him. The feud resulting from the rift had been the major reason he’d left everything he loved behind—the Bar M Ranch, his family and Jennie.
Logan entered behind his father and stood beside him.
“What brings you out of the big city?” His father slapped his hat against his thigh, a thin cloud of dust rising from the denim.
Cameron knew better than to sugarcoat anything for his father. “Trouble.”
Logan snorted. “Figures.”
“What kind of trouble?” his father asked.
“I think someone might be out to hurt either the Morgans or the Wards. Maybe both. I just came over from the Flying W. Someone took a shot at Hank Ward.”
“Good, the old man probably deserves it,” Logan said.
But his father didn’t respond immediately. His jaw tightened and his brown eyes burned. “You went to the Flying W instead of telling your own family first?”
He should have expected his father to react that way. Nevertheless the older man’s words rubbed Cameron wrong. Jennie had been his sweetheart, his first love.
Tom Morgan had never reconciled himself to Cameron seeing Jennie and viewed his association as defection to the other side.
Cameron opened his mouth to explain his reasoning and thought better of it. “Yes. I stopped at the Flying W.”
“You always were the black sheep. I never could get it through your head that Morgans and Wards don’t mix.”
Molly blew out a loud sigh and let go of Cameron’s arm. “While you men are conducting your pissing contest, I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed in your old room.”
“Don’t bother, Molly.” Cameron’s gaze met his father’s. “I’ll be staying at the Flying W.”
Chapter Four
Cameron held his breath, maintaining a poker face as his father’s chest filled like an overextended balloon. Instead of the explosive tirade Cameron fully expected, Tom Morgan spun on his booted heel and left the house, the door slamming behind him.
Logan shot an intense glare at Cameron and followed his father out the door, leaving Cameron and the women standing in their wake.
Cameron’s mother expelled a long breath and forced a smile. “Well, that went over well, now didn’t it?” She clapped her hands together. “What can I get you? Do you want to take your saddle? You might need it over there.”
“If you still have it, that would be great.” Cameron crossed the room and stood in front of his mother. “I’m sorry if I’ve made things uncomfortable for you and Molly.”
“And I’m sorry your father is so bullheaded.” She smiled up at him and touched a hand to his cheek. “I’m glad to see you, son. Don’t let your father’s attitude make you think any differently.”
He touched a hand to hers, pressing her cool, dry fingers to his heated skin. “You understand why I have to go to the Flying W, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Molly stepped up beside him. “Me, too.”
“There’s another man from the agency, Jack Sanders, who is due to come out to stay with you and provide you with protection. I told him to give it a day before he came.” He sighed. “See what you can do to convince him.” Cameron jerked his head in the direction his father had gone.
“I will. If nothing else, we’ll keep Jack around the house for Molly and me.”
“Not that you can’t handle a gun or horse better than any man in the county. Of that I have no doubt. But it helps to have another pair of eyes looking out for you, especially while you’re working.”
“Thanks, Cam.” His mother pushed her hair back off her dirty face and smiled. “You better get that saddle and hightail it back to the Ward’s place. Hate to think of Hank being laid up and Jennie fending for herself.”
Cameron turned to go and thought again. “Mom, what happened to make Dad hate Hank Ward so much? No one’s ever bothered to tell us.”
His mother drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a touchy subject.”
“Considering what’s going on, now might be the time to tell me about it.”
She glanced toward the windows, her face drawn and looking far older than a moment earlier. “I’m not sure I want to dredge up the past. Some things are best left alone. But, let me think about it.” Then she gave him a weak smile.
“Fair enough.” Disappointed, Cameron knew he couldn’t push for the information. He’d planted the seed, now he’d stand back and wait to see if it grew into enough trust that his mother would tell him what he’d always wanted to know.
Molly grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the door. “I’ll help you find the saddle. I’ve reorganized the tack room in the barn. Come on.”
“See you soon?” Cameron waved a hand toward his mother.
She nodded. “Count on it.”
When Molly had him outside, she dropped his arm. “I thought I’d never get you out of the house. Mom doesn’t like to talk about the feud and the Wards. There’s a lot of bad water under that bridge.”
“Why? Do you know anything about it?”
“All I know is that I heard Mom and Dad arguing one night when I was little. I remember hearing Dad shouting something about Hank and Louise and him being wrong about something.”
Cameron planted his heels in the dirt and turned to Molly. “Wrong about what?”
His sister shrugged. “I don’t know. I was too little to understand, I just remembered the names.”
“It would help to know what’s gone on between them to create such a rift they haven’t talked in over thirty years.”
“I’ll dig around and see what I can find out.”
With a crooked finger, Cameron chucked his sister beneath her chin. “In the meantime, watch out for yourself. Never go out alone.”
Her lips twisted. “Give me a break. I can take care of myself.”
He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye. “Promise me.” His words weren’t a request.
For a moment, she hesitated, a stubborn frown marring her freckled forehead. Her face softened and she nodded. “Okay, I’ll be careful and never go out on my own. There, does that make you feel better?”
He loosened his grip and let her go. “Yes.”
A blond-haired cowboy Cameron didn’t recognize led a bay gelding out of the barn and stopped to adjust the cinch strap. When he looked up, he swept the straw cowboy hat from his head and smiled. “Hi, Miss Molly.”
Molly’s face transformed from serious to all smiles. “Hi, Brad.” Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink