Patty's Homecoming, page 2
part #1 of Montana Wranglers Series
“Glad to hear you’re on the same page.”
“Always.” He nodded. “Course, God only knows who we’re going to end up with now for a housekeeper.”
“May she’ll be older than Daniel and covered in warts. And we’ll sic her on the little shit in payback.” Blake growled.
Laughing at that, Corbin shook his head. “Damn, that’s just mean. As long as she can cook and hold her own around the ranch, I don’t give two shits what she looks like. But pretty would be good.”
“You are a dog.”
“Yup.” He nodded happily. “I am.” At that, he let out a howl that had even his sour-faced friend laughing. It was quiet and subdued, but it was a laugh. His work was done, for the moment anyway.
Chapter Two
Patricia Graymont loved the city. She loved how there was always someone doing something, loved how there was always movement and action. At twenty-eight years old, she had done a great number of things. She had gone to college, achieved her degree and, even better, opened an interior design company that took off like a skyrocket.
She was, however, a country girl through and through, so she called her daddy every chance she got, but it seemed that her going home slowed. It seemed that she was always putting off going home instead of just doing it. There was always something that came up to keep her from doing that, going home. Thankfully, her father would come visit her often, but she rarely visited the ranch anymore. For two reasons.
Blake and Corbin.
Yep, she was one of those idiots that fell in love with the unattainable men in question.
Oh well. Life went on. She knew that those boys would always have a place in her heart.
“Mr. Trevino. It’s so nice to meet you.” Patricia rose from her seat and smoothed down her flowing dress and then offered her hand to him.
She knew what he saw. A woman with honey-blonde hair with natural sun streaks, peaches-and-cream complexion, and bright green eyes. She knew he would also see her intelligence shining in her eyes. The large man took her hand and shook it, holding it just a bit longer than she was comfortable with.
Bending over her hand, the man pressed a kiss to the top of it. “Bella, you are very beautiful. I see now why my cousin sent me your way. Beautiful, and with an eye for design. You are truly a treasure.”
One thing her daddy taught her was that not all snakes rattle before they bite, and most blend in with their environment rather well. And this man, he was a snake. However, he was a high-paying snake who had his hands in a bit of everything and could make or break her with one comment. “Thank you very much, Mr. Trevino. Please, come in and have a seat. Please call me Patricia.” She didn’t allow her clients to call her by any nickname. The only ones that did that were back home in Montana.
“Patricia, bellissima,” he said smoothly and took a seat after she did. “As much as I would like to take my time with this meeting and getting to know you, I sadly have pressing issues that need my attention. So let me tell you what I am looking for.”
Smiling at him, she nodded. “I think that would be best, Mr. Trevino.”
“Ahh, bella, please call me Antonio.”
As uncomfortable as it made her, she smiled, nodded and said, “Of course, Antonio. Thank you for that. Now. Let’s discuss what you want, your budget, and time frame. When we meet again I should have a plan for you.”
* * * *
Six weeks later…
“I can’t do this,” Patricia whispered to the man that sat across the table from her. “What you are asking me to do goes against everything that I have been taught.” She had grown up in a small town where everyone knew everything about everyone and even if there was trouble, you didn’t stick your nose in it because everyone knew that when you did, trouble rumbled your way.
“Ms. Graymont, what we are asking you to do would help your government. Antonio Trevino is a man that is very, very bad and we have been trying to get close to him for some time. You are actually the first legitimate businesswoman that he’s dealt with and you cutting him off three weeks ago has only fueled his desire to have you again. He’s done everything he can to get you back, and you not swaying has him nearly frothing. All that we are asking you to do is go back to the job. Tell him that your schedule has lightened and you are able to work with him once more. We will then have our men contracting for you, you won’t even know who they are. In fact, we have had three men on your team and you didn’t even know it.”
“You what?” How? Who? What the fuck? “Excuse me?” She personally hired each person on her team, and not a single one of them had anything out of place. Not a single one of them was ever employed in any law enforcement capacity.
“All we need you to do is take the contract back. Let him wine and dine you, and let us do our work. You will always be watched over and safe, Ms. Graymont, I swear that to you.”
She knew it was bad, oh, it was so many shades of bad, but she heard herself agreeing to do as this agent asked her to do. In the back of her mind, she knew it was a bad idea. Damn it was such a bad idea, but she would do it anyway.
* * * *
Two months later…
Every part of her body hurt. She lay there on the hospital bed with a nurse snapping pictures of her, and a doctor notating her injuries for the police report. Thank God the rape kit had showed negative, that was the only plus in the whole fiasco.
“Well Ms. Graymont, there are no broken bones. You have one hell of a concussion though, so we are going to keep you overnight for observation. You might have short-term memory loss, impaired vision or auditory hallucinations, just know that is normal. If it continues for more than a week, however, you need to either come back into the emergency room or see your family doctor immediately.”
Yeah right. That so was not going to happen, neither was her staying there overnight. She might have been knocked the hell out for the beating of a lifetime, but it wasn’t until after that she heard who ordered her to be mugged, and she sure as hell was getting out of town while the gettin’ was good.
“Thank you,” she said in a near whisper. “Can I get something for the pain? Not something that will put me out but anything, ibuprofen, acetaminophen, anything.”
“I will get you two Tylenol, but that’s all. I’m sorry, but at this moment in time giving you something stronger would only aggravate your concussion.”
“Tylenol will work. My momma always said sometimes all you need is a couple of Tylenol and life is good.” God, she missed her mom. Thinking about her even now made her wish she were here again. Her momma would know what to do, how to approach her daddy about this, because Patricia sure as hell didn’t.
“Good. I will talk to the officers. They might have questions for you. Are you up for them?”
“Sure.” Get it over with now so that she could run as soon as night descended upon the city.
“All right. We will be right back. Helen,” he said to the nurse, “Will you get Ms. Graymont two Tylenol 500mg and a glass of ice water please? Her room should be ready when the officers have finished.” He finished his paperwork and passed her the board and took the camera. “I will hand her off to you.” He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and nodded. “You are safe here. Do you want me to ensure that there is an officer stationed outside your door?”
“Thank you but no. It was just a common mugging.” Bullshit. If her daddy were there, he would spank her ass for lying. “It happens all the time in New York, just the first time for me,” she said and smiled, wincing with the busted lip she had. “Thank you Doc, you have been great.”
“Doing my job,” he said and lowered the lights before walking out.
* * * *
A week later…
“Damn,” she muttered and looked at herself in the hotel mirror. “All right, nothing makeup won’t cover, right? Gotta get to the ranch today or Daddy will send someone looking for me.” She hadn’t called her father in two weeks, the last week because she had been running, but that was beside the point.
Caking makeup on as heavy as she could get it, she brushed it all out to perfection as it should be and then smiled. Thankfully her lip had healed, so that was no longer an issue. “There, no one will be the wiser.” As long as she didn’t get one of those back-slapping hugs, or she didn’t put on a bathing suit, or shorts, or a short-sleeve shirt. Oh hell, she was in so much trouble. Her father was going to have a fit.
Sighing, she shook her head and winced. Recalling the bruises on her neck, too, she applied heavy makeup to hide the obvious handprints that still covered it. Someone who was easy to bruise as Patricia was, encountering this level of violence…yeah, she would carry the bruises for a while. Dammit.
Taking a deep breath, proud that she barely winced, she grabbed her rolling case and headed down to the lobby to check out. She got into her rental car. Yeah, driving with a concussion wasn’t smart, but staying in New York where Anthony Trevino could get to her easily was just plain stupid.
Settling in, she turned on the AC and headed for the Ranch. Passing the fence line, she smiled. God, she had walked and ridden the entire fence line, helped put it up even when her father didn’t know she was.
Home. Sweet, sweet home. This was where she needed to be. Where she wanted to be.
Pulling into the long drive, she headed for the main house, knowing that at this time of day her father would be inside working on bills. He was so predictable.
Parking in front of the house instead of around back, she got out of the car, grabbed her purse, and lifted a hand to one of the hands—Trey? No, that wasn’t his name. Hell, she couldn’t recall it so she just waved and headed for the door.
Opening it without knocking, she called out, “Daddy! Guess who’s come home for a mini-vacation?!”
Chapter Three
September 23, 2013
“Patty-cake?” Her father’s deep voice came from the bowels of the house. Then he appeared in the doorway of his office. The grin that cracked his face had her smiling right back, a real smile. “Baby, about damned time you got here. I was prepared to actually go to that den of iniquity you call a city to find you and drag you back home.” He came right toward her, long strides, his arms opening up wide for a hug.
Patricia didn’t think, she simply went into her father’s arms. Biting back the pain that she knew was coming she hugged him tightly. “Daddy, you and I both know that you wouldn’t leave the ranch. You would have instead made one of the boys come get me.” The boys, as her father called them, were all grown men that lived on the ranch and made it their home. They worked hard, and played harder. Patty knew, she had grown up here. “I just got so wrapped up in work. You know how it is, Daddy.”
One of his arms went low around her waist, the other hand cupped her head. It was gentle and not like any hug she’d ever gotten from her father. Usually he scooped her up, swung her around and squeezed until she made a squeaky-toy sound in desperation for oxygen. “I know that you haven’t called, baby, and that worries your old man,” he said against her temple.
“I know. I’m sorry, Daddy.” She breathed in the clean scent that was all her father. The intense happiness and joy that filled her was surreal and it was something she never wanted to be without again. “I’ve missed you, Daddy. I think I will stick around for a little while this time before moving on. I think next I’m going to L.A.” She teased him.
“Not on your life, girl,” he said staring down at her through narrowed eyes. “It will be a cold day in you-know-what before I let you move there. New York was bad enough, but you are not moving to L.A. Not until I’m long gone from this world and even then, if you do, I promise to haunt you each and every single day.” He stepped back and took her arm, “Now, we’re going to sit and have some coffee. And you are going to tell me absolutely everything that I’ve been missing out hearing for the last weeks.”
“How about I have some sweet tea instead? It’s too hot for coffee, Daddy,” she told him with a smile. Yeah, and there was no way in hell that she would tell him everything. “However, I so wouldn’t mind it if you had some of Mrs. Westerly’s apple pie. Then I would totally have some coffee instead of tea.”
“You know that old biddy is always dropping her pies here. So you’re having coffee and, you’re lucky, I just made a fresh pot.” He herded her into the large kitchen and practically bum-rushed her into a chair. Then he grabbed plates, the pie, forks, and a knife. Setting everything on the table, he went back and moments later came back with her coffee how she liked it. Sitting across from her, he narrowed his eyes on her again. “Spill it, Patty-cake, all of it.”
“Oh, she’s only doing the pies because she’s hoping that you will one day figure out that she wants you to ask her out,” she told him with a laugh. She took a bite of the pie and sighed. “You cannot get anything like her pie in New York.” She tasted home in that bite of heaven. “Really, there is nothing to spill.” Except that a massive mob boss was maybe hunting her down, which was the reason she would likely be relocating to LA, or the fact that the FBI wanted to put her into protective custody for her own good. Yeah. Not happening.
Her father sipped his coffee for a time, letting her eat, and then he pinned her under a look she knew too well. He knew something and wasn’t afraid to use it. But he said nothing, just stared at her, and stared and stared. Finally he let out a sigh and got to his feet. “I’ll let you enjoy your pie. I’ll just take your bag up to your room and then see where Miranda got to. Girl keeps getting distracted, I should have found someone older,” he muttered. Stopping at her side, he touched her chin, turning her face up. “When you want to talk to your old man about it, I’m here for you, baby.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Daddy.” She gave him a look and once more she was that child, the kid who knew that her father knew just what she had gotten into. “Who’s Miranda, Daddy? What happened to what’s-her-name?” She couldn’t recall the housekeeper’s name. She was a witch though, and Patty couldn’t stand her because of how she looked at Blake and Corbin, but that was beside the point.
“Constantine quit and Miranda is her replacement. Maybe.” He had an annoyed look on his face. “She’s a nice enough girl, but I don’t know, I think it may be too much for her. I will say this for her though, she’s smart enough to avoid Trevor and his ill-suited humor. I swear, that boy is asking Blake to lay a beating on him. And, quite frankly, I’m about to the point where I’d pay good money for a front-row seat. If he weren’t such a good worker and didn’t know his stuff, I’d fire him just for being such a jerk. May have to,” he muttered. “Either that or Blake’ll kill him.”
“Oh lord, which one is he?” She had to search her memories and then she said, “Oh yeah, him. Yeah, he has a mouth on him but he knows horses.” He was a horse’s ass so of course he knew them. “Give her a chance, Dad. If she is a smart girl and has already figured out how to sidestep Trevor then she has a serious chance of working out. Just give her direction.”
“Mm,” he grumbled and shook his head. “Anyway, I need to go and find her, remind her she needs to get the evening meal on. You’ll like her, she’s sweet and can cook like nobody’s business. Apparently her parents, or maybe it was a cousin, owned a restaurant and she used to help out all the time. Which, given the number of hardy lads around here, is a good thing. She knows how to cook in large quantities.” Leaning in, he kissed the top of her head. “Eat your pie and, when you’re done, we’ll go for a walk so I can show you my newest pony.”
“Sounds good.” She watched her father go and let out a breath. Maybe coming home wasn’t such a good idea. She rubbed her temples and sighed. She had to get herself together because she couldn’t put him in danger. She just needed to heal and then she would disappear, for a while at least. She had to, it was the only way.
Ten minutes later, they were walking arm in arm toward the paddocks. A few of the men were around but none all that close. Just far enough away that they likely wouldn’t recognize her, hopefully. “And this here is Diamond’s Frost,” her father said when they reached the fence. “She’s only a year old but she’s got gorgeous lines. And her parentage is spectacular. I had to fight to keep from drooling when I was in negotiations for her. But I got her at a fair price and, if she grows up like I think she will, will pay for herself a thousand times over.” The young foal pranced around, kicking up her hooves occasionally before stopping to stare at this or that. White in color, even her mane was an unusual and pure white, not yellowed as some were. She had a pure and clean look to her.
Patty reached up and stroked her hand over the mare’s muzzle. “Oh, she’s gorgeous.” She could see why her father had wanted her. You could tell by the look in her eye that she was going to be a winner, she had a strong heart and will. “She’s going to be amazing. She’s strong, you can see it in her eyes, not just the lines of her body, but she knows it and she understands it.” Weird, she knew, but that’s how she thought of it. She might not have her father’s eye for detail but she knew a good horse—no, a great one—when she saw it.
“She definitely knows she’s the princess of the stable,” a deep, familiar voice said behind her. “Sorry to interrupt, Daniel, but Miranda had a question that I sure as hell ain’t answering.” It was clear that the man didn’t deal well with Miranda, not that he didn’t like her, but she was a woman that he simply didn’t know how to deal with.
“Not a problem, thanks Blake,” her father said in exasperation. Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes, baby.” He stepped away. “Hello Rusty,” he said and the horse nickered in reply.
Patty knew that voice, without turning she knew who it was. Before her father even said his name, she knew who it was. Giving Diamond one last pat, she turned to face Blake. Shoving her hands into her jeans, she leaned back against the fence, wincing at the contact and rocking forward on her feet. “Hey Blake, how you doing?” Damn, of course she had to run into him. What was that saying, of all the gin joints or something like that?
