Colton's Cowboy Code. Melissa Cutler
picturing the fury in their expressions when they told him their heathen daughter was dead to them put Brett in a fighting mood. “What’s more, Hannah hadn’t told them I was the father. I don’t think she’s told anybody. Does that sound like the actions of someone trying to scam me?”
“A background check still wouldn’t hurt,” Ryan muttered.
Brett shook his head, ignoring Ryan, his attention on Jack. “So, to answer your question, yes, I am moving her in here. She’s homeless, jobless, out of money—and she’s having my baby. And she’s too stubborn to agree to anything that has the whiff of charity, which was why I offered her a job. Full-time with benefits so I can make sure she and the baby get the proper health care they need.”
He could tell he was breaking through their judgmental walls because they’d started to squirm, their eyes averted. Time to drive the nail the rest of the way in. He stood and tossed his napkin on the table. “Y’all keep banging on me about being irresponsible, and I’m the first to admit that I used to be. But even if you can’t see it, I’ve changed. This is me being responsible, doing the right thing and living up to our family’s code of honor. Ask yourself—what would you do if you were in my shoes?”
That shut them down, all but his dad. “Did you at least offer to make her an honest woman?”
The head of steam Brett had built up diffused a little. If they were moving on to questions like that, then perhaps his family was ready to accept Brett’s new reality. “This is the twenty-first century, Pops. A woman doesn’t have to be married to be considered honest.”
Dad chuffed at that, clearly a nonbeliever in that vein of modern-day feminism. “When’s this Hannah woman coming to the ranch?”
“I’m going into town to get her as soon as we’re done here.”
A car engine sounded outside. Everyone craned their necks to look out the windows. Brett took a few steps in that direction in time to watch a yellow taxi disappear along the road leading away from the house.
“Something tells me Ms. Hannah Grayson has saved you from having to make a trip into town,” Ryan said.
Jack clapped his hands together as he stood. “Let’s get this introduction over with.”
The somber resignation in Jack’s tone set Brett’s teeth on edge again. He whirled around, a warning on his tongue for everyone to behave themselves and show Hannah the respect she deserved, but Edith saved him from it.
“I have a better idea,” she said brightly from the doorway, where she stood with the rolling coffee cart in front of her, blocking passage. “Let’s give our new houseguest a chance to settle in first, before she has to contend with a household of grouchy men. Let Brett help her get acclimated first. Greta will be here tomorrow, and I can’t think of a better way to celebrate a new baby than with a big family dinner.”
Thank you, Edith. She was a commanding force in the house, not because she was pushy or overbearing, but because of her kindness and levelheaded management of the household since before Brett was born. The family respected her too much to defy her will. It was all he could do to keep himself from throwing his arms around her.
“That’s a perfect idea,” Brett said. “Hannah’s skittish enough about being here.”
Dad pushed himself out of his easy chair. “I like that plan. That’ll give me some time to get used to the idea.”
“You can eat at our house tonight, Big J,” Tracy said. “We can let Brett and Hannah have a private dinner together. It sounds like they still have a lot to talk about, if they just connected yesterday.”
That was a perfect idea. He’d have to talk to Edith about arranging for a multicourse dinner for the two of them, a meal they could really linger over while they got to know each other. “Thank you, Tracy.”
Eric rattled his car keys and inched toward the exit that Edith was still blocking. “I’ll try to make it tomorrow night, but I have a late shift at the hospital.” In other words, he was begging out of the event, as usual, because there was no way he drew so many short straws for late shifts at the hospital, coincidentally any time the rest of the Coltons planned a get-together.
“If we wait until tomorrow, then Tracy and Seth can meet Hannah at the same time, too.”
“I’ll plan a big dinner. Brett, you figure out what she likes and dislikes. Maybe there’s something she’s been craving.”
“Thank you,” Brett said. So relieved.
She stepped to the side and swept her hand toward the rear of the house. “Out the back entrance, all of you. No sense in intimidating her in the first five minutes she gets here with a big group of strapping, foul-tempered cowboys.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan mumbled in an exaggerated drawl. He kissed Edith’s cheek as he passed, as they each did, in a show of respect to the woman who’d played a fundamental part of their upbringing and daily lives for decades.
When the last of them had filed out of the room, she smiled lovingly at Brett. “I’ll talk to the staff and make sure you get the space you need to do this your way. And I’ll send Mavis up to the guest suite next to yours and have it fixed up for Hannah in no time. Fresh linens and the works.”
He gathered all hundred pounds of her in a tight hug, lifting her off her feet. “You’re a lifesaver. How do you always know the exact right thing to say?”
She blushed and swatted her hand through the air, dismissing the praise. “Hush, now. Go on and find Hannah before she gets cold feet and calls that taxi back.”
* * *
Hannah crept along the wraparound porch of Brett’s massive house, away from the window where she’d been eavesdropping. Not that she’d set out with the idea of listening in on Brett’s family’s conversation, but once she’d stumbled into hearing range, she’d been powerless to resist.
A case of cold feet had compelled her to ask the taxi driver to wait there until she gave him the all-clear to leave, just in case she had a change of heart or she’d accidentally come to the wrong house or she’d misunderstood Brett’s desire for her to move in that day. The driver hadn’t been too keen on waiting, but she’d promised him he could leave the meter running and after a bit more begging, he’d acquiesced.
After climbing the tall staircase leading from the circular driveway up to the mansion sitting on the highest and most central part of the ranch, she’d knocked and pressed the doorbell, but no one had answered. The longer she stood there, the more nervous she got and the more she doubted her decision to show up early.
Thinking that the house was so big that it was entirely possible that no one had heard the doorbell ring, she’d followed the porch around to the side of the house, which was when she’d heard voices. More specifically, she’d heard one of the men in the room explain his theory that their mother’s attacker was still on the loose and, potentially, had been lurking around the ranch.
Wait, what? That wasn’t what the local news had been reporting. Last night, she’d used Lori’s computer to research Brett’s mother’s attack. What she’d learned had made her heart break for Brett and his family. His mother had been attacked in her bedroom and left for dead, her belongings ransacked and her jewelry stolen by—according to the news report—a hit man who’d been hired to off Brett’s older brother’s fiancée. The main suspect had been gunned down, or so the police and the newspaper had indicated.
She continued to listen to Brett’s family talk, justifying the eavesdropping because she deserved to know if she was safe at the ranch or not, or if Brett had glossed over his family’s troubles in his fervor to get her to agree to his plan. If there was any chance that she was in danger at the ranch, she could turn right around and leave.
But the more she listened, the more affected she was by the hurt in each man’s voice over their mother’s assault and their frustration