Falling For The Rebound Bride

Love that now embraced him, welcoming him home...even as it chastised him for staying away so long. But...

Colin frowned. “I would’ve thought if Granville was going to leave the ranch to a Talbot, it would’ve been to you.”

His father snorted. “First off, I wouldn’t’ve wanted it. Not at this point in my life. Which Gran knew. Second...” Dad’s mouth twitched. “He also knew exactly what he was doing, leaving it to your brother and his daughter equally.”

“Ah.”

“Exactly. Because sometimes fate needs a little kick in the butt.” Dad squinted. “So. What’s going on, son?”

Underneath his father’s obvious—and understandable—concern, Colin could still hear hints of the my-way-or-the-highway gruffness that’d raised his hackles a million times ever since he was old enough to realize there was a whole world outside of this tiny speck of it wedged beside a northern New Mexican mountain range. A world that needed him maybe, even if it’d be years before Colin figured out how, exactly. That hadn’t changed, even if...

And the problem with voluntarily reinserting yourself into the circle of the people who—for good or ill—loved you most was that there would be questions.

How truthfully Colin could answer those questions was something else again.

Chapter Three (#ulink_a8c243f8-57b2-54ce-9156-fc16be12cac2)

Sucking in a slow, steady breath, Colin managed a smile. “Why am I back, you mean?”

Dad crossed his arms over what was left of his belly. But the fire in those fierce gray eyes hadn’t diminished one bit. “Seems as good a place as any to start. Especially since your mother and me, we’d pretty much given up on that ever happening, to be truthful.”

“I stayed in touch,” Colin said, realizing how pitiful that sounded even before the words were out of his mouth.

“When it suited you, sure.”

Even after all this time he still couldn’t put into words what exactly had driven him away. Which was nuts. But all he’d known was that if he’d stayed he would’ve gone mad.

“I had things to do I couldn’t do here,” he said simply.

After a moment, his father started toward the nondescript but reasonably updated kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee from the old-school Mr. Coffee on the counter. “Decaf,” Dad groused, holding up the cup before taking a swallow and making a face. Then, leaning one roughened hand against the counter, he sighed. “Not gonna lie, for a long time it hurt like hell, after you left. That, on top of the crap Levi pulled...”

This said with an indulgent smile. Most likely because from everything Josh had said last night, his twin, Levi—who after a stint in the army was now back and married to the local girl he’d been secretly sweet on in school—and Dad had worked out their differences.

His father’s gaze met his again. “Although I honestly don’t know why I ever thought the four of you would stick around. That you’d naturally be as tied to the place as I was, and my daddy and granddaddy before me. No, let me finish, I’ve been waiting a long time to say this.” Frowning, he glanced toward the window over the sink, then back at Colin. “Then this happened—” he gestured with the cup toward his chest “—and I guess when they put that stent in my artery more blood went to my brain and opened that up, too. And I realized if you expect your kids to be clones of you, you’re not raising ’em right. You all have to follow your own paths, not mine. And I’m good with that.” One side of his mouth lifted. “Mostly, anyway. But you can’t blame me for being curious about what’s prompted the surprise visit.”

With that, it occurred to Colin his father hadn’t seemed all that surprised, really. So much for swearing to God. “Josh told you I was here.”

“He felt a heads-up wouldn’t be a bad idea. I didn’t tell your mother, though.” His father chuckled. “After all these years—and raising you boys—it takes a lot to pull one over on her. Couldn’t resist the opportunity to see the look on her face when you showed up. Although she will kill me if she ever found out I knew before she did.”

Somehow, Colin doubted that. Sure, his folks bickered from time to time, same as any couple who’d been married a million years. They were human, after all. But there’d never been any doubt that Sam Talbot still, after those million years, knew he’d struck gold with Billie, who’d known a good thing—or so the story went—the instant she’d clapped eyes on the tall, lanky cowboy when she’d been barely out of school herself, and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what they had. Even if she didn’t let him get away with bubkes. It was all about balance with his mother, for sure.

Something Colin would do well to figure out for himself. And by himself.

Leaning against a pantry cupboard, he crossed his arms. “I got offered a book contract from a big publisher, for a collection of my photo-essays over the past several years.”

His father’s brows shot up. “Really?”

Colin nodded. “But I want to add some new material, too. So I need...” His mouth set, he glanced away, then back at his father. “I need someplace quiet to work. To sift through my thoughts about the subject matter.”

“Which is?”

He felt his chest knot. “The plight of kids around the world.”

Something flashed in his father’s eyes. Colin couldn’t tell—and didn’t want to know, frankly—what. “Refugees, you mean?”

“Among others. Children living in poverty, in war-torn countries, whatever. I want...” He swallowed. “The whole reason I take pictures is so other people can see what I’ve seen.”

“Sounds like quite an honor. That offer, I mean.”

“I don’t... That’s not how it feels to me. It’s more that—”

“It’s your calling.”

“I guess. A calling that came to me, though. I didn’t go looking for it.”

A smile barely curved his father’s mouth. “That’s how callings work, boy. They tend to clobber a person over the head. But your own place wouldn’t work?”

“College kids in the next unit,” Colin said, hoping his face didn’t give him away. Although he wasn’t lying. Exactly. “One thing they’re not, is quiet.”

His father’s eyes narrowed, as though not quite buying the story. Hardly a surprise, considering he’d survived four teenage boys. Then his lips tilted again.

“And you know what? I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or question its motives. I’m just glad you’re here. For however long that turns out to be. And I cannot tell you how proud I am of you.”

Holy hell—he couldn’t remember his father ever saying that to him. About anything. Oh, Dad would occasionally nod appreciatively over something one or the other of them had done when they were kids, but actually giving voice to whatever he’d been thinking? Nope.

Old man hadn’t been kidding about the blood flow thing.

“Thank you,” Colin said.

And there was the nod. Because clearly Sam Talbot was as surprised as his son. Then he took another sip of his coffee, his brows drawn. “Josh also said Deanna’s cousin Emily showed up with you.”

Colin smiled. “I think it’s more that I showed up with her. We were on the same flight coming in from Dallas.”

“Pretty little thing.”

“She is.” Although not so little, actually. And of course now that Dad had brought her up, those mad, sad, conflicted eyes flashed in his mind’s eye. No wonder, now that he knew the reason behind the ambivalence. In some ways it was probably worse for her, since she was younger. Fewer life experiences and all that—

“Well. Just wanted to touch base,” Colin said, pushing away from the counter. For a moment disappointment flickered in his father’s eyes—a previously unseen glimpse of a soft spot that rattled Colin more than he’d expected. Or was about to let on. “I need to get in some supplies before I can start work,” he said gently. “But I’ll be back for dinner, remember? Or we can go out, if you’d rather. My treat.”

The right thing to say, apparently, judging from the way Dad perked right up. “That’d be real nice, either way. Depends on what your mother wants to do, of course.”

“Of course. I’ll call around five, see what’s up.”

They were back outside by now, where that chilly spring breeze grabbed at Colin’s hair, slapped at his clean-shaven face. Patches of old snow littered the parts of the yard that didn’t get direct sunlight, reminders that up this far, winter wasn’t over until it said so...images that at one time would’ve been nothing more than benign reminders of his childhood. Now, not even the bright sunlight could mitigate other reminders, other images, of how cruel—for too many people—winter could be when home had been ripped out from under you.

“Sounds good,” Dad said, palming the spot between Colin’s shoulder blades. “When you planning on seeing your other brothers? Zach, especially—you two were so close as kids.”

Colin supposed they had been, although age and isolation—and being roommates—had probably had more to do with that than temperament. Zach had been the quiet one, the steady one...the obedient one. The one Colin could count on to not judge when he’d go off about not being able to wait to get out of Whispering Pines.