A Family to Come Home To (Saddle Falls) (5 page)

However, he didn’t remember anything about Jesse Ryan.

And he didn’t know if he truly wanted to know because then if he knew, he might have to deal with it and accept it, and accept all that went along with becoming Jesse Ryan—Tommy Ryan’s youngest grandson.

And that meant turning his back on who he’d been his whole life, as well as the woman who’d loved him, raised him as her own. Love and loyalty weren’t just words to him, but something a man—an honorable man—never turned his back on.

He was still reeling from his mother’s death, her confession, and then all these months trying to absorb the information he’d learned once he’d found out about Tommy Ryan and his missing grandson.

It was far too much for him to take in and accept right now. It was coming too fast, without enough time for him to absorb it or put into perspective.

Maybe coming here had been a mistake, he thought, staring at Hannah. Maybe he hadn’t really been ready for what he might learn or have to face.

And he was certain he hadn’t been prepared for her, nor for the gut-level male reaction he was having to her.

Just another emotion to add to the confusing mix.

He shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, not certain of much at the moment, but certain of this if nothing else. “I don’t remember anything about them.”

“Them?” One eyebrow rose and Hannah watched him carefully, not certain what it was in his eyes. Wariness, of course, a hint of fear, and something else she couldn’t read. It sent a chill through her. “You don’t remember your grandfather, Tommy, or your brothers, Jake, Jared or Josh?”

He shook his head, then blew out a breath. “Hannah, the only family I ever had was my mother, Grace, and she passed away going on three months back now.”

Hannah couldn’t help it, her temper flared, fueled by fear and frustration. “Jesse, I don’t know who this Grace person was, but your family is the Ryans.
You’re a Ryan,
” she insisted, temper in her words. Unconsciously, her hands fisted in his shirt as she struggled to contain the floodgate of emotions his words had opened.

Tommy Ryan had spent twenty years praying—waiting—for the day when Jesse would be found, would come home. How would he handle knowing Jesse didn’t even remember him?

Or worse, far worse, wouldn’t
accept
him?

She loved and adored her godfather. He was the finest man she’d ever met, the kind of man she’d always wished had been her father. She wouldn’t want anything or anyone—not even his youngest, beloved grandson—to hurt him.

A strong streak of protectiveness rose in Hannah and she wanted to shake Jesse, shake him until he realized what his lack of acceptance of Tommy might do to the man. And to the entire Ryan family, who had spent twenty years grieving for him, searching for him, loving him.

She knew firsthand how the rejection of your family—for any reason—hurt, cutting a path through your heart that never truly healed. She knew because she’d lived with it for as long as she could remember, even before her daughter’s birth.

She wanted to protect Tommy and all the Ryans from ever feeling such heartache and despair.

“No,” Jesse countered quietly but just as firmly. “I’m a
Garland.
Jesse
Garland,
” he emphasized. “My family was Grace Garland, and she’s gone.”

Hannah forced herself to take a slow, deep breath because emotion had her words and voice shaking. “Your mother’s name was Janice and your father’s name was Jock. Your parents were killed in a plane crash almost fifteen years ago.”

He merely stared at her, realizing her words meant nothing. He shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anyone named Janice or Jock.” He shrugged again at the look on her face. “Sorry.”

“Jesse,” she said, trying again. “Your father, Jock, was your grandfather Tommy’s only son, his only child.” The strength of her words surprised her. She hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted him to remember his life and family here. Or how desperately she wanted things to be the way they once were. Not for her sake, but for Tommy’s. “You don’t remember Tommy, your parents or your brothers or anything else?” she asked, thoroughly frustrated.

He shook his head, still studying his surroundings because looking at her made him feel things he wasn’t certain he understood. Male feelings, feelings that had nothing to do with who he was or who she was. Feelings that were purely male responding to female.

And there were far too many emotions swirling around inside his mind, his heart, to add any more to the mix. Emotional overload his mother would have called it.

He glanced at Hannah again. She was the most incredibly beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. But she was someone from his past, someone from Jesse Ryan’s life.

Not his.

He was Jesse Garland.

Jesse Ryan wasn’t someone he knew or understood, nor was he certain he wanted to know or understand who he’d been. Nor did he like the emotions that this woman aroused in him. They were far too strong and just as frightening. But he couldn’t deny there was some kind of emotional connection, something that seemed to be drawing him closer to her, wanting to be closer to her.

And it scared the hell out of him.

He knew he couldn’t allow his emotions free rein. He was here for one reason and one reason only: to honor his late mother’s wishes.

Jesse Garland was who he knew. He understood Jesse Garland, knew his history, his past, knew everything about him. Jesse Garland was who he was comfortable with, and that wasn’t about to change now, not because of a few remembered memories.

Or a childhood friend.

He’d do well to remember that.

Besides, he wasn’t here for the long haul. A short visit and he was on his way back home. The thought helped to soothe some of his emotional turmoil.

“I’m thirsty, Mama.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Real thirsty. And you said we could have some ice cream before we went to Uncle Tommy’s.” Riley bent and scratched a mosquito bite on her knee.

At Jesse’s surprised look, Hannah felt the need to explain. “I work for Tommy. As his cook,” she clarified, lifting her hands out of her shorts pockets to wipe them on the jean material. She hadn’t realized how nervous she was until now. “Mrs. Taylor, Tommy’s cook, finally retired, and he offered me the job. So I took it,” she added with a shrug. If she expected some hint of recognition at the mention of Mrs. Taylor, she was disappointed. Jesse gave no reaction.

“Well, I guess I’d better get going then,” Jesse said with a slow, lazy smile that sent her pulse scrambling. As much as he’d dreaded the actual meeting with Tommy Ryan, meeting Hannah had stirred him up just as much and he felt the need to leave, to take some time to put things in perspective. “I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Wait, Jesse.” Hannah touched his arm before turning to her daughter, indicating she wanted to speak to him. Alone. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go inside and get yourself some of the cookies Mama baked this morning?”

“Can I have three?” Riley asked, holding up three fingers and making Jesse smile.

“Yes, honey, but only three. Remember, we’re going to take them over to Uncle Tommy’s with us, and besides, I don’t want you to ruin your dinner.” She gave her daughter’s backside an affectionate pat. “Go on now, I’ll put your bike away for you.”

“Thanks, Mama.” Riley lifted her face to Jesse’s and gifted him with a brilliant smile. “Bye, Uncle Jesse.” She waved several fingers at him. He waved back.

“Bye, Miss Riley,” he said with a smile. “It sure was a pleasure meeting you.”

She giggled again, then skipped off toward the back porch. Hannah waited until the door shut behind Riley before turning to Jesse.

“She’s a beautiful little girl,” Jesse said, surprising her. “Her daddy must be real proud of her.”

Hannah stiffened. “Riley doesn’t have a daddy. She has me, and I’m all she needs.”

Well now, Jesse thought, glancing at Hannah curiously. There was more than a little resentment laced through those words, he thought. It was curious. What kind of man walked away from a beautiful child like that? he wondered. Certainly no man he’d ever known. Or wanted to know.

“Jesse, please, listen to me.” Unconsciously, Hannah wrung her hands together to gather her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was to get into a discussion of her personal life—or, rather, lack of it. Or her marital status or lack of it. Or Riley’s parental situation—or lack of it, realizing that in spite of the years that had passed she still felt a bit of shame at having been so young, so stupid and so very duped. Her personal life was not the point. Right now she wanted—needed—to talk to him about Tommy.

“Jesse, look, I can understand how difficult this must be for you—” His chuckle caught her by surprise and she glanced up at him. “What? What’s so funny?” Annoyance tinged her tone and he slowly shook his head again.

“Trust me, darlin’, there is no way anyone could have a clue how difficult all this is. You grow up believing you’re one person, and then one day you’re supposed to accept that you’re another person, with a whole different family history…” His voice trailed off. “And you think you know how difficult this is? There’s no way anyone could understand what I’m feeling because, to tell you the truth, darlin’, I sure as hell don’t understand it myself.”

The impact of his words had Hannah rethinking what she was going to say. “Jesse, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s just, Tommy has spent twenty years looking for you, grieving for you, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

Jesse nodded. “I understand that, Hannah, and I’m not here to hurt the man. Truly.” He shrugged. “But you’ve got to understand, it wasn’t me he was grieving for, it was the boy who was his grandson, a little boy named Jesse who disappeared twenty years ago. And from the moment he disappeared, that boy was gone. He became someone else. Grew up to be someone else. That someone else is me, Hannah, Jesse Garland. Try as I might, I can’t change the past nor can I change who and what I am.”

“Jesse, please, just promise me you won’t hurt him.” The pleading in her eyes tugged at something deep inside Jesse and made him reach out and gently lay his hand against her cheek.

“Darlin’, I wish I could promise that, I truly do,” he said quietly, his gaze firmly on hers. “But I’m not a man who makes a promise he isn’t certain he can keep.”

Her eyes flashed like the fires of hell and her fists balled at her hips. “Jesse, I’m warning you, watch your step. I’ll not stand by and watch you deliberately hurt Tommy.” She took another step closer, her eyes gleaming with intensity. “I mean it.”

He merely stared at her, surprised by the depth of her fierceness, the loyalty and love he saw shimmering off her in waves. He admired a woman who knew the value of loyalty and honesty, as well as a woman who could love that deeply, freely, intensely.

Unconsciously, he glanced at her hands, saw they were ringless and wondered about Riley’s father. Again. This was a woman who wouldn’t take love, loyalty or honesty lightly. For some reason he found it warmed something within his scarred heart.

After his mother’s deception, he’d feared that all women were dishonest about love, loyalty and family. Hell, if he hadn’t been able to trust his own mother, how could he ever trust any other woman?

Maybe this woman was a woman worth trusting.

It was a shame he wasn’t going to be around long enough to find out.

“Well then, Hannah,” he said softly, never taking his gaze off hers as he settled his Stetson more comfortably on his head. “I guess I’ll consider myself properly warned.”

T
ommy Ryan was nervous.

He hadn’t paced this much since the impending birth of his last great-grandchild, but then again, he thought as he paused on the front porch and cocked his head to see if he’d heard a car, it wasn’t every day a man was reunited with a grandson missing for twenty years.

With a sigh of impatience, Tommy shook his head as he continued to pace the long front porch of the main ranch house he’d built nearly fifty years ago. He’d waited twenty years for this day; he supposed he could wait a bit longer. But it was hard, he realized with a self-indulgent chuckle. Very hard. He felt like one of the little lads waiting for Christmas morning to come.

Lifting his head, he glanced around at all that was his and he couldn’t help but smile, a smile of pride and accomplishment.

He’d arrived in this country from Ireland with little more than the clothes on his back and a fierce determination to build something of his own. An empire, of course, but more importantly, a family.

A man’s wealth and his true worth would always be his family, he thought, glancing at the empty road again and resisting the urge to sigh impatiently.

He’d accomplished everything he’d ever dreamed of, needed. He had more wealth than any man had a want for, and more possessions than any one man could crave, but through it all, he’d lost one of the most important parts of his life: his youngest grandson, Jesse.

Cursing his bad hip, Tommy leaned on his wood-carved cane as he lowered himself into one of the rockers his grandson Jared had carved with his own hands for his wife to rock their babes.

In spite of a bad hip, at eighty, Tommy still had the large, powerful build of the boxer he had once been, a build that had intimidated more than its fair share of stout men over the years.

Age and infirmity had not stooped his frame, but merely slowly his gait. His hair, which had been a thick mane of coal in his youth, was now a thick shock of white framing his face like an elegant halo. His skin was a rich, deep tan, lined with the experience and memories of his long life.

His mouth was full and firm and more often than not curved into a grin, as if he had a secret he wasn’t quite ready to share with the world yet. His blue eyes, the color of the deepest sapphires, still twinkled with mischief most of the time, giving him the appearance of a slightly oversize leprechaun.

There was an air of power and authority radiating from him, the kind that only very successful men possess.

He was a man who’d been blessed with more luck than any man deserved, more money then he could ever hope to spend and a family he adored more than life itself.

But interspersed in the joys of his life had been sorrow. A deep, aching sorrow that no amount of joy could erase.

But today, finally, the ache in his heart would heal, and he and his beloved grandson would be reunited. He’d sent everyone else off for the day, wanting some time alone with the lad, and hoping to ease the way for Jesse so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

“You’re finally coming home, lad,” Tommy whispered to himself, vowing not to let free the tears he’d held so long in his heart. “I’ve waited so long for this day, my boy, so long. It’s a dream come true.” Sniffling, Tommy pulled a large pressed handkerchief from his pocket—just in case—and dabbed briskly at his nose. “You’ll not be dripping tears like a spoiled babe in front of the lad, Tommy boy,” he scolded himself. “’Tis a day for laughter not tears. Aye, it’s a day for the angels to sing and to rejoice.” Tommy paused a moment to wipe his eyes, which were damp with memories and emotion.

Oh how he wished his only son, Jock, was still alive to see this day. To know that his youngest had finally come home. Jock had died without ever knowing the fate of his youngest son. It was a heartache Jock had never gotten over, and a heartache Tommy had been forced to live with; a pain that had never eased.

Tommy glanced heavenward. The sky was a clear crystal-blue, and he was fairly certain if he stared long and hard enough, he might be able to see the angels rejoicing. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Aye, Jock, my boy, you can finally rest easy now,” he whispered to the heavens. “I told you I’d not rest nor meet my maker until I found the lad.” Tommy thumped his cane and nodded his head. “Aye, your Da never made a promise he couldn’t keep. A wise man doesn’t. It took me a good long time, but I’ve kept my promise to you, Jock, and to myself.” Tommy had to pause to swipe at his eyes again. “Our boy Jesse, we’ve found him, Jock. He’s coming home.”

The sound of a car coming down the hill had Tommy leaning on his cane to stand and stare. His heart began to thud loudly and he found it difficult to take a breath. Shading his eyes with his hand, Tommy’s heart did a slow drumbeat as he watched a large black truck approach, and finally pull slowly into the long winding driveway. With the sun in his eyes, he couldn’t really see the driver.

Until he got out.

Then everything inside Tommy Ryan seemed to still as he looked at one of his own.

He stood immobilized on the front porch, clutching his cane with one strong hand, then laid his other hand to his heart as he watched the young man step slowly, hesitantly, out of the truck.

There was no mistaking this lad. He had his father’s great height, and was clearly the tallest of all four of Jock’s sons. He possessed Tommy’s own twinkling blue eyes, eyes the same color as the Irish Sea shortly after a storm. But most importantly, he had his brothers’ features. All of his brothers, mixed together in a face that was undeniably a Ryan.

The young man started walking up the driveway, then paused. “Tommy Ryan?” The voice was deep, husky with suppressed emotion and still familiar to Tommy, in spite of the Texas twang and seemed to reverberate in the air between them, closing the distance. The young lad’s voice had the same deep resonance of his brothers’. Tommy wanted to kick up his heels in glee.

“My God,” Tommy whispered, pressing his hand tighter against his chest, as if to ease the ache in his heart. “Jesse. ’Tis you.” It could have been a hundred years since he’d last seen the lad, but he’d recognize him anywhere; it was like recognizing his own soul. His own kin.

Joy bubbled within him like champagne and Tommy fervently wished for a good hip, for he’d have done an Irish jig right there on the front porch, a jig to make the Ryan clan proud.

It
was
Jesse;
his
Jesse.

Standing on Ryan land once again.

As it should be; as it was meant to be.

“Aye, Jock,” Tommy whispered with a smile and a slow shake of his head as he glanced heavenward for a brief moment. “He’s come home.”

With a silent, heartfelt prayer of thanks, Tommy let his breath out slowly, and with it all the fear, loneliness, guilt and pain he’d held inside for twenty long years.

Then the tears he’d banished came, unbidden, as if flushing away the lonely years and the unbearable fears, and Tommy could do nothing to stop them or the memories that washed over him like a warm, welcome wave.

Tommy closed his eyes for a moment, and then he opened them to watch the young lad walk across the expansive front yard toward him. Time seemed to still, then reel backward until Tommy saw not the grownup adult version of his beloved grandson approaching him, but the little lad as he’d been the last time he’d seen him twenty years ago.

Tommy remembered he’d been coming around the front of the house from doing one chore or another late that afternoon when he’d heard the lad’s happy squeals.

“Gwanpop.” Jesse’s laughter always brought a smile as the little lad scrambled across the front lawn on chubby legs that were not quite steady, racing from one misadventure to another. “Gwanpop, save me,” he’d plead, trying to contain his bubbling laughter.

“Come here, lad,” Tommy would call, arms outstretched and a twinkle in his eye. Jesse would race to a stop, throw his chubby little arms up so his grandfather could lift him high in the air and out of harm’s way.

“They’re gonna get me.” Jesse would giggle, snuggling closer to the safety and security of his grandfather’s arms. “Save me, Gwanpop. Save me!”

They
were his older brothers, Jesse’s consorts in crime, but aye, Jesse always knew where to go for reinforcements, always knew that his grandfather would rescue him, save him, protect him.

Except for that one night when even his grandfather couldn’t save him.

Tommy’s eyes opened and he blinked away his tears, blinking himself back to the present.
Dear God, the nightmare was finally, blissfully, over.

With legs not quite steady, Tommy slowly started down the porch stairs, leaning heavily on his cane, never taking his eyes off the lad, fearing he might disappear in a puff of smoke.

Jesse watched Tommy approach, his heart pounding in a way that had nerves skimming just across his skin. He hadn’t remembered his grandfather, hadn’t remembered the ranch, his brothers, hadn’t remembered anything.

At least not consciously.

Until his gaze met Tommy’s.

The moment he’d stepped out of the rented SUV and seen Tommy Ryan standing on the porch, shadowed by the late-afternoon sun, silhouetted by the beautiful blue sky, Jesse knew in his heart—the only place it truly mattered—this
was
his grandfather.

His heart recognized him even if his mind or memory didn’t. Jesse felt another chill race over him, followed quickly by a shiver that had him clenching his fists tightly.

Something deep inside him, in that place where there had always been this mysterious ache of longing and yearning, slowly seemed to fill.

He could only remember crying once in his life, when his mother passed on, but now he felt the quick burn of tears against his eyes, dampening his lashes. Jesse had to swallow, then clear his throat to speak.

“Grandpop.”

That one precious, welcoming word had the strength and energy draining from Tommy, had him blinking in joy, leaving his heart racing, his knees shaky.

“Aye, lad, ’tis me, Grandpop.” Tommy’s legs were so shaky he feared they wouldn’t hold him up. He reached out his free hand toward Jesse, and for the first time in memory truly felt his age. His hand, gnarled now with age and arthritis, shook like a sapling in a storm.

“Jesse.” His grandson’s name came out a hoarse, broken sob as Tommy’s knees buckled and he almost went down. Strong arms reached for him in much the same way he had once reached for, rescued and protected the young lad.

“Grandpop.” Alarmed, Jesse caught his grandfather and held him in his arms. “I’m here, Grandpop. It’s okay, I’m here.” Jesse simply held his grandfather, letting his eyes close and letting the emotions he’d tried to ignore all these months roll over him in a wave of love, loss and longing.

Shaken to the core, Tommy clung to his grandson. The lad’s arms were strong and muscled, he thought proudly, letting his eyes close again. He just needed a minute, he told himself. Only a minute.

Tommy took a slow, deep breath to calm himself and the storm of memories and emotions marching wildly through him, shaking him to the core. His life in all its glory passed swiftly through his mind, and he knew in his heart of hearts this would be the crowning moment, the jewel of the joy in his wonderfully blessed life.

No man could ever want or need more.

Tilting his head back, Tommy’s eyes opened and he looked into the blue eyes of his beloved grandson, unashamed of the tears that coursed down his cheeks.

“Aye, lad, how I’ve missed you.” Tommy continued to cling to the lad’s strength, needing to actually touch Jesse, to feel him, to know he was real.
This
moment was real and not just another dream where he’d awake disappointed and heartsick. Tommy wanted to savor every single second of this and bury it in his heart forever.

“I know, Grandpop.” Jesse blinked back his own tears and held on to his grandfather tighter, not wanting to let him go just yet, feeling the enormous surge of love flowing from Tommy to him, leaving him awash in feelings so strong he wasn’t certain his own legs would hold.

Lifting his head, Jesse let his gaze absorb his surroundings. They seemed achingly familiar, yet evoked no distinct memories.

At the moment he didn’t need the actual memories. He had the feelings, and for now that was more than enough. Taking a deep breath, Jesse looked back down at his grandfather.

“Welcome home, lad,” Tommy said with a brilliant smile that shimmered through tears. “Welcome home.”

“Mama, why are you peeking out the window?” Riley asked, giving her grape Popsicle another lick, trying to catch a drip before it splattered on her top as she stood behind her mother in Tommy’s kitchen.

Startled, Hannah gave a little shriek. The wooden spoon covered with remnants of the chocolate mousse she’d been making for the celebratory dinner this evening went flying, splattering bits of gooey chocolate all over the counter, the floor and a part of the wall.

“Riley.” Whirling on her daughter, Hannah pressed a hand to her rampaging heart. “You scared the life out of me.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Riley said, taking another lick of her Popsicle. “But why were you peeking out the window?” Riley frowned. “You always said it wasn’t polite to spy on people.” Wide-eyed, Riley glanced up at her mother, intrigued. “Were you spying, Mama?” she asked, her eyes full of glee.

Hannah’s face flamed beet red and she felt a hot flush wash over her face when she realized she’d been caught red-handed by her own daughter spying on Jesse Ryan!

Good Lord, what in the world had come over her? She was certain she’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Fine example she was setting for her little girl!

Blowing out a breath, Hannah shoved a loose pin back in her topknot and tried to figure out how to answer her daughter—honestly.

“Well…yes, and no, honey,” Hannah said hesitantly, grabbing a paper towel and going down to eye level with Riley to wipe off her grape mustache. “I really wasn’t…spying. I was…watching Uncle Jesse and Uncle Tommy. But I wasn’t…spying. Definitely not spying, Riley.” She forced a weak smile. “That wouldn’t be polite, right?”