Dustin looked at his feet and nodded.

Trevan looked at Emily. “See? He’ll be fine.”

Emily made a disgusted sound. “He wants to be a better student. He wants a kitten.”

“A kitten,” Trevan said, horrified. “Why?”

“Because he’s eight,” Emily said. “And if you won’t stop this madness, then I will. I’m withdrawing my permission for him to play ball.”

Dustin looked up at his mom, his expression both shocked and hopeful. She hugged him again. “It’s over,” she said. “I promise you.”

Trevan swore in disgust, turned on his heel, and strode off.

Kate let out a breath and glanced at her dad, who was still hugging Tommy close. At the sight her throat tightened and her eyes burned with tears. She’d never been so thankful for him, imperfections and all.

With the drama over, people were heading back to their cars. She watched as Griffin turned and looked at his own father. Was he as moved by all that had transpired as she’d been?

Griffin stilled then frowned. “Dad?”

Donald’s complexion was seriously off-color, and even as the thought registered in Kate’s mind, Donald staggered back, bumping into Adam and Holly.

“Dad,” Grif said more loudly, and ran toward him, getting there in time to catch the older Reid as he collapsed.

Twenty-seven

Grif got to the hospital just behind the ambulance and experienced a terrible déjà vu as he strode inside.

Only a few months ago he’d been in a different hospital on the other side of the world. Alone. At the time, he’d told himself it was for the best. He hadn’t wanted anyone pacing the ER wondering if he was going to live or die.

Now he was on the other side of the fence, surrounded by the people who’d meant the most to him for much of his life.

Holly and Adam sat a short distance away. Adam had an arm around Holly, his mouth pressed to her temple, whispering something that had her nodding, meeting his eyes with gratitude and love.

There were lots of others nearby as well, including much of the ranch staff. And Deanna. She was a mess, sobbing all over her sister, and on Grif, too, when he tried to console her.

“He’s going to be okay,” he said.

She clung to him, her head on his shoulder. “I know.”

“He’s too ornery to die.”

Now she both cried and laughed. “I know that, too. Grif . . .” She pulled back, her mascara smeared, her eyes filled with genuine grief. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, knowing that’s what she wanted to hear. Because he had no idea what he knew.

Kate was there, too. She’d set aside whatever she thought of him and had insisted on coming with him to the hospital. She brought him a bottle of water and sat next to him quietly, not expecting him to talk.

So he had no idea why he did. “The last things I said to him,” he started, remembering their fight in the office. Christ. He was such an asshole. He shook his head, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

Kate’s hand closed over his. “He’s got quite a way with words himself,” she said quietly but with irony thick in her voice. “I’m sure he gave as good as he got.” She squeezed his hand, and he met her gaze.

She didn’t smile, offer any empty platitudes, or even try to keep his attention. She simply sat at his side and gave him all the strength she had to share. Grateful, knowing he wasn’t worthy of that strength, he closed his eyes and leaned back to wait, incredibly aware of their entwined fingers.

He then spent the longest three hours of his life waiting for a report, and when it came, it wasn’t surprising.

His dad had indeed suffered a second heart attack, and though the general consensus was that it was another mild one, it wasn’t good news. When he was finally cleared for visitors, they were told only two at a time. Grif let Holly and Adam go first. Now that Grif knew Donald was out of the woods, he wasn’t in all that big of a hurry to piss him off and maybe make things worse.

A little while later, Holly and Adam came back out. Holly pulled Grif to his feet, and holding his hands, she looked up at him. Her eyes were red but she smiled. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Good.”

“He’s asking for you.”

Grif gave a slow shake of his head. “Not a good idea, Hol.”

“It’s the best idea.” Going up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “You’re family, Grif,” she whispered against his jaw. “You always have been; you always will be. For better or worse.” She kissed him again. “He’s asking for you,” she repeated softly.

Grif was halfway down the hall to ICU before he realized he was still gripping Kate’s hand tightly and that she was practically running at his side to keep up with his long-legged stride.

He slowed his steps and tried to let go of her hand.

She held tight.

She gave him a small but genuine smile, and he realized it was him holding on to her.

They entered his father’s hospital room. Donald opened his eyes and managed a charming smile for Kate, who bent over him and kissed his cheek. “Gave us a scare,” she said lightly.

“Ah, you should know better,” Donald murmured, voice raspy. “I’m far too handsome to die.”

“You mean ornery, don’t you?” she teased.

He winked at her. “You know it.” He squeezed her fingers. “Darlin’, would you mind giving me and the boy a minute?”

“Not at all.” Kate hugged him then hugged Grif as well.

Grif almost didn’t let go. When she was gone, he walked to the side of the bed. The last words he and Donald had spoken to each other bounced around in his head uncomfortably. At the time he’d thought if he never had to speak another word to this stubborn old coot again, it would be too soon. Now there was too much to say, and he didn’t know where to start.

A nurse popped her head in. “Only a few minutes,” she said sternly. “He needs rest.”

Grif nodded.

“Keep him calm. No riling him up.”

Grif nodded again, but he’d have better luck walking to the moon. If he so much as breathed, he riled the man up. Bracing himself, he sat in the chair by the bed. “You in any pain?”

“Yes. But not in the way you think.” Donald shifted around and swore.

Grif stood again, leaning over him to hold him still. “Don’t move. You’re not supposed to move.”

“Dad,” Donald snapped. “Would it kill you to still call me dad?”

Grif stilled.

“And sit for crissake. If you’re going to hover over me like a grandma, then just get the hell out now.”

Grif lowered himself back to the chair. “I see all that go-go juice is making you sweet and affable,” he said, nodding to the multiple IVs.

Donald actually smiled at that. “There you are. My cynical, sarcastic son. Was worried you’d already left.”

Grif bent forward, planted his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his temples.

“Headache?” Donald asked.

“If I say yes, will you lie back and relax before your nurse guts me?”

“In a minute,” Donald said, and his voice changed, going very serious, “Nurse Ratchet’s going to come back and drug me again so listen carefully because I’m not going to be able to repeat myself.” He drew in a deep breath and paused.

Grif braced himself, having no idea what he expected to hear. Get the hell out of Dodge, maybe?

“When I met your mom,” Donald said, “she was just pregnant.”

“You told me that already.”

“She put my name on your birth certificate.”

“Yes, I’ve seen it.”

“Jesus, I said listen, not talk.” Donald sighed. “I loved her. I loved her more than anything or anyone since.”

“You two fought all the time.”

“She hated Idaho,” Donald admitted. “She went back to New York, and after that we got along again.”

“From two thousand miles away.”

“It worked for us,” Donald said. “I kept her secret. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He paused. “Or for as long as this heart will beat,” he added dryly, meeting Grif’s gaze. “I did it for her, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you as my own. I did. Even when you were a punk-ass. And I should get extra credit for that, by the way. Because you were a punk-ass. You really were one hard fucker to love.”

Grif dropped his head between his shoulder blades and let out a low laugh. It was true. He was a hard fucker to love.

“Anyway,” Donald went on. “If all you want to remember is me not telling you a secret I’d promised to hold, then the hell with you. I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter; it didn’t change anything. We are father and son.” His eyes were sharp and penetrating. “You get me?”

Grif nodded. “I get you.”

Donald held his gaze for a long beat and then gave one short nod. “There’s more.”

Grif braced himself.

“Whoever you’re biological dad was, he knocked your mom up and left her. That’s on him, not you. And you’re not just his. You’re a product of environment, which means you have the mountains in your blood. The ranch in your blood. And me. Goddammit, you have me.”

Grif couldn’t have spoken to save his life, he was that shocked. And moved.

And when Donald reached out, Grif grasped his father’s hand tightly.

“You were never my dirty secret,” Donald said in that same voice that had flayed Grif alive more times than he could count. “And if you felt like you were, well, that’s on me. I thought of you as mine. And that’s the biggest reason I kept the secret. The angry, pissed-off teenage Grif couldn’t have handled the truth. He’d have left and never come back.”

Grif absolutely knew that to be true. He squeezed his dad’s fingers and then leaned over him again, this time for a hug.

* * *

The last week of school flew by so much faster than Kate could have imagined. It was a blur of packing, end-of-year celebrations, and family time.

No Griffin time though.

He hadn’t left ASAP as planned, instead staying until his dad was out of the hospital and well on his way to a full recovery. She hadn’t actively avoided him, but their paths hadn’t crossed. And she couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t actively sought her out either.

Clearly there was nothing to say.

She’d made the big decision to go to UCSD immediately. She’d gotten an off-campus studio apartment and was going to take a full summer course load to get a jump start on her curriculum. She was starting next week.

Once she’d made the decision to go, she was ready. No looking back. Looking back made her heart hurt. She’d miss her family and friends, but she’d see them. They’d come to visit, and she would do the same. It was going to be good for all of them, and she’d be back. That wasn’t what hurt.

No, what hurt was knowing that she’d gambled on Griffin.

And lost.

* * *

Grif and Adam sat on their respective ATVs at the top of the ridge, staring down at the valley below. It was just past the ass crack of dawn and steam was rising from the rocky land as the sun slanted over the peaks.

“Going to miss any of it?” Adam asked.

Like a limb. “Maybe.”

Adam gave a small smile. “Liar.”

Grif shrugged. “It’s the way it is.”

“It didn’t have to go this way.”

“Got to have work,” Grif said.

“Could have found work less than two thousand miles away.”

This wasn’t anything Grif hadn’t said to himself a million times over the past week. “I’m not going to be all that far.”

“Would you be going if Kate wasn’t?”

Grif hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do,” Adam said.

Yeah, he did.

“Look,” Adam said. “I’m the guy no one expected to find happiness with a woman. But I did.”

“So what are you saying?”

“That if I can, anyone can,” Adam said.

Grif slid him a look. “You needed a woman to be happy?”

“Don’t piss me off,” Adam said mildly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Yeah, he did. From the moment he’d first seen Kate again the weekend of Adam and Holly’s wedding, he’d been on a crazy ride. At first he’d actually been cocky enough to think Kate couldn’t possibly give him anything other than a good time.

But she’d given him a hell of a lot more than that. For whatever reason, she’d seen something in him that she’d wanted, and she’d gone for it. She’d believed in him. She’d given him so damn much. She’d given him all of herself, every corner of her heart and soul.

He’d taken both, without giving a thing in return. And then, when the going had gotten tough, he’d tossed it all aside. He’d change that if he could, but he had no right to her now. None. “I’m not going to be the guy to hold her back.”

“So don’t.”

Grif thought about that and realized Adam was right. When Grif had come for the wedding, it had been with wariness and no expectations. Things had been black and white. He’d been hurt. He’d just gotten out of the military for the first time in his adult life. Neither of those things had been by choice.

But coming back here had been a choice. His first in a string of good choices, he knew now. His second good choice had been Kate.