Anne McAllister - Blood Brothers

“All those things you were worried about-they seemed so important to you.”

“They don’t matter at all. The only thing that matters is being with you. I know that now. Tell me I haven’t left it too late.”

“It could never be too late,” he said fervently. “I’d have waited all my life for you to come to me, because we belong together. I knew that, but you didn’t seem to. Now I have you, I’ll never let you go.”

The final call came for his flight.

“Randall!” she cried in terror.

“Let it leave. Now I’ve found you I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’re going back to the ranch for as long as it takes for you to get a passport. When you’ve got one, we’ll go to England together, to see my grandfather.”

He bent and kissed her again, gently this time.

“Then we’re going to get married,” he said, “and live happily ever after.”

“Right. Everybody hold it right there.” Olly squinted through the camera at the sea of faces in front of the enormous Christmas tree. “You there, Charlie. Take that hat off.”

Grumbling under his breath, Charlie removed the cowboy hat. But he scowled only until he saw that Gabe had taken his off, too.

“That’s better. And you sit still, Miss Emma. We’ll get them presents opened soon enough.” Olly focused again. “Gabe, quitcher nibblin’ on your wife’s ear.”

“Just trying to make her smile,” Gabe protested innocently.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with Olly,” Freddie accused, laughing.

“Well, he wouldn’t be our Gabe if he didn’t cause some kind of ruckus,” Randall said tolerantly.

“Like you’re so well-behaved yourself.” Claire nudged her husband in the ribs. “Who was waggling his fingers behind Gabe’s head five minutes ago?”

“I was not!” Randall protested, laughing.

Gabe gave him a stern look. “You’re supposed to be the well-behaved cousin.”

“I am,” Randall said piously.

“Are not.”

“Am so.”

They looked like they’d enjoy nothing more than a wrestling match to settle the issue, so Freddie intervened. “You both have to be well-behaved now,” she said sternly.

“To set an example,” Claire agreed, “for the children.”

Not just Charlie and Emma, but the new children.

“This year’s crop,” Olly called them.

The babies. Philip Randall Cedric McBride and David Gabriel Cedric McBride, the twins born to Gabe and Freddie in early November. And James Gabriel Cedric Stanton and William Randall Cedric Stanton, the twins born to Randall and Claire just a week later.

“Four of ’em,” Earl said every chance he could get. “Who’d have believed?” His chest swelled with pride, as though he’d accomplished the feat all by himself.

Now he sat in center place, Randall and Claire, Gabe and Freddie, Charlie and Emma, Elaine and Martha all gathered around him. And on his lap, four babies.

“That’s right,” Olly said. “Now, smile.”

They smiled.

Olly squinted, he focused. He lowered the camera again. “Earl,” he said. “You’re fidgetin’.”

“I’m adjusting,” Earl corrected. “I’m afraid I’m being-dampened.” He cast a fond, albeit slightly desperate, look down at his four great-grandsons.

“Oh, dear,” Freddie said. She reached for Philip and David.

“Oh, gosh,” Claire said. She reached for James and William.

“Oh, good grief,” Olly said. “This family ain’t never goin’ to have its picture took.”

Finally, however, it did. The babies were dry again. Everyone gathered around again. They all smiled again. All except Earl who didn’t just smile but beamed, his arms full of descendants, his heart full of pride and joy.

And then the gifts were opened, the turkey was carved, the cattle were fed and finally everyone but Earl and Gabe and Randall declared it a wonderful day and trundled off to bed.

“Don’t be long,” Freddie said, lingering on the bottom step to give Gabe a kiss.

“Count on it.”

“I love you,” she told him. “This has been the best year of my life.”

“Mine, too,” he said, and knew it was the truth.

In the kitchen Claire slipped her arms around Randall and gave him a hug. “This has been the most wonderful day. I’m so glad we came back for Christmas.”

“Me, too. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He kissed her hungrily, then reluctantly stepped back. “Gabe and I are going to have a whiskey with Earl, then I’ll be up. Stay awake for me?”

He knew it was a lot to ask. James and William did their share of keeping Claire awake these days.

“Always,” Claire promised.

He went into the living room and Gabe handed him a whiskey as he settled into one of the leather armchairs in front of the fire. Gabe handed another to Earl, then sat down opposite and stretched out his legs. He sighed.

“Worn out?” Earl asked. He was smiling. He never stopped smiling these days.

“Little ragged around the edges,” Gabe admitted. “Be nice when the boys start sleepin’ through the night.”

“Amen,” Randall said. He lifted his glass to that.

“They’re a right handful,” Earl agreed. “Two handfuls.” He chuckled, pleased. “Did you see the way Philip was smiling tonight? I’m sure it was a smile. He’s old enough to start smiling. David, too. I’d swear he giggled at me. And that James has got a twinkle in his eye. Right smart laddie, our James. Goin’ to be a fine earl someday. And little William. His eyes follow me everywhere I move. I swear those are the smartest, finest grandbabies a man could have.

“You two ought to be thanking your old grandfather. Weren’t for me you’d still be slaving away on all those newspapers, Randall. All work and no play. And you’d still be a shiftless run-around eight-second cowboy, Gabriel. All play and no work. So, what do you have to say for yourselves, lads? Lads?”

He looked from one to the other. Gabe’s whiskey, untouched, sat on the coffee table. Gabe’s eyes were closed. He emitted a soft snore. A glance in Randall’s direction showed Randall doing exactly the same.

Earl sipped his whiskey and looked into the fire, and then at his grandsons. What a difference a year made. He smiled. Then he raised his glass to them both.

“To the finest pair of scoundrels a grandfather could have. Blood brothers,” he remembered fondly. Then his smile broadened and he lifted his glass once more.

“To Philip, David, James and William. And, of course, Charlie and Emma.” Couldn’t forget Charlie and Emma. “Reckon you’ll give your dads a run for their money, blood brothers-and sister-of the next generation.”

RITA Award-winning author Anne McAllister fell in love with a cowboy when she was five years old. Tall, dark, handsome lone-wolf types have appealed to her ever since. “Me, for instance,” her college professor husband says. Well, yes. But even though she’s been married to the man of her dreams for over thirty years, she still likes writing about those men of the West! And even though she may take a break from cowboy heroes now and then, she has lots more stories planned for CODE OF THE WEST. She is always happy to hear from readers, and if you’d like, you can write to Anne at P.O. Box 3904, Bozeman, Montana 59772. SASE appreciated.

met her husband-to-be in Venice, fell in love the first evening and got engaged two days later. They’re still happily married and now live in England with their three dogs. For twelve years Lucy was a writer for an English women’s magazine. She interviewed many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Sir Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud.