Free The Ranger And The Widow Woman by Stella Bagwell Page B

slipped his arms around her waist. “Hi, Mom.”
    “Charlie!”
    She whirled around and smacked kisses on both sides of his face. “Look at you! You look like death warmed over! You’re so skinny!”
    She poked her fingers at his washboard abdomen, causing a half grin to curve his lips. And Violet suddenly had her answer. For all his gruffness and sarcasm, Charlie was glad to see his mother.
    “I weigh over two hundred pounds, Mom. I can’t be skinny.”
    “Well, you look as gaunt as a racehorse to me,” she protested, then sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes.
    Charlie glanced at Violet as if to say I told you so. Violet was amazed to find a lump had collected in her own throat. To think Charlie had once been this woman’s little boy, just as Sam was hers now, touched a spot in Violet.
    “It looks like you two have already introduced yourselves,” he said to his mother.
    “Yes, we did. And I can’t believe you were lying in bed instead of keeping this beautiful young woman company.”
    His sidelong glance at Violet was mocking. “Violet doesn’t need my company,” he drawled. “She just needs her car fixed.”
    Moving down the counter, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the drip machine Violet had used earlier this morning. After a couple of careful sips, he asked his mother, “How did you know I was here?”
    “Randall spilled the beans,” she said as she flipped two perfectly browned pancakes.
    “I should have known. You’d have to put duct tape on that guy’s mouth to keep him quiet,” he muttered irritably. “I don’t know how Dad has put up with him all these years.”
    Justine’s head twisted around, and she stared at her son with dismay. “Charlie! That’s an awful thing to say. Randall has been more than a working colleague with your father all these years. He’s also been his friend. Why, if it wasn’t for Randall, Roy might not have ever learned you were his son.”
    Charlie rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The man can’t keep his mouth shut.”
    From Justine’s expression, Violet could tell the woman was disappointed, even disturbed by Charlie’s attitude. Since she didn’t know the person they were talking about, it was impossible to know who was in the right. Yet the whole thing told Violet that Charlie was obviously acting out of character and it was troubling his mother.
    “I thought you always liked Randall,” Justine said. She lifted the pancakes from the skillet and placed them on the stack she’d already cooked.
    “I do like the man,” Charlie conceded. “He just needs to keep his mouth shut.”
    Justine sighed but didn’t say anything else. Charlie glanced around the room, then settled his gaze on Violet “Where’s Sam? Still asleep?”
    She was surprised he’d noticed the absence of her son. Though he’d been kind to Sam, he hadn’t gone out of his way to pay attention to him, either.
    “He’s drinking his orange juice on the front porch,” she told him, then deciding now would be a good time to give Charlie and his mother a few moments alone, she added, “The pancakes are almost ready. I’ll go get him.”
    Once she had scurried out of the room, Charlie moved back over to the gas range where his mother was pouring the last of the batter into a black iron skillet.
    “Did Violet explain why she was here?” he asked.
    “Her car. You’ve already said as much,” Justine answered, then glanced over her shoulder at him. “Why? Is there something else?”
    Grimacing, Charlie shrugged. “Money.”
    When she didn’t make any response, he said, “Aren’t you going to groan and tell me I’m a fool?”
    His mother gave him a wry smile, and Charlie suddenly realized how much he’d missed his family and how long it had been since he’d been able to spend time and be a real part of them.
    “No. You’re a grown man. You ought to know what you’re doing by now.”
    He ought to, Charlie thought. But he didn’t. Where