by Lauren Canan
“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was firm and unwavering, but her heart pounded and her stomach tied itself into knots.
“It’s nothing personal, Ms. Hardin.” He tipped his head to one side as his eyes roamed over her face. “It’s just business.”
“Oh, really?” she challenged. “That’s what you call it? Destroying a person’s life is ‘just business?’” She shook her head in amazement. “You must think you’ll make a small fortune on this deal.”
“That’s always a possibility,” he admitted, shrugging his broad shoulders.
“I’m curious. What’s it going to be? A dude ranch for your city friends or cheap housing that will fall apart in ten years?”
“I don’t think Alec’s future plans for the land need discussion at this—”
“It’s good land in a prime location,” Alec answered her, interrupting his attorney. “And the time for its development has come.” His eyes never left her face, his tone hard and unemotional.
She couldn’t help but speculate if they would have been having this meeting if her dad were still alive. But common sense told her Morreston wanted the land and would have found other reasons to decline the renewal. This little “personal clause” was convenient and tailor-made to suit his purposes.
“You could omit the clause and renew the lease.”
“I could,” he admitted openly. “But I won’t.”
Silently she studied the hard, chiseled features of his face.
“Then there is no more to say, is there?” Standing, she gathered her papers and slipped them into the manila folder. She wouldn’t grovel before any man, especially some arrogant stranger from New York, particularly when she knew it would do no good. Her hands were trembling due to shock, but she refused to let these contemptuous strangers see any weakness.
“Ben.” She pressed her lips together to cover the trembling. “I assume you’ll be in touch about what needs to be done?”
On seeing his nod, she gave a tight smile and walked out of the room. Somehow, she cleared the outside door without slamming it. Only when she reached the sidewalk did her vision blur with unshed tears of anger and frustration. Seven months ago, she’d buried her father. And now, in the space of less than an hour, she’d learned she was losing her home.
She swallowed back the overwhelming sense of panic. The ranch was her haven, her security. It was her past as well as her future. Her father had entrusted it to her care and she’d promised him in his final moments that his efforts—and the efforts of all the Hardins before them—would not be in vain.
She was the last, the only one remaining, who could carry the Hardin legacy into tomorrow. Two hundred years of struggle and sacrifice, of unwavering strength, bravery and determination by her forefathers to fashion a better life from this small piece of earth, and now, the future rested squarely on her shoulders. The weight of it was staggering.
Slipping behind the wheel of her old Chevy pickup, Shea tried recalling elements of the discussion. Even though Ben had conducted the meeting, she knew Alec Morreston had carefully orchestrated and controlled the entire presentation. Right down to her walking out of the room. The deliberate downplay of some factors of the contract, the strong focus on others. He was good. She had to give him that.
But there was one thing she’d bet Morreston hadn’t taken into account. Her father had always said she was an obstinate, hardheaded female who never knew when to admit defeat. She had no intention of admitting failure so easily and giving in to that arrogant, money-grubbing son-of-a-bitch.
Maybe she would lose her home. But maybe she wouldn’t.
Ben had said she must be married before the contract expired. He hadn’t said she must be married to Alec Morreston, as his attorney had implied. Somewhere out there was a man who would agree to marry her for one year as a strictly business arrangement. She was going to find him.
She squared her shoulders with renewed conviction and started the truck. There was a lot to do and a very short time in which to do it.
* * *
Alec and Thomas gathered their respective documents and prepared to leave Ben Rucker’s office. Ms. Hardin’s abrupt exit from the meeting, while anticipated, had ended any further need for discussion.
Alec had to admit, he was impressed with Shea Hardin. She was not at all what he’d expected. In her midtwenties, she presented herself as having the maturity of someone much older. Even though this must have been devastating to her, she hadn’t shouted or cried or otherwise made a scene as so many others in her position might have done. She’d been upset, but that was understandable. Her parting words, quietly spoken to her attorney just before she’d left the room, indicated acceptance of the situation and what was to come.
But had she really given up? His success in business was due in large part to following his gut instincts. Rarely in his thirty-six years had those instincts let him down. Right now they were screaming that Shea Hardin had done anything but admit defeat.
From the top of the silky blond hair that fell in tousled disarray around her head to the tight jeans hugging her slim waist, then molding her sexy, feminine curves and long, slender legs, she was trouble with a capital T. If you added the delicate, almost angelic features of her face and the wide-eyed innocence of those amazing blue eyes, you had the makings of one hell of a problem. Shea Hardin would have no difficulty finding and persuading some spineless, misguided male to marry her for a year. She had five days to do it. And if she succeeded, he could kiss this project goodbye.
Alec regretted it had to be this way: that this young woman had to be forced out of her home. He’d experienced an uncomfortable twinge of regret even before her attorney had informed her of the hopelessness of her situation.
With a grimace, he tossed the last manila folder into his briefcase and closed it. Regret hadn’t been the only thing he’d felt. He couldn’t remember his libido ever reacting with the speed and intensity it had to Shea Hardin. A flash of insight told him sex with her would be hot and intense, mind-blowing in its fervor. Illogical anger flared at the idea of her marrying another man, lying in his bed. He shook his head to dispel the irrational notion. Under the circumstances, he’d be the last person on earth she’d ever let come near her.
As he snapped the locks on his briefcase closed, the idea ran through his mind that he should find her, apologize for this seizure of the land and...what?
He wasn’t backing away from this venture. He couldn’t. Too much time and money already had been invested. So, what good would it do to apologize? She would soon be out of a home, and no apology would change that fact.
As they walked out of the building and toward the parking lot, Alec couldn’t shake the idea that he shouldn’t be leaving just yet. And if he was honest, he didn’t know if it was concern about the land issue or a ridiculously illogical reluctance to walk away from Shea Hardin.
“Thomas,” he said as they reached the car, “drop me off at the local car-rental agency, then drive back into Dallas, to Dallas-Fort Worth International, and go on to Boston. Meet with Rolston in the morning and finalize the plans for construction of his new hotel. You know what we need. Get the contracts signed, and I’ll see you back in New York in a couple of days.”
“You’re staying here?” Thomas’s brows rose in surprise. “You really think that’s necessary?”
“Yeah. I have a feeling Ms. Hardin is not going to give in this easily.”
“Well, keep me posted.” Thomas opened the car door and tossed his suit coat inside. “Alec, don’t start feeling bad about this woman’s situation. You’ve offered her a lot of money that you didn’t have to and you’ve given her virtually all the time she needs to relocate. Hell, it’s your land.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” Alec nodded his head. “We’re on the same page. I should be here only a couple of days. I’ll call toni
ght and check on Scotty. Mom had the zoo scheduled for today. I have a feeling by now she should be about ready to go home.”
“Your mother is keeping your son?”
Alec nodded. “Ms. Bishop quit. And after just two weeks, her replacement was already looking a bit frazzled.” Alec shrugged. “Mother offered to come and stay with him. I flew her in from St. Petersburg just before we left to come here.”
Thomas chuckled. “That boy is four going on twenty-four.”
Alec smiled. “Don’t I know it.”
After arranging for a car, Alec eased the large sedan into the lane of traffic heading north. He should be on his way to Boston or back to New York. Instead, he was stuck in a rural north Texas town full of coyotes and cowboys, boots and brawls, dirt roads and bumper stickers proclaiming the South would rise again. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t want to be here. But he had to protect his right to this land. If it hadn’t been mentioned in the reading of his grandfather’s will, he wouldn’t have known of its existence. Now that he knew, he wasn’t about to let it slip through his hands.
The logical thing to do was to bring in a couple of his staff to keep an eye on things. But before the idea could begin to formulate, Shea Hardin’s face drifted into his mind, and he squelched the plan before it had a chance to develop.
* * *
“Thanks for coming over, Leona.” Shea pushed the screen door farther open, welcoming her neighbor onto the wide enclosed porch at the rear of the house. “I really do need your help.”
Three days had passed since the meeting in Ben’s office and Shea still hadn’t come up with a solid plan to save the ranch.
“Are you all right?” Leona squinted and gave Shea a cursory inspection. “You sounded terrible on the phone. Kinda scared me. I was afraid you’d gotten kicked by that damn stallion again.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at the older woman. “At least physically. Come on in and I’ll fix us both a glass of tea.”
Leona Finch was the closest thing to a mother figure Shea had since her own mom died when she was five. Shea loved Leona dearly. In her midsixties, the sun-browned features of her face bore the wrinkles of a lifetime spent on a working ranch. Her speech was as rough as her skin. But she was sensitive, perceptive and in spite of her limited education, profoundly wise.
“So, if you’re not hurt, what’s the deal?” Leona walked into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and sat down at the table as Shea filled two glasses with ice.
She poured the freshly brewed tea and added a sprig of mint. Setting the glasses on the table, she took a seat across from Leona.
“I’ve...I’ve got a problem,” she began. “A big one.”
“Well, hell.” Leona took a sip of the tea and sat back in the chair. “There ain’t a problem that can’t be fixed. You tell me what’s got you so upset, and then we’ll figure out how to put it right.”
Shea gave her friend a strained smile. She was glad to have Leona on her side. She needed to hear a few of her unceasingly positive assurances that things would work out.
“I’m not sure exactly where to begin. Three days ago I was called to a meeting in Ben’s office. It’s so bizarre...” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. Shea looked into her friend’s face.
“It seems I’ve got to find a husband,” she told Leona straight out. “And I have less than two days left to do it.”
Two
“You’ve got to do what?” Leona leaned forward and Shea saw her eyes narrow as she searched for any sign of a joke.
Shea took a steadying sip of tea. “If I don’t get married by the last day of this month, I’ll lose the ranch.”
“Says who?” Leona’s tone was guarded.
Shea recounted the highlights of the meeting in Ben Rucker’s office three days earlier. She still had a hard time believing it herself.
“I have no intention of just walking away from everything I love and everything Dad worked so hard to accomplish.” Her finger made circles in the condensation forming on the frosted glass. “I’ve spent the last three days on the phone trying to track down some of my friends from college. The ones I did manage to locate are married or involved with someone. Between the years I was away at school and then Dad’s illness, I’ve lost touch with most of the people I knew in high school.”
There had been two loves in her life. The first had been a high school crush who was now married with two kids. She’d met the other, David Rollins, her second year in college. For a while, they had been inseparable and even had talked about marriage. But eventually they both had realized they wanted different things in life. David’s plans hadn’t included living on a ranch in north Texas. Shea hadn’t been able to see herself living anywhere else. She’d tried desperately to reach David, but without any luck. A few of her friends had heard he was living back East, but no one knew exactly where. Some had offered to make calls to try to reach him, but so far he hadn’t called.
She pulled a legal pad from under some Western Horsemen magazines that lay on the table. “I’ve made a list of a few possibilities, but—” she shook her head in frustration as she passed the pad to Leona “—it’s been a long time.”
Leona took the list and set it aside, her eyes locked on Shea’s face. “You’re not seriously thinking about asking some man to marry you.” It was more a statement than a question.
She shrugged. “What else can I do?”
“Do you have even the slightest idea what you’d be letting yourself in for?”
“It will be a business agreement, strictly platonic.”
“Yeah, sure it will,” Leona muttered, rubbing her hand over her face. “God Almighty. This is the damnedest situation I’ve ever heard of.”
Leona picked up the list, gave her a weary look and began to scan the names. “Tommy Hall. Are his parents John and Grace?”
“Yeah.” Shea nodded.
“He got married two weeks ago. One of our hands was his best man.” Leona picked up a pen and crossed off his name.
“Duncan Adams. Drinks,” she recalled. “A lot. You don’t need that grief. Cecil Taylor? I hear he loses more than he makes on the horses over in Bossier City. Unless you’re willing to bankroll his gambling, you can scratch him off the list.”
One by one, Leona crossed off each man until, of the fourteen names, only one remained.
“What about Tim Schultz?” Shea asked, trying not to sound desperate.
Leona looked at the last name on the list. “Maybe. Isn’t his father the preacher over at that little church east of town?” She frowned in contemplation. “I’ve never heard nothing bad about him. Kinda quiet. ’Bout your age, right?”
“Yeah,” Shea confirmed. “His family only moved to this area a few years ago, but I had some classes with him in college. He’s nice enough, I guess.”
“So, how do you plan to approach him with this little plan of yours?” Leona laid the pen and pad on the table. “You gonna just walk up to him and say, ‘Howdy. Will you marry me for a year? Oh, and by the way, it’s strictly business.’ I’d sure like to be a fly on the wall when you throw that little tidbit in his direction.”
“I’ll explain the circumstances, of course.” She hadn’t rationalized this part of the plan, but obviously it would be necessary. “I’ll have to.”
“Girl, use your head. Maybe if you talked to that Morreston fellow again—”
“No.” Sitting back in her chair, Shea crossed her arms in front of her. Alec Morreston. The mere mention of his name caused a hot blush to spread over her neck and face. The look of male want in his eyes was still vivid in her mind. She’d never experienced anything like it, but even after three days, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. And neither had she imagined his cold insensitivity to the havoc he’d caused in her life. She resolutely shook her head. “I can promise y
ou, it would do no good. He’s a developer. He lives in New York, probably in some posh penthouse. He doesn’t care about the land. He doesn’t care about anything but making more money. Probably never got his hands dirty in his life.”
“What if you turned the tables on him?” Leona asked, taking another long drink of her tea.
Shea frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, Ben told you, according to that contract, if you weren’t married by the end of the month, Morreston had to marry you or agree to renew the lease. Right?”
Shea nodded, suddenly afraid of where this was going.
“So tell him you want to marry him.”
Shea could only gape in horror.
“Put the problem back on his plate,” Leona reasoned. “Think about it. He’s a city fellow. He’s not going to agree to marry you and live on this ranch. He thinks he’s got you bluffed into doing just exactly what you’re doing—refusing to use him as a way out.”
Shea stubbornly shook her head. “No way, Leona.” The idea was beyond bizarre. “Absolutely no way.” She still had forty-eight hours.
“I sure wish your father was still alive,” Leona muttered.
“So do I, Leona,” Shea whispered as she stood and walked to the phone to call Tim Schultz. “So do I.”
* * *
Shea sipped from the glass of ice water and tried to remain calm. Tonight, before midnight, she had to be married. Tim had finally returned her call this morning. No doubt sensing the urgency in her tone, he’d agreed to meet her at Barstall’s City Diner at one o’clock. He was late.
What was she going to say? All the rehearsing in the world couldn’t prepare her for what she had to discuss with him. How would he respond? Would he laugh? Would he just walk out? Or, most important, would he agree to do it?
Before leaving yesterday, Leona once more had encouraged her to call Morreston’s bluff. But Shea had held firm in her conviction that nothing on earth would make her so desperate to even contemplate such a thing. Heaven help the poor female coerced into marriage with that man.
