Cassie wasn't any more open to getting hurt than Lucy, maybe even less so. Lucy had grown up with the McIntyres, a loving, adopted family who had given her a sense of self-worth and a confidence to find what she was good at and pursue a dream. Until Cassie was seventeen, no one had wanted to give to her, they'd only wanted to take from her and use her. She didn't trust easily. She didn't make friends easily. She certainly didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. So she understood everything Lucy was saying and realized it wasn't a rejection of her idea at all, it was just a pause for them to think and not be reckless, to think instead of getting hurt. After all, they were twins and together in this.
"You're right," she said. "We should think about it."
Lucy looked relieved. "We can talk to Zack, too, and see what he thinks. You know I trust his advice. But that's up to you."
Cassie was beginning to trust Zack, too. After all, he'd kept her secret so far. And that had to be hard, being a newlywed and wanting to share everything with Lucy. Yet he was also a doctor and knew about doctor-patient confidentiality. She had a feeling he was looking at her secret somewhat like that. Still she didn't want it to go long.
She didn't want her secret to cause a rift between Zack and Lucy. "I need to tell you something."
"Something Zack already knows?"
Cassie felt sideswiped. "Why do you think that?"
"The first time we came to visit you here, I knew the two of you shared something. When we returned to the Rising Star, I asked Zack if he was attracted to you because I misread the signals. Zack told me he wasn't attracted to you, he was attracted to me. He told me you were just talking and I knew that's all it had been. But since then, when you've come to visit us, or we've come here, I can sense something between the two of you and I think you confided in him."
Now Cassie was sure she had to tell Lucy what she'd kept from everyone except Tina and her foreman Loren all these years. "I've kept a secret all my life, Lucy. Zack figured it out. I didn't tell you because...because it makes me feel so inferior. It makes me feel humiliated sometimes."
Lucy put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "You can tell me anything, absolutely anything."
Cassie took a deep breath, then let it out. "I can't read."
Cassie didn't see the shock she expected in Lucy's eyes. She didn't see judgment or even pity which would have made Cassie run in the opposite direction. She only saw compassion as Lucy murmured, "That must be so difficult for you."
"I've learned to cope," Cassie confessed. "I think I have something called dyslexia, though I've never been diagnosed. Loren's the only one who knew for a long time. I mean, Tina did, too. And Rachel knows now. They looked it up on the computer. I mix up my letters. I see them differently on the page. That's why I cut school so much, why I got into trouble. Once Tina brought me here I didn't need to know how to read. The horses and I communicate just fine. I can ride a fence line and cut cattle and muck out stalls without reading."
"But how do you run the ranch?"
"Well, the thing is, once I hear something I usually remember it. Rachel takes care of the household necessities. Loren does all the numbers and forms on the computer. But he reads me everything. I take it in and use it when I need to." She didn't know how she would handle it without her foreman and her housekeeper.
"Oh, Cassie." Lucy wrapped her arms around her sister and Cassie didn't think she'd ever felt more loved. Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped them away. "Zack saw I didn't have any reading material around, that I had X's on the calendar so I could count the days."
"Here I thought you were just neat."
Cassie laughed.
Suddenly outside there was the sound of horses clopping into the corral and men's voices. "I guess they're back. We'd better go down and fix lunch. Rachel went into town to pick up extra supplies."
"Not for us, I hope," Lucy said. "We'll be leaving after breakfast tomorrow."
"No. Although Zack probably could eat me out of house and home. They're for guests coming next week."
"Guests?"
"Loren's nephew from Vermont, Ben, is coming with his daughter, Julie. His wife left him and his daughter over a year ago and Julie is having a hard time of it. I think she's nine. So with school out, Loren suggested they come and stay here for a few weeks. They'll be living in the guest cabin but will come up here for meals." Over the years she'd seen pictures of Ben. He had wavy black hair, green eyes and a few years ago, a smile that had made her wonder what he'd really be like if she met him in person.
"You won't mind having them around?"
"I doubt it. It won't interfere with my routine. As good as Loren has been to me, I couldn't say no to anything he wanted. I talked to Ben last week and he seems like an okay guy." Actually, his deep voice and his concern for his daughter had resonated inside her in a big way. Especially when she remembered that smile.
Shoving those thoughts aside, she went on, "He spent summers on Twin Pines with Loren when he was a kid. But he hasn't been back here in a dozen years or more. Now he's the CEO of his own carpet company. But the main thing is, he's concerned about his daughter, and I can respect that. Anything to help a little girl heal. I know what it's like."
A low growl of thunder began and Cassie crossed to the window. "Boy, that was quick. It looks like storms are rolling in."
"It's that time of year," Lucy said. She walked over to the window, stood beside Cassie and then handed her the watch. "We'll know when the time is right to do this. If you suddenly feel strongly about it, call me. If I suddenly feel strongly about it, I'll call you. Deal?"
"Deal," Cassie agreed, as she wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulders and wondered if either of them were ready to invite a new storm into their lives.
BUY: http://www.amazon.com/Cassidys-Cowboy-Search-Love-ebook/dp/B006JGXLKA/ref=sr_1_5?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1323391447&sr=1-5
Excerpt from ALWAYS HER COWBOY:
Chapter One
When Lucy McIntyre heard the roar of a motorcycle breaking the solitude of the Rising Star Ranch, she went to the kitchen window and pushed back the lace curtain with its ivy pattern. The man on the Harley brought the machine to a halt at the path to the house. She watched him climb off, hang his helmet on the handlebar, and stand with his hands jammed into the back pockets of his jeans as he studied the barn, corrals, indoor arena, and outbuildings. Then his attention turned toward the porch that wound around the house. Although she'd expected someone by the name of Zackary Burke to apply for the job of temporary hand, she'd never expected him to look like this!
He wore boots and jeans, typical attire for men living in and around Long Brush, Wyoming. But the black leather jacket and the motorcycle told her he was from another place. His midnight hair—thick, wavy and unruly—needed a trim. He stood over six feet. She could tell even from here. With his broad shoulders and slim hips, all he needed was a Stetson and a horse to make him look as if he belonged.
Lucy didn't think she moved, but the man's eyes met hers through the window. Caught, embarrassed and mesmerized by something in the man's demeanor and gaze, every question she'd prepared for their interview vanished from her head.
Without any warning, he winked, gave her half a smile and started up the walk.
Flustered and determined not to be, Lucy crossed the kitchen, willing the heat in her cheeks to subside. But when she opened the door, the man was even taller and more powerfully masculine than he'd looked twenty feet away! The curiosity and male appraisal as his blue eyes drifted from her long brown hair to her boots brought even more heat to her cheeks and a dryness to her throat.
The man extended his hand. "Zack Burke. I saw the job notice at the feed store in Long Brush and talked with Tom McIntyre about it at the day before yesterday."
Lucy shook his hand, surprised by the heat of his skin, its rough texture and the sparks that zipped up her arm. "Tom McIntyre is my father." A McIntyre by name rather than birth, it had never seemed to matter because she'd never
doubted that her adoptive parents loved her or that her older brothers accepted her. Always grateful for that love and acceptance, she knew without it, her life might have been much different.
"Is your father around?" Zack Burke asked with a lift of a black brow.
"Dad and my brother are mending fence. I'm going to talk with you a little more to see if we should hire you. This is a family-run ranch so family is involved in everything." She motioned toward the kitchen table.
Unzipping his jacket, Zack waited for Lucy to sit before he pulled out a chair at the large pine table. His knee brushed hers and he nonchalantly shifted in the high-backed chair with that half-smile back on his lips. "Your father told me how much the job pays, including room and board. He said it's temporary—until your brother gets back on his feet. But if he's out mending fence..."
"That's my older brother, Rick. You'd be standing in for my other brother, Marty. He...hasn't been himself lately. Too unreliable to depend on. With winter setting in soon, we need a reliable, all-around hand. We tend some cattle, but our main focus is our Quarter Horses. Dad's family has raised them for generations."
"If you check the references I gave your dad, you'll see I know how to ride, can cut calves, and I'm handy with a hammer."
Along with her father's estimation of the man after his phone conversation with him and inquiring about him at the boarding house in Long Brush where he'd been staying, her dad had given her Zackary Burke's references and she'd called all three of them. Zack's last temporary job had been on a ranch in southern Wyoming and the two before that on spreads in Colorado. His former employers had answered all her questions and agreed he was hard-working and dependable. But Lucy wanted to interview him herself, to rely on her own instincts for one very important reason.
"Why do you want this job, Mr. Burke?"
"Zack," he suggested with a full smile that was meant to disarm her completely. It almost did.
But she had learned her lesson about charm and appearances, and a man's definition of a woman. If this man didn't want her to stand on formality, she wouldn't, but she would get the answers she needed. "All right...Zack. Why do you want to work on the Rising Star?"
Giving a casual shrug, his gaze met hers. "When I like a place, I stop and work. Wyoming has enough wide spaces that a man can breathe, move around and not feel trapped."
Lucy felt a sudden fascination to know more about Zackary Burke and why he felt trapped. The light in his intense blue eyes had changed. The devil-may-care sparkle had disappeared and was replaced by shadows.
Knowing she was maybe probing where she shouldn't, she asked, "Why don't you stay anywhere more than a few months?"
His strongly chiseled jaw tightened. "I suspect you know how life on a ranch changes with the seasons. When the work's finished, I move on."
"But..."
"Miss McIntyre," he drawled. Again he gave her that nonchalant smile that showed her how mobile his lips could be and made her wonder how he kissed. The thought shocked her! Well, not the thought, but her having it.
"I like to travel," he continued. "Working like this, I've seen more of the United States than most people can only dream of seeing. And I like ranches—the miles of fence, the pine and larch, the bunkhouses where no one cares where you came from or where you're going."
If that was a subtle hint for her to back off with the questions, she wasn't going to take it. "Then you might not want this job, Mr. Burke."
"Zack," he reminded her.
"Zack. We don't have a bunkhouse. My older brother lives in the house up the lane, and Marty lives here. You'd have a room in this house with the family."
He pushed back his chair as if to push away from her and the whole idea. "You're kidding!"
Lucy shook her head. "No, I'm not. You'd have a room on this floor down the hall and you'd take your meals with us."
Before the man across from her could respond, the telephone rang. With an "Excuse me, I'll be right back," Lucy stood, went into the living room and picked up the phone.
After another glance at Zack, she answered, "Hello, McIntyres."
"Lucy, is that you? It's John Buckley."
"Mr. Buckley! How are you?"
"I'm fine. Do you have a minute?"
John Buckley was the family lawyer. What could he possibly want with her? "What is it?"
"I'd like you to stop in at my office. I have something I want you to see."
"I don't understand."
"The lawyer who handled your adoption died. Records were sent on to me. There's not much, but there is a picture you should look at."
"What kind of picture?"
"I think you should see it before we decide what, if anything, we want to do about it. I'd email it to you but I'd like you to see the original. When are you coming into town?"
Long Brush with its quaint shops, professional offices and small hospital was a fifteen-mile trip, and she usually combined shopping and errands when she made it. She could make time on Monday...
She hadn't thought about her origins and her adoption in a long time. All she knew about her birth-mother was that the woman had been too poor to keep her and take care of her so she'd given Lucy up for adoption as soon as she was born. That's it. Nothing about her father. No memorabilia. Nothing else. Lucy had been perfectly happy all her life in the McIntyres embrace. Did she want to tamper with that now?
But curiosity was a potent force. "I can be at your office on Monday around one. Will that suit you?"
"I'll be in my office all day. One will be fine. I look forward to seeing you."
After Lucy said good-bye and hung up, she wondered if she should tell her parents about the call. But why upset them? It might be nothing. She'd wait until after her meeting with Mr. Buckley to decide. Right now, she had another decision to make—whether or not she should hire Zackary Burke.
#
Glad for a chance to regroup, Zack watched Lucy McIntyre walk into the living room and answer the phone. Her warm brown eyes slid over him once more before she looked away and concentrated on her call. Disconcerted by his body's reaction not only to her gaze but to her mere nearness, he tried to dismiss it as a fluke. For a very long time he'd felt no desire for a woman, the same as he'd felt no inclination to go back to practicing medicine. He knew they were connected. He knew he rode across the western states to escape his thoughts as well as the past. Whenever he stayed in one place too long, all of it came rushing back.
But from the moment he'd taken Lucy McIntyre's hand, smelled lilacs—a scent he associated with long-ago and far-away dreams and white picket fences, and seen the light dusting of freckles across her nose, he'd felt the very real response of a man to a pretty woman. How could he stay when he was attracted to her? How could he stay when he knew any attraction would have no place to go? Not after Kay and what had happened to her and their baby...
Lucy came back to the kitchen, her expression pensive.
"Bad news?" he asked, then wondered why he had. For the past fifteen months he'd tried to stay uninvolved in other people's lives.
"Oh, I wasn't thinking about the call." She smiled. "Actually, I was thinking about you and whether I should hire you."
As she drew closer, the lilacs wound about him again, tempting him with more than a job on a ranch. The freshness of her smile packed the same mighty punch. So he asked gruffly, "Why would you want hired help to stay in your house?"
"That's the kind of people my parents are. But that's also why we checked your references carefully."
"How do you know I'm not an escaped convict?"
"Are you?" she asked with a challenging tilt of her head.
He felt an unexpected laugh rumble from his chest. It had been a long time since he'd really laughed. "Do you honestly think I'd tell you?"
Planting her hands on her hips, she gave him another good once-over with her warm brown eyes. "Yes."
Her certainty drew him out of his seat as much as the scent of her perfume, and he approached her
slowly. "Either you're very naive or a very good judge of character."
"Neither, Mr. Burke...Zack," she amended. "I've learned to trust my instincts, and they're telling me my family has nothing to fear from you."
Lucy was slender and tall, but he still towered over her a good five inches. Yet he could tell she wasn't intimidated. "You're right. Your family has nothing to fear from me...if I take the job."
"Do you want it?" Her hands dropped to her sides and he realized he'd like to feel the touch of her skin against his once again.
Impressed with Lucy and her directness, he took a deep breath, knowing he should jump on his Harley and head for far away places right now. But he wanted the work. He needed the satisfaction of physical labor so he could sleep at the end of the day. A ranch would provide plenty of that. "I want the job."
Their gazes held. The awareness between them almost hummed in the kitchen as the full realization that they'd be sleeping under the same roof hit him. Maybe she was thinking about it, too.
Lucy broke eye contact first and took a step back. "Well, good. I'll give you a brief tour, then show you where to put your things. By then—"
The kitchen door opened and a little boy—about five—came running in. When he saw Zack and Lucy, he stopped. "Are you the man who's gonna help Dad and Gramps and Lucy till Uncle Marty's okay again?"
Zack watched Lucy's chagrin and he guessed this child heard a lot more than the adults wanted him to hear. Zack wondered what the story was with "Marty." Not that it was any of his business.
Lucy said, "This is my nephew, Josh. My oldest brother's son. Josh, this is Mr. Burke and he is going to be working here for a while."
Josh stood in front of Zack and stared up at him. "Is that your bike out there?"
The boy's brown eyes twinkled with curiosity. His reddish hair spiked in more than one direction, while his sweatshirt proclaimed he was a COWBOYS fan. Zack's heart ached for the son he'd lost, the child who'd lost his life before he'd had the chance to begin it. He hadn't been around children since Kay and their baby died. He'd avoided contact just as he'd avoided the feelings that hurt too much to name.
When Mom Meets Dad Page 17
