by Lisa Jackson
She held on to her baby more firmly, and Angela cooed softly. Lesley had to think of her child first. Before anything else. This wouldn’t beat her down. She wouldn’t let it. Stiffening her spine, she looked to the horizon and noticed the way the fields sloped ever upward into the forested foothills of the mountains.
Maybe she should sell out.
Maybe she had no choice.
“There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” Kate said as she sat behind her large, neat-as-a-proverbial-pin desk. “I know it’s a hideous old expression but it’s true, Chase.”
He was seated in a chair in her office, one booted foot resting on his opposing knee. He’d come to Minnesota at his great-aunt’s request and left her a printed update on his ranch’s profitability.
“You don’t like my idea.”
“No matter how noble it is for you to give Lesley and her child your interest in the Waterman place, to sign over water rights, I think it’s premature. Don’t you want a place of your own?”
He glowered at his great-aunt. She knew what his own ranch meant to him. “Of course I do. But some things are more important than owning a scrap of land.”
Instead of being furious with him for throwing in the towel on the operation, Kate smiled, almost smugly, as if she’d expected his visit. “This is sudden, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But it has to be done.”
“Well, we have a deal, Chase, and you have nearly six more months to make it work. I think, if you explore all the angles here, you’ll come up with a better solution.”
He eyed the elderly woman, whose mind was as quick as that of a woman—or a man for that matter—half her age. “You know what I think, Kate,” he drawled, watching her attention sharpen on him. “I think you deliberately set me up on the place because it was next to Dad’s old ranch,” he said, watching her reaction. “Next to Lesley Bastian.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “You’re giving me far too much credit for being clever.”
“Don’t think so.” He rubbed his jaw. “I got a call from my cousin Kyle the other day.”
She sighed and glanced out the window. “I didn’t know you were close.”
“Not really, but he’d heard about me ranching the spread in Montana and told me about the deal you set him up with years ago. Sounds kind of familiar.”
“There are similarities, yes.”
Chase had made his point. Kyle, the playboy, had been offered the ranch in Clear Springs, Wyoming, if he stayed there for six months. What he hadn’t counted on was that his neighbor was none other than his old girlfriend, a woman who had borne his daughter out of wedlock.
“Kyle settled down. Did better than I expected.”
“And now you’re playing with my life and, if the rumor’s true, a couple of my other cousins.”
“Don’t forget, Chase, you wanted your life played with,” she reminded him, and ignored his dig about the other deals she’d offered his cousins.
“You’re not God, you know.”
She chuckled. “Of course not. No one is. I prefer to think of myself as a kind of…well, for lack of a better word, a guardian angel.”
“What?” he asked, thunderstruck at her particular choice of words.
“Well, that’s a little lofty, perhaps, but you get my drift. I believe everyone makes their own decisions, no matter what he’s given or offered in life. Others, like me, are there to help.”
Chase wasn’t certain of the details of Kate’s other ventures, only that she was involved in some deals with Ryder and Hunter, his first cousins, and had set them up in similar situations as this bargain she and he had agreed upon. Not that it mattered.
Kate trained her attention on Chase. “I think you’ll be able to handle anything that comes along, even the problems you’re having with Lesley Bastian.” She winked at her great-nephew. “Just search your heart.”
“That’s your advice?” he asked, clucking his tongue at the cliché. “‘Search your heart’?”
“It’s always worked for me.”
Chase wasn’t so sure that his heart could be trusted where his wallet, or more precisely, the ranch was concerned, but he left Kate and the high-rises of Minneapolis to return to his new home in the foothills of the Bitterroot Mountains. If nothing else, flying away from the bustle and congestion of the city convinced him that he belonged in Montana.
With Lesley. You belong with Lesley, a voice nagged him, as the nose of the airplane broke through the clouds and the jet cruised toward the setting sun. You belong with her because you love her. It’s that simple, Chase. As Kate advised, all you have to do is ‘search your heart.’ You can’t keep running from the past forever. Emily and Ryan are gone. Lesley and Angela are alive.
He ordered a drink from the waitress and told himself he was being foolish. Kate’s advice was far from simple. Or was it? As the jet banked slowly, the germ of an idea began to take hold in his mind. It was an idea he’d discarded long ago, but it was an answer, and the only one that made any sense.
For the first time in a week he smiled, and a sense of peace invaded his soul. Yep. As soon as he touched down on Montana soil, he’d start the wheels in motion to change the direction of his life. Forever.
Kate eyed the clock. Nearly 10:00 p.m. and she was still at the office. If Sterling had a clue, he’d read her the riot act. A woman her age was supposed to eat tasteless low-sodium food, play bridge once a week, have her hair styled every Friday morning and be in bed by nine each evening. And she certainly wasn’t supposed to meddle, or as she preferred to think of it—playing guardian angel to her grown children, grandchildren, nieces or nephews.
“Phooey,” she said, stretching from her chair and walking smartly to the bar. She poured herself a glass of chilled Riesling, smiled as the wine slid down her throat and decided that Chase needed a little help. Though she’d promised herself she would never take this next step, she decided she had no other choice and crossed the room again. Outside the window the lights of Minneapolis were bright against the backdrop of the night, the city alive with a pulse all its own. Oh, how she loved it here; almost as much as she loved her family. If her work was her inspiration, her family was her purpose. Always.
She touched the keyboard of her computer, found her address book within the files and reached for the telephone receiver when she unearthed Lesley Bastian’s number. Yes, she decided, punching out the numbers, it was time to meddle a bit. Not much. Just a tiny little smidgen.
Far away in Montana, the phone on the other end of the line began to ring.
“So that’s it,” the woman who identified herself as Kate Fortune said. “I hope you understand.”
Lesley was left speechless. She hung up, her mind spinning out of control, her heart filled with despair as she thought of Chase and all he’d gone through during his life. She’d known, via Ray Mellon, about Chase losing the ranch, his twin brother, and mother. Chase himself had once alluded to the fact that he was estranged from his father and sister, Delia, and he’d explained that his wife and son had died. What she didn’t understand was that Chase suffered from guilt over their deaths.
Chase Fortune had become a lonely, bitter man. No wonder it was so hard for him to open up, to share his heart.
Well, damn it, she was going to make him try. She’d wake Angela, drive over to Chase’s house and tell him the truth, that she loved him, that she thought there had to be a way to make things work between them, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Despite all her vows to herself that she didn’t need another man in her life, could stand on her own, would be mother and father alike to her young daughter, she loved Chase Fortune, and whether he wanted to hear it or not, she was bound and determined to tell him the truth.
She’d just reached for the diaper bag when she heard a truck in the drive. Peering through the kitchen windows she recognized Chase’s pickup, moonlight spangling the fenders. Her heart jolted, her pulse raced, and when she saw him stretch out of the
cab, she crossed her fingers and silently promised to say what was on her mind.
Wearing jeans and a worn rawhide jacket, he walked up the path to the back door and as he stepped onto the porch, she flung open the door. “I have something I want to say to you,” she said before she lost her nerve.
“Isn’t that something?” he drawled. “I have something I want to say to you.”
Her resolve started to crumble under the weight of his stare. His eyes were dark with the night, his jaw granite hard, his lips as thin as razor blades.
“I—”
“Marry me.”
“—love you.”
“Marry me.” He stared at her for a second. “What did you say?”
She held her breath for a second. Was she hearing correctly? “I…I said I love you.”
One side of his mouth twitched into a smile. “Well, that’s handy, since I just asked you to marry me.”
She laughed, trying to sort it out as his arms surrounded her. “You didn’t ask, Chase Fortune, you demanded.”
“I just wanted to say it fast.”
“Before you chickened out?”
His chuckled was deep and low. “Because you scare the living tar out of me.”
“Why’s that?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Her heart was pounding, the world seeming to spin more brightly than ever.
He scooped her off her feet. “Because, lady, I love you. Way too much.”
Her spirit soared and as his mouth crashed down on hers, she parted her lips and opened her heart. Could it be? Did he truly love her?
“You haven’t answered me.” He carried her into the house and kicked the door shut with his heel. “Getting married solves all our problems, you know.”
“Such as?”
“That little issue of water rights. I think if we’re careful, we can work both places off the spring runoff. We’ll live in one house, keep the stock in one area and monitor what we put in troughs. Your horses will run with my cattle.”
“You’ve got this all figured out,” she teased, as he carried her up the stairs.
“It was a long plane ride from Minnesota. Gave me time to think. We’ll work together and make both places profitable, but that’s not what really matters.”
“It’s not?” Her heart was so full she was certain it would burst.
“Nope.” Hauling her into the baby’s room, they stared down at Angela sleeping peacefully in her crib with only a night-light and the moonlight streaming through her window giving any illumination. “It’s you. And me. And Angela.” His voice lowered with emotion. “We’re a family, Lesley. If you just say yes.”
Tears touched the corners of her eyes. “Yes, Chase,” she said, overcome with a joy that started deep in her soul. “I’d love to marry you.”
He gave out a whoop, and Angela started in her crib only to fall instantly asleep again. As he carried Lesley into her bedroom, she glanced out the window to the summer night. Her mind was playing tricks on her, of course, because she couldn’t have seen the guardian angel she’d conjured up in December, the spirit named Sarah who had guided Chase to her disabled and frozen car.
No, she decided, kissing the man who was to be her husband, her mind was only playing tricks upon her because she was so blithely and deliriously happy.
She was soon to become Mrs. Chase Fortune.
Epilogue
Christmas bells pealed over the city, and the lights of the high-rises of Minneapolis were dazzlingly brilliant. A cold snap had blanketed the city with snow, and traffic was snarled. Chase helped Lesley and Angela out of the cab and into the Fortune Corporation headquarters where the annual Fortune Christmas party was being held.
Angela’s eyes were round and bright, the ribbon in her hair sliding off a clump of her wavy dark tress.
“It’s gorgeous,” Lesley said as Chase guided her into the room where the party was in full swing. Guests were dressed in holiday finery. Jewels sparkled under the brilliance of thousands of tiny lights.
A lot had happened since last year, and Chase no longer felt out of place, though he still tugged at his tie, and his boots pinched a bit. He was married, the father of a beautiful little girl, and Lesley was pregnant again, barely showing, but radiant in a black velvet dress. On top of all that good fortune, his ranch, the “old Waterman place” had turned a small profit for the year because of the value of his breeding stock. He’d decided to rename the ranch the “new Fortune place.”
Music and conversation buzzed around them and Kate, spying Chase and his family, waved, flagging them down as she approached. “Oh, my,” she said, sighing happily. “Look at the three of you!” She hugged Lesley as if she’d been a part of the family for years. “This couldn’t have turned out better if I’d planned it myself,” she teased, and Chase skewered her with a look that said he wasn’t buffaloed for a minute.
“You look like a million bucks, Kate.”
“Do I?” She laughed deep in her throat. “Well, speaking of money, I have a deed locked in the safe downstairs. It gives you full title to the ranch. Good job.”
Chase hugged her and kissed her cheek. “I think I should thank you, Kate. Not for the ranch, but for giving me my life. My family.”
“Goodness.” She sniffed loudly and blinked against a sudden rush of emotion. “This did turn out well, didn’t it?” She glanced over at Lesley and little Angela as a crafty smile toyed at her lips. She winked at Chase and said, “Perhaps I should do this all again next year….”
A HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Barbara Boswell
Prologue
A beaming Kate Fortune surveyed the festive group gathered to celebrate her eightieth birthday. A tall decorated Christmas tree stood in the center of the room, and red and white poinsettias surrounded the table showcasing her two-tiered birthday cake. Kate herself had pointed out that since her birthday was so close to the holiday, it made sense to combine the two celebrations. The Fortune canon of “target and strategize” was applicable, even for a landmark birthday and Christmas.
Kate felt a familiar burst of pride as she looked at the guests of all ages who were talking, laughing, eating and exuberantly racing around, clearly having a wonderful time. All her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren were here, along with a slew of nieces and nephews and their offspring, too. She adored them all.
The only person here who wasn’t related to her was her sweet young social secretary, Kelly Sinclair. From across the room, Kate caught Kelly’s eye and gave her a little wave. Kelly had done a marvelous job of coordinating this party.
Kate was well pleased at the turnout. Due to time and distance, these days it was rare to have all her loved ones under one roof, but everybody had agreed that her eightieth birthday party was not to be missed.
“Quite a gathering, Kate,” observed Sterling Foster, coming to her side, his eyes sweeping over the jovial crowd. “Of course, I expected no less. It’s a very fitting tribute to a very special lady.”
Sterling was her second husband—her love, her best friend and coconspirator, and her lawyer. He handled all his roles with humor, intelligence and candor. He’d been instrumental in helping her with her latest plan—to bestow gifts upon additional members of the younger Fortune generation.
“Have you spoken to the boys yet?” Sterling asked.
Kate chuckled. The “boys,” Chase, Ryder and Hunter, were ages 34, 32 and 29, respectively. But she understood Sterling’s frame of reference. These days, she herself viewed everybody under fifty-five as boys and girls.
“I thought I’d speak to each of them separately.” The trio were cousins, her late husband, Ben Fortune’s, grandnephews.
She’d kept track of them since childhood; all three had grown into interesting, unique individuals. But all three were at something of a crossroads in their adult lives. They needed something, somebody, to provide the chance that would ensure their happiness and wellbeing. They needed their great-aunt Kate.
“I know Ch
ase, Ryder and Hunter are going to do well with these gifts,” she assured Sterling before he could voice the concern that they might not. Sterling was a dear, but he did tend to worry too much at times. “After all, I had smashing successes with my gifts to my grandchildren, didn’t I?”
“I can’t argue with that. You seem to possess a certain knack for arranging things, my dear,” agreed Sterling. He snatched two glasses of champagne from the tray of a circulating waiter. “Shall we toast your upcoming smashing successes?”
Kate clinked her crystal goblet to his. “Definitely.”
A stunned Ryder Fortune stared at the twinkling lights on the enormous Christmas tree. All around him a multitude of relatives were partying, but he stood mute with wonder as he contemplated the incredible news his great-aunt Kate had just delivered.
She was offering to give him a company, a design firm along the lines of the one his father used to own. His dad had intended for him, the oldest son, to join his company when he came of age, but back then Ryder had ideas of his own concerning his future.
Upon earning a degree in industrial engineering and an MBA, he had defiantly tossed aside the role of heir apparent. All of a sudden, despite—or perhaps because of—years of preparation, the business world struck him as too confining, a life sentence in a corporate straitjacket. An unbearable fate for a restless twenty-three-year-old. After all, he was a Fortune, born and bred—and that meant doing exciting things!
So he’d shed the shackles of his paternal legacy, broken up with his trophy fiancée—he was way too young to get married anyway!—and asked his great-aunt Kate if she had something for him to do. Something that had nothing to do with the tedious corporate grind.
