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Courting the Enemy

Page 19

by Sherryl Woods


  And before she realized that he’d just stuck her with his bill. He figured she owed him the meal, since she hadn’t let him eat it in peace.

  He rode out to the ranch, walked into the den and picked up the paper he’d had drawn up months ago, along with another packet that he’d been holding for the right time. For good measure, he also grabbed the little jewelry box that had been tucked into his desk drawer just as long. The latter would definitely have made Cassie happy if she’d known about it. He had a feeling, though, that it was the papers that were going to make the difference with Karen, if anything did.

  He was about to leave when his grandfather stepped through the front door. He took one look at the papers and the box in Grady’s hand and gave a nod of approval.

  “About time,” he said, heading for the living room and lowering himself heavily into a chair, groaning a bit with the effort. He was playing the role of aging family scion to the hilt.

  “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Grady said sarcastically.

  “I intend to, and this time I’m not leaving until you’ve talked that woman into marrying you. I’d like to see one great-grandbaby before I die.”

  Grady grinned at him, impressed with the performance. Last he’d heard, the family doctor had said that Thomas Blackhawk would outlive them all.

  “With any luck, we’ll give you half a dozen,” he promised. If this was what his grandfather really wanted from him, he was all too eager to grant the request.

  “Not unless you get the woman to say yes,” the old man said wryly.

  “I will,” Grady said with confidence. He’d been waiting too damned long to take anything less than a yes for an answer.

  Karen was hanging laundry when she saw Grady’s car leave the highway and tear up the driveway creating a swirl of dust. Her heart went still and her hands rested motionless on the clothesline. The late August sun burned her shoulders.

  She watched warily as Grady came toward her, his gaze seeking hers, that incredible swagger making her blood run hot. It had been far too long since she’d seen it. More than once, she’d wondered if she would ever see him again.

  When he neared, he didn’t reach for her, didn’t change expressions. He simply handed her a single page of white paper with a few typed words, a scrawled signature and a notary’s stamp.

  “What’s this?” she asked, her gaze on him, not the paper.

  “Read it.”

  Her fingers trembled as she took the page and began to read.

  “Should Karen Hanson agree to marry me, I hereby relinquish any claim whatsoever against whatever property she might own at the time of our marriage. Such property shall be hers to do with as she chooses.”

  Stunned, she searched his face. “This is real?”

  “They tell me it’s legal,” he said. “This time I had Miss Ames at the bank look me in the eye when I signed so there would be no mistaking that it was me. Nate Grogan was there, too. They still have a lot to make amends for after that last fiasco.”

  For a moment she was distracted. “Did they ever figure out who forged those papers?”

  “No, and I told ’em to drop it. I’m convinced it was Jesse Oldham or someone he hired, but we might never know for sure no matter how much investigating is done.”

  She glanced again at the paper she held. “When did you do this?”

  “Look at the date.”

  To her shock, it was dated back in the spring, long before the fire. Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, Grady,” she whispered, thinking of all the months he’d waited to show her this proof that she mattered more to him than the land. In all that time, he could so easily have changed his mind.

  But he hadn’t, she thought, lifting her gaze to his.

  “It says something in here about marriage. Are you proposing?”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “I suppose I did go about this a little backward, but I wanted you to be sure of one thing before we got into the other.”

  “Sure of what?” she asked, though it was clear as the blue Wyoming sky.

  “That this is about the love I feel for you, about me wanting to spend the rest of my life with you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a jeweler’s box, then held it out to her. When she made no move to take it, he flipped it open to reveal a diamond solitaire, elegant in its simplicity, stunning in its confirmation that the proposal was for real. That diamond, its facets sparkling radiantly, all but shouted forever.

  “Now, there’s one more thing I want you to see before you decide yes or no,” he said.

  He reached into his back pocket this time and handed her a thick packet. When she opened it, she found airline tickets inside, two of them, to London. The date for travel was open, but the date of purchase, once again, was last spring. Her gaze flew to his.

  “I thought it might be a good place to start our married life-someplace neutral, someplace romantic, someplace where I can show you that you’re the only thing that matters to me,” he explained.

  “ London,” she breathed softly, tears stinging her eyes. “Oh, Grady, how did you know?”

  He chuckled at the question. “That you wanted to go to London? The stack of travel brochures on the kitchen table way back when was my first clue, that and the fact that you’ve mentioned that dream a time or two. It wasn’t hard.”

  “Not about London,” she said, as she moved into his embrace and lifted her mouth to his. “How did you know the way to my heart?”

  “Even easier,” he said. “I looked into my own.”

  His mouth settled over hers then, coaxing, persuading, until she pulled away. Her heart thrumming, she glanced toward the ring he was still holding.

  “I’m ready,” she whispered. She had been for weeks, but she’d been too scared, too afraid that it might be too late.

  His tanned fingers shook as he slid the ring onto her hand, then raised it to his lips. He gazed into her eyes, and only then did she see the hint of vulnerability fade, the quick rise of joy.

  “For a while there, darlin’, I was beginning to wonder if you ever would be.”

  “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  “You were worth the wait,” he said, and then his mouth claimed hers once more.

  Enemy, friend, lover…and now, one day soon, Grady would be her husband. Karen felt the familiar heat begin to build between them, felt the sharp tug of passion, and knew that this was right, that it was meant to be.

  Epilogue

  Karen gazed into the face of her son and felt an indescribable sense of joy steal over her. With his black hair and dark eyes, Thomas Grady Blackhawk was the most beautiful baby she’d ever seen.

  His great-grandfather agreed with her. He’d been hovering over the two of them for days now, eager to take over feedings, even diaper changes. Watching the two of them together had been a revelation. Until then she had been just a tiny bit intimidated by Grady’s grandfather. Now she knew that beneath that quiet, solemn, wise demeanor he was a real softie.

  She also knew what she had to do. In fact, she had already talked to a lawyer and today, now that the christening was over and the guests had left, she would tell Grady and Thomas what she had decided.

  There was a soft knock on the door of the nursery and both men came in. The baby whimpered as if he knew that his great-grandfather was in the vicinity. Only when she had handed him over to the old man did baby Thomas quiet down. She rose and gave them her place in the rocker, then walked over to the dresser to pick up the papers she had left there.

  “What are those?” Grady asked.

  She grinned as she handed them to him. “Why not read them and see for yourself?”

  Regarding her with a puzzled expression, he took them and began to scan the contents. He’d barely read a page, when his gaze shot to hers. “You want to do this?”

  “It’s done.”

  “What is it?” Thomas asked.

  “She’s donated the ranch to the Bureau of Indian Affairs,” Grady said. �
�It’s to be a working ranch for Native American boys who need a second chance.”

  “The Blackhawk Ranch,” she said quietly.

  “But Caleb’s family,” Grady protested. “They’ll hate this.”

  “I talked with them. I explained what I wanted to do and why. It was one of the most difficult conversations I’ve ever had in my life, but I told them I was prepared to go ahead with it whether they approved or not.”

  She reached for Grady’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Do you know what his father said?”

  Grady shook his head.

  “He said it was the right thing to do, that if he hadn’t been so blinded by his own anger and hurt all these years, he might have thought of it himself, that maybe if he had, Caleb would have been free to pursue a different life, that maybe he’d still be alive.”

  “And his mother?” Grady asked. “What did she say?”

  “Not much that first time, but she called me the next day and told me it was okay. She said that loving your father might have been wrong, but that he had been a good man and this would be a fitting tribute to him. She also wanted me to ask if you could ever forgive her for blaming you for what happened the night your father died. She said it was a burden you never should have carried.” Her eyes filled with tears. “After all this time, I think she and I have finally made peace.”

  “It’s a fine thing you’ve done,” Thomas said quietly. “But I think there’s one change needed.”

  “What’s that?” Grady asked.

  “I think it should be the Blackhawk-Hanson Ranch. That would make it the real tribute it ought to be.”

  Karen had considered that, then dismissed it, fearing that it would negate the meaning of the gesture to Grady’s ancestors. “Are you sure?” she asked, kneeling beside him.

  Thomas Blackhawk rested his hand on her head in a gesture that was part blessing, part affection. “I’m very sure, child. No tribute to the past is complete if it ignores part of the history.”

  “Then the Blackhawk-Hanson Ranch it is,” Grady said. “Maybe one day our son will grow up to run the place.”

  All three of them looked at the boy sleeping so peacefully in his great-grandfather’s arms. He had quite a legacy to live up to, Karen thought, gazing from his father to his great-grandfather.

  Then she grinned. The men in her life were really something. And with Kenny Oldham spending so much of his time with them these days in an attempt to make up for his part in the fire, she was surrounded by males. She needed a daughter to even things up a bit. She met Grady’s gaze.

  “I think your grandfather has things under control in here,” she began.

  Grady grinned. “Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

  “Don’t tell him in front of me,” Thomas said. “I’m an old man. I don’t need to know the details.”

  She winked at him. “Don’t worry. I’ll whisper my plans after I get him all alone.”

  A smile spread across the old man’s face. “If he doesn’t know without you spelling it out, he’s no grandson of mine.”

  “I agree,” Grady said, leading her from the room. “Talk is highly overrated.”

  “Then I’ll show you,” she said, closing their bedroom door securely behind her.

  She was pretty sure he’d gotten the message even before her blouse hit the floor.

  Sherryl Woods

  ***

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