He stood and took her hand to pull her up from the porch. “So, what do you think?” His moonlit gaze held a vulnerability she’d never seen before.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Forever sounds wonderful to me.”
His lips took hers and tears of happiness slid from her eyes as she tasted his love, her future in his kiss. This was her home. This was where she belonged, with Lucas through the rest of their lives.
When the kiss finally ended, he gazed at her with eyes that appeared to be lit from within. “I promise you, Nicolette, I am going to love you and Sammy forever, and you know that a real cowboy never breaks his promise.”
As they kissed again, Nicolette knew that all her dreams were coming true in a dusty Oklahoma town called Bitterroot. She’d found herself here, she’d rediscovered dreams for herself and her son and she’d found the man who would add his love to her happily-ever-after.
Epilogue
Thursday morning at nine all of the cowboys were in the pasture next to the shed that was about to be taken down. A backhoe had been brought in, along with several huge Dumpster containers that would be filled with refuse and then taken away.
Once that was done, the cowboys would move in to pull up whatever was left of the old wooden flooring so a new shed could be built from the ground up.
Cassie stood talking to the backhoe driver while Lucas, Nicolette and Sammy stood some distance away. Yesterday Lucas had taken them to show them the house and property he’d had his eye on for a while.
It had been perfect. A three-bedroom ranch house with a large, airy kitchen and a living room Nicolette could instantly envision as their own.
The front porch led to a large yard perfect for catching fireflies and the back porch had a view of a barn, stables and lush green pasture complete with a pond.
The place had been empty for almost a year and needed some work to get it into move-in condition, but before the day was over Lucas had put up earnest money and signed contracts to buy.
Sammy’s feet hadn’t touched the ground since they’d told him that the three of them were going to be a family and live in the house that not only had enough property for horses, but also maybe a dog and eventually a new brother or sister.
Cassie stepped away from the backhoe and the driver started the engine. Cassie joined Nicolette, Lucas and Sammy, and in surprisingly short order the destroyed building was taken down to the ground.
As the backhoe began to scoop and fill the Dumpster containers, Nicolette couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to the eleven of Cass’s cowboys left when Cassie sold the ranch.
Raymond Humes and several of his men were visible on horseback along the property line. Cassie’s meeting with the man had been put off by the events of the day that Samuel had taken Nicolette from the café. At the moment he and his men reminded Nicolette of circling vultures. She looked away from them.
Several of the cowboys got to work pulling up the wooden flooring that still remained. Lucas was just about to leave their side to join in the work when all hell broke loose.
Forest pulled up a large piece of wood from the ground and reeled backward, his cry of surprise even louder than the roar of the backhoe. He scrambled to his feet and raced a finger across his neck to get the backhoe driver to shut down. Lucas ran forward.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Cassie said worriedly.
“Maybe he found some buried treasure,” Sammy replied.
Several of the other men walked over to see what Forest had uncovered and reeled back in obvious shock. “Call Chief Bowie,” Mac yelled to Cassie. “He needs to get out here right away.”
Lucas raced back toward them, his face set in grim lines. “Sammy, why don’t you run ahead and say hello to Candy in the stables.”
“Okay,” he agreed, and as he took off running Cassie and Nicolette stopped walking and looked at Lucas expectantly.
“I think we just found Wendy Bailey.”
Cassie gasped as Nicolette reached for Lucas’s hand. “The waitress who has been missing?” Cassie asked.
Lucas nodded. “We need to get Bowie out here because that’s not all. I also saw a skeleton next to Wendy’s body.”
Cassie fumbled her cell phone out of her pocket and stepped away from Lucas and Nicolette to call the police chief. Nicolette squeezed Lucas’s hand. “Who could be responsible for this?”
“I don’t know, but why don’t you take Sammy into the house. I don’t want either of you to be out here when Dillon arrives. This isn’t something either of you need to see.”
Nicolette definitely agreed. Lucas headed back to where the other cowboys now stood in a group some distance from the fallen structure while she headed to the stables to get Sammy.
She found him in front of Candy’s stall, stroking Candy’s nose while sweet-talking her. He turned at the sound of her approach, but no smile lit his face. “Something bad has happened, hasn’t it?” he asked.
Nicolette hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Yes, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you or me or Lucas. Why don’t you come inside the house with me and you can draw and color a picture of what you want your room to look like in the new house.”
“Okay,” Sammy agreed. “I think I want bunk beds for when I meet all my new friends and sometimes somebody comes over to spend the night.”
“That sounds like a plan.” She hurried him into the house as she heard a siren piercing the air.
She got Sammy settled at the kitchen table with paper and crayons, and she stood at the back door and watched as Chief Bowie’s patrol car zoomed by the house and directly toward the shed site in the distance.
Within an hour there were half a dozen patrol cars along with the coroner’s vehicle parked by the shed. Adam stood nearby with his arm around Cassie, and the rest of the men gathered in a group by Nick, who even from this distance she could tell was distraught.
Sammy finished his picture of his dream room and then moved on to drawing the front yard of the new house with Nicolette and Lucas seated on the porch and Sammy playing with a shaggy-haired dog.
A body bag was loaded into the coroner’s van and drove away. She assumed Wendy’s body was in the back and her heart squeezed tight with grief for the young woman she’d never met, a woman she would now never meet.
Her stomach twisted in knots as Lucas approached the house, his features grim. He walked into the back door and instantly placed a smile on his face as Sammy showed him the pictures he’d drawn.
“I need to talk to your mother in the living room,” he said. “Why don’t you draw a picture of Candy in our stable at the new house because I have a feeling if your mother talked to Cassie we could manage to get her to let us take Candy with us when we move.”
“That would be awesome!” Sammy grabbed for a fresh piece of paper while Lucas took Nicolette’s hand and led her into the formal living room.
Only then did he look both grim and horrified as he faced her. “It’s bad. It’s really bad.”
“What could be worse than Wendy’s body found and a skeleton next to her?” Nicolette asked as she moved closer to him.
He stared at her hollowly. “Six more skeletons.”
Nicolette gasped and reached for his hands. “My God, Lucas.”
He squeezed her hands tightly. “It appears that somebody has been using the space under the flooring in the shed as a burial ground for years.”
“So, what happens now?”
“An investigation will begin first in the case of Wendy’s murder. As far as the skeletons are concerned, Bowie intends to call in a forensic anthropologist from Oklahoma City. Her first job will be to help identify the remains. Unfortunately Cassie isn’t going to get her wish to sell this place anytime soon. It’s now a crime scene and I have a feeling it’s going to be quite a while before things are cleared up.”
“She’ll get through it. She’s stronger than you all give her credit for,” Nicolette replied.
He nodded
. “I imagine all of us who have worked here for so long will be potential suspects, but I can’t imagine any of them having anything to do with this.”
He pulled her into an embrace. “This has nothing to do with us. We’re going to work together to get that house ready for move-in and then the three of us are going to have a wonderful life together.”
His words warmed her, excited her, but her excitement was tempered slightly by the question of what evil existed at the Holiday Ranch.
* * * * *
Be sure to pick up Carla’s next romance in the
COWBOYS OF HOLIDAY RANCH series,
on sale in the summer of 2015.
And if you loved this romantic,
no-thrills-barred story,
don’t miss even more from Carla Cassidy:
HER SECRET, HIS DUTY
THE COLTON BRIDE
LONE WOLF STANDING
LETHAL LAWMAN
Available now from Harlequin Romantic Suspense!
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Chapter 1
Perceptions didn’t always reveal the truth about a man. What he appeared to be and what he was could be two different things. Surface and depth. The surface reflected the shell of the man, what he looked like, what he said, what he did. Underneath that, a well of secrets lurked. Painful secrets that death exposed. Ruthless and indifferent in life. Human in death. That about summed up Reginald Adair. Few had liked him, but then, no one had really known him, had they?
Carson Adair marveled over how little he knew his father when he thought he had. He spread his hands over the top of the desk. How would his father have felt sitting here? Powerful. Accomplished.
Detached.
Sad.
Human...
Carson would not have associated that word with his dad prior to his murder. But a gnawing curiosity had nestled inside him. If his father hadn’t been who he’d thought, who had he been?
He imagined what it must have been like to be the man at the top of a thriving telecommunications corporation, running the competition into the ground, doing whatever it took to keep shareholders happy and revenue flowing. Not caring about anything or anyone else. Maybe he rarely noticed the spectacular view of downtown San Diego. Maybe he rarely enjoyed a lunch or dinner for anything other than a business meeting.
His wife. His kids. He couldn’t have had many fond memories about them. Turns out Reginald had been consumed by the kidnapping of his first-born son. Indifference had hidden his grief. No one had known about Jackson Adair until the reading of the will. Carson had seen the reports from his father’s secret investigation.
Lost in what it must have been like to be Reginald Adair, he still couldn’t say he knew or even liked his father. He definitely couldn’t say he loved him. But he was moved by the discovery that the man had real emotions, that he’d carried such a weighty burden all these years—and kept to himself. It explained so much. That his father was capable of love, that he must have loved his firstborn son and his first wife, two things he’d never mentioned to anyone. Carson wondered if Patsy would have been a different woman had she been able to make Reginald love her the way he must have loved his first family. Had his aloofness led to her killing him? It would appear so, since she had fled the country and was the prime suspect in his murder case.
Although his father was dead, Carson was getting to know him for the first time. That dredged up so much conflict in him. Until now, he’d strove to be everything his father wasn’t. Do and be whatever earned his father’s disapproval. Now he felt a connection to the man. He cared about giving him justice and finding the son who had been taken from him. And in the process, knowing him as he’d never had.
People said he was just like Reginald and that had always annoyed him. Maybe it still did. Back then, he’d wanted to get as far away from his father and his empire as he could. His mother, too, but as a boy, it had been his father’s approval he’d craved. To get that, he’d have had to devote his life to his father’s dream. AdAir Corp. When he’d grown into a young man, he’d done the opposite. He’d rebelled and joined the Marines. His father had been so angry when he’d informed him. And Carson had been nothing but glad that he was mad.
His gaze fell to a photograph facing him on the desk. It was of Landry and Whit with Reginald. They stood in this office, smiling with warmth Carson would have called fake before learning about Jackson. Something in the background caught his eye. It was a blue ceramic bowl on top of a wood-and-glass display case along the wall next to the door. Carson looked there. The cabinet was there but the ceramic bowl was missing. The picture looked fairly recent.
Where was the bowl, and was there anything significant about it?
“Meeting’s started, Mr. Adair.”
Whit’s secretary stood in the doorway of the office.
Carson stood. “Right. Thanks.” He’d lost track of time. “You have the envelope?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll wait for your call.”
“Thanks.” He hoped he wouldn’t have to call her.
Taking the papers he’d been studying earlier, he left the office and walked down the bright and wide hallway of AdAir Corp with a limp that embittered him when he dwelled on it too much. Nothing like facing the rest of his life with a constant reminder of what he could no longer have. Mobility. A career in the Marines.
Reaching the conference room where the mediation meeting had been scheduled regarding Patsy’s dispute over his father’s will, Carson entered. Everyone was already there: his brother, Whit, sister, Landry, Georgia Mason and her stepmother, Ruby, and two attorneys—one Patsy had apparently hired on her own to represent her dispute, and the mediation lawyer. Despite the crowd of people, Carson noticed Georgia right away. Long, luxurious, dark red hair cascaded over her shoulders. The pencil skirt trimmed her curvy waist and her long, slender legs were bare from the knees down. Her dark green eyes glared at him from across the room. Everyone else had taken a seat but her. She was still mad at him. Mad at every Adair in the room. But her beauty struck him just as much as the first time he’d seen her. The sight of her really got his testosterone going.
“Glad you could make it,” she said.
“Sorry. I got hung up in Reginald’s office.” He limped over to her. It wasn’t a horrible limp, beastly but only a little.
After nodding to Whit and Landry, he put the papers facedown on the table, then went to Georgia and pulled out a chair for her.
Her eyes traveled down and then rose up his body, curious about his limp and then all fire when she met his eyes.
“Have a seat, Ms. Mason,” he said cajolingly.
“After you, Mr. Adair.” She didn’t reciprocate his tone, hers having a decided edge.
He grinned and saw Ruby smiling at the exchange. At sixty, she was a little thin but attractive with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked nothing like Georgia, although Georgia would probably age just as gracefully as Ruby had.
“Mrs. Mason,” he said.
“Mr. Adair.”
After acknowledging the mediation lawyer, he saved his next greeting for last. It was Patsy’s attorney. Before she’d left the country, she’d given him explicit instructions regarding her dispute over Ruby Mason’s inheritance and the authority to sign on her behalf. Carson planned to squash her intentions today.
<
br /> The beady-eyed, short, stocky, balding attorney gave a nod in greeting.
“Shall we begin?” the mediation lawyer said. His name was Schmidt. He was skinny and had all of his blond hair. Georgia had chosen him, and the rest of them had agreed to meet to sign an agreement today, to settle this dispute outside of court.
Carson waited for Georgia to sit down.
When she did, he took the seat beside her, seeing how she sat straighter, ramrod stiff. She didn’t like him at first sight, and his desire to charm her went beyond what would be required for a casual acquaintance. Luckily, he had enough of his father in him to maintain a business sense and stay professional.
“We’re here today because Patsy Adair doesn’t think Ruby Mason should have any share of the inheritance,” the mediator started things off.
“I believe I speak for my brother and sister when I say Ruby is entitled to whatever our father decided to give her.” Carson took over the meeting.
Schmidt looked at him, not approving but not stopping him.
“He obviously wanted her to have something,” Carson continued, “so I propose we make this meeting short and simple and agree that it isn’t our right to change his will. Are we all in agreement?”
“I am,” Whit said. Dressed in a dark suit, impeccably trimmed and looking the part of Adair’s new leader, he sat in a confident pose.
“I am,” Landry echoed. She seemed loopy, as if she’d taken something before coming here. Ever since their father’s murder and especially the announcement that Patsy was his suspected murderer, she had not been herself. Carson was getting worried about her.
“Speaking on behalf of Patsy,” Patsy’s attorney said. “I—”
“You’ll sign this agreement or I’ll contest her share. I’ve already spoken with Whit and Landry. They support my decision.”
A Real Cowboy Page 23
