Lone Star Holiday Proposal

by Yvonne Lindsay

  “Okay, ladies,” she said once everyone was there. “You all know where your projects are stored. I’ve already set out all your tools and the pots of glue and scrapers, so let’s get to it!”

  The noise in the workroom steadily built and conversation began to flow between the women. As Raina did her rounds, checking to make sure that everyone had what she needed and offering advice where necessary, she was startled to overhear Nolan’s name being mentioned. She hated eavesdroppers but in this case she couldn’t help it; she hovered near the women talking about him.

  “I have to say it was a surprise to see him back in town,” one of the older women said. “Apparently even his own mother didn’t know he was coming back.”

  “Do you know why he’s here? I know he’s not staying with his parents. They’re neighbors of mine and I’ve barely even seen Nolan there,” replied another.

  Raina interrupted them both. “He’s with Samson Oil. He’s the legal counsel for their land grabbing.”

  Her words were laced with bitterness and more than one pair of eyes swiveled to watch her as she spoke.

  “Really? Oh, that’s a pity. He was such a nice boy and he grew up into a fine young man.”

  Raina was hard pressed not to snort at the woman’s remark. Fine? Sure, physically maybe. Certainly not as far as his integrity went.

  The woman continued. “It was such a shame about his wife and son. A thing like that is bound to change a man. Makes him harder.”

  A general murmur of assent rose around her and, as if by silent mutual agreement, the women turned their conversation in a different direction. Numbing shock overwhelmed Raina, holding her paralyzed in its grip. Buzzing filled her ears. She felt herself sway a little, as if she was losing her balance, and she put out a hand to a chair to steady herself. Breathe, she told herself. Breathe. After a few seconds, she felt as if she was regaining control. Had anyone noticed how she’d completely zoned out?

  She looked around the workroom. Apparently not. Her students seemed intent on their tasks and were happily chatting among themselves while they worked. Raina drew in another breath and walked slowly to the back of the workroom where she leaned against the wall. The buzzing in her ears began to subside, but as it did, questions began circling in her mind.

  A wife and son?

  Nolan had never so much as mentioned his parents, let alone anyone else. Sure, he’d made vague reference to visiting family in town, but that had been it. So who was she, this wife of his? Could she have been a customer of hers, or maybe Raina had passed her in the street somewhere? And his son—how old was he?

  Suddenly it all became very clear to her why Nolan was so good with her little boy. Why he hadn’t been grossed out by JJ’s snotty nose on the day they’d met. Why he’d so competently cleaned JJ’s hands at the dinner table that night. Why he’d so easily fallen into conversation with JJ about his Spider-Man obsession.

  So, were he and his wife amicably separated or bitterly estranged? Which one was it? The latter would certainly explain him staying away from Royal for so long and probably would also explain him not bringing them up in conversation. Raina clenched her hands into tight fists of frustration, digging, her fingernails into her palms. She welcomed the pain. It was a distraction from the pain of the betrayal she’d felt on learning he was working for Samson Oil—and realizing she’d let herself begin to fall for him. Hard. Physical pain she could deal with. It healed. It was the emotional pain and the toll it took that were harder to recover from.

  A new thought bloomed in Raina’s mind. Maybe his wife had cheated on him. Would that have been the catalyst that sent Nolan to another state? Had he sought to escape the pain of a relationship breakdown by moving away? Was that why he’d never said anything to her about a wife and child?

  Whatever his circumstances, no matter whether they were justified or not, nothing excused the way he’d sought her out under false pretenses. He’d deceived her about the Courtyard. Why wouldn’t he do the same about a wife and child, too? It wasn’t her problem. Not anymore. She’d sent him on his way and it was highly unlikely their paths would cross again.

  * * *

  Nolan was glad of the excuse to quit Royal, even if it was for only one day to meet with his boss in Holloway. He’d known coming back to Royal would be tough, would force him to face a lot of his personal demons, but he hadn’t expected, or wanted, to find someone to whom he was so strongly attracted.

  He struck the steering wheel with the heel of his palm and cursed aloud in the cabin of the SUV. How could he have handled things differently with Raina? No matter how many times he examined everything they’d said and done since he’d met her, he still couldn’t see anywhere he could have prevented what happened. Short of telling her exactly why he was in Royal on the day he’d introduced himself at the Courtyard, of course. And he’d just bet how well that would have gone down.

  Besides, the confidentiality clause in his contract with Rafiq prevented him from disclosing Samson Oil’s business with anyone other than the party with whom he was negotiating. His hands had been tied.

  Even though he’d rationalized everything, he still couldn’t erase the look on Raina’s face when she’d told him to get out of her house. He’d dealt with a lot of angry people in his time, but never before had there been such a palpable level of anguish beneath the anger. It had tortured him to know he’d put that look on her face.

  He knew he should have stepped away the moment he’d recognized the fierce attraction he’d felt toward her. How often had he told himself that she was everything he wasn’t looking for?

  A speed limit sign shot by his window and Nolan realized that he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he’d lost track of what he was doing. He eased off the accelerator and focused on his surroundings. He was almost there. As much as he wasn’t looking forward to imparting the news to Rafe that the Courtyard was completely off the table, it would at least be some respite from constantly thinking about Raina.

  The entrance to the Holloway Inn wasn’t what Nolan had expected. From the moment he pulled up outside, he wondered if somewhere along the line he hadn’t somehow traveled thousands of miles to England. The white stucco walls, with dark wooden battens, reminded him very much of a Tudor inn he and Carole had stayed in outside London during their honeymoon, although, he noted as he entered the lobby, that’s where the similarities ended. There’d be no ducking to clear doorways here. He walked up to the reception desk and smiled at the receptionist.

  “Good morning. Nolan Dane to see Mr. Ben Samson,” he said, using the name Rafe had assumed while the property negotiations were ongoing.

  “Welcome to the Holloway Inn, Mr. Dane. Mr. Samson is waiting for you in his suite.”

  The young woman smiled and gave him concise directions to the suite, and Nolan located the rooms without any trouble. His knock was quickly answered by Rafe himself. The fact his boss was alone was unusual but not entirely unexpected given how secretive he’d been about his involvement with Samson Oil from the outset.

  “Good morning,” Rafe said, shaking Nolan’s hand and gesturing for him to enter. “Knowing how punctual you always are, I took the liberty of ordering coffee already. Help yourself.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nolan stepped inside, his feet sinking into the plush carpeting. He looked around the suite. It was no more and no less than he’d come to expect. The main living room was spacious and well lit. A fifty-inch flat-screen television took pride of place on one wall and a number of oversize leather sofas and chairs were grouped around it. Across the room, a dining table, large enough to comfortably seat twelve, was covered in what looked like a map of Royal and several stacks of papers.

  He gave Rafe a look. His boss was as immaculately turned out as ever but there were shadows under his eyes.

  “Hard night?” he asked, as he poured hims
elf a coffee and helped himself to a Danish pastry from the white-linen-draped room-service cart.

  “I met someone.”

  Rafe’s terse response was characteristic of the man himself, but the second he reached for the cuff of his sleeve and gave it a tug, Nolan knew there was a great deal of meaning behind those three words. Rafe was a controlled man and generally very reserved. In fact, the first time Nolan had met him he’d been a little unnerved by the guy’s intensity until he learned to appreciate the keen intelligence and mind for business that lay behind it. But he had his familiar mannerisms, as well, and Nolan knew this one—something had made Rafiq uncomfortable. Something...or someone.

  “A woman?” Nolan pressed before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Of course a woman,” Rafe laughed. “An intriguing and beautiful one at that.”

  “Have I met her before?”

  “I only met her myself last night.”

  For a second Rafe’s eyes got a faraway look, as if he was remembering something intensely personal.

  In all the time Nolan had worked for his boss, he’d never known the man to indulge in anything as impulsive as a one-night stand. He wouldn’t mind meeting the woman who’d managed to put that look in his boss’s eye.

  “She must have been something else, huh?” he probed.

  “Yes, she certainly was.” Rafe appeared to shake off whatever memory had gripped him and gathered himself together. “But that’s in the past. We’re not here to discuss my after-hours activities. Come, sit at the table. Bring me up to date. What’s happening with Winslow Properties?”

  Shaking his head, Nolan settled into a chair while Rafiq took one opposite. “No movement there at all. We don’t stand a chance under the new management. It’s like arguing with a wooden Indian.”

  Rafe raised one dark brow and Nolan waved a hand in response.

  “Local terminology,” he explained. “Basically, pressing forward with Winslow Properties is a waste of time. They’re not selling.”

  Rafe didn’t look pleased. “You’re certain?”

  “Absolutely.”

  To his credit Rafe accepted the news with better grace than Nolan had anticipated. Perhaps he realized that sometimes it was better to step away. Rafe pushed a folder toward Nolan.

  “Let’s move on these, then.”

  Nolan lifted the folder from the table and opened it. He ran his eye down the list on the first sheet. Not entirely surprising, he thought, and from what he’d seen and heard in Royal already, he had no doubt they’d manage to acquire these properties without too much hassle. His eye stopped on the name of one ranch, though, and a frisson of disquiet tickled at the back of his mind.

  “All of these?” Nolan asked, looking up from the documents.

  Not a man to waste words, Rafe merely nodded.

  “This one—the Wild Aces ranch—what do you want with that?”

  Again Rafe raised one brow. “I don’t pay you to ask questions.”

  Nolan’s sense of unease increased. He’d done plenty of research both before he returned to Royal and since he’d been there. He knew who was vulnerable and he knew who’d had enough hardship to be coaxed off their land and sent to newer pastures. And he knew, without a doubt, that with the right amount of coercion, the owners of the Wild Aces would in all likelihood accept a reasonable offer for their land.

  “That’s true,” Nolan conceded. “But if I’m to perform my role properly, I need to know the background.”

  Rafe met Nolan’s gaze full-on, not giving an inch and continuing to say nothing. Eventually Rafe made a sound of annoyance and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table between them and steepling his fingers.

  “Why is it so important to you all of a sudden to know why? It hasn’t been an issue for you up until now.”

  “I’m your boots-on-the-ground man. As such, I’m a lot closer to the people of Royal.”

  “Which is exactly why I appointed you to this role. You grew up there. You know how best to attain my goals.”

  “But I don’t know why you’re doing this. People are already asking questions. Questions I can’t answer.”

  “And you don’t have to.”

  “No, that’s true. But my parents still live there. My father still practices there. I would hate there to be any fallout for them.”

  “There will be no fallout. Are we not helping people by relieving them of useless assets? Offering them good money and a fresh start before they’re forced to move on when their banks foreclose?”

  “We are. But if the assets are so useless, why do you want them so badly?”

  Rafe said nothing.

  “If I’m to continue to act on your behalf I need to know.”

  Rafe leaned back in his chair again. “A threat, Nolan?”

  “No, a statement of fact. Take Wild Aces for example. Most of that land is leased out to another operation, the McCallums’, because their stored water supply was compromised after the tornado and with the drought they haven’t been able to replenish their water stock. To keep their herds at optimum levels, they’re leasing this land here.” He stabbed a finger at the map on the table. “If your offer to purchase the land is accepted by the owners, do you intend to continue with the lease already in place?”

  “My plans are mine alone. I don’t disclose my reasons.” Rafe paused before adding, “To anyone.”

  Nolan carefully closed the folder in his hands and, equally carefully, placed it on the table. “Then I cannot continue to work for you.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Never more so. I will not represent Samson Oil unless I have a better understanding of what your aims are in relation to the land acquisitions. Like I said, people are beginning to ask questions and I have a few of my own.”

  “It is no one’s business but mine.”

  There were times when Rafe’s privileged background shone through—times like this when he held himself above others and believed his will was law. That might be the case back in Al Qunfudhah, his homeland, but the last time Nolan checked it certainly wasn’t that way in Texas.

  “Then I’m sorry, but I’m forced to resign. Effective immediately.”

  “We have a contract, Nolan,” Rafe reminded him. “You are bound to honor that, are you not?”

  “A contract I drew up,” Nolan said on a sigh. “And under the terms of the exit clause, I believe you’ll discover that I’m within my rights to do this. I’m sorry, Rafe. I’ve always liked you and admired your business acumen, but I can no longer continue to work for you. Not under these circumstances. I hope we can still be friends.”

  He rose and extended his hand. Rafe hesitated a moment before also getting to his feet and clasping Nolan’s hand in return.

  “I, too, am sorry it has come to this. Can I ask you one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why? You were happy to continue working under my instructions before. What changed?”

  Nolan gave Rafe a bitter smile. “I met someone.”

  Ten

  Nolan drove away from Holloway with a sense of lightness he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was as if walking away from his contract with Rafiq had freed him from an invisible cell. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed his work, because he had. He’d always loved the cut and thrust of law, and property law had brought its own challenges to keep him sharp. But he’d never truly stopped to consider the peripheral effect of what he was doing. Not until he’d met Raina.

  Would she allow him back into her life? He wanted to tell her he was no longer acting for Samson Oil, but after the way they’d parted, he seriously doubted that he could just pull up to her front door and expect her to see him.

  He activated the hands-free calling in his car and spoke her name. Through t
he speaker he heard the phone at the other end begin to ring.

  Pick up, he silently willed her. Pick up. But after a few short rings, the call was diverted to voice mail. He was disappointed but not surprised. In fact, he wouldn’t have put it past her to have blocked his number altogether.

  Nolan left a message anyway, asking her to please call him when she had a chance. As he ended the call he wondered whether she would call him back. Maybe she’d simply delete his message without listening to it. Well, he’d call her back again. Not too soon, of course. Even he respected that he’d done a serious amount of damage when it came to her trust in him. He had a lot of work to do before he won it back.

  At a bit of a loose end, Nolan decided to drop in on his parents. Maybe his dad needed some wood chopped. He sure hoped so, because he suddenly had a burning urge to work off some energy and wood chopping felt like just the chore for it.

  When he got to his parents’ house, he sat in the car a moment and stared at the home where he’d grown up. He had so many memories from when he was a kid and more from when he’d reached his teens. He still remembered, clear as day, the first time he’d brought Carole over to meet his mom and dad. He and Carole had been in their last year of high school, each with the same goal for their future. Even then they’d hoped to build that future together.

  Would he have changed anything if he could? He’d known Carole for what felt like forever, but he still remembered the day when he’d seen her and everything had changed. It was as if a switch had been thrown in his mind and from that moment forward he’d known she was the one for him. It turned out that he’d been a little slow on the uptake. She’d decided long before that she wanted him, too, and she’d waited patiently, biding her time until he woke up to the fact that they’d been made for one another.