Why on earth was she having dreams about marrying Gage? Three days ago he was an annoying oilman who fought her every suggestion. Just because they’d been able to spend a pleasant evening together didn’t mean they were destined to be married. For all she knew, if she couldn’t get a green card or her contract extended, she’d be back on a plane to Sydney in two months.
That thought didn’t bear thinking about. She had to believe she would be able to stay in Texas.
Now that the seed of possibly staying had been planted, it was going to take a lot for it not to take root. She should start thinking about where she would live. It would be so good if Jack’s land had a house on it. If it was habitable, then she’d turn it into a weekend place. She’d put up with the horrid traffic on a Friday afternoon if she knew she had a retreat down here in Sweet Ridge. It would be the perfect way to end a busy workweek. Not to mention she’d be able to see Macy regularly. The other woman had given Charlotte her contact details when she left the bar the previous evening.
The appeal of having a weekend place had nothing to do with the possibility of seeing Gage on the odd occasion. It was more than likely she would see him in a business environment rather than a casual run-in at the Silver Spurs. Now that she couldn’t sell the land and with the chance she would be staying permanently, it didn’t seem too wrong to make plans to keep the property and not sell it to Gage. Even though he would probably be upset at this change in plans, the land was hers to do with what she wanted. Jack had left it to her, not Gage.
Thinking of Gage reminded her they had a lunch date. If she wanted to see the property before she met up with him, then it was just as well she’d awakened early.
•
Two hours later Charlotte drove down a tree-lined driveway of what was the first piece of real estate she’d ever owned. She had no idea what was up ahead, but she couldn’t wait.
A little farther up, the trees gave way to an expanse of green. “Oh my.” The words escaped out of her.
Perched on a small rise was a quaint two-story white house with black-shuttered windows. Excitement coursed through her veins. Now that she’d seen the property, selling to Gage was even further from her mind. How could she part with something so adorable? There had to be a reason why Jack had left the land to her. Did it mean something?
So many questions she’d never know the answer to. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. There was no point, not if her future wasn’t in Texas.
Parking the car, she got out and walked briskly to the front door. The closer she got she was able to tell the house looked to be in good condition. It could probably do with a coat of paint. But it didn’t look like it was about to collapse around her ears. The wooden porch creaked slightly when she stepped on it. She could picture giving the old timber a breath of life with a light sanding and some new stain. The possibilities were endless.
What about Gage? What about your offer of selling the place to him? You’re not one to go back on your word.
No matter how much she tried to ignore it, the little annoying voice in her head demanded to be heard. It didn’t matter what the voice said. She couldn’t sell the property for a year. By then Gage might have lost interest and moved on to something else in his life.
She reached the front door and stopped.
Shit, the lawyer had told her to contact him if she planned to visit Sweet Ridge. When she’d called about selling the land she hadn’t thought to ask him about the property. If she had, she would’ve found out there was a house and she could’ve arranged to get a key so she could look around.
Maybe there was a spare lying hidden beneath a faux rock. Or above the door frame. Or underneath a welcome mat.
Well, there was no welcome mat, so she ran her hand along the top of the door frame very carefully. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get a splinter. Disappointment filled her when she didn’t come across a spare key. Walking back down the stairs, she inspected the rocks in the overgrown garden. Did one of them look like it didn’t belong?
Nope, they all looked real. A little dejected and mad at herself for not thinking this plan through thoroughly, she headed around the back of the house. Repeating her action of feeling around the back door frame, she met with success.
A key.
Blowing the dust off it, she inserted it into the back door lock. It opened easily. She expected to be greeted by a dust cloud from years of neglect. That didn’t happen. What greeted her was a dust-free mudroom. If she didn’t know better, she’d say someone had cleaned the house the day before.
Buoyed by her find, she walked in and started to investigate. The mudroom led to a large airy kitchen. The countertops were laminate but seemed to be in good condition. Same with the kitchen cabinets. At some stage the kitchen would need to be updated, but for the time being it would provide the most basic of amenities.
She made her way through the kitchen to the living room when she heard what sounded like another car pulling into the driveway.
A sense of unease filled her. She stood in a house in the middle of nowhere. No one from town knew she’d come out here. No one apart from the Cooper family knew she had come to town. She had nothing to defend herself with, unless there happened to be a knife in the kitchen drawer.
Charlotte sidled up to the window. Pushing aside the curtain, she watched a sleek-looking sports car pull up beside her mundane sedan.
She didn’t know much about serial killers, but she was pretty sure they didn’t drive late model sports cars.
A tall figure stepped out.
Gage.
What the hell was he doing here? And what did he have on the end of what looked like a leash—a cat or the smallest dog in history? Gage didn’t strike her as a small dog kind of guy. A German shepherd or a Rottweiler, yes. A frou-frou dog? No way.
She marched over to the front door. Maybe the key in her hand was dual function and unlocked the back and front doors. She’d never know until she tried.
Charlotte inserted the key in the door and turned. The satisfying sound of the lock unbolting echoed around the room.
She opened the door and walked out onto the porch.
“I’m afraid I’ve got nothing for unexpected visitors.”
If she thought she’d surprised him last night at the bar, it was nothing like the incredulous look on his face at hearing her voice.
“Charlotte? What are you doing here?”
“Well, I could say the same to you, seeing as how you’re trespassing on what is essentially my property.”
A flash of black darted out from behind Gage, pulling his arm and jerking him off his feet.
“God dammit, Oil Slick, come back here.”
She laughed as he gave the lead a slight yank and the animal immediately halted in its attempt to escape or chase something. She wasn’t quite sure what the animal was doing.
She traipsed down the steps and ambled over to Gage. She could finally make out it wasn’t a dog at the end of the leash but a cute, black kitten. How could it be a cat, though. Cats didn’t like leashes.
“Is that a cat?”
“No, what it is, is Gavin’s idea of a sick joke. He and Macy talked me into taking the cat Macy hit with her car.”
As she got closer she could see a scar on the back of its leg where the fur had yet to grow over. The cat, with its inquisitive nature, pranced over to where she stood and immediately began sniffing her outstretched hand like a dog.
She smiled up at Gage. “I suspect your cat thinks it’s a dog. I’ve never seen a cat so happy to be attached to a leash.”
Gage bent down and picked up the furry creature. Straight away, it head-butted Gage for a pat. “Tell me about it. But I guess hanging out with Gavin’s dog, Merle, she picked up some of the dog’s habits and mannerisms. All the way down here in the car, she sat quietly on the passenger seat. I had to check a couple of times to make sure she was still breathing.”
“I thought cats hated cars.”
�
�Yeah, and you’d think after being hit by one, Oil Slick here would dislike them.”
“Oil Slick? What sort of name is that for a cat?”
“It’s better than the name they were calling her.”
“What was that?”
“Lady Marceline.”
“Well, it’s prettier than the name you’ve given her.”
“She’s my cat now, I get to name her what I want. Besides”—Gage shrugged—“I thought Oil Slick fit her well. I’m in the oil industry. She’s black and she was almost a slick on the road.”
Charlotte snorted, she couldn’t help it. “What an awful analogy.”
“Maybe, but she likes it.” He tickled the cat around her ears. “Don’t you, Oil Slick?”
The cat purred loudly in response. God, who knew Gage holding a kitten could be so incredibly sexy? What was it about guys holding small puppies and kittens that sent girls into a puddle of hormones? Even if the guys holding them were jerks.
She watched as he kept scratching Oil Slick behind her ears. He might have taken the cat under sufferance, but it seemed he was smitten by the little creature as much as Oil Slick was smitten with Gage. And why wouldn’t Oil Slick be happy? Being held in Gage’s arms last night had felt wonderful. Something Charlotte could easily get used to.
She gave herself a mental shake. “Why are you here?”
He shifted uncomfortably and she went on high alert. What was he up to? Well, whatever it was, he was about to get a rude shock when she told him she couldn’t sell to him. And now that she’d seen the property, she didn’t want to sell it. She knew that wasn’t going to go down very well with him.
He made a production of putting the cat back on the ground.
“You know how I mentioned previously I have older brothers,” she said casually.
Gage looked up. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve observed them lie to my parents. Each one has a different tell. I know you’re up to something. There’s no point trying to lie your way out of it. Just come out and tell me what you’re doing here.”
He huffed out a breath. “Fine. I came here to walk the perimeter again.”
“Again? That would suggest you’ve been here before. Are we talking years ago, or are we talking days ago?”
She wouldn’t have obtained the high levels in her career if she hadn’t been astute and listened carefully to what people around her said. As a woman in a male-oriented industry, she’d learned some men thought she was more eye candy than anything of intellectual use. She’d proven on more than one occasion she wasn’t one to be messed with. And with their past dealings, she would’ve thought Gage would’ve realized that.
“I was here yesterday. I mean, soon it’s going to be my land, so I figured I’d get a head start and see what I needed to do to the property. House looks like it’s in pretty good shape, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. But with regards to the sale of the land…”
Gage’s back stiffened and his head whipped around from his observation of the roof to look at her. All signs indicated he was on high alert, like she’d been a few minutes ago.
“What about the sale?” he asked warily.
She knew Gage’s demeanor was about to change. She spied the cat; maybe she should suggest he pick it up.
“I spoke to Mr. Rodgers, your father’s lawyer. The one who drew up the will.”
“I know who Rodney Rodgers is. He’s been around the family for years.”
“Well, it seems your father put a stipulation into the will.” She paused.
“Oh, for frig’s sake, Charlotte, just spit it out. This isn’t a soap opera. You don’t have to stop for intense pauses and pathetic eyebrow raises to get across that something bad is about to happen. All we need is for dramatic music to start playing and the scene will be complete.”
“I’m not trying to be melodramatic. But I know how much you wanted this land, and, well, I can’t sell it for a year. Your dad put in a twelve-month no sale clause. I couldn’t sell it to you even if I wanted to.” She looked back over to the house. “And I don’t think I want to now.”
“What? You cannot be serious,” he yelled while Oil Slick jumped and meowed in annoyance. She couldn’t believe her eyes—that tiny cat had the power to make him bend down and scoop her up and murmur softly to her.
“I’m sorry, but I am serious. I don’t think I want to sell after all.”
Still holding the cat, he looked at her, his eyes cold with anger and disappointment. “Why would you hold land when Texas isn’t even your home?”
“How do you know it’s not my home?”
“Oh, come on, you’re Australian. You’re probably here on a work visa and work contract. All those things expire.”
“So what if I’m Australian? It doesn’t mean I have to go back and live there. I love it here. And my company wants to hire me permanently, so they’re going to sponsor a green card application for me.”
Yeah, she was bending the truth a little. Looking into the prospect of helping her obtain a green card was a bit different than actually going ahead with it. They’d cautioned her there could be unforeseen obstacles.
But she didn’t want to think there could be issues. She was hoping that by the end of next week her application process would be started.
“I don’t understand any of this,” Gage muttered and put the cat back on the ground. “What the hell was the old man thinking?”
“I can’t answer that. And I truly am sorry, Gage. I told you I liked Sweet Ridge when you came to my office. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed coming here until last night when I pulled into town. Now that I’ve seen the place”—she waved a hand behind her encompassing the house—“I know Jack must have worked out that my true home was here in Texas, and so he gave me one.”
Gage snorted. “Oh, that’s just so lovely, isn’t it? My father, the insightful one. Well, if he was so damn insightful, why did he leave me with twenty-five percent of a company I don’t want to own and have no interest in, as well as a stupid key with some cryptic note? He promised me, dammit, he promised me this land.”
“I’m sorry, Gage. I know it must be frustrating for you to think you were getting something only to have it snatched away.”
“Save it. You know nothing. I don’t think it’s necessary to have lunch now,” he retorted before he stormed toward his car, Oil Slick scampering behind him.
Her heart bled a little as she took in the house and the surrounding land. As much as she might dislike Gage, she didn’t enjoy hurting him. Why did this land mean so much to Gage? Why was he fighting so hard to get it?
Why did Jack leave it to her?
CHAPTER 7
“Geez, cat, will you leave me alone?” Gage plucked Oil Slick off his desk again and put her on the ground. A second later she jumped back up and walked across his keyboard before sitting down beside his left hand. A mass of jumbled letters stood in the middle of an e-mail to a surveyor requesting a further assessment of a piece of land in Louisiana. He erased the letters Oil Slick had thought needed to be included in the e-mail, then quickly finished it. He hit send and closed down the program so the cat couldn’t edit any more e-mails.
Even though the price of oil was at an all-time low, Gage wasn’t going to sit on his laurels. Now he had a little time to investigate potential new sites so that when the price did indeed increase, and it would, he would be ready. Of course, he wouldn’t have to make so many new plans if he’d inherited Dad’s land. The likelihood of him owning it at all seemed impossible now. Especially after his run-in with Charlotte last weekend. He’d not even heard from her during the week with regard to more requests to make his rigs and operations safer on the environment.
He sighed and opened his desk drawer to pull out a fresh notepad and start brainstorming some ideas on possible new drilling sites instead of thinking about what might have been and Charlotte’s e-mail silence.
Gage spied the note and key his father left him, sitting in
the drawer. Instead of grabbing the pad, he picked up those items.
He didn’t need to look at the note. The words were imprinted on his mind.
Son,
The key to everything is happiness.
Was he happy? He liked to think he was. Although he wasn’t entirely happy at the moment. But prior to hearing that he couldn’t buy the land off Charlotte, he’d been pretty damn happy with his lot in life.
And what was this everything his father was going on about? Did he mean achieving all his dreams and goals? Or was Dad talking about personal possessions? That seemed unlikely, considering Jack Cooper didn’t hold stock in owning a lot of useless possessions. If it couldn’t be used or worn, then it wasn’t worth owning.
Oil Slick head-butted his hand. Without thinking, Gage scooped the little cat up and leaned back in his chair. It was clear the kitten was happy by the way she purred against his chest. Oil Slick had everything she needed: food, drink, the middle of his bed.
Making sure he didn’t disturb the cat, he leaned forward and picked up the key. He’d looked through more images on the Internet the previous night to see if he could find something similar. He came up blank. It only reinforced his assumption the key belonged to a custom-made lock.
Only problem was, he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything in his father’s house that would fit the key. Although he hadn’t been into the house for a few years, so Dad could’ve purchased the item the key belonged to and he hadn’t known about it. Perhaps he should take another visit to Sweet Ridge and bug Gavin to let him check out the attic. Maybe the key belonged to something hidden up there.
“So, what do you think Dad means, Oil Slick?” he asked the kitten as he rubbed her ears. “If I find the object the key belongs to, do you think it means I’ll find happiness?”
What he would probably need was admission into the psych ward at the local hospital if anyone found him talking to a cat.
His e-mail pinged, signaling incoming messages. He watched the screen as at least ten e-mails loaded up, but one in particular stood out—both by the person sending it and the subject line it contained. He tried not to get his hopes up just because the subject line read Sweet Ridge Land and the sender was Charlotte. Why was she e-mailing him on a Saturday morning? Maybe she was visiting Sweet Ridge again and had some questions about the land. It certainly wasn’t because she’d had a change of heart and now wanted to sell it to him.
Sweet Texas Fire Page 5
