by Diana Palmer
“You said he was quitting!”
“When he found out I was on my way to you, he took back his resignation,” Cade said, grinning. “Told me he had wondered if I planned to stay stupid all my life.”
“I think we were both a little dense,” she replied. Her eyes devoured him. “I love you,” she whispered intensely.
“I love you,” he replied, bending to kiss her softly, slowly, with tender promise. “Can you live with me on Painted Ridge and give up all you’ve accomplished? If not, I’ll compromise, now that I know you love me.”
“I could give up breathing if you’ll make love to me every night,” she murmured, pressing close. “I hate it here. After the first few months, all the glamour and adventure wore off. I worked like a zombie all day and dreamed all night about how it would be to sleep in your arms and carry your child in my body....”
He drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t say things like that to me, I’ll go crazy.”
“Take me with you,” she said, brushing her hand over his chest and smiling when he trembled. “Let’s go together.”
“In a minute.” He put out the cigarette and leaned over her, his eyes solemn. “I can’t expect you to sacrifice four years of hard work just to raise children. I don’t want you to give up being a person just because you’re my wife. We all need to feel fulfillment, a sense of purpose.”
“Oh, my gosh, I didn’t ever tell you about Jessica Dane!” she burst out, and explained it all, even her behavior at the reception.
He sighed angrily. “Well, I was a damned fool over that, wasn’t I?” he ground out. He kissed her gently. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“It’s all right. You didn’t know.” She touched his mouth. “So you see, I could work for Jessica and never leave the house except to supervise some seamstresses once in a while. And I’ve always preferred designing to modeling, anyway.”
“Lucky me,” he said. He grinned. “If we have little girls, you can make party dresses for them, too.”
She laughed. “Not for the little boys, though. I don’t want my sons parading around in petticoats.” She leaned forward and kissed him lazily. “My throat’s sore from talking. Teach me some more things you learned in that book of yours.”
He chuckled. “There’s just one more little thing to talk about. I had Hank promise to make a few phone calls for me after daylight.”
“Did you?” she murmured, nibbling at his lips.
“I had him invite the minister over for next Saturday.”
“That’s nice,” she whispered. Her hands smoothed over his long, tanned body.
“Plus about fifty other people.”
“Um,” she murmured. Her hands moved to his hair-roughened chest and she pressed against him. “That’s nice, too.”
“For the wedding.”
She drew away. “Next Saturday?”
“Why wait?” he asked, biting at her mouth. “I sure was hoping you’d say yes, Abby. All the way here I had nightmares about trying to line up a bride and groom at such short notice if you refused me....”
“Cade Alexander McLaren, what am I going to do with you?” she asked sharply.
“Lie down here and I’ll show you,” he murmured with a laugh, easing her onto her back. “This is the best chapter of all....”
Abby smiled as she met his hungry mouth. When they got home to Painted Ridge, she had some heavy reading to do.
* * * * *
LIONHEARTED
To the FAO Schwartz gang on Peachtree Road, Atlanta,
and at the Internet Customer Service Department.
Thanks!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Prologue
Leo Hart felt alone in the world. The last of his bachelor brothers, Rey, had gotten married and moved out of the house almost a year ago. That left Leo, alone, with an arthritic housekeeper who came in two days a week and threatened to retire every day. If she did, Leo would be left without a biscuit to his name, or even a hope of getting another one unless he went to a restaurant every morning for breakfast. Considering his work schedule, that was impractical.
He leaned back in the swivel chair at his desk in the office he now shared with no one. He was happy for his brothers. Most of them had families now, except newly married Rey. Simon and Tira had two little boys. Cag and Tess had a boy. Corrigan and Dorie had a boy and a baby girl. When he looked back, Leo realized that women had been a missing commodity in his life of late. It was late September. Roundup was just over, and there had been so much going on at the ranch, with business, that he’d hardly had time for a night out. He was feeling it.
Even as he considered his loneliness, the phone rang.
“Why don’t you come over for supper?” Rey asked when he picked up the receiver.
“Listen,” Leo drawled, grinning, “you don’t invite your brother over to dinner on your honeymoon.”
“We got married after Christmas last year,” Rey pointed out.
“Like I said, you’re still on your honeymoon,” came the amused reply. “Thanks. But I’ve got too much to do.”
“Work doesn’t make up for a love life.”
“You’d know,” Leo chuckled.
“Okay. But the invitation’s open, whenever you want to accept it.”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
“Sure.”
The line went dead. Leo put the receiver down and stretched hugely, bunching the hard muscles in his upper arms. He was the boss as much as his brothers on their five ranch properties, but he did a lot of the daily physical labor that went with cattle raising, and his tall, powerful body was evidence of it. He wondered sometimes if he didn’t work that hard to keep deep-buried needs at bay. In his younger days, women had flocked around him, and he hadn’t been slow to accept sensual invitations. But he was in his thirties now, and casual interludes were no longer satisfying.
He’d planned to have a quiet weekend at home, but Marilee Morgan, a close friend of Janie Brewster’s, had cajoled him into taking her up to Houston for dinner and to see a ballet she had tickets for. He was partial to ballet, and Marilee explained that she couldn’t drive herself because her car was in the shop. She was easy on the eyes, and she was sophisticated. Not that Leo was tempted to let himself be finagled into any sort of intimacy with her. He didn’t want her carrying tales of his private life to Janie, who had an obvious and uncomfortable crush on him.
He knew that Marilee would never have asked him to take her any place in Jacobsville, Texas, because it was a small town and news of the date would inevitably get back to Janie. It might help show the girl that Leo was a free agent, but it wouldn’t help his friendship with Fred Brewster to know that Leo was playing fast and loose with Janie’s best friend. Some best friend, he thought privately.
But taking Marilee out would have one really good consequence—it would get him out of a dinner date at the Brewsters’ house. He and Fred Brewster were friends and business associates, and he enjoyed the time he spent with the older man. Well, except for two members of his family, he amended darkly. He didn’t like Fred’s sister, Lydia. She was a busybody who had highfalutin ideas. Fortunately, she was hardly ever around and she didn’t live with Fred. He had mixed feelings about Fred’s daughter, Janie, who was twenty-one and bristling with psychology advice after her graduation from a junior college in that subject. She’d made Cag furious with her analyses of his food preferences, and Leo was becoming adept at avoiding invitations that would put him i
n her line of fire.
Not that she was bad looking. She had long, thick, light brown hair and a neat little figure. But she also had a crush on Leo, which was very visible. He considered her totally unacceptable as a playmate for a man his age, and he knocked back her attempts at flirting with lazy skill. He’d known her since she was ten and wearing braces on her teeth. It was hard to get that image out of his mind.
Besides, she couldn’t cook. Her rubber chicken dinners were infamous locally, and her biscuits could be classified as lethal weapons.
Thinking about those biscuits made him pick up the phone and dial Marilee.
She was curt when she picked up the phone, but the minute he spoke, her voice softened.
“Well, hello, Leo,” she said huskily.
“What time do you want me to pick you up Saturday night?”
There was a faint hesitation. “You won’t, uh, mention this to Janie?”
“I have as little contact with Janie as I can. You know that,” he said impatiently.
“Just checking,” she teased, but she sounded worried. “I’ll be ready to leave about six.”
“Suppose I pick you up at five and we’ll have supper in Houston before the ballet?”
“Wonderful! I’ll look forward to it. See you then.”
“See you.”
He hung up, but picked up the receiver again and dialed the Brewsters’ number.
As luck would have it, Janie answered.
“Hi, Janie,” he said pleasantly.
“Hi, Leo,” she replied breathlessly. “Want to talk to Dad?”
“You’ll do,” he replied. “I have to cancel for dinner Saturday. I’ve got a date.”
There was the faintest pause. It was almost imperceptible. “I see.”
“Sorry, but it’s a long-standing one,” he lied. “I can’t get out of it. I forgot when I accepted your dad’s invitation. Can you give him my apologies?”
“Of course,” she told him. “Have a good time.”
She sounded strange. He hesitated. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing at all! Nice talking to you, Leo. Bye.”
Janie Brewster hung up and closed her eyes, sick with disappointment. She’d planned a perfect menu. She’d practiced all week on a special chicken dish that was tender and succulent. She’d practiced an exquisite crème brûlée, as well, which was Leo’s favorite dessert. She could even use the little tool to caramelize the sugar topping, which had taken a while to perfect. All that work, and for nothing. She’d have been willing to bet that Leo hadn’t had a date for that night already. He’d made one deliberately, to get out of the engagement.
She sat down beside the hall table, her apron almost stiff with flour, her face white with dustings of it, her hair disheveled. She was anything but the picture of a perfect date. And wasn’t it just her luck? For the past year, she’d mounted a real campaign to get Leo to notice her. She’d flirted with him shamelessly at Micah Steele’s wedding to Callie Kirby, until a stabbing scowl had turned her shy. It had angered him that she’d caught the bouquet Callie had thrown. It had embarrassed her that he glared so angrily at her. Months later, she’d tried, shyly, every wile she had on him, with no success. She couldn’t cook and she was not much more than a fashion plate, according to her best friend, Marilee, who was trying to help her catch Leo. Marilee had plenty of advice, things Leo had mentioned that he didn’t like about Janie, and Janie was trying her best to improve in the areas he’d mentioned. She was even out on the ranch for the first time in her life, trying to get used to horses and cattle and dust and dirt. But if she couldn’t get Leo to the house to show him her new skills, she didn’t have a lot of hope.
“Who was that on the phone?” Hettie, their housekeeper, called from the staircase. “Was it Mr. Fred?”
“No. It was Leo. He can’t come Saturday night. He’s got a date.”
“Oh.” Hettie smiled sympathetically. “There will be other dinners, darlin’.”
“Of course there will,” Janie said and smiled back. She got out of the chair. “Well, I’ll just make it for you and me and Dad,” she said, with disappointment plain in her voice.
“It isn’t as if Leo has any obligation to spend his weekends with us, just because he does a lot of business with Mr. Fred,” Hettie reminded her gently. “He’s a good man. A little old for you, though,” she added hesitantly.
Janie didn’t answer her. She just smiled and walked back into the kitchen.
* * *
Leo showered, shaved, dressed to the hilt and got into the new black Lincoln sports car he’d just bought. Next year’s model, and fast as lightning. He was due for a night on the town. And missing Janie’s famous rubber chicken wasn’t going to disappoint him one bit.
His conscience did nag him, though, oddly. Maybe it was just hearing Janie’s friend, Marilee, harp on the girl all the time. In the past week, she’d started telling him some disturbing things that Janie had said about him. He was going to have to be more careful around Janie. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. He had no interest in her at all. She was just a kid.
He glanced in the lighted mirror over the steering wheel before he left the sprawling Hart Ranch. He had thick blond-streaked brown hair, a broad forehead, a slightly crooked nose and high cheekbones. But his teeth were good and strong, and he had a square jaw and a nice wide mouth. He wasn’t all that handsome, but compared to most of his brothers, he was a hunk. He chuckled at that rare conceit and closed the mirror. He was rich enough that his looks didn’t matter.
He didn’t fool himself that Marilee would have found him all that attractive without his bankroll. But she was pretty and he didn’t mind taking her to Houston and showing her off, like the fishing trophies he displayed on the walls of his study. A man had to have his little vanities, he told himself. But he thought about Janie’s disappointment when he didn’t show up for supper, her pain if she ever found out her best friend was stabbing her in the back, and he hated the guilt he felt.
He put on his seat belt, put the car in gear and took off down the long driveway. He didn’t have any reason to feel guilty, he told himself firmly. He was a bachelor, and he’d never done one single thing to give Janie Brewster the impression that he wanted to be the man in her life. Besides, he’d been on his own too long. A cultural evening in Houston was just the thing to cure the blues.
1
Leo Hart was half out of humor. It had been a long week as it was, and now he was faced with trying to comfort his neighbor Fred Brewster who’d just lost the prize young Salers bull that Leo had wanted to buy. The bull was the offspring of a grand champion whose purchase had figured largely in Leo’s improved cross-breeding program. He felt as sad as Fred seemed to.
“He was fine yesterday,” Fred said heavily, wiping sweat off his narrow brow as the two men surveyed the bull in the pasture. The huge creature was lying dead on its side, not a mark on it. “I’m not the only rancher who’s ever lost a prize bull, but these are damned suspicious circumstances.”
“They are,” Leo agreed grimly, his dark eyes surveying the bull. “It’s just a thought, but you haven’t had a problem with an employee, have you? Christabel Gaines said they just had a bull die of unknown causes. This happened after they fired a man named Jack Clark a couple of weeks ago. He’s working for Duke Wright now, driving a cattle truck.”
“Judd Dunn said it wasn’t unknown causes that killed the bull, it was bloat. Judd’s a Texas Ranger,” Fred reminded him. “If there was sabotage on the ranch he co-owns with Christabel, I think he’d know it. No, Christabel had that young bull in a pasture with a lot of clover and she hadn’t primed him on hay or tannin-containing forage beforehand. She won’t use antibiotics, either, which would have helped prevent trouble. Even so, you can treat bloat if you catch it in time. It was bad luck t
hat they didn’t check that pasture, but Christabel’s shorthanded and she’s back at the vocational school full-time, too. Not much time to check on livestock.”
“They had four other bulls that were still alive,” Leo pointed out, scowling.
Fred shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t like clover, or weren’t in the same pasture.” He shook his head. “I’m fairly sure their bull died of bloat. That’s what Judd thinks, anyway. He says Christabel’s unsettled by having those movie people coming next month to work out a shooting schedule on the ranch and she’s the only one who thinks there was foul play.” Fred rubbed a hand through his silver hair. “But to answer your question—yes, I did wonder about a disgruntled ex-employee, but I haven’t fired anybody in over two years. So you can count out vengeance. And it wasn’t bloat. My stock gets antibiotics.”
“Don’t say that out loud,” Leo chuckled. “If the Tremaynes hear you, there’ll be a fight.”
“It’s my ranch. I run it my way.” Fred looked sadly toward the bull again. He was having financial woes the likes of which he’d never faced. He was too proud to tell Leo the extent of it. “This bull is a hell of a loss right now, too, with my breeding program under way. He wasn’t insured, so I can’t afford to replace him. Well, not just yet,” he amended, because he didn’t want Leo to think he was nearly broke.
“That’s one problem we can solve,” Leo replied. “I’ve got that beautiful Salers bull I bought two years ago, but it’s time I replaced him. I’d have loved to have had yours, but while I’m looking for a replacement, you can borrow mine for your breeding season.”
“Leo, I can’t let you do that,” Fred began, overwhelmed by the offer. He knew very well what that bull’s services cost.
Leo held up a big hand and grinned. “Sure you can. I’ve got an angle. I get first pick of your young bulls next spring.”
