Texas Cinderella

by Victoria Pade

  Of course it was his family who had to be next to know.

  But right after that?

  For the third time it was Tanya who made an instant appearance in his head.

  Because Tanya was really the only person he wanted to tell….

  “The engagement is off? Oh, Tate…”

  Tate had waited until everyone was finishing dessert Tuesday evening to make his announcement. Not that everyone was there. His mother, Eleanor, was at the head of the table and her response to the news was rife with disappointment and disapproval. His older brother Blake was sitting across from him, and one of his younger twin sisters, Penny, was to his right. But even without the rest of the family there, Tate knew word would spread to Penny’s twin, Paige, and to his youngest brother, Charlie, and he hadn’t wanted to delay telling his mother until Paige and Charlie were around, as well.

  “These breakups are never for good,” Blake said with an annoyed sigh.

  “It’s time the breakups stop,” Eleanor said. “I know you’ve been in a bad way since we lost Buzz, Tate. But I honestly think the path out of it is to finally do what you should have done long ago—stop this seesaw you and Katie have always been on and take a definitive step into your future with the woman you know you’re going to end up with eventually.”

  “In other words, little brother,” Blake said, “it’s time for you to grow up.”

  Tate could have taken issue with that but he didn’t. “What it is time for,” he said instead, “is for Katie and me to get off the seesaw once and for all.”

  “What can you possibly be thinking?” Blake demanded, surprising Tate with a reaction that was stronger than Tate had expected from his brother. Blake should have had enough on his mind with the current business problems and trying to find the Santa Magdalena diamond to make this low on his list of concerns. “Why don’t you open your eyes and take a look at what you have in Katie?” Blake continued. “You keep going back to her—you must recognize on some level how terrific she is. What will it take for you to just accept that you aren’t going to do better?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Blake,” Tate said calmly. “I do know how terrific Katie is. But when there isn’t that…certain something…between two people, you can be terrific, she can be terrific, it just doesn’t make any difference. And I’m sure you think this was my idea, but the truth is, it came about at her instigation.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what I told you the other night?” Blake said with disgust. “You took her for granted, you neglected her and now she’s called things off.”

  “Ultimately, it was a mutual decision,” Tate said, borrowing from Katie. “At her instigation, but a mutual decision. We both agreed that all these years have been more about what the families wanted, what the families pressured us into, and not about our feelings for each other. But the bottom line—” Tate said, thinking that his brother was a bottom-line kind of person “—is that we don’t have the kind of feelings that end in marriage. At least not a happy, lasting marriage. And since—for some reason—you seem to have adopted the role of Katie’s champion, isn’t that what you’d want for her? To be married to someone she’s actually in love with and has a chance to be happy with for the rest of her life?”

  “It goes without saying that that’s what I’d want for her. For you both,” Blake added impatiently.

  “Well, we’ve come to the conclusion that that isn’t what we’d have together.”

  “That’s the conclusion you’ve come to this week. Or this month,” Eleanor said as if she was at her wits’ end with him. “But next week or next month, you’ll be telling us you’re back together again. Just stop this on and off!”

  “We have stopped it, only we’ve stopped it at off,” Tate said, concealing how much he wanted this to end because he was itching to get to Tanya to go through the family albums the way they’d planned. “This is it for Katie and me, whether the families like it or not,” he concluded firmly.

  “And families shouldn’t enter into a person’s relationships,” Penny said then, chiming in for the first time.

  Tate appreciated his younger sister’s support but it surprised him, too. Penny was the quieter, more introverted of the twins. She didn’t often venture into a family fray unless she had to.

  “Talk to us when you have a relationship that the family enters into, Penny,” Blake said sardonically.

  “That’s what I’m worried about—the family entering into my relationship,” Penny muttered under her breath and with some defensiveness that seemed out of place.

  “What does that mean?” Blake asked with a chuckle, as if Penny were six years old rather than twenty-six.

  Tate saw how much that irked Penny—she sat up straighter, her lips pursed. Then she said, “I’ve…”

  She stopped herself as if to gauge her words.

  “It’s okay, Penny,” Tate said. “I appreciate that you’re on my side, but you don’t have to fight my battles.”

  “It isn’t only your battle,” his sister answered as if she’d just that moment come to some kind of decision.

  Then she made an announcement of her own. “I’ve been seeing Jason Foley.”

  That came as far, far more of a shock than Tate’s broken engagement and brought several moments of stunned silence before Blake broke it.

  “Jason Foley?” he repeated in disbelief.

  “What do you mean you’re seeing him? As a friend?” Eleanor asked in a controlled tone.

  “More than friends,” Penny said.

  “You’re dating?” their mother pressed, beginning to sound alarmed.

  Penny hesitated. She was a private person and Tate realized this wasn’t easy for her.

  But then she said, “Yes, we’re dating.”

  “That’s bad, Penny,” Blake decreed. “You know the Foleys hate us, that they’ve been convinced for decades that we cheated them out of the land, and now with the potential that the diamond could be—”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Penny insisted.

  “Don’t kid yourself!” Blake said in a louder voice. “Don’t you think it’s just a little suspicious that now—of all times—there’s a Foley sniffing around? They’re looking for a way in, Penny! For information about the diamond!”

  “You haven’t actually given me any information about the diamond except to enlist me to design jewelry that will tie into it if you find it.”

  “I don’t want the Foleys knowing even that much. That’s what they’re after—any crumb they can get their hands on and use!” Blake shouted.

  Tate was aware of how invested Blake was in the business, in finding the diamond, in using it to salvage McCord’s Jewelers. He knew his brother was under pressure he wasn’t willing to share unless it was absolutely necessary because Blake always believed he was the best person to shoulder the load. And Tate thought that because of all that, it didn’t occur to Blake how insulting to Penny it was to imply that Jason Foley was interested in her only as some kind of ploy. Even though Tate agreed that it was a possibility.

  “We don’t know that that’s why Jason Foley is seeing Penny, Blake,” he said.

  “I know nothing good can come of a McCord getting involved with a Foley.”

  “Charlie came of it,” Penny said, using the information their mother had only recently shared with them that the youngest McCord was the result of an affair Eleanor had had with Rex Foley twenty-two years earlier.

  But it was information that had caused all of Eleanor’s children to give her a wide berth ever since. To Tate’s knowledge, none of them had discussed it with their mother in any depth, even since Eleanor’s return that morning to take care of the last details of the Labor Day party. So Tate could hardly believe his ears when Penny used that information for her own purposes now.

  Glancing at his mother, Tate found her unruffled by it, though. Instead, venturing delicately into the subject that still wasn’t easy for any of them to ac
cept, Eleanor said, “Yes, Penny, Charlie did come of my involvement with a Foley. But that’s why I can speak from experience and tell you that a tie between a Foley and a McCord is a rocky road.”

  “We just don’t want you to get hurt, Penny,” Tate added.

  “That’s true,” Eleanor confirmed.

  “What’s true,” Penny countered, “is that whatever is between two families shouldn’t interfere with what might—or might not—be between two individual people. Not when it comes to you and Katie, Tate, and not when it comes to whoever I’m with, either. Jason and I are seeing each other and it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m a McCord and he’s a Foley. It doesn’t have anything to do with an old feud, or with land that changed hands a gazillion years ago, or with a diamond. It’s in spite of all that and it’s only about Jason and me.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Eleanor said with worry lines creasing her brow.

  “I’m telling you,” Blake seemed unable to keep from reiterating, “you don’t know what the Foleys could be up to.”

  “It may be perfectly innocent,” Tate contributed. “Jason Foley may just be carried away by how terrific you are. But be careful—that’s all we’re asking. When it comes to a Foley, be really careful….”

  Chapter Six

  T ate was sitting at one of the poolside tables when Tanya came out from the wooded path after leaving her mother’s cottage Tuesday night. The moment she stepped through the clearing in the bushes and magnolia trees she saw that he was watching for her and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

  Why that sent something gooshy through her, she didn’t know, but that bare hint of him being pleased to see her was all it took to heat her from the inside out.

  Then his gaze went from her free-falling hair, down the teal T-shirt she was wearing to her flowing wide-leg slacks as she crossed to him. His smile grew bigger. And that internal heat took on a rosy, sensual glow.

  Stop it! she ordered herself, trying to keep uppermost in her mind that in spite of the fact that it was late evening, that they were suddenly together again, under a clear moonlit sky, this was about work. Only work…

  “Finally!” Tate muttered when she reached him, before she’d even said hello.

  “You just called me five minutes ago to tell me to come over,” she said, thinking he was making a comment about having to wait for her.

  He shook his head. “Finally we can get to what we had planned tonight.”

  “Ah,” Tanya said as she took the chair nearest him.

  What they had planned tonight was to look through his family albums. And since there was a stack of them on the table, she sat where they would each be able to see them. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she wanted to sit close to him. Want to or not, she swore that she wasn’t going to let this evolve into anything more than doing her job tonight.

  “I brought the wine I started on at dinner. Will you have some?” Tate asked then, picking up the open bottle and refreshing his own glass while he indicated the clean glass beside it.

  “This is supposed to be work for me,” Tanya reminded them both, holding up her notepad and pen to prove it.

  “Sometimes mixing business and pleasure is a good thing,” he enticed.

  “I hope that isn’t your philosophy when you do surgery,” she countered.

  That merely made him laugh and question her again by holding the bottle higher.

  She shouldn’t. This was work.

  And yet she heard herself say “Maybe just one glass.”

  She set her pad and pen on the table as he poured, using his averted glance as an opportunity to give him the once-over. The pool area where they were sitting was well lit and she could tell that he’d dressed for dinner and then undone some of it for this. There wasn’t a suitcoat or tie anywhere around, but he had on gray slacks and a crisp white shirt with the long sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was also clean shaven, the scent of his cologne just barely wafted to her and his slightly longish hair was neatly combed.

  Would it have helped if he’d looked grungy? she asked herself, knowing her vow to keep this out of the realm of another datelike evening with him was already weakening.

  But somehow she doubted that the way he was dressed made any difference. The man just seemed to hold an appeal for her that she didn’t fully understand. Maybe he’d unearthed some kind of deep-seated attraction to unavailable men that she hadn’t known she possessed.

  But he was unavailable—in so many ways—and she told herself not to forget that.

  When the wine was poured and the bottle replaced on the table, Tate handed her her glass and lounged back in his chair with a deep sigh of what sounded like relief.

  “Rough day?” Tanya asked as she took a sip of the wine.

  “Rough dinner,” he amended.

  There was talk among the staff about the tense state the family had been in since rumors had begun to surface that Tate’s mother had announced that her youngest son, Charlie, was a Foley. None of the staff knew any of the details, but they did know that Charlie had almost instantly gone off to settle back into college early, and that Eleanor had taken some time away herself.

  Tanya assumed that tensions over Charlie’s paternity were still the cause of the rough dinner, but Tate didn’t offer her any explanation as she took another sip of wine.

  “So, how far back would you like to go?” Tate asked with a nod toward the albums.

  Good, he is getting right down to business, Tanya told herself to ward off a ridiculous sense of disappointment that he wasn’t bothering with small talk tonight.

  “I did some background research today and thought about how I’d like to do this,” she said, trying to sound purely professional. “I’d like a clear picture of the McCords and your family history first. Once that’s accomplished, I can get into the story of the diamond and the treasure and of the feud with the Foleys, and the land and silver mines that changed hands, too. But for tonight, how about starting with just the family stuff?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “And since it looks as though the feud between the Foleys and the McCords began with Gavin Foley and Harry McCord—”

  “My grandfather.”

  “—that seems like the furthest we need to go in McCord family history.”

  “Okay, Harry McCord it is,” Tate said, sitting up and reaching for the albums. He discarded two of the more ragged ones before settling on one that displayed old, poor-quality black-and-white photographs of a man who bore a clear resemblance to him. “These are of my grandfather in front of the silver mines that launched the McCord fortune and, ultimately, McCord’s Jewelers,” he informed her.

  Tanya flipped through page after page, noting that there were five mines, all of them with a large stone at their entrance, each with a petroglyph carved into it to name it. The Turtle mine. The Eagle mine. The Lizard. The Tree. The Bow.

  “Can I have a few of these pictures to use? I’ll make sure they’re returned,” Tanya said when she’d reached the end of that album.

  “I don’t see why not,” Tate agreed, taking them out and giving them to her.

  “So, was your father Harry McCord’s only child?” Tanya asked then.

  “No. My father was the oldest son. The younger—my Uncle Joseph—lives in Italy. You must know Gabby? My cousin?”

  Gabriella McCord was a famous model and it was nearly impossible to pick up any magazine, newspaper or tabloid and not find her face on the cover. So Tanya felt a little stupid for not having considered from where on the family tree Gabby McCord had sprouted. She didn’t admit it, though.

  “I know of her,” Tanya said. “The whole world knows of her. But it isn’t as if she was ever introduced to the housekeeper’s daughter on one of her visits, and I had no idea how she fit into the family—I guess I’d never really thought about it.”

  “Well, Gabby’s father is Joseph. Joseph married an Italian actress descended from roy
alty over there. They made their home in Italy, and Joseph oversees and manages the European branches of McCord’s Jewelers. My grandmother died in childbirth with Joseph.” Tate found a picture of his grandmother and a few of Joseph growing up and as an adult, showing them to Tanya.

  “So Harry McCord raised Devon—your father—and your uncle on his own?”

  “That’s the story. My father said one of his earliest memories was of going out to the mines with my grandfather, and that was where he and Joseph spent most of their time growing up—if they weren’t in school, they were working alongside my grandfather.”

  Tate moved on to the next album, flipping through more shots of the brothers Devon and Joseph until he reached one of them with Harry McCord, standing outside of McCord’s Jewelers.

  “That was the first store,” Tate said.

  Tanya took a close look at the nondescript glass storefront that could hardly compare to the current McCord’s Jewelers. Now they were known for their marble entrances, their plush lavender and gray carpeting, their mirrored cases and velvet displays, their leather club chairs for shopping in comfort. And their new customer-pampering campaign had only increased the level of luxury that was a world of difference from that initial jewelry shop.

  “You’ve come a long way,” she observed.

  “That was my father’s doing. And Blake’s. I take no credit for what goes on with the jewelry business.”

  “I’d like to use this picture of the original store.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Tanya took it to put with the others she was collecting.

  Then they moved on to the next album. It contained pictures of Devon McCord’s wedding to Tate’s mother, the beautiful, blond Eleanor Holden.

  “Huh,” Tanya said as she glanced through them.

  “What?”

  “Your mother is the most somber-looking bride I think I’ve ever seen, and your father looks more victorious than smitten.”

  “That seems about right,” Tate said, leaning in for a closer look and giving Tanya a better whiff of his cologne that was more heady than the wine she was slowly sipping.