by Judy Duarte
The other knocked on the window of the teenage driver’s door. When the boy glanced up, the cowboy hollered, “Dammit, kid. You passed us two miles back, driving like a bat out of hell. Didn’t anyone tell you to tie down a load? Get your butt out here and help us get this cleaned up.”
Thank goodness. Still holding her smartphone, Shannon got out of her car, made her way around the hay bales and walked to the bridge, hoping to get a few bars and to have better reception there. After a couple of tries, she finally reached Sam Darnell, the Rocking C foreman. At least, it sounded like Sam’s voice through the crackling on the line.
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident on the county road,” she said. “No one was hurt, but I’m going to be late to work.” When Sam didn’t respond and the crackling stopped, she lowered her phone and glanced at the display. No Service.
She let out a ragged sigh. The single bar she’d seen moments earlier had completely disappeared. Hopefully Sam got the message and would pass it on.
A few minutes later, as one of the cowboys began to wave the cars through, Shannon slid behind the wheel and started her engine. Finally, she was on her way. Yet while the ranch was only two miles away, she was still twenty minutes late when she pulled into the yard.
As she parked near the barn—which Sam and a couple of hands had painted red last week—she glanced at the clouds that loomed on the northern horizon. They weren’t dark yet, which was good. Whenever heavy rain hit the valley, the bridge washed out, making it impossible for vehicles to get in or out of the ranch for days at a time.
The TV weatherman had said the first incoming storm had stalled and probably wouldn’t hit until tomorrow or the next day. But predictions were sometimes wrong. Either way, she had a well-stocked medical supply room and could handle more than basic first aid. However, a serious accident or illness would require a trip to the Brighton Valley Medical Center, which was forty-five minutes away.
She’d no more than started toward the back entrance of the sprawling ranch house when a late-model white Lexus pulled up beside her and parked.
That was odd. The ranch owners were out of town for the next few weeks. And the elderly residents, as well as the ranch hands who worked at the Rocking C, didn’t get many visitors, especially arriving in fancy vehicles.
By the time the driver, a handsome man in his early-to midthirties, got out of the car, her curiosity had grown to the point that even though she needed to get inside, she couldn’t seem to move her feet.
He wore an expensive suit and fancy loafers—Italian leather, no doubt. At well over six feet tall, with blue eyes and dark hair that must have cost him a pretty penny to have cut at an expensive salon, he was more than attractive. In fact, he’d be drop-dead gorgeous if he’d soften his expression with a smile.
Who was he? And what business did he have at the ranch? There was only one way to find out.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“That depends. Who are you?”
Shannon, who’d had her fill of frustration for the day, bristled at his rude response and crossed her arms. “Why don’t you go first?”
His lips curled ever so slightly into a smile, and his expression mellowed a bit, as if he might actually respect her spunk. “I’m Blake Darnell, Sam’s nephew.”
The California attorney? Shannon had heard about him. He rarely visited Sam and had left the poor man to nearly waste away in the nursing facility in town.
Darnell arched a dark brow. “And you’re...?”
She let the question dangle a moment before introducing herself. “I’m Shannon Cramer.”
His gaze swept over her, traveling from head to toe and back again. He seemed to be assessing her and the pink scrubs she wore.
“A nurse’s aide?” he asked.
“An RN,” she corrected.
Darnell nodded, then walked to the back of the Lexus, opened the trunk and pulled out a suitcase.
What in the world was he doing with that? Surely he didn’t plan to stay here. Maybe he came to bring some of Sam’s belongings to him.
Before Shannon could question him, Aunt Joy stepped out onto the porch and met Shannon the way she usually did—with a cup of coffee. “Here you go. Fixed just the way you like it—with a splash of cream and a dash of sugar.”
“Thanks.” Shannon took the mug in both hands, letting the heat warm her fingers from the crisp autumn chill.
“There’s pumpkin bread to go with that,” Joy said, her voice light, her smile refreshing.
It was nice to see her aunt happy again. Her second husband had left her in dire financial straits after wiping out the nest egg she’d once had. When most people were thinking of retiring, Joy had had to find a job. But since she’d been out of the workforce for more than forty years, she had no way of supporting herself. Fortunately, the Rocking C had needed a housekeeper/cook, and Shannon had told the owners that Joy was the perfect candidate.
And that was true, since Joy’s most notable qualifications were her culinary skills and an innate ability to make a house a home. So it had worked out beautifully for everyone involved.
Then Joy met Sam Darnell, who soon put a sparkle in her eyes and a spring in her steps. There was a happy glimmer in Sam’s eyes, too. It was heartwarming to see.
“I’m glad you’re finally here,” Joy told Shannon. “Darlene’s eager to go home.”
“I know.” Shannon took a sip of coffee. “It couldn’t be helped. There was a little incident on the road near the bridge.”
Joy turned to Darnell and offered him a warm smile, which he didn’t return. Instead, he seemed to assess her, but in a far more critical manner than he’d studied Shannon just moments earlier.
Why was that? Joy was one of the sweetest women on the planet, which was one reason her jerk of an ex had been able to take advantage of her.
But then again, Shannon knew that Sam’s nephew had called him yesterday, and the foreman had refused to talk to him.
The California attorney cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose either of you can tell me where I can find Sam.”
“He went out to check a leaky pump in the south pasture,” Joy said, her voice soft and kind. “But he should be back shortly.”
At nearly eighty years old, Sam Darnell could well afford to retire and take life easy, but he thrived on being useful. And he certainly was. The Rocking C had been a struggling cattle ranch when Chloe Martinez had inherited it. There were back taxes and a second mortgage to pay. But Sam, with his wealth of knowledge and experience, had begun to turn things around in a few short months. They certainly weren’t out of the woods yet, but the sweet old foreman had told them not to worry, that everything would be okay in time.
For that reason, Sam reminded Shannon of her father, a good and loving man she’d lost way too soon.
“If you don’t mind,” Darnell said, as he strode toward the front porch toting his fancy suitcase, “I’ll sit here and wait for him.”
Actually, Shannon did mind. A lot. But she bit her tongue out of courtesy to Sam. She adored the former rancher, who’d become a friend. And if he married her aunt, he’d become a part of the family.
In fact, if Sam and Joy actually did decide to tie the knot, Shannon might have to “accidentally” misplace Blake’s invitation.
Because while she couldn’t think of anything she’d like more than to help Joy plan the perfect wedding. Sam’s nephew was a stuffy, conceited tool, and she wasn’t looking forward to adding him as a relative!
Chapter Two
The two women continued to stand in the yard, gaping at Blake as though he’d just dropkicked a puppy. But then again, who knew what his uncle might have told them about him?
At first, when the older woman wearing a yellow apron walked out of the house carrying a mug of steaming coffee, he’d thought she might be the one who’d been sweet-talking Sam. She wore glasses and wasn’t that close to him, so he couldn’t see her eye color. But she was a brunette, which he suspe
cted was due to a recent visit to a local beauty salon. She was also in her mid-to late-sixties, so she was definitely what Sam would call “younger.” Still, while she was pleasant enough to look at, Blake wouldn’t consider her “sexy.”
On the other hand, the nurse had big green eyes the color of new spring grass. Her glossy dark hair was a tumble of curls that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Even while wearing an unflattering pair of pink hospital scrubs she could stoke a dying ember in a man’s soul.
But surely she wasn’t the one his uncle had been talking about. Besides, it was also a sure bet that she couldn’t have a niece old enough to attend medical school. Still, she was a young brunette and definitely sexy...
Blake shook off that arousing but unwelcome thought as quickly as it struck.
Besides, she’d slapped her hands on her hips and was drilling into him with a critical gaze. It was clear to him that she wasn’t sharing the love.
Maybe he’d better take a new tack, sidestepping her and starting at the top. So he asked, “Who’s in charge here?”
Shannon stood as tall as her petite stature would allow and lifted her chin. “That would be me. I’m the head nurse.”
Seriously? She might look ready for battle, but she was just a bit of a thing—not much taller than five feet. She was also in her early-to midtwenties, and the way he saw it, she was too young to be running a retirement home, even if his uncle was in charge of the ranch.
In spite of her obvious annoyance, she had pretty features—a heart-shaped face, expressive eyes, thick dark lashes and a scatter of freckles across her nose.
She wasn’t wearing any makeup to highlight her physical attributes, but she really didn’t need to. Her beauty was natural and wholesome.
If he had to guess, he’d suspect that she had a nice shape, although those baggy pants and that boxy top hid it well.
Of course, none of that mattered. Blake wasn’t about to be sidetracked from the task he’d set out to do. And since he wanted to get to the bottom of the mess his uncle had gotten caught up in, he couldn’t afford to aggravate anyone who might be able to help him, particularly the two ladies standing before him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” the older woman said to Shannon, “I’ll let Darlene know you’re here and that she’s free to leave.”
Then she turned away and entered the house, leaving Blake and the nurse alone.
He had to admit that he hadn’t put his best foot forward when he first arrived, but there was a reason for that. He hadn’t slept a wink on the flight to Texas. He’d also had a long drive from the Houston airport, which had given him plenty of time to stew over what might be going on here at the Rocking C.
“Are you the ranch owner?” he asked Shannon.
“No, that’s Chloe Martinez. She’s out of town until mid-December, but she left me in charge.”
Blake gave the nurse another once-over. She didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who would target an eighty-year-old man for financial gain. But was she capable of detecting an emotional exploitation going on under her nose—and then putting a stop to it?
Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned. Apparently he’d really set her off, although he hadn’t meant to.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said. “It might seem bright and early in the morning to you, but it’s been a long day and night for me, one that began more than twenty-four hours ago.”
“A successful investment attorney like you must be incredibly busy.” She removed her hands from her hips and folded them across her chest. “I’m surprised you were able to fit in a trip to Texas.”
She was right. He hadn’t created a successful career and comfortable life in Beverly Hills by taking vacations. And he didn’t have any time to waste in the Texas countryside now, even if the sights and sounds of the Rocking C stirred up old memories, reminding him of the ranch he used to visit every summer while growing up.
“In spite of what you’ve heard or might think,” he said, “I’ve really missed my uncle. And it’s high time I came to visit. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Did Sam know you were coming?” she asked.
“I wanted to surprise him.”
She nodded at the suitcase near his feet. “It looks as though you didn’t come for a short visit.”
“I might stay a while. It depends on how things go.”
She again eyed him carefully, assessing his stance and demeanor the way an opposing litigator would do. And for one fleeting moment it seemed as if she’d seen right into his heart.
Okay, so maybe she was astute—and not just a pretty face.
“You know,” she said, “rumor has it that you’re too caught up in making a buck and living the high life in the city to ever come to Texas. So I have a feeling your uncle will be surprised to see you.”
“He probably will be.” Obviously his uncle had been talking to his coworkers. And he hadn’t painted Blake in a very good light.
Shannon uncrossed her arms and softened her stance, although the skeptical expression she wore didn’t waver.
This wasn’t going well, especially since she was the one who was “in charge.” He’d clearly gotten off on the wrong foot.
Unfortunately, he’d been loaded for bear when he came to the Rocking C, which hadn’t been the right approach. So he’d have to do something to change that—and quickly.
He forced a smile and lightened his tone. “There’s something to be said about family issues and misunderstandings. There’s a lot more behind them than meets the eye. And there are usually two sides to the story.”
She arched a brow, challenging him to explain what his side or his explanation might be. But he didn’t want to get into the myriad emotions that had been brewing inside him since Sam refused to take his call yesterday.
It had not only stunned him when it happened, but just like an unexpected paper cut, it had also sliced him to the quick. That’s why he was determined to patch things up between them.
When he offered her a slight shrug, rather than an explanation that would require him to discuss hurt feelings, she said, “Then let’s hope your visit here goes well. Or your vacation or whatever it is.”
“For the record, I brought my iPhone and laptop, so I can work from here, if I need to.”
At that she smiled ever so slightly. “Good luck with that. The internet access here is sketchy at best, and the cell phone service is even worse.”
Then hopefully he wouldn’t have to stick around very long, just long enough to put a stop to the greedy schemer’s attempt to sway Sam into signing over the proverbial farm, not to mention paying her niece’s medical school tuition.
“I’ll manage without the telephone and internet,” he said, although he wasn’t sure how long he could do that and still stay on top of everything he had going on back at the office. Yet even if he couldn’t get as much work done as he’d hoped, he’d neglected his uncle for way too long.
The screen door swung open, and a redhead in her thirties walked out onto the extensive front porch without so much as a glance at Blake. “Good morning,” she said to Shannon. “Is it okay if I leave now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I was late.”
“No problem.” The redhead, who must be the night nurse, blinked her eyes a couple of times and yawned. “I’m going to head home and get some sleep.”
“I’ll see you this evening,” Shannon said.
The redhead had no more than climbed into a small Chevy pickup and started the engine, when Blake’s uncle strode into the yard as big as life.
At nearly eighty, Sam Darnell had a thick head of white hair under his Stetson, a warm glimmer in his blue eyes and a smile that wouldn’t quit. But he wasn’t smiling now.
He folded his arms across his broad chest and cast an accusatory eye on Blake. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. My new attorney bet me that you’d be here within twenty-four hours of receiving your copy of that document, but I thought he was wrong.”
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Blake shrugged a single shoulder. He’d taken a red-eye flight out of LA to Houston, so he’d arrived at dawn. Even after the time spent on renting a car and driving to the ranch, he’d still gotten here with hours to spare.
Sam adjusted the brim of his hat. “Looks like I owe my new lawyer twenty bucks, on top of the payment for the work he did.”
Blake hadn’t expected his uncle to be happy to see him, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to be so damn angry. Still, if truth be told, Blake really couldn’t blame him. “I owe you an apology, Sam, but just to set the record straight, I don’t care about that change in trusteeship. Now that you’re as healthy and strong as ever, it makes sense that you’d want to take control again.”
Sam’s only response was a humph.
“We need to talk.” Blake glanced at Nurse Shannon before returning his gaze to Sam. He was tempted to suggest they speak in private, but he’d let his uncle make that call.
Fortunately, neither of them had to say anything because the attractive nurse took the hint. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”
Sam, who actually did resemble the robust rancher he’d once been and not the frail old man who’d nearly died last spring, lifted the flat of his hand like a traffic cop. “Hold up, Shannon. Will you check on one of my men before you go inside?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
Sam blew out a sigh. “Nate Gallagher was helping me dig out the mud from around that old pump so we could repair it, and he had a run-in with a broken beer bottle.”
The nurse grimaced, apparently concerned about injury. Then she smiled, transforming her mood completely and putting a glimmer in those pretty eyes. “I hope it wasn’t his beer bottle. I heard that a few of the new cowboys you hired can get a little rowdy, especially on their days and nights off.”
Sam’s grin softened his expression and shaved ten years off his face. “You must have been talking to Rex and Pete. Those old coots usually have something to critique about my new hands.”
