Hank did a double take. “Seriously?”
Ally picked up her shears once again. She bent her head, concentrating on her cutting. “They didn’t want me to leave Laramie County. They would have preferred I stay on the ranch and build a life here.”
He came closer. “But you went anyway.”
She sighed. “Like I said, I was determined to do things my own way.” She pushed the bad memories aside and turned her attention back to him. “And speaking of parents…what’s going on with you and your dad?”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “What do you mean?”
Ally eyed him pointedly. “I saw the two of you come back. Neither of you looked particularly happy.”
Hank shrugged and averted his gaze.
“Does the discord have something to do with the ranch?”
His expression darkened. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m not sure.” It was her turn to lift her shoulders. “I just do.”
Silence fell. Hank looked as if he was about to say something, but didn’t. The quiet continued, fraught with tension.
Aware this wasn’t the first time she’d been summarily cut out of a situation—her parents had done it all the time—Ally turned her attention back to her task and cut along the last line she had marked.
Her feelings were hurt, but she wasn’t sure why—it shouldn’t matter if Hank confided in her or not. She cleared her throat, and added with as much indolence as she could manage, “Anyway, if that’s all…”
“Actually—” Hank’s frown deepened “—it’s not. I’ve got something I need to do in Laramie.”
Could he be more vague?
Could she be more nosy?
Honestly! What was wrong with her today? Just because she and Hank had bonded a little over the birth of the litter, and exchanged one way-too-hot kiss, that was no reason to think they were involved in each other’s lives. Because they weren’t now, and definitely wouldn’t be once the ranch was sold!
“Can you watch over Duchess and the pups a little while longer?”
Trying to hide her disappointment at his sudden remoteness, Ally nodded. “Sure.”
And that, it seemed, was that.
“THERE’S NO WAY WE can give you a mortgage on Mesquite Ridge without at least ten percent down,” the president of Laramie Bank told Hank an hour later. “And given the fact we’re talking about a two and a half million dollar loan…” Terence Hall ran a hand over his close-trimmed beard.
Hank had already run the numbers. “I need two hundred and fifty thousand, cash.”
Terence rocked back in his chair. “Plus an application fee, closing costs. Money for the survey, inspection and title search. And a real estate sales commission if she lists with a broker, as she currently plans to do.”
The situation was getting worse by the minute, Hank thought, as he listened to the Christmas music playing in the lobby of the bank. Only there was no Santa Claus here. Only Ally Garrett, and Graham Penderson from Corporate Farms, who could easily become this year’s Grinch, by stealing the property out from under him.
Aware that his holiday spirit was fading as fast as his problems mounted, Hank decided to be straight with the most influential banker in the county. The word in the agricultural community was that if Terence couldn’t make it happen, no one could. “I’ve got only forty thousand saved.”
Terence rapped his pen on his desk. “Maybe you could convince Ms. Garrett to do some sort of land contract or lease-purchase agreement.”
Hank’s hand tightened on the brim of his Stetson. “I doubt it. Besides, even then I’d have only a hundred eighty days max—to come up with the rest of the cash, or forfeit everything I’ve already put in.”
On just the assumption this would work out as I hoped.
“Perhaps if you sell your herd…”
“I’d be all hat and no cattle, with no cash to replace ’em.”
“Sometimes there are sources for cash that aren’t readily thought of.”
Hank knew where this was heading. He’d already had one argument today with his dad. He wasn’t going to have another, with a banker. He lifted a palm and stood, not about to go down that road now. “Thanks for your time,” he said curtly. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Terence followed him to the door. “Maybe you should have another talk with Ms. Garrett,” he suggested hopefully.
As it happened, Hank planned to do just that.
THE ONLY PROBLEM WAS, when Hank got back to the ranch, a big Cadillac with a Corporate Farms logo was sitting in the driveway.
Frowning, he got out of his truck and walked inside.
Ally was standing next to a ladder in the living room, a spritz bottle in one hand, a putty knife in another. In worn jeans, an old Rice University T-shirt and sneakers, with her hair drawn into a clip, she looked younger—and more vulnerable than ever—as Graham Penderson harangued her.
“It’s a good offer. Better than you’d get if you went the traditional sale route.”
Snorting, Ally sent Graham a narrowed-eyed glance. “That’s ten percent less than the asking price suggested by Premier Realty.”
You go, girl, Hank thought, pleased to see her standing up to the pushy acquisition agent.
Penderson turned his back on Hank and continued his pitch in a you’d-be-crazy-not-to-accept-this-deal tone. “We subtracted out the real estate commission and other costs. You’d still get the same amount, only without all the hassle and expense of—if you’ll forgive my candor—renovating this dog of a house.”
It was also, Hank thought, the home in which Ally had grown up.
Not a smart move, criticizing it.
He looked over at her.
Ally’s face remained calm, her emotions—whatever they were—camouflaged. She climbed back down the ladder and wordlessly accepted the written offer Graham Penderson was holding out. With a forced smile, she walked over and put the papers on the scarred rolltop desk. “I’ll take that into consideration,” she stated cooly.
Graham Penderson did not seem to know when to quit. “If you sell to us,” he continued, “you won’t have to worry about updating anything on the property, since we intend to tear down all existing buildings, including the ranch house and barns, and build something much more utilitarian.”
Ally blinked.
She hadn’t been expecting that.
“That seems like a waste,” Hank interjected, in an effort to buy Ally time to pull her thoughts together.
The agent swung around to him. “It’s good business,” he countered matter-of-factly. He turned back to Ally. “The offer is good for forty-eight hours,” he said impatiently, holding his Resistol at his side.
“So you said.” Ally ignored the question in Hank’s eyes and gestured toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Penderson, I have work to do.”
The smart move, Hank noted, would have been to take the hint. The agent did no such thing.
“Not if you sell to Corporate Farms. Then, all you have to do is sign on the dotted line, take the money and run.”
Clearly unimpressed, Ally stared down the CF representative. “So you also said.”
Penderson stepped even closer. “I’d hate to see you lose out on what has to be the answer to your prayers.”
Ally remained grimly silent. Hank figured this was his cue, and walked toward the agent. “I believe the lady asked you to leave.”
Penderson turned. Whatever he was about to say was lost as Hank clapped a firm hand on the small man’s shoulder, physically propelling him across the living room, through the dingy foyer and all the way to his car. Hank waited until Penderson drove off, then went back inside. Ally was back on the ladder, spritzing a piece of the loose horse-and-hound wallpaper. If she resented his macho interference, she wasn’t showing it.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
Ally set the spray bottle on the platform at the top of the stepladder. Stubbornly pressing her lips together
, she eased the putty knife beneath the paper. “Why wouldn’t I be?” The wallpaper made a ripping sound as it separated from the ancient drywall.
Hank stepped closer. He grabbed a piece of dampened paper and pulled it off the wall. “Because that jerk was giving you a hard time.”
Ally came back down the ladder, picked it up and moved it another two feet to the left. Resentment glimmered in her green eyes. “I was handling him.”
Hank stood with legs braced, as if for battle. “You may think you were.”
She stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Here was his chance to bring up what he’d been reluctant to discuss before. “Corporate Farms is more than just an outfit that buys ranches and farms nationwide, or a firm that is angling to create the largest single ranch in the nation. It has a reputation for ruining communities faster than you can imagine.”
Ally sobered. “How?”
“Well, first they come in with a lowball offer. Like what just happened. If they fail on the first try—and often they don’t—they up the ante. And they keep upping it until they get what they want. In fact, they’re happiest when they do have to pay more than the assessed value of a property, because that drives up the prices of all the neighboring ranches and farms, and with that, the tax values. A few acquisitions by CF coupled with a bad year agriculturally, and before you know it the neighbors can’t pay their taxes.”
“Go on,” Ally said quietly, suddenly a captive audience.
Hank sighed heavily. “So then Corporate Farms comes in again, and buys the properties in distress, this time for much less than what they’re worth. The point is, an outfit like CF has vast resources and can move awfully fast. You may not be prepared for how fast. Or the kind of temptation they can exert.” His eyes hardened. “Especially since word on the street is they want to eventually buy up every single ranch property in Laramie County and turn it into one big entity.”
Ally regarded him calmly. “So in other words, I shouldn’t sell to them because they’re bad guys. And they’re likely to put everyone else around here out of business if I do.”
“Exactly,” he muttered.
“Which is why your dad was here this morning.”
Her insight caught Hank off guard. “That was part of it,” he allowed cautiously.
She stepped closer. “And the rest?”
Hank’s jaw set. “It’s not relevant to this.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why don’t you let me decide that? Seriously. You want me to trust you? Then you need to reveal more about what’s going on with your situation, too!”
Fair enough. “My parents think I need their help to succeed.”
Ally let out a disbelieving laugh. “You? The guy who was Mr. Everything in high school? Student body president, star athelete, class heartthrob—”
Hank focused on the most important of the litany. “Class heartthrob?” he repeated. Was that how she’d seen him back then?
Ally flushed. “Never mind. Forget I said that.” She drew a breath and settled on a step of the ladder, turning businesslike once again. “Back to your very implausible story.”
Hank’s gut twisted with the irony. “It’s true,” he said, just as quietly. He edged close enough to rest an elbow on the top rung of the ladder. “My parents think I flipped out after Jo-anne’s death. That was why I joined the marines and stayed in for ten years.”
Ally tilted her head to look up into his face. “Was it the reason?”
His voice was edgy with tension as he answered, “I admit I was depressed and angry after she died. You can’t not be if one of your loved ones dies in something as senseless and unexpected as a terrorist attack. But…” He paused reflectively, then shrugged. “I got over it.”
The tenderness in Ally’s eyes encouraged him to dig a little deeper into his feelings. “I grew up, I guess, came to accept that bad things happen in life to everyone. And what counts is your ability to pick yourself up and make something good happen—even in the worst circumstances—and move on. And that’s what my career in the marines was all about. I helped save a lot of lives. Now I’m out…and ready to move on with the next chapter of my life.”
Ally stood and moved away from the ladder once again. “But your mom and dad can’t accept that.”
He watched her amble back to the wall where she had been working, and spritz an area within reach.
Hank picked up a scraper and walked over to help. “My parents blame themselves for my taking off in the first place. They think they failed me somehow, after Jo-anne died. They don’t want to be caught short again. And they’re afraid if this ranching thing doesn’t work out, I’m going to leave again.”
For a second, a flash of alarm appeared in her eyes. “Will you?”
Was it possible, Hank wondered, she wanted him to stay around, as much as he was beginning to want her to do the same? “No. Texas is my home and always will be. That’s one thing I figured out while I was overseas.”
She scowled at the piece of wall covering she was working on, then tilted her head up to his. “When you say Texas,” she murmured, looking at him from beneath her fringe of thick lashes, “do you mean Laramie, or anywhere in the state?”
“I got a hundred head of cattle, and I have to find somewhere of my own to graze them.” At the moment, Mesquite Ridge was the only ranch available for lease or sale in Laramie County.
“So if it’s not here…?”
Hank studied the way she was biting into her lower lip. “It’ll be somewhere.”
“That’s all very interesting.” She ripped off the stubborn piece of wallpaper with more force than necessary and dropped it into the trash can. Then she whirled around and chided, “But it doesn’t explain why you just acted so protectively toward me.”
He’d been wondering when she would bring that up.
Hank refused to apologize for giving Graham Penderson the old heave-ho. “I wouldn’t think I’d have to explain that,” he answered drily.
She lifted a blond brow. “Apparently,” she said, perfectly mimicking his deadpan tone, “you do.”
Was it possible? Was he really that hard to read that Ally had no clue how he was beginning to feel about her?
“Then how about this for an explanation?” Hank said, leaning in for a kiss.
Chapter Seven
His move wasn’t all that unexpected. The woman in Ally had known Hank was going to kiss her again. She just hadn’t known when—or where.
The question was, Ally mused, as his arms wrapped around her and drew her close, what was she going to do? Was she going to acknowledge the rapid thudding of her heart and the weakening of her knees, and give in to the ever so slow and deliberate descent of his lips to hers? When the professional businesswoman in her knew she should not—at least until the matter of the sale of Mesquite Ridge was settled? Or would she go with her feminine side, and the instinct that told her to grab this opportunity to see if their chemistry was as good as she’d suspected?
Unable to keep herself from slowing things down a little and speaking her piece, Ally planted a palm in the center of Hank’s chest. She drew in a quick, bolstering breath and looked him square in the eye. “This won’t change anything, you know.”
Grinning, Hank threaded a hand through the hair at her nape. “I know you think so,” he murmured, just as confidently.
And then all heaven broke loose as his lips finally took command of hers….
My goodness, did this man ever know how to kiss! With finesse and depth and stark male assurance. He kissed her as if kissing was an end in itself, and there was no one but the two of them in the entire universe. He kissed her as if he meant it—and always would. He kissed her as if she was the most incredible woman he’d ever been privileged to know.
And darn it all, Ally thought, as she threw caution to the wind and rose up on tiptoe to meet him with every ounce of womanly passion she had. She felt the same!
She never wanted this moment to end.
She wanted to stay just like this, with his arms wrapped around her, his strong body pressed ardently against hers.
She wanted to savor the peppermint taste of his mouth, and the incredible heat that exuded from every sexy inch of him.
And she wanted more. Much more than she had ever wanted in her life…
Right now. Right here.
And since it was Christmastime, and she had no other gifts headed her way, why not present herself with the most thrilling experience of all?
Ally broke off the caress to murmur, “I want you.”
Hank looked down at her with a mixture of affection and longing. He threaded both his hands through her hair and tenderly cupped her face between his palms. “I want you, too, but only,” he said soberly, “if you’re sure.”
Ally had never been impulsive. Until now. And darned if she wasn’t enjoying the experience. “I’m sure,” she said, just as earnestly.
He nodded and swung her up in his arms. “Then we’re going up to my bedroom and doing this the way it should be done.”
“And how is that?” Ally asked, her recklessness soaring with every step he took, until at last Hank set her down next to his neatly made bed.
“Slowly.” He paused to kiss her again, even more deeply this time again. “And with great attention to detail.”
She liked his approach. It kept her from thinking too much about her feelings. Emotions could be her undoing. Better to think about the task at hand….
“Detail’s good.” Ally let her head fall back as he nibbled his way down her neck, lingering over her collarbone. She shivered when he eased her old college T-shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes darkened as he took in the curves of her breasts, spilling out of the lace of her bra.
“Very good,” Hank murmured thickly, as he eased the fabric from her arms and reached behind her to undo the clasp.
The lace slid away. He bent her backward over his arm. Cool air assaulted her nipples and her breasts tingled in anticipation. Unable to bear the excitement, Ally let her eyes flutter shut. She felt the warmth of his mouth, the caress of his tongue, the nip of his teeth, while his hands conducted a very thorough exploration of their own. Despite her efforts to keep this a purely physical experience, feelings welled up inside her, mixing with the sensations. The combination of the two was overwhelming and incredibly enticing….
A Cowboy Under the Mistletoe Page 7
