Saddle leather creaked, and Ernesto’s leathery hand settled over hers where it rested on her right thigh. She started in surprise.
“The two of us, we will miss him mucho, si?”
She nodded as a lump formed in her throat. “Si.”
“It is okay to cry for you.”
She nodded again, but sniffed back the tears. She’d cried enough for one day. And Lord knew she’d used enough tears in her younger years to last a lifetime. She didn’t deserve any more.
“But our friend, he is in a better place.” Ernesto lifted his hand and pointed to the sky. “Cielo.”
“I know.”
A chestnut foal a little bigger than the rest trotted up to their two horses, drawing her attention down from the heavens. Any other day, Reggie would’ve laughed at his skittishness. How strange it must look to the little guy to see horses with riders on their backs. Ernesto did chuckle as the chestnut did a half-buck side-kick and nearly fell on his face before sprinting back to hide behind his mother.
“We do not always get on so well, me and you.”
She glanced over at Ernesto’s sudden statement, surprised he’d bring up their stilted relationship now. His words were a kind description, so she didn’t protest.
“At first, I blamed you for Mr. Tripp leaving.”
Reggie hung her head as shame spread through her. “I often wondered.”
“But no more,” Ernesto said firmly.
“It was my fault.”
“No. Those two always butted heads. Mr. Tripp had his own problems to deal with. Your presence didn’t help, but he made the decision to leave and not return.”
“Judd told him not to come back,” Reggie reminded him with a frown.
A sad smile lifted his mustache. “Pride is a foolish thing. They both had too much of it.”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t quite know what to say. It was nice of him to say she wasn’t to blame, even if it wasn’t true. He just didn’t know the whole story; didn’t know how truly awful she’d been to Tripp and the full extent of all she’d done. Guilt still left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“But everything will be okay now,” Ernesto assured her. “You will see.”
Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“You and Tripp will work well together. The ranch is in good hands.”
She let out an uneasy laugh. “Where in the world did you get that idea? Tripp’s not staying.”
“He must stay.”
“No, he told Grandma Rosie he has a flight back home tomorrow. He’s not staying.”
Ernesto made a displeased sound and urged his mount forward. Reggie signaled Prince forward to cut his mare off.
“What made you think he was?” she asked again.
He ignored her question and maneuvered around her horse. “You are riding bareback. I take it you are not out here to work?”
Reggie clenched her jaw tight, knowing from experience Ernesto would say no more on the subject. Releasing her frustration with a sigh, she said, “I’m just going to ride the south fence and then head back. I promised Grandma I’d be back for dinner.”
“It is good she doesn’t eat alone.”
“Would you join us?” Reggie asked suddenly. “Please? I know she’d like you to. We both would.” He’d be a welcome buffer if Grandma brought up the subject of Tripp, and if she had convinced the man to join them for dinner, Ernesto would be a Godsend.
Ernesto smiled and tipped his straw hat in acceptance. “Muchas gracias.”
Reggie watched him ride back toward the ranch and was surprised at the feeling of peace their conversation left within her—concerning Judd, not Tripp. No thoughts of Tripp would ever be classified as peaceful—especially after Ernesto’s disturbing words.
“You and Tripp will work well together. The ranch is in good hands.”
Tripp wasn’t staying, was he? He couldn’t. He wasn’t. She’d heard him say those exact words to Grandma on the porch. He was going home to…wherever home was for him. Of all the secondhand things she’d learned about him earlier during the gathering, where he called home was wasn’t one of them.
She had learned he wasn’t married, no kids, not even seeing anyone at the moment. The information had been garnered by Hannah Johnson, the banker’s beautiful blond daughter. Not that any of it mattered to Reggie. All she cared about was Tripp owned his own business. He’d been very closed-mouthed about what and where, but surely that was a reason for him not to stay, right? A business couldn’t very well run itself.
Well, it could, with the right leadership in place, but just the brief interaction she’d had with the man led her to believe he would be very hands on. Was probably very capable with those hands, too. His grip on her arm earlier had been firm but not bruising or hurtful in any way.
What if he did stay?
Her pulse sped up, and she didn’t realize she’d tensed until Prince broke into a canter from the increased pressure of her knees. Cramming her hat tighter on her head, she leaned low over his neck and urged him faster as Reggie tried to outrun all her fears.
By the time she walked Prince back to the barn and cooled him down, she’d convinced herself Ernesto was wishing on rainbows that were nowhere in sight. Besides, by his own words, Tripp was not staying at Warner Ridge Ranch. Seeing the empty space where his rental car had been parked, she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God he’d decided not to stay for dinner, either.
Reggie paused with the sudden realization that Grandma Rosie must be exhausted if she’d accepted a no from her only grandson. More guilt descended, and she vowed to keep an eye on her this evening, make sure she took it easy and went to bed early.
Now, all Reggie needed was a shower and clean clothes before she sat at the table. And she’d better hurry if she didn’t want to be late; Grandma hated waiting dinner. So many times, she’d scolded her, along with Judd, when they walked into the dining room in their dirty work clothes because they hadn’t left enough time to change…
Damn, the lump in her throat was back again. She swiped her hat from her head and paused in the hallway. Looking skyward and blinking furiously, she took a deep breath to get a hold of her unbridled emotions. At some point, it would get better. It had to.
A noise from the office caught her attention, and she took the last couple strides to the open door. The sight of Tripp’s broad back sent her back a step, but then her gaze dropped, and she noticed he’d changed from his suit into more casual attire. He still wore the white shirt, but the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, and a pair of worn, faded jeans now hugged his hips and muscled thighs.
Then she realized he was going through the safe, and her blood ran cold. She slapped her hat against her thigh, knowing the noise would get his attention. As he turned with a sealed manila envelope in his hand, she leaned back against the door and crossed her arms over her chest to level him with a glare.
“And you accused me of not being able to wait to see the Will?” It hurt to say it, but he’d already thrown it at her, so why not?
He glanced down at the envelope. When blue eyes raised again, they narrowed in an expression of derision she was becoming all too familiar with already. “My grandmother asked me to get her the envelope—I have no clue what’s inside.”
She straightened with a snort of clear disbelief like he had earlier in the barn. “Okay.”
He tossed the envelope on the desk before turning away to put a few things back inside the safe and close it. While he spun the dial, her gaze skimmed over the nice fit of his jeans, coming to rest on the play of muscle beneath the white shirt clinging to his shoulders. Was he as hard as he looked?
The thought of touching him to find out revved up her pulse and made her blurt, “I thought you were leaving.”
“What’s it to you?”
“No big deal. It’s just that earlier you said you were going back to your hotel. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.” And only if she wasn’t lucky enough to g
et out on the range before he showed up.
He faced her again, picked up the envelope, and started around the desk. “I changed my mind and cancelled my reservation.”
Reggie jerked her gaze to his. “You’re spending the night, too?”
He lifted his brows, mocking her. “Does Princess Regan object?”
The damn man kept goading her, making her forget her guilt and the fact that she had insisted she’d changed. How was she supposed to prove it if he provoked her every time they spoke?
“I don’t give a damn,” she bit out. Except his old room was right next to hers. “I only—you are leaving tomorrow, right?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer as he stepped closer.
“That’s the current plan.”
Her breath released in silent relief. She sucked it right back in when he crowded her against the door and leaned close.
“Why do you care, exactly?” he asked softly in his rough-edged voice.
“I don’t,” she bluffed, trying not to breathe again since he smelled so damn good her stomach fluttered wildly. Or was it his voice?
He stared at her for a long moment, his expression becoming unreadable, unsettled, then worse—thoughtful. “You’re afraid.”
Reggie drew back with a frown even as her pulse thrummed loud in her ears. “Don’t be absurd. What would I have to be afraid of?”
Each passing second increased her anxiety until she was ready to shove her hands against his chest and physically move him away. Gripping her hat tighter, she feared it would never make it back to its original shape.
Unable to endure his scrutiny any longer, she lowered her gaze. It caught on his mouth as a slow smile curved his lips. While crazy thoughts began to buzz in her head, he braced one hand against the doorjamb, effectively caging her in with an impressively muscled, tanned forearm.
“Something’s rattled your cage pretty darn good,” he drawled. “Damned if I’m not going to hang around and find out what it is.”
Her gaze rose back to his in a panic. Had he read her mind? And, oh, God, no, she couldn’t let him find out what was rattling her right now.
Instead of touching him with her unsteady hands, she ducked under his arm before spinning around to face him from the wide open hallway. Lifting her chin and striving for a haughty tone, she said, “Like I said, I could care less what you do. I only ask for Grandma’s sake. It’s cruel to give her false hope you’ll stick around this time.”
This time.
The words hung in the air between them. His smile fell away and her cheeks burned, but she resisted cooling them with her hands. The sound of slow footsteps made them both turn to see Grandma walking toward them from the dining room.
She smiled, then frowned when she looked down at Reggie’s clothes. “Reggie, are you planning to change, or are you coming to dinner smelling like horse again?”
Reggie ducked her head, using her thick curtain of hair to shield her face from Tripp’s dark expression as she headed for the stairs.
Chapter 4
Tripp’s fingers tightened on the envelope in his hand as he fought the urge to crumple it into a ball. It was too thick to actually accomplish, but he’d have given it a hell of a shot. His gaze followed Regan’s lithe form up the stairs as suspicion pulsed in his veins. What did she not want him to see in this envelope?
“I see you found it,” Nana said, drawing his attention back to her.
He handed her the envelope. “Right where you said it would be.”
“Thank you, Tripp.” She nodded and held it close to her chest. “We’ll go over this after dinner, when Hal gets here.”
Tripp remembered a familiar looking, short, balding man with glasses at the funeral. “Remind me what Hal does again?”
“Friend first, lawyer second.”
“So that really is Dad’s will?”
“Yes, dear. Now, come along and seat me for dinner.”
He offered his arm and covered her hand with his as they walked back the way she came. Looking at her bony fingers next to his much larger ones, he remembered how strong she used to be, fooling everyone with a delicate appearance while working right alongside him and his dad on the ranch. Her spirit remained firm, evident by the undimmed sparkle in her faded eyes, but, physically, she was now as fragile as she’d always appeared. After he pushed in her chair and took the seat to her left, she gave him a smile that made his chest ache more.
“I’m so glad you stayed.”
“Just for tonight, Nana,” he warned gently. “Remember, I’ve got a business to get back to.” He’d kept her company and told her all about TW Brick and Paving Tiles while Regan was out being selfish.
Nana sighed and fiddled with her silverware, the blue veins on the top of her hand dark beneath the transparency of her pale skin. “I know. And since there’s no telling when you’ll make it back, I called Hal to see if we could take care of the will tonight.”
Guilt mushroomed as he was sure she’d intended, but Tripp ignored it the best he could. Her gaze flitted to the envelope on the table between them and a small smile brightened her eyes. The oddest feeling of dread shivered up his spine. And while nothing had felt right since he’d arrived, this sense of impending doom felt worse than the rest.
He was about to speak when Regan walked in with Ernesto, cutting off any moment of privacy he would’ve had with Nana.
After soup and salad had been served, the meal became an exercise in patience for Tripp for two reasons. No, make that three. He was now dying to find out what was in the envelope to make Nana smile like she had a secret, Nana and Ernesto bombarded him with more personal questions he had no desire to answer in front of Regan, and he was having a hell of a time keeping his eyes off her.
She’d changed into a purple, v-necked shirt that deepened the color of her eyes to match the violets growing on the hillside near the cemetery. Unlike the miniature Loretta he remembered, now she didn’t wear a speck of makeup, but then again, with those dark lashes, she had no need to. And anything else on her face would’ve covered up the sun-freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. A light tan added a healthy glow, not the leathery look of too many hours in the sun.
Her silky-looking curls were pulled back at the sides, revealing the elegant line of her neck, and he thought absently that Regan really did fit so much better than Reggie—and not for the reason he’d said in the barn. Reggie was much too casual for her regal bearing. He’d noticed her walk held an unconscious dignity and strength, back straight, head held high as if to say to the world, “Bring it on.”
Even now, picking at her food and looking bored out of her mind, there was an innate gracefulness to her movements that couldn’t be learned. He lifted his fork after cutting another bite of steak, but paused when he caught sight of her nails. Hmmm. Whereas he wouldn’t have been surprised to find manicured, red claws, they were cut short and practical without any polish. They didn’t fit.
Tripp scowled at his plate and tried not to notice anything more about her. When Nana wouldn’t stop prying and he got tired of sidestepping her questions, he steered the conversation to the ranch. After all these years, he wasn’t quite ready for an all out inquisition, no matter how much he loved Nana.
His pointed question about the horse-breeding program his father had begun just before Tripp left brought Regan’s head up. Light entered her eyes until she saw him watching her. She quickly looked back down at her plate.
So the horses interest her, do they? The topic meandered to other areas of the ranch, and, after awhile, she seemed to forget he was there and joined the discussion. It didn’t take long for him to realize not only was she fully involved and knowledgeable about all aspects of the ranch, but her passion for the place resonated loud and clear in her voice.
Apparently, the princess not only gave orders, but she knew how to work, too. Something else that didn’t fit.
Since seeing her again and learning she called the ranch home, he’d pictured he
r lounging around, doing as she pleased, taking a leisurely ride when the mood stuck like earlier, or heading into Amarillo for a day of shopping. Listening to her and Ernesto discuss what needed to be done in the next week alone, he grudgingly acknowledged a smidgeon of respect. He knew what it took to run a profitable business the size of Warner Ridge Ranch.
Maybe she had changed. A frown creased his brow at the thought.
When the last plate was cleared, Nana requested Ana serve coffee in the living room and everyone rose to their feet. Ernesto escorted Nana from the room, leaving him and Regan to follow. With a sardonic lift of his brow, Tripp offered his arm just as the doorbell sounded from the front of the house.
“I’ll get it.” She hurried toward the front entrance, skirting around the end of the table furthest from him.
She was still rattled all right. This next hour or so should be interesting.
He met up with Regan and Hal Owens in the living room. Ana delivered the coffee but Regan quickly relieved the housekeeper of the tray.
“Thanks, Ana,” Regan said in a soft undertone Tripp could just make out. “Why don’t you go home to Carlos and the girls. I’ll clean up later.”
His interest sharpened. Regan doing maid’s work?
Ana waved a hand. “I can stay. Carlos took the girls to dance class tonight anyway. It’s good for him, you know?”
Regan’s answering smile made Tripp strain his ears to catch her words.
“All the more reason to go home and enjoy some time to yourself. When’s the last time you did that?”
“Gracious, I can’t remember.” Ana hesitated, then her smile widened. “If you’re sure?”
“Of course, it’s just a few dishes. Have a good night.”
Ernesto cleared his throat after Ana departed. “Thank you for dinner, Rosie. I will take my leave, now, too.”
He bowed over Nana’s hand to deliver a small kiss. Tripp watched with amusement as Nana’s cheeks colored at the gallant gesture. However, she didn’t pull her hand free.
Sugar and Sin Bundle Page 3
