Fortune's Little Heartbreaker

by Cindy Kirk

  “That would be very much appreciated.” Josephine patted her niece’s shoulder, even as her gaze remained fixed on the door.

  “Everyone.” Wendy spoke loudly above the conversational din. “The waiters have appetizers and beverages for you in the party room. The buffet is in the process of being set up. Please make your way down the hall.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Josephine said. “I’m sorry you can’t stay.”

  “Next time,” Wendy began.

  “Honey, we’re late.” Marcos took his wife’s arm.

  After offering Josephine a quick hug, Wendy hurried off with her husband and daughter, stopping for a second where Shannon stood speaking with a couple Oliver didn’t recognize. Locals, he decided, noticing the denim and boots.

  His mother surprised him by calling Shannon’s name and motioning to her when she began to head out the door with Wendy and Marcos. When Shannon sauntered over, Josephine took one of her hands. “I fear I didn’t make it clear—I’d love for you to join us.”

  “C’mon, Shannon, join us. Please.” Gabi had returned. She slanted a glance at Oliver. “Shannon made me feel so welcome when I came to stay in Horseback Hollow last year after my father’s accident.”

  Clearly, the two women were friends. Still, Shannon hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You’re not intruding.” Oliver’s gaze locked on hers. “You’re very much wanted.”

  * * *

  You’re very much wanted.

  What was there about the sentiment, said in that delightful British accent, that made her want to giggle like a nervous schoolgirl? The words echoed in her head, even as Shannon gestured to Rachel that she’d call her later. Her friend smiled and nodded, then refocused her attention back on the cowboy who was eating the last nacho.

  While Ollie remained tightly clutched in his grandmother’s arms, Shannon strolled with Oliver down a wide hallway to a large room that resembled the inside of a Mexican hacienda. It had arched doorways, stucco walls of bold red and spicy mustard and a tile floor that complemented the warmth of the walls.

  Oliver slanted a sideways glance. “It was fortuitous, running into you here.”

  “Fortuitous for me.” Shannon shot him an impish smile. “I’m getting dinner out of the deal.”

  “And I will have the pleasure of your company,” Oliver said gallantly.

  “You’re going to be sick of me very soon,” she teased with an ease that surprised her. “Underfoot practically 24/7.”

  “I’ll be working a lot of hours,” he said seriously. “Our contact will likely be minimal.”

  Shannon pulled back a scowl. He didn’t have to sound so doggone pleased at the prospect. “Hopefully you’ll carve out some time to play with Ollie.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Entertaining him, keeping him safe and tending to his needs will now be your job.”

  Before she could formulate a response, she was handed a margarita and Oliver was swept away.

  Though Shannon hadn’t done much socializing with the British branch of the Fortunes who’d recently arrived in Horseback Hollow, she’d grown up with Jeanne Marie’s children. There were seven of them and they were all here tonight, as was Josephine’s sister, Jeanne Marie.

  Shannon mingled, accepting an empanada appetizer from a passing waiter before taking a seat at a table with Gabi and Kinsley Aaron. Kinsley was the outreach coordinator for the Fortune Foundation and engaged to Christopher Fortune Jones.

  Since both women were set to be wed on Valentine’s Day, bridal talk dominated the conversation and continued after they went through the buffet line and sat down with their plates of food.

  Oliver stood across the room, caught up in conversation with his brother-in-law, Quinn Drummond. Back in middle school, Shannon had the hugest crush on Quinn. When she was thirteen she’d gathered the courage to ask him to a turnabout dance.

  When both Quinn and Oliver turned to look at her, Shannon smiled and wiggled her fingers in a semblance of a wave, praying Quinn wasn’t relaying to Oliver the awful story of how she’d awkwardly asked him out.

  Abruptly she turned to Gabi and bared her teeth as her gaze flickered. “All clear?”

  Gabi swallowed a bite of salad. “Perfect. Why?”

  “Just checking.” Shannon glanced at Gabi’s chicken taco salad; heavy on romaine, light on cheese, no tortilla bowl. “How’s the salad?”

  “Delicious.” Gabi smiled. “What about the enchiladas?”

  “Truly out of this world.” Shannon took another bite, savoring the taste. “You should try one.”

  The suggestion was out before she remembered Gabi was committed to eating nutritionally. Looking at her, it was hard to believe Gabi had needed a heart transplant when she was nineteen.

  “This will fill me up, thanks.” Gabi flashed an easy smile and gestured to where Oliver now stood speaking with his sister, Amelia. “Give me your take on Oliver.”

  Though she and Gabi were currently alone—Kinsley had joined her fiancé at another table—Shannon didn’t immediately answer. “What do you mean?”

  “You must like him well enough to go to work for him, to live with him.”

  “I think our business arrangement will work out well for both of us.” Shannon chose her words carefully, knowing whatever she said stood a good chance of getting back to Oliver.

  Jude was his cousin, after all. And Gabi didn’t seem the type to have secrets from her fiancé.

  “I’m asking what you think of him as a man.” Gabi waggled a fork at Shannon. Her dark eyes sparkled. “Admit it. Doesn’t that sexy accent make you want to swoon?”

  “Who are you swooning over, Gabrielle?” Jude appeared out of nowhere to plop down in the chair Kinsley had recently vacated. “Before you answer, let me warn you that it better be me.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

  “Sorry, Charlie.” Gabi wrinkled her nose, her tone teasing. “Your cousin Oliver’s accent has us both swooning. Isn’t that right, Shannon?”

  “That’s a kick in the shorts.” Though he tried to look stern, Jude failed miserably. Once he got the smile that kept trying to form on his lips under control, he turned and called out, “Oliver, get your ass over here.”

  Oliver merely glanced over at the sound of his name.

  Jude made an impatient “come here” motion with his hand.

  After a few final words to his sister, Oliver strode over.

  “He was speaking with Amelia.” Shannon had a sinking feeling she knew why Jude had summoned Oliver.

  “Now he’ll be speaking with us,” Jude said, suddenly all affable-cowboy charm. He reached over and pulled up a chair when Oliver approached the table. “Join us.”

  Oliver’s brows pulled together.

  Beneath Oliver’s polished smile, Shannon saw signs of fatigue. Had everyone forgotten that he’d made a transatlantic flight with a toddler only days earlier?

  “What can I do for you, Jude?” Oliver asked.

  Shannon thought his eyes may have lingered on her for an extra heartbeat, but she couldn’t be certain.

  “You can stop making the ladies swoon.”

  Obviously perplexed, Oliver glanced over at Shannon for clarification.

  She simply smiled and shifted her gaze to Jude. This was his bronc in the rodeo, not hers.

  “These ladies—” Jude gestured to Shannon and Gabi “—are swooning over your accent.”

  Oliver ignored Gabi to focus on Shannon. Though she’d never been the wilting-violet, blushing type, heat rose up her neck.

  “Actually, it was me.” Gabi raised her hand like a schoolgirl eager to talk. “I adore your accent. Though I’m not sure the effect would be the same, can you teach me to speak like you?”


  Poor Oliver.

  Two lines formed between his brows. It was obvious he didn’t quite know what to make of his cousin’s soon-to-be bride or the plate of cowboy caviar someone shoved into his hand.

  “Gabi’s teasing you.” Shannon spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and took a sip of the margarita.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m in the mood for some dancing,” Jude announced. “Mind keeping the ladies company while I get that started?”

  “Dancing?” Shannon smiled. “On what dance floor?”

  “That will be remedied momentarily,” Jude said over his shoulder.

  “Don’t even bother trying to figure him out.” Gabi’s tone was filled with warm affection. The smile was still on her lips when she shifted her attention to Oliver. “I was surprised to see Amelia and Quinn here.”

  “Why?”

  “Their baby is so tiny.”

  “I’m certain whoever is watching her has been cleared by Scotland Yard.”

  Oliver sat the plate of “caviar” down just as the sweet melody of a romantic ballad filled the air, followed by Jude’s booming voice.

  “I don’t know about the other grooms-to-be, but with the wedding less than two weeks away, I need to practice my dance steps,” Jude said.

  “Give it up, Jude,” one of his brothers called out. “Practice isn’t going to change the fact that you have two left feet.”

  “He does not,” Gabi muttered indignantly.

  “Shut up, Chris,” Jude shot back good-naturedly. “We’re going to use this part of the room for dancin’, so everyone put down your drinks and grab a partner.”

  “That’s my man,” Gabi said with pride. “A real take-charge guy.”

  Her take-charge guy returned to the table to pull her to her feet and lead her to the area he had cleared for dancing. They weren’t the only couple. All around Shannon and Oliver, men and women were pairing up.

  When Shannon saw a woman walk by with a toddler, it struck Shannon that she hadn’t seen Ollie for a while. “Where’s Ollie?”

  “Mum is changing his nappy.” Oliver grasped on to the topic like a drowning man would grab a life jacket. “I couldn’t pry him away from her even if I wanted to.”

  Do you want to, Oliver?

  He looked at her so strangely that for a split second Shannon thought she must have spoken aloud. Until she realized his growing unease was because everyone who’d been seated at their table was now dancing.

  Oliver pushed back his chair and abruptly stood. When he opened his mouth, Shannon found herself anticipating what it would feel like to be held in his strong arms.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” His head inclined in a slight bow. “I must check on my son.”

  Oliver turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Shannon alone and, just as when she was thirteen, without a date for the dance.

  Chapter Six

  By ten the next morning, Oliver had fed his son, changed his nappy for the third time and was ready to get down to business. He placed Ollie in his car seat and set off for the Triple S ranch.

  He called Shannon’s father to make sure he’d be home, indicating he had something of a personal nature to discuss with him. When Shep had bluntly asked what it was, Oliver told him it was a matter best discussed in person. So here he was, on a bright and sunny Saturday morning in early February, headed over to clarify with a Texas rancher that he didn’t have designs on his daughter.

  Certainly Shannon intrigued him. How could she not, with eyes the color of rich, dark cocoa and a smile that pierced his reserve as easily as an arrow through marshmallow. Was it any wonder that last night he’d been seriously tempted to ask her to dance?

  Oliver wheeled the Mercedes onto the highway, remembering how very close he’d come to asking her. But that, he thought rather righteously, was the difference between a strong man and a weak one. No matter how tempted he was to see what it would feel like to hold her in his arms, Oliver hadn’t given in to temptation.

  In fact, he’d walked away. Not because he couldn’t handle the temptation but because he’d seen the way her foot tapped in time to the music and the longing way she glanced at the couples dancing. By leaving the table, he’d made it easier for other men to ask her.

  Yet, when he’d watched his cousin Galen stroll over and Shannon had risen to take his arm, Oliver had felt a twinge of unease. He hoped his cousin was an honorable man.

  Oliver couldn’t help noticing Galen held her a little too closely when they danced. And why was he whispering in her ear? What could they be saying that was so secretive? It had to be a ploy to get even closer to her. And from what Oliver had observed, it worked.

  Actually it was something Oliver might have done if she’d been in his arms. But Shannon was his employee. Not that a man couldn’t dance with his employee. But he could never hold her close.

  The last thing Oliver wanted was to mess up a good working relationship before it even began. Some women could handle a casual, meaningless affair. He had the distinct impression that Shannon wasn’t like those women. In fact, she’d made it clear she wanted a business relationship only. He’d agreed. He’d given her his word. And a gentleman always kept his word.

  Though right now Oliver didn’t feel much like a gentleman.

  Thoughts of Shannon occupied him during the rest of the drive to the Singleton ranch. By the time Oliver turned onto the long lane leading to the house, Ollie was fast asleep. Oliver stifled a groan at the sight of the boy’s lolling head in the rearview mirror. He’d discovered if Ollie napped throughout the day, he often didn’t sleep well at night.

  But Oliver couldn’t concern himself with that now. He would get through another night of little to no sleep with the thought that tomorrow night Shannon would be there to take care of Ollie. And Oliver would finally be able to get back to business.

  For now, he had a different kind of business to attend to, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Before confirming a time, he’d asked Shep if Shannon was home. According to Shep, she’d left early that morning to attend a “farmers’ market” in Vicker’s Corners and wasn’t expected back until noon. By that time, Oliver’s business should be concluded.

  The Singleton home was a two-story with white siding, black shutters and a wraparound porch. The bushes on each side of the walk leading to the front steps looked like a sturdy variety with burnished red leaves and tiny thorns.

  Oliver noticed the ceiling of the porch was painted blue, like the sky. Seeing the swing made him wonder if Shannon ever sat there and shared kisses with some lucky man while a full moon shone overhead.

  Oliver chuckled at the fanciful thought and shifted Ollie’s weight in his arms. Though his son was by no means fat, he was sturdy, weighing in at approximately a stone and a half. Not that easy to carry when he squirmed as he was doing now.

  Having Ollie with him wasn’t ideal but Oliver had brought some of the boy’s favorite toys, so hopefully that would keep him occupied during the brief discussion with Shannon’s father.

  When Oliver reached the front door, he had Ollie stand beside him while he rang the bell.

  The door opened several seconds later.

  “You must be Oliver.” Shep Singleton was a tall man in his late fifties with a thick thatch of gray hair and a lean, weathered face.

  Dressing down for the occasion had been a smart move, Oliver decided. Though he considered this a business call, he hadn’t worn his suit. Instead he’d taken a page from Jensen’s playbook and chosen a pair of khakis and a polo.

  Even with the concession, he felt overdressed compared with Shep’s jeans and flannel shirt.

  Because Shep didn’t extend his hand, Oliver kept his own at his side.

  “Come in.” Shep motioned to him. “Lilian has coffee brewin’ and s
he’s cutting some slices of her blue-ribbon banana bread.”

  Oliver didn’t think he’d ever had blue-ribbon banana bread. In fact he was fairly certain he’d never had regular banana bread. He considered asking how blue ribbon differed from regular, just for his own edification, but decided it wasn’t important. Not when they had more important things to discuss.

  He followed Shep into a foyer that was pleasant but unremarkable, with a staircase straight ahead and a parlor to the right. Because the older man’s strides were long, Oliver was forced to pick up Ollie to keep pace.

  The kitchen was as old-fashioned as the rest of the house, with appliances the color of avocado and a chrome kitchen table with a swirly gray-green top. There was an ornamental print on the wall with teapots and kettles of all shapes and colors.

  A slender woman who reminded Oliver of her daughter, with warm brown eyes and hair the color of strong tea, turned to greet him.

  “It’s so good to finally meet you,” Lilian said with a warm, welcoming smile. “When Shep told me you were stopping by, I hoped you’d be bringing this little guy with you.”

  Her gaze lingered on Ollie, and a soft look filled her eyes. She reached inside a clown jar and pulled out what looked like an oat biscuit. The questioning look in her eyes had Oliver nodding.

  Lilian moved slowly to the child, who stood looking around the colorful kitchen with a wide, unblinking look of wonder.

  “Hi, Ollie.” She crouched down with the ease of a woman used to constant movement.

  The toddler stared at her.

  “Do you like cookies?” Lilian held it up in front of him, and when she was certain she had his attention, she broke off a piece and held it out to him.

  A shy smile hovered on Ollie’s lips. Still, after a moment, he reached out and took the piece from her hand, shoving it into his mouth.

  “Ollie, what do you say to Mrs. Singleton?” Oliver prompted.

  “Tank ooh,” Ollie spoke around a mouthful of cookie.

  Lilian ruffled his hair in a casual gesture and stood. “He’s darling. Shannon has four younger brothers, so we’re used to boys around this house.”