The Boss, the Bride & the Baby (Brighton Valley Cowboys Book 1)

by Judy Duarte

  “I don’t owe you or anyone an explanation, but I ended things when I told him about the baby and he wanted me to get rid of it.”

  By the way she caressed her tummy, by that dreamy look she’d get whenever he did, he could see why the guy’s callous solution would upset her.

  “When I told him I wanted to keep the baby, he decided to come clean about his wife and family. I guess he figured I’d realize how a pregnancy would complicate our lives. But it wasn’t just a complication to me. His revelation made me nauseous, and I’d never suffered any morning sickness up to that point.”

  The whole thing knotted Jason’s gut, too, and he pushed his plate aside.

  “I was making plans to give my notice because Alex was an art dealer who frequented the gallery often, and I wanted to avoid him. But when he purchased half the shop and moved his family to town, I hurried the process.”

  “Does your boss know any of this?”

  “Fortunately, Alex had always insisted upon keeping our relationship quiet, although I thought it was because he was a private person—not because he didn’t want my boss to find out about us. Hopefully, no one knows how foolish I was to get involved with him in the first place.”

  Jason could understand her embarrassment. He reached for a fortune cookie and handed it to her. “I have a feeling things are going to be looking up for you from here on out.”

  “I hope so. Things couldn’t get much worse than they were two months ago.” She tore into the cellophane, cracked open her cookie, read her fortune and laughed.

  “What’s it say?”

  “‘The right choice isn’t always easy, but when you make it, your heart’s dream will come true.’”

  “See? What did I tell you?”

  “Okay, smarty-pants.” She handed him the remaining cookie. “What does yours say?”

  After reading his, he slowly shook his head. “You can’t believe this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the same as yours.”

  “No way.” She reached for his cookie. When she read his fortune, her jaw dropped. “That never happens.”

  “Are we supposed to pinky swear or something?” he asked.

  She laughed. “That’s too weird. I guess we can blame it on the cookies being mass-produced in a factory.”

  “Or fortunes being mass-printed, I guess.” As Jason packed up the carton of sweet-and-sour pork, the house phone rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Juliana said. “I was going to take the dirty plates and napkins to the kitchen anyway.”

  She answered on the third ring. “Hello?” She paused. “Braden, is that you? I’m sorry, there’s a lot of static on the line.”

  The minute Jason heard his brother’s name he got to his feet and headed into the house. Juliana hadn’t confirmed it was Braden or not, but on the outside chance that it was, he wanted to talk to him.

  “I’m here because I’m helping Jason with the inventory,” she said, pausing again, apparently listening to the voice on the other line. “I know. And I will. Let me get your brother.” Juliana handed him the receiver. “It’s Braden. But there’s a bad connection.”

  Without bothering to say hello, Jason asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I should ask you that,” Braden said. “What’s Juliana doing there?”

  “Carly had to go to San Antonio for a singing job, and she suggested that Juliana help me at the ranch.”

  “Yeah, well, watch your step with her. She’s a good girl from a decent family.”

  Jason bristled. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing, except she’s not your usual type. So I hope you won’t take advantage of her.”

  “I don’t intend to.” Did Braden know about Juliana’s pregnancy? She’d said no one else did, but he sounded so protective. Maybe he knew about her breakup.

  If so, was he staking some kind of claim on her?

  Jason didn’t like thinking that he was. Nor did he like the sense of jealousy that shimmied over him.

  The telephone line crackled, and before he lost the connection, he had a few questions for his brother. “Why are you in Mexico? And what’s the deal with Dad hiring a private investigator?”

  “He was looking for Camilla Cruz,” Braden said. “And I’m following up on that.”

  Before Jason could quiz his brother further, the line buzzed, then went dead. “Dammit.” He hung up the phone and turned to Juliana. “Did Braden ever mention Camilla Cruz?”

  “The woman who painted Granny’s portrait? No, why?”

  “Braden is in Mexico looking for her. Apparently, my father was doing the same thing. The connection was so bad, I didn’t get a chance to ask anything else.”

  “Why don’t you do an internet search on the woman and see if you can learn more about her?”

  “Good idea.”

  Leaving the food and the flickering candles on the porch, they went into the den. Jason’s laptop was only hibernating, so they didn’t have to wait long to run the search.

  Juliana stood at his side, her scent snaking around him and reminding him they’d become a team of sorts. At least, they had while working at the house.

  He’d yet to come clean about the helpful suggestions she’d given him for that art layout, though. Again, he told himself that was for the best. They had different futures mapped out for themselves, in spite of what the fortune cookies might have implied.

  Besides, she was pregnant. And Jason wasn’t cut out to be a family man.

  As the search engine screen opened up he typed, “Camilla Cruz, Artist” into the search line, then waited to see what popped up. Her website hadn’t been updated in two years, but there was a bio page.

  Camilla Cruz, a thirty-six-year-old artist, was born in San Antonio and showed talent at an early age. Her father worked on a cattle ranch in Texas and poured his life savings into art classes for her. She later opened galleries in Guadalajara and Mexico City, but had sold them recently and retired.

  At thirty-six? That was odd.

  After checking a few other sites, the only new bit of information they picked up was that she had died of breast cancer in San Diego last year.

  “It seems a simple internet search could have given my dad and Braden the answers they needed,” Jason said.

  “Maybe it merely provided them with more questions.”

  Juliana was probably right. Why had the woman been so important? If Granny were alive, he’d ask her. She would have known the answer. As it was, he was in the dark until he could get through to Braden again.

  On a whim, he reached for his iPhone and dialed his brother’s cell. But it only rang through. He must be in some remote location. Where had Braden’s search taken him? And what else had he learned about Camilla Cruz and their father’s interest in the woman that he hadn’t been able to share before the line disconnected earlier?

  “Braden’s obviously not in one of the bigger Mexican cities,” Juliana said.

  “Did he say anything else to you?” Jason asked. “Before you handed me the receiver?”

  Actually, he had. But Juliana didn’t think Jason would appreciate knowing Braden’s exact words. Be careful of my brother. He’s too much like my father.

  “You mean about Camilla?” she asked.

  Jason studied her for a moment, as if he knew she was holding something back. “Did he say anything at all?”

  She gave a little shrug. “Not really. He didn’t want you to take advantage of me, that’s all.”

  Jason stiffened. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I guess Braden isn’t so sure.”

  Probably not. Braden didn’t know much about Jason. But then, how could he? They’d never spent much time together. And even when they had, they’d kept each other at arm’s distance.

  “Are you and Braden close?” he asked.

  Juliana wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “We’re good friends. Neither of us had brothers or sisters...” She paused, realizing her mist
ake. “Well, he didn’t have any living in his house. So we leaned on each other in some ways. You know what I mean?”

  “I’m afraid not. I didn’t lean on either my brother or my sister.”

  “That’s too bad. You missed out. Carly’s a lot of fun and a very supportive friend. And Braden’s...” She let it go. Apparently, there was bad blood between them, and she wasn’t sure she should get involved in trying to mend that. She wouldn’t be around long enough.

  Jason glanced down at the desk, although she suspected he was looking right through the files and papers he’d left in piles there.

  Was he thinking about the relationships he had with his siblings? Did he wish they got along better? Or was he okay with things the way they were?

  If so, it was his loss. She’d meant what she said about Carly and Braden.

  For a moment, Jason looked a bit like a lost little boy, a child who’d had everything taken away from him. Yet that couldn’t possibly be true. He’d grown up in the lap of luxury and had everything money could buy.

  Or was that the problem? Did he realize the best things in life couldn’t be purchased?

  She wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but how could she possibly promise him a thing like that when she was doing her best to convince herself of that very thing?

  Yet her hormones—and not just the new maternal ones that were pumping inside her—were nearly overwhelming, urging her to reach out, to touch him.

  She placed her hand on his shoulder, felt the heat of his body, the strength of him. When he looked up and caught her eye, something sparked between them, connecting them in a way that went beyond words, beyond touch.

  He must have felt it, too, because he reached up and covered her hand with his, melding her to him. It was both exhilarating and unnerving at the same time, and her heart scampered in her chest like a frightened puppy that didn’t know if it should find a way out or a warm, cozy place and stay put.

  Who was Jason Rayburn? Rigid, decisive CEO? Or a strong man who’d been wounded as a child?

  Either way, she couldn’t remain connected to him or to his ranch. She slid her hand out from under his and nodded toward the doorway. “We left the candles burning outside. I’m going to blow them out.”

  “I’ll help.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  As she padded down the hall, his footsteps sounded behind her. Both Carly and Braden had told her that Jason, like their father, was self-centered and unapproachable. But she had a feeling that wasn’t true. Too bad she couldn’t stick around long enough to...

  To do what? To learn more about the man behind the myth? To fix things between the siblings? She was afraid that would take more time than she had—as well as a miracle. And she didn’t have any of those up her sleeve, either.

  In the past week, she’d gotten a lot of items inventoried and packed away, but there was still a ton to do. She hated to leave him high and dry, but there was no way she could continue working for him under the circumstances. He stirred her emotions, which were far too vulnerable, thanks to her maternal hormones. Okay, so her feminine ones were swirling around and complicating things, too.

  Not that she believed there was any truth to Braden’s warning. She really didn’t think Jason would try to take advantage of her. He seemed to be just as perplexed by their attraction as she was. But she couldn’t risk getting involved with anyone right now. Her feelings were too raw, and her future was up in the air.

  As she blew out the candles on the porch railing, Jason gathered up the leftovers, as well as the empty cartons.

  “I’m going to toss the fortunes,” he said, “unless you want to keep yours.”

  “Maybe I should keep them both to prove that they’re not as unique as people might think.”

  “And to remind you that you’ll be getting your heart’s wish, now that you decided to dump Smiley.”

  “Who?”

  “Sorry. I made up a nickname for him. Well, a couple of them, actually. But that’s the only one that’s appropriate to say in mixed company.”

  She laughed. “I have a few names I’ve called him, too. But no, go ahead and throw away the fortunes. I don’t need to keep them as a souvenir. I don’t put any stock in that sort of thing.”

  “Neither do I. Besides, I try my best to make the right decisions every day.”

  “The fortune cookie was talking about choices. That’s different.”

  “I can’t see how.”

  “A decision is made with your brain. But a choice is made with your heart.”

  He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes zeroing in on hers and sending her pulse soaring. “I thought you majored in art, not linguistics or philosophy.”

  “Believe it or not, Braden’s the one who taught me the difference.”

  “No kidding? How did he do that?”

  “I told you there was a lot about your brother you didn’t know.”

  “That’s not news to me, Juliana. My brother and I are practically strangers.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. You have a choice.”

  “So does he.”

  “But someone has to choose to make the first move.” With that, Juliana tucked three candles in the crook of her left arm, grabbed the last one and headed into the house.

  If there were anything mystical involved, it would seem that she and Jason had each received the proper fortune this evening. They both had critical choices to make—about what was right. And while he had yet to make his, she’d already made hers, which really hadn’t been difficult at all. She’d chosen to keep the baby, to break up with Alex and to move to Houston.

  Her heart’s dream had always been to become an artist or to work with art somehow. But unfortunately, that wouldn’t come true for a very long time.

  Chapter Seven

  On Saturday morning, Ralph Nettles stopped by the ranch to take a look at the property and give Jason his thoughts on an asking price.

  “I haven’t been inside since your grandmother’s funeral,” Mr. Nettles said as he eyed the stacks of boxes Juliana had packed and labeled after she’d carefully listed each item on the spreadsheet. “It’s a shame you’re not going to keep it in the family.”

  “My great-grandmother wanted one of us to live here and oversee the ranch, but my house and businesses are in Houston. My sister wants a singing career and is in San Antonio now, but she plans to travel. And Braden can’t run two places at once.”

  “That’s true.” The white-haired man nodded slowly and stroked his chin. “Braden’s granddad hasn’t been well, and so your brother will be busier than ever, especially if Gerald passes.”

  Juliana knew that Gerald Miller had been under the weather, but she hadn’t known that it was that serious.

  “What’s wrong with Mr. Miller?” Jason asked.

  “Cancer. I’ve seen him a few times when I take my wife to see her oncologist. Gerald doesn’t talk much, but he told her, at his age, he wasn’t going to fight it. He didn’t see the point. And I can’t say as I blame him. That chemo can take a lot out of a man, especially if it isn’t going to do the trick for very long.”

  Juliana wondered if Braden knew. If so, he hadn’t said anything to her. And even though he was fairly private, she suspected he would have mentioned something. She also wondered if Mr. Miller would appreciate Mr. Nettles sharing the news of his illness or his thoughts on treatment with them.

  She didn’t think so.

  “That’s too bad,” Jason said.

  “Sure is. They don’t make too many folks like the Millers. They’re good people.”

  That was true. Juliana glanced at Jason, saw his brow furrow. Had Mr. Nettles’s assessment surprised him?

  “Why don’t I show you the rest of the house,” he suggested to the Realtor. “Then I’ll take you out and give you a tour of the ranch.”

  “You aren’t going to make me saddle up, are you?” Mr. Nettles chuckled. “I used to be a pretty good rider, but these d
ays I’m a little rusty.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jason said. “We’ll take the Gator. I also have some aerial shots you can take back to the office.”

  As Jason and the Realtor left the room, Juliana went back to the work at hand. The men had no more than stepped out the back door when her cell phone rang. It was her mother.

  “Hi, honey. A Mr. Alex Montgomery from La Galleria called looking for you.”

  Juliana had expected Loren, her boss, to call about Jason’s purchase, but not Alex. “What did he have to say?”

  “Your paintings sold. He wanted to know where to mail your commission check.”

  “On my last day at work, I left your address and phone number. I instructed my boss to mail my checks to you. So there was no reason for Alex to call and ask.” In fact, she’d gone so far as to change her cell number so he couldn’t contact her directly. In spite of what she’d told him, he’d had some crazy idea that she might want to see him again anyway—on the sly, of course. And to protect her reputation. As if she’d consider such a thing.

  “I’m sorry,” her mom said. “You told me that you left on good terms, so I couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to take his call.”

  A wave of nausea rolled through Juliana’s tummy, threatening to send her rushing to the bathroom. But she swallowed it down and cleared her throat. “You didn’t tell Alex where he could find me, did you?”

  “No, but he seemed so kind and pleasant on the phone. I thought you’d be eager to talk to him yourself, especially since he has a buyer interested in purchasing more of your paintings.”

  Alex was a charmer, all right. And he’d just sweet-talked her mother into doing exactly what Juliana had asked her not to do. If she’d had a heart-to-heart with her mom when she’d first returned home, her mother would have understood and given him heck—in a pious way, of course. But Juliana hadn’t leveled with her yet.

  It wasn’t like she planned to keep the baby a secret forever. She’d tell her mom the truth—every bit of it. She just wanted to wait until she was settled in Houston and could prove that she’d be all right, that she wouldn’t need a husband or a father for her baby.

  “I didn’t want Alex to contact me here at the Rayburn ranch,” Juliana said. “I’d prefer not to talk about my future work while I’m committed to another project.”