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Tempting the Rancher

Page 2

by Brenda Jackson


  “You favor Charm, Garth’s sister.”

  Bailey nodded. “How old is Charm?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Then, you’re mistaken. I’m three years older so that means she favors me.” Bailey then resumed walking.

  * * *

  Walker Rafferty kept a tight grip on the handle of his luggage while following Bailey Westmoreland to the parking lot. She was a very attractive woman. He’d known Bailey was a beauty because of her picture. But he hadn’t expected that beauty to affect him with such mind-boggling intensity. It had been a while—years—since he’d been so aware of a woman. And her scent didn’t help. It had such an alluring effect.

  “So do you live in Fairbanks?”

  He looked at her as they continued walking. Her cocoa-colored face was perfect—all of her features, including a full pair of lips, were holding his attention. The long brown hair that hung around her shoulders made her eyes appear a dark chocolate. “No, I live on Kodiak Island. It’s an hour away from Fairbanks by air.”

  She bunched her forehead. “Kodiak Island? Never heard of the place.”

  He smiled. “Most people haven’t, although it’s the second largest island in the United States. Anchorage and Fairbanks immediately come to mind when one thinks of Alaska. But Kodiak Island is way prettier than the two of them put together. Only thing is, we have more bears living there than people.”

  He could tell by her expression that she thought he was teasing. “Trust me, I’m serious,” he added.

  She nodded, but he had a feeling she didn’t believe him. “How do people get off the island?”

  “The majority of them use the ferry, but air is most convenient for me. I have a small plane.”

  She lifted a brow. “You do?”

  “Yes.” There was no need to tell her that he’d learned to fly in the marines. Or that Garth had learned right along with him. What he’d told her earlier was true. He and Garth Outlaw had been friends since their diaper days and had not only gone to school together but had also attended the University of Alaska before doing a stint in the marines. The one thing Garth hadn’t done with Walker was remain with him in California after they left the military. And Garth had tried his hardest to talk Walker out of staying. Too bad he hadn’t listened.

  He’d been back in Alaska close to ten years now and he swore he would never leave again. Only Garth could get him off the island this close to November, his son’s birthday month. Had his son lived he would be celebrating his eleventh birthday. Thinking of Connor sent a sharp pain through Walker, one he always endured this time of year.

  He kept walking beside Bailey, tossing looks her way. Not only did she have striking features but she had a nice body, as well. She looked pretty damn good in her jeans, boots and short suede jacket.

  Deciding to remove his focus from her, he switched it to the weather. Compared to Alaska this time of year, Denver was nice. Too damn nice. He hoped the week here didn’t spoil him.

  “Does it snow here often?” he asked, to keep the conversation going. It had gotten quiet. Too quiet. And he was afraid his mind would dwell on just how pretty she was.

  “Yes, usually a lot this time of year but our worst days are in February. That’s when practically everything shuts down. But I bet it doesn’t snow here as much as in Alaska.”

  He chuckled. “You’d bet right. We have long, extremely cold days. You get used to being snowed in more so than not. If you’re smart, you’ll prepare for it because an abundance of snow is something you can count on.”

  “So what do you do on Kodiak Island?” she asked.

  They had reached her truck. The vehicle suited her. Although she was definitely feminine, she didn’t come across as the prissy type. He had a feeling Bailey Westmoreland could handle just about anything, including this powerful-looking full-size pickup. He was of the mind that there was something innately sensuous about a woman who drove a truck. Especially a woman who was strikingly sexy when she got out of it.

  Knowing she was waiting for an answer to his question, he said, “I own a livestock ranch there. Hemlock Row.”

  “A cattle ranch?”

  “No, I raise bison. They can hold their own against a bear.”

  “I’ve eaten buffalo a few times. It’s good.”

  “Any bison from Hemlock Row is the best,” he said, and didn’t care if it sounded as if he was bragging. He had every right to. His family had been in the cattle business for years, but killer bears had almost made them lose everything they had. After his parents’ deaths he’d refused to sell and allow Hemlock Row to become a hunting lodge or a commercial fishing farm.

  “Well, you’ll just have to send me some to try.”

  “Maybe you’ll get to visit the area one day.”

  “Doubt it. I seldom leave Denver,” she said, releasing the lock on the truck door for him.

  “Why?”

  “Everything I need is right here. I’ve visited relatives in North Carolina, Montana and Atlanta on occasion, and I’ve traveled to the Middle East to visit my cousin Delaney once.”

  “She’s the one who’s married to a sheikh, right?” he asked, opening the truck door.

  “Jamal was a sheikh. Now he’s king of Tehran. Evidently you’ve done research on the Westmorelands, so why the need to visit us?”

  He held her gaze over the top of the truck. “You have a problem with me being here, Bailey?”

  “Would it matter if I did?”

  “Probably not, but I still want to know how you feel about it.”

  He watched her nibble her bottom lip as if considering what he’d said. He couldn’t help studying the shape of her mouth and thinking she definitely had a luscious pair of lips.

  “I guess it bothers me that the Outlaws think we’d claim them as relatives if they weren’t,” she said, her words breaking into his thoughts.

  “You have to understand their position. To them, the story of some woman giving up her child before dying after a train wreck sounds pretty far out there.”

  “As far-out as it might sound, that’s what happened. Besides, all it would take is a DNA test to prove whether or not we’re related. That should be easy enough.”

  “Personally, I don’t think that’s the issue. I’ve seen photographs of your brothers and cousins and so have the Outlaws. The resemblance can’t be denied. The Westmorelands and the Outlaws favor too much for you not to be kin.”

  “Then, what is the issue and why are you here? If the Outlaws want to acknowledge we’re related but prefer not to have anything to do with us, that’s fine.”

  Walker liked her knack for speaking what she thought. “Not all of them feel that way, Bailey. Only Bart.”

  “Who’s Bart?” she asked, breaking eye contact with him to get into the truck.

  “Bart’s their father,” he answered, getting into the truck, as well. “Bart’s father would have been the baby that was supposedly given to his grandmother, Amelia Outlaw.”

  “And Amelia never told any of them the truth about what happened?” Bailey asked, snapping her seat belt around her waist. A waist he couldn’t help notice was pretty small. He could probably wrap his arms around it twice.

  He snapped his seat belt on, thinking the truck smelled like her. “Evidently she didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “She wouldn’t be the first person to keep an adoption a secret, if that’s what actually happened. From what Rico Claiborne said, Clarice knew she was dying and gave her baby to Amelia, who had lost her husband in that same wreck. She probably wanted to put all that behind her and start fresh with her adopted son.”

  After she maneuvered out of the parking lot, he decided to change the subject. “So what do you do?”

  She glanced over at him. “Don’t you know?”

  “It wasn’t o
n Facebook.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t put everything online. And to answer your question, I work for my sister-in-law’s magazine, Simply Irresistible. Ever heard of it?”

  “Can’t say that I have. What kind of magazine is it?”

  “One for today’s up-and-coming woman. We have articles on health, beauty, fashion and, of course, men.”

  He held her gaze when the truck came to a stop. “Why ‘of course’ on men?”

  “Because men are so interesting.”

  “Are we?”

  “Not really. But since some women think so, we have numerous articles about your gender.”

  He figured she wanted him to ask what some of those articles were, but he didn’t intend to get caught in that trap. Instead, he asked, “What do you do at the magazine?”

  “As of today I’m a features editor. I got promoted.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.” An easy smile touched her lips, lips that were nice to look at and would probably taste just as nice.

  “I find that odd,” he said, deciding to stay focused on their conversation and not her lips.

  The vehicle slowed due to traffic and she looked at him. “What do you find odd?”

  “That your family owns a billion-dollar company yet you don’t work there.”

  * * *

  Bailey broke eye contact with Walker. Was he in probing mode? Were her answers going to be scrutinized and reported back to the Outlaws?

  Walker’s questions confirmed what she’d told Dillon. Those Outlaws were too paranoid for her taste. As far as she was concerned, kin or no kin, they had crossed the line by sending Walker Rafferty here.

  But for now she would do as Dillon had asked and tolerate the man’s presence...and his questions. “There’s really nothing odd about it. There’s no law that says I have to work at my family’s corporation. Besides, I have rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “Yes,” she said, bringing the truck to a stop for a school bus. She looked over at him. “I’m the youngest in the family and while growing up, my brothers and cousins felt it was their God-given right to stick their noses in my business. A little too much to suit me. They only got worse the older I got. I put up with it at home and couldn’t imagine being around them at the office, too.”

  “So you’re not working at your family’s company because you need space?”

  “That’s not the only reason,” she informed him before he got any ideas about her and her family not getting along. “I’m not working at Blue Ridge Land Management because I chose a career that had nothing to do with real estate. Although I have my MBA, I also have a degree in journalism, so I work at Simply Irresistible.”

  She was getting a little annoyed that she felt the need to explain anything to him. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions about my family and I’m certain Dillon will be happy to answer them. We have nothing to hide.”

  “You’re assuming that I think you do.”

  “I’m not assuming anything, Walker.”

  He didn’t say anything while she resumed driving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw he’d settled comfortably in the seat and was gazing out the window. “First time in Denver?” she asked.

  “Yes. Nice-looking city.”

  “I think so.” She wished he didn’t smell so good. The scent of his aftershave was way too nice.

  “Earlier you mentioned rules, Bailey.”

  “What about them?” She figured most people had some sort of rules they lived by. However, she would be the first to admit that others were probably not as strict about abiding by theirs as she was about abiding by hers. “I’ve discovered it’s best to have rules about what I will do and not do. One of my rules is not to answer a lot of questions, no matter who’s asking. I put that rule in place because of my brother Zane. He’s always been too nosy when it came to me and he has the tendency to take being overprotective to another level.”

  “Sounds like a typical big brother.”

  “There’s nothing typical about Zane, trust me. He just likes being a pain. Because of him, I had to adopt that rule.”

  “Name another rule.”

  “Never get serious about anyone who doesn’t love Westmoreland Country as much as I do.”

  “Westmoreland Country?”

  “It’s the name the locals gave the area where my family lives. It’s beautiful and I don’t plan to leave. Ever.”

  “So in other words, the man you marry has to want to live there, too. In Westmoreland Country?”

  “Yes, if such a man exists, which I doubt.” Deciding to move the conversation off herself and back onto the Outlaws, she asked, “So how many Outlaws are there?”

  “Their father is Bart and he was an only child. He has five sons—Garth, Jess, Cash, Sloan and Maverick—and one daughter, Charm.”

  “I understand they own a freight company.”

  “They do.”

  “All of them work there?”

  “Yes. Bart wouldn’t have it any other way. He retired last year and Garth is running things now.”

  “Well, you’re in luck with my brother Aidan getting married this weekend. You’ll see more Westmorelands than you probably counted on.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Bailey was tempted to look at him but she kept her eyes on the road. She had to add sexy to his list of attributes, no matter how much she preferred not to. Josette would be the first to say it was only fair to give a deserving man his just rewards. However, Bailey hated that she found him so attractive. But what woman wouldn’t? Manly, handsome and sexy was a hot combination that could play havoc on any woman’s brain.

  “So were you born in Alaska or are you a transplant?” she asked him out of curiosity.

  “I was born in Alaska on the same property I own. My grandfather arrived in Fairbanks as a military man in the late 1940s. When his time in the military ended he stayed and purchased over a hundred thousand acres for his bride, a woman who could trace her family back to Alaska when it was owned by Russia. What about your family?”

  A smile touched Bailey’s lips. “I know for certain I can’t trace my grandmother’s family back to when Alaska was owned by Russia, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  It wasn’t and she knew it, but couldn’t resist teasing him. It evidently amused him if the deep chuckle that rumbled from his throat was anything to go by. The sound made her nipples tingle and a shiver race through her stomach. If the sound of his chuckle could do this to her, what would his touch do?

  She shook her head, forcing such thoughts from her mind. She had just met the man. Why was she feeling such a strong attraction to him? This wasn’t usually how it worked with her and men. Most of the time she thought of them as a nuisance, not an attraction.

  “You okay?”

  The truck had slowed down for traffic again and she took a quick look over at him. She wished she hadn’t when she met those gorgeous dark eyes. “Yes, why would you think I’m not?”

  “You shivered just now.”

  He had to have been watching her mighty close to have known that. “Just a little chill.”

  “Then, maybe I should turn up the heat.”

  Turn up the heat? She immediately jumped to conclusions until he reached out toward her console and turned the knob. Oh, he meant that heat. Within seconds, a blast of warmth flowed through the truck’s vents.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. Thanks,” she said, barely able to think. She needed to get a grip. Deciding to go back to their conversation by answering his earlier question, she said, “As far as my family goes, we’re still trying to find out everything we can about my great-grandfather Raphel. We didn’t even know he had a twin brother until the Atlanta Westmorelands showed up to claim us. Then Dillon began digging into Raphel’s pas
t, which led him to Wyoming. Over the years we’ve put most of the puzzle pieces together, which is how we found out about the Outlaws.”

  Bailey was glad when she finally saw the huge marker ahead. She brought the truck to a stop and looked over at him. “Welcome to Westmoreland Country, Walker Rafferty.”

  Chapter 2

  An hour later Walker stood at the windows in the guest bedroom he’d been given in Dillon Westmoreland’s home. As far as Walker could see, there was land, land and more land. Then there were the mountains, a very large valley and a huge lake that ran through most of the property. From what he’d seen so far, Westmoreland Country was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as his spread in Kodiak. Almost, but not quite. As far as he was concerned, there was no place as breathtaking as Hemlock Row, his family home.

  He’d heard the love and pride in Bailey’s voice when she talked about her home. He fully understood because he felt the same way about his home. Thirteen years ago a woman had come between him and his love for Hemlock Row, but never again. Now he worked twice as hard every day on his ranch to make up for the years he’d lost. Years when he should have been there, working alongside his father instead of thinking he could fit into a world he had no business in.

  But then no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t change the past. Wishing he’d never met Kalyn wouldn’t do because if he hadn’t met her, there never would have been Connor. And regardless of everything, especially all the lies and deceit, his son had been the one person who’d made Walker’s life complete.

  Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Walker moved away from the window to unpack. Earlier, he’d met Dillon and Ramsey, along with their wives, siblings and cousins. From his own research, Walker knew the Denver Westmorelands’ story. It was heartbreaking yet heartwarming. They had experienced sorrows and successes. Both Dillon’s and Ramsey’s parents had been killed in a plane crash close to twenty years ago, leaving Dillon, who was the eldest, and Ramsey, the second eldest, to care for their thirteen siblings and cousins.

  Dillon’s parents had had seven sons—Dillon, Micah, Jason, Riley, Canyon, Stern and Brisbane. Ramsey’s parents had eight children, of which there were five sons—Ramsey, Zane, Derringer and the twins, Aidan and Adrian—and three daughters—Megan, Gemma and Bailey. The satisfying ending to the story was that Dillon and Ramsey had somehow managed to keep all their siblings and cousins together and raise them to be respectable and law-abiding adults. Of course, that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any hiccups along the way. Walker’s research had unveiled several. It seemed the twins—Adrian and Aidan—along with Bailey and Bane, the youngest of the bunch, had been a handful while growing up. But they’d all made something of themselves.

 

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