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Her heart quailed with dread. She glanced away from him, seeking relief from the sharp search his dark eyes made of hers.
“About what my father asked, I had nothing to do with that,” she told him. “I refuse to let him…”
The frustration of wanting to declare her intentions without saying too much about her true relationship with her father made it difficult. Her gaze shifted back to Ford’s just in time to see him step toward her and reach for her arm.
“Let’s go to the house, Miz Lambert, get something cool to drink. We can talk there.”
Rena froze that second before his strong fingers closed warmly around her arm. She tried not to flinch, but she couldn’t seem to control that. She couldn’t control the sudden, baffling weakness of her legs as she turned with him to start through the stable to go to the house.
She’d had no fear of the runaway stallion, no worries about standing her ground and catching his lead to calm him down, but she was terrified of this, so terrified. And the grimness about Ford now further unsettled her.
Could he feel the small earthquake his touch set off? The pleasure-fear of his warm grip surged so strongly that the moment they were through the stable, she pulled her arm away. Horrified that the awkward movement suggested she couldn’t bear his touch another moment, she faltered to a halt. So did he, and his calm gaze fastened on hers.
Her mouth went dry with bad nerves and it was a struggle to get the words out.
“I mean no offense to you, Mr. Harlow. What my father suggested…I won’t be part of that. Good day.”
She cringed inwardly at the stiff way it had come out, particularly the clumsy formality of that last. Good day. Fake-sounding and pretentious in a way that sent heat to her face and a sick feeling to her stomach. And she’d meant to say it then walk to her pickup and leave, but her legs were trembling and she couldn’t seem to move.
The sick feeling deepened as Ford’s expression went grim. Her worked up emotions felt the shock of the sudden change all the way to her feet.
“The drought’s getting worse, Ms. Lambert. I need the water on that west section.”
The drought of the past two years had depleted water resources in that part of Texas. Lambert Ranch had also been affected, but it was still water rich. Enough so that her father could let that west section go to Ford Harlow and still have plenty.
“Make my father an offer, but ask to lease the land. He’s cutting back on stock, so the cash will come in handy.”
It was a confidential bit of information that caused her a strong pang of guilt, but the truth was Abner was growing more difficult to work with, and he now had trouble keeping good ranch hands. Hence the cutback in livestock.
Ford’s stern expression hardened even more and for the first time, Rena got a clear glimpse of harshness and implacability. The kindness she’d seen in him before suddenly seemed as much a rippling mist above hard pavement as any other mirage.
She realized then that her secret fantasies about this man had been just as foolish and naive as her hope that her father would at last approve of her. She should have guessed that Ford Harlow was a harsh, implacable man. He was successful and he ruled his own small Texas empire. There could be no true softness in him, no sign of anything that wasn’t domineering and driven for him to be able to rule over so much and several other business interests as well. She’d always been intimidated by him, but she’d not thought it was due to more than his rugged good looks or his terse, no-nonsense manner.
She’d been wrong. Particularly after what she’d grown up with, she should have been able to see Ford Harlow for what he was: a man like her father. Not emotionally twisted like Abner—at least she hoped not—but hard and driven to have the world bow down at a finger snap. A man who felt entitled to get his way however it affected lesser mortals.
Nothing changed on Ford’s stern face, so she added more. “Ask him to lease you the land. He’ll will Lambert Ranch to Frank Casey, and Frank will likely need to sell off that section to pay inheritance taxes. There’s no reason for…” Her voice choked to a whisper and she felt her face heat. “No reason for you—”
She cut herself off and glanced away to finish it. “People don’t do that kind of thing anymore. At least, not where it’s civilized.”
The silence between them thundered in her ears. God help her, she didn’t have the courage to both wait for his comment and watch his stern face while he said it.
“People do still do it, Ms. Lambert. Your father and I aren’t quite done negotiating, but I expect you and I could join the ranks of the uncivilized any day now.”
Rena’s gaze shot back to his solemn look. Her soft, “No,” was as choked with disbelief as it was spontaneous.
“The forecast is skimpy on rain and I’m tired of hauling in water at a premium price.”
Rena shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from the rocky sternness of his rugged face. “You can’t marry a stranger for a piece of land. Marriage ought to mean more than that.”
The sternness on his face didn’t change by a flicker. “It should mean more than that, but often doesn’t. It ought to mean more than lust and it ought to mean more than bringing a new generation into the world. But most times it is about convenient sex and having kids.”
“What about…love?” It was a bold and intimate question for her to ask, but it had come out almost without her permission.
Now his stern mouth relaxed into a faint curve. “You are young, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “And naive. Besides which, Abner’s in an almighty hurry and I’m not sure the drought gives us time for more than an agreement and a ceremony.”
He hadn’t truly answered her question, or had he? What he was saying was that his mind was made up. He wanted the land and he’d marry her without a second thought to get it.
Convenient sex and having kids. Apparently those were his only requirements beyond getting his hands on the west section of Lambert Ranch. Why that caused her incredible pain was no surprise to a woman who’d had so little love in her life that she’d fantasized about having at least a little someday.
Disappointment made her heart quiver and feel heavy. Her soft, “I’m packing to leave today” was little more than a whisper. She couldn’t seem to control the sad undertone in her words, so she finished quickly. “Your business is with my father, not me.”
She turned to start for her pickup and escape, but Ford’s voice brought her to an abrupt halt.
“I’m still negotiating with your father. He either wills Lambert to you outright, or there’s no deal.”
Startled by that, Rena looked back at him. “What?”
The stern line of his mouth curved slightly, but the dark glitter in his eyes banished any impression of humor. “You heard right. I’d be getting more than a wife, so you should get more than a husband. And just so you know, no man’s going to devalue my wife to the level of brood mare.”
It took a few seconds for her to absorb that, and she searched his face, looking for any sign that she’d misheard. Hadn’t he just said that marriage often didn’t mean more than convenient sex and having children? So why would he now say something that seemed opposite that? And something that so strongly hinted at a streak of protectiveness and maybe possessiveness?
“Tell Abner I’ll be by later,” he continued, as if he was oblivious to her reaction, though she knew he must have sensed it. “If things don’t work out and you go through with your plan to leave, I might have a job for you. See if you’re as good with horses as people say.” He paused and his voice lowered to a gravelly drawl. “I suspect they’re right.”
A compliment. Rena didn’t know how to take it, she didn’t know how to take any of the astonishing things he’d said to her. The rush of pleasure—profound pleasure—was unfamiliar and she was suddenly incapable of doing more than keeping her reaction under rigid control. Her face felt like a stiff mask.
Her perception—that Ford Harlow was a man like her father—had abruptly reversed. The odd sense that he was on her side and that when he saw her father he would be her advocate, was astonishing. No one had taken her side against her father since before her aunt’s death when she was eight.
A whisper of trust gusted over her heart, but the offer of a job was almost as terrifying as the thought of marrying him. Anything that would amount to being near this man on a regular basis was terrifying. And exciting.
She prayed her soft, “I’ll tell him,” didn’t reveal anything deeper than her agreement to tell her father to expect his arrival. She still couldn’t respond to the rest of what he’d said. Seconds rushed on and she felt them acutely. The best she could do was give him a faint nod and turn away to walk to her pickup.
CHAPTER TWO
THE Lambert Ranch west section had once been a ranch of its own, and though Harlow ancestors had bought up other properties further west, the original owner had sold the piece to a Lambert. On a modern-day map, the parcel would look like a hefty bite into the eastern boundary of Harlow Ranch.
In the time it had taken Rena to pack her things from the house and load everything into her pickup, she’d decided that Ford had changed his mind. He’d probably elected to wait for Frank Casey and his sons to inherit. Besides, Harlow Ranch was already vast. The most the parcel would add to it besides more grazing and water, was a straighter eastern boundary.
Given that, there was no logical reason for Ford Harlow to go to the extreme of shackling himself to a woman he barely knew, particularly a female who was far less than a man like him should have to settle for. Desperation might put a man in that situation, but Ford was hardly desperate. The drought was a drain on his resources, but little more. Other than the challenge of bargaining to at last get the section, there could be no other reason than greed or ego to marry her to get it.
And, if greed or ego was the reason, marrying a woman whom everyone considered mannish and undesirable was hardly the kind of showy marriage match expected of such a man.
Because she’d assumed Ford had changed his mind, his arrival was a surprise, but it was a shock when he insisted that she be present during his negotiations with her father.
That negotiation quickly degraded to a virtual showdown. The tension in the den was excruciating, though it was mostly hers. Her father sat stiffly behind his desk, his ongoing irritation evident. Ford leaned back comfortably in one of the wing chairs that his size seemed to dwarf, one booted ankle resting casually on the opposite knee. Rena was too jittery to sit and stood at the side of the room.
Her father, in a perpetual black mood, glared across the desk at the man who gave every impression of being untroubled by the old man’s increasing surliness.
Abner’s voice was sharp. “You want the land bad enough, you’ll marry the girl.”
Ford let a moment pass, as if to emphasize what he was about to say. Abner leaned forward, drawn by his impatience for a response.
“If I marry your daughter, she’ll be my legal wife. I won’t let my wife suffer a slight that’s in my power to prevent, and I won’t profit by a marriage that won’t also profit her.”
Ford’s solemn declaration sent a flush of anger to her father’s face. “And I can put in my will that no Harlow can ever get that land,” he railed. “Frank Casey’ll have to abide by that, so she’s your only chance to get it.”
Ford was unperturbed by the threat. “The land is yours, do what you want with it. But you need to realize you’ve given her no reason to give me the time of day.”
The old man hit the desk with his fist. “She’ll marry you because she does what I say.”
“She’s packed to leave, Abner, so it’s clear you’ve lost any say over her.”
Now Abner shot Rena a furious look. “She’ll get a husband outta this deal she’d never get otherwise.”
Rena did her best to appear unfazed by yet another of her father’s insults. She was already impatient to leave the room and be on her way. She might have left the room that moment, but Ford spoke.
“How do you know I couldn’t win her over and persuade her to marry me?” The hard look on Ford’s face said he’d taken Abner’s remark as an insult to his romantic abilities as a man, rather than the way her father had meant it: that Rena couldn’t get a husband unless her father bribed one.
Abner seemed confused for a moment, then flushed as he understood Ford’s interpretation of his remark. Rena felt a rare spurt of amusement and relaxed the tiniest bit. Ford went on.
“The only one you need to lure into this deal is your daughter.”
The old man got to his feet. “She’s got no business turnin’ it down as it stands.”
“She’s smarter than that. You put it in writing that she inherits Lambert, and I’ll marry her to get the west section signed over to me right away.”
The profanities her father spewed for those next seconds weren’t a surprise to Rena, and evidently not to Ford either, who seemed untroubled by them. Abner finished with a furious, “What do I get outta this?”
The question spoke volumes to Rena. What Abner would have gotten under the terms of his proposal was another way to slight his only child and the satisfaction of putting her in a situation with the potential to cause her hurt.
Rena was hardly surprised by that, but it shamed her now that she’d stayed so long with someone who bore her such ill will.
“You get control over who she marries,” Ford answered smoothly.
“I can marry her off to anybody,” Abner railed back.
Ford smiled then, but there was something calculating about it. “Will Lambert pride be satisfied by just anybody? Or did you choose me because a Harlow’s considered a worthy match for a Lambert? What about that son you wanted her to have? Will just anybody have the pedigree to suit you?”
It was either a brilliant argument that played up to Abner’s pride or a sign of ego and arrogance.
Just so you know, I won’t let any man devalue my wife to the level of brood mare. The talk of a worthy match and a pedigree seemed to contradict that declaration, but the abrupt absence of bad temper in Abner as he appeared to give the argument serious consideration suggested that whatever Ford’s true opinion was, he’d managed to target the one thing that might give her a chance to directly inherit Lambert Ranch.
He’d also managed to completely distract her father from his grudge against her. Rena held her breath. She’d seen her father’s ability to reason deteriorate these past years, but this was the first time she’d seen anyone use it against him.
She immediately felt guilty for the satisfaction she felt, though years of her father’s cruelty made it impossible to not be a little glad to see someone use his pride to manipulate him.
“All right.”
Rena felt the room tilt a bit as she stared at her father and heard his words.
Abner gave a decisive nod and repeated, “All right. She inherits.”
“I’ll need to see a will and I want the details in writing by the end of the week. I’ll marry your daughter the day the land deed is signed over.”
Her father’s cranky look returned. “That’s four days.”
“We should be able to get a marriage license by then, and I want the deal on the section settled.” Ford glanced her way and she struggled to keep her expression impassive. “Unless she wants more time to plan a wedding.”
Quiet satisfaction glinted in Ford’s dark gaze. He’d bargained with her father and won. He’d done what he’d set out to do and he gave no sign that he expected her to refuse the deal.
And how could she? She’d toiled for years in hope of one day inheriting the land that was her birthright. She’d endured a lifetime of pain to get the one thing she had a right to expect aside from her father’s love and approval. Not getting those had sharpened her craving to get the ranch, to get at least one thing she had a moral right to. Ford Harlow had managed to get it for her and according to the deal, she owed him a marriage.
Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Four days is enough.”
The glimmer in Ford’s eyes flared stronger before he looked back at her father. Rena suddenly couldn’t bear another moment in the room, particularly when Ford showed no sign that he was leaving soon. It relieved her that neither man remarked or called her back when she quietly walked out.
Rena found her father’s housekeeper, Myra, and told her goodbye before she headed down to the stable for her horses. She should be thrilled to inherit Lambert Ranch, but the thrill was dampened by her terror of marrying Ford.
Besides, there was always the chance her father would change his mind. She didn’t trust his sudden capitulation. By tomorrow—or even later today—he could change his mind and the deal would be canceled.
And even if he didn’t cancel the deal right away, there was no way to be certain her father would keep his word about Lambert Ranch indefinitely. Abner was in reasonably good health for a man his age, so it could be years before he passed away. That gave him years to find a way to thwart any legal document Ford tried to hold him to.
Until her father either passed away or reneged on the deal, Rena would be married to Ford. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that this marriage was the forever kind, whatever happened with her father. They’d made a deal for land. Ford would have his right away, but it was completely possible that Abner would somehow prevent her from ever receiving hers.
The whole thing could end up in the courts, and Rena’s personal assets were not enough for a prolonged fight. And a court fight would as much as advertise the fact that she and Ford had married for land. Besides, Ford would have long ago got what he wanted, so why would he bother with that kind of trouble?
Whatever happened between now and then, she’d have a marriage and she’d be a wife. What kind of marriage would it be now that Ford seemed to have effectively negotiated away her father’s specific requirement for a male heir? Without the need for a son to ensure that Lambert Ranch was passed down to blood family, would Ford be interested in having children with her?
She wasn’t even certain she wanted children, at least not unless having them was evidence of a solid marriage with everything a solid marriage meant, particularly love. Perhaps Ford felt the same way and he’d subtly negotiated a male heir out of the agreement because he had no desire to have children tie him to a woman he couldn’t love.
And what if he’d negotiated so boldly with her father because he expected a marriage to her wouldn’t last long? Abner was seventy-five and a marriage need last only until the will was read.
When she reached the stable, Frank Casey, his two sons and several of the men waited. Frank and his sons had gathered her tack and collected her horses. Frank had hooked up the horse trailer he was loaning to her, but most of them knew nothing more than the fact that she was leaving Lambert Ranch.
They hadn’t loaded her two horses and the yearling filly that belonged to her, but the well-cared-for animals were tethered nearby. It surprised her a bit when all the men politely removed their hats in a rare show of formality. Frank spoke when she reached them.
“We’re all sorry your leavin’, Miz Lambert. Not sure how many’ll care to stay on after you go.”
Rena had privately informed Frank that her father had mentioned willing the ranch to him and his sons. She’d decided it was fair to let him know because if it actually was her father’s plan to will Frank the ranch, Frank could spoil that for himself and his sons by quitting as foreman. Frank had rejected the notion, and it was clear he’d disapproved of her father cutting her out of her rightful inheritance.
She nodded. “I trust your judgment about whatever you and the others decide, Frank, but I need to do this.”
Frank nodded solemnly and she shook his hand. His sons were next, then the men. All were somber. She briefly exchanged good-luck wishes with each of them as Frank loaded her horses.
Rena had got along well with everyone on Lambert Ranch, but her father had always resented any sign that the men felt strong loyalty to her. The more surly and difficult Abner had become, the more the men had looked to her for decisions, though he never suspected how often that happened. Between her and the men, Lambert Ranch had managed to run reasonably well, in spite of Abner’s irrational decrees.
Rena wouldn’t tell anyone about the possibility that she might be marrying Ford Harlow because, besides feeling embarrassed about the circumstances, she couldn’t truly believe she’d actually marry Ford. She’d lived her whole life with this kind of uncertainty, and she’d hated that, but it was always best to keep expectations for good low. Though in this case, it was hard to know which outcomes were good and which ones weren’t.
Several of the men had either returned to the headquarters or stayed nearby after word had gotten around that she was leaving, so once they’d bid her a proper goodbye, they started back to work.
