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Though he was watching her face closely for a clue about why she’d come here and brought up the subject of the homestead, he saw nothing. Her features were now as blank as uncarved stone.
“Since Hank owns Four C’s and he’s not offering it, you and I’ve got nothing to talk about.”
Hallie’s gaze dropped from his. She unfolded the packet of papers. He sensed that the reason her slim, competent fingers were taking care to flatten the creases in the documents was because she was giving herself time to recover from his rebuff. It was also a delay.
She finished with the task and looked over at him. Her voice was the same clear, even and distinct tone that was evidence of how closely she guarded herself.
“You should have all the facts about ownership before you make that decision. I need to know if you want the parcel.”
It was a small showdown. A test of wills. He felt a spark of satisfaction. Hallie Corbett had a backbone behind all that mystery and guarded caution.
“Yes, Ms. Corbett, I’m interested in the parcel. Have a seat and tell me why you think you and I have anything to talk about.”
Hallie handed over the papers. She sat down in the chair and braced her elbows on the chair arms. She laced her fingers together and regarded him steadily as he sat down on the swivel chair behind his desk.
“If you’d read the highlighted section…”
Hallie let her voice trail off. She couldn’t bring herself to say more. The shame she felt was overwhelming suddenly. Why on earth had she ever thought Wes Lansing would marry her? He wasn’t the sort of man who’d ever consider marriage to someone like her, not even to get something he wanted. Unless he valued that land as much as she valued Four C’s, he’d find her situation laughable.
And when he laughed, then perhaps ridiculed her, it would be over. She’d withstand whatever he said or did, then make an escape that would be something only a little less dramatic than running away like a scalded dog. She’d go to Four C’s, pack her things, then indulge in a last farewell.
It could be over by nightfall. She’d get a room in town until Hank’s funeral, then be on her way to a new life far from the shame and pain and loss that were the only legacy she could ever claim here. Her eyes stung and she clenched her teeth together so hard that they hurt, but she’d claw her eyes out before she’d show tears to a Lansing or anyone else.
She focused on Wes’s face as he read the section, waiting for the moment he realized what the clause meant and what she was here to suggest.
While she watched his gaze sweep left to right and drop down line by line, she witnessed his stern expression evolve into harshness. She saw the hint of anger in the way the hard line of his mouth tightened. She’d figured him for a second read through, but his dark gaze shot up and arrowed into hers.
“What the hell kind of Will is this?”
She didn’t answer because she didn’t know what to say. “I’d like to inherit Four C’s, but I can’t meet the conditions. I thought you should be informed. In case—”
She cut herself off. She couldn’t bring herself to actually make the proposal. Suddenly she wanted to be anyplace but here. For once, the shame she was about to earn for herself seemed far more traumatic than losing the Four C’s.
“I hope you’ll pardon me, Mr. Lansing.” She got up and stepped to the desk. “You were right. We have nothing to discuss.”
She put out a hand for the papers. “I’ll be on my way.”
That last came out on a voiceless gust. Emotions she could barely contain came roaring up and it took everything she had to appear indifferent. “If I might have the papers?”
Wes’s gaze was riveted to hers, making it impossible to break contact. He ignored her request. “Do you trust Hank to honor this Will?”
Hallie withdrew her hand. He was angry, but it wasn’t directed at her. She kept silent as he went on.
“What will you do if he makes another one?”
Hallie fought to keep her gaze locked with his. “I’ve lived with him all my life, Mr. Lansing. I’m aware of the risk.”
“But you came here anyway.”
She could tell nothing from his harsh expression, but she didn’t detect scorn. And she was a master at that.
“I want Four C’s.”
“You’re crazy to think he’ll let you have it.”
The words sent a wave of shame through her. Even Hank Corbett’s enemies knew how little he thought of her.
“You came here for…what?”
A long moment dragged by as she debated what to say. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him outright that she’d come here with a marriage arrangement in mind.
“I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
Wes’s hard gaze was unrelenting. “How sick is he?”
“Terminal. He could die tonight or he could live a month. They moved him into Intensive Care late this morning.”
“D’you think your cousin would sell me the homestead?”
The question stung. Of course he’d pass over her and go straight to Candice. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about her cousin. Candice was beautiful, and she’d soon be a fabulously wealthy heiress. The right man might be able to control her and Hallie sensed that if Wes Lansing couldn’t do it, it couldn’t be done. He might not be as immune to her cousin as she’d thought.
“She doesn’t care about Four C’s. I expect her to sell it at the first opportunity. You should be able to deal with the new owner.”
“But you can’t swear she’ll sell out.”
“You could buy the parcel from her.”
His stern mouth twisted. “With strings attached.”
“Then you understand Candice.”
Wes tossed the Will onto the desk and looked away from her. She started to reach for the papers, but his growl froze her midreach. “Leave ’em.”
“I need to be on my way,” she said quietly. It wouldn’t matter if the copy stayed here. The important thing now was to escape. Wes Lansing was simmering, and she had no desire to watch a boil over.
He glared across the desk at her. “So it comes down to a choice between you and Candice.” It wasn’t a question. His glare deepened as he nodded toward her chair. “Sit down. You started this, and by God, you’ll see it through.”
His harshness chilled her. Some faint stir of spirit made her resist. She’d allowed her pride to be trampled by her family all her life. She’d choked on the shreds so she could come to Red Thorn for this last chance. She’d be damned if she let Wes Lansing walk over the battered bits she had left.
“You can keep the Will. Throw it away. Thank you for your time.” She turned away from the desk, but she got only two steps before his hard voice stopped her in her tracks.
“You’ll not shame me.”
The terse words made her glance back at him. “What?”
His dark eyes were fiery and when he slowly stood, she got a frightening impression of power and iron will.
“I won’t stand up in front of a justice of the peace with a woman who’s dressed like a cowhand.”
Hallie turned fully toward him as the shock of what he’d said pounded at her. Surely she’d not heard right.
“We’ll fly to Vegas now and be married by tonight.” He’d made a decision and issued a decree. And in the spirit of old-time cattle kings, he expected instant obedience.
Maybe he didn’t understand the risk. To suddenly capitulate to her unspoken marriage proposal had to mean he didn’t take the hazard seriously.
“You were right the first time. Hank will never honor that Will. If he recovers from today’s setback and even suspects I’ve married, he’ll call his lawyer and change it. Then you’d be stuck with me.”
“I won’t be stuck with you. There’s always annulment.”
The words lashed at her and she fought to keep her voice steady. “By then, you’ll have alienated Candice. She’d never take something that once belong—” She cut herself off. “Not that you really would have, but she’d see it that way. She’d never give you a chance at the homestead.”
“Too late.” His low words sent a shiver through her, and she rushed to make her point.
“Though the Will doesn’t prohibit me from marrying you, I think we both know how Hank will take it if he finds out.” She looked away from him, unable to bear the conflagration in his dark eyes. “This was a foolish idea. Hank wasn’t serious about that Will. He only wrote it to—” she cut herself off, ashamed to reveal the whole truth. “If he lives long enough, he’ll change it anyway. It was a huge imposition to bother you. My apologies.”
She was so scattered suddenly, so profoundly mortified by what she’d done, that she didn’t realize Wes had come around the desk. When his fingers closed around her arm she jumped.
“We can leave for Vegas now. I’ll buy whatever you need when we get there.”
She looked up at him, searching his granite expression for a clue to such tenacity.
The feel of steely strength in his hard fingers sent a flurry of heat and electricity through her that took her breath away. She’d never felt anything like this, and she was both excited and terrified. She shook her head, so dazed and weak-kneed that she felt faint.
“No—”
“We’ll get a lawyer for the prenup. If the old man dies before he can change the will, I want it in writing that you’ll sell me the homestead.”
She shook her head. “But—I’d give it to you.”
“I’ll pay cash. Fair market value.”
He was implacable. Why had she come to this man? It was true, she’d started this, but she wasn’t certain now that she had the courage to finish it. And the biggest reason was Wes Lansing himself. He was too strong for her, too formidable.
“I’m going back to Four C’s, Mr. Lansing. Thank you, but this was a mistake.”
“We made a decision.”
Hallie shook her head. “A decision neither of us can live with. Hank will either die before we can marry or he’ll recover and change the will.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“Then we’ll both lose.”
If it was possible, Wes’s features grew more harsh. The hard sparkle in his dark eyes was intimidating. “We could both win. Like I said, you started this. You’re gonna see it through.”
She tried to pull away from him, but his fingers tightened. He rattled her, excited her and scared her half to death. There was a core reason the Corbetts and Lansings had been at war so many years: they were exactly alike. Hank Corbett was harsh, domineering and unforgiving, and Wes Lansing was cut from the same cloth.
Yet in spite of that, she felt herself respond to him. Instinct told her this was something sexual, something so alien in her experience as a female that she didn’t know how to cope with it.
And because she didn’t, she suddenly understood why Wes terrified her. He had the power to do what her grandfather hadn’t quite managed: Wes Lansing could destroy her. She had to find some way to defend herself, some way to stop this.
“Which means, it’s my fault when the bargain goes wrong. No thanks, Lansing.”
She almost couldn’t bear the sharpness in his gaze as it cut over her face. “I’ll take responsibility.”
The vow stunned her. She was always blamed. Why should things be different with him? If anything, it would be worse.
“Is that the truth?” She watched temper surge into his dark eyes. But then, she’d just called his honor into question.
His low voice made it clear. “The first thing you need to learn about me is that I mean what I say.”
She couldn’t tell if he’d meant that as a comfort or a threat.
CHAPTER TWO
THE second thing Hallie learned about Wes Lansing was that he was a despot. Domineering and exacting, with a faint edge of impatience that she sensed more than saw. Before they left Texas, they saw an attorney to draw up the prenuptial agreement that sealed their bargain for the Lansing homestead. They’d also put in writing an agreement that kept either of them from making claim to money or property either of them currently owned or might inherit in the future.
Through it all, Wes seemed to watch every move she made and having so much attention was wearing. She was accustomed to being invisible, so his constant surveillance twisted her nerves so tight that her body felt as taut as piano wire. Her head was pounding by the time their plane touched down in Las Vegas.
In the brisk manner she was quickly coming to expect, Wes ushered her off the jet and through the airport terminal. Unburdened by luggage, they were outside in the Nevada heat far ahead of the swarm of tourists who had packed their flight from Texas. Wes chose the nearest cab and they got in.
Once they’d gotten a marriage license, the afternoon descended into a whirlwind course through the largest shopping mall in Las Vegas. Hours later, they walked out to a waiting cab with the boxes and bags that contained everything Wes decreed was needed for their wedding.
At least she’d paid for her own clothing. Pride dictated it, and a healthy personal bank account made it possible. Neither of them considered the pomp and extravagance of a traditional wedding dress, but she’d ended up buying more than the dress she would wear for the ceremony. Because she owned little more than jeans and work clothes, she took the opportunity to buy three other dresses that appealed to her, along with shoes and lingerie.
Once she’d gone that far, she stopped at a salon where her long hair was shampooed, trimmed, then twisted into a classic style atop her head. She’d even visited a cosmetics counter. Though she’d felt silly letting the clerk talk her into an array of cosmetics, the woman had engineered something of a makeover.
Why had she allowed that?
As Hallie stood in front of the full-length mirror in their hotel suite, she saw her answer in the polished glass.
She no longer looked like a ranch hand; she was a bride. The white linen dress and matching jacket she wore were elegant and sophisticated. The white floppy-brimmed hat that rested stylishly on her upswept hair framed a face that the subtle enhancement of light makeup and lip color had made lovely.
She hadn’t known she could look like this. Hadn’t suspected. The stifling extreme that kept her every word and act under rigid control had also dictated her secret aversion to adopting any manner or look that could even remotely be interpreted as a challenge to Candice. It had meant no makeup, no stylish hairstyles, no feminine clothes. She’d smothered almost every natural desire or instinct that might have invited unpleasant comparisons. Or ridicule.
Wes had given her an excuse to indulge her long repressed instincts and she’d gone a little overboard. He now had a bride who wouldn’t shame him in front of a justice of the peace, but she could never go back to the Four C’s looking like this. After the ceremony, the fine clothing and makeup would come off. Everything she’d bought today would be neatly folded into a box or a bag and the magic would be hidden away in a closet in her bungalow on Four C’s. Because it was essential to keep their marriage secret, she doubted anyone but Wes Lansing would ever see her like this. She struggled against the private pain of that.
His bride was a Corbett. He’d kept that fact firmly in mind all afternoon and he’d watched her closely for any sign of perfidy. At first, he’d seen nothing but a reserved, aloof young woman. But the way her gaze frequently shied from his until she rarely looked his way, made him increasingly suspicious. What were her real motives for marriage?
Wes took this moment to study her as he looked through the open door into the suite’s bedroom. Unaware of him, Hallie stared into the cheval mirror in the corner. The unguarded play of emotion that crossed her face fascinated him. She searched her reflection as if she’d never seen it before. And maybe she hadn’t. He knew instantly that it wasn’t conceit that made her stare at herself, it was surprise. The chic female image in the glass bore no trace of the ranch hand he’d left Texas with.
He read her wistful, almost poignant expression and got a fresh glimpse into what her life had been like. Candice Corbett was a spoiled, selfish little witch. The shy, reclusive Hallie probably suffered enough from her cousin without calling attention to the fact that she was beautiful enough to put Candice in the shade if she’d ever half tried.
What kind of female was Halona Corbett? Why would she put up with the mistreatment of her family years past age eighteen when she could have left home and struck out on her own?
He’d seen the passion in her eyes when she’d said she’d not been able to stand by and do nothing to get Four C’s, and yet instinct told him she’d stayed for more than a ranch. Could she have been so undermined by her upbringing that she didn’t realize that she could go anywhere else and have a better life? Did she have so little self-confidence?
Or did she cling to the ideal of loyalty and duty to family? There was no way to equate family loyalty and duty with her choice to marry into the clan that took up the other side in a generations-long feud. Unless it was part of some new Corbett scheme. Could she be using him in some twisted way to earn her grandfather’s approval?
