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“Ah, yes, we’re expecting you. Come in. I’m Henry, sir.”
Mike stepped into a wide entryway with a huge crystal chandelier centered overhead above a small pond where a fountain splashed and deep purple and bright pink water lilies added to the ambiance. It was hard to picture the down-to-earth, tough US Army Ranger, Thane Warner as the owner of this elegant mansion.
“If you’ll wait here, sir, I’ll tell Mrs. Warner you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you,” Mike replied, nodding at the butler who turned and disappeared into a room off the hall. With neatly trimmed brown hair, Henry wore a white shirt and a matching black tie and trousers. Mike noticed he also wore boots and when he had shown Mike in, his hands looked rough. His shoulders were thick and broad. Mike suspected Henry might not spend all his time working inside the mansion.
He reappeared. “If you’ll come with me, sir, Mrs. Warner is in the study.” Mike followed him until Henry stopped at an open door. “Mrs. Warner, this is Mike Moretti.”
“Come in, Mr. Moretti,” she said, smiling as she walked toward him.
He entered a room filled with floor-to-ceiling shelves of leather-bound books. After the first glance, he forgot his surroundings and focused solely on the woman approaching him.
Mike had seen Thane’s pictures of his wife—one in his billfold, one he carried in his duffel bag. Mike knew from those pictures that she was pretty. But those pictures hadn’t done her justice, because in real life, Vivian Warner was a downright beauty. She had big blue eyes, shoulder-length blond hair, flawless peaches-and-cream complexion and full rosy lips. The bulky, conservative tan sweater and slacks she wore couldn’t fully hide her womanly curves and long legs.
What had he gotten himself into? For a moment he was tempted to go back on his promise. But as always, he would remember those last hours with Thane’s blood running over his hands, recall too easily Thane dying in a foreign land after fighting for his country, and Mike knew he had to keep his promise. His only hope was that Thane’s widow wouldn’t want him to work for her.
“Mr. Moretti, I’m glad to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Thane,” she said, offering her hand.
“It’s Mike,” he said, smiling as he took her soft hand in his. The moment he did, he felt a tingling up his arm that shocked him.
“And I’m Vivian,” she said, her eyes widening when his hand wrapped around hers. Her words came out breathlessly, making Mike feel he had walked into a major disaster. Their gazes locked and he couldn’t get his breath, either. For a moment he felt a hot, intense awareness of her as a woman. A very desirable woman. And judging by her startled expression and the quick intake of her breath, he had a feeling she felt a similar reaction.
His focus shifted to her lips, a rosy temptation. Realizing they were staring at each other and standing too close, he released her hand. When he did, she stepped back, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Perhaps she labeled the attraction as unwanted as he did.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mike said. “Your husband was a friend I’ll miss,” he added, trying to get his mind back to Thane instead of on his widow.
“Thank you. Thane was special. Please have a seat,” she said softly. She walked toward an arrangement of chairs and as he followed, he couldn’t take his eyes off the curve of her hips.
Mike did not want this scalding awareness of his late buddy’s wife. And he damn well didn’t want to work for Vivian Warner.
Perhaps... He couldn’t help the thought that overtook his mind. Perhaps, because she knew so little about ranching, if he took the job, she would turn running the ranch over to him and he would seldom see or talk to her. Maybe, but... Common sense told him to thank her for the job and decline the offer. But each time he thought about backing off, he knew he had to keep his promise. Thane had fought and died not only for rights, freedom and home, but for promises kept and for trusted friends. He had fought for this ranch he loved and the wife he loved. Mike also thought about that fat packet of money Thane had given him, money he’d already squirreled away and invested.
Mike would do what he felt was right, but he hoped with all his being that he rarely ever saw his new boss. This was not the woman for him and there were more than a billion reasons—each and every one of the billions she was worth. Vivian Warner was an heiress, his friend’s wife, the woman Thane had entrusted to him to take care of. He couldn’t give in to the fiery attraction and seduce her—and betray that trust. For all those reasons, she was off-limits, not the least of which was the fact that he could never move in her circle.
Vivian motioned him to a brown leather wingback chair, then sat farther away than was necessary. He realized that she may have felt as trapped by this situation as he did. Thane had offered him the job and had wanted him as the foreman. Like Mike, she obviously was also following Thane’s wishes now.
“Thank you for taking this job,” she said, her voice lilting, soft-spoken. “Thane wrote a glowing letter about you and said I could count on you to run this place the way he would want. I appreciate that. I know you accepted the job when you were still in the military. Now that you’re here, I assume that means you want the job. Is that correct?”
Her question hung in the air but he couldn’t say yes. “I promised Thane I would take the job for three months to see if I fit and vice versa,” he reluctantly answered.
“So you’re here on a trial basis,” she said, her smile vanishing, and he merely nodded. “Thane had great trust in you so I hope you like it here and stay,” she continued. “Slade Jackson, our foreman, wants to retire and I can’t run this ranch. Actually, Slade runs this place as if it’s his ranch and that’s what Thane said you would do.”
“That makes my job easier,” Mike answered, wondering how often he would see her once he started work. He would have to report in, let her know what was going on, but that didn’t have to be a daily occurrence or even by direct contact. Email would be a salvation.
“There’s a house on the ranch for the foreman. In fact, most of the men who work here live on the ranch.” She crossed her legs and sat back in her chair. “I don’t know what Thane told you about me. I’m an artist and I own a gallery in Dallas where I show and sell my paintings. They’re also shown in three other galleries in Houston, Austin and Santa Fe, New Mexico. That takes a lot of my time and I know little about the ranch. We have an accountant and his assistant who help with the bills and payroll. There are two cowboys working here who also double, when needed, as chauffeurs. You’ll see the limo in the garage. There’s a landing strip and we have two planes and again, three of the cowboys are pilots. I saw on your résumé that you have a pilot’s license.”
“That’s correct.”
She nodded her approval. “We have a chef and also the wife of one of the men is a cook for the employees who live here. My cook, Francie Ellison, is here five days a week, off on the weekends unless there’s something special. She has an apartment on the third floor. Heather, the woman who is in charge of the cleaning crew also has an apartment on that floor, and Waldo, her husband, is in charge of the gardening crew. I don’t live alone in this house, Mr. Moretti.”
“Just call me Mike.”
Vivian Warner sat a little straighter and locked her fingers together. “I have a couple of problems. I think one will vanish the minute I introduce you. Since I’m isolated on the ranch and everyone in the area knows I’m a widow and alone, the issues are with two men in particular. I don’t think it will ever involve you and I’m not afraid of either one because I don’t feel threatened, just annoyed. Also, when Thane knew he would be away and I would be isolated, my father talked to him about a bodyguard and Thane agreed I should have one—even when other people live in the house. With my family background, I might be a tempting target. So I have a bodyguard—he and his wife live in this house, too. That way, he’s close at hand.”
“Henry is the bodyguard, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head as she gazed at him. “Thane told you there was a bodyguard?”
“No. Henry didn’t look like my idea of a man who spends every working hour as a butler.”
“You’re observant. Henry Paine and his wife, Millie, live in this house on the third floor. I feel Henry can do a better job as my bodyguard if he’s in the house.”
“I agree with that.”
She smiled. “His wife, Millie, is my assistant and helps with the business part of my art. As far as the problems I have, Thane knew nothing about them because he had enough to worry about where he was. I didn’t want him halfway around the world and worrying about me and two men I can cope with well enough. With you taking this job, I think the least of the two problems will vanish instantly because it didn’t exist when Thane was here. It concerns one of my employees.” She ran a hand over her blond hair, more of a nervous gesture, Mike thought, since not one strand was out of place. Then she continued. “Thane always said Leon Major could work with horses better than any other cowboy he had known. Thane let Leon deal with the problem horses that he wanted to keep, so I don’t want to let Leon go. I also haven’t ever told this to Slade. Slade isn’t well, plus he’s older, so I didn’t want to worry him. Besides, Leon isn’t threatening. He’s more of a nuisance. Since Thane’s death, he’s been by to see me a couple of times. At first, I thought it was about the ranch or business.”
“And it wasn’t at all,” Mike said, and she nodded.
“I told him not to come to the house. He can talk to Slade, our foreman. So far, Leon has cooperated and as I said, with your taking the job, I think that will be the end of that problem.”
“What’s the other problem?”
“That’s a bigger one, unfortunately. My neighbor, Clint Woodson, knows I’m widowed and knows I’m not a rancher. He’s divorced and he wants me to go out with him. I also know he wants this ranch.”
“Are you interested in selling?”
“At this point, no, I’m not. The time may come when I will be, but I don’t want to do something in haste and regret it later. Also, if I don’t sell to him and I won’t go out with him, I keep thinking he’ll stop coming by or calling me. Neither man, not Leon nor my neighbor, has stepped out of line to the extent that Henry would get involved with, so I haven’t had any help from Henry about this except to make his presence known. You see, Mr. Moretti, I haven’t gone out with any man since Thane, nor have I wanted to. There are other men who’ve called, but some are simply friends who are being nice and asking me out since I’m widowed and don’t get out much. Some are a nuisance, but I can deal with that. Actually, Clint started asking me out as soon as Thane enlisted. Since Thane’s death, Clint calls and drops by much more often. I don’t invite him inside and Henry always makes an appearance. Occasionally, he comes by when Henry has gone to town—it’s as if he knows when Henry leaves—but I don’t even go to the door. I’m not afraid of Clint. He’s just aggravating and I don’t care to talk to him. He brings me presents, which I tell him I can’t accept, so he leaves them on the porch. I give them to a charity in town and tell them to drop him a thank-you, but that hasn’t stopped him. Nor have I managed to convince him that I have no interest in going out with him or selling this ranch to him.”
Mike nodded. “When I’m in charge, we can keep him from setting foot on the ranch. We can stop him at the front gate and tell him you’re not receiving visitors. I can also go into town and get to know the sheriff so there won’t be any misunderstandings. You can think about that last one.”
“I don’t need to think about it. That would be excellent if it works. I’ve thought about changing the code but with the amount of people who live and work here, he can easily get it from one of them. And we usually have the gate open anyway.”
“We can hire someone to be a gatekeeper temporarily. Or perhaps we could get several hands who are willing to do extra duty.”
She nodded. “We’ll see if that works.” Then she added some further information about the neighboring suitor. “As soon as Thane had to deploy, Clint started being buddies with my dad. They have mutual friends, you see. My dad’s business is hotels, but he does have an oil company, so he and Clint know each other in the business world, too. It won’t matter. I just wanted you to know. I can take care of my dad.”
“It shouldn’t take long to get the message across,” Mike reassured her.
Her shoulders seemed to ease and a small smile pulled back her lips. “Thane wrote a very long, detailed glowing letter about how much he trusted you and how much I can trust you.”
Mike looked into her eyes and wondered how many times he would have to remind himself how much Thane had trusted him. “Thane was a buddy, a fine man, and I trusted him with my life. I’m sorry he didn’t make it home.”
She looked away and laced her fingers together in her lap. “I am, too. I miss him.” As she stared into space he waited silently. Finally, she turned to look at him again.
“How soon can you start work? I’ll tell you that we need you today, or as soon as you can start working here.”
“I can start tomorrow. Because of being in the military, I travel lightly, so I can move in right away.”
“That’s wonderful. You can have the guesthouse as long as Slade is still here. When he goes, we’ll have the foreman house done over however you’d like and you can move in there.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said. There was a moment of silence and she looked as if she were debating whether or not to say something so he sat quietly waiting.
“I want to ask you something. If you don’t want to do this, say no.”
“Sure. Ask away,” he said, curious of what she had in mind.
“After you’ve worked here a couple of weeks, could we go out to dinner maybe a few times where people would see us?” She took a deep breath. “You don’t have to agree, but I think if you went out with me where we would be seen, Clint and a couple of the other men who have called on me would back off. I think Clint would stop trying to get me to move and sell the ranch. We could go to a country club in Dallas—dinner will go on my tab, of course, because, in the first place, at the club that’s automatic.” Her cheeks turned pink as she talked. “You don’t have to go. It is definitely not a job requirement, and if there’s a woman in your life—”
“Relax, Mrs. Warner. I can easily take you to dinner,” he lied, trying to sound positive and knowing that she was right about the men backing off. “There’s no woman to worry about. You pick the time for dinner and you select the place because you know this neck of the woods better than I do,” he said.
They would go to dinner. If it had been anyone besides Thane’s wife, he probably would have politely refused, but he believed the reasons she was giving.
When she looked down at her fingers locked together, his gaze swept over her and his heartbeat sped up. Her long blond hair curled slightly where it fell on her shoulders. Mike knew she had no romantic interest in him, but with the jolt of mutual awareness when their hands had briefly touched, he suspected that any time spent with her he would be driven by two forces: the first—intense attraction; the second—the reminder that she was absolutely off-limits for him. She was Thane’s wife. How many times had he already had to remind himself of that? It was easy to get lost in those big eyes and forget the world and his purpose here.
“If it looks as if we’re dating, I think Clint will stop trying to buy this place. But it’s merely a request and if you say no, I’ll understand,” she repeated.
“As I said, I don’t mind taking you to dinner,” he lied again politely as he smiled at her.
She looked as if a weight had lifted off her shoulders while he felt as if one had just dropped on his.
“It will help, too, if you’ll call me Vivian.”
“I noticed Henry calls you Mrs. Warner.”
“He did that for your benefit and because you’re new. He and his wife both call me Vivian, and Thane told them to call him by his first name. Thane wasn’t much for formalities.”
“I think it should be Mrs. Warner until we have that dinner date. I’ll change to Vivian then.”
She nodded. “Thank you for agreeing to dinner. And remember, it will be the weekend after this one. I have tickets for a charity ball. It’s a dinner dance at a country club in Dallas. You’ll need a tux.”
“I can get one,” he said, smiling.
“Good. Clint belongs to the same club, so there’s a good chance he’ll be there.” She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “It’s uncanny, but he seems to know most places I go and he appears there, too.”
“You haven’t noticed anyone following you around when you’re off the ranch, have you? He could easily hire a PI.”
“No, but I haven’t really paid much attention.” She smiled at him. “Actually, I’m not off the ranch much because I’m busy painting. I have a showing coming up this month.”
“Well, I don’t want you to worry about Clint. I think I can get rid of him.”
“Thank you, Mike. That’s a relief. He’s even had real estate people call me about the ranch, as well as an attorney who represents him. It will be such a relief to have him out of my life.”
“I don’t think that will be difficult to accomplish,” Mike replied, already suspecting his biggest problem might be keeping his distance from her.
“I can introduce you to Slade now if you’d like. He’s expecting us. He’ll talk to you a little and show you around.”
“Thane said he has back trouble. Can he still work and get around?”
“Yes, thank goodness. He isn’t able to do what he used to, but he works. He does more than he should. Thane wrote to him and told him how you know ranching. He’s glad you’re here. We all are.” She started to rise from her chair. “I’ll call him and we’ll go to his office.”
“Mrs. Warner, wait a minute,” Mike said, wondering how the next few minutes would go. “In the last moments I was with your husband, he asked me to give something to you. He had a gift for you. He kept it with his things. Fighting like we were and on the move, we carried very little with us, but he carried your gift with him. It wasn’t gift wrapped. When I brought it home, I thought about having it wrapped. Perhaps it should be, but I thought about all we went through and decided maybe it would mean something special to you to give it to you the way he carried it through fights and tough assignments. I’ve brought it to you like I got it from him,” Mike said, standing. “It seemed more appropriate to me.”
“We weren’t even married a year,” she said, looking at Mike’s hands as he pulled the parcel from his jacket pocket. The package was wrapped in plain wrinkled brown paper that was smudged, slightly torn in a couple of spots. He held it out to her. She glanced up at him and then took it from him with icy fingers.
“Thane had this?”
“Yes, for you. I imagine he got it when we were in one of the European cities. I don’t know when or where. We never talked about it, really, except when he asked me to get it to you.”
She struggled with the string until he reached into his pocket. “Here, let me,” he said, opening a small knife and cutting the twine. Their fingers brushed and again, Mike had that instant sizzle when there should have been nothing. Without thinking, he glanced from the package to her and saw her surprised look again as she gazed up at him. The minute he met her eyes, she hurried to unwrap the wrinkled brown paper.
When she saw the gift, she gasped. A gold chain with a large diamond pendant glittered in the light. It looked like an antique. She closed her hand around the necklace and put her head down. To give her privacy, he walked a few feet away to a window to gaze outside without seeing anything before him. Instead, he remembered the flashes of shells and flames, the smell of blood and fire and gunpowder. He remembered Thane and hurt again over the loss of his friend.
“There’s a note,” she said. He didn’t turn to look. He could hear her open paper and then she was quiet. And he knew she was crying because she loved her husband. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. We all miss him, including Noah and Jake, our two other friends. Thane bought that pendant for you because he loved you. He was a good man and people cry over good men.”
Mike moved away, returning to his seat and looking at his phone, trying to give her a moment until she was ready to talk again.
“I always thought he would come home to me. I was sure he’d get through it,” she said so softly, he could barely hear her. “I was wrong.”
Mike stood. “I’ll get you a drink of water,” he said, leaving so she could be alone with her grief for a few minutes. He hadn’t been in the hall two seconds before Henry emerged from one of the rooms.
“Can I help you, Mr. Moretti?”
“It’s Mike, Henry. She told me you’re a bodyguard. You’re military, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Marines.”
“I’m giving her a moment. I told her I’d get her a drink of water. Thane had a gift for her and a note, and asked me to give it to her. It... Well, it tore her up.”
“I’ll get the water. Have a seat, Mike.”
Mike smiled and felt he would have a friend in Henry.
In minutes Henry returned with a tray that held two glasses and a pitcher of ice water. Cubes clinked in the pitcher as he approached Mike. “Here’s one for you, sir.”
“Henry, you don’t need to call me ‘sir.’”
“Yes, sir. Not too many people off the ranch realize I’m anything but a butler out here. It’s probably better that way. As you know, she’s worth a lot and this can be an isolated spot in spite of all the people who work here.”
“Okay. I’ll take the water to her. She should be okay now.”
Henry held the door open and closed it quietly behind Mike. Vivian was at the window and turned to face him.
He crossed the room and held the tray for her. “Have a drink.”
“Thanks. That caught me off guard,” she said, taking the glass nearest her. “I loved him and I miss him.”
