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“Cort tried to tutor me in biology in high school. I got a D on the test. He’s good at genetics, lousy at trying to explain them.” He shoved his hat back on his head and grinned. “So I thought, maybe I’ll come over and have a try at helping you understand it.”
“You’re a nice guy, John,” she said gently. And he was. At the height of his sister’s intimidation, John had been on Maddie’s side.
He shrugged. “I’m the flower of my family.” His face hardened. “Even if she is my sister, Odalie makes me ashamed sometimes. I haven’t forgotten the things she did to you.”
“We all make mistakes when we’re young,” she faltered, trying to be fair.
“You have a gentle nature,” he observed. “Like Cort’s mother. And mine,” he added with a smile. “Mom can’t bear to see anything hurt. She cried for days when your father’s lawyer came over and told her and Dad what Odalie had done to you.”
“I know. She called me. Your dad did, too. They’re good people.”
“Odalie might be a better person if she had a few disadvantages,” John said coldly. “As things stand, she’ll give in to Cort’s persuasion one day and marry him. He’ll be in hell for the rest of his life. The only person she’s ever really loved is herself.”
“That’s harsh, John,” she chided gently.
“It’s the truth, Maddie.” He swung his pointing finger at her nose. “You’re like my mother…she’d find one nice thing to say about the devil.” He smiled. “I’m in the mood to do some tutoring today. But I require payment. Your great-aunt makes a mean cup of coffee, and I’m partial to French vanilla.”
“That’s my favorite.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too.” He went back to the car, opened the passenger seat, took out a big box and a bag. “So since I drink a lot of it, I brought my own.”
She caught her breath. It was one of those European coffee machines that used pods. Maddie had always wanted one, but the price was prohibitive.
“Sad thing is it only brews one cup at a time, but we’ll compensate.” He grinned. “So lead the way to the kitchen and I’ll show you how to use it.”
Two cups of mouthwatering coffee later, they were sitting in Maddie’s father’s office, going over breeding charts. John found the blackboard her father had used to map out the genetics. He was able to explain it so simply that Maddie understood almost at once which herd sires to breed to which cows.
“You make it sound so simple!” she exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, John!”
He laughed. “It’s all a matter of simplification,” he drawled. He leaned back in the chair and sketched Maddie’s radiant face with narrowed pale blue eyes. “You sell yourself short. It’s not that you can’t understand. You just have to have things explained. Cort’s too impatient.”
She averted her eyes. Mention of Cort made her uneasy.
“Yes, he loses his temper,” John said thoughtfully. “But he’s not dangerous. Not like that boy.”
She paled. “I can’t talk about it.”
“You can, and you should,” he replied solemnly. “Your father was advised to get some counseling for you, but he didn’t believe in such things. That boy had a record for domestic assault, did you ever know? He beat his grandmother almost to death one day. She refused to press charges, or he would have gone to jail. His parents jumped in and got a fancy lawyer and convinced the authorities that he wasn’t dangerous. I believe they contributed to the reelection campaign of the man who was police chief at the time as well.”
“That’s a harsh accusation,” she said, shocked.
“It’s a harsh world, and politics is the dirtiest business in town. Corruption doesn’t stop at criminals, you know. Rich people have a way of subverting justice from time to time.”
“You’re rich, and you don’t do those types of things.”
“Yes, I am rich,” he replied honestly. “And I’m honest. I have my own business, but I didn’t get where I am by depending on my dad to support me.”
She searched his eyes curiously. “Is that a dig at Cort?”
“It is,” he replied quietly. “He stays at home, works on the ranch and does what King tells him to do. I told him some time ago that he’s hurting himself by doing no more than wait to inherit Skylance, but he just nods and walks off.”
“Somebody will have to take over the ranch when King is too old to manage it,” she pointed out reasonably. “There isn’t anybody else.”
John grimaced. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s the same with me. Can you really see Odalie running a ranch?” He burst out laughing. “God, she might chip a fingernail!”
She grinned from ear to ear.
“Anyway, I was a maverick. I wanted my own business. I have a farm-equipment business and I also specialize in marketing native grasses for pasture improvement.”
“You’re an entrepreneur,” she said with a chuckle.
“Something like that, I guess.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You know I don’t date much.”
“Yes. Sort of like me. I’m not modern enough for most men.”
“I’m not modern enough for most women,” he replied, and smiled. “Uh, there’s going to be a dressy party over at the Hancock place to introduce a new rancher in the area. I wondered if you might like to go with me?”
“A party?” she asked. She did have one good dress. She’d bought it for a special occasion a while ago, and she couldn’t really afford another one with the ranch having financial issues. But it was a nice dress. Her eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time. I went with Dad to a conference in Denver before he got sick.”
“I remember. You looked very nice.”
“Well, I’d be wearing the same dress I had on then,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “I don’t follow the current fashions for women,” he mused. “I’m inviting you, not the dress.”
“In that case,” she said with a pert smile, “I’d be delighted!”
Chapter Four (#ulink_917b4b86-5acc-5d8e-b4c3-8deda75fcc3f)
Some men dragged their feet around the room and called it dancing. John Everett could actually dance! He knew all the Latin dances and how to waltz, although he was uncomfortable with some of the newer ways to display on a dance floor. Fortunately the organizers of the party were older people and they liked older music.
Only a minute into an enthusiastic samba, John and Maddie found themselves in the middle of the dance floor with the other guests clapping as they marked the fast rhythm.
“We should take this show on the road.” John chuckled as they danced.
“I’m game. I’ll give up ranching and become a professional samba performer, if you’ll come, too,” she suggested.
“Maybe only part of the year,” he mused. “We can’t let our businesses go to pot.”
“Spoilsport.”
He grinned.
While the two were dancing, oblivious to the other guests, a tall, dark man in a suit walked in and found himself a flute of champagne. He tasted it, nodding to other guests. Everyone was gathered around the dance floor of the ballroom in the Victorian mansion. He wandered to the fringes and caught his breath. There, on the dance floor, was Maddie Lane.
She was wearing a dress, a sheath of black slinky material that dipped in front to display just a hint of the lovely curve of her breasts and display her long elegant neck and rounded arms. Her pale blond hair shone like gold in the light from the chandeliers. She was wearing makeup, just enough to enhance what seemed to be a rather pretty face, and the pretty calves of her legs were displayed to their best advantage from the arch of her spiked high-heel shoes. He’d rarely seen her dressed up. Not that he’d been interested in her or anything.
But there she was, decked out like a Christmas tree, dancing with his best friend. John didn’t date anybody. Until now.
Cort Brannt felt irritation rise in him like bile. He scowled at the display they were making of themselves. Had they no modesty at all? And people were clapping like idiots.
He glared at Maddie. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She backed away from Cort, but she was dancing with John as if she really liked him. Her face was radiant. She was smiling. Cort had rarely seen her smile at all. Of course, usually he was yelling at her or making hurtful remarks. Not much incentive for smiles.
He sipped champagne. Someone spoke to him. He just nodded. He was intent on the dancing couple, focused and furious.
Suddenly he noticed that the flute was empty. He turned and went back to the hors d’oeuvres table and had them refill it. But he didn’t go back to the dance floor. Instead he found a fellow cattleman to talk to about the drought and selling off cattle.
A few minutes later he was aware of two people helping themselves to punch and cake.
“Oh, hi, Cort,” John greeted him with a smile. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Hadn’t planned to,” Cort said in a cool tone. “My dad had an emergency on the ranch, so I’m filling in. One of the officers of the cattlemen’s association is here.” He indicated the man with a nod of his head. “Dad wanted me to ask him about any pending legislation that might help us through the drought. We’ve heard rumors, but nothing substantial.”
“My dad was wondering the same.” John frowned. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cort said, making sure that he enunciated as plainly as possible. He stood taller, although he still wasn’t as tall, or as big, as his friend. “Why do you ask?”
“Because that’s your second glass of champagne and you don’t drink,” John said flatly.
Cort held the flute up and looked at it. It was empty. “Where did that go?” he murmured.
“Just a guess, but maybe you drank it?” John replied.
Cort set the flute on the spotless white tablecloth and looked down at Maddie. “You’re keeping expensive company these days.”
She was shocked at the implication.
“Hold it right there,” John said, and his deep tone was menacing. “I invited her.”
“Got plans, have you?” Cort replied coldly.
“Why shouldn’t I?” came the droll reply. “Oh, by the way, Odalie says her Italian voice teacher is an idiot. He doesn’t know beans about how to sing, and he isn’t teaching her anything. So she thinks she may come home soon.”
Maddie felt her heart sink. Cort’s expression lightened. “You think she might?”
“It’s possible. You should lay off that stuff.”
Cort glanced at the flute. “I suppose so.”
“Hey, John, can I talk to you for a minute?” a man called to him. “I need a new combine!”
“I need a new sale,” John teased. He glanced at Maddie. “I won’t be a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. But she was clutching her small evening bag as if she was afraid that it might escape. She started looking around for someone, anyone, to talk to besides Cort Brannt.
While she was thinking about running, he slid his big hand into her small one and pulled her onto the dance floor. He didn’t even ask. He folded her into his arms and led her to the lazy, slow rhythm.
He smelled of spicy, rich cologne. He was much taller than she was, so her she couldn’t see his face. She felt his cheek against the big wave of blond hair at her temple and her body began to do odd things. She felt uneasy, nervous. She felt…safe, excited.
“Your hand is like ice,” he murmured as he danced with her around the room.
“They get cold all the time,” she lied.
He laughed deep in his throat. “Really.”
She wondered why he was doing this. Surely he should be pleased about Odalie’s imminent reappearance in his life. He hated Maddie. Why was he dancing with her?
“I’ve never raised my hand to a woman,” he said at her ear. “I never would, no matter how angry I was.”
She swallowed and stopped dancing. She didn’t want to talk about that.
He coaxed her eyes up. His were dark, narrow, intent. He was remembering what his father had told him, about the boy who tried to throw Maddie out a second-story window because of Odalie’s lies. He didn’t want to believe that Odalie had meant that to happen. Surely her female visitor had talked her into putting those nasty things about the boy and his family on the internet. But however it had happened, the thought of someone manhandling Maddie made him angry. It upset him.
He didn’t really understand why. He’d never thought of her in any romantic way. She was just Pierce Lane’s daughter. He’d known her since she was a child, watched her follow her dad around the ranch. She was always petting a calf or a dog, or carrying chickens around because she liked the sounds they made.
“Why are you watching me like that?” she faltered.
“You love animals, don’t you?” he asked, and there was an odd, soft glow about his dark eyes. “I remember you carrying Mom’s chickens around like cuddly toys when you’d come over to the ranch with your dad. You were very small then. I had to rescue you from one of the herding dogs. You tried to pet him, and he wasn’t a pet.”
“His name was Rowdy,” she recalled. “He was so pretty.”
“We never let anybody touch those dogs except the man who trains and uses them. They have to be focused. You didn’t know.” He smiled. “You were a cute little kid. Always asking questions, always curious about everything.”
She shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t dancing and they were drawing attention.
He looked around, cocked an eyebrow and moved her back around the room in his arms. “Sorry.”
She didn’t know what to think. She was tingling all over. She wanted him to hold her so close that she could feel every inch of his powerful frame against her. She wanted him to bend his head and kiss her so hard that her lips would sting. She wanted…something. Something more. She didn’t understand these new and unexpected longings. It was getting hard to breathe and her heartbeat was almost shaking her. She couldn’t bear it if he noticed.
He did notice. She was like melting ice in his arms. He felt her shiver when he drew her even closer, so that her soft, pert little breasts were hard against his chest through the thin suit jacket he was wearing. He liked the way she smelled, of wildflowers in the sun.
He drank in that scent. It made his head swim. His arm contracted. He was feeling sensations that he’d almost forgotten. Odalie didn’t like him close to her, so his longing for her had been stifled. But Maddie was soft and warm and receptive. Too receptive.
His mouth touched her ear. “You make me hungry,” he whispered roughly.
“Ex-excuse me?” she stammered.
“I want to lay you down on the carpet and kiss your breasts until my body stops hurting.”
She caught her breath and stopped dancing. She pushed back from him, her eyes blazing, her face red with embarrassment. She wanted to kick him in the shin, but that would cause more problems.
She turned away from him, almost shivering with the emotions he’d kindled in her, shocked at the things he’d said to her. She almost ran toward John, who was walking toward her, frowning.
“What is it?” he asked suddenly, putting his arm around her.
She hid her face against him.
He glared at Cort, who was approaching them with more conflicting emotions than he’d ever felt in his life.
