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Tex shrugged. “She’ll adapt. It won’t be the first time life’s tossed her a curve.”
“Being dumped on your doorstep as a kid was one thing. She had no choice. Now she does. She has a successful career in New York. Why should she come back here?”
Tex slammed his fist on the desk, proving he still had power enough to make his point. “Because, by God, she’s my flesh and blood. She’ll do what’s right, because that’s the way I raised her.”
“She doesn’t know anything at all about this?” Jake asked. “You’ve told her nothing?”
“Not a word. She hasn’t been home in months now and this isn’t something I wanted to get into on the phone. If the doc’s right, she’ll find out soon enough.”
“And I’m the one who gets to break the news.”
Tex grinned at Jake’s discomfort. “You’ll enjoy it, son. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been itching for a way to get under Meggie’s skin since the first time you laid eyes on her. Now’s your chance to do it. Better yet, you’ll have my blessing. That ought to satisfy you.”
It was evident that afternoon that the old coot had thoroughly enjoyed the bombshell he’d dropped and the fix he was putting Jake in. Now it was time for Jake to follow through.
But how the devil was he supposed to tell Meggie that her beloved grandfather had had a short-lived liaison with what could only be described as an unsuitable woman? Moreover, Jake was expected to explain that Tex had fathered a child who was now eight years old and had only recently come to live with him, abandoned on his doorstep just as carelessly and indifferently as Megan had once been.
Even worse than all that, though, he was going to have to break the news that Megan O’Rourke—hot-shot media executive—was now this child’s legal guardian and that she was expected to raise the girl on the very ranch she had fled a decade earlier, or she would lose her inheritance.
Even in death, Tex O’Rourke was destined to turn several lives upside down—Jake’s among them. Tex was probably laughing all the way to hell.
Megan had done everything but beg. Nothing she’d said, though, had dissuaded Mrs. Gomez from sending Jake Landers to pick her up at the airport.
“He will be there, niña. Look for him. You will recognize him, Sí?”
Recognize Jake? Oh, yes. She would be able to pick that low-down, conniving son of a gun out of a crowd of thousands. Her personal radar had been attuned to him practically from the second she’d hit puberty. It had taken several long and painful years for her to discover that her radar was not capable of exercising good judgment. When he’d stolen Tex’s cattle, she’d finally realized her mistake. Jake had been securely locked behind bars when she’d left for college. His name had never once been mentioned in all the years since.
So what on earth was he doing at the ranch now? she wondered. And why was he running errands for Mrs. Gomez? Had her grandfather hired him once he’d been released on parole, maybe given him an undeserved second chance? Tex wasn’t sentimental, so she doubted it. Jake had probably pulled some scam to get back in her grandfather’s good graces.
When the plane landed in Laramie, Megan was the first one off. It didn’t take more than a quick glance around the waiting area to spot Jake. He was propped against a railing, dressed in black from head to toe, the stereotypical western bad guy from his Stetson to his boots. Even his reflective sunglasses spelled trouble. At least they prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes. He’d always been able to make her weak kneed with a glance from those piercing blue eyes.
“I’m glad to see you’re on time,” Megan said briskly, handing him her baggage claim slips. “Four bags, all matching, Gucci.”
He grinned. “Of course, they would be.”
His amused tone, the wash of his deep baritone, raised goose bumps. The sarcasm irritated. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped, already breaking her vow to remain cool and impersonal for however long she had to put up with his company.
“Just an observation, Meggie. Don’t get your drawers in a knot.”
“My drawers are none of your concern.”
He waved the luggage claim slips under her nose.
“Apparently they are, unless you’re wearing the only ones you brought.” He tilted his head consideringly. “Or don’t you bother with them these days?”
“Your mind’s in the gutter as always, I see,” she said, casting an imperious look his way and sweeping past him. She all but raced for the baggage claim area. Ten seconds, maybe less—that was how long it had taken the man to not only rile her, but remind her that she’d once wanted him with a passion so powerful it had threatened to wreck her life.
There had been a time when she would have chosen Jake Landers over anything. She would have ditched her dreams, settled for an uncertain future, if only this man were a part of it. Nothing anyone said could persuade her that Jake was all wrong for her. Then the cattle had gone missing, Jake had gone to jail and, brokenhearted and disillusioned, Megan had left Wyoming.
There hadn’t been a single day since that she had looked back with regret. He’d betrayed her as well as her grandfather. It was something she wasn’t likely to forgive or forget.
She supposed a case could be made that she owed him. His crime had revealed her first significant error in judgment, forced her to reevaluate her priorities. She now had the career she’d been destined for, thanks to Jake’s betrayal. She socialized with men who were rich and powerful and, most important, honest. Thanks to lessons learned, she was slow and cautious before trusting anyone. People took advantage of her at their own peril, because she had a reputation for being ruthless with those who tried.
Megan stood by while Jake gathered her luggage, then followed him to the parking lot. Though it was only mid-October, the air had the sharp bite of winter in it. She shivered as it cut through her lightweight wool jacket.
“I hope you brought something heavier than that to wear,” Jake said, opening the door for her. “They’re predicting snow for later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ve been dressing myself for years now.”
“When was the last time you were in Wyoming when cold weather hit?”
“Not that long ago,” she responded evasively, aware that there was a guilty flush in her cheeks.
“Does Christmas four years ago ring any bells?”
The accuracy rankled. “What have you been doing, grilling Mrs. Gomez?”
“Didn’t have to. She likes to talk,” he said as he started the engine. He glanced her way. “You’re one of her favorite subjects.”
“I’ll have to speak to her about that. I’m not sure I like being a topic of discussion for her and one of the hands.”
Jake’s posture behind the wheel of the fancy sports utility vehicle had been surprisingly relaxed, but his shoulders tensed at her remark. He turned toward her and, for the first time, removed the glasses and seared her with eyes that sparked blue fire.
“Maybe we should get something straight right now, Meggie. I’m here as a favor to Mrs. Gomez and, in a way, to your grandfather. I don’t work at your grandfather’s ranch. In fact, if things turn out the way I hope they will, before too much longer I’ll own it.”
If he’d roped her and dragged her feetfirst through the mud, she wouldn’t have been any more stunned. “Never,” she said fiercely. The idea of turning the ranch over to a man who’d stolen from her grandfather was thoroughly repugnant.
Her vehement response, however, only seemed to amuse him. “You planning on sticking around to run it?”
The question threw her. She actually hadn’t considered what was to become of the ranch. From the moment she’d heard about Tex’s death, all she’d thought about was the huge, gaping hole in her life. Even at a distance, Tex O’Rourke had been very much with her. Never again would she hear the gruffly spoken, “I love you, girl,” with which he’d ended every conversation, no matter how contentious. The hated ranch hadn’t once entered her mind.
Of course, it would be hers now. She was Tex’s only living relative, unless Sarah were around somewhere. He would expect Megan to run his cattle empire, no doubt about it. It wouldn’t matter to him that she knew precious little about ranching, that she hated it or that her life was exactly the way she wanted it—in New York. Duty, a word that had been bandied about enough over the years, was what mattered to Tex.
Megan’s grief gave way to despair. She couldn’t do it. She could not stay here, and that was that. She didn’t have to think about it, didn’t need to examine the moral dilemma she faced from every angle. She would stay in Whispering Wind long enough to take care of Tex’s affairs and then she would go back to New York.
“Well, Meggie, what is it? You going to stay or go?”
“I’ll be going,” she said at once. “But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I sell the ranch to you. I’ll let the place fall to ruin before I let you have it.”
She didn’t even stop to consider his arrogance in assuming he could afford it. If the man had accumulated millions, it still wouldn’t be enough to buy Tex’s ranch, not with the price tag she would put on it to keep it out of his reach.
“We’ll see,” Jake said. “There’s time enough to decide.”
His quiet confidence that she would eventually change her mind rattled her. The old Jake would have raged at her insulting dismissal, forced her to dig in her heels. This Jake with his mild response was leaving her wiggling room, a way to extricate herself from a hasty decision without losing face. Why? she wondered. What was he up to now? Had her grandfather made an agreement with him that she knew nothing about?
She felt his gaze on her and forced herself to face him. “What?”
“I haven’t said it before now, Meggie, but I am sorry about Tex. I know you loved him. More than that, I know he loved you. You’ll need to hang on to that in the days to come.”
There was genuine sympathy in his voice. That alone would have startled her, but she was pretty sure she heard something else, as well. A warning, perhaps, that there were shocks to come? Or was it no more than his awareness that making burial arrangements, the funeral itself, dealing with death’s aftermath would be grueling? That had to be it, she assured herself. What else could he have meant?
Unwanted and unexpected tears stinging her eyes at Jake’s sympathy, Megan turned away and stared out the window as he put the car into gear and headed for home. The drive took over an hour, with barely a word spoken. He seemed content enough to leave her to her thoughts. More than once she wished he’d say something, anything, just so she could pick a fight with him. Silence left her too much time to grieve, too much time to think about walking into the ranch house for the first time without Tex there to greet her.
By the time they turned into the ranch’s long, winding drive, the sun had vanished behind a bank of heavy, gray clouds. Snow, thick and wet, splashed against the windshield. The air, when she finally stepped out of the car’s warmth, was raw.
Leaving the luggage to Jake, she ran toward the front door, only to skid to a halt on the porch when the door was opened by a child of eight or nine, her eyes puffy and red from crying, her hair a tangle of thick auburn curls.
“Who’re you?” she demanded, glaring up at Megan.
“I’m Megan O’Rourke,” Megan responded automatically, then realized that she was the one who ought to be asking questions. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tess. I live here,” she declared with a hint of defiance.
Megan stared at her, as shocked as if the girl had uttered an especially vile obscenity. “That can’t be,” she murmured, just as Jake bounded onto the porch and tucked a supporting hand under her elbow to guide her inside.
The child regarded him with only slightly less hostility. “We’re about to have dinner. You gonna stay again?”
Jake ignored the lack of warmth in the invitation and grinned. “Chicken and dumplings?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Gomez said they were her favorites,” she said, gesturing toward Megan. She gave Megan another defiant look. “I hate chicken and dumplings.”
That said, she stomped off in the direction of the kitchen. Megan watched her go, then sank down on the nearest chair. “Who is that child and what is she doing here?” she demanded, already dreading the answer. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that whatever his response was, she was going to hate it. That red hair all but shouted that the girl was an O’Rourke.
“Her name is Tess,” Jake began.
“She told me that much.”
“Tess O’Rourke.”
The confirmation sent a shudder washing over her. Her gaze shot to his. “Please, don’t tell me…” She couldn’t even say it.
“She’s your grandfather’s daughter,” he said. “Which technically makes her your aunt, but I think you can be forgiven if you decide not to call her Auntie Tess.”
Megan had hoped for a distant cousin, maybe. Even a sister. But an aunt? It was ludicrous. “I don’t believe this,” she murmured. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it.”
“But how?”
“The usual way, I imagine. All I know for sure is that Tex just found out about her himself a few months back. She was abandoned on his doorstep. He didn’t think he should mention it on the phone.”
“Yeah, I can see why he might not want to,” Megan said wryly.
Jake was studying her sympathetically. “You okay?”
“Just peachy.”
“Good, because it gets more interesting.”
Megan shook her head. “I don’t think I can handle anything more interesting.”
“You’ll adapt. Isn’t that what you do best?”
He said it in a way that sounded more accusatory than complimentary. She didn’t have time to analyze why before he continued.
“According to your grandfather’s will, you are officially Tess’s legal guardian.”
“No,” she whispered, stunned not only by the concept, but by the weight of the responsibility. She hadn’t planned on having kids, at least not without going through the usual preparations—marriage, pregnancy, nine months to get used to the idea. She hadn’t even had nine seconds.
She tried to imagine taking a kid back to New York with her, fitting her into a life already stretched to its limits. Her imagination, always vivid, failed miserably.
“There has to be another way. Mrs. Gomez…”
“She’ll help out, certainly,” Jake said. “She’s told me she intends to stay on here as long as you need her.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” Megan said gratefully, relieved to have the issue settled so expeditiously.
“Not quite,” Jake said. “You can’t just dump Tess with Mrs. Gomez and take off.”
“Why the hell can’t I?” she all but shouted as panic flooded through her.
“Because Tex has spelled everything out in his will. I’ll give you a copy later.”
His intimate familiarity with the details of Tex’s wishes stirred suspicion. “How do you know so much about Tex’s will?” she asked, gaze narrowed.
“Because I’m the one who drew it up. Believe me, it’s airtight.”
Megan wondered just how many more shocks her heart could take before she wound up in a grave right next to Tex. “You’re a lawyer?”
“A damned good one, if I do say so myself. You renege on the terms Tex has spelled out and the ranch is up for grabs.” His expression turned triumphant. “In other words, it’ll be all but mine, Meggie, and there won’t be a damned thing you can do to stop it.”
3
Jake wasn’t sure what had gotten into him in the car. Why had he declared his intention to get his hands on Tex’s ranch? He’d been toying with the idea in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t decided on it. Far from it. He was still painting the inside of the modest little house he’d bought in town, discovering that he liked fixing leaky faucets and patching cracks in the walls. What did he need with a ranch?
Sure, owning such a spread would represent respectability. Even the doubters in Whispering Wind would have to take him seriously if he became the area’s biggest rancher. Mrs. Perkins at the general store might stop trailing him around as if he were about to steal a loaf of bread. The explanation made sense, but he had a hunch his motives were a whole lot more complicated than that.
Like making Meggie crazy, for one thing. Maybe just to taunt her into sticking around for the sake of that little girl who was in desperate need of someone to love. Though Tess hadn’t exactly warmed to him, he had to admit he had a soft spot for her.
The child had come from a background not all that different from his own. Whether she knew it yet or not, Tess had lucked out when her mother had dumped her on Tex’s doorstep. For all of his gruff demeanor, Tex was a man a person could count on. Losing him so unexpectedly and so soon had been a bad break. Getting Meggie for a mother, well, it remained to be seen how that would turn out.
While Megan went upstairs to clean up for dinner—and probably to gather her very rattled composure—Jake wandered into the kitchen, where he’d felt at home the very first time he’d walked through the door years and years ago. Mrs. Gomez had always fit his image of the perfect mother, such a far cry from his own that he thought she’d been conjured up straight out of a fairy tale. She was blustery and affectionate by turns, and she always had some treat in the oven.
“Sit, sit,” Mrs. Gomez encouraged now, waving him toward the table.
The aroma of sugar and chocolate competed with that of the chicken stewing on the stove. Unable to resist, Jake snatched a still-warm cookie from the baking sheet, then sat as she’d asked.
“How come he gets to have a cookie before supper and I don’t?” Tess demanded.
