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Terms Of A Texas Marriage
“Thomas,” he said as they reached the car, “drop me off at the local car-rental agency, then drive back into Dallas, to Dallas-Fort Worth International, and go on to Boston. Meet with Rolston in the morning and finalize the plans for construction of his new hotel. You know what we need. Get the contracts signed, and I’ll see you back in New York in a couple of days.”
“You’re staying here?” Thomas’s brows rose in surprise. “You really think that’s necessary?”
“Yeah. I have a feeling Ms. Hardin is not going to give in this easily.”
“Well, keep me posted.” Thomas opened the car door and tossed his suit coat inside. “Alec, don’t start feeling bad about this woman’s situation. You’ve offered her a lot of money that you didn’t have to and you’ve given her virtually all the time she needs to relocate. Hell, it’s your land.”
“Yeah, I hear you.” Alec nodded his head. “We’re on the same page. I should be here only a couple of days. I’ll call tonight and check on Scotty. Mom had the zoo scheduled for today. I have a feeling by now she should be about ready to go home.”
“Your mother is keeping your son?”
Alec nodded. “Ms. Bishop quit. And after just two weeks, her replacement was already looking a bit frazzled.” Alec shrugged. “Mother offered to come and stay with him. I flew her in from St. Petersburg just before we left to come here.”
Thomas chuckled. “That boy is four going on twenty-four.”
Alec smiled. “Don’t I know it.”
After arranging for a car, Alec eased the large sedan into the lane of traffic heading north. He should be on his way to Boston or back to New York. Instead, he was stuck in a rural north Texas town full of coyotes and cowboys, boots and brawls, dirt roads and bumper stickers proclaiming the South would rise again. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t want to be here. But he had to protect his right to this land. If it hadn’t been mentioned in the reading of his grandfather’s will, he wouldn’t have known of its existence. Now that he knew, he wasn’t about to let it slip through his hands.
The logical thing to do was to bring in a couple of his staff to keep an eye on things. But before the idea could begin to formulate, Shea Hardin’s face drifted into his mind, and he squelched the plan before it had a chance to develop.
* * *
“Thanks for coming over, Leona.” Shea pushed the screen door farther open, welcoming her neighbor onto the wide enclosed porch at the rear of the house. “I really do need your help.”
Three days had passed since the meeting in Ben’s office and Shea still hadn’t come up with a solid plan to save the ranch.
“Are you all right?” Leona squinted and gave Shea a cursory inspection. “You sounded terrible on the phone. Kinda scared me. I was afraid you’d gotten kicked by that damn stallion again.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at the older woman. “At least physically. Come on in and I’ll fix us both a glass of tea.”
Leona Finch was the closest thing to a mother figure Shea had since her own mom died when she was five. Shea loved Leona dearly. In her midsixties, the sun-browned features of her face bore the wrinkles of a lifetime spent on a working ranch. Her speech was as rough as her skin. But she was sensitive, perceptive and in spite of her limited education, profoundly wise.
“So, if you’re not hurt, what’s the deal?” Leona walked into the kitchen, pulled out a chair and sat down at the table as Shea filled two glasses with ice.
She poured the freshly brewed tea and added a sprig of mint. Setting the glasses on the table, she took a seat across from Leona.
“I’ve...I’ve got a problem,” she began. “A big one.”
“Well, hell.” Leona took a sip of the tea and sat back in the chair. “There ain’t a problem that can’t be fixed. You tell me what’s got you so upset, and then we’ll figure out how to put it right.”
Shea gave her friend a strained smile. She was glad to have Leona on her side. She needed to hear a few of her unceasingly positive assurances that things would work out.
“I’m not sure exactly where to begin. Three days ago I was called to a meeting in Ben’s office. It’s so bizarre...” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. Shea looked into her friend’s face.
“It seems I’ve got to find a husband,” she told Leona straight out. “And I have less than two days left to do it.”
Two
“You’ve got to do what?” Leona leaned forward and Shea saw her eyes narrow as she searched for any sign of a joke.
Shea took a steadying sip of tea. “If I don’t get married by the last day of this month, I’ll lose the ranch.”
“Says who?” Leona’s tone was guarded.
Shea recounted the highlights of the meeting in Ben Rucker’s office three days earlier. She still had a hard time believing it herself.
“I have no intention of just walking away from everything I love and everything Dad worked so hard to accomplish.” Her finger made circles in the condensation forming on the frosted glass. “I’ve spent the last three days on the phone trying to track down some of my friends from college. The ones I did manage to locate are married or involved with someone. Between the years I was away at school and then Dad’s illness, I’ve lost touch with most of the people I knew in high school.”
There had been two loves in her life. The first had been a high school crush who was now married with two kids. She’d met the other, David Rollins, her second year in college. For a while, they had been inseparable and even had talked about marriage. But eventually they both had realized they wanted different things in life. David’s plans hadn’t included living on a ranch in north Texas. Shea hadn’t been able to see herself living anywhere else. She’d tried desperately to reach David, but without any luck. A few of her friends had heard he was living back East, but no one knew exactly where. Some had offered to make calls to try to reach him, but so far he hadn’t called.
She pulled a legal pad from under some Western Horsemen magazines that lay on the table. “I’ve made a list of a few possibilities, but—” she shook her head in frustration as she passed the pad to Leona “—it’s been a long time.”
Leona took the list and set it aside, her eyes locked on Shea’s face. “You’re not seriously thinking about asking some man to marry you.” It was more a statement than a question.
She shrugged. “What else can I do?”
“Do you have even the slightest idea what you’d be letting yourself in for?”
“It will be a business agreement, strictly platonic.”
“Yeah, sure it will,” Leona muttered, rubbing her hand over her face. “God Almighty. This is the damnedest situation I’ve ever heard of.”
Leona picked up the list, gave her a weary look and began to scan the names. “Tommy Hall. Are his parents John and Grace?”
“Yeah.” Shea nodded.
“He got married two weeks ago. One of our hands was his best man.” Leona picked up a pen and crossed off his name.
“Duncan Adams. Drinks,” she recalled. “A lot. You don’t need that grief. Cecil Taylor? I hear he loses more than he makes on the horses over in Bossier City. Unless you’re willing to bankroll his gambling, you can scratch him off the list.”
One by one, Leona crossed off each man until, of the fourteen names, only one remained.
“What about Tim Schultz?” Shea asked, trying not to sound desperate.
Leona looked at the last name on the list. “Maybe. Isn’t his father the preacher over at that little church east of town?” She frowned in contemplation. “I’ve never heard nothing bad about him. Kinda quiet. ’Bout your age, right?”
“Yeah,” Shea confirmed. “His family only moved to this area a few years ago, but I had some classes with him in college. He’s nice enough, I guess.”
“So, how do you plan to approach him with this little plan of yours?” Leona laid the pen and pad on the table. “You gonna just walk up to him and say, ‘Howdy. Will you marry me for a year? Oh, and by the way, it’s strictly business.’ I’d sure like to be a fly on the wall when you throw that little tidbit in his direction.”
“I’ll explain the circumstances, of course.” She hadn’t rationalized this part of the plan, but obviously it would be necessary. “I’ll have to.”
“Girl, use your head. Maybe if you talked to that Morreston fellow again—”
“No.” Sitting back in her chair, Shea crossed her arms in front of her. Alec Morreston. The mere mention of his name caused a hot blush to spread over her neck and face. The look of male want in his eyes was still vivid in her mind. She’d never experienced anything like it, but even after three days, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. And neither had she imagined his cold insensitivity to the havoc he’d caused in her life. She resolutely shook her head. “I can promise you, it would do no good. He’s a developer. He lives in New York, probably in some posh penthouse. He doesn’t care about the land. He doesn’t care about anything but making more money. Probably never got his hands dirty in his life.”
“What if you turned the tables on him?” Leona asked, taking another long drink of her tea.
Shea frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, Ben told you, according to that contract, if you weren’t married by the end of the month, Morreston had to marry you or agree to renew the lease. Right?”
Shea nodded, suddenly afraid of where this was going.
“So tell him you want to marry him.”
Shea could only gape in horror.
“Put the problem back on his plate,” Leona reasoned. “Think about it. He’s a city fellow. He’s not going to agree to marry you and live on this ranch. He thinks he’s got you bluffed into doing just exactly what you’re doing—refusing to use him as a way out.”
Shea stubbornly shook her head. “No way, Leona.” The idea was beyond bizarre. “Absolutely no way.” She still had forty-eight hours.
“I sure wish your father was still alive,” Leona muttered.
“So do I, Leona,” Shea whispered as she stood and walked to the phone to call Tim Schultz. “So do I.”
* * *
Shea sipped from the glass of ice water and tried to remain calm. Tonight, before midnight, she had to be married. Tim had finally returned her call this morning. No doubt sensing the urgency in her tone, he’d agreed to meet her at Barstall’s City Diner at one o’clock. He was late.
What was she going to say? All the rehearsing in the world couldn’t prepare her for what she had to discuss with him. How would he respond? Would he laugh? Would he just walk out? Or, most important, would he agree to do it?
Before leaving yesterday, Leona once more had encouraged her to call Morreston’s bluff. But Shea had held firm in her conviction that nothing on earth would make her so desperate to even contemplate such a thing. Heaven help the poor female coerced into marriage with that man.
Instinctively she knew Alec Morreston would be demanding, in bed as well as out. Even if the situation were different, a brief affair with a man like Morreston would take more from her than she could give. She suspected such a liaison would turn into an emotional roller coaster, and that was the last thing she needed in her life.
But it was a moot point. Morreston was long gone. It had taken him fewer than two hours to invade her world and turn it completely upside down. Then he had left, not even bothering to look back as she desperately tried to pick up the pieces from the devastation he’d caused. No doubt, he assumed she would just relinquish her home and quietly disappear. Well, he was in for a surprise—
“Hello, Ms. Hardin.” Shea jumped at the sound of the deep voice directly to her left. Her head snapped around and her eyes immediately grew wide in astonishment. She could feel the blood drain from her face as she stared into the amber eyes of Alec Morreston.
“May I join you?”
Before she could respond, he pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. As his eyes scanned her face, his lips twitched with unrepressed humor at her stunned look. For a long moment, she couldn’t speak.
“What...what are you doing here?” she stammered, finally finding her voice.
“I’m about to have lunch,” he said innocently, as though misunderstanding the true meaning of her question.
Shea glared at him.
Alec shrugged. “I decided to take a few days and see some of the area. Thought it might be...beneficial...to the future development of the project.” He responded as if choosing his words carefully. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Have I...? No.” She shook her head. “No. I’m meeting someone.” She looked toward the front entrance, no longer sure she’d be glad to see Tim walk through it.
Alec regarded her silently for a moment. “I see. Well, then I’ll certainly move to another table as soon as she—or he?—arrives.”
If Shea had been nervous before Morreston’s unexpected arrival, that feeling was mild compared to what she was experiencing now. Suddenly, she could relate to every mouse ever caught in a trap that had looked up to find the cat walking in its direction. How on earth was she ever going to present her problem to Tim with Morreston hanging over her shoulder?
“The roasted chicken sounds good,” he commented, scanning the lunch specials. “What do you recommend?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that.”
He glanced at her face over the top of the menu and feigned surprise. But the deepening of the tiny lines around his eyes told her he found her remark amusing.
Before she could deliberate on this newest chapter of the nightmare, another voice beckoned her.
“Um...excuse me. Shea?” Tim Schultz smiled his apology. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Tim!” She smiled nervously. “That’s okay.”
She looked back to Morreston, hoping against hope he would just silently disappear. Apparently, that was not going to be the case. Politeness demanded she make introductions.
“Tim, this is Alec Morreston...Tim Schultz.”
Alec stood as the two men shook hands. Over six feet in height, he easily towered over the younger man by several inches while his broad shoulders and lean waist hinted at a muscular, athletic build that made Tim appear almost adolescent in comparison. His reddish-blond hair and fair complexion seemed pale, almost sickly, as opposed to Morreston’s dark features.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Alec said, a grin tugging at the corners of his well-defined mouth, “I’m sure you two have a great deal to discuss. I certainly don’t want to interrupt.”
“Would you care to join us?” Tim asked, unaware of the situation.
“No!” Shea almost shrieked. Both men looked at her—one with curiosity, the other with increasing amusement.
“Thanks, Tim,” Alec said, and Shea’s heart all but stopped. “But I think Shea wants to speak privately with you. Maybe another time?”
He knows. He knows exactly why I’m having lunch with Tim Schultz. And apparently, he found the situation extremely amusing. That infamous smirk was firmly in place.
“You knew I was here, didn’t you?” It was no coincidence Alec Morreston just happened to show up at the exact time she was meeting with Tim, even if it was the lunch hour and this was the only decent restaurant in town. When he didn’t immediately respond, she added, “How?”
“I believe his name is Hank. Your ranch foreman? He said you might be having lunch here today.”
Alec moved away from their table, giving her a quick wink as if to seal the private joke between them. She immediately turned away, biting back the angry retort that sprang to her lips. Ignore him, she told herself. Just be thankful to be rid of him.
But before she could enjoy a second of relief, to her utter dismay, Morreston pulled out a chair at a table next to them. In that location he’d be able to hear every word they said. Something akin to panic formed in her stomach.
“So,” Tim began as he took the seat Alec had occupied. “How are you, Shea? Haven’t seen you in what—three years? I was surprised to get your call. What’s going on?”
She forced a smile and reached for the glass of ice water, needing something to steady her nerves. Her hand shook slightly, and a small amount of water spilled onto the table. As she fought to find the right words, her gaze wavered, and she found herself looking directly into the mocking face of Alec Morreston.
“Shea?”
She heard Tim’s voice, but her gaze was captured by amber eyes.
“Shea? Is something wrong?”
* * *
She couldn’t suppress the overwhelming desire to slam something as she stomped out of the restaurant. She was furious. No, she mentally corrected herself. She was beyond furious. She wanted to kill something. She wanted to kill Alec Morreston.
Each time she’d broached the subject of her meeting with Tim, Morreston had cleared his throat or apologetically interrupted to ask Tim a question or made some asinine comment. Between his little interruptions, he’d sat back in his chair and stared, never taking his eyes off her, exactly as he’d done that first day in Ben’s office. That knowing smirk had remained etched on his lips, his tawny eyes alert to every movement she’d made, every breath she’d taken. For almost an hour, he’d made her feel like a bug under a microscope.
About the time she’d started to ask Tim if he would walk her to the truck, Morreston had folded his napkin, placed it on the table and leaned toward her lunch date to strike up a conversation. If they’d tried to leave, she’d known Morreston would have followed. Pleading a headache, she’d excused herself and asked Tim if she could call him later.
Now apprehension increased with each step as she made her way to her vehicle. Her time was almost up. It was down to a few short hours before she would lose the home she loved forever. She’d almost been tempted to stand in the center of the restaurant, loudly declare her problem and ask if there were any takers. If she didn’t come up with a plan very soon, it just might come to that.
As she drove toward the parking lot exit, the front doors of the restaurant swung open and out walked Morreston—with Tim at his side. Seemingly engaged in light banter, only Morreston noticed her as she passed. He tipped his head to her in silent acknowledgment. She clutched the steering wheel in a death grip. Her hands itched to slap that arrogant smirk from his face once and for all. In the rearview mirror, she saw him turn to Tim, nod and laugh.
In that moment, she knew she never would have a second chance to speak with Tim. Morreston would see to it. That was why he was here. He knew what she was attempting to do, and he was determined to see her fail. The devil had just sprouted horns.
In the same instant, she also knew she’d reached the limit of her patience with the man and this bizarre situation. She slammed on the brakes and, without pausing to give her actions a second consideration, threw the truck into Reverse. It quickly roared backward before grinding to a halt directly in front of the two men. Their conversation immediately stopped and they both peered at her with curiosity.
She rolled down the window, a phony smile pasted to her lips. Alec watched her with guarded interest.
“Sorry to interrupt you gentlemen. But, Alec—?” She used his given name, implying a familiarity that was not there and never would be if she had anything to say about it. She gave him a look of pure innocence.
“You know, I’ve had a chance to think about our meeting earlier in the week. About the little problem we discussed?”
She had his attention.
“And, well, I think your attorney was right when he pointed out your family’s unwavering concern that a single, unmarried woman can’t possibly run a ranch...all by herself.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice. Her tone was venomous.
Tim looked from one of them to the other, as if struggling to understand any part of their conversation.
“Since Mr. Long was so kind as to explain my alternatives and well...since you’ve gone to all the trouble to stay here in case I needed you, and in light of all the care and understanding you’ve shown, I think you’re absolutely right.” She looked directly into the golden depths of his eyes, an effort that challenged her sanity. “I will marry you, Alec. Under the circumstances, how can I possibly refuse?”
Only Alec comprehended the true meaning of her words. His head drew back, his eyes narrowed and her phony smile almost became genuine as she saw the flare of annoyance in those chiseled features.
“If you’ll meet me at Ben Rucker’s office in, oh, about an hour? I’m sure he can help us sort out any little details we need to address prior to the ceremony.”
Before she switched her attention to Tim, she noted with satisfaction that the smirk was finally, effectively wiped from Morreston’s face.
“Tim, I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to discuss this with you inside,” she apologized. “But my reason for asking you here was to solicit your help in convincing your father to perform the ceremony on such short notice. Would you mind speaking to him for me?” She surprised herself at how quickly and convincingly the lie rolled off her tongue.
“No,” Tim shrugged. If he believed this conversation to be as bizarre as it sounded, he managed to hide it well. “I’ll see him this afternoon. When is the wedding? And where?”
“This evening. At my house.” Her eyes returned to Alec’s face and she noted, with immense gratification, he clearly showed signs of irritation. His jaw worked convulsively as he made a futile attempt to remain calm.
“Will eight o’clock be all right?” she asked.
For a long moment, Alec didn’t answer. His eyes searched her face as if attempting to discern what she was up to, as though he couldn’t believe what she had just said.
“Eight will be fine,” he said finally.
If he’d refused, she’d have been surprised. She knew instinctively that Morreston was not the type of person to back down after the first stone was cast.
She put the truck in Drive and smiled at Alec. His amber eyes narrowed in a silent declaration of war. While she suspected her triumph would be short lived, it would certainly feel good while it lasted.
* * *
“I can’t let you do this,” Ben Rucker stated for the third time. “Suppose the man doesn’t refuse to marry you? What then?”
“Then we’ll get married,” she said firmly. “At eight this evening. Don’t worry, Ben, you’re invited.”
“This is not a joke!” Ben pulled the glasses off his face and stood up from the desk. “For God’s sake, don’t do this, Shea. Take the money he’s offered and buy land elsewhere. I’ll help you. You can—”
“No, Ben. This is my home, my family home, for six generations. I can’t just pack up two hundred years of memories and close that door behind me saying, ‘Oh well.’ If Morreston wants this land, my land, he’ll have to fight for it.”
Ben’s eyes, full of concern, silently beseeched her to reconsider. “Is there no way I can talk you out of this?”
“Not unless Alec Morreston will renew my lease.”
“Which he is not willing to do.” The deep voice responded from the open doorway just behind her. Both Shea and Ben looked around in time to see the subject of their conversation walk casually into the room.
He had shed the sports jacket and tie, leaving his shirt open at the neck but still tucked into the navy slacks. They hugged his slim waist, hinting at muscular thighs beneath the fabric. Somehow, his shoulders seemed broader than they had only an hour ago. The strong line of his jaw was set in determination.
“Don’t do this, Morreston,” Ben pleaded.
“It’s not completely my doing,” he answered. His eyes focused on Shea. “Ms. Hardin had a choice, and apparently she decided on this option.”
“You gave her no choice at all and you know it,” Ben argued. “What kind of man are you to take advantage of her like this?”
Alec pointedly ignored the question. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Hardin in private.” His eyes never left her face.
“You can discuss anything that needs saying in front of—”