Outlaw Marriage

He had studied business management from a ranching viewpoint. Business law had focused on land ownership and legal decisions involving ranches and cattle disputes, or the inheritance of those.

“Then you must admit we have a very strong case,” Hope said. “It would be in your family’s interests to settle it now.”

He couldn’t help the sardonic tinge in his voice. “Well, now, if it were up to me, I would, but with the sale of those two parcels—one of which was to the Laughing Horse Reservation—others are involved. Jackson Hawk says the res won’t give up the land. They’re too far along with plans for a resort on it.”

Her eyes turned frosty. “That land belongs to my father. The trustees had no right to sell it. Surely with the famous Kincaid influence and charm, your grandfather can persuade the tribal elders to give up their claim. I’m sure the Kincaids can afford to return their money.”

“With interest,” he agreed, his own tone hardening.

The waitress arrived with their food, forestalling the argument. Damn, but he was tired of this whole thing. They had been at a stalemate for months. What made his granddad think he could break through the impasse? Baxter’s daughter was as tough and stubborn as her old man.

Silence engulfed them when they were alone again. He began eating the meal, one of his favorites, without tasting it. When the door of the café opened, he watched the new arrivals with a jaundiced eye. He recognized the woman as a local florist and wedding planner. She carried her son in her arms.

The kid, who looked about two years old, glanced his way and shouted, “Ope. Ope.”

Collin felt decidedly uncomfortable, as if the boy had named him the absent and unknown father of the florist’s son. Heat suffused his ears.

The woman laughed and came toward him. Hell, what was going on?

“Hope,” she said to her son. “Hope.”

“Ope. Ope,” the boy said.

Hope laughed, startling him. It was a truly joyous sound, a welcoming sound rather than an amused gurgle. He was instantly fascinated. She held out her arms.

For a second Collin thought heaven had opened its gates and was inviting him inside. He was totally fascinated by the change in her. Whereas a moment ago she’d been all frosty professionalism, there was now tenderness and laughter in her eyes. But she wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed hard and watched the woman with the kid stop at the table.

“Here, he’s yours.” The mother dumped the child into Hope’s willing embrace. “Gabe can say ‘Ope,’ but can’t seem to get the H on the front of Hope,” she explained to Collin.

“Hey, big boy,” Hope murmured.

“Shug,” the child said in an insistent voice.

“You have some sugar for me?” she asked in make-believe surprise, her eyes going wide.

The kid nodded and grinned happily.

To Collin’s further amazement, the cool, serious attorney planted loud, smacking kisses on the toddler’s neck and ear until he giggled with delight. The kid caught chubby fists in her smooth hair and left it in tangles when she settled him on her lap.

Seeing his gaze on them, the blush hit her cheeks again. “This is Meg Reilly and her son, Gabe. Have you two met?” Hope asked, reverting to the polite persona he suddenly disliked.

“No, we haven’t. Glad to meet you,” he said.

“You’re Collin, right?” Meg asked. “It’s hard to keep all the Kincaid brothers straight. Oh, I’m sorry. That was extremely rude of me.”

With green eyes and wavy brown hair, she was a pretty woman a few years older than he. He liked her rueful smile and straightforward manner when she apologized.

“No problem,” he assured her. “I had trouble keeping the names straight myself when it was discovered I had six half brothers.”

Her frank gaze was discerning. “That must have been a startling revelation.”

“To put it mildly.”

“From all evidence, you’ve handled it well.” She turned to her son who was playing some kind of clapping game with Hope. “Okay, young man, I know you hate to leave the love of your young life, but Mommy needs to eat. It’s been a hectic morning with a bridal shower and two funerals,” she explained to the adults.

“Who’s dead?” Collin asked.

Sorrow rippled over her face. “A baby that was stillborn, and the son of a rancher who lives at the far northern reaches of the county. The son was from New York. He was in advertising and dropped dead of a heart attack in a meeting with a client. His father brought him back here to be buried in the family cemetery.”

“It must be terrible to lose a child,” Hope said, handing the boy to Meg. Her eyes were as soft as velvet.

“Yes,” Meg agreed after a beat of silence. “See you later. Don’t forget you’re coming to supper Thursday night.”

“I won’t.”

Watching Hope with her friend, Collin had an idea. He considered it from every angle, looking for flaws and planning an argument to win her to the plan, which, in his estimation, was a sound one.

When Meg and Gabe left them to sit at the counter, he ate the tasty hash and studied Hope for a moment before speaking what was on his mind.

“I think you should come out to the ranch and look the land over before presenting our offer to your father. That way you’ll know exactly what we’re talking about. I can show you the two parcels in dispute.”

He liked the way her eyes opened wide as surprise darted through them. He waited impatiently for her answer.

Two

“N o,” Hope said, sounding as horrified as she felt.

She had done some stupid things in her life, such as getting mixed up with a fortune hunter in law school, but becoming involved with Collin Kincaid wasn’t going to be added to the list. She knew all about his father and the women the man had seduced—there were six known bastard sons to verify that. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be seduced by the current Kincaid heir. Going to the ranch with Collin would be the first step on that slippery slope.

“It would be logical,” he insisted, leaning forward over the table, his expression serious.

“’Logical’?” she questioned. That was the last word she would have expected him to use.

“Sure. You can view the two parcels that were sold, then you’ll know exactly what you’re talking about when you approach your father with our offer. Or don’t you care to see the land you’re fighting so hard over?”

The sardonic undertone hit a nerve. She had, of course, been out to the old Baxter spread. From what she could see, it was mostly hills and sharp peaks, but in truth she had only gone a short distance. The original ranch road had been too overgrown with shrubs and pine seedlings to navigate and the old mining road had been too rough for her car. A four-wheel-drive vehicle was the only practical way to get around in this country if one intended to really explore it in detail.

“And when I’ve seen it?” she inquired.

“Then, as a fully informed attorney, you can truly advise your father as to its value and if it’s worth another year of wrangling over.”

His tone as much as his words challenged her legal expertise. She stiffened in resentment.

But her next thought was that she wanted to see the ranch, not so much because of the case but because it was part of her history. The Baxter roots in Montana went back as far as the Kincaid roots did. Somehow her family had lost its heritage.

Somehow? She knew the “how” of that loss. Jeremiah Kincaid and his lying, cheating ways.

“What time shall I pick you up on Friday?” Collin asked, smoothly diverting her thoughts from the past.

“Pick me up?” she asked, puzzled. Had she lost track of the conversation?

“The old Baxter spread is a substantial piece of land. We’ll need a couple of days to see it all. The weekend would be a good time for me. You can stay over at the ranch house. We have plenty of room.”

He leaned back in the chair, as if sure that she would fall in with his plan, which would put her right in the middle of the Kincaid compound and the multiple relatives who now lived there as if it were already theirs.

“What arrogance,” she said, keeping her voice soft, amused. “My father doesn’t jump to your bidding. Neither do I. This lawsuit isn’t going to be disposed of at the whim of the current Kincaid family. We’re willing to pay top dollar for the Baxter place, which rightfully belongs to my family. Will the court believe the trustees are acting in Jennifer McCallum’s best interest to sell for less?”

“If Jordan can pull that much money together. It seems to me he’s spread pretty thin, what with all the developing he’s doing south of town, plus, the fancy new headquarters building.”

Collin’s manner was coolly sardonic now, but edged with the Kincaid fury that was as well known as their legendary charm. She was angry, too. She didn’t appreciate his trying to manipulate her into doing as he wanted, nor his casting doubts on her father’s business acumen.

“My father has more than enough resources to handle the ranch sale, which has nothing to do with Baxter Development Corporation.”

Unable to finish the meal, she laid her fork down and stood. Collin, polite as usual, immediately got to his feet, tall and intimidating.

“You Kincaids stick together like flies on honey, but you won’t win this case,” she informed him heatedly.

“Don’t take that to the bank quite yet,” he advised with an amused glance at the gaping faces around them.

A couple of ranchers chuckled openly while several of the local residents grinned behind their hands. Hope was the outsider, and she was acutely aware of that fact.

“I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll see you in court,” she said, flashing him a breezy smile and answering the challenge in his eyes with a confident lift of her chin.

She walked out of the quaint café, aware of multiple stares as she did, and especially that of Collin Kincaid’s.

Collin remained at the table, his face impassive as he observed her departure.

Outside, she spotted another employee of the corporation and got a ride to her office. There, she closed her door and paced restlessly to and fro, aware of a trembling deep inside her. She felt she’d braved the lion in his den and had gotten out alive—but not unscathed.

Sighing, she calmed herself and admitted she’d blown the meeting, walking out in a huff that way. As if emotion ever solved anything. She was more angry with herself than with Collin. It was his job to persuade her to see things his way just as it was hers to see that things were settled in her father’s favor.

Oh, what tangled webs…

Sitting at the desk, she pressed her forehand against her hands and wished this whole thing was over. She was so tired of the Baxter ranch and her father’s obsession—

Biting back the rest of the disloyal thought, she rubbed her temples where a headache pinged insistently. She removed the folder from her briefcase and again studied the facts in minute detail. Yes, they definitely had a case.

She wondered if she could get the venue changed to Great Falls or Billings. She would have to show a higher court that the local judge could be prejudiced in favor of the Kincaids. If she lost, though, the case would go that much harder for her side.

Before she could think this through, the door opened. Only her father would dare intrude without an announcement. She looked up and met his eyes.

“Good afternoon, Father.”

“What’s this I hear about you having lunch with the Kincaid grandson?”

Her father refused to recognize any of the bastard grandsons, so for him there was only one—Collin, the legal heir to Garrett Kincaid’s holdings.

“I thought I told you I had a meeting with Collin today.” She knew she had. She was also pretty sure she knew who had mentioned the luncheon to her dad. Kurt Peters curried her father’s favor in every way he could.

“What did he say?”

She considered how much to tell him, not just the facts, but the nuances of the meeting. “They’re tired of wrangling over the land. They’ll ask the trustees to sell us the remainder of the Baxter land for the price they offered it to Garrett Kincaid.”

Her father’s face darkened dangerously. “They’ll sell all the Baxter land to me.”

“Jackson Hawk is representing the reservation. Collin said their plans are too far along to stop. I’ve spoken with Hawk prior to this. The tribal elders refuse to give up the land and will press their own suit if need be.”

“Have they started building?” he demanded.

“I don’t know. Legally, it doesn’t matter to our case. By buying land without a clear title, they aren’t entitled to any special consideration. However, their suit will complicate things for us.”

Her father sat on the corner of her desk, another perk only he was allowed. “Those blasted Indians. We need to check on what they’re doing. I have to fly to New York tomorrow on that bank merger since I’m on the board of directors. You’ll have to go out there.”

Surprised at this announcement, she said, “Collin invited me to spend the weekend at the Kincaid place. He thought I should look the Baxter land over. That sounds like a case of ‘Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,’ doesn’t it?” She smiled in ironic amusement.

Instead of seeing the humor in the idea of her being at the Kincaid compound, surrounded by their opponents and those loyal to them, her father slapped his hand on his thigh and chortled.

“Good,” he said. “Perfect. When do you go?”

Her jaw nearly sagged at his elation. “I turned him down. Why would I fall in with his plans?”

“Why? To see what’s going on. You can check on the reservation doings at the same time since the land adjoins the Kincaid place.” He gave her a derisive glare. “Where’s your head, girl? You might be able to come up with something we’ve overlooked or know nothing about. We need to know any weakness in their case or if they have any surprises up their sleeves.”

“We’ve already gone into disclosure,” she reminded him.

“I’m not talking about legal stuff,” he interrupted, silencing her in his usual impatient manner. “We need to look for chinks in the family armor. Or among the ranch hands. Not everyone out there thinks the Kincaids are God’s gift to Montana. Someone working on the ranch might have information we can use.”

She remained silent, every instinct within her advising that this was the wrong thing to do.

“Call the grandson and tell him you accept.”

She stood. Her manner cool and at odds with the way she felt inside, she said, “I’ll consider it.”

His eyebrows shot up. She’d never used that particular tone with him. She didn’t know why she felt so defensive.

For once he seemed at a loss for words. “Well, then, good.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go to a meeting on the new mall in five minutes. Blasted construction boss is a crook, if you ask me. I’ll see you Monday when I get back from New York. No, Tuesday here at the office.”

“All right.”

She remained standing behind her desk after he’d gone. She doubted he heard her agreement. It would never occur to him that she wouldn’t be there or that she might have other things to do. For the briefest second, resentment stormed through her, causing a lump to form in her throat.

The telephone rang, diverting her from the strange tempest of emotion. She cleared her throat and answered. For the rest of the afternoon, she was too busy to think. At six, she went to her apartment in one of the elite Baxter Development complexes. A common-interest development or C.I.D., as it was called in the industry, it was inhabited by professional couples or those wealthy enough to afford a second home.

The mountains around Whitehorn were scenic and the fact that the town was close to Yellowstone was an added attraction for those with children. The county was becoming increasingly popular with families from metropolitan areas.

Her father had seen the opportunities long ago. The fact that the local people hadn’t certainly wasn’t his fault. Pulling on her bathing suit, she wondered why she sometimes felt a twinge of guilt as the company bought up mismanaged ranches and turned them into thriving strip malls, condos, golf courses and nature trails for the aging baby boomers. The mismanagement wasn’t her father’s fault.

Swimming one hundred laps of the Olympic-size indoor pool, she dreaded the thought of calling Collin and accepting his offer. It felt like a concession on her part, which could be interpreted as a sign of weakness from their side. Neither did she like the idea of being a spy sent into the enemy camp by her father.

She sighed shakily. She felt she no longer knew the man she’d adored as a child. They were becoming more and more estranged. It bothered her.

From what she had seen of Collin and his grandfather, they were very close-knit. For a second, something like envy washed through her. She discarded the notion and put her efforts into propelling herself through the water that was almost as warm as a bathtub.

At the end of an hour, feeling neither refreshed nor any happier, she returned to her place. The silence seemed to mock her as she showered and dressed in silk pajamas, then ate a salad for dinner.

She wondered how many of the grandsons and their various families were at the Kincaid spread and imagined them crowded around a long table, laughing while Collin told them about the meeting.

Collin returned to the dining room and the lunch he’d left to answer a summons to the phone. “Will wonders never cease?” he said to his grandfather, the seventy-three-year-old patriarch of the Elk Springs branch of the Kincaids. “Yesterday Hope Baxter refused to accept an invitation to come out and look the ranch over. Today she calls and says she will.”

Garrett beamed. “I knew the Kincaid charm wouldn’t fail,” he said cheerfully.

Collin had his doubts about that. It wasn’t charm that had changed Hope’s mind about coming out for the weekend. Whatever it was, he figured he could find out before the weekend was over. He would make a point of it.

“What’s happening?” Trent, one of Larry Kincaid’s other illegitimate sons, wanted to know.

“Collin talked Baxter’s daughter into coming out to the ranch. She’ll be here for the weekend,” Garrett told him.

Trent glanced first at his wife Gina and then back at Collin with interest. “She’s the attorney on the case, isn’t she?”

Collin nodded and didn’t add anything more.

“It’s strange how the Kincaid family seems to be so totally enmeshed with the Baxters, isn’t it?” Trent continued. “Lexine, Emma’s birth mother, was married to Dugin Kincaid, Jeremiah’s younger son. Now Emma is married to Brandon, a Kincaid from the illegitimate branch of the family.”

“And has a twin, although Emma’s mother isn’t admitting to having another child,” Gina, the private investigator instrumental in locating Garrett’s grandsons, reminded them.

The DNA tests that had nearly convicted Emma in the death of the mayor’s daughter, Christina Montgomery, had proven she was one of a set of identical twins. Only the fact that Emma’d been inoculated against rubella and her mysterious twin hadn’t, had saved her.

Collin thought of Hope and her embarrassment at the mention of her relative, the notorious Lexine Baxter.

The unknown twin, who had apparently been with Christine Montgomery shortly before her death, wasn’t making herself accessible to the local authorities as requested through the news media. From what he’d seen of Brandon’s wife, Emma wasn’t anything like her mother. Was the twin?

Gina laughed ruefully. “So. Does this mean there’s going to be one more for dinner this weekend?”

“I’ll help with the cooking,” Trent volunteered.

Hattie, their previous housekeeper, had recently quit. The ranch had trouble keeping help because of the supposed curse on the Kincaid land. Gina had assumed most of the planning and served as executor of household chores. Everyone had been assigned a task that contributed to the running of the homestead.

There were moans all around and graphic reminders of charred hamburgers resembling charcoal briquettes at Trent’s last attempt at supper. He was unrepentant. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Only if you do it right,” Collin told him. “You have to keep an eye on the grill and squirt water on the flames before they incinerate the burgers.”

“Hey, I can do it,” Trent assured everyone.

“Uh-oh,” Gina said, “the impatient one awakes.” She hurried from the table to answer her son’s summons.

Collin’s grandfather chuckled. “I believe women could hear the cry of their own baby if they were at a ball game with fifty-thousand cheering fans and the child was in a nursery a mile away.” He turned his gaze on Collin. “It’s about time you were thinking of starting your family. You aren’t getting any younger.”

“I’m only thirty-one,” Collin protested good-naturedly. He’d been hearing about marriage and children from the old man since he could remember. “Besides, I’m too busy rushing back and forth between here and Elk Springs to think about finding a bride.”

Across the table, his half brother watched with the assured grin of one who had done his part and won their grandfather’s approbation by acquiring a wife and providing a son to carry on the Kincaid tradition in Whitehorn.

Assuming they ever got title to the ranch.

Collin frowned as he recalled his brief telephone conversation with Hope. He wanted to know what had happened to change her mind between their meeting yesterday, which hadn’t gone well in his opinion, and this morning.

She had been positively horrified at the idea when he had mentioned it yesterday at lunch at the Hip Hop Café. Today she’d admitted he was probably right—she needed to see the land to know exactly what parcels had been sold off the original Baxter holdings. She was a mystery, this woman who’d had the nerve to walk out on him in the busy diner one day, then call him the next, pretty as you please, to admit she’d possibly been wrong.

A thrum of anticipation vibrated through him. It had nothing to do with settling the case and everything to do with being alone with her as they explored the range.

Alarms went off in his head, but he knew he wasn’t going to heed them. Ruefully he wondered what had happened to his instinct for survival.

“So what’s the plan?” Trent wanted to know.

Collin shook his head. “No particular plan. I thought she should come out and explore the place while we try to hammer down the details of an offer that her father, we hope, can’t refuse.”

Trent’s face darkened. “Revenge. The man is obsessed with it. That’s the only reason for this whole lawsuit.”

“It’s hard to let go of a dream,” Garrett said sadly. “He was promised the place as a teenager. He poured his heart into it, then it was lost to him through no fault of his own. That’s a deep hurt.”

Collin studied his grandfather. The old man had a temper, which had exploded in the last meeting with Jordan Baxter and his sharp-minded daughter, but he also understood the underlying emotion of his enemy. Collin hoped when he was his grandfather’s age he had half the understanding of human nature that Garrett had. And the compassion.

Collin had at first been resentful of the brood of bastard brothers, but that was before he’d realized he’d had life a lot easier than any of them. He’d known his roots. And he’d had Garrett’s unwavering love to help him on the right path. That had been the greatest influence in his life.

Realizing his advantages and that the Elk Springs ranch would still be his—and his sister’s, of course—he’d pitched in to help the new brothers gain their own part of the Kincaid inheritance. He’d even learned to like them for the most part, especially Trent, who was becoming a close friend.

Both Trent and Gina liked staying at the ranch and did so often. Cade and Leanne had built a fine house in a wooded meadow nearby. Brandon and Emma were thinking of doing the same. Emma and Hope, newly discovered cousins, could get to know each other…