Expecting A Lone Star Heir

“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.”

“That’s understandable.” Mike turned away to set the tray on a table and sip his drink. He set the glass back on the tray.

“If you’re ready now, I’ll call Slade and see if he’s ready to meet you.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

While she talked on her phone, he glanced around. The desk at one side of the room looked French and a sofa covered in antique blue velvet faced the fireplace. One wall was almost floor-to-ceiling glass and overlooked a fenced yard with neat beds of red roses, a flowering crab apple tree and spirea and hyacinth in bloom. His gaze flicked back to Vivian. Her clothes didn’t reveal her figure or her legs, but one of the pictures Thane had carried was of both of them on a beach and Mike had total recall of her long legs and fabulous curves and a smile that could melt ice.

She turned to Mike. “Slade said he’s ready, so shall we go? It’s a short walk.”

“Sure,” he said, watching her cross the room and joining her, catching the faintest scent of an exotic perfume. He held the library door for her and then fell into step beside her as they walked down a wide hall that held potted palms and an elegant arrangement of chairs and loveseats. A splashing fountain was built into one of the walls and marble statuary and oils in gilt frames lined each side.

“Is this your art?”

She laughed, a melodic, cheerful sound that made him want to get her to laugh again. “Not all of it. Some of them. I specialize in Western art and portraits. One of the horse paintings is mine.” She pointed to the nearest painting. “The black horse.”

“Very nice,” he said. As he commented, he thought what a pity that Thane’s wife wasn’t older, less attractive, less appealing and less friendly because then she would definitely be less tempting.

Outside, they followed a stone path bordered by beds of blooming yellow jonquils and purple irises to a gate that he opened and held for her.

“Thank you,” she said as she walked through and he followed, closing the gate. “I really know so little about this ranch other than that we raise Hereford cattle. I do ride because we had a family farm that we went to occasionally and I had a horse, but that farm was nothing like this ranch and I didn’t spend much time with my horse. And I don’t here. I’m really not a ranch person. Also, I think the farm was more of a place for my father to relax.”

Mike saw barns, corrals and garages for the various cars, trucks and the one limo. In another direction there were houses and fenced yards. They approached a single-story building with lots of glass and wood.

“Here’s the foreman’s office. And here comes Slade,” she said as a door opened and a tall, slender man came out. He was in boots, jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt. In spite of the protection of his broad-brimmed Western hat, his skin was brown, wrinkled and weathered. His gray hair was long at the back of his neck.

“Slade, meet Mike Moretti, Thane’s ranger friend. Mike, this is Slade Jackson, our foreman.”

As Mike shook hands, he looked into gray eyes that stared intently at him. “I’ve heard about you from Thane, Mr. Jackson, and what a great job you’ve always done.”

“Call me Slade. Hate to step down, but the time has come. This is a family ranch and it’s been here through seven generations of Warners. It goes way back. I understand you’ve worked on a ranch.”

Vivian took a step forward. “Before you answer Slade, I’ll tell you two goodbye,” she said to the two men. “I enjoyed meeting you, Mike, and we’ll talk some more. You and Slade can come to some decisions.”

He gazed into her eyes and the thought crossed his mind that he could look at her for hours. Instantly, he thought about her from a few minutes earlier, crying over Thane, the man she once loved. And still loved. Mike knew he hadn’t imagined his reaction to touching her and he was equally certain that she had felt something, too. Why did they have the slightest chemistry between them when neither one wanted it? Was it really going to help for him to take her to dinner a couple of times to drive away a bothersome neighbor? Or would an evening together complicate both their lives?

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