The Millionaire's Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin

He paused. “I’d prefer to stay in the main house if that’s not a problem.”

The only empty bedroom in the main house was right next to hers. The thought of this man sleeping within shouting distance gave her an unexpected little shiver of excitement. She wondered what he looked like when he slept. Did he lie on his stomach, his back? Did he wear pajamas or did he sleep in his birthday suit?

Maybe one day she’d be lucky enough to find out.

Or maybe she’d be better off not letting her imagination run off with her again. Her daddy always accused her of being too curious, too brazen, for her own good.

“You can stay wherever you’d like,” she told Connor. “We’ve got plenty of room. I’m just grateful you’re here to keep an eye on things. The staff have been instructed to assist you in any way possible.”

“I appreciate that,” he said—so somber, so serious and businesslike. He really was different from his brother.

“Well, okay, let’s get you settled in.” She reached for the door handle, but in a flash he’d grabbed it and opened the door for her.

Well, damn. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone but her daddy had opened a door for her. To the farm hands, she was just one of the men, and was treated accordingly. That was the way she liked it. She had no delusions about the kind of woman she’d become. She wasn’t pretty or worldly like her sister Rose, and she certainly wasn’t what you would call feminine. She could drink any of the farm hands under the bar and was known to cuss a blue streak when the circumstances demanded it. She couldn’t cook, and had no inclination to learn, and would rather muck a stall than clean a toilet. Not a dream wife by any stretch of the imagination.

Not any kind of wife at all.

Not that she didn’t appreciate a good-looking man in a pair of tight jeans, she thought, taking a not-so-subtle peek at Connor’s rear end as she eased past him into the house.

As Connor stepped in behind her, he gazed around the interior, at the cream-colored walls and French doors that opened to the office, up the wide staircase that led to the bedrooms. “Not your typical farmhouse.”

“Nope. My momma was a city girl and my daddy knew she wasn’t happy living in the old farmhouse, so he built her this one. I was just a baby when we moved in. Two years later cancer took her.”

Most people would mumble some sort of apology, or words of regret. Connor only nodded.

Not the talkative type, was he?

“Kitchen’s that way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Meals are at 6:00 a.m., noon and 6:00 p.m. sharp. Jane’s room is behind the kitchen. Through those doors over there is the office. The family room and Daddy’s suite are at the back of the house.”

“How is your father?” Connor asked.

“His surgery went well. He’ll be home in a day or two, but he’s going to be off his feet for at least a couple of weeks. It could have been a lot worse. If he hadn’t had Jimmy, our stable manager, with him, who knows how long he would have laid there.” She’d seen men hurt before, but when they cut away her daddy’s bloody pant leg and she saw the bone jutting through the skin, she’d felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.

She’d never seen him looking so pale and weak and broken down. It disturbed her more than she would ever let on. He was her protector. Her hero. Larger than life and invincible. Even though she was a grown woman now, she wasn’t ready to let go of that fantasy. Instead it had been snatched away. Stolen from her by the Devlins.

She turned to Connor. “We need to find out who did this.”

There was fire in Nita’s eyes, a volatile, vivid anger—one Connor recognized all too well—and he suddenly felt sorry for any man who dared cross her. But through the anger, he could see a flicker of something else, something that might have been fear or hurt. It was gone so quickly, he couldn’t pin down the exact emotion.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he assured her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

She gave him a brusque nod. “I’ll show you to your room.”

He hooked his bag over his shoulder and followed her up the stairs. Her boots echoed against the bare wood steps and her backside swayed temptingly in front of him. She may not have the overly accentuated curves and feminine sweetness some men liked, but something about her stirred a yearning in Connor, a deep longing he hadn’t felt for a very long time. A recklessness that tempted him to throw common sense aside and act on his feelings.

As he always did in these cases, he shoved those feelings deep down and kept them under lock and key. He’d learned long ago not to let his emotions get away from him. When he did, bad things happened. People got hurt.

And pretty as she was, she could still be a murderer.

Nita led him down the hall to his room. “Jane will change your linens once a week and you’ll find fresh towels in the bathroom closet,” she said from the bedroom doorway. “There’s only one bathroom upstairs so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t mind.” Connor set his bag on the hand-stitched quilt draped over the full-size bed. The room was decorated in creams and beiges with dark blue and green accents and the pine furniture looked to be antique. It was a small room, but he didn’t need much space.

“If you leave your dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper Jane will wash them for you.”

“I can do my own laundry.”

Nita laughed—a husky, rich laugh. “You’ll have to get through Jane first, and I’ll warn you, she’s temperamental as a rattlesnake when it comes to other people using her fancy new washer and dryer. Ever since I plugged up the drain and flooded the laundry room trying to do a load.”

“Long as she doesn’t mind,” Connor said.

“Believe me, she doesn’t. She takes a lot of pride in keeping the household running smoothly. Normally she would be here to greet you and show you around, but she’s at the hospital with Daddy.”

“She’s been with you a long time?”

“Ever since Momma got sick. Jane practically raised me and my sister.”

Which meant she would be unlikely as a suspect, but he had to consider every angle. Every possibility.

She nodded toward his bag. “Would you like some time to unpack and settle in?”

“No, ma’am, I can do that later. I’d like to get started. I’ll need a tour of the house and the property.”

“We’ll have to be careful. The boys haven’t gotten all the holes filled yet, and I don’t want any more horses or people hurt. I’m assuming you can ride.”

He hadn’t ridden since he was a kid, but he was sure once he was in the saddle it would come back to him. “I’ll manage.”

“Well, then, why don’t we head out to the stable?”

They started down the stairs, side by side, and Nita’s scent drifted his way. She smelled like fresh air and dust and faintly of sweat. And something else, something sweet, and a little flowery. Since he couldn’t imagine her wearing perfume, he decided it was probably her soap or shampoo. And it was distracting him.

Now he understood what his brother, Logan and Gavin had been alluding to when they asked Connor if he would mind working with a woman like Nita. They weren’t worried that he wouldn’t like her. They thought he might like her too much. But he wouldn’t let this attraction he was feeling cloud his judgment.

“Tell me about this feud,” he said to get his mind back on track. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors. What’s it really all about?”

“It’s been going on for over a hundred years. My great-great-grandfather, Richard Windcroft, lost half his land to Nicholas Devlin in a poker game. The Windcrofts swore that he cheated, but the courts ruled in Devlin’s favor. A few weeks later Nicholas was shot dead and my grandfather was blamed, but there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him. We’ve been at odds ever since.”

“Do you think Richard killed him?”

“He swore he didn’t, and Windcrofts are honest men.”

“So, if the Devlins are behind the threats, why do they want you off the land?”

“They’ve always wanted our land.”

“But why now?”

Nita shrugged. “I don’t know. Do they even need a reason?”

“Do you think there could be a connection to Jonathan Devlin’s death?”

She stopped and spun to face him, her eyes dark with anger. “Don’t think I don’t know what people are saying. I may have hated Jonathan Devlin, but I didn’t have anything to do with his death. Not me or anyone else here. You got that?”

Whoa. She didn’t pull any punches. He hadn’t known too many women who were so in-your-face direct.

“I don’t listen to gossip,” he told her. “Only facts. And right now, the facts don’t point to the Devlins.”

“If it’s not the Devlins, then who would do this. And why?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“It’s the damndest thing,” Jimmy Bradley said. He, Nita and Connor stood in the west corral studying one of the holes the farm hands hadn’t yet filled. After touring the property, Connor understood how someone could dig holes in the more remote areas undetected. Under the cover of darkness, unless someone was out guarding the perimeter, it would be nearly impossible to see them. But whoever had done this one had dug not three hundred yards from the bunkhouse where the farm hands slept. The question was, why?

The holes were definitely made with a shovel, and the guilty party had left footprints in the fresh dirt. Connor crouched down and inspected the tracks. They were cowboy boots, and large, so he was guessing it was a man. Which could have been half the population of Texas for all he knew. Without a boot to compare it to, the prints wouldn’t do him much good. He’d call Gavin and have a deputy come out and photograph them just in case.

One thing the prints did tell, him however, was that Nita hadn’t done this—not that he’d thought she had.

“Could it be someone working on the farm?” Connor asked Jimmy.

“No, sir,” Jimmy said with a firm shake of his head. “A few of the hands might be a little wild, but they’re good, honest men and loyal to the Windcrofts. They would never do this.”

Connor stood and brushed the dirt from his hands. “What about a past, disgruntled employee?”

“Well, there was one man we let go early last year,” Jimmy said. “And it wasn’t on the best of terms.”

Nita shot him a deadly look. “He wouldn’t do this.”

“I need to know who he is and what happened,” Connor told her. “I need to investigate every possible angle.”

Her chin rose a notch. “His name is Sam Wilkins. The gist of it is, my daddy caught me and him in a…compromising position in the stable. Daddy asked Sam if he planned to marry me. When Sam said no, Daddy ran him off the farm with a shotgun.”

Connor fought the grin that mental picture stirred up. “So, this man, he took advantage of you?”

The look she gave him was one of pure disdain, and her chin rose even higher. “Excuse me, but do I look like the kind of woman a man could take advantage of?”

At that very second, no. In fact, he was pretty sure she could hold her own with a grizzly bear. An emotion that felt like envy burned through him when he thought of the lucky individual who’d had his hands on that lean, lithe body of hers. He wondered if she’d be the shy, demure type in bed, or rowdy and assertive.

Something told him this woman didn’t have a demure bone in her body. She would be full of passion and fire.

All the more reason to keep his thoughts on the assignment and off Nita. He wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone—especially someone like her. The more attracted he was to a woman, the more desirable he found her, the more likely he was to lose control. And when he lost control, bad things happened. Which was the number one reason he hadn’t been in a gratifying relationship with a woman in longer than he could remember.

“Besides,” Nita said, drawing him back into the here and now, “last I heard he was foreman at his cousin’s farm in Kentucky, so it couldn’t have been him.”

Connor was sure there was more to the story, but he had the suspicion he’d get his head bitten off if he asked. And she was right, it probably wasn’t that employee. “Is there anyone besides the Devlins who has some kind of grudge against you?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question a million times and I just can’t think of anyone.”

“Maybe your father would know of someone?”

“I was planning to go visit him after we’re finished. I can ask him then.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you.”

“Who’s going to watch the farm?” she demanded.

He hadn’t planned to come right out and tell her that he was assigned to be her bodyguard, and he had the feeling that when she figured it out for herself all hell would break loose. Either way, he was going to escort her to the hospital. If someone meant her harm he was going to be there to protect her.

“I’m sure Jimmy and the other men can keep an eye on things until I get back.”

“We can do that,” Jimmy said. The old man gave Connor a look, as if he had a pretty good idea that Connor wasn’t there to watch just the farm.

“Besides,” Connor said. “I doubt someone would be foolish enough to try something in broad daylight. Unless you think your father’s not up to the company yet.”

“If I know my daddy, he’s already pitching a fit to get home. He wants to get to the bottom of this just as badly as I do. I’m sure he won’t mind you coming.”

“The sooner he gets back, the better,” Jimmy said gruffly. “The boys went into town for supplies this morning and already there’s been talk.”

“What kind of talk?” Connor asked.

“That with Will gone, and all the disturbances out here, things are bound to fall apart.”

Nita’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t those busybodies in town have anything better to talk about?”

“Why would they think that?” Connor asked.

“After word got around about the poisoned feed we lost customers,” Jimmy said. “People pay top dollar to have their horses trained by Nita. If we can’t guarantee a horse’s safety, people stop callin’.”

“All the more reason to catch the son of a bitch,” Nita said, her eyes two violet embers.

Connor was convinced right then and there that Nita would never purposely cause trouble on the farm, not if it affected her livelihood.

“Seen enough?” she asked him.

He nodded and followed her out of the corral to where they’d left their horses. As they mounted, Nita noticed that he winced a little as he settled into the saddle. She often gave lessons to new riders and recognized the signs of a sore rear end. If he was achy from the short amount of time they’d been out, he’d be hurting like the devil by nightfall.

“We’ll go this way,” Nita said, leading him up the property line toward the main stable.

“How bad is it?” Connor asked.

“How bad is what?”

“Your financial situation.”

She didn’t want to discuss the farm finances with a stranger, whether he’d agreed to help her or not. It was no one else’s business. And every time she let herself think about it, a new notch of fear worked itself into her side.

“We’re holding our own,” she told him. What she didn’t say is that if business didn’t pick up soon, if they continued to lose customers, it wouldn’t be long before they went bankrupt. Then the Devlins would get what they’d been after all these years.

With her daddy out of commission, the burden of making things right landed squarely on her shoulders. But she could handle it. And when she found out who was trying to ruin them, that person was going to wish they were never born.

Chapter Three

When Nita and Connor stepped into her daddy’s hospital room an hour later he was asleep, and Jane was perched in one of the visitor’s chairs reading a romance novel—her one personal indulgence. 1:00 p.m. every afternoon, for exactly one hour she could be found on the cedar swing, or curled up on the couch, her nose buried in a book. Unless someone was bleeding to death or the house was in flames, everyone knew better than to weasel in on her “me” time.

Nita figured, under the circumstances, it would be safe to interrupt her. “Hi, Jane,” she said softly.

Jane looked up, smiled and set the book down. Despite being away from the farm, she wore her typical work attire—plaid shirt, jeans and canvas tennis shoes—and her long dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She was nowhere close to the stunning beauty Nita’s mother had been, but she had a quiet grace about her that Nita had always admired. And Jane didn’t let anyone, especially the men on the farm, push her around. Though she was a good ten years younger than Nita’s daddy, if anyone wore the pants in the Windcroft family, it was her.

“Hey, honey,” Jane said, rising to give Nita a hug. Jane had been at the hospital late last night and had come back early that morning, and she looked tired for it. “How are things going at the house?”

“Breakfast was a bit of a fiasco,” Nita said. “But I managed to get most of the burnt smell out of the house.”

Jane cringed. “Lord, I don’t even want to know.”

Nita nodded toward the bed. “Has he been asleep long?”

“He’s been in and out all morning. When he’s not asleep he’s complaining that he wants to go home.”

“That sounds about normal.” For as long as Nita could remember her daddy had hated hospitals, especially Royal Memorial. He’d never said so, but she figured it had a lot to do with her mother’s illness. From what Nita had been told by her sister, who was old enough at the time to remember the chain of events, their momma had been feeling sick for a while but never went to the doctor. When she finally did, the cancer had spread so far there was nothing they could do but make her comfortable. She’d hung on for three months. Most of that time spent in this very hospital.

“Who’s this young man?” Jane asked, giving Connor a curious look.

“Jane, this is Connor Thorne. He’s going to be staying with us for a while, keeping an eye on things.”

“Ma’am,” Connor said, shaking her hand.

“Well, thank heaven for that,” Jane said, glancing in Will’s direction. “Things have gotten out of hand.”

“Do you think it would be okay to wake him?” Nita asked. “Connor has some questions.”

“Like a fella could sleep through all this chitchat,” Will mumbled from the bed, gazing up at them through bleary eyes.

Nita moved to his side and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. He looked a hell of a sight better than he had yesterday. But propped up in the hospital bed, his leg in plaster from his foot all the way up to his thigh, he looked a decade older than his fifty-eight years—as if he’d aged overnight. “How are you feeling Daddy?”

“Like I keep telling the doctors, I feel fine. I’m ready to go home.” He looked past her to Connor, who stood by the door, hands clasped behind his back, military straight. “You keepin’ an eye on my girl?”

Connor gave a single nod. “Yes, sir.”

Nita didn’t correct her father by telling him Connor was there to watch the farm, not her. She’d let him believe that if it eased his mind.

“Daddy, Connor would like to ask you a couple of questions.” She motioned for Connor to join her at his bedside. “He’s trying to find out who did this.”

“I know exactly who’s responsible,” Will said bitterly. “It was the Devlins.”

“The truth is, there’s just no evidence pointing to the Devlins and they’ve firmly denied any involvement,” Connor told him. “Is there anyone else you could think of that has a grudge against you?”

He shook his head. “No one. It’s the Devlins all right.”

Connor could see where Nita got her stubborn streak. They looked alike, too. Same dark hair, same high cheekbones and proud chin.

“You just worry about getting better,” Nita said, patting his hand. “I’ll handle things.”

Will smiled up at his daughter, pride shinning in his eyes. It amazed Connor how easy it was for some men to show the emotion. He’d strived for years to see that look in his own father’s eyes. And despite all he’d done to please James Thorne, Connor still didn’t feel he measured up. He probably never would.

“I want you to hire extra help,” Nita’s father told her. “Temporarily, until I’m back on my feet.”

That chin of hers rose. “I can handle things just fine.”

Connor had a feeling her resistance had little to do with her own abilities and everything to do with their financial situation. He suspected things were worse than she’d let on earlier that morning. And she probably didn’t want to worry her father.

“Don’t worry about things on the farm, Mr. Windcroft,” Connor said. “I’ll be helping Nita while I’m there.”

He didn’t know much about horse farms, but this gave him a good excuse to be close to Nita so he could keep an eye on her.

Nita flashed him an uneasy look, then turned to her father and smiled. “See, Daddy, I’ve got all the help I need. You just concentrate on healing.”

Nita, Jane and her father chatted for a few more minutes, then Nita kissed him goodbye and she and Connor headed out to the parking lot. They’d barely cleared the door when Nita turned to him and said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of my daddy, but here’s the thing. I really appreciate your offer to help out, but I can’t afford pay you.”

“I never asked you to.”

Nita matched his long stride. “That’s not the point. It wouldn’t be fair for you to work for free.”

“If I’m going to be there anyway, I may as well make myself useful.” Connor pulled his keys from his pocket and as they neared the car, he unlocked the doors. “Besides, you are paying me. Room and board.”

“What do you know about working a horse farm?” she asked.

“Not much.” He opened her door for her, and though she hesitated and looked at him a little funny, she got in. He walked around and climbed behind the wheel, wincing as his backside hit the leather seat. Hell on earth, that smarted. How could a couple hours on a horse do so much damage?

“Do you know anything about horse training or breeding?” she asked.

He started the engine. “Nope, but I’m a fast learner.”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking wary. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Nita, I’m not hurting for money, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m set for life. Working for you isn’t going to break me.”

He could see her hackles rising. “So, what? Are you saying I’m a charity case?”

He shook his head. She did have pride by the bucketload. “How about this? I’ll help you out at the farm and you can teach me everything you know about raising horses.”

“Like a trade?”

“Yeah, like a trade. Then it all comes out even.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You would want to learn?”

“Sure, why not? I like to learn new things.”

“And while we’re at it, I’ll teach you to ride. Since you’re looking a little—” she gave his backside a meaningful look “—uncomfortable.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“I’m just very observant,” she said, and he could swear there was a suggestive lilt in her tone, in the way she let her eyes wander over him. She was the last woman in the world he would have expected to be a flirt, but here she was doing just that. And doing it well.

“So we’ve got a deal?” he asked.

She considered it a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got a deal. Now, how about some lunch at the Royal Diner. With Jane gone there’s no one to do the cooking and I’m starved. If I botch another meal the way I did breakfast, the men are gonna string me up by my toes. They said my cooking is about as appetizing as horse feed.”

Connor let a grin slip through. He was feeling a bit hungry himself. “The Royal Diner it is.”

Though some people preferred the fine French cuisine of Claire’s, the Royal Diner would always be Nita’s favorite. She loved the red vinyl booths and stools, the long counter where you could always find a friendly companion to share lunch with. She breathed in the scent of frying burgers and the mouthwatering tang of Manny’s famous chili. But most of all, Nita liked it because her sister told her their momma liked to take them there. They would have burgers and milkshakes and their momma always gave them a penny for the gumball machine. Even though Nita didn’t remember it, it was one more small connection, one link to the mother she wished she could remember.