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Authors: Karen Templeton

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Ella was a beauty with thick, long, wavy auburn hair and blue-blue eyes. Lucie respected her. She wore minimal makeup and preferred to be admired for her brains rather than her body. She’d dressed today as she usually did, in dress jeans, a Western-cut blouse and expensive boots. In contrast, Vivian was taller than Ella with hazel eyes and honey-streaked brown hair that she wore pulled back today. She also wore glasses—very stylish ones. A computer programmer, she’d dressed in a navy pantsuit with a red blouse. She was shyer than Ella but smart and fun. Lucie liked both of these women immensely and was glad to call them friends. As she took a seat with them, she noticed they’d already ordered her a mimosa.

“You don’t have to drive this morning,” Ella counseled her. “Let loose. Champagne and orange juice are a good way to start your day.”

Lucie laughed. “I can’t let too loose. I want to choose the right office space for the Fortune Foundation. It has to be utilitarian, but classy, too, with just the right square footage to fit what they want to do.”

“And what is that?” Vivian asked after a quick hug.

“What I’m looking for would mostly be a functional space. If we have programs for kids, they would probably be at other sites.”

“Or maybe at a community center?” Ella offered. “I can see the Fortunes building one of those.”

“Just how long are you going to be in Austin?” Vivian asked.

“I’m free until April, when I fly to Guatemala with my mother to start a project there.”

“How do you like living in Austin? I know your sister likes living in Horseback Hollow.”

Lucie took the napkin from her plate and spread it onto her lap. “Amelia loves Horseback Hollow. But truth be told, I prefer Austin. It’s more metropolitan than Horseback Hollow.”

Vivian and Ella both exchanged a look. “You won’t get any arguments there,” Vivian said. “In Horseback Hollow, everybody knows everybody’s business.”

“And in Austin,” Vivian supplied, “they just know Lady Lucie Fortune Chesterfield’s business. Any reporters lately?”

“Irv says one’s been hanging around, but I haven’t run into him face-to-face yet.” She took a sip of her mimosa. “You both look good,” Lucie said to them, narrowing her eyes. “Are you happy?”

Ella sighed. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Me either,” Viv agreed. “And not only with Wes. We think the app I developed, My Perfect Match, is going to continue to be a huge hit. I mean, after all, it brought me and Wes together, though not exactly in the way I intended.”

Although she was listening to Viv, Lucie couldn’t help letting her mind wander again to Chase leaving his card with Irv. “Just when you think you have life planned out, fate shoves it in another direction.”

“Exactly,” Viv responded. “And I’m trying to think of a way to balance My Perfect Match. Tell me something, Lucie. Do you think it’s better to hook up with someone you know you’re compatible with, or should you hook up with someone who sets your heart on fire?”

Wasn’t that a question for the test of time? Because of her own experience, Lucie responded sadly, “Flames die down. Compatibility might be better long-term.”

“That sounds like experience to me.” Ella motioned to Lucie’s mimosa. “Come on and drink that, and tell us who taught you about flames.”

Lucie had slipped Chase’s card into her jacket pocket. Now she touched it, and when she did, she remembered all too vividly the touch of his hands. Her cheeks grew warm, and she blamed that on the mimosa. What could it hurt to talk about it a little? “Come on,” Viv coaxed. “You know all about
our
love affairs.”

“What was his name?” Ella prompted.

“His name was Chase.”

“Now, that’s a good Texas name if I ever heard one,” Viv noted. “But he couldn’t have been a Texan if you were living in England.”

“Oh, but he
was
a Texan. His father owned an oil company and they were wealthy. I was seventeen when we met in England at the start of the trip to Scotland. Chase was a group leader. I thought it was love at first sight, but I guess it was just lust at first sight. We got caught together in the hostel room. So much about it was against the rules. A leader consorting with one of the tourists, being in his room alone together, both of us undressed...” She trailed off. “Chase got fired, and I was sent home.” At least that was the gist of the story.

Contrite, feeling disgraced in the eyes of her parents, Lucie had vowed to herself to never do anything so reckless again. She’d maintained that vow by pouring all of her energy into setting up orphanages with her mother in developing countries. Their lives were about helping needy children.

“You never saw or heard from him again?”

“I received a letter. I wrote him many, but I never heard from him after that first one.”

“You didn’t call him?”

“Not what a proper lady would do,” Lucie answered almost teasingly, though there had been other reasons not to call, too.

Should she tell them about Chase dropping off his card at her apartment? No. He might not even come back. She was sure nothing would come of it.

Lucie had learned early on the best way to turn attention away from herself was to listen to another’s story, and she knew these women had stories to tell. Ella’s husband, Ben, had recently found out he was a Fortune and that his father, whom he’d always known as Gerald Robinson, was really Jerome Fortune, who had disappeared years ago. Ben was now on a quest to locate other relatives. The Robinsons might be Fortune cousins.

“Has Ben gotten any further in proving that his father is really Jerome Fortune?”

“His father is thwarting him at every turn,” Ella said with a frown. “His sister, Rachel, who uncovered the connection and confronted their dad, is sure their father is hiding something. Ben wants the truth. He has seven siblings who want to know about their roots, whether his father wants to deny the past or not. Thanks to you, he located Keaton Whitfield, who’s his half sibling.”

In one of those quirks of fate, Lucie had already known Keaton, an architect in London. He’d designed a house for one of her mother’s friends, and he and Lucie had run into each other at a few parties. He was what the Americans would call a stand-up guy. When Ben had asked for an introduction to him, she’d readily complied.

“Hasn’t he located anyone else who might be related?” Lucie asked. Apparently Ben’s father had had several affairs.

“Right now he’s on the trail of Jacqueline Fortune, who may or may not be his paternal grandmother,” Ella revealed.

“This is a mystery unraveling before our eyes,” Viv said with enthusiasm. “I can’t wait for the next installment.”

Brunch was full of more Fortune stories, including the party Kate Fortune had planned for her ninetieth birthday. Lucie, Viv and Ella kept their voices low because Kate Fortune’s residence at the Silver Spur Ranch near Austin was still a secret, except to the Fortune family. In the past, Kate had been the target of blackmail and kidnapping attempts. Now, looking for an heir for her company and not wanting media attention about it, she intended to keep her presence in Austin quiet.

When Lucie checked her watch, she saw the day was moving ahead without her, and she really had to get on with looking at properties. After goodbyes to Viv and Ella, she called the real estate agent who was advising her. They agreed to meet at the first location on Lucie’s list and then tour the others together afterward.

By late afternoon, while Lucie sat in the car on her way back to her apartment, she was quite discouraged. None of the spaces had seemed quite right. She was becoming more and more sure that she might also have to help find satellite locations for the actual kids’ programs themselves—summer lunches, music, art, sports. Building a community center might be a possibility, unless the foundation could find already established and deserving programs to fund.

Barry pulled up in front of her apartment building. She was tired and all she wanted to do was soak in her tub. After she climbed from the car, Irv came to meet her at the curb. That was unusual, since the doors had an electric sensor.

He said quickly, “Just in case you wanted to get back in your car and go in the other direction, I wanted to warn you, the man who was here this morning is waiting at my desk.”

Lucie stood at the curb and peered through the glass doors into the lobby. Her heart began to beat in triple time. The man at Irv’s desk
was
Chase Parker. She couldn’t tell exactly how much he’d changed from when he was twenty-one. After all, he’d be thirty-one now. But she could tell he was still as tall and straight-shouldered. The Western-cut jacket he wore fit him impeccably, his black jeans and boots just as much so.

He turned toward her now, and that tilt of his Stetson told her some of the young man still remained.

“It’s fine, Irv. Apparently he has some business with me, and I have to see what that is.”

She squared her shoulders, forgot her fatigue and started forward to meet her past head-on.

Lucie walked through the glass doors and approached Chase, thinking his dark hair was still the color of the finest imported chocolate. His dark brown eyes seemed to take in everything about her all at once. Even in that wonderfully cut jacket, she could tell he was more muscular than he’d been at twenty-one but not too bulked up. He was long and lean and still looked like everything good about Texas.

Before Lucie took another step toward the unknown, she turned to Irv who’d come in behind her. “Not a word of this meeting to anyone, not anyone.” After all, Irv knew Chase’s name from the business card. If the press associated their names, if reporters started digging, a new scandal could erupt.

“Not a word, Lady Lucie. You know you can count on me.”

“Thank you, Irv. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. Was that reporter around here at all today?”

“I didn’t see him...or the news van.”

She nodded and stepped up to Chase. She felt as if all her composure had slipped away, though she knew that was crazy. After all, she’d practiced that her entire life.

With that stiff upper lip Brits were accused of having, she said simply, “Chase?”

“You’ve grown up.” His gaze traveled over her suit, seemed to linger on her tiny waist, then idled on her long, straight brown hair. She wondered if he could see all the questions in her hazel eyes. She wondered if he had any idea of what seeing him again did to her—increased her heart rate and brought back vivid pictures of the two of them together, but, most of all, squeezed her heart until it hurt.

He nodded to the corner beside the elevators that was away from the doors, Irv’s counter and everyone else for the time being. She walked with him and stood beside a potted palm.

Before she could ask a question, he inquired, “Do you know how hard it is to track you down, even though you and your family and your stories are spread across the tabloids?”

Lucie was flummoxed. So he’d kept up with articles in the tabloids as if they were true.

He went on. “I thought you were in London. Then I found out you were in Horseback Hollow. After consulting a PI, I learned you were here in Austin, where my father’s company is located. If you only knew how much time I wasted—”

After all these years, he was acting as if seeing her was an emergency. “My life is full of people and activities, as I imagine yours is.”

“I don’t globe-trot. I was beginning to have visions of my traveling to some developing country to see you.”

“Would that have been so bad?” she asked, sensing his agitation but still not understanding any of it.

He took off his Stetson, ran his hand through his thick hair and shook his head. “None of that came out right. I read the stories about your work with orphans and refugees. I know you and your mother are selfless in your cause. But I had to find you.”

“Why such urgency?”

“Because...” he started. He leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’re still married.”

Copyright © 2016 by Harlequin Books S.A.

ISBN-13: 9781488002304

Back in the Saddle

Copyright © 2016 by Karen Templeton-Berger

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical,
now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com

BOOK: 0373659458 (R)
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