Harlequin American Romance October 2013 Bundle: Twins Under the Christmas Tree\Big Sky Christmas\Her Wyoming Hero\A Rancher's Christmas (34 page)

“He feared the onslaught of progress.”

“You can't blame him. But the ever-increasing demand for gas in the U.S. has led to a quadrupling of the price, causing companies in Russia and Venezuela, both big natural gas suppliers, to have shut off access to foreign companies. The same in the Gulf of Mexico where easy-to-drill reserves have been depleted. Progress has made its way to your door.”

Carson pushed his cowboy hat back on his head. “You're talking about drilling for it right here?”

“This is the flattest uninhabited section of your land away from people and animals. Bringing in a road over this section would cause the least amount of disturbance to the environment and would be virtually invisible. Naturally I can't give you proof there's gas here without doing some preliminary drilling.”

His friend was quiet for a minute. “Wouldn't that cost a ton of money I don't have?”

Ross nodded. “But I have some savings I can draw from. It would be my way of investing in your ranch to give you something back after what you've done for me. Then I'd feel a real part of it.”

“You already are,” Carson answered solemnly.

“I'd like to do more for you.”

After a pause Carson asked, “What all would be involved?”

Ross was pleased his friend was at least listening to his proposal. “Wyoming's gas is unconventional. It doesn't sit in easy pools above oil, but thousands of feet beneath the earth in pockets of sandstone and coal formations. If the gas is there, the steel pipe will have to drive 11,000 feet into the ground to capture it.

“One good thing. Nowadays gas companies can put the derricks down on mats instead of the ground in order to preserve the top soil and roots. But there's no way around the fact that there are still a lot of negatives, and always will be.”

“You've got me thinking,” Carson said as Ross's phone rang, interrupting their conversation.

When he saw it was the ranch calling, he clicked on. “Hey, Willy. What's up?” The part-time mechanic helped run the front desk.

“There's been another change in the Wentworths' itinerary you need to know about.”

He coughed. “What's that?” Earlier in the week their latest invited guest had already indicated she wouldn't be able to make it on Friday and would come Saturday instead.

“The fax says she and her son will be flying into Jackson Hole at three p.m.”

He frowned while Carson looked on. “I wonder why they aren't coming in on the flight we arranged.” They weren't supposed to be due in until six-thirty this evening.

“I don't know. Since you're out touring the ranch, do you want me to go for them?”

Ross checked his watch. There was time to get back and shower if he and Carson left now. “No.” This was his responsibility. “I'll do it. Thanks for the heads-up, Willy.” He clicked off.

“What's going on?”

“Mrs. Wentworth will be here at three instead of six-thirty. I need to get going.”

“I'll ride with you. I promised to spend part of the day showing Johnny how to ride bareback.”

“That boy gets better every day.”

“He's a natural.”

“Just like his new dad.” Ross smiled at his friend. “Carson? Give what we talked about some thought and let me know later.”

“Why don't you get a few bids together and we'll go from there.”

“I'm going to get on it pronto.”

They took off at a gallop. Carson hadn't said no. Drilling a hole from start to finish would take a month. It would be better to do it before winter set in. Ross would arrange to meet an oil engineer out here on Monday. Then he could present it to Carson with more information to back up his idea.

But right now he had other things on his mind. For the next week he would have his hands full entertaining a nine-year-old boy who'd lost his father and was grieving.

Ross hoped he was as sweet as Johnny Lundgren, Carson's newly adopted seven-year-old son. The boy had charmed everyone on the ranch with his curiosity and good nature, and had walked right into his friend's heart. For that matter so had Buck's new stepdaughter, Jenny. Ross was crazy about both the kids.

Once they'd returned their horses to the barn, Carson took off for his new house, the one Buck had built for him, Tracy and Johnny on the property near the Snake River. Buck came from a family who owned a construction business. As for Ross, he drove the Jeep back to the main ranch house to get cleaned up.

Since Buck had moved downstairs with his wife, Alex, and her granddaughter, Jenny, Ross had the whole top floor of the place to himself. For the first time since his return from Afghanistan last January, he was aware of his “aloneness” and didn't like it.

With his mood becoming decidedly morose on that score, Ross was lucky he had guests to pick up.

Carson's earlier question about a possible woman on Ross's mind had hit a nerve.
One day, I'll have a family of my own.

* * *

T
HE
JET
FROM
Denver taxied to a stop at the Jackson airport. Kit's heart hammered in her ears. She undid the seat belt and got to her feet, glancing at her desperately unhappy son who was still sleepy from the medicine she'd given him for air sickness.

This was it. The day she'd been praying for had come.

Freedom.

Joy of joys, she and Andy were the
only
ones in the Wentworth family invited to stay on the Wyoming ranch. They would have a whole week to themselves to get closer and make plans for the future. When they left, they would be going to a new place to live. She had it all arranged. If her in-laws wanted to remain in her life and Andy's, they would have to deal with her move and accept it.

The letter inviting them here had served as a stepping-stone to their new life. When these retired marines had shown such kindness and generosity, she'd been moved to tears, not only for Andy's sake, but her own. Not that her son hadn't had a different attitude than hers when she'd first told him.

“I'm
not
going.” He'd sounded so much like his obstinate deceased father, with that same mulish tone of voice that often crept in these days. “I don't want to go anywhere.”

“Honey, this is a great honor for all of us. Think of it—these military men are trying to show you how much they care what your dad did to save lives.”

“I don't want to go.” He'd kicked the end of his bed in anger.

“Andy—I never want to see you do that again!”

“But a dude ranch sounds stupid!” He'd turned away from her.

To her horror, he was becoming more and more unmanageable lately. He hadn't seemed to enjoy the cruise vacation at all. His grandparents were so cold and controlling. Winn's death only served to have brought a permanent winter into their lives. Though she'd been out of love with her husband for years, she ached for Andy and what he was going through, after losing his father.

“How could a vacation like this be stupid?”

“They're a bunch of lame marines. I
hate
them!”

Kit thought she understood. To Andy, a letter from the marines represented death and was a terrible reminder of the many months over the years his father had been away on deployment.

This trip would be the first time in years the two of them were completely on their own without the family there to run Andy's life. Though he'd finally stopped fighting her over the decision to bring him to Wyoming, she saw the deep misery in his eyes. Unfortunately, her darling son had no idea how much more misery was in store for him if they didn't make the break from his grandparents, who were swallowing them alive.

Winn and his parents had decided years ago that when Andy turned nine, he would be sent to a special elite boarding school located an hour away from Bar Harbor where discipline was strictly enforced. He'd be granted a weekend pass twice a month if he kept up his grades. He was due to start school there in mid-September.

Winn had been sent to the same school at his age and expected that for Andy. It was tradition among the Wentworths, one of the founding families of Maine. Her husband had paid the $50,000 deposit years earlier to reserve his place.

It didn't matter that he was no longer alive. Andy's grandfather would carry out his son's wishes and ignore hers. But Andy was
her
son and her
raison d'être.
When Kit had objected because she wanted Andy at home with her, he'd stated the matter was closed.

Since his death the tension at the Wentworth mansion had grown much worse. The out-of-the-blue letter from the ranch was a miracle, and had helped give her the jump start she needed to make some serious decisions. She knew that for her to move out and get a life of her own would be a huge change for both of them—not to mention traumatic for her in-laws.

That's why she needed this week in Wyoming first to prepare Andy. It would mean treading carefully to broach this plan with her son. If his anger grew any worse, he could possibly require professional help. What if in time Andy turned into his grandfather, outgrowing the sweetness of his nature he'd been born with?

“Honey?” she said quietly. “We've arrived.”

His eyes blinked open. They were a lighter gray than Winn's. His cheek had a line indented into it from lying against the seat. When he slept he became her dear son again, instead of the impossible nine-year-old child she no longer knew.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom before we leave the plane?”

“No.”
His rude answer resonated in the jet's interior. He unfastened his seat belt and got up with a scowl on his face. “I told you I don't want to be here.”

She was sick for him, knowing he was a volcano ready to explode from all of the pain and emotion he held inside. Kit had lost her influence over him years ago, but she was his mother and he needed her. Even if he wasn't aware of it.

Because the family had her trapped in an emotional vise of guilt, she'd been ineffectual in dealing with him. Now, that was going to change—she couldn't live under the same roof with her in-laws any longer. She had to leave, and when she did there'd be no going back.

With his shoulders slumped, Andy started down the aisle behind the other passengers without saying anything else. She grabbed her handbag and followed him to the exit. When they reached the inside of the terminal, Kit saw a cowboy in well-worn boots striding toward them with unconscious male authority. A brown Western shirt and jeans covered his tall, fit physique.

The striking male looked to be in his early thirties. He tipped back his sand-colored cowboy hat, revealing a widow's peak of raven-black hair. There were no rings on his fingers. “Mrs. Wentworth?”

As she moved closer his dark brown eyes sized her up. They were neither admiring or leering, one of the two looks she was used to receiving from men. For the first time since she could remember, she saw a guarded look coming from the stranger's eyes and wondered why.

“Are you Mr. Lundgren?”

“No. I'm Ross Livingston, his business partner.” He possessed a deep voice, but his civil response didn't have the Western twang she'd expected.

“I remember your name from the letter. It's a great pleasure to meet you. This is my son, Andy. I'm sorry if you had trouble meeting this earlier plane. We've been in Norway and caught a flight out of New York to Denver that put us in here ahead of schedule.”

“No problem at all. We're glad you arrived safely.”

Still feeling unsettled by the way he'd been looking at her, she said, “We're very honored you would choose our family when there are so many others affected by the war. Andy's father would be incredibly proud.”

“After your husband's sacrifice, we consider it our pleasure.” He stepped forward to shake their hands but focused his attention on Andy. “Welcome to the Teton Valley Dude Ranch, son.” After a cough he asked, “Have you ever been to Wyoming?”

“No.” The peeved sound that came out of Andy was totally mortifying to her.

Kit glanced at their host. “I'm afraid he just woke up from a sound sleep.”

“I understand. Long transatlantic flights do the same thing to me.” He'd said it with urbane sophistication, acting as if nothing was wrong, but she knew
he
knew there was plenty wrong with her son. “Let's gather your luggage.”

They walked over to the carousel. “We have three cases. They're the navy ones with the red-and-white trim.”

He reached for them, and they followed him outside past the other passengers to a black, four-door Jeep. He stowed the suitcases in the rear with what looked like effortless ease. To her consternation, the play of hard muscle across his back and shoulders drew her attention without her volition.

Andy just stood there without helping, causing Kit more embarrassment. Their host spoke to him. “Do you prefer the front or backseat?”

“Back,” he mumbled.

“I'll sit with you, honey.” Kit opened the rear door and climbed in before Mr. Livingston had time to help. Andy got in next to her and pulled the door shut. Their host slid his powerful body behind the wheel of the Jeep, coughing again before they took off.

She glanced out her window so she wouldn't be tempted to stare at the way his black hair curled in tendrils against the bronzed skin of his neck. Since seeing him walk toward her in the terminal, she'd felt breathless, assuming it was because of the six thousand feet or more altitude after coming from sea level. But upon closer examination, she realized it was the stunning-looking male driving the Jeep who'd caused her lungs to constrict.

The farther away they got from the airport, the freer she felt, despite the tension emanating from both her son and the enigmatic male in front.

Maybe not enigmatic. That wasn't the word she was looking for. Still, something wasn't right. The cowboy's attitude wasn't as warm as the tone of his partner's letter that had touched her heart. She would have to wait until tonight after Andy had fallen asleep before she'd be able to apologize to their host about her son.