The Rancher & Heart of Stone (5 page)

King put down his coffee cup. “In her senior year, Maddie was Odalie’s worst enemy. There was a boy, seemingly a nice boy, who liked Maddie. But Odalie liked him, and she was angry that Maddie, a younger girl who wasn’t pretty or rich or talented, seemed to be winning in the affection sweepstakes.”

“I told Maddie, Odalie’s not like that,” Cort began angrily.

King held up a hand. “Just hear me out. Don’t interrupt.”

Cort made a face, but he shut up.

“So Odalie and a girlfriend got on one of the social websites and started posting things that she said Maddie told her about the boy. She said Maddie thought he was a hick, that his mother was stupid, that both his parents couldn’t even pass a basic IQ test.”

“What? That’s a lie...!”

“Sit down!” King’s voice was soft, but the look in his eyes wasn’t. Cort sat.

“The boy’s mother was dying of cancer. He was outraged and furious at what Maddie had allegedly said about his family. His mother had just been taken to the hospital, not expected to live. She died that same day. He went to school just to find Maddie. She was in the library.” He picked up his cup and sipped coffee. “He jerked her out of her chair, slapped her over a table and pulled her by her hair to the window. He was in the act of throwing her out—and it was on the second floor—when the librarian screamed for help and two big, stronger boys restrained him, in the nick of time.”

Cort’s face froze. “Maddie told you that?”

“Her father’s lawyer told Cole Everett that,” came the terse reply. “There were at least five witnesses. The boy was arrested for assault. It was hushed up, because that’s what’s done in small communities to protect the families. Odalie was implicated, because the
attorney hired a private investigator to find the source of the allegations. They traced the posts to her computer.”

Cort felt uneasy. He was certain Odalie couldn’t have done such a thing. “Maybe somebody used her computer,” he began.

“She confessed,” King said curtly.

Cort was even more uneasy now.

“Cole Everett had his own attorney speak to the one Maddie’s father had hired. They worked out a compromise that wouldn’t involve a trial. But Odalie had to toe the line from that time forward. They put her on probation, you see. She had first-offender status, so her record was wiped when she stayed out of trouble for the next two years. She had a girlfriend who’d egged her on. The girlfriend left town shortly thereafter.”

“Yes,” Cort replied, relaxing. “I see now. The girlfriend forced her to do it.”

King made a curt sound deep in his throat. “Son, nobody forced her to do a damned thing. She was jealous of Maddie. She was lucky the boy didn’t kill Maddie, or she’d have been an accessory to murder.” He watched Cort’s face pale. “That’s right. And I don’t think even Cole Everett could have kept her out of jail if that had happened.”

Cort leaned back in his chair. “Poor Odalie.”

“Funny,” King said. “I would have said, ‘Poor Maddie.’”

Cort flushed. “It must have been terrible for both of them, I suppose.”

King just shook his head. He got up. “Blind as a bat,” he mused. “Just like me, when I was giving your mother hell twice a day for being engaged to my little brother. God, I hated him. Hated them both. Never would admit why.”

“Uncle Danny?” Cort exclaimed. “He was engaged to Mom?”

“He was. It was a fake engagement, however.” He chuckled. “He was just trying to show me what my feelings for Shelby really were. I forgave him every minute’s agony. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn’t realize how deeply a man could love a woman. All these years,” he added in a soft tone, “and those feelings haven’t lessened a bit. I hope you find that sort of happiness in your life. I wish it for you.”

“Thanks,” Cort said. He smiled. “If I can get Odalie to marry me, I promise you, I’ll have it.”

King started to speak, but thought better of it. “I’ve got some book work to do.”

“I’ve got a new video game I’m dying to try.” Cort chuckled. “It’s been a long day.”

“I appreciate you going over to talk to Maddie.”

“No problem. She just needed a few pointers.”

“She’s no cattlewoman,” King said worriedly. “She’s swimming upstream. She doesn’t even like cattle. She likes chickens.”

“Don’t say chickens,” Cort pleaded with a groan.

“Your problem isn’t with chickens, it’s with a rooster.”

“I’d dearly love to help him have a fatal heart attack,” Cort said irritably.

“He’ll die of old age one day.” His dad laughed.

“Maddie said that developer had been putting pressure on her to sell,” King added solemnly. “I’ve put on some extra help to keep an eye over that way, just to make sure her breeding stock doesn’t start dying mysteriously.”

“What?” Cort asked, shocked. “She didn’t say anything about that.”

“Probably wouldn’t, to you. It smacks of weakness to mention such things to the enemy.”

“I’m not the enemy.”

King smiled. “Aren’t you?”

He left his son sitting at the table, deep in thought.

* * *

M
ADDIE
WAS
WORKING
in the yard when the developer drove up a week later. She leaned on the pitchfork she was using to put hay into a trough, and waited, miserable, for him to get out of his car and talk to her.

“I won’t sell,” she said when he came up to her. “And in case you feel like high pressure tactics, my neighbor has mounted cameras all over the ranch.” She flushed at his fury.

“Well, how about that?” he drawled, and his eyes were blazing with anger. He forced a smile. “You did know that cameras can be disabled?” he asked.

“The cameras also have listening devices that can pick up a whisper.”

He actually seemed to go pale. He looked at the poles that contained the outside lighting and mumbled a curse under his breath. There was some sort of electronic device up there.

“I’ll come back again one day and ask you the same question,” he promised, but he smiled and his voice was pleasant. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

“We also have cowboys in the line cabins on the borders of this ranch. Mr. Brannt is very protective of me since my father died. He buys many of our young breeding bulls,” she added for good measure.

He was very still. “King Brannt?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of him, I gather.”

He didn’t reply. He turned on his heel and marched back to his car. But this time he didn’t spin his wheels.

Maddie almost fell over with relief.

Just as the developer left, another car drove up, a sleek Jaguar, black with silver trim. Maddie didn’t recognize it. Oh, dear, didn’t some hit men drive fancy cars...?

The door opened and big John Everett climbed out of the low-slung luxury car, holding on to his white Stetson so that it wouldn’t be dislodged from his thick head of blond hair. Maddie almost laughed with relief.

John grinned as he approached her. He had pale blue eyes, almost silver-colored, like his dad’s, and he was a real dish. He and Odalie both had their mother’s blond fairness, instead of Cole Everett’s dark hair and olive complexion.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he drawled. “Black cars make you twitchy or something?”

“I think hit men drive them, is all.”

He burst out laughing. “I’ve never shot one single person. A deer or two, maybe, in season.” He moved toward her and stopped, towering over her. His pale eyes were dancing on her flushed face. “I ran into King Brannt at a cattlemen’s association meeting last night. He said you were having some problems trying to work out your father’s breeding program. He said Cort explained it to you.”

“Uh, well, yes, sort of.” It was hard to admit that even taking notes, she hadn’t understood much of what Cort had told her.

“Cort tried to tutor me in biology in high school. I got a D on the test. He’s good at genetics, lousy at trying to explain them.” He shoved his hat back on his head and grinned. “So I thought, maybe I’ll come over and have a try at helping you understand it.”

“You’re a nice guy, John,” she said gently. And he was. At the height of his sister’s intimidation, John had been on Maddie’s side.

He shrugged. “I’m the flower of my family.” His face hardened. “Even if she is my sister, Odalie makes me ashamed sometimes. I haven’t forgotten the things she did to you.”

“We all make mistakes when we’re young,” she faltered, trying to be fair.

“You have a gentle nature,” he observed. “Like Cort’s mother. And mine,” he added with a smile. “Mom can’t bear to see anything hurt. She cried for days when your father’s lawyer came over and told her and Dad what Odalie had done to you.”

“I know. She called me. Your dad did, too. They’re good people.”

“Odalie might be a better person if she had a few disadvantages,” John said coldly. “As things stand, she’ll give in to Cort’s persuasion one day and marry him. He’ll be in hell for the rest of his life. The only person she’s ever really loved is herself.”

“That’s harsh, John,” she chided gently.

“It’s the truth, Maddie.” He swung his pointing finger at her nose. “You’re like my mother...she’d find one nice thing to say about the devil.” He smiled. “I’m in the mood to do some tutoring today. But I require payment. Your great-aunt makes a mean cup of coffee, and I’m partial to French vanilla.”

“That’s my favorite.”

He chuckled. “Mine, too.” He went back to the car, opened the passenger seat, took out a big box and a bag. “So since I drink a lot of it, I brought my own.”

She caught her breath. It was one of those European coffee machines that used pods. Maddie had always wanted one, but the price was prohibitive.

“Sad thing is it only brews one cup at a time, but we’ll compensate.” He grinned. “So lead the way to the kitchen and I’ll show you how to use it.”

* * *

T
WO
CUPS
OF
mouthwatering coffee later, they were sitting in Maddie’s father’s office, going over breeding charts. John found the blackboard her father had used to map out the genetics. He was able to explain it so simply that Maddie understood almost at once which herd sires to breed to which cows.

“You make it sound so simple!” she exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, John!”

He laughed. “It’s all a matter of simplification,” he drawled. He leaned back in the chair and sketched Maddie’s radiant face with narrowed pale blue eyes. “You sell yourself short. It’s not that you can’t understand. You just have to have things explained. Cort’s too impatient.”

She averted her eyes. Mention of Cort made her uneasy.

“Yes, he loses his temper,” John said thoughtfully. “But he’s not dangerous. Not like that boy.”

She paled. “I can’t talk about it.”

“You can, and you should,” he replied solemnly. “Your father was advised to get some counseling for you, but he didn’t believe in such things. That boy had a record for domestic assault, did you ever know? He beat his grandmother almost to death one day. She refused to press charges, or he would have gone to jail. His parents jumped in and got a fancy lawyer and convinced the authorities that he wasn’t dangerous. I believe they contributed to the reelection campaign of the man who was police chief at the time as well.”

“That’s a harsh accusation,” she said, shocked.

“It’s a harsh world, and politics is the dirtiest business in town. Corruption doesn’t stop at criminals, you know. Rich people have a way of subverting justice from time to time.”

“You’re rich, and you don’t do those types of things.”

“Yes, I am rich,” he replied honestly. “And I’m honest. I have my own business, but I didn’t get where I am by depending on my dad to support me.”

She searched his eyes curiously. “Is that a dig at Cort?”

“It is,” he replied quietly. “He stays at home, works on the ranch and does what King tells him to do. I told him some time ago that he’s hurting himself by doing no more than wait to inherit Skylance, but he just nods and walks off.”

“Somebody will have to take over the ranch when King is too old to manage it,” she pointed out reasonably. “There isn’t anybody else.”

John grimaced. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s the same with me. Can you really see Odalie running a ranch?” He burst out laughing. “God, she might chip a fingernail!”

She grinned from ear to ear.

“Anyway, I was a maverick. I wanted my own business. I have a farm-equipment business and I also specialize in marketing native grasses for pasture improvement.”

“You’re an entrepreneur,” she said with a chuckle.

“Something like that, I guess.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You know I don’t date much.”

“Yes. Sort of like me. I’m not modern enough for most men.”

“I’m not modern enough for most women,” he replied, and smiled. “Uh, there’s going to be a dressy party over at the Hancock place to introduce a new rancher in the area. I wondered if you might like to go with me?”

“A party?” she asked. She did have one good dress. She’d bought it for a special occasion a while ago, and she couldn’t really afford another one with the ranch having financial issues. But it was a nice dress. Her eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time. I went with Dad to a conference in Denver before he got sick.”

“I remember. You looked very nice.”

“Well, I’d be wearing the same dress I had on then,” she pointed out.

He laughed. “I don’t follow the current fashions for women,” he mused. “I’m inviting you, not the dress.”

“In that case,” she said with a pert smile, “I’d be delighted!”

CHAPTER FOUR

S
OME
MEN
DRAGGED
their feet around the room and called it dancing. John Everett could actually dance! He knew all the Latin dances and how to waltz, although he was uncomfortable with some of the newer ways to display on a dance floor. Fortunately the organizers of the party were older people and they liked older music.

Only a minute into an enthusiastic samba, John and Maddie found themselves in the middle of the dance floor with the other guests clapping as they marked the fast rhythm.

“We should take this show on the road.” John chuckled as they danced.

“I’m game. I’ll give up ranching and become a professional samba performer, if you’ll come, too,” she suggested.

“Maybe only part of the year,” he mused. “We can’t let our businesses go to pot.”

“Spoilsport.”

He grinned.

While the two were dancing, oblivious to the other guests, a tall, dark man in a suit walked in and found himself a flute of champagne. He tasted it, nodding to other guests. Everyone was gathered around the dance floor of the ballroom in the Victorian mansion. He wandered to the fringes and caught his breath. There, on the dance floor, was Maddie Lane.

She was wearing a dress, a sheath of black slinky material that dipped in front to display just a hint of the lovely curve of her breasts and display her long elegant neck and rounded arms. Her pale blond hair shone like gold in the light from the chandeliers. She was wearing makeup, just enough to enhance what seemed to be a rather pretty face, and the pretty calves of her legs were displayed to their best advantage from the arch of her spiked high-heel shoes. He’d rarely seen her dressed up. Not that he’d been interested in her or anything.

But there she was, decked out like a Christmas tree, dancing with his best friend. John didn’t date anybody. Until now.

Cort Brannt felt irritation rise in him like bile. He scowled at the display they were making of themselves. Had they no modesty at all? And people were clapping like idiots.

He glared at Maddie. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She backed away from Cort, but she was dancing with John as if she really liked him. Her face was radiant. She was smiling. Cort had rarely seen her smile at all. Of course, usually he was yelling at her or making hurtful remarks. Not much incentive for smiles.

He sipped champagne. Someone spoke to him. He just nodded. He was intent on the dancing couple, focused and furious.

Suddenly he noticed that the flute was empty. He turned and went back to the hors d’oeuvres table and had them refill it. But he didn’t go back to the dance floor. Instead he found a fellow cattleman to talk to about the drought and selling off cattle.

A few minutes later he was aware of two people helping themselves to punch and cake.

“Oh, hi, Cort,” John greeted him with a smile. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Hadn’t planned to,” Cort said in a cool tone. “My dad had an emergency on the ranch, so I’m filling in. One of the officers of the cattlemen’s association is here.” He indicated the man with a nod of his head. “Dad wanted me to ask him about any pending legislation that might help us through the drought. We’ve heard rumors, but nothing substantial.”

“My dad was wondering the same.” John frowned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cort said, making sure that he enunciated as plainly as possible. He stood taller, although he still wasn’t as tall, or as big, as his friend. “Why do you ask?”

“Because that’s your second glass of champagne and you don’t drink,” John said flatly.

Cort held the flute up and looked at it. It was empty. “Where did that go?” he murmured.

“Just a guess, but maybe you drank it?” John replied.

Cort set the flute on the spotless white tablecloth and looked down at Maddie. “You’re keeping expensive company these days.”

She was shocked at the implication.

“Hold it right there,” John said, and his deep tone was menacing. “I invited her.”

“Got plans, have you?” Cort replied coldly.

“Why shouldn’t I?” came the droll reply. “Oh, by the way, Odalie says her Italian voice teacher is an idiot. He doesn’t know beans about how to sing, and he isn’t teaching her anything. So she thinks she may come home soon.”

Maddie felt her heart sink. Cort’s expression lightened. “You think she might?”

“It’s possible. You should lay off that stuff.”

Cort glanced at the flute. “I suppose so.”

“Hey, John, can I talk to you for a minute?” a man called to him. “I need a new combine!”

“I need a new sale,” John teased. He glanced at Maddie. “I won’t be a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. But she was clutching her small evening bag as if she was afraid that it might escape. She started looking around for someone, anyone, to talk to besides Cort Brannt.

While she was thinking about running, he slid his big hand into her small one and pulled her onto the dance floor. He didn’t even ask. He folded her into his arms and led her to the lazy, slow rhythm.

He smelled of spicy, rich cologne. He was much taller than she was, so her she couldn’t see his face. She felt his cheek against the big wave of blond hair at her temple and her body began to do odd things. She felt uneasy, nervous. She felt...safe, excited.

“Your hand is like ice,” he murmured as he danced with her around the room.

“They get cold all the time,” she lied.

He laughed deep in his throat. “Really.”

She wondered why he was doing this. Surely he should be pleased about Odalie’s imminent reappearance in his life. He hated Maddie. Why was he dancing with her?

“I’ve never raised my hand to a woman,” he said at her ear. “I never would, no matter how angry I was.”

She swallowed and stopped dancing. She didn’t want to talk about that.

He coaxed her eyes up. His were dark, narrow, intent. He was remembering what his father had told him, about the boy who tried to throw Maddie out a second-story window because of Odalie’s lies. He didn’t want to believe that Odalie had meant that to happen. Surely her female visitor had talked her into putting those nasty things about the boy and his family on the internet. But however it had happened, the thought of someone manhandling Maddie made him angry. It upset him.

He didn’t really understand why. He’d never thought of her in any romantic way. She was just Pierce Lane’s daughter. He’d known her since she was a child, watched her follow her dad around the ranch. She was always petting a calf or a dog, or carrying chickens around because she liked the sounds they made.

“Why are you watching me like that?” she faltered.

“You love animals, don’t you?” he asked, and there was an odd, soft glow about his dark eyes. “I remember you carrying Mom’s chickens around like cuddly toys when you’d come over to the ranch with your dad. You were very small then. I had to rescue you from one of the herding dogs. You tried to pet him, and he wasn’t a pet.”

“His name was Rowdy,” she recalled. “He was so pretty.”

“We never let anybody touch those dogs except the man who trains and uses them. They have to be focused. You didn’t know.” He smiled. “You were a cute little kid. Always asking questions, always curious about everything.”

She shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t dancing and they were drawing attention.

He looked around, cocked an eyebrow and moved her back around the room in his arms. “Sorry.”

She didn’t know what to think. She was tingling all over. She wanted him to hold her so close that she could feel every inch of his powerful frame against her. She wanted him to bend his head and kiss her so hard that her lips would sting. She wanted...something. Something more. She didn’t understand these new and unexpected longings. It was getting hard to breathe and her heartbeat was almost shaking her. She couldn’t bear it if he noticed.

He did notice. She was like melting ice in his arms. He felt her shiver when he drew her even closer, so that her soft, pert little breasts were hard against his chest through the thin suit jacket he was wearing. He liked the way she smelled, of wildflowers in the sun.

He drank in that scent. It made his head swim. His arm contracted. He was feeling sensations that he’d almost forgotten. Odalie didn’t like him close to her, so his longing for her had been stifled. But Maddie was soft and warm and receptive. Too receptive.

His mouth touched her ear. “You make me hungry,” he whispered roughly.

“Ex-excuse me?” she stammered.

“I want to lay you down on the carpet and kiss your breasts until my body stops hurting.”

She caught her breath and stopped dancing. She pushed back from him, her eyes blazing, her face red with embarrassment. She wanted to kick him in the shin, but that would cause more problems.

She turned away from him, almost shivering with the emotions he’d kindled in her, shocked at the things he’d said to her. She almost ran toward John, who was walking toward her, frowning.

“What is it?” he asked suddenly, putting his arm around her.

She hid her face against him.

He glared at Cort, who was approaching them with more conflicting emotions than he’d ever felt in his life.

“You need to go home,” John told Cort in a patient tone that was belied by his expression. “You’ve had too much to drink and you’re going to make a spectacle of yourself and us if you keep this up.”

“I want to dance with her,” Cort muttered stubbornly.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t want to dance with you.” John leaned closer. “I can pick you up over my shoulder and carry you out of here, and I will.”

“I’d like to see you try it,” Cort replied, and his eyes blazed with anger.

Another cattleman, seeing a confrontation building, came strolling over and deliberately got between the two men.

“Hey, Cort,” he said pleasantly, “I need to ask you about those new calves your dad’s going to put up at the fall production sale. Can I ride home with you and see them?”

Cort blinked. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“The barn doesn’t have lights?” the older man asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cort was torn. He knew the man. He was from up around the Frio river. He had a huge ranch, and Cort’s dad was hungry for new customers.

“The barn has lights. I guess we could...go look at the calves.” He was feeling very light-headed. He wasn’t used to alcohol. Not at all.

“I’ll drive you home,” the rancher said gently. “You can have one of your cowboys fetch your car, can’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Thanks,” John told the man.

He shrugged and smiled. “No problem.”

He indicated the door. Cort hesitated for just a minute. He looked back at Maddie with dark, stormy eyes, long enough that she dropped her own like hot bricks. He gave John a smug glance and followed the visiting cattleman out the door.

“Oh, boy,” John said to himself. “Now we get to the complications.”

“Complications?” Maddie was only half listening. Her eyes were on Cort’s long, elegant back. She couldn’t remember ever being so confused.

* * *

A
FTER
THE
PARTY
was over, John drove her to her front door and cut off the engine.

“What happened?” he asked her gently, because she was still visibly upset.

“Cort was out of line,” she murmured without lifting her eyes.

“Not surprising. He doesn’t drink. I can’t imagine what got him started.”

“I guess he’s missing your sister,” she replied with a sigh. She looked up at him. “She’s really coming home?”

“She says she is,” he told her. He made a face. “That’s Odalie. She always knows more than anybody else about any subject. My parents let her get away with being sassy because she was pretty and talented.” He laughed shortly. “My dad let me have it if I was ever rude or impolite or spoke out of turn. My brother had it even rougher.”

She cocked her head. “You never talk about Tanner.”

He grimaced. “I can’t. It’s a family thing. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Anyway, Dad pulled me up short if I didn’t toe the line at home.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I had to clean the horse stalls when I made him mad.”

“Odalie is beautiful,” Maddie conceded, but in a subdued tone.

“Only a very few people know what she did to you,” John said quietly. “It shamed the family. Odalie was only sorry she got caught. I think she finally realized how tragic the results could have been, though.”

“How so?”

“For one thing, she never spoke again to the girlfriend who put her up to it,” he said. “After she got out of school, she stopped posting on her social page and threw herself into studying music.”

“The girlfriend moved away, didn’t she, though?”

“She moved because threats were made. Legal ones,” John confided. “My dad sent his attorneys after her. He was pretty sure that Odalie didn’t know how to link internet sites and post simultaneously, which is what was done about you.” He touched her short hair gently. “Odalie is spoiled and snobbish and she thinks she’s the center of the universe. But she isn’t cruel.”

“Isn’t she?”

“Well, not anymore,” he added. “Not since the lawyers got involved. You weren’t the only girl she victimized. Several others came forward and talked to my dad when they heard about what happened to you in the library. He was absolutely dumbfounded. So was my mother.” He shook his head. “Odalie never got over what they said to her. She started making a real effort to consider the feelings of other people. Years too late, of course, and she’s still got that bad attitude.”

“It’s a shame she isn’t more like your mother,” Maddie said gently, and she smiled. “Mrs. Everett is a sweet woman.”

“Yes. Mom has an amazing voice and is not conceited. She was offered a career in opera but she turned it down. She liked singing the blues, she said. Now, she just plays and sings for us, and composes. There’s still the occasional journalist who shows up at the door when one of her songs is a big hit, like Desperado’s.”

“Do they still perform...I mean Desperado?” she qualified.

“Yes, but not so much. They’ve all got kids now. It makes it tough to go on the road, except during summer holidays.”