Dirty Little Secret

by Jennifer Ryan

  “That sounds good, but I don’t know a damn thing about you, yet John and you expect me to trust you with this ranch and my sister. You want me to work my ass off every day and hand over half of everything this ranch makes because you share some DNA with him. You want things equal between us, but they’re not.”

  “No, they aren’t. You got damn near every day with my father! You grew up here, happy and loved, while he left me with a mother who is a thousand times worse than Lisa could ever hope to be. I barely got a phone call two or three times a year, never got a letter, a birthday party, or Christmas by the tree with hot chocolate and gifts. In the end, he left me half this place and”—she held up the envelope—“made me the one thing I spent my whole life trying to avoid becoming after being raised by my mother.”

  Saying it, knowing it, made her heart hurt even more. “You’ve got reason to be pissed, but believe me, he didn’t do half as much to you as he’s done to me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Roxy scanned the boxes and suitcases spread over her room and sighed. It had taken three days to sort, discard, donate, and pack her remaining belongings, change her mailing address at the post office, add her name to all the Wild Rose accounts at the bank, and buy a car over the phone in Whitefall. Why not? She had the money. This way she could leave her truck here for the five days a month she was allowed to come home, check on her beloved horses and sisters and deal with the business she didn’t want to think about, let alone own.

  Her sisters surprised her this morning by staying home from their respective jobs and school to help her finish packing.

  “Spill it. What’s bothering you? The fight you had with Noah before you left?” Sonya asked.

  She could tell her sisters anything, so she shared her thoughts, however mixed-up they were at the moment. “He’s not what I expected. His love for Annabelle comes through so clear. The grief I saw in him over John’s death . . .” She didn’t know how to explain that kind of depth of feeling.

  Sonya, ever the skeptic, asked, “You mean he isn’t the spoiled ‘everything should be mine because I’m John’s son’ kind of guy?”

  “Noah is protective of his sister, his ranch, everything he cares about. I don’t know if he’ll ever get past what John did and work with me without all the hostility.”

  “Admit it—you want him to like you,” Juliana coaxed.

  “I don’t want him to hate me.”

  “Because you think he’s hot.” Juliana had a one-track mind sometimes.

  “My feelings are all mixed-up. Yes, I’m attracted to him.” The man was gorgeous. That dark, thick hair. The smile that mostly came out only for his sister. The intensity in his eyes when he looked at her. His loyalty and devotion to his sister. “I even like him. But I resent the fact John chose him. We have to work together, but I’d like us to be friends.”

  “You want to be more than friends.” Juliana didn’t know when to shut up. Even when she was right.

  “I have a hard time with that part of relationships.”

  “We all do,” Sonya admitted. She smiled and added, “Well, except for Juliana.”

  “Can I help it if I like to have fun and you guys drag your baggage around like some apology you owe the world because some asshole fucked our mothers for a price? The men, our mothers, they got what they wanted, so why are we carrying around the guilt of that bargain when neither our mothers nor those men feel any remorse?”

  None of them had an answer. They all dealt with their backgrounds and upbringing in their own way. Juliana simply ignored the stares, the whispers, and outright speculation and advances from men and lived her life with a carefree attitude, doing as she pleased. One of these days, her tendencies toward partying and playing like her mother were going to get her into trouble. Of all of them, Juliana was the most likely to end up like their mothers, or worse, dead from too much drinking, drugging, and living on the wild side.

  Roxy feared Juliana counted too much on all of them to set her straight when she let her wild ways get away from her. Now, with Roxy moving to Speckled Horse Ranch, Sonya mired in work at the financial firm, and Adria finishing her degree at the university, Roxy feared Juliana would stumble and fall without them there every moment, ready to catch her.

  “The point is, it’s going to be hard enough dealing with each other about the business and Annabelle. Mix in the charge that pulls us together when we’re close and it’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “Maybe not.” Adria cocked her head to the side, the way she did when she turned serious. “Give it a chance. In such close quarters, either your anger or lust will explode. I’m thinking he might try to wring your neck, then change his mind and use his hands for something entirely different.” Adria wiggled her eyebrows.

  Roxy hit her sister in the face with a sweater.

  They all laughed and it felt good to let loose with her sisters. But one thing still weighed on her heart. Roxy sucked in a big breath and let the words fall. “John owned the Wild Rose Ranch. He left it to me.”

  Silence filled her small bedroom more than all four of them in there together. The tension grew so thick, she felt like a piece of fruit trapped in a Jell-O mold.

  “He what?” Sonya asked.

  “He left me . . .”

  “I heard what you said,” Sonya snapped. “All this time, you never told us,” she accused.

  “I just found out.” Roxy tried to make them understand what her inheritance meant. For all of them. “The point is, I think we should all benefit from that place. Adria and Juliana, gather up all your bills. Credit cards. School loans. Everything. Give them to Sonya.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re my new financial advisor. I’ll pay off yours, Juliana’s, and Adria’s debts. Next semester, I’ll pay for their classes. I’ll also pay you a monthly salary to oversee whatever investments you’d like to suggest or I make on my own. I’d also like you to take a look at the Wild Rose books, make sure everything is on the up-and-up.”

  “You’re serious?” Sonya asked.

  “Your talent with numbers is being wasted at that firm. I know you’ve worked your ass off to get where you are, but they’re dragging their heels in promoting you.”

  Sonya nodded with agreement and a self-deprecating smile.

  “If I can’t use the money from that place to help my sisters, what good is it?”

  “This place, our home, the horses,” Sonya pointed out, “the four of us together made a difference. Who knows what would have happened to us if we hadn’t ended up here, with Roxy, together.”

  Roxy opened her arms. “Group hug.” Her sisters practically tackled her, but Roxy didn’t care. She held on tight, already missing them. They’d never been apart more than a day or two. Now she wouldn’t be back for another month.

  Sonya tugged a lock of her hair. “Go feed the horses. We’ll finish up in here. Then we’ll go out for dinner.”

  Adria pointed at her. “Your treat.”

  Roxy loved her sisters for making this transition easier on her. She’d miss them over the next days and weeks as she settled into her father’s ranch and Noah’s and Annabelle’s lives. Not that they really wanted her there. Like her, they didn’t have a choice.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Roxy left her room and headed for the barn. The letter with her name on it sat on the kitchen table. The damn thing mocked her. She refused to open her father’s letter and see what he wanted to tell her after his death that he couldn’t find the time to say to her face. Her sisters had all coaxed her to read it, but she’d held firm.

  Not now.

  Not yet.

  She closed the front door and stood at the covered porch railing, the sun beating down on her, and looked at the cactus and plants growing in the yard. Nothing like the gorgeous colorful gardens surrounding the house in Whitefall.

  She stared across the pastures to the grand white mansion, red and pink wild roses circling the sprawling house, defiant in the blazing he
at. She couldn’t see it, but out front was the tall arching sign that read, Wild Rose Ranch.

  The brothel represented everything bad in her life.

  Not exactly the stock of fillies she kept in her stables. No, the mansion held some of the most beautiful high-priced prostitutes in the state.

  How could John do this to her?

  Stepping off the porch, she walked along the gravel path to the back.

  Candy preferred the extravagant big house.

  Roxy preferred her privacy and the solitude of the three-bedroom, two-bath cottage. Though a pasture separated the two structures, it seemed the brothel would always cast a shadow over her life.

  But she wouldn’t let it consume her life. She pulled her ringing phone from her pocket. Please tell me I still have a job.

  “Hello, Greg.”

  “Roxy, I got your email. Sorry to hear about your dad.”

  She leaned against the barn wall. “Thanks. I know this is short notice and we’re really busy . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re one of my best designers. I understand your predicament, and I’ve spoken to the big boss. Your solution will work out great for you and us. We lost Nancy six months ago when she went on maternity leave. I can’t believe we never thought to make this a telecommuting position. As you pointed out, all you need is email and your computer.”

  “I won’t forget you stuck your neck out for me.”

  “Thanks, but this is a good decision for you and the company.”

  Roxy’s stomach fluttered with joy. “Well, thank you anyway.”

  “You’re welcome. We’ll talk soon.” They ended with goodbyes and her promise to get in touch once she settled in at the ranch.

  Roxy danced a jig to the barn door, kicking up dust. For Annabelle, she’d change her life and move to Montana, but that didn’t mean she had to give up everything. She’d worked hard to earn her spot and reputation at the company. She might have money now, but she still needed something that was hers. Something that gave her a sense of accomplishment and achievement.

  She slid the door open and stepped into the slightly cooler interior. Vinny was the first to stick his big head over his stall door and nicker at her, blowing out his nostrils into her hair when she came near.

  “Hello, baby. How’s my big man?” Vinny rubbed his fuzzy nose against her cheek and nibbled at her hair.

  Her mind went to thoughts of Noah. It did often these last few days.

  What would he do if he found out she owned the Wild Rose Ranch?

  She tried not to let the fear overwhelm her and set thoughts like those aside. Much easier to think about the six-foot cowboy with the dark hair and amazing whiskey-brown eyes. The way he looked in his black suit, charcoal-gray tie, and polished cowboy boots. The width of his shoulders and the way his crisp shirt spread across his wide chest. She’d wanted to . . .

  “I know that look,” her mother said from the barn door. The sun highlighted her golden hair, hanging down to cover her full breasts in waves of curls. The hot pink tank top barely covered her nipples. If she leaned forward, she’d spill right out of it. The Daisy Duke shorts barely covered anything. Her long golden legs went on for days.

  Who wears four-inch spike heels to a horse barn? Her mother.

  Despite the tiny lines at the corner of her eyes and around her lips, she still looked fifteen years younger than her forty-six years with the body of a teenager and the me, me, me attitude to match. Overdone pink eye shadow, a thick layer of black mascara, and pink lip gloss. If her mother kissed her with that slick goop, she’d cringe.

  Not that her mother had ever been that affectionate with her.

  How did men put up with that stuff?

  Her mother walked to join her, hips swinging, boobs bouncing, lace peeking out of the tank top. Yep. Men are stupid. They’d kiss that gloss-slicked mouth to get Candy naked and under them. Or on top of them. On a bed, or on the floor. Standing up, or lying down.

  This was starting to sound like some pornographic Dr. Seuss book.

  “What are you doing here?” Resentment laced her words. Her mother always intruded at the worst moments.

  “You were thinking about a man.”

  Right up until you walked in and reminded me he’ll find out about you and assume the worst of me.

  It happened too many times to count. The disappointment and hurt still stung, despite her thick coat of armor. Roxy had a feeling with Noah there’d be no protection. He’d somehow strip her of all her shields and leave her vulnerable because he was John’s favorite. And if she hadn’t been good enough for John, she wouldn’t be good enough for Noah.

  “What do you want?”

  “Oh, we aren’t talking about him. Must be a real good guy,” she said, fishing for information. Candy twined a lock of hair around her finger. Flirting and seduction were second nature even when no one was around to play with her. “I stopped by the house. John left you the bulk of his estate.”

  Leave it to Candy to walk right into her place, plop herself down, and start reading documents that didn’t belong to her.

  “What else did you go through?” She feared this visit was because her mother found out she owned the brothel. Please, no. The last thing she needed was a hooker who thought she had power. Candy would make everyone at the Wild Rose Ranch miserable and Roxy irate because she’d have to clean up Candy’s mess.

  “Why didn’t you open the letter from John?”

  “None of your business.”

  “He’s your father.” Candy’s voice dropped like she cared. She didn’t.

  Roxy learned a long time ago never to believe anything Candy said or did, especially if it appeared selfless. Candy didn’t know the meaning of the word, or give in to sentimentality.

  “He made sure to get the DNA test to prove it.”

  Candy shrugged, her head tipping to the side, but not an ounce of regret or remorse crossed her lovely face that her father could have been one of half a dozen given the week she was conceived. “I never pretended or lied. He knew exactly who and what I am when he slept with me.”

  “Always make them pay up front.” She recited one of her mother’s many lessons on dealing with men.

  “Damn right, sweetie.”

  “Why did John stop coming around?”

  “Maybe the man on your mind is that Noah who got thirty percent of your inheritance.”

  It didn’t surprise her that her mother changed the subject to one of her favorites—men. “Noah is John’s son. Of course, he got a share. The question is why he left me anything.”

  “You’re his one and only daughter.”

  “Annabelle is his daughter. Noah, his son. I’m the one he threw away.”

  “Not true. He’s supported you since you were born.”

  “Yep. Sent me money every month. Sent you money every month until I turned eighteen. A pretty good deal for you, since you have no obligation to John and can have a new man every hour on the hour.”

  Candy’s eyes lit with amusement along with the playful smile. “And I do. When it suits me.”

  Truer words were never spoken.

  The ache in Roxy’s heart throbbed and pulsed. Her throat went tight and she choked back the tears she hated to admit came so easily when she allowed herself to wish her mother was different, that her childhood had been different. Didn’t do her a damn bit of good and only made her angry.

  In a rare show of concern, her mother said, her voice soft, “But that’s not you. Tell me about Noah.”

  “Nothing to tell.”

  Candy’s smile died because Roxy wouldn’t play her game. “You were never a good liar.”

  “That’s your forte.” Her mother didn’t deny it. “How about we try the truth? John came to see me when I was nine, you two fought, and he never came back and stayed like he did before that day. What happened?”

  “Let it go.”

  “Not this time. I want the truth.”

  “He left you a fortune.
You want to blame me for something, blame me for that,” Candy defended herself. “I did that for you. You’ll never have to work a day in your life. Not the way I did.”

  “Bullshit. As inexplicable as it is, you love what you do. It’s like some kind of high when men come on to you, pay you top dollar for your favors.”

  “Favors. Aren’t you the old-fashioned one. They pay to fuck me, darlin’. Plain and simple. For that short time, they want me, love me even. I’m beautiful and sexy and wild. Their dream come true. My father thought I’d be nothing. He called me stupid and ugly and a hell of a lot worse. He tried to beat it into me. But look what I’ve accomplished. I make more money in a year than he made his whole miserable life.”

  Roxy knew very little about her mother’s family. It surprised her Candy mentioned them at all. When she was young, Candy made it clear they only had each other. Not a comforting thought when her mother downed another shot and did another line and sank further into oblivion, forgetting she even had a daughter for days on end.

  “You make money on your back.”

  “And on my knees. On all fours. Who cares how I make it? I’ll never have to scrape by on food stamps and public assistance checks. That’s the life he doomed my mother to, and I picked myself up at sixteen and left them behind and all their misery. We may have had it rough in the beginning, you and me, but you never went without a meal. You had the best clothes. You went to a good school and even graduated college.”

  Just like Candy to gloss over the bad and misappropriate the good times to suit her version of events. “You left out the years before we came to the Ranch, when you spent the money John sent on drugs instead of food. We lived in our car, cheap motel rooms, apartments that should have been condemned. Every day I wondered where we’d end up next. My belly hurt from hunger. My clothes were never clean, and neither was I.” Kids at school could be so cruel about such things.

  Candy made her life hell.

  But then, when she was ten, John bought the Wild Rose Ranch, Big Mama found her mother and offered her a job, and Roxy had a safe place all her own, nice clothes, a stocked fridge and bursting cupboards. She went to school every day. She didn’t have to stay home and take care of her drugged-out mother. She went to college.