Nell grabbed the recipe for whoopie pies and set it on the table.
“That still doesn’t really explain why you wouldn’t tell your stepsisters to go fly a kite when they dump all this work on you.”
The microwave beeped. “If I don’t do whatever they want me to, they’ll tell Tom and he’ll threaten to kick me out. He’s got custody of Vinton, of course. So I would lose my family’s ranch and my brother, and I wouldn’t be able to keep the promise I made to my mom.” She shut the microwave door, holding the hamburger in her hand. “I don’t have a choice.”
Light had dawned in Ryder’s eyes. “You’re doing this for Vinton.”
“That’s right.”
“If it weren’t for Vinton, would you walk away from the ranch?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t have to make that decision.”
He nodded thoughtfully and set the last plate on the table.
She made patties out of the hamburger and didn’t press him for a bit. She knew there weren’t many people who would have blamed her for leaving. It didn’t take a lot of brainpower to know she wasn’t being treated well here. That she could be free and happy somewhere else. But her mother had always said happiness was a choice.
Nell had decided early on to choose happiness and to keep her word. Making the choice was easy. Living it had been a good deal harder.
She had the hamburgers in the skillet and had covered them when Ryder spoke. “I guess it’s my turn.”
“It is.”
“You know about my inheritance.”
“I know there is one.”
“Well, I’ll give you the background.”
She laughed. “Fair is fair, I suppose.”
“My dad’s not in the picture. I was groomed to take over my uncle’s business. Uncle Andrew, owner of Sweet Water Ranch. Billionaire. My mom was, and still is, a part of the business. She doesn’t work, per se, but business is often as much about who you know, who knows you, and that all happens on the social scene.”
He sighed and set a spoon down beside a plate. “Is this making sense to you?”
“Yeah,” she said, although she had no clue what he was saying.
“It’s always been the plan that I would be the head of the business, inherit his stock and money, and take ownership when he died. I already run it. They can’t take my job away, exactly. But all the assets that he had, all the money, everything. That was supposed to be mine.”
“And it’s not?”
“I have to ‘earn’ it by having this ball, choosing a wife at it, marrying her, and living in North Dakota for a year. It’s stupid and dumb, and I think my lawyers could fight it and win, but he left a boatload of money for legal fees for anyone who tried. It’s easier, and a lot cheaper, to play the game.”
“I see. So you don’t really want to get married?”
“No. And definitely not like that. But like you with the ranch, this business is what I was born to do. I don’t want to lose it.”
“Does the Sweet Water Ranch come with it?”
“It does. But I told Roxie she could have it if she wanted it, after I live there for a year.”
“Oh, I see.” That explained why Roxie was so involved. Roxie was New York sophistication personified, but Nell actually could see her staying in Sweet Water. She’d sit in the front row at church and head up the parade committee.
“What happens if you don’t do what the will says?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t pick a wife at the ball, don’t get married, or don’t live in North Dakota?”
“Oh.” He sighed. “I don’t get anything.”
“Anything?”
“Nope. I have some money of my own. My job. But I would no longer be the controlling owner, and I’m sure it wouldn’t go well.”
“I see. Do you have to marry the girl you choose at the ball?”
“Yep. There is no escape clause.”
“And that’s going to be Michelle.” Nell managed to keep her tone light as she flipped the hamburgers.
“That’s what I think you don’t understand.” He set the forks around.
“I’m listening.”
“As the head of my company, as a businessman running a multibillion-dollar company, I’m expected to entertain and to be entertained. I have charities and galas and premieres and dinners...all kinds of things that I need to attend. People want me to go, to donate, even to speak or to listen. It’s never-ending. You’re constantly making contacts that help your business, that get you contracts and shipping lanes and information—so important—that determine whether you make money or whether you blow it out of the water. Insider information. Government friends. Foreign associates. It’s all there, and it’s all important.”
His eyes willed her to understand. But then he dropped his gaze and fingered the silverware left in his hand. “Michelle was born into that world. She knows it, and she knows how to work it. She thrives in it.” He lifted his eyes to her, his mouth opened like he couldn’t think of how to form the words.
But he didn’t need to. She understood. She smiled and tilted her head to make it easier for him. “Someone who was born and spent their whole life living on a secluded ranch in North Dakota wouldn’t know how to run in those circles.”
His lip pressed back, but he nodded. “And she would hate it.”
She nodded. “I think it’s fair to say that.”
“Michelle knows the score. She wants the money, the prestige, and the social connections.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“Huh?”
“Maybe she does want those things. But Michelle is a woman, too.” Nell shifted, feeling older and wiser than she had a moment ago. “I can guarantee she wants you to love her.”
“So...that’s code for, even though I feel like marriage with Michelle would be a marriage of convenience, and that she would be well paid and getting exactly what she wants, you’re saying that’s not going to be enough?”
Nell shook her head. “Maybe right now she’ll be happy, but eventually she won’t. And neither will you.”
“I would have completely disagreed with you a month ago.” He pursed his lips. “But something has evolved in the last few weeks, and I’m not the same person who changed your tire. Not completely.”
“I think North Dakota does that to people.” She grinned. “The hamburgers are ready.”
“And the table is set.”
“If the washer is finished, we’re on a roll.”
“I’ll go get the boys.”
Chapter 14
Ryder walked out into the darkness. The sun had gone down, and he hadn’t even noticed. He’d needed to have a talk like that with Nell. Pure honesty to clear the air between them. He’d all but told her he’d marry her if she weren’t a redneck from North Dakota, and she’d all but said she wasn’t leaving her ranch because she’d promised to take care of her brother.
He’d thought she might be offended that he didn’t think she could handle everything that came with being his wife. He should have known Nell would take it with a smile. He had to admit he was a little hurt that she wasn’t telling him she’d happily leave everything she’d known and the promises she’d made and follow him anywhere, even to Manhattan. It hurt his ego and his pride. But common sense told him her integrity was part of what drew him to her.
Nothing they’d talked about tonight had made him feel less attracted to her. If only.
It had only made him question if there was a way, any way, he could choose Nell at the ball. He thought she might be open to the idea, if Michelle wasn’t in the way and if they could figure something out about Vinton.
He could put his lawyers on the Vinton issue. They could at least see if anything could be done.
The rest of it... He just didn’t know.
He found the boys in the lower part of the barn, brushing what could only be Babe—an older mare with gentle eyes and bony hips. He hoped
they weren’t trying to ride her bareback. Her backbone protruded up, making the idea of sitting on her back one that hurt his butt even though he hadn’t touched her. If he had to guess her age, one hundred years wouldn’t be accurate, but it would look right.
“How’d your ride go?” he asked Spencer.
“It was great. I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.”
Oh, boy. Roxie might have something to say about that. “Sounds fun.” He looked over at Vinton, seeing him for the first time as a boy without a mother. “What about you?”
“I get to ride Babe all the time. So I let Spence do all the riding.”
“Oh. Nice of you.” Obviously the kid was learning some things from his sister. He looked at the horse. “I’m glad to see you’re taking care of your horse, but your sister has supper ready. It’s time to go in.”
Their shoulders drooped, but they followed him inside, washing their hands at the sink. Nell had set the table and had the food on it. He and Nell each sat at one end, and the boys sat across from each other.
It felt homey. A far cry from the crystal chandeliers, elegant tables, and sophisticated dinner companions he was used to. There wasn’t anything wrong with elegance and class, but there was a comfortable hominess here that wove peace into his soul.
He looked down the table at Nell’s blond head and sweet smile as she spoke with Spencer and Vinton. He could see the love she had for her brother. And if she were frustrated with the way her sisters treated her, there was no sign of impatience or discontent in her eyes.
He already knew she’d sacrifice to keep her word. She wouldn’t be the kind of woman who’d constantly be looking for something or someone better. She wouldn’t complain that he neglected her or didn’t spend enough time or money on her. But she wouldn’t be happy in his life. He knew that for a certainty.
“I’ve never seen you ride horses, Uncle Ryder.” Spencer took a big bite of his hamburger. He chewed with his mouth closed, but Ryder was pretty sure Roxie would be horrified that her son had ketchup on both cheeks and had gotten almost half the hamburger in his mouth in that bite.
“I’ve been riding out with Preacher some. We’ll have to take you guys the next time we go. Normally we’re in the truck or on an ATV, though.” He’d barely been able to walk the one time he and Preacher had taken the horses for a morning.
“Maybe Nell could come, too. She hardly ever rides anymore, but Mom said when she and Babe were younger, they rode all over the place together.”
Nell gave Vinton a quelling look. “That was a lot of years ago. I haven’t ridden for a long time. Plus, when I’m at Sweet Water, I’m working. Not playing.”
“I think if you have time to play flashlight tag, you could probably find some time to go for a ride with us some evening next week,” Ryder said.
Nell lifted a brow. A whole conversation replayed between them as they looked at each other from the ends of the table.
He’d thought he knew a little something about women, but maybe Nell was right. Maybe Michelle would never be happy with what he was going to propose to her. But maybe he was reconsidering that whole deal.
Whoa.
He looked away first.
Was he? Was he considering choosing someone other than Michelle? Choosing...Nell?
The thought rocked him. Would she take him? He glanced back across at her, but she was chewing on her hamburger and nodding at some story the boys were telling her about horses and riding and ranches and how they were studying that in school now, too.
But she was made to be here. Eating at the rough table with her family on an isolated farm in the middle of nowhere, getting ready to bake a bunch of stuff for the little church down the road, going to be tired because she’d worked all day and ready to get up before the sun and do it all again tomorrow.
It didn’t seem like much of a life. Not like his. He was important. People needed him. They respected his ideas and opinions. He was responsible for moving goods across oceans and continents. He ran with the power players. He was a power player.
He put the rest of his hamburger in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, watching Nell. She caught him staring, but he didn’t look away.
“Want another?”
“I had two. That’s enough.”
She nodded.
“We fed when I was out the first time. Vinton said he knew what to do.”
Vinton glowed as she gave him a pleased smile.
“He does,” she said.
“Then everything out there should be taken care of.”
“That’s great.” She looked around. The boys had been done for a while. “You guys can stay as long as you like, but I need to get started on the whoopie pies.”
“We’re going to help,” Ryder said, surprising himself. He’d kind of thought of helping, but he hadn’t made that decision yet. He didn’t know squat about baking anything. He was sure Spencer didn’t either.
“You don’t have to,” Nell said immediately. Her emerald eyes met his. Something tugged in the area of his heart.
“I know.” Suddenly his mouth was dry and his throat was tight. He took a drink of his water, pulling his eyes away from Nell’s, and gave a little cough. “Let’s get the table cleared off and see what we can do to help, boys.”
He thought they might groan, but Vinton was eager. “This will be fun, Spence. Nell will even let us taste the batter if we help wash the dishes at the end.”
“Taste the batter?” Spencer wrinkled his nose.
“The batter is better than the cookies.”
Even Ryder’s brows drew down at that. Really? He glanced at Nell.
Her lips curved up at his expression. “You’ll see,” she said enigmatically.
“I might see, but I don’t think I’m going to taste.”
“Why not?” she asked, picking up the plates.
“Um, because it sounds gross.” Whoever heard of eating batter? “Won’t it make you sick?”
She stopped with the plates in her hand and tilted her head. “Really? You think I’d feed you something that would make you sick?”
He shrugged.
Her look became thoughtful. “Am I in your will?”
He snorted. “That’s not funny.”
“Are you going to put a stipulation in there? Like, I have to walk on my hands the entire way across North Dakota?”
He stood, grabbing glasses. “Make it challenging. You have to walk on your hands the whole way across Texas.”
“On my hands the whole way across North Dakota in the winter.”
“Okay. Yeah. That’s challenging.”
She looked at the boys. “I think the man just said I won.”
“No. I did not say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Vinton said with a smirk.
“Do you drink coffee?” Nell asked, opening the cupboard and taking down the coffee canister.
“Whoa. Whiplash from the subject change.” He set the glasses on the counter beside the plates.
“We need some for the whoopie pies.”
“Batter is sounding better with coffee in it.”
“I’m going to make myself a cup, I’ll make you some too.”
“And me!” Vinton said, throwing the rag he’d just used to wipe the table into the sink like he was throwing a basketball in a hoop.
“No coffee for children under the age of sixteen.” Nell turned the water on.
“Sure, I’ll take a cup.” He had a feeling he was going to need it.
And he did. It was almost two a.m. when they wrapped the last whoopie pie. The boys had long since fallen asleep. Vinton on a chair at the table, and Spencer sprawled out on the floor.
“I really appreciate your help.” Nell set the plastic wrap on the table and rubbed her eyes. “Obviously, I’d still be working if you hadn’t stayed.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Ryder yawned.
“I think this goes beyond the requirements of friendship,” Nell said, her voice a l
ittle scratchy.
Ryder studied her for a moment, waiting for her to look at him so she understood what he was saying. “I’m okay with that.”
Pulling both lips in, she bit them, her gaze going to the side. She shook her head. “We talked about this earlier. You’re right about me in the city. I wouldn’t fit in. Your friends would think I was weird, and I would hate the restrictions and having to conform to their narrow-minded way of how I should look and think and talk. I would embarrass you.”
“No!” The denial sprang to his lips from a chest that squeezed hard.
She put her hand up. “You know I’m right. You just said it.” Her voice, already low, lowered even more as she looked at Vinton, his head on his arm, his mouth open and snoring softly. “I couldn’t leave Vinton anyway.”
“You agreed to give me friendship.” He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted, but he didn’t want her telling him no.
“Yes.”
“Then be my friend until the ball. My very good friend.” He heard the desperation in his voice and could do nothing to hide it.
She nodded. “I’m not sure that’s something I choose. I think that’s something that’s happened. Something that had to happen when you work with me until 2 am just to help me out. You’re my very good friend.”
Chapter 15
Clay came to pick them up on Sunday afternoon. Nell had to admit she was disappointed. She’d been looking forward to seeing Ryder.
Vinton and she were ready with their things. She’d dug her rose up. It was sitting on their porch. She grabbed it, and they were out and in his truck before Clay could get out.
She debated not asking about Ryder, but thankfully, Vinton didn’t have any qualms. They weren’t even out of the driveway before he said, “Why didn’t Ryder pick us up?”
Clay’s eyes crinkled as he glanced in the rear-view mirror at Vinton. “He had some business stuff come up, and he needed to fly back to New York.” His teeth flashed. “Why? Don’t you like my driving?”
Cowboys Don't Believe in Fairy Tales Page 12