Duncan would have noticed it in a flash, she thought sadly.
Hard as it was to drag her thoughts away from the image of his handsome face, she knew for sure that she didn’t want to risk becoming once again the affectionate pet of a handsome man who didn’t really love her.
So, how to determine the true depths of Duncan’s feeling for her?
Maybe . . . by taking away the one inducement that could prompt him to marry a woman of whom he was only fond.
The ranch.
After reading the letter from her former boss this afternoon, she’d been mildly tempted to investigate the job opportunities available in San Antonio even before Marshall Thomason had spread his confidence-destroying poison. Although picking up a few short-term jobs helping Mel and Riva in Whiskey River had provided some welcome cash, entering into a contract arrangement with one of the big-city firms would be a far more lucrative and dependable source of extra income.
She’d be able to work remotely from the ranch . . . if she chose to stay there. And she’d be guaranteed to have the funds to continue paying Juan and keep the ranch solvent.
While in San Antonio, she could consult a lawyer and some bankers about the procedures and documents necessary to set up a purchase agreement that would enable Duncan to buy back the Scott acreage under repayment terms that wouldn’t put a financial strain on the Triple A.
The bluebonnet meadow, the old swimming hole, the camping spot on the ridgeline had been Triple A land for over 130 years. It ought to be Triple A land again.
It could still be hers too—if Duncan really loved her. But if he didn’t, he’d be able to achieve his fondest dream without taking on the burden of a wife he didn’t truly want.
She would do it, she decided.
Peering at the dashboard clock, she was pleased to note that it was still early enough for her to call Bob Hensen tonight when she got home. She’d tell him she’d been unexpectedly called to San Antonio and ask him to get some of his volunteers to take care of the cows and supervise the mowing on the Scott place while she was in the city. He’d been so helpful and accommodating when she’d talked with him earlier about organizing the volunteers; she was almost certain he would agree to pitch in. She could pack up some things and be ready to leave first thing in the morning.
What was she going to do about Duncan?
She didn’t think she dared see him face-to-face before she left. He’d know at once that something was wrong and be confused, upset, or angry when she refused to confide in him. She also wasn’t at all sure she could see him without doing something stupid, like bursting into tears.
She’d email him right before she left Whiskey River, she decided. He might still be angry that she’d gone without talking to him in person, but she’d be able to set out her plans for work and the sale calmly, without his agitating presence to distract her or break her resolve. She’d inform him she’d be staying in the city for a few days to arrange for job interviews and get the paperwork completed for the sale.
If all he really wanted was the land, he would have a clear path to get and hold it—without having to go through her. If he didn’t come after her . . .
An agonizing sense of desolation rippled through her at the possibility.
But she’d have her answer then, wouldn’t she?
A short time later, Harrison turned off the county road and drove down the graveled driveway to park in the shed. Snagging her briefcase, she walked quickly back to the house.
*
An hour later, she’d arranged with Bob to have the Scott Ranch tended and packed up the essentials she’d need to take with her to San Antonio. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she wandered restlessly around the house, too agitated to sit, an anguished sense of loss tearing at her as she ran her hand over Daddy’s favorite chair in the family room, gazed at the collection of family photos he’d mounted on the den wall along with pictures of his prize-winning cows and bulls, walked in to stare at the bed where he’d slept.
If Duncan didn’t want her, selling the land would mean giving up this house and her last link to Daddy. But Duncan would take care of the ranch Daddy had loved much more expertly than she could. And she would always have her memories of him, no matter where she lived.
Because she’d have to live somewhere else. Much as she’d come to love this land, if Duncan didn’t want her, she wouldn’t be able to bear staying in Whiskey River.
She walked back to the family room and heard her phone buzz. As she’d suspected, it was Duncan, texting to ask if she’d enjoyed her dinner with Mel. Indecision and longing coursing through her, she picked up the phone, hesitated, and put it down again.
If she texted back, he might call her. And she couldn’t talk to him tonight.
She’d say everything she needed to say in the email she would send him tomorrow.
*
As he went about his chores around the Triple A the next morning, Duncan tried to shake a vague sense of foreboding. He’d expected Harrison would call him when she got back from her dinner with Mel last night, maybe ask him to come over for some wine and a chat, if it wasn’t too late.
At the very least, he thought she would have answered his text.
He told himself he shouldn’t worry. She was a grown woman who’d shown herself competent to handle a host of different circumstances. It was highly unlikely that she was in trouble or in any danger.
Nonetheless, memories of running down that path to find her fighting off coyotes kept pricking at the back of his consciousness. By lunchtime, he was distracted enough to decide he’d text her and drive over early. Just to make sure she was okay.
Finishing up his chores in a hurry, he went back to the ranch house, showered, and changed into clean clothes. After making himself a sandwich and grabbing a bottle of water, he sat down at his desk to quickly check his email, as he usually did while he ate his lunch.
The message in his inbox from Harrison caught his eye immediately. Relieved, he clicked on it and began reading.
Duncan, sorry to send this via email rather than talking to you about it in person. I just found out that I need to go to San Antonio immediately to tend to some personal business. Don’t worry about the ranch; I called Bob Hensen and he’s going to send over some of his volunteers to take care of it while I’m gone.
While I’m there, I’m going to check out some business opportunities my former boss wrote me about. I want to continue paying Juan’s salary while he recovers, and there will be expenses coming up for the vet and the vaccines. I’ll also need to pay the other volunteers who help out with the branding and reimburse Frank Tyler for the mowing. If I can get some part-time contract work with one of the San Antonio firms, that would solve my immediate cash needs.
There’s one other thing I want to do while I’m in the city, something I’ve thought a lot about. Much as I’ve come to love the ranch, as I’ve gotten to know you better, I’ve seen over and over how special the place is to you. I think Daddy always intended, one day, to sell it back. Maybe that time ought to be now.
I’m going to consult with a banker and a legal expert to arrange a purchase agreement for you to buy back all the land that originally belonged to the Triple A. So you won’t really need me any longer to reclaim what is yours. I hope you’ll find the arrangements agreeable.
Hope all is going well on the Triple A.
Harrison
Surprised, confused, and more than a little angry, Duncan stared down at the cursor blinking on the screen.
What could have happened that would have required Harrison to leave so suddenly—and why hadn’t she had the courtesy to at least call and let him know about it, rather than informing him via an insultingly impersonal email?
He could understand her desire to find a part-time job to bolster her cash flow. She’d already confided that she was worried about meeting all her expenses. What rancher wasn’t? But why hadn’t she told him she’d been contacted by her former employer and was thinking o
f going back to work for him?
And what was this bit about selling him back the land? Even on very favorable terms, he doubted it was financially within his reach.
The possible explanation that came to him felt like a punch to gut. Setting aside the water bottle, he went to the liquor cabinet, took out the bottle of Scotch and poured himself a drink with hands that trembled.
It made no sense. Unless . . .
Unless she’d made up her mind. She’d said she didn’t want to keep him dangling. Maybe when the job offer from her old boss came in, she’d felt like she had to make a choice.
And it hadn’t been him.
This can’t be happening again.
Sheer, devastating pain made him stumble over his own feet as he walked back to the desk. A fiery rage followed it.
Looked like she’d turned out to be another city girl like Julie Ann after all.
But even as he entertained that bitter thought, the cascade of images pouring through his brain argued against it. Harrison by the stream below the bluebonnet meadow, telling him how she felt she belonged here. Her dogged persistence in trying to master all the chores she needed to properly run the ranch. Her affectionate care of her Daddy’s bulls. Her enjoyment of the new mamas and their calves as she talked to and stroked them. Her awe and delight as she looked down from the heights at the picnic spot to the stream curving around the point.
The way she’d kissed him, clung to him. And the total honesty with which she’d kept him informed of every step in her recovery from heartache.
Unless she were the best actress to hit Texas since Lilly Langtry visited the state, her love for the land and the bond she’d confessed she felt for him were sincere.
Everything she’d said, everything he’d seen of her, argued that she wouldn’t just walk away. Even in the unlikely event that she had decided to give up the ranch and return to the city, she would have done him the courtesy of telling him face-to-face. She wasn’t a coward; she wouldn’t creep away without a word.
So what was going on?
Activating the screen, Duncan read through the email again. And ended up frustrated and just as mystified as he’d been the first time he’d read it.
One thing, though, was blindingly clear. Something had happened in the time between when he’d last seen her two days ago and last night. But what?
He knew she’d planned to meet Mel and Riva yesterday.
He’d go to town, talk with them both, and see if he could figure out what had spooked her enough to send her running from Whiskey River.
Running from him.
*
Since the last person she was likely to have spent time with was Mel, with whom she was supposed to have had dinner at the Wheels & Barrels shop, Duncan drove first to the bookstore. Along the way, he came up with a plausible excuse that would allow him to talk with Mel without revealing what had happened if the bookstore owner wasn’t yet aware of anything.
The owner was in her usual chair, her book on her lap, when he entered, and greeted him with a smile. “Hey there, Duncan! How are you?”
“I’m fine, and you?”
“In the middle of a rousing good story, so I’m great. What can I do for you?”
“Can you order me in some more Red Books? With this crop of calves, I’m about out of room in the ones I have. I really ought to start using a digital program, but I’m still leery of carrying an iPad around when I’m dealing with unpredictable new mamas. I can always wipe the mud off and dry out a Red Book if it gets knocked into a puddle.”
Mel laughed. “Yes, I don’t imagine an electronic device would take too well to a swim in a pasture pond. Sure, how many would you like me to get?”
“Three ought to be enough for now.”
While he pulled out his credit card to pay for the sale, Mel said, “I appreciate you letting me order them for you. I know you could just go online and do it yourself.”
“We local business folks need to support each other. And it gives me an excuse to get into town and have a coffee at Riva’s. Speaking of refreshment, I bet you had a great dinner at Wheels & Barrels last night.”
Mel’s face brightened. “It was terrific! Harrison is so knowledgeable about wine, it was like taking a course just listening to her talk with the owner. And wow, some the wines she introduced me to! Good thing you’re bringing me some business since I’m tempted to pour all my profits into cabernet sauvignon.”
Duncan laughed. “Harrison is passionate about her red wine.”
“With all the great cheeses Francine paired with the wines, I stuffed myself like I’d been starving for days. I probably ought to go on two runs today to work off some of the calories.”
“Nice thing about a ranch. Always enough hard physical work that you don’t have to worry about what you eat.”
“I wish!” Mel said with a sigh. “Tell Harrison when you see her today or tomorrow that I can’t wait to do a dinner like that again. Maybe you can join us next time.”
“Sounds like a deal. Thanks, Mel. See you later.”
The owner gave him a cheery wave and bent her head back to her book.
Pausing on the sidewalk outside the shop, Duncan blew out a breath. Whatever had happened, Mel didn’t know anything about it. She was obviously unaware that Harrison had gone to San Antonio.
Would Riva provide any better insight? He sure hoped so. The mingled alarm and niggling worry he’d been trying to suppress just kept getting stronger. Something was wrong, and he wanted to find out what it was yesterday.
After crossing the square, Duncan walked into Riva’s, intending to ask the barista if she’d locate the owner for him. But one look at the alarm on Natalie’s face when she saw him approaching, and he knew he’d hit pay dirt.
“Okay, what happened?”
Quickly schooling her expression, Natalie said brightly, “What makes you think something happened?”
As fast as she’d composed herself, he’d seen enough not to be put off.
“That guilty expression. Or maybe not guilty—concerned. Did you know Harrison was planning to leave Whiskey River?”
The shock on her face was genuine. “No, I had no idea? She left? For where?”
At that moment, Riva walked out from the back of the store. “Hi, Duncan. Ready for one of your favorite espressos? Boy, when you see Harrison out at the ranch, be sure to pass along my thanks again. I can’t wait to see what happens once she’s had a chance to look at my tax papers. I hope she finds me money like she did for Mel!”
“Here’s hoping your luck will be equally good. Say, can I borrow Natalie for a minute?”
“Sure. I’ll cover the counter. You want an espresso, or something fancier?”
“An espresso would be great.”
“You got it. Have seat and I’ll bring it over.”
Duncan led the barista to a table as far away as possible from the ones occupied by the other patrons. He didn’t want to start any rumors flying about this.
“So, give,” he said as soon as they were both seated.
“Have you talked to her?”
“No. She just sent me an email this morning saying she needed to go into San Antonio to take care of something. That while she was there, she was going to follow up on some leads for accounting jobs her former boss had sent her. Did she say anything to you about this yesterday?”
“No, I hadn’t any idea she had plans to leave town.”
“But you do know something.”
Natalie blew out a breath. “She came in yesterday, cheerful as a mockingbird in full voice. Then . . . Marshall Thomason stopped by and talked to her. After he left, she’d gone as white as if she’d seen a ghost.”
“Any idea what he said to her?”
“Oh, yeah. He’d told her about that remark you made years ago, after you and Julie Ann broke up. That since you were willing to do anything to get your land back, you might as well charm Harrison into marrying you. After he left, she asked me if it was true, i
f you’d said that. Sorry, Duncan, but I’m not a good liar. So I told her it was.”
“Damn the interfering asshole!” Duncan spat out.
“I told her right away that I never thought you meant it. You hardly even knew her then, and it all happened years ago. But . . . but I could tell that it upset her. She said you were good friends, and I told her she shouldn’t let that comment make her leery about continuing your friendship.”
“Friendship, hell!” he spat out. “I’d just more or less asked her to marry me!”
As soon as the words left his lips, he stopped short. “Hell and damnation. I just almost asked her to marry me, and he tells her that.”
“So you are . . . more than just good friends.”
Exasperated, angry, uncertain what to do next, he just nodded.
“I thought as much. No wonder she was so upset. But honestly, Duncan what’s wrong with you? If the two of you were getting serious, you should have told her about that jerk comment right away! Someone was bound to repeat it to her eventually—probably someone like Marshall or a girl who’d tried to lasso you and failed. A remark like that would make any girl wonder.”
“Honestly, it was so long ago, and I hadn’t really meant it, that I really forgot about it. Brice reminded me recently, and I should have told her then. Except . . . we hadn’t discussed anything serious yet, and I didn’t want to spook her. But surely she wouldn’t put any stock in the word of a snake like Marshall.”
“I know she wouldn’t want to. Which is why you need to talk to her and fast.”
As Natalie was giving her advice, a line in Harrison’s email came back to him.
So you won’t really need me any longer to reclaim what is yours.
Apparently she could believe a snake like Marshall.
Anger flashed through him. How could she have doubted him on such flimsy evidence? Without even giving him a chance to explain?
But that spark of fury was succeeded by the memory of her face as she talked about being dumped by Parker, her nonchalant words at odds with the wounded stance of her body and the pain in her eyes.
The Rancher Page 17