That One Night

by Brenda Novak

  Delaney was beginning to think she’d never understand him. One minute he ignored her, the next he was angry, the next he actually seemed to like her. But she didn’t have much time to ponder their unusual relationship, because they’d reached the gate and the passengers were already filing into the arrivals lounge.

  Delaney curled her fingers more tightly through Conner’s and waited. She’d survive the next two days somehow, she told herself, just as Conner waved at a tall dark-haired woman dressed in a stylish black pantsuit that highlighted her still-trim figure. At the same time, he raised their clasped hands and kissed Delaney’s knuckles, and the action seemed so spontaneous, Delaney almost believed it had come naturally to him.

  With that type of acting, even his mother would be convinced.

  “There you are,” the woman said as soon as they’d threaded their way through the crowd and managed to get close enough to take a good look at each other. “This must be Delaney.”

  Delaney smiled, but her smile shook, and she’d never felt more vulnerable than she did during the next few seconds when Conner’s mother stared into her face, then slowly returned her smile.

  “She’s beautiful, Con.” Tears filled her eyes and she pulled Delaney into her arms. “I’m so happy he’s found you,” she whispered, and Delaney didn’t know what to say. She blinked rapidly to avoid tears of her own and clung to this stranger she immediately knew she’d rather die than disappoint.

  “Delaney, this is Vivian,” Conner said.

  Vivian relaxed her hug a little, looked over at her son, then back at Delaney. “Would you rather call me something other than Vivian?”

  Delaney was still fighting back tears and had a difficult time speaking. “I’m happy to call you anything you like.”

  Vivian smiled and kissed Delaney’s temple. “Then, call me Mom, dear.”

  Oh God! Delaney felt as though she were wearing a scarlet letter L on her chest for liar, or a U for unworthy. But after Conner kissed his mother’s cheek and picked up her carry-on, he slung an arm around Delaney and she thought she heard him murmur, “It’s okay.”

  Vivian kept one hand on her arm as though they’d known each other for years. “I want to take you both out to breakfast,” she said. “Where should we go?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CONNER WAS SO NERVOUS he could hardly breathe. It had been an awkward twenty-four hours with his mother in town, and now he’d reached the point of no return. Already. He was going to be married today to a woman who didn’t want to marry him, a woman whom—if he were being completely honest—he had yet to forgive. But that wasn’t all. Roy had just picked up his grandfather and uncles from the airport and they were waiting in the office to talk to him about his offer on the ranch. The next fifteen minutes would tell whether his dream had any chance.

  Though he’d just gotten dressed, Conner unraveled the bow tie on his tux so it hung limply around his neck and unfastened the top button of his white pleated shirt as he made his way down the hall. He’d spent so many hours in the office that he now thought of it as his own domain and not his grandfather’s, but it wasn’t a sanctuary for him today.

  Wiping a hand across his forehead as though it were ninety degrees in the house instead of a cool seventy, he opened the door and strode across the carpet to greet his grandfather and uncles. His mother wasn’t part of this little gathering. Along with Dwight’s wife and four children, Jonathan’s son and Stephen’s wife, she was in the south wing, getting ready for the wedding, which was scheduled to start in less than an hour.

  Less than an hour…

  “Grandfather,” he said.

  “Conner.” His grandfather nodded and shook his hand, and Conner noticed that the firmness of his grip hadn’t changed. Never a large man to begin with, he’d lost weight and looked even smaller since the surgery. But his presence still filled the whole room and commanded respect.

  “In spite of everything, you’re looking fit,” Conner told him. “You must be bouncing right back.”

  “Fit as a man can look after open-heart surgery at eighty-four,” he said with a smile.

  The way he greased his hair straight off his forehead was hardly the fashion of the day, but it suited him almost as much as his light blue polyester suit. His cowboy boots had been polished, Conner noticed, but they were the same pair he wore day in and day out, whether he was traveling, meeting with business associates or heading out to the vineyards. There wasn’t a pretentious bone in his body. A glance at his uncles told Conner they were wearing Armani suits and Italian leather, and carrying themselves as though they were mighty proud of the fact.

  “Thanks for coming,” Conner told his grandfather. “I know it’s very soon after the surgery, and I know you’re busy.”

  His grandfather sat, a little more gingerly than usual, in the Chippendale chair by the window. “Never too busy to come to my grandson’s wedding. I’m looking forward to meeting the bride.”

  “I appreciate that,” Conner said, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the kind of familiar closeness that Delaney and his mother already seemed to share. Forcing himself to turn and greet his uncles, he smiled. Stephen and Dwight were lounging on the leather couch, their coats unbuttoned, while Jonathan’s huge bulk filled an upholstered chair almost the size of a love seat. “Stephen, Jonathan, Dwight. Good of you to come.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Stephen said.

  Conner tipped his head to acknowledge Stephen’s mocking smile. “I knew I could rely on that.”

  “So what’s going on? What’s this all about?” Dwight asked, cutting to the chase by tossing the offer Conner had faxed to the Napa house onto the coffee table.

  “Exactly what it looks like,” Conner said.

  Jonathan gave up his more comfortable position to lean forward. In the three months since Conner had seen him, he’d lost some hair and gained even more weight. “What it looks like is an offer. But I don’t understand why you’ve signed it as buyer.”

  “What’s confusing about that? I want to purchase the ranch.”

  Dwight rubbed his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “Problem is, Con, you don’t have any money.”

  “That’s why I’m asking for terms. I’ve seen the appraisal. You padded the price by nearly two-hundred thousand dollars to allow room to negotiate if an offer came in and, in this market, it’s going to take a few concessions to get that kind of asking price. Carrying the loan is the concession I need.”

  “Sounds as though you’ve actually learned something about real estate since you’ve been here,” Stephen said. “But I’m afraid you don’t have much of a track record in business. Three months on this place doesn’t make you a rancher. And even if we carry the paper, you don’t have the money to keep the ranch functioning.”

  “I’ll manage,” Conner said.

  “How?”

  “That’s up to me.”

  “And in five years?”

  “Just like it says in the offer, I’ll obtain my own financing and cash you out.”

  Jonathan rested his beefy elbows on his knees. “You’re not going to be able to obtain financing unless you’re working in the black, Conner. No bank’s going to lend you money on a losing venture.”

  “I realize that. The Running Y will be in the black by then.”

  “And what guarantee do we have? Your word?” Jonathan looked at his brothers and chuckled.

  Conner’s grandfather didn’t laugh with them. He seemed to be listening, taking it all in.

  “If we sold the ranch to you, we’d just end up having to repossess it when you can’t make a go of it,” Dwight said. “And repossessions can take a long time and get messy. I really don’t want to be involved in all that.’

  “I understand,” Conner said. “Why don’t we get around that by including an agreement along with the purchase contract that says I’ll simply sign the place over to you if I don’t meet my deadline.” He propped his hands on his hips, hoping he looked a lot
more confident than he felt. “Because it won’t come to that. I’m going to make the deadline.”

  Stephen laughed and began tapping his toe. “I’m afraid chances are much better that you won’t,” he said. “You’re going to need a lot of money to run this place and—”

  “I agree,” Dwight cut in. “Essentially, you’re asking us not to sell at all. You’re asking us to give you a guaranteed five years before we liquidate, that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry, Con. There’s no way to make it work.” Jonathan made a great show of checking his watch. “Now we’d better get moving. Wouldn’t want to make you late for your own wedding.”

  Conner glanced at his watch and cringed at the passing minutes, but he wasn’t about to let his uncles best him quite so easily. “I’m willing to guarantee payment in full after five years against my inheritance, provided I’m still getting one,” he said, looking to his grandfather for confirmation.

  His grandfather nodded. “You came here and tried to make a go of this place like I asked. It was our decision to sell and had nothing to do with you. I don’t see any reason you wouldn’t have an equal share with your uncles and your mother.”

  A muscle jumped in Stephen’s jaw, and Conner knew his grandfather had just hit a tender spot. His uncles didn’t like the fact that as a grandchild, and an adopted one at that, he was on an equal footing with them.

  “If you’ll sell me the ranch, I’ll walk away from my inheritance entirely,” Conner said, facing his uncles. “If I can’t pay you off in five years as promised, I’ll be written out of the will. I’ll make my own way, you’ll sell the ranch to someone else, and that will be the end of it.”

  Stephen and his brothers had gambled on his failure when they sent him to Dundee. Now Conner was calling their bet and raising the stakes by several million. If Conner won, he’d have his portion of the Armstrong estate along with the ranch. And he would’ve done something for his grandfather they couldn’t do. If he lost, he’d have nothing.

  Stephen seemed to grasp the “nothing” part of that concept more quickly than his brothers. “You really want to take that kind of risk, Con?”

  Conner nodded.

  “Fine. I agree.”

  Dwight’s gaze narrowed at Conner for a second, but then he agreed, too. “Sure, I’m willing to give you enough rope to hang yourself.”

  It was Jonathan’s turn. Conner held his breath as he looked to the man who’d most often tortured him as a child. He seemed a little more hesitant than the others. “Jonathan?” Conner prompted. “You’re so certain I won’t make good. Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?”

  Malice entered his eyes, the old malice Conner recognized so well, but the challenge worked. “Why not? You’ll never do it.”

  Conner turned and waited for his grandfather’s response, but, as usual, Clive took his time. “All four of you want to do this?” he eventually asked. “Because after we leave this room, there’ll be no going back.”

  “Yeah…it’s just a matter of time. We’ll get it back, anyway,” Stephen said, and the uncles exchanged nods and glances to confirm it.

  “Conner? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he said, even though he wasn’t. Everything he stood to gain depended solely on him. But strangely enough, he liked it that way. He felt freer than he’d ever felt in his life—free to succeed or fail on his own, to prove his worth, to have some worth.

  The old man rubbed his chin, and Conner thought he detected a smile. But when Clive spoke, his voice remained matter-of-fact. “Hand me that offer so I can sign it.”

  Conner handed him the offer Jonathan had tossed onto the coffee table, and watched, his heart in his throat, as his grandfather scribbled his name on the acceptance line.

  “I’ll have the rest of the agreement drawn up right away,” Stephen said.

  Conner nodded, and his uncles left to find their families so they could head into town to the chapel. But his grandfather lagged behind. He circled the room, gazing at the wooden paneling, western prints and worn but sturdy furnishings.

  “You miss the ranch, don’t you?” Conner asked.

  His grandfather’s lips curved into a nostalgic smile. “It reminds me of your grandma. Besides, the harder you have to fight for something, the more it means to you. You’ll find that out over the next five years, Con.”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand already.” Conner put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorway, finally catching on to something he hadn’t grasped until that moment. “I was right. Sending me here was a setup, wasn’t it. Only, not for the reasons I thought. This is what you wanted for me.”

  The old man smiled, his eyes twinkling.

  “How’d you know I’d rise to the occasion?” Conner asked.

  “I didn’t. I took a chance on something I love—someone I love. You and your mother have always been special to me.” He moved toward the exit and clapped a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get out of here before your uncles figure out they just bet against the wrong man.”

  A warmth filled Conner, a warmth that started from somewhere deep inside him. So much of his future remained uncertain. He wasn’t sure his uncles had bet against the wrong man. But he knew he was back on the right path. At last.

  Shoving off from the wall, he buttoned his shirt and fastened his tie as he said, “You knew Stephen and the others would agree, didn’t you.”

  “I wasn’t too worried about it.” He winked. “I still had ultimate control of this ranch, and I would’ve sold it to you with or without their approval. But this is better. They won’t have anyone to blame but themselves, and maybe they’ll realize what fools they’ve been. At least, I hope they will.” He sighed heavily. “It’s hard to believe I could have three sons who think so differently from the way I do.”

  Conner chuckled. “Maybe blood isn’t everything.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? And yet, I can’t give up on them, either.” His grandfather shook his head, then took hold of Conner’s hand and gazed down at the ring his mother had given him. “You get this from Vivian?”

  Conner nodded, and his grandfather smiled. “Used to be mine,” he said. “Back when I wore such things. Your grandma bought it for me.”

  “Would you like it back?” Conner asked.

  “No, I’d rather you kept it,” he said. “She loved you as much as I always have.”

  * * *

  CONNER’S SENSE OF RIGHTNESS lasted for a whole fifteen minutes or so, then fell apart as soon as he arrived at the church. Already filled to overflowing, the small New England-style chapel held many faces he recognized, and many he did not. Ralph Lawson hovered near the door at the back, looking a bit lost without Millie, who was probably in some antechamber with Rebecca and Delaney and his mother. The old folks he’d met at the Lawson house a few weeks ago—Ruby, Lula and Vern—occupied the second row on the right, along with a few other seniors, all dressed to the nines and wearing corsages or boutonnieres. And Katie, the young woman he’d seen at the salon the day he’d realized Delaney lived in Dundee, smiled widely when he caught her eye, then nudged the woman sitting next to her.

  On the left sat his grandfather and uncles, along with Grady, Ben and Isaiah from the ranch, and Josh and Mike Hill. Dottie had returned from Salt Lake just in time for the wedding. Carrying a stack of photographs of the new baby, which she showed to anyone willing to look, she clucked over his brothers’ children, who took up the bench beside her. Only Roy wasn’t in the congregation. Conner had made Roy stand up with him. And a sidelong glance told him his foreman wasn’t particularly happy about it.

  “How much longer before we get this show on the road?” he growled, stretching his neck and yanking on his tie.

  Conner swallowed a chuckle. “Should be any minute now.”

  “And to think I was betting you’d leave town inside of three months,” Roy replied. “Good thing I didn’t put any money on it.”

  “Y
ou said yourself this ranch is the perfect place to raise a child,” Conner reminded him. “I’m taking your advice.”

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known it would land me in a damn monkey suit.”

  The Reverend Parker, a man Conner had just met, was standing on Conner’s other side.

  He gave Roy a reproachful look, and Roy quickly apologized. “Sorry for the language, Rev.”

  “All the more reason to attend services,” he responded.

  Roy stretched his neck again and looked longingly at the door, mumbling something about changing his ways. “That’s probably the right of it, Rev.”

  “Then, we’ll see you on Sunday, will we not?”

  “I’ll be here,” Roy said. He sent Conner an accusing glare, and Conner couldn’t help laughing.

  “That goes for you, too, Mr. Armstrong,” the reverend said, and Conner felt the full weight of the man’s will pushing him toward God. But he didn’t have time to respond or even feel guilty about his fifteen-year lapse in church attendance. The organ burst into a crescendo behind him, Rebecca hurried forward to take her place on the opposite side of the altar, and Millie and his mother found their seats. Delaney finally appeared at the back of the chapel, pale and almost ethereal in a simple white dress with long sleeves, a straight narrow skirt and no train.

  She looked beautiful as she gazed up the aisle. Dignified. Sophisticated. Yet fragile. She nearly stole Conner’s breath as their eyes met, but he couldn’t help wondering if she was as terrified as he was.

  Clasping his hands behind his back, he put an encouraging smile on his face and told himself that everything was going to be fine. So what if marrying and starting a family was completely contrary to anything he’d imagined himself doing in the next five years? So what if he’d just gambled his entire inheritance on a losing ranch? He loved that ranch. And…and he hoped he could grow to love this woman. From the crowded pews, it certainly looked as though he’d be in good company if he did. Even the mayor had come for her wedding. Conner had heard his grandfather greet Mayor Wells earlier.