by Helen Lacey
“I hated seeing Cara so distressed,” she said, eyes glistening a little before she blinked a couple of times. “I could actually feel what she was going through,” Brooke said softly and tapped a hand to her heart. “In here. I never thought I’d ever experience that.”
Tyler drank some coffee and looked at her over the mug. “Because you don’t have children? But you’re young,” he remarked and watched her jaw tense. “You still have time to have a family of your own.”
She dropped her gaze and stared into her coffee for a moment, then looked up and shrugged. “For now all I care about is saving my ranch and getting Matt to come home.”
It seemed an odd reply, but he didn’t press the issue. “Still no call from your brother?”
She shook her head. “I’m worried, Tyler. I’m worried that he’s either in trouble and can’t call...or he’s still so wrapped up in the past that he won’t call because it means he’ll have to embrace the present.” She took a long breath. “The truth is, I haven’t told him why I need to speak with him,” she admitted. “Maybe if I had, he’d be more inclined to reply. I just didn’t want to have him make the decision to return, or not, over the telephone.”
Tyler placed his mug on the table and linked his hands together. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I know this must be hard for you, Brooke. I know you’re torn between doing what is right for Cara, and being loyal to your brother.”
“Losing her is going to break my heart.”
Tyler’s throat tightened. Seeing Brooke unhappy was hard to take. The hardest thing. “I know.”
And knowing he would be the one breaking her heart, just about broke his own in two.
Chapter Nine
Cara got the all clear by the doctor later that morning, much to Brooke’s relief. She was teething and Lucy gave them instructions on how to relieve the soreness. Thankfully, the ER was quiet and they were equally thankful that Lucy was available to see to Cara’s needs.
Brooke hung back to speak with her friend when Tyler picked up Cara and walked her up and down the hall to keep her occupied.
“That is one cute baby,” Lucy said and smiled. “No wonder you’re smitten.”
Brooke nodded. “Yes, she’s adorable.”
“And as for that tall drink of water over there,” Lucy said, dropping her voice, “I can see why you’re smitten in that department, too.”
Brooke colored instantly and hugged her coat around herself. “I’m not,” she denied hotly.
“You so are.”
Brooke jabbed her friend in the ribs playfully. Lucy was the most discreet person she knew. Anything she said would remain in confidence. “Okay...so maybe I am just a little.”
Lucy’s expression softened. “I hope it works out. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s you.”
It was a nice fantasy. Looking at Tyler as he patiently strode up and down the hall with the baby in his arms, it made the perfect picture. It was everything she’d ever wanted. A family. Of her own. Forever.
Yes...a fantasy. A teaser for a life she would never have. A daydream.
But looking at Lucy, she had to believe that dreams did sometimes come true. Her friend had been in love with Brant Parker since high school and despite the obstacles along the way, they had somehow managed to find one another, to fall in love and plan a life together.
She hugged her friend and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
By the time she caught up with Tyler she was filled with emotion and silently cursing herself. She’d never been the sort of person who wept or fell in a heap. She was as tough as an old boot. Resilient and strong, that’s what Tyler had called her. But the past few days had been a roller coaster and she was feeling the stress. Time was running out for Matt to make contact, Cara would almost certainly be taken back to New York if her brother didn’t show up and Brooke was falling in love with a man she had known less than a week. But who seemed more familiar to her than anyone she had ever known.
They’d kissed. They’d almost made love. She could barely think about it without losing her mind. Kissing Tyler had been sweetly erotic and mind-blowing. And something else. Like...earth and rain and fire. Like coming home.
“Hey,” he said, jerking her back to the present. “You look far away.”
“I’m right here,” she said and laughed when Cara grabbed her hand. “I’d like to go shopping and get a few things for Cara for her birthday, if that’s okay? And then we could have lunch while we’re in town. Unless you have other plans?”
He shook his head. “No plans. I’m all yours,” he said, and she caught a gleam in his eyes. “We’re all yours,” he said and bounced Cara, making the baby squeal with delight.
The trouble was, Brooke wished they were hers.
“How about the restaurant at O’Sullivans? It’s posh and pricey, so I guess you’re buying,” she added and laughed as they made their way out of the emergency ward.
“It would be my pleasure.”
There was a boutique in town that carried a selection of baby clothes and Brooke picked out a few things for Cara and when they were done Tyler stowed the bags in the car. Then they headed out for lunch. O’Sullivans was popular because the chef, Abby Perkins, was Paris trained and well liked around town. They were seated without hassle and the waitress brought out a high chair for Cara. Liam O’Sullivan passed their table and nodded cordially.
“He seems like an intense kind of guy,” Tyler remarked, half smiling.
Brooke’s eyes widened. “Oh, he’s one of those judgmental, know-it-all jerks.”
“Just your type, then?”
She laughed and it felt good. Despite everything, despite the kisses and aborted lovemaking, it was still ridiculously easy to be around Tyler. “He’s involved with my friend Kayla. So, no, not for me. I’d prefer not to be with a man who’s in love with someone else.”
“I don’t think that will happen,” he said so quietly she leaned in closer. “I think the man who falls in love with you will want only you, and nothing else.”
Nothing else. Like no babies. No family. For a while she’d believed Doyle was that man. He’d certainly played the part, insisting it didn’t matter that they would never have children. She felt safe, cherished, loved for who she was, and not for her barren womb. His departure had taught her not to dream about having a happily-ever-after. It wasn’t fair of her to expect any man to give up his dream of fatherhood because she was unable to give him a child.
She shrugged, feeling hurt through to her bones. Cara started chatting and waving her arms and Brooke’s attention was quickly diverted. It seemed dada was now her favorite word and she said it at every opportunity. Tyler had clearly become used to it, and although he didn’t encourage the baby, he remained as attentive as always. They stayed for an hour and before they headed home Brooke mentioned she had to stop by the feed store to collect some supplements that she’d ordered for the horses. Tyler nodded, saying he needed to pick up more diapers and formula, so Brooke said she’d walk and meet him at the feed store in fifteen minutes. Once the check was settled, she kissed Cara goodbye and lingered for a moment, watching as he effortlessly strapped the baby into the backseat, waved to her where she stood on the sidewalk, and drove down the next block to the drugstore. He was so good with the baby that it made her heart ache. One day, some lucky woman would get to have his child.
But that won’t be me.
She turned and began the walk toward the feed store on Olsen Street, one block east of Main Street. It had stopped snowing and the ploughs were out in force, clearing the roads and sidewalks.
When she walked across the parking area at the front of the feed store she noticed a truck from the Pritchard Ranch parked out front. Will Serrato was at the reception counter, talking to the clerk. He nodded agreeably when he saw her and t
ilted his hat as always.
“Hey, Brooke. We’ve just been by your place.”
She frowned. “We?”
“That would mean me,” a voice said from behind her.
She turned to face Frank Pritchard. In his mid-sixties, he was a tall, stockily built man with a shock of auburn hair and a ruddy complexion. He also had an air of self-entitlement, as though he believed he had the right to say and do whatever he pleased whenever he liked.
“Frank...hello.”
Pritchard wasn’t someone who dispensed pleasantries. “You can call off the hounds now.”
“Hounds?”
He scowled, wrinkling his face up. “Don’t act innocent. And tell that useless attorney of yours that threats may have worked this time, but he gets one shot only.”
Tension cramped her shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His mouth twisted mockingly. “Sure you do. I don’t know what he thinks he knows, or what you’ve said, but making veiled accusations isn’t going to change the past.”
The past. The accident. Her lawyer knew the details, but he’d also suggested caution when dealing with the Pritchards. Werner wasn’t known for having an attack-dog style.
“I haven’t said anything,” she assured him.
He grunted. “Here,” he said, thrusting a large envelope into her hands. “What you wanted. It’s a onetime offer. No more negotiations. Take it and sign it and get it back to your lawyer,” he said and stepped back. “Or leave it. You’ve got seven days to make a decision. After that I ain’t wasting any more time on this.”
He walked off, puffing, clearly angry and Brooke stared at the envelope in her hands.
“It’s a good offer, Brooke.”
She looked sideways and noticed Will Serrato was still standing by the counter. The tall, good-looking cowboy was regarding her kindly. She opened the envelope and pulled out the documents inside. She scanned the pages quickly. It was an offer for the small slice of her land that Pritchard wanted. And it was generous. Very generous. Overly generous. More than the land was worth and much more than she’d ever imagined. Enough to pay the bank and have some left over. Enough to alter everything.
“I don’t understand,” she said, waving the papers. “What changed?”
Will shrugged loosely. “Your attorney, Stewart, came out to the ranch yesterday afternoon. He made a counteroffer and Frank accepted.”
“I didn’t instruct Werner to make a counteroffer.”
Will’s mouth twisted. “Maybe he’s a better attorney than anyone gives him credit for. He sure acted like he knew what he was doing.”
Suspicion climbed further up her spine. “I see.” She shoved the envelope in her coat, grabbed her parcel and turned. “Thanks, Will.”
Brooke spotted Tyler’s rental car as soon as she hit the parking lot and headed for it. The warm air from the heater hit her the moment she slipped into the passenger seat and strapped into her seat belt. Cara was cooing in the back, Tyler looked relaxed and very pleased with himself.
Which increased her suspicions tenfold.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he eased the vehicle into Reverse. “Did you get what you needed?”
“And more,” she replied cryptically.
He nodded. “I ordered a tree,” he said, infuriating her more with each passing second. “It’ll get dropped off at the ranch within the hour, so we should get going.”
A tree? She suspected that wasn’t all he’d been doing. But she wasn’t about to have a discussion about it while they were on the road. “Great,” she said, extra sweetly. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Tyler knew enough about women—and about Brooke in particular—to work out that she was furious with him about something. And given that he’d spotted the truck from the Pritchard Ranch outside the feed store, it had to have something to do with that.
He wasn’t sure what she knew, and he wasn’t about to deny anything.
But by the time they reached the ranch house there was so much tension in the air it could have been sliced with a knife. She hadn’t spared him more than half a dozen words the entire trip back.
Brooke got out and went to Cara before he had a chance to open the car’s rear door. She took the baby and headed for the house. She gave Cara a fruit snack and then put her down for a nap and over the next hour and a half there was more silence...too much of it. The tree arrived and he dragged it into the living room while she pulled a box of old decorations from the spare room. And still she hardly spoke.
“Something on your mind?” he asked as he repositioned the tree in the corner.
Her head snapped around and she glared at him. Oh, yeah...she was mad. She left the room, shoulders back, chin at a hard tilt. When she returned she had a large envelope in her hands. She dropped it onto the coffee table and thrust her hands on her hips.
“So, are you the hounds?”
Tyler stretched to his full height and glanced at the envelope. “What?”
“Take a look,” she offered coolly.
He grabbed the envelope and pulled out the contents, scanning the pages briefly. “It’s a good offer.”
“A good offer?” she echoed, cheeks now blazing. “Are you kidding? It’s an amazing offer. And it’s more than the land is worth.”
“He obviously wants it badly enough to set the price,” Tyler said and placed the envelope back on the table. “You should take it.”
Her eyes flared. “Should I? And you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Are you the hounds that Pritchard referred to when he gave me this earlier? He said I could call off the hounds now. So, are you?”
Tyler folded his arms. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know if you had a hand in this,” she said. “And I want to know how you did it.”
“Yes,” he replied bluntly. “I did. I spoke to your attorney yesterday.”
She drew in a deep breath, chin at an angle, eyes flashing fire. “You said you had errands to do and that’s why you left Cara with my aunt.”
“I did,” he said flatly. “One errand—a meeting with your ineffective lawyer, who now understands that he actually works for you, and not the other way around.”
“You had no right.”
Guilt niggled between his shoulders. “You needed help.”
“But I didn’t ask for it,” she snapped. “Nor did I want it.”
“Because you’re proud and stubborn,” he said, not moving. “And once you get past being angry with me, you’ll see that you got a good outcome.”
She shook her head. “Can you actually hear yourself? Do you not see how wrong this is?”
Irritation stirred through his blood. She was proud and stubborn. And he wanted to help her. Tyler wasn’t about to apologize for doing what he thought was right. “It’s not wrong to want to help a friend.”
The thunder in her expression was relentless. “We’re not friends,” she snapped back. “We’re not anything!”
Her words rocked him back on his heels. “No?” he queried, brows up.
Her cheeks were spotted with color and it made her freckles stand out even more. He fought the urge to stride across the room and kiss her again. But figured she’d probably slug him instead.
“One kiss doesn’t make us anything. And you had no right to interfere in my private business. If I wanted help, I would have asked for it.”
“But that’s just it Brooke, you don’t ask,” he said, so calmly he knew he would only fuel her anger toward him. “You don’t ask it of your family, or your friends. You’ve been holed up in this house for so long with only your pride for company you’ve forgotten what it is to ask for help, even when you need it.”
> “It’s not your job to tell me what I need,” she said, clearly exasperated. “But you’re so full of yourself you can’t see past your own arrogance. I demand to know what you said to my attorney.”
“I gave him some advice,” he said, ignoring her insult.
“Advice?”
“Yes, advice on how to actually be an attorney. Or a good one, at least. I told him to present this counteroffer to Pritchard, and let him know that if he wanted to play games he would be playing them with a New York law firm.”
“So, you lied?”
“Not at all. I told you I did pro bono work. I’d happily be your attorney to get you a deal that is fair and equitable.”
“I have an attorney,” she reminded him. “And he might not wear handmade Italian suits or have a law degree from some big-city college, but he’s the person I choose to represent me. And you have no right to undermine that and betray me.”
Tyler felt her pain right through to his bones. “It wasn’t my intention to betray or hurt you. On the contrary, I only wanted to help you. You were about to lose your ranch and there was something I could do to help. I’m a lawyer... I fix problems.”
“Except that I’m not your problem.”
Okay...so perhaps he had overstepped the boundaries of their relationship. He’d gone to see her lawyer and after speaking less than half a dozen words with the other man, realized that if he didn’t do something, she would lose the ranch that she loved. So, he’d done it with the best intentions. “You’re overreacting,” he said, impatiently running a hand through his hair. “Take Pritchard’s offer, Brooke. It’s good. It’s solid. And it will help you get the ranch back on its feet. Maybe you can now buy that colt you want to restart your breeding program. Stay angry at me if you must...but don’t let that be the reason you refuse Pritchard’s offer.”
She sucked in several big gulps of air and gave him a death stare. “Go to hell!” she said, and then turned on her heels and left the room.
* * *
Interfering, no good, arrogant horse’s ass!
Brooke was muttering that and more with every stride as she left the house and trudged toward the stables. Every breath made her madder, every step made her hate Tyler Madden even more.