The Cowboy

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The Cowboy Page 13

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  Rafe halted the chestnut and waited for Margaret to bring her mare alongside. She did so, surveying the rolling foothills spread out in front of her.

  "How much of this is Cassidy land?" she asked.

  "Just about all of what you can see," Rafe admitted. "It goes up into the mountains. My great-grandfather acquired most of it. My grandfather and father added to it. They all ran cattle on it and did some mining in the hills. The land's been good to the Cassidys."

  "But now you're thinking of selling it?"

  Rafe nodded. "Some of it. It would be the smart thing to do. The truth is, the cattle business isn't what it used to be and probably won't ever be again. The mines are all played out. If I had any sense I would have gotten rid of the stock five years ago and sold the acreage to a developer who wants to put in a golf course and a subdivision."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "I don't know," he admitted. "Lord knows I don't need several thousand acres of desert. I've made my money buying and selling businesses, not in running cattle. Compared to my other investments, running livestock is more of a hobby than anything else. But for some reason I haven't been able to bring myself to put the land on the market."

  "Maybe that's because part of you doesn't really think it's yours to sell. You inherited it so maybe you think deep down that you're supposed to hold it in trust for the next generation of Cassidys."

  Rafe was startled by that observation. She was right, he thought. Absolutely right. "Sounds kind of feudal, doesn't it?"

  "A bit old-fashioned in some ways," Margaret agreed. "But I can see the pull of that kind of philosophy. When you look at land like this you tend to start thinking in more fundamental terms, don't you?"

  "Yeah. When I was younger I used to ride out here and do a lot of that kind of thinking. Then I got away from it for a while. I got back in the habit this past year."

  "Because of me?"

  "Yeah."

  Margaret looked down at the reins running through her fingers. "I did a lot of thinking, too. It nearly drove me crazy for a while."

  "I know what you mean." Rafe was silent for a moment, satisfied that they had both suffered during the past year. "You know, I really should sell this chunk of desert. There are plenty of developers who would pay me a fortune for it."

  "Do you need another fortune?"

  Rafe shrugged. "No. Not really."

  "Then don't sell. At least not now." Maggie smiled her glowing smile, the one that always made him want to grab her and kiss her breathless. "Who knows, maybe the next generation of Cassidys won't be as good at wheeling and dealing in the business world as this generation is. Your descendents might need the land far more than you need more money. No one can predict the future and land is the one certain long-term investment. Hold on to it and let the next batch of Cassidys sell it if they need to do so."

  "You mean, tell myself I really am holding it in trust for the family?"

  "Yes."

  Rafe looked out over the vastness in front of him. Maggie's simple logic suddenly made great sense. It was a relief somehow to be able to tell himself that there was no overwhelming need to sell for business reasons. "I think that's exactly what I'll do. I wonder why I didn't think of it that way before now."

  "You've been thinking in terms of good business, as usual. But there are other things just as important. A family's heritage is one of them. My father sold his land because he had no choice. He turned out to be a much better engineer and businessman than he was a rancher. But a part of him has always regretted giving up the land. You're not forced to make the choice, so why do it?"

  Rafe reached across the short distance between them and wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck. He leaned forward and kissed her soundly. He had to release her abruptly as the chestnut tossed his head and pranced to one side. Quickly Rafe brought the stallion back under control and then he grinned at Maggie.

  "Remind me to bounce the occasional business problem off you in the future, Maggie, love. I like the way you think."

  "Praise from Caesar." Her laugh was soft and somehow indulgent. "You do realize this is the first and only time you've ever asked my opinion on a business matter?"

  "I'll obviously have to do it more often." Rafe hesitated a few seconds, not sure how to say what he intended to say next. Hell, he wasn't even certain he wanted to say it at all. But for some irrational reason he needed to do it. "Maggie, about our bargain."

  She glanced at him in surprise. "What bargain?"

  He was annoyed that she had forgotten already. "Don't give me that blank look, woman. I'm talking about the bargain we made the other day. The one in which I agreed to go to Winters's gallery show in exchange for your agreement to let me announce our engagement. Or has that little matter slipped your mind?"

  She blinked, taken aback by his vehemence. "Hardly. I guess I just hadn't thought of it as a bargain."

  "Yeah, well, that's what it was, wasn't it?"

  "I suppose so. In a way. What's bothering you about it, Rafe?"

  He exhaled heavily, willing himself to shut his mouth while there was still time. But the words came of their own accord. "I don't want you agreeing to get engaged because we've made a deal, Maggie. I don't like having you feel you've got to do it to defend Julie from my bullheaded stubbornness."

  "Oh, Rafe, I really didn't think of it quite like that."

  "All the same, I thought I'd tell you that I'll go to that damned art show with no strings attached. I'll give Winters a fair chance. As for us, you don't have to make any promises to me until you're ready. I'm willing to give you all the time you need to make certain you want to marry me."

  "You surprise me, Rafe."

  "I can see that." He was still irritated. "You don't have to look so stunned. You think I can't be open-minded when I want to be?"

  "Well—"

  "You think I can't give a guy a fair chance?"

  "Well—"

  "You think the only way I work is by applying pressure whenever I see an opportunity to do so?"

  "Well, to be perfectly honest, Rafe…"

  He held up a hand. "Forget it. I don't think I need a truthful answer to that one. But I am doing my best to back off a little here, so let me do it, okay?"

  "Okay." She smiled gently.

  Saddle leather creaked as he studied her face in the morning light. "I want you to marry me. But I want you to come to me willingly, Maggie, love. Not because I've pushed you into it." Rafe drew a deep breath and got the rash words out before he could rethink them. "Take all the time you need to make your decision."

  "So long as I come up with the right one?" Her eyes danced mischievously.

  He grinned slowly, relaxing inside. "You've got it. So long as it's the right one." The sun was getting higher in the morning sky and the heat was setting in already. Rafe crammed the brim of his hat down low over his eyes and turned the chestnut back toward the ranch.

  It was obvious from the moment Margaret and Rafe entered the thronged gallery that the showing of Sean Winters's work was a resounding success. The large, prestigious showroom was filled with well-dressed people sipping champagne and commenting learnedly on contemporary art. Margaret saw Rafe's cool-eyed appraisal of the gathering and smiled.

  "Not quite what you expected, hmm, cowboy?"

  "All right, I'll admit the man apparently has a market. The place is packed. That must be his stuff on the walls. Let's take a look at it before Julie discovers we're here."

  Sean Winters's work was clearly of the Southwestern school, full of the rich, sun-drenched tones of the desert. His paintings for the most part tended toward the abstract with an odd hint of surrealism. There was a curiously hard edge to them that made them stand out from the work of other artists dealing with similar subject matter. Margaret was instantly enthralled.

  "These are wonderful," she exclaimed, a bit in awe in spite of herself. "Look at that canyon, Rafe. And that evening sky above it."

  Rafe peered more closely at th
e painting she indicated. "Are you sure it's a canyon? Looks like lots of little wavy lines of paint to me."

  "It's titled Canyon, you twit. And don't you dare play the uncultured, uncouth redneck cowboy with me, Rafe. This work is good and you know it. Admit it."

  "It's interesting. I'll give it that much." Rafe frowned at the price on the tag stuck next to the painting. "Also expensive. If Winters can really sell this stuff for this kind of money, he's got quite a racket going."

  "Almost as good a racket as buying and selling companies."

  Rafe gave her a threatening scowl just as Julie came hurrying up to greet them.

  "You made it. I'm so glad. I was hoping you'd get him here, Margaret." Julie turned hopeful eyes on her brother. "Thanks for coming, Rafe. I really appreciate it."

  "Thank Margaret. She practically hog-tied me and dragged me here. You know I'm not into the artsy-craftsy stuff."

  Julie's sudden glowering expression bore a startling resemblance to the one Rafe could produce so quickly. "I'm not going to let you dismiss Sean's work as artsy-craftsy stuff, Rafe. Do you hear me? He is a very talented artist and the least you can do is show some respect."

  "Okay, okay, calm down. I'm here, aren't I? I'm willing to give the guy a chance."

  Julie glanced uncertainly from her brother to Margaret and back again. "You are?"

  "Sure. Code of the West and all that."

  "What are you talking about, Rafe?"

  Rafe flashed a quick grin at Margaret, who beetled her brows at him. "Never mind."

  Julie relaxed and gestured at the art that surrounded them. "Tell me the truth, Rafe. Now that you've had a chance to see it, what do you really think of Sean's work? Isn't it wonderful?"

  Margaret didn't trust the response she saw forming in Rafe's eyes. She stepped in quickly to answer Julie's query. "Rafe was just saying how impressed he was, weren't you, Rafe?"

  Rafe started to comment on that, caught Margaret's eye again and apparently changed his mind. "Uh, yeah. That's just what I was saying." He looked around as if seeking further inspiration. "Big crowd here tonight."

  "Oh, there always is for a new showing of Sean's work. He's had a steady market for some time but lately he's been getting a lot of attention in reviews and articles. His career is definitely taking off."

  Rafe nodded. "Things blow hot and cold in the art world, don't they? Not a reliable line of work. An artist can be in big demand one year and dead in the water the next."

  Margaret saw Julie's mouth tighten and she turned to pounce on Rafe. But the attack proved unnecessary. Sean Winters had come up in time to hear the remark. He smiled coolly at Rafe.

  "Nothing's for sure in the art world or any other. That's why I've paid a fair amount of attention to my investments since I made my first sale."

  "Is that right?" Rafe swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray and gave Sean a challenging look. "What do you put your money into, Winters, paint?"

  "I guess you could say that. I own that artists' supply house Julie manages. We grossed a quarter of a million last year and this quarter's sales are already overtaking last quarter's. Or so I'm told. I just read the financial statements. I don't actively manage things. Julie handles everything."

  Rafe nearly choked on his champagne. Margaret obligingly pounded him on the back. He gave her a sharp look.

  "Sorry. Did I hit you too hard?" She smiled at him with brilliant innocence.

  Rafe turned back to Winters. "Julie works for you? You own that place she's been managing for the past few months?"

  "Best manager I've got."

  "How many have you got?"

  "Two. New store just opened in Phoenix last month. Julie's going to be overseeing the management of both branches. I don't like having to worry about the business side of things so I've turned it all over to your sister. She seems to have inherited her fair share of the family talent."

  "I see," said Rafe. He took another swallow of champagne and glared around the room. "We've been looking at the paintings. Maggie likes your stuff."

  Sean grinned. "Thanks, Margaret."

  "It's stunning. I love it. If I could afford it, I'd buy Canyon in a red-hot second. Unfortunately it's a little out of my range."

  Sean winced in chagrin. "I know. Ridiculous, isn't it? For a long time I couldn't even afford to buy my own stuff. I leave the pricing of my work up to Cecil."

  "Who's Cecil?"

  "He owns this gallery and one in Scottsdale and let me tell you, Cecil is one ruthless son of a gun." Sean grinned at Rafe. "Come to think of it, you'd probably like him, Cassidy. The two of you undoubtedly have a lot in common. Want to meet him?"

  "Why not? I'd like to hear a little more about the inside workings of this art business." Rafe handed his empty glass to Margaret and strode off with Sean.

  Margaret and Julie watched the two men make their way across the room for a moment and then Julie looked anxiously at Margaret. "Rafe's going to grill Sean. I just know it."

  "I wouldn't worry. I have a feeling Sean can take care of himself."

  Julie looked briefly surprised and then she relaxed slightly. "You're right. It's just that I've been defending and protecting my dates from Rafe for so long, it's become a habit. I get nervous whenever he gets near one. He tends to stampede them toward the nearest exit. And now that I've actually decided to marry Sean a part of me is terrified Rafe will scare him off."

  "No chance of that," Margaret said cheerfully. "Sean won't scare easily." She turned back to study Canyon. "Why didn't you tell Rafe you were actually working for Sean?"

  "I wanted to make sure I could make a success of the job before I told either Rafe or my mother. This is the first position I've gotten on my own, you know. Rafe has always taken it upon himself to line up something for me. He had a job waiting the day I graduated college. Said it was my graduation present. Every time I quit one he used his business contacts to line up another one."

  "That's Rafe, all right. Tends to take over and run things if you let him."

  Julie sighed. "The problem is he's good at running business things. You can't deny he's got a natural talent for it. But when he gets involved in people things he's dangerous."

  Margaret laughed. "I know what you mean."

  "How are you two doing up there at the ranch without Mom or Connor to referee?"

  "We're slowly but surely reaching a negotiated peace."

  Julie smiled. "I'm glad. Difficult as my brother is, I want him to be happy. And he definitely has not been happy this past year. Margaret, I want to thank you again for what you've done tonight. You didn't have to go out of your way to help. It was very kind of you."

  "No problem. Rafe is basically a good man. He just needs a little applied management theory now and then. When it comes right down to it, he did it for you, Julie. You are his sister, after all."

  "No," Julie said with a smile. "He didn't do it for me. He did it for you."

  Rafe shuddered heavily and muffled his shout of sensual satisfaction against the pillow under Maggie's head. The echo of her own soft cries still hovered in the air along with the scent of their lovemaking. A moment earlier he had felt the tiny, delicate ripples of her release and he had been pulled beyond the limits of his self-control.

  She always had this effect on him, Rafe thought as he relaxed slowly. She had the power to unleash this raging torrent of physical and emotional response within him. When their lovemaking was over he was always left with an incredible sense of well-being. There was nothing else on earth quite like it.

  Rafe rolled off Maggie's slick, nude body and settled on his back, one hand under his head. He left his other hand lying possessively on one of Maggie's sweetly rounded thighs.

  For a long while they were silent together, just as they always were when they rode into the hills at dawn. In some ways making love with Maggie was a lot like taking her riding, Rafe told himself. He grinned suddenly into the moonlit shadows.

  "What's so funny?" Maggie stretched
luxuriously and turned onto her side. She put her hand on his chest.

  "Nothing. I was just thinking that being with you like this is a little like riding with you."

  "I don't want to hear any crude cracks about midnight rodeos."

  "All right, ma'am. No crude cracks." He smiled again. "Midnight rodeo? Where'd you get a phrase like that? You've been sneaking around listening to country-western music stations, haven't you?"

  "I refuse to answer that." She snuggled closer. "But for the record, I will tell you that you're terrific in the saddle."

  "I was born to ride," Rafe said with patently false modesty. "And you're the only little filly I ever want to get on top of."

  "Uh-huh. Keep it that way. Tell me what you talked about with Sean Winters tonight at the gallery."

  "It was men's talk," Rafe said loftily and was promptly punished by having his chest hair yanked quite severely. "Sheesh, okay, okay, lay off the torture. I'll talk."

  "Yes?"

  "We discussed business."

  "Business?"

  "Yeah. The business of the art world. It's real dog-eat-dog, did you know that? Bad as the corporate world. We also talked about the fact that he fully intends to marry Julie. With or without my approval."

  "And?"

  Rafe shifted slightly on the pillow. "And what?"

  "And did you try to buy him off?"

  "That's none of your business."

  "You did, didn't you?" Maggie sat up abruptly, glaring down at him. "Rafe, I warned you not to try that."

  He studied her breasts in the moonlight. She had beautiful breasts he told himself, trying to be objective about it. They fit perfectly into his palms. "Don't worry, we got the issue settled."

  "What issue?"

  "Winters's paintings are for sale, but he isn't," Rafe explained succinctly.

  Maggie flopped back down onto the pillow. "I told you so."

  "Yeah, you did, didn't you? Has anyone ever told you that's a nasty habit?" Rafe asked conversationally.

 

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