by Lisa Jackson
For the first time in a week he smiled, and a sense of peace invaded his soul. Yep. As soon as he touched down on Montana soil, he’d start the wheels in motion to change the direction of his life. Forever.
* * *
Kate eyed the clock. Nearly 10:00 p.m. and she was still at the office. If Sterling had a clue, he’d read her the riot act. A woman her age was supposed to eat tasteless low-sodium food, play bridge once a week, have her hair styled every Friday morning and be in bed by nine each evening. And she certainly wasn’t supposed to meddle, or as she preferred to think of it—playing guardian angel to her grown children, grandchildren, nieces or nephews.
“Phooey,” she said, stretching from her chair and walking smartly to the bar. She poured herself a glass of chilled Riesling, smiled as the wine slid down her throat and decided that Chase needed a little help. Though she’d promised herself she would never take this next step, she decided she had no other choice and crossed the room again. Outside the window the lights of Minneapolis were bright against the backdrop of the night, the city alive with a pulse all its own. Oh, how she loved it here; almost as much as she loved her family. If her work was her inspiration, her family was her purpose. Always.
She touched the keyboard of her computer, found her address book within the files and reached for the telephone receiver when she unearthed Lesley Bastian’s number. Yes, she decided, punching out the numbers, it was time to meddle a bit. Not much. Just a tiny little smidgen.
Far away in Montana, the phone on the other end of the line began to ring.
* * *
“So that’s it,” the woman who identified herself as Kate Fortune said. “I hope you understand.”
Lesley was left speechless. She hung up, her mind spinning out of control, her heart filled with despair as she thought of Chase and all he’d gone through during his life. She’d known, via Ray Mellon, about Chase losing the ranch, his twin brother, and mother. Chase himself had once alluded to the fact that he was estranged from his father and sister, Delia, and he’d explained that his wife and son had died. What she didn’t understand was that Chase suffered from guilt over their deaths.
Chase Fortune had become a lonely, bitter man. No wonder it was so hard for him to open up, to share his heart.
Well, damn it, she was going to make him try. She’d wake Angela, drive over to Chase’s house and tell him the truth, that she loved him, that she thought there had to be a way to make things work between them, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Despite all her vows to herself that she didn’t need another man in her life, could stand on her own, would be mother and father alike to her young daughter, she loved Chase Fortune, and whether he wanted to hear it or not, she was bound and determined to tell him the truth.
She’d just reached for the diaper bag when she heard a truck in the drive. Peering through the kitchen windows she recognized Chase’s pickup, moonlight spangling the fenders. Her heart jolted, her pulse raced, and when she saw him stretch out of the cab, she crossed her fingers and silently promised to say what was on her mind.
Wearing jeans and a worn rawhide jacket, he walked up the path to the back door and as he stepped onto the porch, she flung open the door. “I have something I want to say to you,” she said before she lost her nerve.
“Isn’t that something?” he drawled. “I have something I want to say to you.”
Her resolve started to crumble under the weight of his stare. His eyes were dark with the night, his jaw granite hard, his lips as thin as razor blades.
“I—”
“Marry me.”
“—love you.”
“Marry me.” He stared at her for a second. “What did you say?”
She held her breath for a second. Was she hearing correctly? “I...I said I love you.”
One side of his mouth twitched into a smile. “Well, that’s handy, since I just asked you to marry me.”
She laughed, trying to sort it out as his arms surrounded her. “You didn’t ask, Chase Fortune, you demanded.”
“I just wanted to say it fast.”
“Before you chickened out?”
His chuckled was deep and low. “Because you scare the living tar out of me.”
“Why’s that?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Her heart was pounding, the world seeming to spin more brightly than ever.
He scooped her off her feet. “Because, lady, I love you. Way too much.”
Her spirit soared and as his mouth crashed down on hers, she parted her lips and opened her heart. Could it be? Did he truly love her?
“You haven’t answered me.” He carried her into the house and kicked the door shut with his heel. “Getting married solves all our problems, you know.”
“Such as?”
“That little issue of water rights. I think if we’re careful, we can work both places off the spring runoff. We’ll live in one house, keep the stock in one area and monitor what we put in troughs. Your horses will run with my cattle.”
“You’ve got this all figured out,” she teased, as he carried her up the stairs.
“It was a long plane ride from Minnesota. Gave me time to think. We’ll work together and make both places profitable, but that’s not what really matters.”
“It’s not?” Her heart was so full she was certain it would burst.
“Nope.” Hauling her into the baby’s room, they stared down at Angela sleeping peacefully in her crib with only a night-light and the moonlight streaming through her window giving any illumination. “It’s you. And me. And Angela.” His voice lowered with emotion. “We’re a family, Lesley. If you just say yes.”
Tears touched the corners of her eyes. “Yes, Chase,” she said, overcome with a joy that started deep in her soul. “I’d love to marry you.”
He gave out a whoop, and Angela started in her crib only to fall instantly asleep again. As he carried Lesley into her bedroom, she glanced out the window to the summer night. Her mind was playing tricks on her, of course, because she couldn’t have seen the guardian angel she’d conjured up in December, the spirit named Sarah who had guided Chase to her disabled and frozen car.
No, she decided, kissing the man who was to be her husband, her mind was only playing tricks upon her because she was so blithely and deliriously happy.
She was soon to become Mrs. Chase Fortune.
EPILOGUE
Christmas bells pealed over the city, and the lights of the high-rises of Minneapolis were dazzlingly brilliant. A cold snap had blanketed the city with snow, and traffic was snarled. Chase helped Lesley and Angela out of the cab and into the Fortune Corporation headquarters where the annual Fortune Christmas party was being held.
Angela’s eyes were round and bright, the ribbon in her hair sliding off a clump of her wavy dark tress.
“It’s gorgeous,” Lesley said as Chase guided her into the room where the party was in full swing. Guests were dressed in holiday finery. Jewels sparkled under the brilliance of thousands of tiny lights.
A lot had happened since last year, and Chase no longer felt out of place, though he still tugged at his tie, and his boots pinched a bit. He was married, the father of a beautiful little girl, and Lesley was pregnant again, barely showing, but radiant in a black velvet dress. On top of all that good fortune, his ranch, the “old Waterman place” had turned a small profit for the year because of the value of his breeding stock. He’d decided to rename the ranch the “new Fortune place.”
Music and conversation buzzed around them and Kate, spying Chase and his family, waved, flagging them down as she approached. “Oh, my,” she said, sighing happily. “Look at the three of you!” She hugged Lesley as if she’d been a part of the family for years. “This couldn’t have turned out better if I’d planned it myself,” she teased, and Chase skewered her with a look that said he wasn’t buffaloed for a minute.
“You look like a million bucks, Kate.”
“Do I?” She laughed deep in her throat. “Well,
speaking of money, I have a deed locked in the safe downstairs. It gives you full title to the ranch. Good job.”
Chase hugged her and kissed her cheek. “I think I should thank you, Kate. Not for the ranch, but for giving me my life. My family.”
“Goodness.” She sniffed loudly and blinked against a sudden rush of emotion. “This did turn out well, didn’t it?” She glanced over at Lesley and little Angela as a crafty smile toyed at her lips. She winked at Chase and said, “Perhaps I should do this all again next year....”
* * * * *
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
When Bianca Shaw, his best friend’s little sister, shows up with her son, Nate Fortune finds that the past won’t stay buried…and it threatens to snuff out the future Nate and Bianca now hope to build with each other.
Read on for a sneak preview of,
HER SOLDIER OF FORTUNE,
by Michelle Major, the first book in
THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS: THE RULEBREAKERS.
CHAPTER ONE
Nathan Fortune heard car wheels crunching up the driveway through the open kitchen window at his family’s ranch outside of the tiny town of Paseo, Texas. It was almost noon, but he’d just made his second pot of coffee for the day.
Ignoring whoever was stopping by for an unannounced visit, he poured a steaming stream of coffee into a mug, took a big gulp then promptly spit it into the sink. Grimacing, he grabbed a container of vanilla creamer from the refrigerator and dumped a generous amount into his cup. While it wasn’t up to the standards of his brother’s wife, at least it was palatable.
He’d never realized he made coffee that tasted like tar until late last spring when Ariana Lamonte arrived on the ranch. Hope sparked inside him that maybe Jayden and Ariana had returned to the ranch from their research trip down to Corpus Christi. They weren’t scheduled to be back until next week, but if they were here now he could definitely convince Ariana to make him a cup of coffee in that fancy espresso maker he and the third brother, Grayson, had gotten for her last Christmas.
During his time as a navy SEAL, he’d come to master over a dozen different types of guns, but that shiny machine remained a mystery to him. Ariana loved coffee, and Nate needed caffeine like he needed air when memories of that final mission in Afghanistan kept him up at night. Sometimes he slept like the dead, and even managed to convince himself that he was getting over that last tragic mission. But then he’d wake in a cold sweat, nightmares prodding at him like an insistent finger, making sure he knew he could never move past the way he’d failed the man who had been his best friend.
The doorbell rang, and he sighed. Definitely not his brother and Ariana. He took another swig of coffee and wiped a sleeve across his mouth, approaching the front door slowly. Most people in Paseo knew Nate well enough to simply call out a greeting and let themselves in. Actually, most people would assume he was out working the land at this time of day. Normally they’d be right, except he’d been up half the night and needed coffee to keep him going—even the kind that tasted like burnt tar.
He opened the front door almost warily, not sure what to expect. Ever since he and his brothers had discovered that the father they thought had died during their mom’s pregnancy was not only alive, but was tech mogul Gerald Robinson, and more specifically Jerome Fortune, there was no telling who might show up on Nate’s doorstep. Jerome Fortune had faked his own death over thirty years ago, shortly after a fight with Nate’s mom, to make a break with his own controlling father, but as Gerald Robinson, he not only had eight legitimate children with his wife, Charlotte, but a host of illegitimate offspring.
Nothing could have prepared Nate for his body’s reaction to the woman who stood on his front porch, glancing around like she was more than a little lost. He didn’t recognize her, although there was something familiar in the big brown eyes that looked into his. What was wholly unfamiliar was the sharp prick of desire that stabbed him as he took in her delicate features—those molten chocolate eyes, a pert nose, and lips that looked almost bee-stung in fullness despite being pressed into a tight line.
Her hair was thick and dark like her eyes, tumbling around her shoulders. She wore a plain white T-shirt over faded jeans, and Nate swallowed as his gaze took in the perfect curve of her breasts and hips. He promptly cursed himself for his line of thought. Here was a stranger at his front door, and he was ogling her like some sort of randy teenager instead of a grown man of thirty-seven.
“Can I help you?” he asked, hoping he sounded more polite than lecherous.
“Hi, Nate,” she said softly. “How are you?”
“Um…fine.” He took off his Stetson, slapping it against his thigh, and ran a hand through his hair with his other hand. “Do I know you?”
The woman flashed a shy smile. “I’m Bianca Shaw. Eddie’s sister. Don’t you remember me?”
Nate lifted one hand to grip the doorframe, whether to steady himself or to keep himself from reaching for Bianca, he couldn’t say. The beautiful woman in front of him was Eddie’s little sister?
“Busy Bee,” he murmured, repeating the nickname Eddie’d used for his younger sister.
She gave a short laugh. “I haven’t had someone call me that since…” Her voice trailed off as her hands clenched in tight fists at her side.
“I’m sorry about Eddie,” he offered, the words tasting like dust in his mouth. “He died a hero.” Nate cleared his throat. “If it helps.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and swiped her fingers across her cheek.
The familiar regret and blame churned through his stomach, turning the coffee he’d drunk to acid in his belly. Eddie Shaw had been like a brother to him. They’d met their first day of Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training—more routinely known as BUD/S. Although as a triplet, Nate had always been close to his brothers, he’d formed an immediate bond with the stocky, wisecracking soldier that was just as strong.
From the few times he’d been to Eddie’s mom’s cramped apartment in San Antonio, he remembered Eddie’s sister as a gangly teenager who giggled at everything and constantly tried to tag along with the brother who was nine years older than her. Eddie had been infinitely patient with Bianca, and even when they were stationed overseas or on a ship, he’d always taken time to answer her overly perfumed letters and all the silly questions she asked about life as a navy SEAL.
“You’re here in Paseo,” he said, stating the obvious because his brain felt about five steps behind the reality of whatever was happening right now.
“I’m here,” she echoed and bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze skittering away from his like she was nervous about something. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
Nate had met people from all over the world and all different walks of life during his stint in the navy. He’d become something of an expert on reading body language, and from the splotches of color blooming on Bianca’s cheeks to the rigid set of her thin shoulders to the tiny breath she blew out as if her lungs couldn’t handle Paseo’s clean air, Nate would have sworn on everything he had that the woman standing in front of him was in trouble.
Eddie’s sister was in trouble. The brother-in-arms whom Nate had failed to save during their last mission wouldn’t have let that happen. Neither would Nate. All he had left of Eddie were memories and the guilt that burned his gut like acid. But he could honor Eddie by taking care of Bianca. It was the only thing he had left to offer.
He pushed aside his reaction to her, pretended he didn’t feel attraction pulsing through him like a drum beat, and tried to see her as the girl she’d once been. Eddie’s baby sister. That was all she could ever be to Nate.
“What do you need, Bianca?” he asked, keeping his voice soft so he wouldn’t spook her.
* * *
Bianca’s breath whooshed out in a shuddery rush at Nathan Fortune’s simple question.
The summer she was five years old, new renters had moved into the tiny apartment next door to the cramped space where Bianca lived with he
r mom and Eddie. The walls in the run-down complex were paper-thin, and the young couple stayed up late with friends, music thumping so loud it would make the pictures on the wall vibrate. Bianca’s mom had quickly become a regular at the all-night parties, and Bianca would often wake in the middle of the night to laughter or voices yelling out or other strange noises she didn’t understand at the time.
She’d tiptoe from her tiny bedroom across the hall to where Eddie slept and listen to his regular breathing. When Bianca complained about the noise, her mom told her to plug her ears with toilet paper, but that never worked. She’d creep closer to the mattress Eddie slept on. Bianca had a real headboard for her twin bed, but Eddie only had a mattress pushed up against one wall.
Her brother always seemed to know when she was coming because by the time her knobby knees hit the threadbare covers, he’d sigh and ask, “What do you need, Bianca?” at the same time he lifted one corner of the sheet so she could crawl in next to him.
She never had to answer the question out loud because Eddie always knew what she needed without her even saying it. There in the dark, with her big brother next to her, Bianca would fall back asleep. With Eddie at her side, it didn’t matter what was happening in the apartment next door. Eddie would keep her safe.
She was a big girl now and had been taking care of herself for enough time to know she didn’t need to rely on anyone. Everyone except Eddie had disappointed or abandoned her, so she’d quickly learned to stand on her own two feet. But recently she’d lost her footing as the angry hurricane of her life pummeled her from all sides. Now when she lay awake in the wee hours of the night, the only thing she wished was to be not so alone.
It was as if the universe had heard her silent plea and answered her need with Nathan Fortune. He stood in front of her, strong and sure, exactly the opposite of how Bianca felt. He was muscled and clearly in shape, his shoulders broad beneath the fabric of the chambray shirt he wore. His skin was tanned from the sun, despite the wide brim of his hat, and she could see a faint patchwork of lines fanning out from his light brown eyes when he smiled.