Connor Lark turned to his fiancée. “Something tells me the children won’t be bored while we’re gone, dear. I think they’re going to be able to entertain themselves just fine without us.”
Bev glanced curiously from Margaret’s cool, deliberate smile to Rafe’s thunderous scowl. “Something tells me you’re right, Connor.”
Rafe stood beside Margaret as Connor drove away from the house. When the car was out of sight he took Margaret’s arm and turned her firmly back into the foyer.
“Now tell me what the hell this business is about attending an exhibition of Winters’s work.”
“It’s very simple. Julie and Sean invited me last night before they left. I accepted.” She took a deep breath. “On behalf of both of us.”
Rafe propped one shoulder against the wall in the negligent, dangerous pose he did so well. He folded his arms across his chest. “Is that right?”
Margaret cleared her throat delicately. “Yes. Right.”
“What the devil do you think you’re doing, Maggie?”
“Manipulating you into giving your sister’s choice of a husband a fair chance?” She tried a smile to lighten the atmosphere.
“Trying to manipulate me is right. At least you’re honest about it. But you should know me well enough by now to know I don’t like being manipulated, not even by you. And what the hell do you mean my sister’s choice of a husband? She told you she’s actually thinking of marrying that damned artist?”
“They told me their plans last night. I think they have every intention of following through, Rafe, with or without your approval. You’d better learn to accept the situation graciously or risk alienating your sister.”
“Damnation.” Rafe came away from the wall and plowed his fingers through his hair. “Marry him? I didn’t know they were that serious. I thought Winters was just another boyfriend. Julie’s always got one or two trailing around behind her.”
Margaret eyed him with a feeling of sympathy. “You’ve been looking after her for so long you may not have noticed she’s grown up, Rafe. Julie’s an adult woman. She makes her own choices.”
“Some choices. She hasn’t even been able to choose a job she can stay with for six months at a time. The guy’s an artist, Maggie. Why couldn’t she have found herself a nice, respectable …” His voice trailed off abruptly and he slid a quick glance at Margaret.
“A nice, respectable businessman? Someone who wears three-piece suits and ties and travels two weeks out of every month? Someone who needs an attractive, self-sacrificing hostess of a wife to entertain his guests while he closes big deals?”
Rafe winced. “Is that what you thought I’d turn you into? The boss’s wife?”
“It’s one of the things I was afraid of, yes.”
“You should have said something.”
“I tried. You never listened.”
“I’m listening now,” Rafe said evenly. His gaze locked with hers. “Believe me?”
Margaret nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said, “I think I do.”
Rafe nodded once. “Okay, that’s settled. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to approve of Winters.”
“Rafe, they don’t need your approval. They’re quite capable of getting married without it.”
“You think so?” Rafe’s mouth twisted. “What if Winters finds out Julie doesn’t come equipped with an unlimited checking account and a handful of charge cards?”
“I don’t think he’s marrying her for her money.”
“How do you know? You only met him once last night.”
“I liked him. And even if he is marrying her for her money, there’s still not much you can do about it. Your best bet is to stay on good terms with your sister regardless of whether her decision is right or wrong.”
“I could always try buying Winters off,” Rafe said thoughtfully.
“I don’t think that would be a very smart thing to do, Rafe. Julie would hate you for it. Give Sean a chance first before you try anything drastic. Come to the gallery show with me.”
“Why? What will that prove?”
“It will give you an opportunity to meet him on his turf, instead of yours. If you’re going to have him in the family you should make an effort to learn something about his world.”
“Stop talking as if the marriage is an accomplished fact.”
“Rafe, you’re being deliberately stubborn and bullheaded about this. Give the man a chance. You know you should.”
“Yeah? Why should I?” he challenged.
“I thought giving the other guy a fair chance was one of those fundamental tenets of the Code of the West.”
He scowled ferociously at her. “What the devil are you talking about now? What’s this nonsense about a code?”
She smiled again. “You know that basic creed you probably learned at your father’s knee. The one he undoubtedly got from his father and so on. The one that’s supposed to cover little things like vengeance, honor, justice and fair play among the male of the species.”
Rafe swore again in disgust and paced the length of the foyer. He stopped at the far end, swung around and eyed her for a short, tense moment. “You want to play by the Code of the West? All right, I’ll go along with that. We’ll start with a little simple frontier justice. If you want to manipulate me into going to that damn gallery, you’ve got to pay the price.”
Margaret watched him with sudden wariness. “What price?”
Rafe smiled dangerously. “In exchange for my agreement to go to the showing, you agree to let me announce our engagement. I want it official, Maggie. No more fooling around.”
Margaret took a deep breath. “All right.”
Rafe stared at her in open astonishment. “You agree?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, cowboy.”
Rafe gave a shout of triumph. “Well, it’s about time, lady.”
He took one long stride forward, scooped Margaret up in his arms and carried her down the hall to the nearest bedroom.
This time he took off his boots.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RAFE SADDLED HIS BEST chestnut stallion the next morning at dawn. Out of the corner of his eye he watched with satisfaction as Maggie adjusted her own saddle on the gray mare. He took a quiet pleasure in the competent manner in which she handled the tack and the horse. Connor had been right. His daughter knew her way around a barn.
Rafe wondered how he could have spent two whole months with Maggie last year and never learned that single, salient fact about her.
Then again, those two months had passed in a tangled web of sudden, consuming passion mixed with an explosive game of corporate brinksmanship that had involved millions. There had been very little time for getting to know the small, intimate details of his new lover’s past. He had been far too anxious to spend what little free time he had with her in bed.
Money and love were a dangerous combination, Rafe had discovered. A pity he hadn’t learned to separate the two before. But, then, in all fairness to himself, he’d never come across the two combined in such a lethal fashion until last year.
He knew what he was doing this time around. He could handle both.
“All set?” he asked as he finished checking the cinch on his saddle.
“I’m ready.” Margaret picked up the reins and led her mare toward the barn door.
“We’ll ride out over the east foothills. I want to show you some land I’m thinking of selling.” Rafe walked the chestnut out into the early-morning light and vaulted lightly into the saddle. He turned his head to enjoy the sight of Maggie’s sexy jeans-clad bottom as she mounted her mare. The woman looked good on horseback. Almost as good as she looked in bed. Rafe nudged the stallion with his knee and the chestnut moved forward with brisk eagerness.
The day was going to be hot, Rafe thought. They all were this time of year. But at this hour the desert was an unbelievably beautiful place—still cool enough to allow a man to enjoy the wide-open, primitive landscape. It was a landscape that had
always appealed strongly to something deep within him. They had never talked about it, but he’d always sensed the land had affected his father and his grandfather in the same way.
They rode in companionable silence until they came to the point where a wide sweep of the ranch could be seen. Only a handful of cattle were visible. Here in the desert livestock needed vast stretches on which to graze. The cattle tended to scatter widely.
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 descendants 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?”<
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“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 the 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?”
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