“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” she murmured.
Murphy gave a low whistle.
“See, I—I want to go to college. I’ve wanted to go for such a long time, but it would have taken me forever to save the money, and—”
“Well. That explains a lot. Like why a nice girl like you would give herself to a man she barely knows.”
“I’m not giving myself to him. Not—not like you think.”
She felt a rush of embarrassment again and returned to her tail combing, wishing Murphy hadn’t brought up any of this.
“The minute he gets title to this ranch, you know he’s going to sell it,” Murphy said.
Ginny was silent.
“And that’s the last you’ll ever see of him.”
“I don’t care. I have my own plans.”
“Time’s gonna pass, though, and you may have a tendency to start thinking otherwise.” Murphy’s mouth was set in a taut line of disapproval. “He’ll hurt you if you let him, Ginny. And he won’t think twice about it.”
“I don’t think he’s like that,” she said. “Not really.”
“His grandmother thought that, too. She was blind when it came to Cole, thinking he was different from his father. Do you know he only came back here four times? Four times in ten years, after everything Edna did for him. She invited him back for every holiday, even though I told her he wouldn’t come. But still she hoped he would.”
“Maybe there was a reason—”
“No. No reason. Just lack of gratitude. He had his grandmother snowed, and it looks like he’s got you snowed, too.”
“No. He’s not like that. He’s—”
She stopped short, unable to find the words to express to Murphy that she saw something in Cole maybe nobody had ever seen before. Nobody, maybe, except his grandmother. But even if she found the words, she knew Murphy wouldn’t believe them.
“I—I think I’d better go,” she said. She set the comb on the edge of the stall door and started to leave the barn. She’d just about gotten out the door when Murphy called to her.
“Sunday’s yours for the time you’re here, if you want her.”
Ginny whirled around with a small, involuntary gasp, her hand flying to her chest. “Really?”
“I’ll tell the boys not to turn her out to pasture. But that means you need to ride her every day or she won’t get the exercise she needs. You can come back tomorrow night for another lesson if you want to.”
“Oh! I will!”
Ginny felt a surge of excitement. This was going to be like having her very own horse.
Then Murphy’s face grew serious again. “Where Cole’s concerned,” he said, “I just want you to keep your eyes open.”
She knew there was another part to that warning he wasn’t saying.
And your heart closed.
10
“IT’S A two-hundred-unit building, built in the twenties, all brick, minimal structural problems. It’s next to a residential area that’s on the upswing, and the numbers look good.”
Cole sat in the back booth at Taffy’s, drinking a cup of coffee and listening to Dave Fletcher try to sell him on some run-down rattrap on the outskirts of Morrison Heights, a suburb of Dallas filled with early-twentieth-century homes and apartments. Morrison Heights was nice in the areas where renovation had been done and a hellhole where it hadn’t.
“What’s the current occupancy?”
“Seventy percent.”
“Which means the other thirty percent is rotting away.”
“Yep,” Fletcher said. “Which is why we can get it for fifty percent of market value. Maybe less.”
He went on to spell out a few more of the numbers—owner financing, possible tax advantages, government money that might be available to assist with some of the rehab. Cole had to admit that the longer the guy talked, the better it sounded.
Then Fletcher pulled a stack of photos out of his pocket. Cole flipped through them. The complex had all brick buildings and nice architecture. Yes, the wood trim was rotting, but the basic structure was there. He started to envision exterior paint, awnings, brass fixtures, landscaping. He looked at some interior photos and saw arched doorways, crown moldings and solid-oak floors. The place was a renovator’s dream, as long as he had plenty of money to play with. But it was a deal only if the rents could be at least tripled on completion of the project.
“It’s not close enough to downtown,” Cole said. “It may be hard to get tenants at the rents we’d have to set.”
Fletcher leaned forward, folding his arms on the table in front of him. “Well, my friend, that’s where the risk comes in, doesn’t it? But then, you’ve never been one to let a little thing like that get in your way. I’m betting you can make it enough of a draw that the location won’t be as big an issue.”
Fletcher was a player, and a good one at that. But Cole wondered whether he might be stepping out on a limb with this one.
“So when will you be coming into that chunk of cash you told me about?” Fletcher asked.
It was the first week of September. He’d take title to the ranch in about three months. But how long would it take to sell it after that?
“Hard to say. Several months at least.”
“If I bump the purchase price just a little, I think the owner will go for a one-year option. I’ll put up the option money. That’s a drop in the bucket. All you need to do is come through with your half of the purchase price at closing.”
Fletcher wasn’t talking about much money compared to what Cole would have upon the sale of the ranch, and it was just the kind of project that made his blood rush.
“You sure you want to mess with me, Fletcher? Some people think I set fires.”
“You’ve always shot straight with me. That’s all I give a damn about. Besides, you’re the only guy I know who’s got the vision and the guts to tackle this project.”
Cole leaned back in his chair. “I’m not too hot on the idea of taking on a partner right about now. Any partner. No offense.”
Fletcher smiled. “None taken. But I know you better than that. I don’t care what’s happened in the past. If you smell money in a deal, you’ll be all over it. And I think you’ve got a whiff now, don’t you?”
Cole stared at him, his brain moving like lightning, putting the photos and the numbers together, and the more he thought about it, the better it seemed. He felt that rush of adrenaline, the one that always swept through him whenever a deal came together.
“Just give me a little nod here, McCallum. That’s all I’m asking for right now.”
Cole tapped his coffee cup with his fingertip. No risk right now, with possibly a big payoff in the future. He couldn’t lose.
“Get the option,” he said.
Fletcher smiled. “I knew I came to the right place.” He stood up and tossed a ten on the table. “I’ll be in touch.”
DRIVING BACK to the ranch, Cole stepped on the gas a little heavier than usual, feeling his Porsche corner smoothly along the curves of the state highway. His heart beat faster than usual, his mind truly at work for the first time since he’d come to Coldwater.
Fletcher had been right. He smelled money in this one, and he had nothing to lose when somebody else was putting up the option money. Soon he would have the capital to put into the project and be flying high again, rising to that place where his life was his own and nobody could touch him.
He came into the kitchen to find Ginny sitting at the table, thumbing through a magazine.
She looked up with a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He sat down at the table and pulled off his boots.
“Did you get dinner?” she asked. “I have leftovers—”
“No. It’s okay. I ate at Taffy’s.”
He looked across the table at the magazine she was reading. “Western Horseman?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you get that?”
“Murphy gave it to me.”
“Murph
y? Why?”
“He thought I’d like it. He’s teaching me how to ride.”
Cole stared at her with surprise. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I rode a horse named Sunday. Murphy taught me about saddling her, and then I rode some, and then he showed me how to brush her.”
“Murphy did all that?”
“Yes. He was actually very nice.”
Cole couldn’t believe it. Were they talking about the same grouchy old man?
“Riding is so much fun,” Ginny said, her face glowing. “Maybe you can come down some evening and—”
“I do plenty of riding during the day, Ginny. I don’t need an evening of it, too.”
He spoke a little more harshly than he intended to, but something about Murphy being so nice to Ginny really put him on his guard. What did the old man hope to accomplish by doing that? Turn her against him?
“Just remember that Murphy is liable to say some pretty nasty things about me.”
Ginny smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t necessarily believe everything that Murphy says about you.”
“Good.”
“And I don’t necessarily believe everything that you say about Murphy, either.”
She looked at her magazine with a self-satisfied smile, and all at once Cole realized it had been a long time since she’d cowered around him like she used to. When she spoke to him now she looked him right in the eye and didn’t flinch. And the sight of her sweet little face wearing that smug expression made him wonder if that was good or bad.
She’s not what you thought she was, he realized in a flash of insight. She’s one hell of a lot more.
He watched her for several seconds as she focused on the magazine, her chin resting in her hand, her golden-brown hair falling in thick strands along her cheeks.
She looked up and saw him staring. “What?”
For the hundredth time, he thought, She’s not beautiful. So why was it sometimes he just couldn’t take his eyes off her?
“Uh…nothing.”
He rose and headed to the living room, where he flipped on the television. Ginny joined him a few minutes later.
“What are you watching?” she asked.
“It’s September. And this is Monday night.”
“So?”
“Football. The Cowboys’ season opener is tonight.”
“Oh,” she said with a disinterested sigh. “Football.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a football game.”
“I’ve never seen a football game.”
He recoiled, giving her a look of utter disbelief. “That’s downright un-American.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Tell you what, sweetheart,” he said, patting the sofa cushion. “Why don’t you sit right here and I’ll teach you all about it.”
“I don’t want to learn all about it.”
“Then you’ll really be in the dark every Sunday afternoon and every Monday night, not to mention Saturdays with college ball.”
“You’re going to be watching all those times?”
“Yes, and that’s absolutely nonnegotiable.”
“Sorry. Everything’s negotiable.” She thought for a moment. “Let’s see…for every football game we watch, you have to give me two cooking shows.”
Cole screwed up his face with disgust. “Two for one? How fair is that?”
“Plenty fair when football games are hours long. Even I know that.”
“Can I sleep through the cooking shows?”
“As long as you keep your hands off the remote.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “You ever think about investing in real estate? It’s all in the negotiating, you know.”
“I’m keeping my options open.” Ginny sat on the sofa. “Speaking of real estate, how was your meeting tonight?”
Cole stared at her. “You knew what my meeting was about?”
“Your voice carries when you’re on the phone.”
So she knew what he was up to, and she was smart enough to know what it meant. But it didn’t matter. They had a deal, and she’d known from the beginning that he intended eventually to sell the ranch and pocket the money for investment purposes.
So why did he feel so guilty?
He shrugged off that feeling, even as he sensed that she wanted to know more. She didn’t ask, though. Good thing, because he didn’t want to tell her. What he did with the money this ranch would bring him at sale was nobody’s business but his.
GINNY HAD NO IDEA that watching a football game could be such an excruciating experience.
It had nothing to do with the game itself. As games went, football was pretty interesting. But not half as interesting as Cole.
At the start of the game, he’d taken her hand and pulled her right down next to him, her thigh only inches from his. Normally when they watched TV they occupied separate ends of the sofa, but here they were, sitting as close as…well, as close as if they were married.
Move over, she’d told herself about a thousand times since the game started, but then Cole would lean into her and point at something on the screen, and the heat from his body would send warm shivers flowing through her. He’d casually tap her arm or her leg every once in a while to get her attention, and although he did it in the most platonic way possible, every time he touched her she practically jumped right out of her skin. Even the low, husky quality of his voice as he patiently explained first downs and field goals and penalties made her a little light-headed, until she was sure she’d never remember a single word of what he was telling her.
He was keeping his promise. He was acting as if they were just two friends watching a football game together. Nothing more. But the longer she sat only inches away from Cole, the more she realized that keeping him segregated to the friends side of her brain was a very difficult thing to do.
As halftime approached, she closed her eyes for a moment and imagined what it would be like if they were really married and were watching the game together. Would they carry on their own halftime activities and forget all about the rest of the game?
A montage of the kisses Cole had given her, at the Lone Wolf, in Vegas, in the bank, flashed in her mind, hot, sensual kisses that had put all her senses on red alert. Pretty soon she was imagining his lips on other parts of her body, as well. A hot blush rose on her cheeks, and it was all she could do not to leap up to splash icy water on her face.
Casual conversation. That’s what she needed. Bland, sexless words coming out of her mouth to stop the spicy, sexy thoughts running through her mind.
“The Cowboys play in Dallas, right?” she asked. “Did you ever go to football games when you lived there?”
“Yeah. A couple of times. I even thought about getting season tickets once.”
“I bet they’re expensive.”
“Yeah, but I could have afforded it. Back then, anyway.”
“Before the fire.”
The words slipped out before she really thought about them, and the look on his face said it was a subject he would just as soon not discuss.
“In case you’re wondering,” he said, “I wasn’t guilty. I didn’t do what they said I did.”
“I know you didn’t. The jury found you innocent.”
“There are some people who still think otherwise. It’s damned hard to change people’s minds. Especially around here.”
“Murphy’s in particular?”
Cole made a scoffing noise. “He’s nothing but a narrow-minded old man.”
Ginny wasn’t quite sure about that. While Murphy was big and gruff and every bit as opinionated as Cole, it was easy to see that he really did have a good heart. So what was the problem between them?
“You never did tell me what brought you to this town when you were a teenager,” she said.
“I came to stay with my grandmother.”
“I know that. But why?”
“Just drop it, okay?”
“Hmm. You don’t want to talk about it.
That must mean the rumor I heard was true.”
“What rumor?”
“That you killed someone during a gang war in Dallas and were hiding out at your grandmother’s ranch until the heat was off.”
“What?”
Ginny smiled. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”
“Good God,” Cole said. “I can just imagine the stories they told about me when I was up on those arson charges.”
Ginny picked up the remote and muted the sound. She turned to face him, eyeing him expectantly. Finally he sighed with resignation.
“When I was sixteen,” he said, “my father got thrown in jail for writing one too many hot checks. My mother ran off years before that, so my grandmother took me in. I barely knew her, but she was the only family I had.”
So that was it. No wonder Cole had a chip on his shoulder when he rode into town all those years ago. He’d come here with an attitude that said he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought because he knew no one cared about him, either. She felt a rush of sympathy as one more piece of his puzzle fell into place.
“And then I met Murphy,” Cole went on. “He hated me on sight. He naturally assumed that because of my father, I was bad news, too.”
“Were you?”
“No. I mean, I guess I didn’t exactly make things easy for them in the beginning, but I’m not my father, Ginny. I wasn’t then, and I’m not now.”
“So things were difficult between you and your grandmother?”
“No,” he said sharply. “My grandmother was a wonderful person. It was Murphy. He was the problem. Men like him see things one way. Their way. He didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt back then and he has no intention of doing it now, either. When the fire happened and I was investigated for arson, he took that to mean that he’d been right about me all along.”
“But you were found innocent.”
“He just figures I had a good lawyer.”
“That’s not fair. Murphy should give you a chance.”
“Yes, he should.”
“Maybe you should give him a chance, too.”
Cole shrugged indifferently. “Actually, Ginny, none of this matters. I’ll be out of here in a few months, and then we’ll never have to see each other again.”
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