One Bride Delivered

by Jeanne Allan

“Have you ever done anything impulsive in your life?”

  “I plan ahead and consider all possible consequences. People who aren’t willing to take the trouble to plan like to brag they’re impulsive. They’re not. They’re lazy.”

  “Life happens. You can’t plan everything.”

  “That’s an easy way of refusing to accept responsibility.”

  Cheyenne could see he believed every ridiculous word he uttered. She tried another path. “Olivia told me a little about your family.”

  “Olivia thinks she knows everything.” He added smoothly, “She told me you’re too good for me.”

  “I am not responsible for how Olivia’s mind works.” Doggedly Cheyenne pursued her goal of learning more about him. “She said your grandparents started from nothing and built the Steele hotel chain through hard work and tons of sacrifice.”

  “They did.”

  “She also said they forgot how to play and have fun.”

  “Buying old hotels and turning them into Steele hotels was their idea of fun.”

  “Is it fun for you, Thomas?”

  “It’s what I was trained to do. Fun doesn’t enter into it.”

  “Was Davy’s father trained to run the hotels, too?”

  Thomas carefully drew a small piece of chicken through his raspberry salad dressing. “Everyone thought he’d want to be in the family business.”

  “Didn’t he? Is that why you became estranged?”

  The waiter removed their salad plates saving Thomas from having to answer. When the waiter left, Cheyenne said slowly, “I thought your brother was scratched from the family bible because he married a maid. Are you saying he was scratched because he didn’t want to run hotels?”

  Thomas’s eyes darkened. “He scratched himself. Left a note saying he didn’t want to be contacted. Said his wife was his only family from then on. I respected his wishes.”

  Cheyenne studied him as the waiter set their dinners before them. Thomas’s face gave nothing away. She looked down at her grilled trout. “Greeley tried that once. The night after she graduated from high school. Said she didn’t belong on the ranch. Left a note thanking Mom, and took off. We all went after her Worth found her at the train station in Glenwood Springs. He dragged her kicking and screaming back to the ranch and told her if she ever treated her mother like that again he’d use his belt on her backside.”

  “And she stayed because he threatened her? Was I supposed to go after my brother and beat him up?”

  “Worth has never laid a hand on man or beast,” Cheyenne said indignantly. “Greeley knew he’d never hurt her. It was what he said when he was so mad he wasn’t bothering to be polite. He said what he thought about her hurting her mother. Not his mother or my mother. Her mother.” At Thomas’s confused look, she explained, “Beau met up with a woman in a bar in Greeley. Nine months later the woman showed up with a baby in her arms. Said the kid was Beau’s and she didn’t want her, so Mom took her.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Greeley was a Lassiter. I know now there was paperwork and trips to lawyers and to court, but then, I was four and Allie was three, and we thought for the longest time that’s how people got babies. Somebody brought them to the door. We never thought of Greeley as half Lassiter and half whatever the woman who gave birth to her was. That’s what Worth was telling Greeley. No matter how she came to be, she was Mom’s daughter and our sister.” Cheyenne toyed with her dinner. “We weren’t going to let her walk out on us. She’s family.”

  “If you’re trying to compare my family with yours, the situations have nothing in common. How is your meal?”

  “Delicious.” She knew a slamming door when she heard it. “Did Davy tell you about the golden-mantled ground squirrels we saw up on the mountain today?”

  “All Davy can talk about is riding your pony. He said you’re going riding again tomorrow. Is Olivia going?”

  “She left for home this morning.” Cheyenne smiled. “One ride was all she wanted.”

  “I’m curious about that. Didn’t you say Olivia was over eighty?”

  “Eighty-three. She comes to Aspen with her daughter and son-in-law and books us so they don’t feel guilty doing things without her. We’ve been escorting Olivia around for several years. She loves the ranch, but it wasn’t until last year that she told us riding a horse was a lifelong dream of hers. Allie and I put our heads together, and Allie thought we could bring it off. Copper is a placid mare, and Allie worked with her all spring so she wouldn’t mind an awkward rider. We weren’t sure Olivia would have the strength to hold on, but Worth said he’d ride with her and keep her from falling. I’m glad we could make her dream come true. Olivia was so happy.”

  “Is that why you’re in the type of tour business you’re in? To make dreams come true?” The mockery in his voice came through loud and clear.

  Cheyenne swallowed her defensive retort. A sophisticated woman wouldn’t worry about people’s dreams. “I’m in it for the money. I used to teach—no money in that. Now I do the tour thing all year. It’s really my baby, because Allie still teaches, but she works with me summers and holidays. A number of agencies do Western rides or nature trips or take children or people with special needs, but a lot of people fall between the cracks. That’s where I come in. Specialized, personalized tours. People are willing to pay a lot for my services. Like you, I run a niche business.”

  “Hotels aren’t a niche business.”

  “Steele hotels are. A person can get a bed and clean bathroom almost anywhere. Steele hotels provide atmosphere, ambience, history. Not to mention luxury and sinfully lavish care and personal attention. Olivia isn’t alone in refusing to stay anywhere else if she’s in a city with a Steele hotel.”

  “Maybe I’ll use you in our next advertising campaign.”

  She smiled. “Sweeping through the lobby, dragging a fur coat?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of riding your horse into the lobby, and none of the employees blinking an eye.”

  Cheyenne refused to let her smile slip as she mentally kicked herself. The whole point of the hair, the dress, the makeup had been to convince Thomas she was no different from the other women he knew. Women too sophisticated to rhapsodize over his hotels.

  Noticing a U.S. senator in the far corner of the dining room, Cheyenne turned the conversation toward politics. From there they discussed art, the theater, food, and finally sports. She kept her comments superficial and impersonal.

  It was a relief when she could finally push away her coffee cup. “Thank you for dinner.” She nodded at the papers. “Hopefully you’ll find Davy’s schedule satisfactory, but if you have questions, you can fax me.”

  “I’ll call the hotel limo to take you home.”

  “That’s not necessary. It’s a lovely evening. I’ll walk back with Allie. We share a condo.”

  “Then I’ll walk you both home.”

  “It’s not far and perfectly safe. There will be plenty of people out, and we’ll have the dogs. You can’t leave Davy.”

  Thomas pulled out her chair. “He’ll be asleep. Someone from housekeeping can stay with him for a few minutes.”

  She couldn’t help grinning. “You don’t know much about little boys, do you?”

  He followed her from the dining room. “I used to be one.”

  She doubted that. “And you went to bed when you had two dogs visiting you?”

  “My mother doesn’t allow pets in her residences.”

  They stopped in front of the elevator. “It’s good for children to have pets,” Cheyenne said.

  He pushed the button. “You’re going to say a pet teaches responsibility. I learned it without a dog and so will Davy.”

  “Actually, I was going to say having a pet teaches children to think about others.”

  Thomas thought about others. Especially one other. Not that he wanted to. He should have realized Cheyenne would sabotage his scheme. Damned woman even bragged about her cleverness. Of al
l the stupid notions for her to come up with. No wonder she drove her family crazy. Always thought she knew best, Worth said. She could have given Thomas a little credit instead of thinking he wanted her because she’d been raised on a ranch and didn’t look like the average female New Yorker.

  “Gosh, Cheyenne looked funny last night. Like somebody on TV. I didn’t know she could look like that. Why she’d wanna look like a girl?”

  Thomas looked up from his breakfast. “She is a girl. A woman.”

  “She smelled and my nose itched.”

  Thomas managed not to laugh. “I suppose you thought the dogs smelled better.”

  “Well,” Davy said seriously, “they smelled like dogs. Cheyenne didn’t smell like her. She smelled like those other ladies, like the fish egg lady.” He frowned. “Do girls think us guys like that smell?”

  “Some guys do.”

  “I don’t. Do you?”

  Thomas drank some coffee before reluctantly admitting. “I thought she smelled good.”

  “I think she stinked.”

  “Keep it to yourself or you’ll hurt her feelings.”

  “Her heart already hurts.”

  Thomas stopped eating. Did Davy know something about a failed love affair or something about Cheyenne’s health? “How do you know?” He was really asking what Davy knew.

  Davy obligingly told him. “Allie said Cheyenne’s heart is too big and it hurts her. I hope it don’t hurt today.” He jumped up from his chair. “I’m done. We’re going to the ranch. I get to ride Slots. Cheyenne said he likes boys.”

  “Do everything on your list. That includes brushing your teeth.”

  Thomas pushed aside his plate and poured himself more coffee He had no trouble interpreting Allie’s remark about her sister’s heart. Not for one second last night had he believed Cheyenne’s claim to be in business for the money. The woman was a cross between a bleeding heart and a crusader who’d targeted him to be Davy’s surrogate father. Too bad. He’d charted the course of his life, and Davy had no place in it.

  Neither did Cheyenne Lassiter.

  Which made her invasion of his mind all the more annoying. It was bad enough she haunted his dreams. No surprise there. The woman was a walking sex object with those long legs and that mass of blond hair. She’d make any man hot. That postage stamp of a dress she’d worn last night hadn’t helped.

  Thomas considered the situation with detachment. He’d always prided himself on being more interested in a woman’s mind than her body. He didn’t give a damn about Cheyenne Lassiter’s mind. He’d fallen prey to pure and simple lust. There was no dressing it up under false pretenses He wanted to bed her. Period. She could check her mind and her self-righteous viewpoints at the bedroom door. Three seconds of listening to her expound on the way the world ought to be would drive him mad. He slowly set down his coffee. Yes, it would.

  He’d discarded his previous plan too quickly. Davy said she’d been like someone on TV. An actress playing a part. Pretending to be sophisticated and knowledgeable. Pretending she belonged in his world. She didn’t. The answer was to replace the images in his brain with images of her totally, awkwardly out of place in his world.

  Easy enough to find the invitation. He hadn’t intended to go, but to send the usual contribution. The party would be perfect. The cause was for animals or something. The invitation had suggested a donation of five hundred dollars per person. Beautiful people. Entrée to an outlandishly expensive house. The cream of the social crop flying in for the occasion. No woman would think of refusing to accompany him to the party.

  She’d stick out like a sore thumb. He ought to feel sorry for her. He didn’t.

  He hadn’t asked her to respond to his nephew’s stupid advertisement. He hadn’t asked her to stir up his life. To stir up his hormones. He hadn’t asked her to do anything—except keep Davy out of his hair. A simple enough request. Thomas took one last swallow of coffee and told himself there was no way traces of her perfume from last night lingered in the room.

  Every breath she inhaled brought her the scent of her own perfume. And the heady scent of the aloof man sitting at her side on the leather seat. She’d almost said no when he’d phoned her this morning inviting her to join him tonight. Remembering the way he’d laughed last night when Davy and the dogs had managed to drench themselves in the Hyman Avenue Mall fountain, she’d said yes. When she’d first met Thomas Steele he would have ordered his nephew out of the pulsating waters in a forbidding voice. Cheyenne chose to see his laughter as a sign of softening. She wasn’t giving up on Thomas Steele yet.

  “It’s a beautiful evening. The first star is already up. The stars seem closer here,” she said.

  “They look brighter because they’re not competing with city lights.”

  She knew that. She was merely making conversation, not easy when she sat royally in the back of a limo while someone she knew chauffeured her. “I don’t know if it was Davy or Mom who was happier about him spending the night on the ranch.” That topic went nowhere. She tried again. “Davy did very well today. He’s good with animals. Doesn’t rush them.”

  “He’s afraid of them.”

  “He’s cautious. Nothing wrong with that.” His body language told her he disagreed. “Davy takes his time, looks the situation over, and plans accordingly. I’d say that was a Steele trait.” Encouraged by a slight grunt of reluctant laughter, she said, “He helped saddle Slots and he mounted and dismounted by himself and afterward, he helped rub Slots down.”

  “What kind of name is Slots for a pony?”

  “The kind you use when your great-great-grandfather, Jacob Nichols, names the ranch the Double Nickel after him and his wife Anna. Jacob took their last name and spelled Nickel like the coin so he could use two round circles as their brand. Then he named his horses after money. His son started using numbers, my grandfather added gambling, well, you get the idea.”

  “Thus we have Denver Mint and Casino, the horse you rode.”

  “And Bullion, Sawbuck, Payroll, Sterling, Ten Spot and so on. It’s a family tradition.”

  The limousine rolled to a smooth stop in front of a spectacular sprawling brick and stone house Floodlights bathed the circular driveway and entrance. Their driver opened Thomas’s door, then hurried around the rear of the car to open Cheyenne’s door, winking at her as she exited the car.

  Thomas spoke a few muttered words to the driver, then lightly grasped Cheyenne’s elbow. “I see we’re not the first.”

  “Nor the last.” She indicated the line of cars entering the drive. “A good crowd. Allie will be happy.”

  “Allie?”

  “This is one of her pet charities.” Thomas’s silence spoke for him as they stepped into the cavernous marble-lined foyer. “You don’t have a clue what charity this is for, do you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Thomas, what a surprise.” In the glass-fronted great room, Stephanie Winston glided up and presented a porcelain profile.

  Thomas kissed her cheek. “Stephanie. You remember Cheyenne.”

  “The cowboy’s daughter.” She turned toward Cheyenne with an artificial smile, then her jaw dropped as she took in Cheyenne’s appearance.

  “Nice to see you again.” Cheyenne couldn’t decide if she was flattered or insulted by the other woman’s shock.

  “Cheyenne, it’s perfect for you. I knew it the minute I saw it.” A petite, sable-haired beauty arrived at Cheyenne’s side and gave her a big hug. “Jake said red’s not your color. Men. It’s not red, it’s watermelon pink.” Releasing Cheyenne, the woman extended her hand toward Thomas. “Hi, Thomas, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Kristy Norton. We met at—”

  “Of course, I remember you, Mrs. Norton.”

  “Kristy. Fair’s fair. I called you Thomas.” She slipped one hand through Cheyenne’s elbow and the other through Thomas’s and turned a beguiling smile on Stephanie. “You’ll excuse me if I take these two away, won’t you?” Without waiting for Ste
phanie to answer, Kristy dragged them across the enormous room and into a book-lined library.

  Cheyenne gave a small gurgle of laughter. “I thought you told me you’d turned over a new leaf.”

  Kristy laughed with her. “Jake’s right. It doesn’t pay to be nice to hangers-on. They never get the picture.”

  “I don’t think she’s exactly a hanger-on,” Cheyenne said.

  “Whatever. I saw the way she looked at Thomas. You don’t hear him complaining, do you? And why should he? I thought Allie looked terrific tonight, but you are dynamite. Isn’t she just the sexiest thing at this party?” she demanded of Thomas.

  “How am I supposed to answer that when it’s asked by a beautiful woman?”

  “Handsome and dangerously smooth,” Kristy said. “Jake,” she said to her approaching spouse, “take Thomas to get a drink. I want to gossip with Cheyenne. We’ll have champagne,” she called as the men walked away. “Drinks are in the wine cellar. We have plenty of time for you to tell all.”

  Cheyenne shook her head at Kristy. “You’re outrageous.”

  “Never mind me. What’s this about you and gorgeous Thomas Steele? When Jake told me last night, it was all he could do to keep me from running over to the St. Christopher to see for myself. Do you know his reputation? Just about every unattached woman on the east coast—and a few attached ones—would do anything to get him in her bed, but he never plays. How did you do it?”

  “He’s not in my bed. He’s a client.”

  “Thomas Steele needs a specialized tour guide?”

  “Not Thomas. His seven-year-old nephew.”

  Kristy frowned, then said, “That’s right. I did hear something about David leaving a child.”

  Cheyenne had forgotten Kristy lived in New York City before she married Jake. “Did you know Thomas’s brother?”

  “Every halfway pretty girl in New York knew him. Then one day he disappeared from the party scene. There were rumors he’d found a new girlfriend, but no one knew who she was. We thought his parents had succeeded in hooking him up with some rich girl. He complained about that all the time, that he and Thomas needed to marry somebody rich.”