by Leah Brooke
After hanging up on Daniel’s laugh, J.W. sat back, frowning into his glass and wondering why the thought of having what Daniel had suddenly sounded so appealing.
He just couldn’t imagine the woman who would intrigue him enough to make him give up his privacy. He couldn’t imagine a woman strong enough to put up with his moods and life on a ranch, and yet soft and feminine enough to balance his masculinity.
With a sigh, he set his drink aside and started dealing with the bills, trying to pretend to himself that his sense of loneliness hadn’t intensified since talking to Daniel.
An hour later, he set everything aside and reached for his whiskey again, still thinking about Daniel’s call.
He didn’t have any experience with being the friend of a beautiful woman, but he’d do his best.
The ringing of the phone had him reaching for the receiver instead of his whiskey.
Smiling faintly when he saw the number on the display, he answered on the second ring, leaning back in his chair. “Hello, Mother.”
“Hello, dear, I just wanted to remind you that the caterers are going to start showing up about eight in the morning on Saturday. I can’t believe it’s coming up so fast. It’s the day after tomorrow. Can you believe it?”
Concerned by his mother’s tone, J.W. sat up again. “Mother, you’ve reminded me several times this week. That’s not like you. Why are you so worried about this? You’re a great organizer.”
“This is so important, though, and I want everything to be perfect. Have I thanked you for letting me use the ranch? The yard is going to look beautiful. They’re putting up lights, and the patio will make a perfect dance floor.”
His mother went on for several minutes, excitingly talking about her plans for the benefit.
Amused at his mother’s enthusiasm, J.D. listened with half an ear while getting his bills ready to be mailed, stiffening when something in his mother’s tone caught his attention.
Her voice became breathless and rushed, and she sounded as if she’d started crying. “I know something’s been wrong with Carolyn Davies for several weeks now, ever since she rushed to New York to see her daughter, Lana. Oh, J.W.! It’s awful. Carolyn told me just a little while ago that Lana’s still recovering from being attacked. She doesn’t want anyone to know, but I asked if I could tell you. She said that you’ve already talked to Daniel. Lana will be there Saturday night. I’ve heard about her for years, but I’ve never met her before, and I’m scared that I’ll say the wrong thing. She’s been too busy to come visit, and every time Carolyn and Henry asked me to go with them to visit her, I couldn’t go. I feel so bad about that now. She’s my best friend’s daughter, and she’s been through something awful. You will be nice to her, won’t you?”
Frowning, he tossed his pen on the desk and shot to his feet. “Why the hell would I be mean to her?”
His mother sighed. “Carolyn told me what you and Daniel talked about. I know how stubborn you are. You can be a little…abrasive.”
J.W. raised a brow at that and smiled. “I’ve been accused of that once or twice.” He’d been accused of that for most of his adult life.
He didn’t consider it abrasive to expect people to do their jobs, especially when he paid them well. It was his ranch, and he wanted things done his way.
He felt the same way about the hospital he’d pushed so hard for. He wanted it done right, and he found cutting corners unacceptable.
He had no patience for laziness or fools.
“J.W., I’m serious!”
Biting back a sigh, he rubbed his forehead where a headache started. “I know you are, Mother. I promise to be nice to your little chick.” Leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet on his desk and closed his eyes, suddenly weary. “I probably won’t see much of her anyway.”
He didn’t want to bombard her or make her nervous. He’d talk to her for a few minutes and try to make her feel comfortable with him, and then he’d leave her alone for a few days before asking her out to dinner.
“What do you mean? You’re going to be there at the party, and Carolyn’s coming early. She’s going to help me make sure everything’s arranged properly.”
J.W. smiled at that. “And it’ll give you some time to meet her daughter before everyone gets there?”
“Of course.” Lenore Brant laughed softly, her laughter tinged with tension. “But I really want you to be there. I’ve never met anyone who’s been hurt like that before and I’m really nervous that I’ll say something that upsets her.”
Rubbing his eyes, J.W. dropped his head back again. “Mother, you know I have a ranch to run. I already gave you a check for a million dollars for your cause, agreed that you could have it here, and paid for everything. I’ll be there if I can—when I can.”
“Okay.”
J.W. smiled. “You know I won’t abandon you. I’ll at least make an appearance, but when have you ever seen me stay at a party more than an hour?”
His mother sighed. “I know. Nothing’s as important as that ranch.”
“Except you.”
“I know. You’re a good boy.”
Amused, J.W. smiled and shook his head. “I’m six-eight, and I’ll be forty on my next birthday. I’m hardly a boy.”
“You’ll always be my little boy, something you’ll learn when you have children of your own.”
Sensing another lecture, he hardened his tone. “Mother—”
“I know. You’ll marry when you’re ready.” She sighed, her tone pensive. “You know, when you took over the ranch, I knew you’d do well, but I never thought you’d expand the way you did. You’ve turned Stillwater into something incredible. I’m so proud of you.”
Remembering the weight on his shoulders when he’d taken over the ranch after his father’s first heart attack, J.W. smiled. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Your father was proud of you, too.”
“I know.” Incredibly touched, J.W. smiled again and, hearing the tears in her voice, teased her to ease the tension. “And it’s an incredible legacy to leave to my children, right?”
His mother laughed. “Yes, damn it. When the hell are you going to give me grandchildren? Lenore’s going to have one any day now, and Daniel’s the same age as you. Maybe when you meet Lana…”
With a sigh, J.W. sat up again, knowing how to play the game. “Maybe I won’t be able to make it tomorrow after all.”
“Then I’ll come find you. Just imagine it, J.W. Your child could be born in the new maternity wing that you helped build.”
“Yes, Mother. I know. But I’m sure as hell not getting married just so that you can have grandchildren.”
“But you need to get married and have children. I want you to be happy.”
J.W. bit back a curse, his patience with the subject running out. “I am happy, Mother, but if you try your hand at matchmaking again, I’m not going to be. When, and if, I get married is my business. I love the ranch, and I’m happy doing what I like to do.”
“But you’re almost forty years old and alone!”
Grateful that his mother surrounded herself with friends and kept busy with her clubs and charity work, especially since his father’s death, J.W. bit back his impatience. “I’m not alone, Mother. I’m surrounded by people all day.”
“But you don’t have a wife to come home to at night.”
“And it’s real peaceful.”
His mother sighed, a heartfelt sigh filled with sadness. “So what you’re trying to tell me is that I should butt out.”
“Mother, I love you dearly, but I don’t need advice about my love life.”
“Okay, J.W., I get the hint.”
Amused at her apparent capitulation, J.W. smiled. “But that won’t keep you from bringing the subject up again.”
“You know it’s only because I love you.”
“I know, Mother. I love you, too. That’s why I let you get away with it—up to a point.”
The sound of footsteps had him lifting his hea
d to see his foreman approaching the French doors. “John’s at the door, Mother.” He waved his foreman in. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Please try to get there early.”
It still amazed him that, after all the years his father had worked the ranch, his mother had forgotten just how much work was involved and how late the nights could get.
With his father gone, he wondered if she wanted to forget.
Motioning to John to fix himself a drink, J.W. inwardly sighed. “Of course, Mother. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
After hanging up, J.W. picked up his drink again and swiveled his chair to face John, who’d taken his usual seat on the sofa. “Well?”
John Hudson, a bull of a man in his mid-forties, sipped his drink before answering. “They’re gone.” Lifting his gaze to J.W.’s, he sighed. “I’m sorry about that, J.W. I’d thought I’d nipped that in the bud. I didn’t expect them to keep drinking on the job after I caught them.”
“It’s not your fault, John. I know you watched the Avery brothers closely. Buck and Tommy just don’t want to listen, and I’m sure as hell not putting up with it.”
“Yeah, I think they got that when you put Buck through a wall. So calm. So ice cold. You didn’t even yell. Scared the hell out of the other men.” John took another sip of his whiskey. “I felt sorry for them because they’re supporting their mother.” He lifted his glass. “Hell, I like a drink as well as the next man, but they know damned well that you don’t drink on the job, especially getting as falling-down drunk as they do. That’s for Saturday nights.”
J.W. sighed, raising his voice as he stood and made his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Yeah, well, they’re young and stupid. I’d like to help them, but I can’t risk having them here.” He’d busted his ass to build the ranch into something his father had only dreamed of, and he ruled it with an iron hand.
Returning to his study, the study that had once belonged to his father, J.W. stood at the French doors, looking out at the well-lit yard, filled with a sense of pride and satisfaction. “I’m not about to let them hurt themselves or someone else because they can’t hold their liquor.”
John nodded. “I agree. They’re trouble makers and made some threats after you walked away, so I told the others that I want to hear if either one of them sets foot on the ranch.” Grinning, John stretched his legs out in front of him. “After the way you dealt with them, everyone else rushed around and did their work in record time. I gotta tell you, J.W., that ice-cold temper of yours is downright scary.”
Not bothering to respond to that, J.W. moved back to his desk, dropping into his chair. “Did you remind everyone to stay away from the house on Saturday? I only need two or three men to help set up tables.”
John nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes. They all know about the benefit, and they know your mother. They won’t be in the way. By the way, they took a collection for the maternity ward. A lot of them think it’s a long time overdue. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”
J.W. smiled. “My mother will be thrilled.”
A half hour later, they’d finished discussing ranch business and John left.
Locking up for the night, J.W. replayed his conversation with Daniel, anger at the man who’d hurt his friend’s sister returning in full force.
He didn’t know what he could do for Lana, or even if she would talk to him at all, but he’d promised to try.
He’d be her friend and see if she wanted to confide in him, but he didn’t want to encourage either Daniel or his mother.
He didn’t need any damned matchmaker to find his own woman. When he met her, he’d know it.
In the meantime, he had a ranch to run.
Chapter Three
Lana smiled politely and excused herself from another man who crowded her, a man who’d stared blatantly at the scar on her cheek that she’d tried so hard to hide with makeup.
Because she was new in town, she supposed people would be curious about her, but she hadn’t expected them to be so forward.
She’d purposely worn a demure long black dress with long sleeves and a high neckline and kept to the edges of the patio, not encouraging anyone to talk.
Miles from town, and a million miles from the life she’d lived in New York, the ranch was the most peaceful place she’d ever been in her life.
She wanted to enjoy her surroundings, letting the warm breeze, the sounds of cattle in the distance, and the sweet smell of fresh-cut grass soothe her.
Moving as far from the guests and band as she could get while keeping them in sight, she looked out at the landscape, counting the outbuildings and wondering what each of them was for. Although it was too dark to see them, she knew mountains stood tall and majestic in the distance.
She could imagine what it would be like without the music and all the people milling around. Looking up, she smiled, marveling at the number of stars, a sight she didn’t see very often with all the bright lights back home.
Home.
She had to keep reminding herself that this was her home now, her life in New York just a memory.
One bad memory seemed to wipe out most of the good.
She’d been sipping ginger ale for the last hour, hoping it would settle her stomach. She’d been so nervous about attending the benefit that she hadn’t eaten all day. Just the thought of being around a lot of strangers left her nauseated, nerves making it difficult to eat for the last several months.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her father approach and smiled as she turned to him. “I saw Mother and Lenore together earlier. Those two look like they’re having a great time.”
Henry Davies nodded, his smile distracted. “They always do when they’re together.” He took her empty glass and handed it to a passing waiter before handing her a fresh one. “You’ve been carrying that around for almost two hours now. It’s got to be warm and flat.”
With a hand at her back, he guided her from the patio to the soft grass and farther from the crowd. “I feel it’s only fair to tell you that Lenore and your mother have decided that you and Lenore’s son, J.W., would make a perfect pair. They’re already planning your wedding.”
“Dear Lord.” Lana sighed and shook her head, walking carefully to keep her heels from digging into the ground. “Daddy, I have no interest—”
“I know, and I’ll try to reason with her, but you don’t know your mother and Lenore. That’s not what I want to talk to you about, though. This is the first time I’ve had the chance to talk to you alone since…”
Blowing out a breath, her father stopped and turned her toward him. “I understood that you wanted to take as many jobs as you could.” He took her hand in his, his gaze holding hers in the faint light. “I haven’t seen you as often as I’d have liked the last several years, but don’t think for one minute that you’re fooling me.”
Shifting restlessly, Lana started to turn away. “Dad, I—”
His hand closed over her forearm, his touch gentle but firm as he led her farther from the party, strolling to the paddock fence. “Don’t. You’re thinner than ever. Too damned thin, and I suspect you’re wearing all that makeup to disguise the fact that you’re pale from lack of sleep.”
Forcing smile, she shrugged. “The makeup covers my scar, Daddy.”
His lips thinned. “That scar is hardly noticeable to anyone but you.” The anger in his gruff voice reminded her just how much her parents worried about her.
She hated it.
Her father scowled and gestured toward her dress. “You dress like a nun now, and that dress is hanging on you. How long are you going to cover yourself from head to toe? Summer’s just around the corner. It’s going to get awfully hot soon.”
Lana smoothed a hand over the scar on her left thigh, a habit she was trying to break. Stiffening when her father’s gaze followed the movement, she shrugged. “They’re ugly.”
Forcing a smile, she patted his arm. “You, Mom, and Daniel used to criticiz
e my clothes all the time for being too revealing. Now I wear something conservative and you complain that I dress like a nun.”
“You know damned well what I mean.” Taking a sip of his beer, her father took off his tie and stuffed it in his pocket. “You worry me. You never talk about it, and I think it’s eating you up inside.”
Desperate to reassure him, Lana patted his hand. “I’m fine, Daddy. You saw for yourself that I’ve healed.”
Her father frowned and shook his head. “Perhaps on the outside, but not on the inside. Each time one of us brings up the subject of your attack, you give us platitudes and change the subject.” Her father swallowed heavily, his voice breaking. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were raped.”
Her stomach clenched tighter. “I wasn’t.” Turning away, she looked in the distance and sipped her ginger ale. “You’ve all been so scared. So worried. I hate that I caused all this worry.”
“You didn’t cause anything!”
Lana sipped her ginger ale to fight the churning in her stomach. “If I hadn’t had my face in all those magazine ads—”
“It wasn’t your damned fault!” He scraped a hand over his face. “Damn it. I hate this.”
“Please, Dad. This isn’t the time or the place.”
“It never is.” He took another sip of beer, staring out into the distance. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This isn’t the time or place.” Shifting his gaze to hers, he took her hand in his and squeezed gently as he turned her and headed back toward the patio. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m always available.”
Nodding, Lana blinked back tears. “I know, Daddy.” Looking up, she caught sight of her mother waving and smiling. “Looks like Mom’s trying to get your attention.”
Her father sighed, smiling faintly. “She probably wants to introduce me to someone. She and Lenore seem to know everyone within a hundred-mile radius.”
Lifting a hand to acknowledge his wife, her father paused next to Lana. “I don’t like that you’re living alone instead of with us, but I’ll respect your decision. For now.” He ran a hand over her hair. “I don’t like that you’ve crawled into a shell. You won’t leave that apartment unless we force you to, and you won’t talk to anyone. I’m trying to be patient, but I won’t let this go on much longer.”