Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

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Brand (The Donovan Dynasty) Page 3

by Sierra Cartwright


  He nodded. A runaway train was easier to stop than Erin. This time, he was grateful.

  “You’re going to be fine.”

  He’d rather climb on the back of a roaring, snorting sixteen-hundred-pound bull than deal with a guest list.

  Inside, the DJ announced that it was time for a line dance, and Erin gave a quick excuse then hurried off.

  He went to the bar and ordered his second beer of the evening. Other guests were reaching for glasses of champagne, but he preferred to drink Santo, a rich, thick brew that suited his personality.

  Because of the heat and late spring humidity, there weren’t a lot of people outside, but he still wandered to the far side of the courtyard and leaned against the outer adobe wall. In a crowd of any size, he tended to seek out quiet corners.

  Now that the toasts and obligatory pictures were out of the way and the party was in full swing, he loosened his bulldogger tie and unfastened the top button of his Western shirt. He took a deep drink and glanced toward the clubhouse.

  Inside, his new sister-in-law was also participating in the line dance. He wasn’t sure what radiance looked like, but Lara had to come close. She and Connor had gotten married in a private ceremony weeks before. He’d only met her the previous evening, but he’d instantly seen why his brother had been attracted to her. She was witty, beautiful and elegant, a fitting partner for the ruler of the Donovan empire. Connor was clearly besotted, if the fact he couldn’t keep his hands off Lara was any indication. When she’d briefly left the room, he’d followed her movements and momentarily lost track of the conversation.

  Until he’d seen the two together, Cade had been a bit skeptical of love. To him, it seemed like an emotion that fucked with people’s common sense, something with the power to be dark and destructive.

  No doubt his father had loved his mother, but he hadn’t been strong enough to tell his own father to fuck off so he could be with the woman he loved. Instead, he’d married Angela Meyer. She was obviously a fine woman, if his half-siblings were anything to judge by, but Cade had seen the way Jeffrey looked at Stormy up until the day he died.

  Love for a man she could never have had kept Stormy stuck, and it wasn’t until a year ago that she’d even gone on a date.

  But watching Connor opened Cade’s jaded eyes, just a little.

  A few minutes later, champagne in hand and a stupid smile on his face, Connor wandered over.

  “Congratulations,” Cade said.

  “Glad you could make it.”

  “Wouldn’t have missed it,” he replied. He’d talked to Connor when Lara had approached him with her bold proposal to save her family’s business. Cade had offered his support, but he’d urged his older brother to exercise caution. He’d sacrificed a lot to take the helm of Donovan Worldwide. He should have had years to travel, learn the business, date. But he’d never complained. He’d simply done what he’d needed to. All without blaming Cade for anything. “You look…happy.”

  Connor grinned like a fool. “I am.”

  “Here’s to many joyful years together.” He lifted his beer bottle and Connor tapped the rim of his glass against it.

  “You’re going back in the morning?”

  “Figured I’d head out after breakfast. Get in a half-day’s work, at least.” Cade didn’t have to explain. More than any of his half-siblings, Connor understood him, his need for solitude, to roam the land in endless search of healing. His grandfather, behaving more like a general than the colonel he was nicknamed after, often insisted that Cade needed to spend more time with the family, so it fell to Connor to cover and make excuses. Cade appreciated it. “I’m told I need to ask you for a guest list for the centennial.”

  “That’ll take some thought. I’ll try to remember to ask Thompson.”

  “Since you’re technically on your honeymoon starting tonight, I’ll get with him. He’s here tonight, isn’t he?”

  “Somewhere. But wait until Monday. This is supposed to be his day off.”

  “I forget.”

  “It’s a Donovan curse.”

  Cade nodded. Their father had always told them it was their responsibility not to fail. And none of them wanted to be one to let down the previous five generations. “Speaking of work…”

  “I should have guessed.”

  “When you’re back from your honeymoon, I could use some time to discuss some ideas for the ranch.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Ah. You mentioned something about this being your reception?”

  They exchanged shrugs.

  Connor glanced back inside, evidently to ensure his wife was occupied. “Make it quick.”

  “I’m thinking of offering limited tourism. Maybe seasonal.”

  Connor took a drink and regarded Cade. “On the whole section?”

  He shook his head. “Just section one.”

  “That one’s yours. You don’t need to run anything past me unless you’re looking for a second opinion.”

  “It’s your heritage, too. But there are fiscal aspects to consider. Could make money. Could lose it.”

  “What are the net benefits?”

  “More people get to enjoy it. It provides employment opportunities for people living in town. Considering allowing tubing on the river. Horseback riding. That sort of thing. If it makes money, we could consider expanding the conservation area into section one.”

  “Negatives?”

  “Because I live there, it could mean some loss of privacy. Increased insurance premiums. Environmental impacts, for sure. We’d need parking, restroom facilities, vans or some way to move people around.” They already offered hunting, fishing and birding trips. But those were on the southernmost portion of the land. “There have to be another dozen things I haven’t considered.”

  Connor nodded. “Have you consulted with Ricardo?”

  Ricardo was the foreman of that section. More than anyone, he would know some of the pitfalls. “I was going to do that next.”

  “Good plan. Then have him contact Nathan. Nathan can work on a feasibility study, work up a cost analysis.”

  “You don’t mind me asking?”

  “Why the hell would I mind?”

  “He’s got real work to do for Donovan Worldwide. This would be a distraction.”

  Connor’s eyes, so similar to Cade’s, narrowed. “Don’t make me knock some sense into you in front of the family.” Connor’s voice held shards of ice.

  “I’m still bigger than you,” Cade reminded him.

  “But I’m more pissed. And you’ve fucking had it coming for a long time. Five years, at least.”

  Cade took a swig of his beer, considering. Connor was right. Something raw and nasty gnawed in Cade’s gut. Guilt. Anger at the unfairness of it all. Part of him wanted Connor to take a swing. Maybe it’d give him some fucking release.

  Nathan strolled over.

  The tension between Cade and Connor continued to roil, just beneath a polished veneer.

  “Private party?” Nathan asked.

  “Brotherly love,” Connor returned. “Welcome to the brawl.”

  “Damn. We haven’t had one of those in what, seven, eight years?”

  Cade remembered the fucking miserable summer night in Corpus Christi. Middle of August. Eighty-something degrees, ninety percent humidity, making the air as suffocating as a wet blanket. Only two things had been moving, rattlesnakes and tempers.

  “What are we fighting about?” Nathan sounded interested.

  “Same thing as last time,” Connor replied.

  “More or less,” Cade agreed. Back then, Cade had been in college, and Connor had recently graduated from high school. Though their father had insisted Cade receive a good education, it had been clear that Connor would inherit the majority of the family’s money and interests. Cade hadn’t objected. After all, he’d had no desire to move to Houston. He’d liked his life the way it was. All he’d needed was the rodeo, his ridiculously fast cars and motorcycles and a
place to stow his gear.

  None of them had known that it would be the last time they’d all be together with their father still alive. The four had spent the day on the land. Their father, Jeffrey, had told them the history of ranch, shared his memories, the dreams he’d had for it. And they’d all heard the regret in his tone. He’d loved the ranch, and that he wasn’t able to devote time to it had bothered him.

  Connor had said that Cade would make it all happen. Cade, feeling like the outsider he was, hadn’t wanted something that rightfully belonged to his brother. He’d said he’d be moving along after he’d earned his degree.

  Later that night, Connor had sought him out, called him a quitter and told him he had the same obligations as any other Donovan.

  All his life, Cade had heard the whispers. He was a bastard, an imposter.

  His frustration at being told to step up and behave like a member of the family had made him furious, and he’d thrown the first punch.

  Connor had gone down, but he’d grabbed Cade’s ankle and yanked him off balance, slamming him to the ground. He might have been bigger than Connor, more accustomed to barroom and street brawls, but he had been dazed, and Connor had taken advantage of that. He’d still been pummeling Cade when Nathan had joined them and pulled Connor away and stayed between them until the tensions had eased.

  “I’d prefer not to spill any of this mighty fine cabernet. But if necessary…” Nathan put down the glass on a nearby table. “Whose side am I on? Or am I just supposed to separate the two of you?”

  “Your choice, big brother,” Connor said to Cade. “You can continue to be a jackass or you can lose the chip on your shoulder and realize no one objects to you owning section one.” He narrowed his gaze. “Or the house. If you want to burn the thing down or sell it, turn it into a bordello, that’s your right. You owe us nothing.”

  “A bordello?” Nathan asked. “Now there’s an idea.”

  “Whether you like it or not, we’re brothers,” Connor persisted. He didn’t even bother to direct his gaze toward Nathan. “If you have a personal business idea, we sure as hell should be the people you turn to first, for advice, feasibility studies, financing. It’s what family does.”

  He got that Erin, Nathan and Connor did that for one another. But Cade spent the majority of his time alone. Always had.

  “What’s it going to be, Cade?” He put down his champagne glass. “You going to take the help? Or are you going to continue to be an asshole with some fucked-up version of reality in your head?”

  The laughter and revelry from the reception spilled around them, yet the tension continued to draw and stretch. Cade had no doubt Connor was serious. He’d fight for family, even if Cade didn’t think he deserved it. And Connor threw a wicked punch. He’d go for a quick one-two to the gut then the jaw. Cade was fast and big. Both had reserves of anger to draw from. But on principle, Cade wouldn’t hit as hard. He wasn’t sure he wanted to drive back to the ranch with a dislocated jaw.

  In the end, it was Nathan, as always, who defused the situation. “My jacket is brand new. I’d hate for my biceps to tear it.”

  “Your biceps?” Cade repeated, feeling some of the tension begin to ease from his gut, even though Connor still looked pissed.

  “Been keeping myself fit so I have the energy to shoot down the ideas that everyone else thinks will make millions of dollars,” Nathan said.

  He was damn good at it. Not only did he have the patience to drill down on the most mundane details, he had a sixth sense when it came to evaluating a company’s place in the market.

  “Takes talent to thrash the wheat from the chaff.”

  “True,” Connor conceded.

  “Let me at it,” Nathan continued. “You can email me or I could come down.”

  A few seconds stretched, the silence tenuous.

  “That’d be good. It’s been a while,” Cade agreed.

  The angry tension drained from Connor’s face, and the knot inside Cade began to dissipate. He was smart enough to realize that he didn’t deserve the family who so lovingly accepted him.

  “I’ll email you on Monday and set up a time,” Nathan said. “Maybe stay a couple of days.”

  “You’ve got a room waiting.” More like a wing, and if he wanted even more privacy, there were an additional three guest cottages on the property. Eighty years ago, the size of the house had made sense. Now it stood mostly as a museum.

  No matter what the will or Connor said, Cade believed it belonged to his siblings every bit as much as him.

  “Lara and I might come down, too,” Connor said, as if Cade hadn’t just been on the edge of fracturing their relationship. “When he was here, Julien mentioned he may want some time to ride horses.”

  “Bonds gets his prissy ass on a horse?”

  “Inconceivable,” Nathan added.

  Connor shrugged.

  “He’s welcome. I’ll keep a guest house ready.” The ranch had a short landing strip and a helicopter pad, making it easy in and out for a notorious recluse.

  Any lingering emotional strain was shattered when Cade saw Lara and Erin heading toward them. Erin’s hand was firmly clamped around Sofia’s wrist.

  Well, well.

  The evening was looking better every moment.

  Chapter Two

  Nathan stepped aside to make room for the ladies.

  “We’re sorry to interrupt,” Lara said, her voice holding no trace of apology. “Cade, I’d like you to meet my friend Sofia McBride. She owns Encore, the events company that put together this reception. Two hundred people, three weeks, one brilliant result.”

  “We’ve met.”

  “You have?” Lara frowned.

  After sweeping his gaze over Sofia, he said, “She’s been taking good care of everyone.”

  “Thank you, thank you,” Sofia replied, taking a little bow, likely to cover the flush of embarrassment that had crept up her face.

  He wondered if anyone else noticed the way she was avoiding eye contact with him. No doubt he’d had the same effect on her as she had on him.

  From the first moment he’d seen her, the petite, curvy woman had grabbed his attention. And she hadn’t let go.

  She wore a jacket over a stretchy white shirt, and a matching black skirt clung to her hips and thighs, tight in a way that made him want to touch. Despite the heat, she had on stockings, and he was man enough to wonder if they were attached to a garter belt. Her pumps were several inches high, but she would still fit beneath his chin.

  Vaguely, he noticed that Lara hadn’t stopped speaking, and he forced himself to focus on what she was saying.

  “Encore Events specializes in pulling off the impossible, which she certainly did tonight.”

  He hadn’t glanced away from Sofia, even though she had yet to meet his eyes.

  “Best of all,” Lara continued, “they have several locations in Texas, including one in Corpus Christi. All of your centennial celebration problems are solved.”

  Understanding dawned, hot with possibility. Sofia had said she was from Corpus, but she hadn’t mentioned she had offices there.

  “We’ll leave you to it.” Lara nudged Connor.

  “Right,” Connor responded. “I think I’ll dance with my wife.”

  “Does this mean we’re not having a brawl?” Nathan asked.

  “It means you need to excuse yourself,” Connor told him. “Unless you want to get dragged into discussions about petits fours and color selection.”

  “I kept you out of those decisions,” Lara replied.

  “I owe Sofia my eternal and undying gratitude.”

  Lara flashed Connor a sunny smile. “You can thank me later. In private.”

  He skimmed his finger down Lara’s throat and across the diamonds in her necklace. For a moment, the two appeared lost in each other.

  Nathan cleared his throat. Still, it took Connor a few seconds to drop his hand and stop staring at his wife.

  As if nothing untoward were ha
ppening, Erin filled the silence by saying, “Cade will need your centennial celebration guest lists.”

  Nathan groaned.

  She glared at him. “By the end of the week.”

  “It’s not too late to burn the whole thing down,” Nathan said to Cade.

  Erin punched him in the biceps.

  “Damn.”

  “Be glad I hit like a girl.”

  “Christ. What the hell? Have you been taking boxing lessons?”

  “Thought you said you’d been working out?” Cade asked easily.

  “She only hurt me because my muscles were sore from pumping iron this morning,” Nathan replied, but he rubbed at his arm.

  “Uh-huh,” Erin said.

  A few seconds later, Lara and his siblings returned to the clubhouse.

  Then he was alone with Sofia. He thumbed back the brim of his hat so he could get an even better look at her. The glow from a nearby lamp reflected off the coppery highlights in her mahogany hair. She wore it pulled back, in some sort of fancy braid that he itched to free.

  Out here, under the filtered lights, he noticed that her hazel eyes were flecked with gold. Unusual and arresting.

  “Erin and Lara mentioned you’re planning a centennial celebration for the ranch sometime this fall,” she continued. “I was told, in no uncertain terms, that there will be no buffalo chicken wing cupcakes on the dessert table.”

  “She’s correct. Turns out planning a party is outside of my usual job description, and I was just informed that I should have already sent out a save-the-date announcement.”

  “We can do that. And we can handle as much or as little as you want. I have a generic checklist of all the things that need to be considered. I can email it to you. You can decide which things you want to handle yourself and which you want to hire out. If you want to be your own coordinator, it will give you a list of the service providers you may want to consider.”

  “Caterers, for example?”

  “Absolutely. Ones who would never consider putting buffalo wing cupcakes on the menu.” She grinned.

  Sofia had an easy-going but professional air that appealed to him.

 

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