He stared at the stable directly in front of him, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. It was so unlike him to be nervous, and yet here he was, hoping that the prettiest member of the Broward family hadn’t spotted him on her family’s land, and that its most powerful member wouldn’t shoot him on the spot.
“The old man probably won’t even talk to me,” Austin muttered under his breath. “Like father, like daughter.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt shame wash over him. Laney may have her reasons for not speaking to him; he didn’t understand them, but he knew he had to respect her decision. But that didn’t mean he had to like it or accept it.
No way was he going to accept it.
Several days had passed since he and Laney had last spoken on her doorstep, where she’d practically ordered him to go back to Dallas. That was like telling him to crawl back to his past, where he was a rich, albeit lonely, child.
Now he was a rich man who, although he would never admit to anyone that he was lonely, would admit to one thing: he was in love with Laney Broward.
Austin took a deep breath, stepped out of the car and adjusted his Stetson.
Now he needed the help of her father to make Laney see what he already knew.
She was a woman he would call his own.
She was his future.
* * *
Steven Broward was a patient man. It was a skill that had been passed down through generations.
In troubled economic times, his grandfather Silas and later on, his father, Charles, had built up the BWB Ranch one horse at a time. Now Steven continued the tradition of slow, steady growth through the breeding of heritage cattle and other farm animals.
Growth that was now threatened by outsiders buying up the land around Granger.
City dwellers, he thought, wrinkling his nose, who now had it in their craw to be ranchers. He’d heard talk about plans to build McMansions with three-car garages and stables populated with horses purchased off the internet.
The internet! Steven thought with a disgusted sigh. It was just as well because the mountains would have to split in two before he’d sell any of his horses to them. He might as well sell his soul to the devil.
All of this was happening because Samara Lionne had established a home here by purchasing Wes’s land. His son had sold his homestead and now one of his neighbors was a woman who regularly graced the tabloids Gwen liked to read. There was a rumor floating around that she was going to turn her new “home” into a movie set.
“Gah,” he muttered under his breath. “I hate Hollywood.”
While all the gawkers, tourists and new residents had initially been great for his business, he knew it was short-lived. They were like bees attracted to an open can of soda on a hot day. The glamorous fizz bubbling over the top lured them in, until they took a dive and drowned in syrupy sweetness.
Annoying as they were, right now Samara Lionne and the out-of-towners were the least of his problems.
Steven folded his hands on his metal desk, which was battered from years of use, and waited for the man who had impregnated his daughter. And who might be responsible for her possibly losing her gold medal. And who was the subject of many a late-night argument recently with his wife, Gwen.
From his office window, which was located in the very first stable on his property, he’d seen Austin Johns approach in his truck, the value of which would have bought several hundred pounds of feed for his cattle.
Not that he judged how Austin spent his obvious wealth. After all, although Steven drove a truck that was more than thirty years old, even he was partial to the occasional Cuban cigar.
No, he judged Austin merely on the value he had to the Broward family. And right now, with all the trouble he was causing, Austin Johns, much like Samara Lionne, was an extreme liability.
Several minutes later Steven heard a car door slam and footsteps crunching gravel. He quickly busied himself with a pile of paperwork that seemed to have an uncanny ability to repopulate.
Austin knocked on the doorjamb. Steven had never installed a door in his office, preferring to allow his employees and the occasional wayward cow to have easy access to him. The earthy stench of the stables didn’t bother him, rather it was a reminder of all he’d accomplished and all that he still needed to do.
“Mr. Broward, can I see you for a minute?”
Steven stared at the handsome man in front of him. Had he ever been that young? Tall and lean, Austin had the type of barely-restrained energy that, depending how it was utilized, attracted either trouble or admiration.
He looked at his watch, an old Timex that had been repaired about as many times as his ’79 Chevy.
“Okay, but I got a feeling this is going to take more than a minute,” he said, pointing to a chair in the corner. “Have a seat.”
Austin sat with his back straight, like he was awaiting judgement from the principal, and it made Steven wonder what he was hiding.
He put his pen down on the stack of paper. “What’s going on?”
“It’s about Laney and—” he faltered.
“Are you going to ask for her hand in marriage?”
Austin knit his brows together, and Steven almost laughed at the look of shocked surprise on his face.
“With all due respect, sir, do people even do that anymore?”
Steven pondered the question a moment. His own marriage to Gwendolyn had been arranged over thirty-four years ago. Despite all the chatter around town that it wouldn’t last, it had. His marriage to Gwen was strong, stable and loving.
He shrugged. “Thought you might want to revive an old tradition, especially since you already got my daughter pregnant.”
Austin forced a smile. “It’s hard to think about marriage when the woman you care about won’t even see you. I was hoping you could help.”
Steven eased out of his chair and walked over to the glass window that overlooked an open area of the stable.
“I’ve tried everything,” Austin continued.
He glanced back. “Roses?” At Austin’s nod, he said, “She’s allergic to them.”
“I found that out, so I bought her daisies and I—”
Steven waved his hand, not wanting to hear the angst in Austin’s voice. Something about it reminded him of himself as a young man. He preferred not to think of the past, about things he could never change.
He leaned one shoulder against the glass. “Laney’s always been headstrong, like her mama. Like the fiery stallions they both breed. I’m afraid I can’t be much help to you. Neither can the latest headline.”
Austin leaned forward in his chair. “I didn’t have anything to do with that. She won that medal on her own talent and merit. You have to believe me!”
Clearly, Austin wanted some sort of redemption, for his guilt to be lifted. But Steven wasn’t ready to give it to him yet, if ever.
By way of habit, his eyes momentarily swept the interior of the stable, looking for anything out of place, but there was nothing, a testament to the strong grip he kept on the ranch.
“Over the past few days,” said Steven, “I’ve asked myself, ‘How could all of this happen to Laney?’ and ‘Why?’”
“Come up with any answers yet?”
Steven turned again toward Austin. “Only that someone in this town seems to have a grudge against my family, and they’re using you and Laney as pawns.”
Austin sat back, a look of disbelief on his face. “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know. But I also don’t need any more fodder for the rumor mill,” Steven replied sternly.
“Are you asking me to stay away from Laney?” Austin demanded.
He linked his hands behind his back. “You’re a grown man. Draw your own conclusions.”
&nb
sp; Austin shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that, Mr. Broward.”
“Because she’s carrying your child,” he concluded, internally pleased at Austin’s comment.
Austin took his Stetson off and idly rubbed his hand over his head. “At first, that was the only reason,” he admitted. “But now...”
“You’re in love with her.”
Austin stared at him wide-eyed before nodding. “Yes.”
Steven regarded the man who’d given him his first grandchild. There wasn’t another gift more precious than that, and he smiled wanly. “I know better than to stand in the way of two lovebirds.”
Austin arched a brow. “Two? What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
He crossed his arms. “Only that when you find love, even in the worst or most impossible of circumstances, don’t let it go.”
Austin grinned. “It sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
Steven noted a youthful curiosity in his voice, and he was almost tempted to share a story from his past, but quickly decided against it.
He shrugged. “I might be.”
Austin tipped his hat back and got up to leave. “Thanks for the advice, and I’m sorry for all the trouble and worry that I’ve caused you, your wife and the whole Broward family.”
Steven waved his apology aside. “A lot of sleepless nights, for sure, but we’re all up at the crack of dawn anyway. Gwen and I hope that you two work things out, for the sake of our grandchild.”
Austin nodded, and was almost out of the room when he turned and he leaned against the doorjamb. His stance was a lot more relaxed than when he’d first come in.
“If I did come to you and ask for Laney’s hand in marriage, what would you say?”
The question jarred Steven, for he knew all too well how fleeting love could be. He wanted all of his children to be happy. His sons, Wes and Jameson, had found love by way of the most unexpected events, and their lives now seemed blissful.
Could the same thing happen for Laney with Austin? Under the current circumstances, he highly doubted it. There was too much bad publicity and uncertainty. Plus, Steve knew that Austin was a jet-setter, and he feared that if they married, Laney would shun the ranch, just like Wes did. Maybe she would even sell her homestead to Samara.
She was his only daughter. He couldn’t lose her!
Life was a relentless gamble. Just when you thought you’d had it whipped, it turned around and laughed. And sometimes you had to laugh with it.
But no man was going to gamble with his daughter’s heart.
Finally, Steven shook his head no, ignoring the shock and disappointment on Austin’s face before he strode off without another word.
Steven waited until he heard the sound of the engine before he walked outside. His refusal of Austin’s request wasn’t so much a denial as it was a challenge. If Austin truly did love Laney, now was his chance to prove it—to the entire Broward family.
Chapter 10
Laney cuddled under her blanket and curled even deeper into the plush sofa in her living room.
Tomorrow night was the Granger Ball and she would be a no-show. One look in the dressing room mirror that morning while shopping for maternity clothes had clinched an already sound decision.
Although her mother and her friends would take one look at her and disagree, the truth was that she felt fat, dumpy and wholly unattractive.
“To hell with Samara Lionne,” she muttered, grabbing the remote.
She stuck her bottom lip out like a pouty child as she flipped through the channels, only because there was no one around to see her do it.
She was going to spend the rest of the day and all of the next as a cranky couch potato. Thought-provoking daytime TV, mind-numbing reality shows and a few old Westerns would numb her emotions. Either that or she’d die from boredom.
Laney pulled down the top of her favorite sweatshirt over her growing belly. As she did so, she placed her hand over the child growing beneath. “It’s just you and me today,” she whispered. “Maybe I’ll put on some Sesame Street, just to get you used to it.”
She, on the other hand, was struggling to get used to being without Austin, whom she hadn’t seen since he’d taken her to the doctor several days ago, and she’d practically slammed the door on his face.
Not even a visit with Stella Rose had cheered her up. She had nuzzled at her neck and whinnied, as if she were standing in solidarity with Laney’s plight. Or maybe Stella just missed the sugar cubes that Austin had often given her. Just like Laney missed his sweet and stormy kisses.
She’d asked Austin to give her some space, and this time, he’d listened to her. Had he finally returned to Dallas? However, this was one time she wished he hadn’t.
It’s all so confusing, she thought.
“Woohoo!”
Heart pounding, Laney shot up straight from the couch, turned around and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Brooke and she was peering through the screen in her front window.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she called out.
“I texted you that I was stopping by this afternoon. Didn’t you get it?”
“Sorry, I turned off my phone when I got home,” Laney answered, tossing the blanket aside.
So I won’t keep checking for a message from Austin.
“That’s okay, but since when do you lock your front door?” her sister-in-law asked through the screen.
Ever since Austin broke in and stole my heart, Laney thought as she got up and padded across the hardwood floor in her bare feet.
She unlocked and opened the door. “I must have done it without thinking.” She smirked and gave Brooke a peck on the cheek.
Brooke, holding two huge garment bags, side-stepped her way inside. “It’s probably a smart thing to do nowadays. Especially with a lot of new folks in town. Things sure have changed.”
“Tell me about it.” Laney closed the door. “Those look heavy. Let me help you!”
Brooke twisted away slightly. “I got them.” She walked a few more steps and gingerly laid the bundles across the love seat, arranging them carefully so that they would lie smooth. “I can’t wait to show you what’s inside!”
Laney snuck back to the couch and slipped under the blankets once more.
Brooke turned. “What’s wrong?” she asked, eyeing her lumpy shape. “Are you sick?”
Laney wasn’t about to go into all the reasons why she felt like bumming around, so she simply replied, “Nope, just trying to catch up on some mindless entertainment.”
Brooke turned to the television and lifted a brow. “You’re watching Divorce Court? Laney, you’re not even married!”
“Don’t remind me,” she said with a scowl, and then forced a hopeful lilt in her voice. “Besides, I can pick up some great tips on what not to do, just in case wedding bells ever ring.”
Brooke walked over and sat on the edge of the couch. “Don’t worry. It’ll happen. Just look at me and Jameson.”
“And soon, Lydia and Wes,” Laney reminded her. “Two pairs of perfect matches made on the ranch.”
“With one perfect pair missing,” Brooke added, a glimmer in her eye.
Laney frowned and tapped her head with one finger. “If you’re thinking about me and Austin, you’ve got something missing and it’s not us,” she grumbled.
“Not missing,” Brooke revised. “Simply waiting in the wings for the moment—” she intoned with dramatic flair.
“—when I bop you on the head with this pillow.” Laney grabbed one from behind her head. She swung it playfully at Brooke, who promptly ducked out of the way, and Laney ended up hitting herself in the face instead.
The two women doubled over with laughter. By the time they’d calmed down, Laney felt a
whole lot better and she was glad for the interruption.
“So show me what’s in those bags,” Laney said, sitting cross-legged on the sofa.
Brooke unzipped the garment bags and pulled out the dresses.
“They’re both so gorgeous!” Laney exclaimed. “Which one will you choose?”
“I’m taking myself out of the equation and letting Jameson have the final decision.”
There was something sweet about Brooke’s gesture, yet something also curdled in Laney’s stomach at the thought of a man having a say in his wife’s clothing choices. She knew she was far too independent to allow that to ever happen to her.
“Wow, you’re brave. I don’t know if I’d let a guy decide my wardrobe.”
“He’s not deciding what I wear,” Brooke retorted, sounding a bit miffed. “He’s choosing what he likes best. Since I love both gowns, I win either way. Get it?”
Laney shook her head and shifted her eyes to the television screen. A couple was face-to-face, arguing. She could almost feel their anger, even though she couldn’t hear any words. Relationships were strange. How could anger be so palpable and recognizable, yet love sometimes be so unseen?
Her eyes reached Brooke’s. “You’re trying to teach me one of the secrets of staying happily married, aren’t you?” At Brooke’s nod, Laney sighed. “And I’ve got a lot to learn, don’t I?” she asked, a rueful smile on her lips.
Brooke plopped down right next to her, nodding. “And what better people to learn from than your family? I mean, look at your mom and dad. They’ve been married over thirty years! I’ve often wondered what’s their secret.”
“Why don’t you ask Gwen?”
Brooke frowned. “I couldn’t impose.”
Laney clasped her friend’s hands. “Why not? My mom loves you.”
“I know she does now. I’m lucky she accepted me into the family, after the way Meredith treated Jameson.”
Laney shifted against the pillows, looking for a more comfortable spot. “What matters is that you are married to Jameson, not your sister. It would do you good to put all that stuff behind you. It’s in the past.”
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