by Diana Palmer
Danny’s hand worked the gearshift feverishly, the force of speed throwing Shelby back against the cushy leather seat. The roar behind them got louder and the low-slung black Porsche came alongside, hesitated, then shot forward like a black bullet giving an insolent long honk as it easily outdistanced the little Jaguar and vanished around a curve into the grove of towering oak and pecan trees.
Shelby had recognized the other car, and her accusing dark eyes met Danny’s as he pulled up in front of the 19th century Victorian house that was the Brannt homeplace.
“Sorry,” Danny said genuinely. “But I knew you wouldn’t come with me if I leveled with you, and I needed you here with me. I’ll tell you the real reason later.”
“What makes you think I’ll be speaking to you later?” she asked half-amusedly as she watched Kingston Brannt emerge with cat-like grace from the black Porsche.
Two
He was as intimidating as ever. Tall, lean, whipcord muscled, and as elegant as any male model in the brown slacks and cream colored sports shirt he was wearing. He approached the car lighting a cigarette, but his fingers froze on the lighter as he looked into the Jag and spotted Shelby sitting next to his brother. His face went harder than stone, but his eyes even at the distance began to catch fire. Shelby stiffened instinctively and fought down an urge to get out of the car and run. She was more afraid of King than she’d ever been of any human being. She’d never understood why, but the fear was real and definite. Especially after her last visit here.
“Hey, calm down,” Danny said gently, noticing the rigid set of her slender body, the wide-eyed panic in her flushed face.
King finished lighting his cigarette and pocketed the lighter with ill-concealed violence. He watched Danny get out of the car and greeted him warmly, but his eyes were still on Shelby, never wandering even when Danny came around to help her out of the little car.
She moved away from the door stiffly, hanging onto Danny’s hand as if salvation depended on it.
“Hello, Shelby,” King said quietly.
She couldn’t meet those smouldering dark eyes. Her gaze went no higher than his firm, hard mouth.
“Hello, King,” she replied.
“We weren’t expecting you,” he persisted, with a sharp glance at Danny.
“Mom and Dad were,” Danny corrected with a smile. “We came down to tell them about our engagement.”
King’s eyes seemed to explode at the statement. “You and Shelby?” he asked curtly, as if the idea was ridiculous.
“Me and Shelby,” Danny nodded. “Well, aren’t you going to congratulate us?”
The older man took a long draw from his cigarette, studying Shelby’s flushed face. “Where do you plan on living? San Antonio? I can’t see Shelby settling for life on a ranch when she’s so used to night life,” he bit off.
Shelby bit her lip and turned her face into Danny’s shoulder, hating her own weakness, the tears that threatened. Danny’s hand contracted on her arm.
“Do you have to attack her before she gets her feet on the ground good?” Danny challenged hotly.
“I’m not attacking her,” King said mildly. “I just can’t see her fitting in here,” he added darkly.
Danny put his arm around Shelby’s thin shoulders. “Let’s go tell the folks, honey,” he said gently. “Come on.”
She pressed close against Danny’s side, not looking at King as they walked past him.
“Shelby…” King began.
She kept her eyes lowered. “I’ll only be here for the week, King,” she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “I won’t get in your way.”
“Oh, hell!” King growled. He turned on his heel and stalked away toward the ranch office just down the road from the house.
“Buck up,” Danny told her with a brotherly hug and grin. “The worst part’s over. It’ll be downhill now.”
Kate Brannt came into the hall to greet them, hugging her son and then Shelby with a warm affection that made her feel part of the family.
“You look lovely, my dear, but far too thin,” Kate teased, shaking her silver head with a smile. “Modeling is causing you to waste away.”
Shelby smiled. “At least I don’t have to worry about getting fat,” she laughed.
“I think she looks fantastic,” Danny said. “By the way, Mom, we’re getting married.”
Kate’s face froze, and Shelby saw a curious hesitation, and something like pain, touch the thin patrician features. It wasn’t that Kate didn’t approve of her, Shelby knew, but something was definitely wrong.
The older woman recovered quickly, placing an affectionate arm around Shelby to draw her into the living room with its brown and beige decor. The air-conditioning felt delicious after the taste of southern Texas heat that was unusual for this time of the year.
“I’m delighted that we can finally get you into the family,” Kate said, and there was genuine feeling in her voice. “It just comes as a bit of a shock. You and Danny always seemed more like brother and sister to me.”
Danny chuckled and sent a knowing wink at Shelby. “Did we, now?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek.
Kate sat down on the dark brown brocade sofa, motioning Shelby to a seat beside her.
“Have you told Kingston?” Kate asked hesitantly.
So that was it, Shelby thought, she was worried about how her eldest son was going to react to the engagement. The whole family must know about his prejudice….
“We told him,” Danny said with a heavy sigh. He plopped down in an armchair across from the sofa.
“And?” his mother probed gently.
Danny shrugged. “He made some sarcastic remark about Shelby not adapting to ranch life, and when she promised to keep out of his way while she was here, he threw out a cuss word and stomped off into the sunset.”
Kate’s eyes closed briefly. “I see.”
“I wish I did,” Shelby said. “I don’t understand him.”
“I do,” the older woman said quietly. “I only wish I could help.” The pained look left her face and she smiled. “Enough about that. Tell me all the news. It’s been weeks since I’ve been in San Antonio!”
Shelby was just finishing an anecdote about her latest modeling assignment when Jim Brannt came in, his silver hair gleaming in the light, his dark eyes smiling as they lit on Shelby and his son.
“Well, well, I hear champagne’s in order,” he said with a grin. “King just told me.”
“Speaking of old grumpy,” Danny grinned, “where’d he go?”
“To help Handy fix a fence.”
Danny blinked. “In his street clothes?”
Jim shook his thick thatch of silver hair out of his eyes. “Seemed kind of strange to me, too,” he said.
“I made him lose his temper,” Shelby said in her soft voice. “As usual, I’m afraid,” she added wryly. “I rub him the wrong way.”
“Nothing unusual,” Jim chuckled deeply. “Everything’s been rubbing him wrong for months. I guess it’s his age—he’s restless. I know how he feels, too; when I hit thirty-two, I wanted to throw up my hands, get out of the cattle business, and go fly hot air balloons.”
“Have you made arrangements to let the men off tomorrow for the fiesta?” Kate asked her husband.
“All but three, who swore they couldn’t care less about chili cookoffs and river races,” he laughed. “Older hands, you know. Old Ben Ballew was one of them, and you know how he hates parades and crowds.”
“We’ll enjoy it, though,” Kate said with a smile at her ruggedly attractive husband. She reached out and patted Shelby’s hand. “So will Shelby. She’s never been here for the fiesta before.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Shelby said. She smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was already wishing she’d never come. King was going to give her hell again, she just knew it.
He didn’t come in for supper, and it wasn’t until the elder Brannts had gone up to bed, leaving Danny and Shelby alone in the living
room, that King finally came back to the house.
He took off his ranch hat and tossed it unerringly onto the rack in the hall. His boots were dusty and his once-immaculate pale yellow shirt had traces of dust and grease on it. King looked unspeakably weary. His face was heavily lined, his step slower and less spirited than usual as he came into the living room. His face was proof of the iron control that was part of him, showing no trace of emotion. His dark eyes were equally unreadable as they flashed from Shelby to Danny as he walked to the bar. He splashed bourbon into a glass and added ice to it before he dropped into a deep leather armchair by the fireplace and lit a cigarette.
“Get the fence fixed?” Danny asked with raised eyebrows.
“Um hum,” King murmured. He lifted the cigarette to his chiseled mouth and gazed piercingly at Shelby, who dropped her eyes rather than try to survive that intense scrutiny.
“Lose any cattle through it?” Danny persisted.
“No.”
“Did it take long to fix?”
“Yes.”
“God, you’re talkative tonight!” Danny said, exasperated.
“What would you like me to say,” King asked thinly, “Congratulations?” He made the single word sound like an insult.
Before Danny could answer him, the phone rang and seconds later Mrs. Denton, the housekeeper, stuck her head in the door to call Danny.
“It’s for you,” she told him, smiling at Shelby. “Hello, Miss Kane. I saw your mother in a movie on television just last night. She’s such a good actress!”
“Thank you,” Shelby said automatically.
“Well, I’ll say goodnight.” Mrs. Denton turned and ambled away, leaving Danny to close the door behind them on his way to the phone.
King didn’t speak, but Shelby felt the heat of his eyes as she sat rigidly on the sofa, her hands gripping each other painfully. She didn’t want to be alone with King. The room was suddenly too small and stifled with smouldering emotions.
“Afraid of me, Shelby?” he asked, shattering the silence with the low, cold question.
“No,” she said softly.
“Then look at me.”
She raised her elfin face slowly, her huge brown eyes meeting his across the distance. His eyes darkened, narrowed. He lifted the cigarette to his lips without releasing her from the penetrating gaze that suddenly, inexplicably made her heart cut cartwheels.
“This engagement is rather sudden, isn’t it?” he asked finally in a conversational tone. “You and Danny have known each other for over two years; time enough to spare for getting engaged.”
“It…uh, it just…happened like that,” she said helplessly.
He studied her in a smouldering silence. “You’ll never make him happy,” he said. “He needs a sparrow, not a peacock.”
She tore her eyes away. “I’m not a peacock.”
“Hell,” he swore impatiently, “you know you’re beautiful, I don’t have to tell you. But looks don’t matter much in marriage. There are more important things; common interests, caring, commitment. I doubt seriously that you’re capable of any of them.”
“You don’t know me, King,” she said quietly.
“Like mother, like daughter,” he said harshly. “How many husbands has ‘mama’ gone through—five, six? All that beauty, and every bit of it’s surface. She’s like you, butterfly—delicate, ornamental, and utterly useless. You’d take to ranch life as easily as you’d take to shooting white water on the river.”
She felt her face going red at the cold insolence in the remarks. As if he knew anything about her! He’d never taken the time or the trouble to find out what she was really like, avoiding her presence at the ranch for the most part as if she’d been invisible. She bit her lower lip to still its trembling. “Danny won’t live on the ranch,” she hedged softly.
“Hell, no, he won’t, as long as he’s got this misguided passion for you!” he lashed at her, his dark eyes narrow and burning. “Why don’t you just let him get it out of his system?”
She went, if possible, redder. Her whole body trembled as she got to her feet. It was worse than a beating, having to sit and be degraded with those cold insults.
“You’ll never marry him, Shelby,” he said as she reached for the doorknob. “I promise you. No matter what I have to do to stop it, I will.”
She held onto the doorknob with fingers that went white under the strain.
“Nothing to say, Shelby?” he growled.
She opened the door and went out of the room, closing it gently behind her.
Danny came out of the den with a worried frown on his smooth face.
“Oh, there you are,” he said abruptly. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “She’s coming tomorrow to go to the festival with us,” he grumbled. “It was King’s idea, I’d stake my life on it. She said he rode over to talk to her father this afternoon. Probably he went to sic her on me.”
She smiled at the exasperation she read in his face, calming now that she was away from King’s disturbing influence.
She laid a hand on his sleeve. “She?”
His lips made a thin line. “Mary Kate Culhane,” he said shortly. “She’s two years younger than I am, and blonde, and she can outrope most any cowboy. Her father owns the ranch that adjoins ours. What a great merging of empires there could be. And all we have to sacrifice for the merger is me.”
“To Mary Kate Culhane?” she probed with a grin.
“Exactly.” He sighed, glancing at her sheepishly. “Now you know why you’re here, and why we’re engaged.”
“Would King really do that?” she asked solemnly.
“Sure! So would Mom and Dad.”
She drew in a quick breath. “I can’t believe it!”
“You don’t know what the prospect of mergers and heirs does to normally sane people,” he told her, shaking his head. “They know King isn’t about to make the supreme sacrifice—not anytime soon, and definitely not with Mary Kate. But I’m the youngest. I’m expendable. I’m the Judas goat.”
“Oh, poor boy,” she laughed softly.
“You don’t know the half of it. But you will tomorrow.” He looked down at her, then it suddenly dawned on him that the door to the living room was closed. He glanced toward it, then back at her. “Why are you out here?”
Her slender shoulders lifted and fell helplessly. “Can’t you guess?” she asked with wry humor.
“He let you have it, huh?” he asked.
“Both barrels.”
“What did he say?”
She stared down at the carpet. “Never mind. It wasn’t important,” she said softly. Her huge doe eyes went up to Danny’s. “He can’t help the way he feels, Danny. You don’t really have to have reasons for disliking people. And my mother isn’t the best character recommendation around.”
“You’re nothing like your mother,” he grumbled.
“King doesn’t know that. He doesn’t really know me at all, and circumstantial evidence can be damning, as you well know. Anyway, does it matter? He’s just upset because I don’t belong to your kind of world.”
“For God’s sake, Shelby, we’re not snobs!”
“I know that, Danny, but we move in different circles. My mother’s the rich lady, not me, remember? My friends are mostly writers and artists and ‘peculiar’ people.” She smiled. “I like to sit in coffee shops and drink imported coffee at one o’clock in the morning while Edie recites 18th century poetry. Mostly I do that in jeans and a sweatshirt. I wouldn’t know what to do at cattle ranching—although I have to admit it fascinates me.”
He smiled. “We don’t have that many parties around here, and I hang out in jeans, myself.”
“The price of one pair of your jeans,” she teased, “would buy six pairs of mine.”
He looped his arms around her waist and stared down at her affectionately. “You,” he told her, “are a pain. You’ve been hanging around Edie for too long.”
“I’m glad we’re not really getting
married,” she told him seriously. “I like you too much.”
He frowned. “You’ve got some weird ideas about marriage,” he said.
“My mother hasn’t been too successful at it,” she reminded him. “Although it looks like she’s going to keep trying until she gets the hang of it,” she added with humor that concealed a great hurt. The other children at school had enjoyed teasing her about the number and frequency of her “fathers.” It had hurt then, and the years between hadn’t lessened the sting. King’s cold remark about it tonight had brought it all back, and she felt like the lonely little girl hiding behind chairs at cocktail parties.
“Don’t look so sad,” Danny said gently. “I won’t leave you alone with King again. It’ll all be over before you know it, and once I’ve got Mary Kate out of the picture, I’ll tell everybody the truth about us. Fair enough?”
She smiled. “Fair enough.”
He bent and kissed her gently on the forehead, just as the sound of a door opening broke into the companionable silence.
“It’s one in the morning,” King said coolly. “Why don’t you two go to bed and do that in private?”
Danny scowled at him. “We don’t sleep together,” he said gruffly.
One dark eyebrow went up. “No?” he asked with a pointed glance at Shelby. “I’m surprised. I thought models were liberated.”
Shelby pulled away from Danny. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she told him softly, ignoring King with a graceful dignity far beyond her years. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, honey,” Danny said.
She felt King’s eyes as she went up the stairs. Angry voices were coming from the hall when she reached the top.
She slept fitfully, waking long before the housekeeper, Mrs. Denton, came to rouse her for breakfast.
“I’ll bet I’ve seen every movie your mother ever made,” the buxom housekeeper said enthusiastically, leading the way downstairs with her heavy, ambling tread. “She’s a very good actress.”
“Thank you,” Shelby murmured, her eyes on the housekeeper’s broad back.