Shane was managing to hold down his temper only by a thread—or maybe his anger was made of something else. Being revealed did that to a man.
“If you’re trying to be neighborly,” he said, attempting civility, “it isn’t working.”
“As you said before, this isn’t about being a good neighbor. And if it isn’t, then what is it about, Shane? Why would you lift a finger to help me if you didn’t have to? Why did you look at me as if you were crumbling up inside when you told me about that land offer?”
He just shook his head, putting on his shirt.
“You try so hard, don’t you?” she said.
“To what?”
“To pretend that coming back to the house where your dad lived doesn’t affect you. Well, he can’t define you anymore, Shane. Nothing should dictate our lives, whether it’s a bad ghost or a land deal.”
He got out the door before he could hear another word.
Or before he could look back at a woman who had become much more than a neighbor.
Too much more.
SOON, SHANE WAS BACK on the ranch, skidding his pickup to a stop in front of the house, where he could be alone, then mounting the steps and banging through the entry.
He didn’t know where he was going, but once again, he passed the family room with that recliner in front of the TV. Even now, it was just as if someone was still sitting in it.
Nicki’s words kept coming back to him.
He can’t define you anymore….
Shane knew at that moment what he wanted to do, what he’d been afraid to do because of what his father would’ve said to him when he was alive.
So you couldn’t do anything about saving the ranch yourself. I’m not surprised. You’ve never been made of the right stuff.
Well, Shane knew something or two, and it was that real men took care of others, even at the expense of their own dignity. He wasn’t going to lose this ranch and see that his father’s “loser” statements came true.
Still, the very thought of losing his pride, not his land, got to Shane, and his anger spiked as it never had before.
In a blind rage, he charged into the room, picked up the chair, smashed it to the floor.
That didn’t do much damage at first, but Shane went at it as if he could crush every word, every punch, every bruise away.
Soon enough, he was spent, and so was that chair.
He looked at it, running a hand down his face. Skeletal remains, wood and fabric, spilled all over the floor.
Then, with a calm he hadn’t felt in any other place but when he was with Nicki, he collected the bits and pieces, transferring them to the back porch, where he’d haul them away tomorrow.
When he returned to the family room, Shane sat on the couch. His chair.
His own damned man.
THE NEXT MORNING, in a luxury beach cottage near San Diego, Candace sat on a leather couch where she could look out the sliding glass doors and see the waves lapping up to the shore below.
A forty-something woman walked into the room, dressed in a cashmere sweater and wool slacks, her dark hair in a chignon. She bore a silver tea tray, setting it down on the marble coffee table just before she poured for Candace.
“Soon, we’ll have champagne instead of tea,” she said, giving Candace her steaming cup plus its saucer.
Candace couldn’t hold back a smile as the woman, Leigh Brickell, took a seat on the couch, too. They both lifted their cups to each other.
“Here’s to Professor Adams for introducing us way back when,” Candace said. “And here’s to a great future for the Square W+W.”
They drank, and Leigh put her cup and saucer on the table, taking up a bundle of papers that were printed with color pictures featuring horses and ranch landscapes—shots of the W+W that Candace had culled from her computer, capturing all the memories she’d had over the years.
“You sure know how to do a heartstring-tugging proposal.” Leigh handed the papers over. “You came along just as we were beginning to look for land to house this project. Your ranch will be perfect for it.”
Candace rested her cup and saucer on the table, too, taking back the proposal.
Her throat got tight when she saw the front page, because she knew just what was underneath: sketches and descriptions of the W+W in the future, a riding camp for Leigh Brickell’s first and foremost passion—autistic children. Once Candace had thought of how she would approach the philanthropist, it’d all come together. The W+W had always been about making kids happy, being a home for their laughter. Now, with Leigh’s formidable contacts and her charity works, the ranch could allow the children to commune with the animals, bringing them out of their shells.
This whole strategy had totally displaced her anger with Russell. As soon as Candace had pulled Leigh Brickell’s information from the files she’d kept on every networking function she’d attended, she had rushed to the city with her laptop, getting in contact with a friend to see if she could crash at her apartment for a short time. Then she had gotten to work on the proposal, researching the benefits of pairing animals and autistic children.
Then she had taken a deep breath and contacted Leigh.
Candace had also phoned Nicki, leaving a message about what she was up to, but in the vaguest terms possible. It was just that Candace hadn’t wanted to raise Nicki’s hopes about anything yet—namely, the reason she’d gone to the city—so she’d kept information to a minimum. She couldn’t let Nicki down so soon after her last disappointment.
Candace hugged the papers to her chest. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It is, and I’d like to get the contracts going ASAP.”
“You bet.” Candace had contacts from business school she could consult with for the legalities. “I’ll get on it today.”
Right after she brought the news to Nicki.
They finished their tea, brainstorming new ideas for the ranch, and Candace got more and more excited as the morning went on.
Finally, though, it was time to leave.
The first thing she did after getting in her old but still shiny Saturn was to call Nicki. She drove a short way down the palm-shaded lane, pulled off to the side and punched in the number.
When she answered, Candace couldn’t help herself.
“Saved!” she said, raising her free hand in the air.
And she went on to tell the whole story.
Even though Nicki was overjoyed, she still asked, “Is everyone going to be able to stay on at the ranch?”
“Absolutely. Leigh wants people who know animals to be there. And the best thing about it is that there won’t be a spa anywhere on the property.”
“So we’ll all still be a family…but an even bigger one.” Nicki’s voice broke. “You did it, Candy. You really did it.”
Throat clogged again, Candace expected Nicki to be doing a victory dance on her end of the line, but she was far quieter than that.
“I just wish…” Nicki said.
“What?” What could possibly be wrong? “It’s Shane.”
Nicki told Candace all about the Lyon Group making an offer for the Slanted C.
“He doesn’t want it,” Nicki said. “He never let on how bad it was over there, and he doesn’t have a choice.”
Candace got the same adrenaline rush that she’d experienced that night after Russell had dumped her—the moment her brain had kicked into gear and led her to connect the Square W+W with Leigh Brickell.
“There’s always a choice,” Candace said, just before hanging up, starting her car’s engine and turning around, back to Leigh Brickell’s home.
12
SHANE WAS JUST CLEANING UP the remains of the chair on the porch when Walter sauntered up to him, nudging back his hat and propping his boot on the lowest step. His knee popped as he moved.
“In this fight,” the old man said in that rusty-hinge voice, “I’m gonna guess that you came out the winner.”
Shane tossed a seat cushion in
to the bed of his pickup, which he’d backed up to the porch. “It was time to clear some things out of here.”
“What happened?” Walter asked.
“I got sick of looking at this piece of garbage.”
The old man smiled to himself, nodding, as if he’d been waiting for Shane to, someday, come around to this.
Shane finished with the chair and shoved the pickup bed’s door back into place.
Walter said, “You couldn’t work this all out unless you came back to the ranch, Shane. Back to this house.”
“How do you know everything is hunky dory now? It was just a chair, Walter.”
“Oh, don’t treat me like an ancient poop. You’ve been improving day by day, if you ask me. Coming back has done you good. And, as awful as this might be for me to say, you’ve got a new stride these days because your dad isn’t around to critique it.”
Walter hadn’t been blind. Shane just felt fortunate that there weren’t any other old-timers left on the ranch to have borne witness to the so-called good days.
The old man cleared his throat. “I also thought this new way of carrying yourself had something to do with a little miss from the W+W.”
Here it went.
“I saw Nicki Wade’s pickup here the other night,” Walter added, “and it didn’t leave until the next morning.”
Shane held up a finger. “You keep that mum. The last thing I want is for her name to be dragged through the mud.”
“Oh, yessir.” Walter tapped his battered boot on the step. “She and those curls could hold a soft spot in any heart, Shane. Is she coming over again anytime soon?”
“Doubtful.” Shane tried to avoid the pain in his gut, even though he knew it was coming. “There’ve been some…complications with Nicki. And don’t wag your finger at me saying you knew I was going to leave her in the dust someday, because that’s not…”
Not what? How it had happened?
Now that Shane allowed himself to think about it, he’d put Nicki through the same routine as any other woman—wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, see ya later. The difference was he’d been emotional this time. He might not even have left her if she hadn’t forced him out with all that honesty about his father.
Walter lowered his tone. “Then tell me what did happen to get you all riled up like this.”
Shane wasn’t about to say a word about Nicki.
So he went ahead and told Walter about the money possibly being called in—maybe even today—and what he’d have to do with the ranch. If what Russell Alexander had told him was true, then everyone was about to find out, anyway, and Walter deserved to be one of the first to hear the news.
“All I’ve got now,” Shane said, “is the need to negotiate with the Lyon Group. Mom would still like this house and a patch of property to go with it, if the group will agree to that.”
“Really?” Walter said sarcastically. “That’s all you’ve got now is a fighting spirit?”
When Shane hitched his thumbs into his belt loops, Walter chuffed.
“I watched you throughout the years, going from a little scamp to an oversexed teenager,” he said. “I saw a lot I didn’t like about your growing up—the way your dad treated you, the way he drove you off with his attitude and actions. It’d be a shame to see you run off from this ranch again, especially after you’ve matured enough to shove all that negativity right back at Barry Carter, whether he sees it or not. He ain’t here now, but it counts, Shane. Believe that.”
Shane lowered his hands from his belt loops. “How much of a choice is there? What else is there to do besides give the Lyon Group what they want? I’m not going to leave anyone on this ranch in the lurch by refusing an offer that won’t come from anyone else.”
“Boy, have you bothered to look around you to see what’s really here?”
Shane had no idea what that meant.
Walter rolled his eyes. “I’m not blind. I knew how this place was faring, but I didn’t stick my nose deep into matters when you came along. You were perfectly capable. Knowing what I know now, though, I’d suggest to you that this Russell Alexander character might have some sway with your creditors.”
“Are you intimating that, if he’s not lying about the loans outright, he’s using the creditors to put pressure on me?”
Walter shrugged. “Whatever the case is, you’ve got avenues right here in town that you might not have considered.”
Bristling, Shane asked, “What do you mean?”
“Everyone hasn’t been blind to the economics. Tommy sold off a lot of our stock, laid off a lot of the staff. He was like your father, you know—uncaring about the families on the Slanted C. When you came back, people started talking, and there was a general sense of…”
“What?”
“Well, that things could change, and that they would help you with that if you needed it. All you have to do is reach out to a few folks, Shane, even if the thought of it kills you.”
Shane fisted his hands by his side as Walter went on.
“Lemuel Matthews, for one, has a real nest egg. He socked away a lot of money from those detective novels he wrote. I have a bit tucked away, too. Not enough to cover what you have to manage here, but…”
He trailed off, and Shane burned with mortification. He was even a little stunned. No one cared that he might not be man enough to raise the Slanted C up again?
They wanted to help?
“You just have to say something,” Walter said. “Unless you’re just as bullheaded as that dead dad of yours.”
Walter gave a pointed glance to the destroyed chair in the pickup, insinuating that Shane would probably rather trash the house than settle into it as a legacy of Barry Carter.
As the older man walked away, optimism rose in Shane’s chest, probably for the first time in his life. If he swallowed his pride, calling on Lemuel, there might be a chance in hell of hope…
Then he could get in touch with Russell Alexander. And when Alexander heard Shane’s rejection, why…
Shane exhaled. The Lyon Group might just make an offer to Nicki, and she could either have the satisfaction of turning the snake down or getting all she could out of him, although he doubted it with what Candace had told her.
But that would be all that Shane could give her. He only wished it could be more.
He could hardly believe it—Shane Carter, the world’s worst candidate for affection finally had a meaningful crush.
It sounded like a good thing, but he knew in his heart that, underneath every role he’d played with her, he’d only been a true disaster after being stripped down to the bare essentials last night. Why should he expect himself to be anything else in the future?
He went inside the house, and even as the sun shone over the hills, there was a dark sore patch that remained right in the center of him.
Right where he was trying to forget Nicki.
Even when he got the call from Candace, he was still hurting, although what she had to say should’ve lessened the pain.
NICKI WAS ON PINS and needles as she put together lunch for Candace and her, slathering crusty rolls with mayonnaise and layering them with cheeses, veggies and lunch meats.
She should be over the moon, with Candace’s last-minute save for both the W+W and now, maybe, possibly, the Slanted C. And she might’ve been if only her every thought wasn’t tinged by Shane himself.
Even now, what had happened between them last night made her stomach churn.
In fact, she had stayed up all night, thinking of what she’d said to Shane in the barn about his dad. Would he ever forgive her?
Good God, maybe a better question was if he would ever want to be near her again.
Almost mindlessly, she plated the sandwiches and brought them to the small kitchen table. She was just getting a couple of celebratory orange sodas out of the fridge when Candace barged in through the back porch door, the screen banging against the frame.
“It’s a beautiful day!” she said, raising her h
ands above her head, her fashion-plate leather work bag swinging from her shoulder.
She looked like a winner, in her red business suit and stylish two-toned pumps. But Candace had always been that way—she didn’t have to just dress the part.
Nicki smiled, rushing to Candace to give her a big, thankful bear hug.
“Whoa,” Candace said, laughing, pulling away.
“I missed you while you were gone,” Nicki said, sitting at the table.
Candace followed. “Same here.”
While she gave Nicki a fond look, she zeroed in on her, too, as if peeking into what really lay beneath.
Nicki wasn’t about to ruin this. She should be cheering, damn it.
“Did you call Shane?” she asked, his name catching in her chest.
“You bet I did, but only after I talked to Leigh about the possibility of putting both of our ranches together. She was ecstatic. She’s already got plans for the Slanted C’s lake. Can you imagine what kind of fun those kids will have with it?”
Nicki nodded, unable to speak. Their ranches, joined. They could be more than neighbors or…whatever they were or weren’t to each other now.
“He sounded relieved,” Candace said, “just as much as I was when I realized we weren’t going to have to go dude. Just as much as you, too, I imagine.”
“So he’s on board.”
“He’s definitely on board.” Candace hugged Nicki this time, her words muffled by Nicki’s hair. “This all happened so fast, and I didn’t want to let you in on the details until I knew that Leigh was interested. I didn’t want to raise your hopes because, Lord knows, you’ve had enough to deal with.”
Nicki squeezed Candace all the harder, until they pulled back from each other.
“Survivors,” Nicki said.
“All of us, together.” Candace eyed the sandwiches on the table, as if she were famished. “I just wish I could see Russell Alexander’s face when the paperwork comes through. Heck—I wish I could gloat in front of him right now, after Shane calls him and tells him to stick his offer where the sun don’t shine. Did you know Russell came up with the whole dude resort idea? This setback’s going to smart for him.”
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