“This time of day?” Grace put on her glasses and tried to look as if Ben hadn’t walked in and witnessed an exam of a different kind. “She’s probably at the guest ranch. The Ziglers checked out yesterday and she finally managed to hire a part-time housekeeper.”
Ben and Ethan each drove their own vehicles to the ranch, stopping at the main house. Katie’s truck was there, but she wasn’t. They traipsed over to the guest lodge.
“Big E could be on his way back from Nevada right now.” Ethan sounded hopeful. That was the thing about Ethan, he often seemed to look at the bright side.
“If he comes back, he’ll fight you for control of the ranch,” Ben pointed out. “Are you prepared to be an employee of his?”
Ethan’s face set in hard lines. “That will never happen.”
“At the very least, he’d want you to pay rent on that space in the barn you want for your practice.” Ben glanced down at the dust lining his Italian loafers.
Rachel would give him grief if she saw his shoes. She’d call him Blackwell and take a jab at big city lawyers and their impractical attire. He’d give her guff for making fun of his shoes and his running tights, smile his way into her arms and kiss her.
Kiss her...
The dynamics of kissing Rachel had changed with Zoe’s return. Not that Ben cared if Zoe knew he found Rachel attractive and loveable. But Rachel cared. He could tell by the stilted way she’d treated him once Zoe entered the law office.
Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of Rachel. Ben cleared his throat, focused on the problem ahead of him and offered Ethan more insight into the mind of their grandfather. “Big E might want a percentage of your billings. Worst case, he’d ask you to vacate.”
“Were you always this negative?” Ethan lengthened his stride, trying to pull away from Ben. “Or is this pessimism you developed in New York?”
“This is your lawyer watching your back,” Ben snapped, easily keeping up with his twin.
Anyone spotting them would do a double take—two men with the same long-legged stride, similar scowling faces and the same dark walnut hair marching across the plain, one wearing cowboy boots, worn jeans and a baseball cap, the other wearing dress slacks, a crisply pressed shirt and tie. All they needed to be meme-worthy was another oddity—a black bull and a tall black stallion walking docilely beside them. Or a Thompson, holding a Blackwell’s hand, and a baby.
That’s your dream, boy.
And dreams, by Ben’s recollection, didn’t come true.
“I would have watched your back five years ago if you’d have told me,” Ethan said stubbornly. “You can’t blame me for a choice you made on your own. I didn’t ask you to lie for me.”
The truth of his brother’s words left a bitter taste in Ben’s throat, one he had to swallow because he wasn’t willing to let that grudge go just yet. “Ethan, you need to draw up a contract with terms of operation. You need every brother to sign it. And you need it done before Big E comes back.”
“I hope he takes the long road home from Nevada,” Ethan mumbled, settling his ball cap lower on his head. “You’ll help me draft something?”
“Of course.” It was easier to help his brother than to forgive him.
They found Katie and the part-time housekeeper tossing used bed linens over the second-floor railing. The pile was growing near where Ben and Ethan had come in. Hip was frolicking in the sheets and pillow cases as if it was fresh snow.
“Can someone find me another able body to clean this place?” Katie called out. “I should be riding out to the eastern pasture to check on the herd. But no. There are twelve guests checking in tomorrow and—”
“Grace and I could help by making beds again,” Ethan interrupted, swiping a hand through the air as if indicating a clean slate. “But I draw the line at cleaning showers and toilets.”
Katie frowned.
“Where did the divorce papers come from, Katie?” Ben demanded, uninterested in the guest ranch business. He darted around the laundry and climbed the grand staircase. “And who told you to deliver them today?”
“I got a text midmorning telling me to pack her things and that there was a packet of paperwork waiting at the post office.” Katie brushed stray strands of red hair behind her ears. “And I was more than happy to do so. I’ve spent years with Zoe’s designer boots pressing on my throat.” Katie tugged at the neck of her tan Blackwell Guest Ranch polo shirt.
“Big E texted you?” Ben reached the second-floor landing, Ethan hot on his heels.
“Yes.” Katie produced a cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
Ben peered over Katie’s shoulder. There was just one message in the thread:
Revoke Zoe’s rights as a Blackwell. Pack her personal belongings. Pick up legal docs at the post office. Deliver everything to her attorney. Carry on.
“That isn’t Big E’s phone number.” Ethan had been reading over Katie’s other shoulder. “It’s a Texas area code.”
“And it’s not signed,” Ben pointed out. “How do you know it’s from Big E?”
“Carry on.” Katie toggled to another text thread and showed them her screen. “Granted, these are from over two months ago, but that’s how Big E signs off on his texts.”
“I wish you would have told us first thing.” Ethan poked his head into an empty room, gathered an armload of towels embroidered with the ranch’s brand and tossed them over the railing opposite to where the dog was.
“Telling you was on my list of things to do today.” Katie glanced below. Hip was still rolling on her back in the dirty linens, feet in the air. “Just as soon as we got all the laundry started.”
It was hard to find fault in what Katie did when she was overseeing the bulk of the ranch.
“At least we know Big E isn’t in danger.” The feeling of elation Ben had enjoyed on the drive from town was fading. “The text proves that. He’s probably celebrating his bachelorhood.”
Ethan gave Ben a wry grin. “Reality is, Big E is probably picking out a wedding ring for the next Mrs. Elias Blackwell.”
“This solves nothing.” Ben stared at the pile of linens on the ground floor. There was still the water rights to contend with, not to mention the lack of funds and staff.
“It doesn’t,” Ethan agreed. “But admit it, you’re happy Zoe got dumped.”
Ben was. He just wished he’d had more time with Rachel before his ex-fiancée had come back to town.
* * *
“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?” Nana Nancy cocked her head and lowered her knitting needles.
Rachel had come out to the ranch in the late afternoon, avoiding the planned meeting with Ben and giving Zoe time alone at the house. Rachel needed distance from him, even if it was only distance for a day.
Rachel’s mother glanced up from the quilt pieces she was sewing together. “It sounds like pounding.”
Even Poppy stopped what she was doing, pulling the teething ring from her mouth and rolling from her back to her belly.
Rachel scribbled the tally she was making of the number of calves born last year and looked out the window. “That’s odd. Henry’s truck is gone.” And Tony wasn’t due back at the ranch until Thursday.
The pounding stopped.
“Hmm.” Mom went back to her quilting.
“Huh.” Nana went back to her knitting.
“Gah.” Poppy rolled onto her back and gnawed on her teething ring.
Outside, there was a clank of metal on metal.
Rachel got up and went into the mudroom to don her mother’s pink-and-gold trimmed boots. Somebody had to investigate. What if it was the water company?
In her cream suit and teal blouse, Rachel scanned the horizon, looking for an unfamiliar vehicle. There was none. She searched the barn. The ranch’s half dozen horses greeted her. She walked out the back door and found an intruder. “Ben? What a
re you doing?”
He stood at the entrance to the road, oiling the latch on the gate, which hung straight on securely fastened hinges. There were tools on the ground and the big black stallion was tied to a fence post a few feet away.
Ben gave her a wave and a half smile. “I didn’t want the heifer to come back and eat what’s left of Nana Nancy’s vegetables.”
Rachel didn’t want to admit there were no more vegetables to be eaten. The heifer had demolished the entire garden, much to her grandmother’s chagrin. Rachel didn’t want to admit that his small act of kindness brought tears to her eyes. No one had offered to do anything extra around the ranch to help her. No one.
Ben bent his head, testing the latch until it moved smoothly. He was wearing blue jeans and boots and a soft blue chambray shirt. He looked like a ranch hand, not a lawyer. He looked like he’d never seen Times Square and didn’t care if he ever did.
He looks like he’ll stay.
Rachel was in desperate need of air. She wanted to head back into the barn, shut the door and forget she’d ever seen Ben.
In that moment, Ben straightened, closed the gate and lifted his gaze to hers. “I think I owe you an apology.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for fixing that gate.” She marched forward before she realized what she was doing. “Don’t you dare.” She stopped five feet away from him and crossed her arms over her chest. What was wrong with the man?
Ben rested his forearms on the top bar and took his time about replying. “I’m not going to apologize for that.” His mouth curled into a slow smile. “I think...what happened at the office—”
“Was completely my fault.” Rachel’s arms pressed tighter into her chest. “I was out of line.”
He grinned. “Feel free to step over that line anytime.”
Rachel felt as limp as a noodle. But there was Zoe and Poppy and all her other responsibilities, and a heart she had no time to have broken. “Ben...”
“I understand why you stood me up today. I scared you.” His words hung in the air between them for a second, as if he needed to take them in as well. “That’s what I was going to apologize for. Truth be told, I think I scared myself a little, too.”
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, we were friends for so long and this...” She gestured between the two of them “There was nothing before.”
“There was the debate competition.” His gaze drank her in. “There was the morning after prom when Andy broke up with you.”
She cherished the comfort he’d offered her on both days. Had he done the same? “And there was the day after your parents died.”
“In some ways, you were my rock.” He nodded slowly. “Guys are stupid when they’re young.”
“When they’re older than twelve?” Rachel gently teased. Somehow, she’d moved closer to the gate. Closer to him.
“When they’re teenagers and they go for looks, not substance. Certainly not inner beauty.”
Rachel knew she should argue that statement. Defend Zoe. Take offense to the fact that she wasn’t as good-looking as her best friend. But she knew the truth. Zoe was lovely. And Zoe knew she was lovely. And when they were teenagers, Zoe had capitalized on that fact.
“Now, men...” Ben ran the back of his hand over her cheek and it was all Rachel could do not to lean into his touch “...men can see the inner strength that enhances the outer beauty.” His hand settled at the curve of her neck and his voice turned husky. “I can see your strength, Thompson. I’m old enough to appreciate it now.”
Standing in her mother’s ridiculous boots and wearing a court suit, Rachel should have felt like Henry’s little lady. She didn’t. She couldn’t. Not when Ben had captured her gaze and her heart, and convinced her that love was scary the second time around, but it didn’t have to be. Not if they fell together.
She climbed on the bottom rung of the gate and tilted her face up for a kiss.
He smiled down at her, amusement in his blue eyes. “I could get used to you being around all the time, Thompson.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Blackwell.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TUESDAY AFTERNOON, RACHEL walked into the county courthouse, carrying the custody papers and Poppy.
Zoe trailed behind Rachel, having claimed she was too tense to sit at home alone and the day was too hot to wait in the truck, even in the shade. She wore bright yellow capris and a purple blouse. She’d pulled her hair into a bouncy high ponytail and applied a careful coat of makeup. After a bath and a good night’s sleep, she looked much more like herself, although it had taken her all morning to do so.
Rachel felt out of sorts. Her hair felt windblown and dirty from the ride with the windows down. She couldn’t find her lipstick anywhere in her purse. And Poppy lay limp as a rag doll, drooling on her shoulder. Her daughter had woken up stuffy and fussy. Ted’s mother was busy today and Rachel’s mother was taking Nana to a doctor’s appointment in Livingston. Having Zoe stay home and watch her baby wasn’t an option.
She should be floating on cloud nine. Ben had kissed her. Several times. He’d said he could get used to kissing her more often. But kisses—although quite nice—hadn’t answered any of Rachel’s questions, the utmost being, could she rely on Ben?
Edith Frankel looked up from the counter. She had gold crowns that flashed when she smiled and thick glasses that sometimes caught the light, making it seem as if she had blank, alien eyes. “Look at that sweet baby. She’s all tuckered out.”
“Yes,” Rachel agreed. “She’s fighting a cold.”
Edith smiled. “I was wondering when you might drop by.”
Rachel wondered if Edith was a mind reader. More likely, Ted had told someone he’d signed custody papers, and that person had told someone they knew in the legal system, who’d told Edith. Falcon County was large in land mass, but small in body count. News traveled fast. “I want to file these signed custody papers.”
“Oh.” Edith seemed surprised. But she checked the document thoroughly, stamped it with the date and time and proceeded to enter it into the computer system.
“Is this where divorces happen?” Zoe stared at the plain, dated office. “I thought it’d be grander.” Much of the anger had drained from Rachel’s best friend. She’d been quiet during the ride to the courthouse.
“Divorces don’t have any pomp and ceremony,” Rachel said kindly, rubbing Poppy’s back. “Not like weddings.”
“We were married in Las Vegas.” Zoe’s gaze turned distant. “At a beautiful chapel overlooking the fountains at the Bellagio.”
“My sister was married in Vegas at an Elvis-themed wedding chapel.” Edith looked up at them. The light caught her lenses, making them milky white. “She filed for divorce there, too, after her husband left her.” Her gaze dropped to her computer screen, and her green eyes came back into view. “Boy, was that divorce quick. And it only required my sister’s signature, since that deadbeat Paul was AWOL. You know, in Nevada, you only have a couple of weeks to respond. Doesn’t matter if you do or don’t, though. If someone wants a divorce there, they get it.”
All Rachel’s talk to Zoe about reconciliation... It didn’t matter. Big E had gone to Nevada. He wanted a no-contest divorce.
“When was the Preakness?” The question tumbled out of Rachel quicker than the hair rising up on the back of her neck. How much time did Zoe have to challenge the prenup?
“A week...” Wide-eyed, Zoe had that deer-in-the-headlights look, the one Rachel assumed was mirrored on her face. “No, ten days ago...” And then anger, Zoe’s most ready defense, surfaced. She narrowed her eyes, tightened her lips. “That coward. He couldn’t even say it to my face.”
Edith handed over Rachel’s receipt. “On to the next matter.”
Balancing Poppy, Rachel hesitated. Had she forgotten a document from another case?
The clerk put her s
tamp beneath the counter and slipped her pen into a large blue coffee mug that said Court Clerk Rock Star. “He didn’t file anything.”
If Edith was referring to Ted... Rachel drew Poppy closer.
“Who?” Zoe asked before Rachel could. “Big E?”
“No. Oh, no.” Edith brushed imaginary dust off the counter with one thin hand. “His lawyer. Ben Blackwell.”
Rachel’s neck twinged, and her mind whirled. “Edith, why would you expect Ben to file any documents here?”
“I had lunch with Mona today and she said he was at her office again this morning doing a title search on the Blackwell property—” she eyed Rachel over her thick lenses “—and the Double T. And I hear he was searching for records at the county library as well. I expected there to be some kind of suit filed.”
Yesterday, Ben had kissed her. He’d held her. He’d been so kind she’d fallen in love with him.
And he was going to take her to court.
Rachel sagged against the counter. The linoleum beneath her feet seemed as insubstantial as quicksand.
“Rachel.” Zoe’s voice sounded muffled. “Rachel?”
Rachel held up a hand, needing a moment. The events of the past few days were a blur. Rachel had it all wrong. She’d kissed Ben. She’d hugged Ben. All he’d done was trick her into falling in love with him.
They hadn’t spoken about water rights. She hadn’t wanted to. He’d played her as deftly as he’d played Darnell. She wasn’t thinking about legal issues, personal or professional. She’d been thinking about Ben and a pair of sturdy shoulders to lean on.
Rachel’s blood was boiling, making her cheeks heat and her body sweat. She’d been a fool.
As soon as she could trust her legs to hold, Rachel thanked Edith, hitched a sleeping Poppy higher on her shoulder and headed for the exit. Despite the sun, despite the heat inside and out, Rachel felt like she was in a haze. Nothing was clear. Nothing was certain. Not her footsteps. Not her feelings. Not her future.
“Are you okay?” Zoe trotted next to her. “What’s going on? What did she mean?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know.” Even that short reply took effort.
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