by Sandra Brown
"Hell or high water or your own stubborn pride couldn't have kept either of you from falling in love with the women you fell in love with. Why should Sage be any different? She's a Tyler, too. She knows her heart and mind better than anyone else does. You have no right to interfere."
"We just don't want her to be hurt."
"Neither do I. But if she is, you couldn't have prevented it no matter what you did." She pondered the contents of her wineglass for a moment. "Do you think the incident with Harlan was isolated, or are they still sleeping together?"
"I got the feeling today that they haven't been. She referred to 'Harlan's room.' Whenever she mentioned him, it was in a business context."
"Hmm."
"You sound disappointed. Do you really think anything could come of that, Marcie?"
"Stranger things have happened."
"Spoken like a woman," he muttered with exasperation. "What does your woman's intuition tell you about him?"
"That he's very intelligent, more than he lets on. He's not afraid of hard work."
"I mean where women are concerned."
"Ah, where women are concerned." She steepled her index fingers and tapped her lips. "Well, as Devon said, much to Lucky's aggravation, he's sexy and gorgeous." Her eyes wandered to Chase's glowering face. "But not as sexy and gorgeous as you."
"Go on," he muttered, somewhat mollified.
"I think he must have lived through something very painful. He's still running away from it. Something or someone hurt him terribly. That's why he always stays on the fringes of any close group. He's personable, but guarded. An observer, but not an actual participant."
"I've noticed that too. Do you think a woman hurt him?"
"One can only guess."
"What would you guess?"
"I'd guess a woman."
"I thought so," he said unhappily. "I hope he's not punishing the entire female population, including Sage Tyler, for what one rotten female did to him."
"It could go either way." Chase looked at her quizzically, so she expounded on her theory. "That kind of emotional pain can either result in extraordinary cruelty or extraordinary sensitivity. I can't imagine Harlan being cruel, can you?"
"No. But who knows? We might not have seen him at his worst."
"Possibly, but you're overlooking a clue into his character."
"What?"
"He was the one worried about making Sage pregnant, right? Didn't you tell me that he admitted sleeping with her before anyone even accused him of it? That doesn't sound like a man without scruples who's out to break a woman's heart."
"No, it doesn't. Jeez," he said, running a hand down his face, "I guess we can't do anything more than sit back and watch the cards fall."
"Now you're catching on."
"So anyway, back to business. Where was I? Oh yeah, Sage said today that Harlan wants to come back and actually install a system. He wants to work out all the bugs before we get an order. My little sister must be quite a saleswoman," he said, smiling fondly. "Who would have ever thought she could take off like that and pull it all together?"
"I did," Marcie remarked staunchly.
"It appears that our first sale is imminent. I hope to hell it is. For everybody's sake." He set aside his empty plate and picked up his glass of red wine. "I haven't forgotten our deal, Marcie."
"What deal is that?"
He wasn't fooled by her nonchalance. "The deal we made when we got married."
"Oh, that deal."
Whenever he brought up this subject, she craftily maneuvered the conversation around it. He wasn't going to let her do that this time. "You bailed us out, Marcie, and I haven't forgotten it. Without your money—"
"Our money. It became yours when we got married."
"It was your money. Money you worked hard to earn. I told you when we got married that I intended to pay back every red cent. So far, I haven't been able to. But if we land one of these big contracts that Sage was prattling about today, you'll get your money back."
Leaving her chair, she circled the table and sat down in his lap. "Do you think I care, Chase?"
"I care."
"Your integrity is admirable. It's just one of the millions of reasons why I love you. And always have. Ever since kindergarten."
She bent her head and kissed him meaningfully. When they finally pulled apart, she said softly, "The payoff on my investment has been tremendous, Chase. Look at all I got in return. A healthy, beautiful baby boy and a husband who loves me."
"Well, I'm your husband and I love you. Though sometimes I'm intimidated by your computer brain and totally baffled by your quirky logic."
"Think how bored you'd be otherwise."
"Bored? With you? Never." He slid his hands beneath her sweater. "Hmm. You always feel so warm and soft." Her breasts were heavy with milk. He fondled them gently. She kissed his ear, following the rim of it with the tip of her tongue. "Please, Marcie," he groaned. "Have pity. Cut it out."
"Are you getting hard?" she whispered teasingly.
"Getting hard? I've been miserable for weeks."
"Then don't you think it's time we did something about that?" She reached for his fly and unfastened it.
His eyes swung up to hers. "You mean…?"
"Um-huh."
"Green light?"
She closed her hand around him and smiled seductively. "It doesn't get any greener than this."
* * *
"You look like the cat that just swallowed the canary," Lucky commented as his brother entered the office the following morning.
Chase was humming. His step was springy. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the automatic maker and turned with the cup raised in a toast. "To love and marriage."
Lucky laughed and raised his own coffee mug. They hadn't yet finished their coffee when they heard a car pull up outside. Chase glanced through the window. "It's Sage and Harlan." He gave his younger brother a stern warning. "Stay cool."
Sage came in first, followed by Harlan, who looked reluctant and unsure. Sage gave Chase a hard hug. "It's so good to be home! Milton Point never looked so wonderful. I got a lump in my throat when we drove through downtown."
All her remarks so far had been addressed to Chase. She turned. "Hi, Lucky." Smiling and forgiving, she crossed the office and hugged him too. "How's your arm?"
"It's okay," he said laconically. His arm was still riding in a sling. "Good to have you back, brat."
Chase stepped forward and shook hands with Harlan who was still standing near the door. "Have some coffee."
"No thanks. We stopped a couple of times between here and Dallas." Warily, he looked at Lucky, then moved toward him. "I'm sorry as hell about your arm. I didn't want anything like that to happen."
"I threw the first punch, but I figured you had it coming."
"Well you figured wrong," Sage said, intervening before tempers began to fly again. "Can we please forget all about it? We've got much more to deal with than my personal relationship with Harlan and whatever ramifications it might have." Bashfully, she added, "You'll all be greatly relieved to know that I'm not pregnant. Now, shall we talk shop?"
"Sounds like a good idea," Chase said, drawing up a chair for her. "Show us what you've got."
For the next hour, she filled them in on the results of their trip, detailing their failures as well as their successes.
"Harlan and I are convinced that this is our market."
"These are the people with the money," he contributed. "Even if they don't have it, they know how to get it from people who put together deals."
Glancing over the list of potential clients, Lucky whistled. "These are the head hogs at the trough, all right. I'm impressed."
"For a while there, it was looking grim," Harlan admitted. "We weren't getting anywhere with anybody. Then, the day before yesterday—wasn't it, Sage?—things started turning around. The folks we contacted began listening and were much more receptive."
She tugged on a strand
of her hair. "It was getting rid of the split ends that did it."
"You lost me," Chase said, looking befuddled.
"Inside joke." She waved her hand as though clearing the air. "All the companies on this list are ripe for a follow-up call. Our next step is to have a lawyer draw up a standard contract, so that if we do get a call, we'll be prepared to negotiate. Before leaving Dallas, I had Harlan file a patent application."
"Under whose name?"
Harlan's spine stiffened as he aimed a hard look at Lucky. "Tyler Drilling Company. I may be a despoiler of young women, but I'm not an embezzler."
"Just checking."
Chase held up his right hand in a gesture of peace. "Relax, you two." He turned to Harlan. "How do we stand on the machinery itself?"
"I'd like to lay some pipe and give it several run-throughs. I know that pump will work, but we should have one set up in case somebody wants to see it in operation. 'Course it still needs a timer that can be computed—"
"Lucky can help you with that," Chase said. "Tell him, Lucky."
"While you were gone, I scouted out several possibilities. Turns out that an old buddy of mine just got into the computer business. He's real hungry right now and eating his overhead. I think we can swing a good deal with him if we buy in volume."
"Fantastic!" Sage exclaimed.
"Meanwhile," Chase said to Harlan, "several of the old crew are on standby and chomping at the bit to go to work. We've got a few cleared acres out at the ranch you can play on. Just tell us when you're ready, and I'll show you where to dig."
"I'm ready, but I need transportation."
"Where's your pickup?"
"It expired in Austin," Sage told them as she stood up, zipping her portfolio closed. "We gave it a proper burial. Come on, Harlan, I'll drop you in town. Chase, who's Marcie's business attorney? I'd like to consult with him about a contract as soon as possible."
Chase wrote down the lawyer's name for Sage. They gave Harlan several tips on where he might find a dependable, but inexpensive, used pickup and warned him against the dealerships where he was certain to get ripped off. Then the brothers stood on the office porch and watched the couple drive away.
"She seems all right," Lucky remarked.
"Yeah, she seems fine."
"It took guts for him to come back with her."
"Hmm."
"You've gotta respect a man with that much character."
"As Marcie pointed out last night," Chase said, we would never have known he'd slept with Sage if he hadn't told us himself."
"Unless she had gotten pregnant."
"Thank God that didn't happen."
"Thank God," Lucky repeated.
"They're talking strictly business now."
"Strictly business."
"I guess that whatever was between them is all over."
"Guess so."
They watched the car round the bend and drive out of sight.
"So," Lucky asked, "what do you really think?"
"I think they've got the hots for each other and are fighting it for all they're worth."
"Yeah," Lucky bleakly agreed, "that's what I think, too."
* * *
Harry, the security guard, entered Hardtack's office unannounced. It was early in the morning, before anyone else's business day had begun. His boss habitually arrived well before daylight, working at his desk while there was no one around to interrupt him. This was one interruption he wouldn't mind.
"What have you got?" Hardtack asked. He extended his hand to receive the envelope he expected the guard to have, which he did.
Hardtack pried open the metal brads and dumped the contents onto his desk. The guard was a lousy photographer, but the people he had captured on film were clearly identifiable. He had caught the couple several times, always together. Hardtack wasn't surprised by what he saw, but he was careful to screen his reaction from his employee.
"Are they lovers?" he asked.
"Tough to say, Mr. Hardtack. They shared a room at one hotel, then moved the next morning to another one. They had separate rooms there."
"Interesting. Go on."
"She paid their bills at both places in cash."
"Where are they now?"
"They left town yesterday morning. I followed them to Milton Point. They're both staying at the family home there."
"So she's legit?"
"Very." He summarized for his boss all the information he had gleaned about Tyler Drilling. It coincided with what Hardtack already knew.
"They've been having a rough time the last few years, but their reputation is above reproach. The number two son—they call him Lucky—had a run-in with federal agents a few years back. An arson charge."
Hardtack's head came up quickly. He glared at his employee from beneath his brows, demanding specifics. "Turned out to be a bum rap. The arsonists are in prison. Oldest son's first wife died in a car crash. It was an accident. Currently both are married with families.
"The girl in the picture has just earned a master's degree from the University of Texas, Austin. Never married. Involved for a while with a Travis Belcher from Houston. Affluent medical family. Nothing shady. Laurie Tyler, their mother, a widow for more than five years, recently married the county sheriff, an old family friend."
"Can't get much more respectable than that," Hardtack said with finality. The guard took his cue and began backing out of the room. "Thank you, Harry. I'm sure you made all your inquiries with discretion."
"Absolutely, sir."
"You'll be compensated and reimbursed for your expenses. See my secretary later in the day. As usual, I'll depend on your confidentiality."
"Sure thing, Mr. Hardtack."
Once the security guard had withdrawn, Grayson Hardtack studied the pictures more closely, spending several minutes pondering each one.
It was Harlan Boyd, all right, no mistaking that.
Had he sent the Tyler girl? Or was it a contrivance she had conceived? Was her intention to sell him a sprinkler system or blackmail him? What? Or was it all merely a bizarre coincidence? Was she totally innocent of the hornet's nest she had stirred up?
He raised his head and gazed at his wife's portrait across the stately chamber. These unsettling questions needed answers he had to hear for himself. He couldn't send an emissary in his place. He would have to find out what was afloat, even if it resulted in an unpleasant confrontation.
Depressing a button on his panel telephone, he got an outside line and punched in a sequence of numbers. When the telephone on the other end was answered, he barked an order.
"I want the Learjet ready to fly to Milton Point first thing tomorrow morning."
Hanging up, he went back to studying the fuzzy photographs, particularly the handsome visage of the man who had broken his wife's heart.
* * *
Chapter 17
Sage's horse limped toward the parked pickup. "Hi." She threw her leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground.
Harlan was sitting on his heels studying a connection in the pipe that had recently been laid. He pushed his hat back on his head and looked up at her. "What's up?"
"I was sent to get you. Somewhere along the way, I think my horse picked up a pebble." Using the caution she'd been taught, she stepped behind the gelding and raised his right rear hoof, securing it between her knees. "Hmm. Sure enough."
A small rock was caught between his hoof and the horseshoe. "I don't think I can get it out without the proper tool." She patted the horse's rump consolingly. "You'll have to give me a ride back," she told Harlan.
"No problem. It's quitting time anyway. Getting dark. I'll only be a minute."
While he applied a wrench to the faulty connection, she walked around the pickup, kicking the tires as she'd seen her brothers do, but having absolutely no idea what purpose was served by that strange, masculine maneuver.
"This wreck looks as bad as its predecessor," she observed out loud.
"Beats walking."
<
br /> After tying her horse's rein to the bumper, she let down the rusty tailgate and hopped up on it to sit down and wait. It was a moderately mild evening. The sky had already turned dark enough to see the moon.
She removed her riding gloves and unbuttoned her jean jacket. Her horseback ride had loosened her ponytail. Wispy strands of hair drifted across her face with the merest hint of wind.
"Who sent you to get me?" Harlan stood up, peeled off his leather work gloves and slapped them against his thigh to knock the dirt off before tucking them into the hip pocket of his jeans. When he smiled at her, she was glad he didn't know about her secret interview with Hardtack.
Because his trailer was still parked behind a filling station in Austin, he was staying in the house. He and Lucky weren't yet to the backslapping stage, but were working at being friends again. Everyone's focus was on their common goal. Personal feelings had been temporarily suspended.
Well, not all personal feelings, she mentally amended. Harlan and she kept up a pretense of pure professionalism, but she remembered their lovemaking all too well. At night she tossed restlessly and sleeplessly and wondered if he found it just as impossible to sleep.
She hadn't deluded herself. He wouldn't be staying much longer. Once he drew his commission from their first contract, he would leave. Money meant nothing to Harlan. He wouldn't stick around, waiting to profit on bigger and better contracts.
He would have achieved his goals. Tyler Drilling would be back on its feet and prospering. Although she was no longer sexually repressed, she wouldn't be included in any of Harlan's plans for the future. The sooner she started getting over him, the better.
That didn't stop her from loving him. The sight of him in his hat and boots and vest, looking just as he had the first time she saw him on the Belchers' veranda, had painfully increased her yearning and completely obliterated the reason for her being there until he reminded her of it.
"Oh, yes, Mother and Pat called from town," she blurted out. "They're due home any minute."