“I was late getting out of Santa Fe, and thanks to bad weather, my connecting flight to JFK is delayed here in Chicago.”
“It’s good to hear your voice.” And it was, Jordan realized. Hadn’t she wanted someone to talk to?
“Same goes. What about you? Having any second thoughts?”
“Not a chance. I’m packed and the limo is due in half an hour.”
“We’re really going through with this.”
It wasn’t a question. Jordan smiled and felt more of her worries and guilt fade. “Yes, we are.”
“You remember where the key to the ranch house is?”
“Underneath the terra-cotta planter on the porch.”
“And my latest designs for the jewelry show are—”
“In the safe.”
“Sorry. Are you as nervous about me forgetting something?”
“No. All you have to do is consult the notes I gave you. And if you have questions, you can call me.”
“Right. I’ve been thinking. Maybe Eva knew what she was doing. This is a good chance for me to get to know Eva and for you to get to know our father.”
“It’s our only chance.” Something tightened around her heart. But Jordan knew that in business as in life, sometimes you had to play the cards you were dealt. And she was looking forward to learning what she could about her father.
“Would you believe it if I told you I’m looking forward to walking around in your shoes?” Maddie asked.
Jordan smiled. “Absolutely. Same goes for me.”
It was the truth. And for the first time, Jordan believed that everything was going to work out.
2
EXCITEMENT WARRED with curiosity as Jordan drove the SUV into the small lean-to on the side of the ranch house. Thanks to the GPS system on her rented vehicle, she’d arrived safely at the Farrell Ranch in just under the hour predicted by the rental agent at the airport. So this was Maddie’s home for the last twenty-six years.
It could have been her home.
The words had formed a chant in her mind ever since she’d stepped off the plane in Santa Fe. She could have been raised here instead of in Manhattan. Living in the wide-open spaces that she’d been driving through for the past hour wouldn’t have been just a fantasy, it would have been her life. And she would have grown up knowing her father.
Although Eva had tolerated Jordan’s love of horses, she’d never shared it. And now she’d lost out on knowing someone who would have. Why?
Jordan pushed down the surge of grief. This wasn’t the time to indulge in it. While she was here, she would find answers.
So far, what she’d discovered was that everything—the landscape, the sky, even the air—was so different. On her drive from the airport, the rocks and sand had stretched away for miles on either side of the road. Unfiltered by even a trace of a cloud, the unrelenting light had bounced off her windshield and shimmered upward in a glimmering haze. Sunglasses had offered little protection against the blinding brilliance.
The hills in the distance had seemed so far away. But eventually, she’d reached them and begun the climb. The road had wound upward for several miles in a corkscrew. To her right had been the brownish rock of the hillside. To her left, the land fell away sharply at times into deep gulleys.
The vastness of the landscape awed her. She’d never seen anything like it except in her favorite movies.
Once past the hills, the road had flattened again, and as she drew closer, she caught glimpses of the ranch. The only building she’d been able to identify clearly was the house—a one-story sprawling expanse of stone, glass and wood. Now, thanks to the little bit of shade provided by the lean-to, she could finally get a closer look at the outbuildings.
To her far right was a long building, painted red with white trim. The stables, she guessed. Maddie must have a horse. It was one of many subjects that had never come up in the short time they’d spent together. She’d neglected to tell her sister that she kept a horse in a stable just north of the city. Jordan made a mental note to tell her the next time they talked. Julius Caesar would love it if Maddie paid him a visit.
Next to the stable sat a two-story structure that she supposed served as a bunkhouse. To her left and closer to the house was a smaller building—one story high and fashioned out of the same building materials as the main house. It had to be Maddie’s design studio.
Then she let her gaze move to the land beyond the buildings. It stretched far into the distance, flat for a while, then gradually lifting into more hills. Something moved through her then. Was it envy that her sister could call this place home and she couldn’t?
Ridiculous. She loved her life in New York. It had to be curiosity. And while she was here, she was going to satisfy it thoroughly by exploring every aspect of Maddie’s life, starting tonight with the house.
A glance at her watch told her that she was right on time—8:00 p.m.
And she was stalling.
What in the world was she waiting for? Drawing in a deep breath, Jordan opened the door of the SUV and slid to the ground. The heat hit her like a punch, and she lost her balance as her heels sank into the sand. Slapping a hand on the side of the car, she steadied herself, slipped out of her shoes and tossed them into the car. Thank heavens she and Maddie had decided to share each other’s wardrobes because her city clothes weren’t going to serve her well in this new environment.
After grabbing her briefcase, she turned and stopped short. In the distance, the hills she’d just driven over were a stunning shade of orange as the sun dipped closer to their peaks.
She made her way, barefoot, to the trunk, muscled out her suitcase and circled to the front of the house. The ground felt hot and gritty beneath her feet, but at least she could walk. A wide porch with a railing stretched the length of the building. Before climbing the short flight of steps, she paused to study the house more closely. The intricately carved entrance door was framed by huge floor-to-ceiling windows that extended the length of the porch on either side. Whoever had designed the place had loved the land, Jordan decided.
And who wouldn’t, she thought as she glanced over her shoulder to take another look at those brilliantly orange hills. There was a peacefulness here that appealed to her. Was it because she’d always had that secret fantasy about living on a ranch? But a fantasy was just that. She’d been born and bred in a city—with all its bustle and noise and constant excitement.
Still…there was definitely something about the place that was reaching out to her, tantalizing her.
Had her mother known that this would happen when she’d created that will?
Think about that later.
Knowing that she was stalling again, Jordan frowned and climbed the steps. It wasn’t like her to be so hesitant. The key was just where Maddie had left it—under one of the terra-cotta planters. Jordan sighed and shook her head. No self-respecting Manhattanite would leave a key in such an obvious place. She’d had the foresight to give Maddie a whole ring of keys before her sister had flown back to Santa Fe the morning after the will had been read.
Very carefully, Jordan inserted the key into the lock and turned it. As she pushed the door open, she suddenly realized why an uncharacteristic caution had been dogging her ever since she’d convinced her sister to agree to the switch.
Whatever she was going to discover beyond this door, whatever happened to her on this ranch was going to change her life.
Drastically.
So be it, she thought as she strode into the room. But the feeling that moved through her was so surprising that she very nearly backed up onto the porch. The instant that she’d walked into the cavernous room with its steepled ceiling, she’d inexplicably felt at home.
TWO HOURS LATER, Jordan stood in front of one of the huge windows in the spacious living room of the ranch and watched lightning flash in the distance. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a wide-screen perspective, and the display rivaled the Fourth of July fireworks in Manhattan’s
harbor.
It was nearly ten o’clock, and that meant it was 1:00 a.m. New York time. Still, she felt wired. After she’d finally gotten over her initial surprise, she’d been like a kid in a candy store, wandering from room to room, trying to take everything in. There were three bedrooms—a master suite she guessed had belonged to Mike Farrell, another one that probably served as a guest room and a third that definitely belonged to Maddie. The closet was full of her clothes.
Jordan had discarded her sweaty city clothes, taken a quick shower and then changed into a set of her own fresh underwear. Maddie’s taste ran to plain white cotton. Hers never had. But she had borrowed her sister’s robe. Then she’d spent the most time in a cozy room that served as a study or library. But everything she found raised new questions.
She glanced down at the photo of Mike Farrell she’d taken from a table next to his bed. In the picture, Maddie was on a horse. She looked to be about eleven or twelve. The horse was a beauty—black with white spots. Mike Farrell was standing next to her. Something tightened around Jordan’s heart as she studied the images. Mike was handsome in a rugged, solid John Wayne kind of way, and he appeared to be a man who was comfortable in his own skin. His hand rested on top of Maddie’s on the pommel of the saddle. There was something about the gesture that spoke of an easy camaraderie. And love. What had been the occasion for the photo?
Her mother had stood next to her in a similar fashion the first time that she’d shown her horse, Julius Caesar. They’d obviously loved their daughters. Or at least the one each had chosen.
Why had they separated Maddie and her? Why had Eva and Mike split? The more the questions spun in her mind, the more determined Jordan became to find answers. Where had her parents met? Where had they lived when she and Maddie were born? Here on the ranch? If that was so, there might be someone in the area who remembered Eva Ware.
Frustrated and annoyed by the never-ending loop of questions, she strode into the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art, and the freezer and large pantry were well-stocked. Who was the cook, she wondered. Maddie? That was another question she’d have to ask.
But what she discovered when she opened the door to the refrigerator was that her twin was thoughtful. In spite of all the things that Maddie must have had to take care of to make the “switch,” she’d taken the time to leave cheese, plump grapes and wine. A chardonnay from the same vineyard that they’d shared at the bed and breakfast in Linchworth.
Jordan tired to ignore the guilt she felt as she uncorked the bottle and poured herself a generous glass. Then she fixed a plate with brie and crackers.
She hadn’t even thought about leaving food for her twin. Jase Campbell was the one who usually stocked the cupboard and refrigerator, and in the three and a half weeks he’d been in South America, she hadn’t replenished anything. On her own, she either ate out or brought home take out.
That was probably not such a convenient option here on the ranch. After taking a sip of her wine, she picked up the bottle and the plate of food, then moved back to the window to watch the show. The lightning seemed to be closer now, and for the first time, she heard a faint rumble of thunder.
Good thing she wasn’t afraid of storms.
But watching the show nature was providing wasn’t going to relax her enough to sleep. Taking another sip of her wine, she moved to Plan B. A movie. She wasn’t sure if it was Maddie or Mike, but she’d discovered earlier in her exploration of the library that someone shared her love of westerns. In spades. Not only was there an extensive collection of old paperback westerns, but she’d also unearthed a large cache of old cowboy movies. She’d run her fingers over the Clint Eastwood classics Pale Rider and The Un-forgiven, before settling on one of her all-time favorites, The Big Country, with Gregory Peck. The movie centered on ranchers feuding over access to a river that meant the survival of their cattle, but there was also a strong love story.
A perfect way to end her day. Setting her food and wine on the big coffee table, Jordan lit a fat white candle and used the remote to turn on the big flat-panel TV. Finally, she settled herself comfortably on the leather couch and started the film. She couldn’t prevent a smile as the movie’s familiar theme music filled the room.
When the rumbling thunder drew closer, she merely upped the volume, took another sip of her wine and spread brie on a cracker. Within minutes, she was swept away to the ranch in the midst of the vast land that served as the setting for the movie.
THE STORM was finally tapering off when Cash Landry turned onto the highway. The sky was pitch-black, and the rain was still pouring down in sheets. Visibility was poor, but about an hour ago, the electrical fireworks had moved on to the east.
The problem was that parts of the road could be flooded, and there wasn’t much chance of seeing that in advance. Bottom line, it was not the best time to be driving, but he had to check on Maddie. Mac McAuliffe, her foreman, lived several miles away with his family, so for the last year since Mike had died, Maddie had lived alone on the ranch.
Cash didn’t like it. He liked it even less when he was out of touch with her as he’d been for the last ten days. His parents and then his father had been close friends with Mike Farrell, and he and Maddie had grown up together. Three years her senior, he’d early on taken on the role of looking after her. In his absence, he’d had his foreman, Sweeney, check on her daily when he came to feed the horses and check on the stock. When Sweeney had told him that he hadn’t seen Maddie today, Cash had only delayed long enough to shower before climbing into his pickup and heading for the Farrell Ranch.
Truth be told, he was worried about her. Her ranch had been plagued by vandalism for the past few months, and the incidents had been increasing in frequency and severity. At first, he’d blamed the occasional cut fence on the Trainer twins. One of them—Joey—had an obvious crush on Maddie, and Cash figured he was making a bid for attention. He’d had a heart-to-heart with the boy. He’d explained that time was money on a ranch and that Maddie couldn’t afford to lose manpower rounding up straying cattle and repairing fences.
But Joey Trainer had vehemently denied having anything to do with it. Cash had believed him. And there’d been other kinds of occurrences. Most recently, her horse, Brutus, had gotten ill. The vet had discovered that some of the hay had been poisoned. Since then, Cash had told Sweeney to bring over hay from the Landry ranch.
The most recent cut fence had allowed about a hundred head of her cattle to stray, and he hadn’t had time to round them all up before he had to take their combined herds to market.
Pressing his foot on the brake, Cash turned onto the drive that led to the Farrell Ranch. When he hit the first rut and heard the water splash up into the undercarriage of his pickup, he slowed. The driving would be tricky from now on.
What had bothered Cash most was that whoever had poisoned the hay had come close to the house. Too close. So he’d taken to sleeping in the guest room a couple of times a week. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but he was hoping that it would give whoever was behind the incidents pause.
Cash had his suspicions about who might be causing Maddie problems. Top of the list was Daniel Pearson, a real estate agent who’d been after her to let him put her ranch on the market for the past six months. Cash knew that Maddie didn’t want to sell the ranch, but Pearson had been persistent, and he might believe that she would cave under pressure.
He’d checked and no other ranchers in the area were experiencing any problems. Only Maddie. Hitting another rut, Cash slowed his vehicle to a crawl. Ten days away had given him some time to think, and he’d come up with what might just be a solution to the problem, or at least a way to get Pearson to back off.
He and Maddie could get engaged.
He had to admit that when the idea had first come to him, it had given him pause. More than that, it had given him a good-sized jolt. An engagement hadn’t been on his immediate agenda. It wasn’t even in his five-year plan. He liked his life just the way it was. Being single
suited him to a T. And he was pretty sure Maddie was happy with hers.
But it wouldn’t be for real. Just a ruse so the incidents stopped until he could get some hard evidence about who was behind them.
Oh, his father and Maddie’s had shared a lifelong dream of having the two of them marry and unite the two ranches. But it wasn’t a plan that he and Maddie had bought into. Their relationship, even during their teens when his system had been hormone-driven, had never taken that turn into intimacy. Perhaps because he’d always thought of her as his kid sister and best friend.
But a fake engagement between the two of them wouldn’t surprise their neighbors in the least. Most of them would think that Mike Farrell and Jesse Landry had been right after all. It shouldn’t be hard to talk Maddie into it. He’d just lay out the logic of it and then give her a little push. Over the years, he’d learned that sometimes Maddie had to be pushed. Especially since she’d become so focused on her jewelry-design business.
Cash frowned as the dark outline of the ranch house came into view. The flood lights that normally lit up the stables and the house were off. And he couldn’t see any other light coming from the house. The place must have lost power during the storm.
Chances were she was asleep. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up. But the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to talk to Maddie about the engagement thing tonight and get it settled.
Cash parked in front of the house. That was when he caught a glimmer of light. Some of his tension eased. She’d probably lit a candle. From the time she was a child, electrical storms had frightened her to death.
Not wanting to wake her if she was asleep, Cash didn’t bother knocking. Instead, he looked for the key under the terra-cotta pot. When he didn’t find it there, he frowned and some of his tension returned. He should have told her to find a better hiding place.
His frown deepened when he tried the door and found it unlocked. He’d have to have a word with Maddie about that, too. He saw her the moment he stepped into the living room and felt a surge of relief. She was stretched out on the sofa, one arm flung over her head. The fat white candle burning on the coffee table allowed him to see the half-empty plate of cheese and grapes and the opened bottle of wine.
Twin Seduction Page 3