by Diana Palmer
She laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm. “It really is unorthodox.”
“Orthodox is for normal people,” he chided. He leaned over and kissed her hungrily. “You and a baby. I’ve hit the jackpot and we aren’t even on the way to Vegas.”
“Will I be enough for you?” she worried. “I mean, that starlet was so beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful, you sweet little idiot,” he chided. “Beautiful inside and out. I’ve never known anyone like you.” He leaned back in his seat. “You’ll have all the time you want to knit and read romance novels,” he teased. “We’ll find a good manager to take care of your place in Wyoming. We can spend summers there, if you like.”
Knitting and reading romance novels. She grimaced, because she had yet to tell him what she really did for a living. She had to be honest with him. She opened her mouth, but Nick came aboard with another man, probably the copilot, and still a third man. She smiled and nodded politely as Cort introduced her to them.
“Marlowe—” he indicated the man with the pilot “—and that’s Bib. He’s our flight attendant. Want something cold and fizzy to drink?” he added.
“After we take off,” she said.
He took her hand in his. “No worries. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She really hoped so. She’d have to wait until they had a quiet moment to tell Cort about her profession. She could do that when they went back to Catelow, because she’d have to have her computer and her flash drive. She used the flash drive to back up her files, just in case the computer ever failed.
* * *
THEY WERE MARRIED in a small wedding chapel, with Mina in her denim skirt and checked blouse, and Cort in his own cowboy regalia. He slid the wedding ring on her finger and kissed her when the official pronounced them married. Tears slid down her cheeks. She hadn’t really believed that Cort was serious about marrying her, until she saw the rings. He was grinning from ear to ear, hardly the look of a reluctant bridegroom. It gave her hope for the future.
They got back into the stretch limo he’d hired and settled her beside him.
“What would you like to do?” he asked, smiling.
“This will sound stark.”
“Try me.”
She drew in a breath. “I’d like to go home,” she laughed.
His eyes twinkled at her. “Puritan,” he accused softly, but with affection. “No curiosity about the steamy side of life?”
She shook her head. “It’s all very pretty,” she said, studying the city lights and marquees as they passed them. “But I think a little Black Baldy calf is the prettiest thing on earth.”
He drew her close and kissed her slowly. “So do I. Except in my case, it would be a purebred Santa Gertrudis calf.”
“Semantics,” she teased.
He chuckled. “Okay, then. Home it is. We’ll pack you and then head south to Latigo.”
Her breath caught. “I can’t wait!”
“Feeling okay?”
She grimaced. “Just a little queasy, but the doctor said that was normal, even all the way through the first trimester.” She looked at him worriedly, because they were newly married and she knew that he wanted her.
“Stop looking like that,” he chided softly. “I’m not going to leave you alone and go hunting women just because you’re sick. I’m not my father.”
“Oh, I’d never think that,” she said at once. “But I know you must want to, and I feel so bad about it.”
“Honey, we have all the time in the world,” he said softly, kissing her nose. “Besides all that, I’m going to be a father.” He beamed. “Damn, I can’t wait to tell my dad and my brothers!”
She laughed. “Why?”
“To see the look on their faces on Skype,” he replied smugly. “I was the odd one out. Now Parker’s going to be.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting your family.” She hesitated. “They won’t think I married you because you’re well-to-do?” she worried.
“You fell in love with a cowboy, Mina,” he reminded her tenderly. “Not a cattle baron.”
Her eyes softened on his face. “So I did. Fell hard, too, or I never would have ended up in bed with you.”
“I figured that out on my own,” he replied solemnly. “It’s a big responsibility.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
His fingers curled into hers. “I have to take good care of you,” he said. “I’ve been responsible for the ranch and half the businesses for years. But it’s another thing, to be responsible for a person. For a family,” he emphasized. “It’s going to be a learning curve.”
“For both of us,” she reminded him. “I’ve lived by myself for several years. It will take time for us to get used to each other.”
He nodded. He smiled. “That learning curve I’m going to enjoy,” he said.
She smiled back. But she was dreading the revelations he had yet to hear. She ground her teeth together. She’d been pregnant while she was crawling through the jungles of Nicaragua on her belly, risking being shot. How would he react, knowing that? And there was still the revelation about her research group and their deadly occupation. She was afraid to tell him, even more so now that she knew she was pregnant. What she’d done was a huge risk. But she hadn’t known about the baby then. Maybe that would help her case. She hoped so.
* * *
THEY WENT BACK to her ranch and while she packed, Cort phoned his cousin.
Bart laughed until his sides hurt. “I don’t believe it!” he told Cort. “You, married?”
“Married. Mina and I are over the moon. There’s something else, too, but you have to keep it under your hat for a while.”
“She’s pregnant,” Bart guessed.
“Oh yes. I’m the happiest man on earth,” he confessed. “Mina, and a baby. What a combination!”
“And, you’re okay with the other?” Bart queried softly, assuming Mina had told her new husband about what she did for a living.
“What other?” Cort asked pleasantly.
“The ranch,” Bart amended quickly. “Are you going to put somebody in charge over there?”
“Yes. Fender. Can you keep an eye over this way?” Cort added. “Just to make sure he does things the way she’ll want them done?”
“I certainly can!”
“Good man. I really appreciate it.”
“Can I speak to her?”
“Sure. Mina?” he called.
She came out of the bedroom, where she’d just finished packing. She grinned up at Cort as he handed her the phone.
“Hi, Bart, guess what?” she teased.
“You’re married,” he chuckled. “Could have knocked me over with a feather. I’m happy for you. He’s a good man. He’ll take care of you.”
She looked up at Cort, her eyes brimming with love. “I’ll take care of him, too,” she said softly.
Cort flushed a little at the idea of a woman wanting to take care of him. He’d never had anybody offer. He had to swallow down the pincushion in his throat.
“You haven’t told him, have you?” Bart asked.
“Well, no, not yet.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice. “Don’t wait too long,” he advised. “Your book is rising on all the lists, and it has your photo on the back cover. You have readers all over, even in Texas. Don’t let him find it out the hard way. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “Watch out for Fender, will you?” she added. “And if he gets in a real tight spot, call Cousin Rogan. He’ll know what to do.”
“I will. Congratulations, my friend,” he said. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. Cort, too. Tell him.”
“I will. Thanks, Bart. We’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Cort put away the phone. He was smiling whe
n he looked down at Mina. “Okay, Mrs. Grier. Got your gear bagged up?”
She grinned. “Yes, I do. And my computer.”
He frowned. “We have computers at the ranch, you know.”
“I really need my own.” She started to tell him, but she got cold feet. “I...game,” she said. It was almost the truth. She had Star Wars: The Old Republic on her computer, complete with its distinctive icon. She’d played it a little over the years. It was a good enough excuse, for now.
“Oh, I see.” He shook his head, laughing. “Wonders will never cease. My wife, the rancher and knitter and gamer.”
“I can shoot a gun, too,” she blurted out.
“In the game, you mean?” he asked.
She almost bit her tongue off as she forced a smile. “Of course!”
He chuckled. “I may have to learn, too, in my spare time. I don’t have much of that lately, with roundup starting on Latigo. We’ve also got some labor disputes in one of our mining concerns,” he added with a worried glance. “I may have to be away from home a bit. I’ll try to make sure it’s not excessive.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “I can always...knit,” she said, almost choking on the word.
“Fair enough. Let’s get going!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MINA’S FIRST GLIMPSE of Latigo was a revelation. It wasn’t what anyone would picture a ranch house looking like. The house was huge, two stories high, made of wood and brown stone in a design that melded into its landscape. There was a black wrought iron gate, which the driver opened automatically from a control panel over the windshield in the big Jaguar XJL that he was driving, with Cort and Mina in the backseat. The paved driveway led down through white-fenced pastures to a huge complex that featured the house itself, along with a garage, guesthouses, shade trees and a privacy fence made of stone, which surrounded the house complex. It, too, was gated.
“This ranch is unbelievable,” Mina exclaimed.
He chuckled. “Thirty thousand acres,” he said. “We have several thousand head of purebred Santa Gertrudis, on this ranch and another one in an adjacent county that we absorbed a few years ago, when its owner had to sell up.”
“Your mountains aren’t what I expected,” she confessed.
He chuckled. “Well, they’re not the snowcapped Tetons,” he teased. “But they’re mountains, just the same. We have miles of improved pasture here. The stables, and the barn, are farther out.”
“The house is enormous.”
“Ten bedrooms—each with a private bath—an indoor Olympic-size swimming pool, a conservatory with every sort of plant you can imagine and a kitchen with a walk-in freezer. It may look imposing,” he added as the driver pulled up beside the front door. “But it’s just home.”
“Just home,” she laughed.
There was a big gold Mercedes sitting at the steps, parked askew. Cort’s face tautened. “My father’s here,” he said curtly.
“It will be all right,” she said, putting her hand on his. “Don’t worry.”
“He can be a handful when he drinks.”
She just smiled. “I never told you, but so can Bill McAllister. They used to come and get me when he went wild in the local bar. I’d lead him out like a lamb.”
“Aren’t you afraid of people who drink?” he asked softly.
“I was afraid of Henry because he was violent, and he hated me,” she said. “Like my mother did. But it doesn’t bother me so much when I know the reason. Bill lost his only daughter in a wreck a few years ago,” she added. “He drinks because he hurts so much. I think maybe your father does, too.”
He drew in a breath. “He’s been morose since his new wife left him. But he’s not hurting you—I don’t care if he is my father,” he said firmly.
Her heart lifted. She liked it, that he was protective of her. He brushed his mouth against hers. She touched his cheek and kissed him back.
* * *
THE DRIVER OPENED the back door for them. Cort got out and helped Mina out. He didn’t let go of her hand as they moved up onto the porch, which seemed to go all around the house.
“It must be heaven to sit out here at sunset,” she remarked, loving the wicker furniture with its deep cushions and the porch swing.
“I wish I had time to do it,” he responded enigmatically. “Come on in.” He hesitated as curses echoed from the living room. His lips made a thin line. “Damn it! Mina, it might be better if you wait here...” he began.
She ignored him and went right into the hall and, from there, into the elegant living room with its crystal chandelier and Victorian furniture and big, open fireplace. A white-haired man, tall like Cort, was trying to pick up a table which he’d apparently overturned. He was staggering.
Mina went forward and righted the table as he finally got it back in place. She could almost feel his pain. She’d lived with alcoholics for a long time, but this one didn’t frighten her. She remembered what Cort had told her about his father. The older man looked down at her, his silver hair falling onto a broad forehead. Dark brown eyes met hers. He blinked. “Who are you?” he asked belligerently.
“I’m Cort’s wife,” she said softly.
He seemed disconcerted. While Cort looked on, spellbound, she reached for the elderly man’s hand. “Wouldn’t you like to sit down? You look very tired.”
“Well...well, yes, I am tired. A little.”
She led him to the sofa and waited while he sat down. She perched herself on the edge of a wing chair.
“You’re the rancher from Wyoming,” he said, slurring his words.
She nodded. “It’s just a little ranch, though,” she replied gently. “Not anything as big as yours and Cort’s.” She shook her head and sighed. “It looks as if you could ride all day and never leave Latigo.” She frowned slightly. “Latigo. That’s the leather strip on the saddletree that tightens the cinch,” she mused.
He chuckled. “Well, the history of the ranch is in a book somewhere.” He waved his hand in the general direction of a floor-to-ceiling bookcase in an adjoining room. “But the legend is that the first owner, a Spanish grandee, caught his hand in one while he was tightening the cinch and got dragged to the front gate. He had a grand sense of humor, apparently, because that’s the name he gave the ranch. It’s been Latigo ever since.”
“I like it,” she said.
Vic looked toward his son. “You never said she was pretty,” he chided.
Cort chuckled as he joined them. “You never asked.” He raised his voice. “Chaca, any chance of coffee and cake?”
A small, dark woman poked her head out of the kitchen. “Do you see that?” she asked, indicating a piece of equipment on an end table. “That is an intercom. You push the button and I answer.”
“More fun to just yell,” Cort retorted with a grin.
She threw up her hands. “You are the most troublesome man...” She stopped dead when she saw Mina. “Oh, excuse me,” she said hesitantly and she moved farther into the room, wiping her wet hands on the long, embroidered apron she was wearing. “I am Chiquita, but everyone in the family calls me Chaca, for short,” she said softly.
“Mina,” came the soft reply. She shook hands. “I’m very happy to meet you. I’m Cort’s wife.”
“Wife!” Chaca gaped at him. “You got married? I am so happy! I never thought you would give up those horrible women and bring me somebody so nice!”
“Obviously, you underestimated my ability to attract somebody so nice,” he chuckled.
“This is obviously true.” Chaca sighed again and shook her head. “Bienvenidos,” she said to Mina. “I will bring coffee and cake at once, for you and Cort.”
“And why not for me, too?” Vic demanded.
“Because you broke my best crystal serving dish this morning and I am not speaking to you,” she huffed, and went off into the kit
chen.
“I sat on it,” Vic muttered, aware of amused glances. “Well, she had it in a chair cleaning it and didn’t tell me and I sort of sat down hard. Damned thing. Could have ruined my new pants.”
Cort just shook his head.
“So you got married.” Vic smiled at Mina. “You remind me of Cort’s mother,” he added softly. “She had hair like yours, and a sweet, gentle nature.”
“Mina likes to knit, too,” Cort added, smiling at her. “She’s a homebody. Oh, there’s one other thing. We’re going to make you a grandfather in a few months.”
“A grandfather.” Vic had to fight tears. “And this one will be where I can get to know him,” he said quietly. “I’ve missed seeing my other grandkids. They live so far away. And they don’t visit much.”
“You’re never home, much,” Cort drawled.
“Well, I will be, when this one comes.” He frowned at Mina. “He married you because of the baby?”
Mina laughed. “He didn’t know about the baby until after he proposed.”
“Well!”
“It’s been the happiest two days of my life,” Cort confessed. “I wasn’t sure she’d have me.”
“Silly man,” Mina said softly. “I loved you the minute I met you.”
“She stomped on my foot and dared me to have her arrested,” Cort chuckled, telling on her.
She flushed. “He made fun of me because I was talking about how much I liked to knit.”
“I swear that I’ll never make fun of you again,” Cort said, hand over his heart.
“You’re only saying that because you don’t want your foot stomped on again,” she teased. But in the back of her mind was her profession and his misconception that she’d spend their married life knitting and raising children. Well, she could do both, of course. But she might have to depend more on her commando group to sit and tell her about adventures, rather than go with them. She had a feeling that Cort wasn’t going to be understanding if he knew what she’d been doing with her life since she started writing books. And there would be the inevitable tours when she’d have to travel to sign books at the various venues, including independent bookstores where she already had readers who loved her work. In fact, there was a tour scheduled the following month. How was she going to tell him?