After Tex
After Tex
Sherryl Woods
ALIVE, TEX O'ROURKE WAS A SNEAKY OLD COOT. NOW THAT HE'S DEAD, HE'S EVEN WORSE.Megan O'Rourke's beloved grandfather had always been determined to lure her out of New York and back to the ranch in Whispering Wind, Wyoming, where he had raised her. And when Megan returns for Tex's funeral, she realizes his will is going to make it impossible for her to refuse. Her "inheritance" is Tex's daughter, Tess, an eight-year-old bundle of trouble Megan had never even known existed. Jake Landers has also come home to Whispering Wind.After leaving town years before under a cloud of suspicion, he's returned to put down roots. And when he comes face-to-face with the woman who shared his troubled past, he hardly recognizes Megan. She's become a driven, stressed-out powerhouse who runs a successful entertainment empire, but who's forgotten what's really important.He knows Megan is going to have to make some big decisions–about life and love, about where home really is. And he's only too happy to help. Because he's letting go of old grudges and beginning to recall some old dreams. And the best one begins with Megan.
“According to Tex’s will, you are officially Tess’s legal guardian.”
“No,” Megan whispered, stunned not only by the concept, but by the weight of the responsibility. She tried to imagine taking a kid back to New York with her, fitting her into a life already stretched to the limits. Her imagination, always vivid, failed miserably. “There has to be another way. Mrs. Gomez….”
“Not quite,” Jake said. “You can’t just dump Tess with Mrs. Gomez and take off.”
“Why the hell can’t I?” she all but shouted as panic flooded through her.
“Because Tex has spelled it all out in his will.”
His intimate familiarity with the details of Tex’s wishes stirred suspicion. “How do you know so much about Tex’s will?” Megan asked, her gaze narrowed.
“Because I’m the one who drew it up. Believe me, it’s airtight.”
Megan wondered just how many shocks her heart could take. “You’re a lawyer?”
“A damned good one, if I do say so myself. You renege on the terms that Tex has spelled out and the ranch is up for grabs.” Jake’s expression turned triumphant. “In other words, it’ll be all but mine, Megan, and there won’t be a damned thing you can do to stop it.”
Sherryl Woods
After Tex
For my father
As strong-willed as Tex and every bit as great an
influence on my life. I’ll miss your wit,
your generosity, your tomatoes
and our Beanie quests.
October 23, 1917—August 28, 1998
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
1
Megan O’Rourke swept through the elegant marble and glass lobby of the prestigious Manhattan skyscraper, acknowledging a half-dozen greetings that followed in her wake.
“Hey, Megan.”
“Good morning, Miss O’Rourke.”
“Miss O’Rourke.”
“Hi ya, sweetheart.”
This last from the newspaper vendor, who also handed over a copy of the latest issue of her competitor’s glossy life-style magazine.
“Nothing you haven’t covered and done better,” he assured her with a wink.
“Thanks, Billy. I hope the day never comes when you tell me she’s beat me on something.”
“Won’t happen,” he said with confidence. “That staff of yours doesn’t miss a trick.”
Megan knew that because her staff was every bit as eager and ambitious as she was, every bit as tenacious and determined to take Megan’s World to the top, right along with the weekly TV show that had launched just weeks ago. The people she’d hired were young and savvy, quick to spot trends, sometimes just as quick to start them, she acknowledged as she got onto the elevator.
Not until the doors had whooshed closed did she pinch herself, a daily ritual that had started with her meteoric rise in publishing. She still couldn’t believe she was right on the brink of becoming a phenomenon as successful and renowned as Martha Stewart, dabbling in a whole slew of media pies, from magazines to books to television, her finger on the pulse of American culture.
Pretty impressive for a small-town girl from Wyoming who’d grown up on a ranch with a grandfather who was about as sophisticated as flannel—shirts, not designer sheets. Tex O’Rourke wasn’t into trends or styles or much of anything except land and cattle and making money. If Megan ever saw another cow again it would be way too soon.
Still, as Tex liked to remind her, she owed a lot to those cows she hated so much. They’d enabled her to go off to New York at twenty-one with money in her pocket. She’d been able to rent an apartment where she didn’t have to fear for her life every time she walked out the door.
After she’d served a suitable apprenticeship on three other magazines, starting in the lowliest of capacities, those blasted cows had allowed her to buy a faltering bimonthly publication, rename it and, in two short years, turn it into must-have reading from New York to Los Angeles. Even the people who set the trends read it, just in case she’d gotten the jump on them. Her readership demographics were an advertiser’s dream. These were the people who spent money—a lot of it—to stay one step ahead of the Joneses.
But if Tex’s money had given her a boot up, she knew it was her own drive and dedication and vision that had accomplished the impossible. Megan’s World was on financially stable ground now all on its own. Her first book—a hefty tome on entertaining—had been a bestseller. The second—on turning flea market bargains into treasured heirlooms—was flying off shelves at an even faster pace.
Six months ago she had started a local cable TV show in Manhattan, used that to assemble sample tapes, and just weeks ago had taken the program into national syndication. She was the media world’s latest hot property. Her demanding schedule was packed with talk show appearances and newspaper interviews. Ironically, that ability to crowd every hour with work was another lesson learned from the inexhaustible Tex, even if he didn’t approve of the way in which she’d put it to use.
Life was good. Life was very, very good. Alone in the elevator, she pinched herself again just to make sure it was real and not one of those summertime daydreams she used to have on the rare occasions when Tex had allowed her to laze around down by the creek during breaks from school.
When the elevator opened on the thirty-second floor, Megan stepped off into chaos. The rapid expansion of her media interests had jammed the offices, but no one had the time to steal away to look at new space. Her Realtor was at her wit’s end.
“Jasmine called again,” her executive assistant said, as if to reiterate that fact as he trailed her into her office. “The penthouse floor over on Madison is going today unless you get your tail over there to put in a higher bid.”
“Can I fit it in?”
“No.”
“Can you?”
“No, not unless you clone me.”
Megan stared, intrigued by the idea. “Can I do that?”
“They did it on Guiding Light, but as a practical matter, I’d say no,” Todd Winston said.
Todd—with his all-American face and biceps to die for—had been an aspiring actor until Megan had gotten her hooks into him when he’d taken a temp job between acting roles. She’d turned him into an executive assistant, the ultimate Yuppie with his neatly trimmed brown hair, oxford cloth, button-down shirts and trendy glasses that couldn’t hide mysterious eyes the gray-green color of sage. She had a hunch he’d taken the job as an acting assignment and chosen his wardrobe—and the glasses—accordingly. She knew for a fact he could see better than she could, and her vision was twenty-twenty.
He still taped at least three daytime dramas at home every weekday and fast-forwarded through them in some sort of bizarre soap ritual every weekend. He claimed the women in his life loved it, and if it satisfied some deep-seated need in him and kept him working for her, Megan wasn’t about to complain. Nor was she going to voice any disapproval of his tendency to discuss the story lines as if talking about old and dear friends. She had offered sympathy on more than one occasion only to discover that the death in question had been scripted and filmed in a studio on the west side of Manhattan.
“What do I tell Jasmine?” Todd asked.
“To start looking for alternative space. Then find a hole in my schedule and pencil her in sometime before the millennium.”
“I’ll write it in pen,” he countered. “Otherwise, you’ll just erase it and write in something else. I will not listen to another one of that woman’s perfectly justifiable tirades. You hired her to find new space so we wouldn’t all be crawling over top of each other. The least you can do is look at what she finds.”
Megan grinned at his testiness. “I thought you enjoyed crawling all over the staff, especially Micah.”
Micah Richards was a bright, ambitious producer who was responsible for whipping Megan’s TV production into shape in record time. With her close-cropped black hair, angular features and long legs, she was stunningly beautiful in an unconventional way. Mere mention of her was enough to bring color to Todd’s cheeks.
“Micah’s the kind of woman who’ll slap me with a harrassment suit if I sneeze in her general direction,” he protested. “I do not crawl anywhere near her.”
“But you want to, don’t you?”
Todd gave her a jaundiced look. “My private yearnings are none of your concern.”
“Sure they are. It makes up for having absolutely none of my own.”
“I thought you had a date last night.”
“It was a business meeting,” she countered emphatically. “No yearning involved.”
“How many so-called business meetings does that make with Peter? Your finances must be very complicated if you need to see your accountant that often.”
That was the trouble with an efficient assistant. He knew her habits all too well. “Do I pay you to keep tabs on my social life?”
“You pay me to keep tabs on everything.”
True enough, she acknowledged, but only to herself. “Okay, then, tell me what’s on the agenda for today.”
Todd ticked off a daunting schedule that was already running late, thanks to his penchant for scheduling nine o’clock meetings when he knew perfectly well Megan refused to be civil to anyone before ten. Too many years of ranch living and rising at dawn had made her rebellious. Fortunately, most of those nine o’clock meetings were with staffers who knew her habits. They worked steadily until she called for them, she crammed an hour’s worth of talk into fifteen minutes and Todd got to enjoy his little game. It was a small price to pay for his otherwise incredible efficiency.
Her first meeting was with her food editor, who wanted to do a feature on edible flowers. She littered Megan’s desk with bright nasturtiums and encouraged her to sample them to prove her point. Megan eyed the perky little flowers with distaste and agreed to take the woman’s word for it.
That was followed by a quick session with a freelance photographer hoping to do an architectural photo shoot on the new waterfront home of a man who’d made megabucks in the computer industry. Megan had to tell him they’d been there and done that—months ago, in fact.
She had lunch with her editor to talk about the next book, followed by nonstop meetings to cover every facet of the magazine, as well as the topics for the next four tapings of the TV show.
“Are you satisfied with these?” Megan asked Micah, who was pacing around the room with an edginess that was typical of the woman’s nervous energy.
“All but that last one,” she said. “To be honest, I’m not sure anyone gives a fig about figs.”
“Isn’t it our job to show them the possibilities?”
Micah nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that, but consider this. The people watching this show have to go to their neighborhood market later to get the ingredients. Just how many varieties of figs do you think the stores in Middle America will carry?”
“In other words, we’ll excite them, then frustrate them,” Megan said thoughtfully.
“Exactly. It’s all well and good to suggest new, trendy foods, but if we do, we’d better be sure there’s a mail-order link or something for the hard-to-find ingredients. See what I mean?”
Megan nodded. “Mail order, huh? Maybe a catalog?” She beamed. “I love it. Put somebody on developing it. Let’s not just offer exotic gourmet foods, but a sampling of everything we talk about on the show. Anything else?”
“Nope. I’ll take care of this and get back to you.”
“Thanks, Micah.” Megan regarded her hopefully. “I don’t suppose we could get the first catalog out in time for Christmas.”
“Not without having the entire staff crash and burn. Maybe next Christmas, if we want to do it right.”
“Okay, I’ll settle for summer,” Megan compromised.
“Done,” Micah said, then grinned. “I would have gone for spring.”
It was a game they often played, tempering their natural tendencies toward eagerness and excitement with reality checks.
“See you tomorrow,” Micah said. “I’ll find something to sub for the figs.”
After her meeting with the producer, Megan retreated to a test kitchen to sample the recipes slated for nine months from now, in the July issue’s feature on backyard entertaining. She prided herself on the fact that Megan’s World had never once mentioned the word hamburger in connection with such an informal social event.
She thought of her grandfather and smiled. Tex referred to her suggested alternatives as “sissy food” and refused to allow his housekeeper to put any of it on his table. Megan knew, because on her last whirlwind visit home she’d asked Mrs. Gomez if she’d ever tried any of the recipes.
“Only at my own home, niña. Your grandpapa wants only meat and potatoes, nothing so fancy as what you write about.”
“Does he even look at the magazine?” Megan had inquired, unable to hide the wistful note in her voice. For all of her claims to independence, she still craved Tex’s approval, which he gave out with stingy rarity.
“Of course he looks. He even got cable last month so the picture of you on TV would be clearer. He is very proud of you.” The older woman had shrugged. “That does not mean he understands the choices you have made or the food you write about, Sí?”
“Yes,” Megan had agreed with a sigh.
Megan was a mystery to her grandfather, just as Tex was an enigma to her. He had taken her in when she was barely nine and abandoned by a mother who no longer wanted any part of raising a difficult child. That was the last time Megan had seen Sarah O’Rourke. She had never seen her father, at least not that she could recall, and no one mentioned him. She didn’t even know his name. Given Tex’s tight-lipped reaction to her hesitant inquiries, there was some question whether her mother did, either.
Tex had been mother and father to her from that moment on. He’d done the best he could, but he was not an especially warm man. He believed in plain truths and harsh realities with no sugarcoating. He’d given her a roof over her head, food and clothes, but he thought toys and dolls were foolishness, television a waste of time and books on anything other than ranching only marginally better.
Megan had never doubted, though, that he loved her. And when the time had come to let her go, he’d railed about it, but he’d given her the wherewithal to make her dreams come true and the knowledge that home would be waiting for her if she failed.
That Megan had succeeded beyond her wildest expectations and his was still baffling to him. Not a conversation passed without him asking when she was going to “give up that damn fool nonsense” and come back where she belonged. She’d put off another visit for just that reason, because the pressure to come home—both overt and subtle—would be relentless. Seeing the hurt and disappointment in his eyes when she refused took some of the joy out of her accomplishments. Better, she’d concluded, to stay away.
Tex thought she should be satisfied that she’d proved what she could do in a competitive world. He simply couldn’t understand that every single TV show, every single issue of the magazine was a new and exciting challenge. His attitude was proof that his early support had been an indulgence, not a genuine exhibition of faith in her abilities. He still dreamed of turning her into a rancher.
That lack of understanding and his refusal to set foot in New York grated on her and made every conversation with her grandfather a minefield. Their last one had ended with an explosion that had shaken her. She’d been avoiding his calls for the past week, letting Todd and her answering machine deal with Tex because she simply couldn’t, not without adding to the mountain of guilt already weighing her down.
She was tapping her pencil against her desk, still lost in thought, when Christie Gates burst into her office carrying an I Love Lucy lunchbox and a Howdy Doody puppet. Christie was Todd’s assistant and an aspiring writer who spent every lunch hour searching for some story angle she could sell to Megan. Most of the ideas had been outlandish and way off the mark, but this one had potential. Megan could feel it.
“Are these not the greatest?” Christie said enthusiastically, setting the two pieces of memorabilia on Megan’s desk with surprising reverence for someone who hadn’t even been born when either classic show was originally on the air.
Megan examined them closely. “Definitely originals,” she concluded.
“Would I bring back anything else?” Christie demanded indignantly. “I know a reproduction when I see one.”
“What do you propose we do with them?”
“I was thinking of a feature on using decorative accents like this to rediscover the child within. Talk about a whimsical touch. I mean, how could you not smile every time you walk into a room with Howdy Doody or Lucy staring you in the face? I’ve even heard that people are collecting those really old sand pails to remind them of when they were kids at the beach.”
She paused and watched Megan closely. “So, what do you think?” she finally prodded.
Megan considered the idea thoughtfully, deliberately taking her time, then grinned at Christie’s bouncing impatience. “I think it’s terrific. Congratulations! You have your first story assignment.”
“Oh, wow! You mean it?”
“I mean it. At a fee above and beyond your salary, of course. Have Todd draw up the contract and make sure accounting reimburses you for whatever you have to buy for the photo shoot.”
“Like a real freelance deal?” Christie asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Christie rushed around the desk, embraced her, then backed away self-consciously. “Sorry, Miss O’Rourke.”
Megan grinned. “No apology necessary. And I think from now on you should call me Megan.”
The girl’s eyes brightened. “Really? Oh, wow.”
Megan might have been amused by the unabashed excitement if it weren’t for the fact that not very long ago she had reacted in exactly the same way to every triumph—minor and major. Still did, if the truth be known, but she tried to confine it to the privacy of her office.
“One last thing,” Megan added, “you might ask around, see if any decorators know of a home doing anything like this. Todd can give you a list of people to call.”
Christie bounded toward the door to share her news, but Megan stopped her. “Hey, Christie, when the story’s done and all the photos have been shot, I’d like you to bring Howdy Doody back to me, okay?”
“You want the puppet?”
“Sure. I need to remember being a kid, the same as everybody else,” she said. The pitiful truth was, though, she couldn’t really remember ever being a kid at all.
Slowly the outer offices fell silent. Megan worked on her column for the next issue of the magazine, not coming up for air until darkness had fallen outside and the sky was lit with the twinkling lights of endless rows of skyscrapers. It was her favorite time of day in New York, when the streets were emptying of traffic, the impatient blare of horns was dying and the view from her office turned into a picture postcard. Daytime might offer a glimpse of Central Park in all its orange-and-red autumnal glory, but this was the view that had been on the one postcard she’d ever gotten after her mother abandoned her.
Some days Megan wondered if New York’s pull had been professional or personal. Had she subconsciously come here hoping to spot Sarah O’Rourke on a street corner? It was a question she rarely asked herself and had never adequately answered, just as she never examined too closely how a woman whose own background was so dysfunctional was qualified to promote life-style choices for others.
To her surprise, given the hour, one of the phone lines lit up and she heard Todd answering. She was even more surprised when he stepped through the door rather than buzzing her. The sympathetic expression on his face set her pulse to pounding.
“What is it?”
“It’s Mrs. Gomez.”
No doubt the housekeeper had been persuaded to play intermediary for her grandfather. “I can’t talk to Tex tonight. Please just tell her that for me.”
Todd stayed right where he was. “You need to take the call, Megan.”
If she hadn’t already had this gut-deep feeling of dread building inside, his somber tone would have set it off. With reluctance, she reached for the phone.
“Mrs. Gomez,” she said.
“Ah, niña,” the woman murmured, her voice suspiciously scratchy, as if she’d recently been crying. “I am so sorry to be calling like this. It is your grandfather.”
The pounding pulse slowed to a dull thud. “Is Tex okay? Has something happened to him?”
“There is no easy way to say this. He is gone, niña. Your grandfather passed away a few moments ago.”
The words echoed, nonsensical, impossible.
“No,” Megan protested in a whisper.
“I am so sorry, niña.”
“No,” Megan said again as tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. “Not Tex.” He was big and blustery and strong. Indomitable. Immortal.
“I am so very sorry,” Mrs. Gomez repeated. “It was very fast. There was no time to call you. His heart, the doctor said. There had been signs, but your grandfather ignored them. Like always, he thought he knew best.”
“I’ll be there on the first flight,” Megan told her, dimly aware that another phone line had lit up, indicating that the ever-efficient Todd was already making the arrangements. He would clear her schedule, see that things ran smoothly in her absence. More than ever, she thought what a godsend he was.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll arrive,” she promised. “And I’ll arrange for a rental car.”
“No need to do that. There are cars here you can use. I will tell Señor Jake. He will pick you up.”
Megan was not so distraught that the name of a man she’d thought long gone from Whispering Wind, Wyoming, slipped past her. “Jake?”
“Sí. Señor Landers. You remember.”
Oh, yes, she remembered. All too well. Sexy. Arrogant. Big-time trouble. Also a man her grandfather had once despised. Tex had worked very hard to see that Jake was out of both their lives.
“Why is Jake Landers there?”
“I am sure he will explain it all to you.”
“You tell me,” Megan insisted.
“I do not know your grandfather’s business,” Mrs. Gomez said. “Just hurry home, niña.”
It was too late to worry about hurrying, Megan thought bleakly. It was too late for so many things she had vowed to do to let her grandfather know that she loved him, that she would be forever grateful for all he had done for her.
“I’m coming home, Tex,” she murmured.
But, of course, it was too late for that to matter, too.
2
“Is she coming?” Jake asked Tex O’Rourke’s housekeeper after she had talked to Megan.
“Well, of course she is,” Mrs. Gomez replied with a touch of indignation. “Did you think she would stay away at a time like this?”
The truth was Jake didn’t know what to think about Meggie after all these years. Once he’d had a world-class crush on her, but she’d been as out of reach to him then as if they’d lived on different planets. In a very real sense, they might as well have.
As Tex O’Rourke’s granddaughter, Megan had been part of Whispering Wind’s elite social circle, such as it was. Jake had been the son of the town whore and a troublemaker in his own right. No one was more stunned than Jake himself that he had wound up a lawyer. Then again, few people knew both sides of the law as well as he did.
Jake still wasn’t entirely certain what perversity had drawn him back to Whispering Wind a few months ago. Some would say he was returning to the scene of his crimes. Others would probably assess his motives even less charitably. The bottom line, though, was that he was back, and predictably enough, the whole town was still talking about it.
Ironically, Tex O’Rourke had been one of the few who hadn’t cast judgment, but then the old man knew better than most that not all of the tales about Jake’s misdeeds had been accurate. When Tex had turned up in Jake’s office late one afternoon asking for legal help, Jake wasn’t sure which of them had been the most uncomfortable.
The last time they’d met, Jake had been charged with trying to rustle cattle from Tex’s ranch. Even though he’d eventually been cleared of the charges, it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. As for Tex, he’d bought his way out of that misjudgment by sending Jake off to college, then funding his way through law school.
When his mother died before his graduation, Jake had had every intention of never setting foot in Whispering Wind again. He’d joined a prestigious law firm in Chicago, married and settled down, chasing after money the way he’d once chased after stray cattle.
Then he’d discovered his wife in bed with one of his law partners who was on an even faster track. In the midst of their very messy divorce, he’d won an acquittal for a guy who was a perpetual loser, only to discover the kid was guilty as sin. It hadn’t taken all that much encouragement from his stuffy, uptight, publicity-shy partners to get him to quit. Jake had taken his considerable savings and investments, his bruised and battered ego, and retreated to Whispering Wind. Maybe, he reasoned, if he finally dealt with his past, he’d be able to figure out his future.
Opening a law practice here had been a halfhearted gesture, a way to keep his old neighbors from referring to him as that lazy, no-account Landers boy once again. He’d figured not a soul in town would turn to him for legal advice, but he had enough money tucked away and enough income-producing investments not to care. In fact, whole days often passed before he stopped by to check his answering machine for messages from potential clients. He should have known the most powerful man in town—his reluctant benefactor—would be the first to show up and actually catch him sitting behind his desk.
“Surprised to see you back here,” Tex had said, sinking heavily into a chair opposite Jake.
“Displeased, too, I’ll bet.”
“No, the truth is, I’m glad for the chance to make it up to you for what happened back then. You’d done some foolish things. It was easy enough to believe you’d taken the cattle. I latched on to the notion when I shouldn’t have.”
It was more of an apology than Jake had expected. He shrugged, as if it made no difference at this late date. “You paid my way through school, old man. We’re even.”
“Not just yet,” Tex insisted. “I want to hire you. That’ll bring the rest of the folks in town flocking to you.”
Jake had shuddered at the prospect. He hadn’t actually wanted to be successful all over again. It certainly hadn’t suited him well the last time. “Thanks all the same, but I came home to take it slow and easy. I don’t need you building up business for me.”
“Yeah, I heard about that kid. Must have shaken you pretty bad.” Tex had regarded him knowingly. “Almost as bad as finding out your wife was cheating on you with a man you’d thought of as a friend.”
“I see you’ve kept up,” Jake said dryly, not the least bit surprised at the old man’s ability to ferret out secrets. Tex had always known what Jake and Megan were up to, that was for sure, and he’d done his best to see that things between them never went too far.
“You cost me enough,” Tex said, explaining away his interest. “I figured it was my duty to see how my investment was paying off.”
Anger, long denied, surfaced. “No, what cost you was misjudging me. I was never a thief, old man, and you should have known it. I respected you, looked up to you like a father. I gave you an honest day’s work for every penny you ever paid me, and then some.”
Tex nodded in agreement. “True enough. And that’s exactly what I expect of you now.”
“What kind of legal work do you want me to do?” Jake asked reluctantly.
“I want you to write up my will, make it airtight, so no legal shark can pull it apart after I’m gone.”
Jake studied him and noticed something he should have spotted earlier. Tex O’Rourke’s color was bad, his complexion ashen. His words came with a hitch in his breath. For a man not yet seventy, a man who’d always been in robust health, the changes were dramatic.
Jake was surprisingly shaken by the thought of his old nemesis dying. He’d realized in that instant that, even after all this time, he wanted to prove himself to this cantankerous old man. Until the day Tex had charged him with cattle rustling, he’d been the closest thing to a father figure Jake had ever known. The realization that there might not be much time left shook him.
“Is it your heart?” he asked, trying not to let his dismay show. Tex would hate pity more than most men, hate it coming from him even more.
“So the doc says. It’s my opinion I’m too contrary to die, but you never know where God stands on something like that, so I’m not taking any chances.” He leveled a look straight into Jake’s eyes. “Will you do it?”
Filled with reluctance, Jake reached for a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
An hour later he was reeling. “Megan’s going to be fit to be tied,” he said.
Tex shrugged. “She’ll adapt. It won’t be the first time life’s tossed her a curve.”
“Being dumped on your doorstep as a kid was one thing. She had no choice. Now she does. She has a successful career in New York. Why should she come back here?”
Tex slammed his fist on the desk, proving he still had power enough to make his point. “Because, by God, she’s my flesh and blood. She’ll do what’s right, because that’s the way I raised her.”
“She doesn’t know anything at all about this?” Jake asked. “You’ve told her nothing?”
“Not a word. She hasn’t been home in months now and this isn’t something I wanted to get into on the phone. If the doc’s right, she’ll find out soon enough.”
“And I’m the one who gets to break the news.”
Tex grinned at Jake’s discomfort. “You’ll enjoy it, son. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been itching for a way to get under Meggie’s skin since the first time you laid eyes on her. Now’s your chance to do it. Better yet, you’ll have my blessing. That ought to satisfy you.”
It was evident that afternoon that the old coot had thoroughly enjoyed the bombshell he’d dropped and the fix he was putting Jake in. Now it was time for Jake to follow through.
But how the devil was he supposed to tell Meggie that her beloved grandfather had had a short-lived liaison with what could only be described as an unsuitable woman? Moreover, Jake was expected to explain that Tex had fathered a child who was now eight years old and had only recently come to live with him, abandoned on his doorstep just as carelessly and indifferently as Megan had once been.
Even worse than all that, though, he was going to have to break the news that Megan O’Rourke—hot-shot media executive—was now this child’s legal guardian and that she was expected to raise the girl on the very ranch she had fled a decade earlier, or she would lose her inheritance.
Even in death, Tex O’Rourke was destined to turn several lives upside down—Jake’s among them. Tex was probably laughing all the way to hell.
Megan had done everything but beg. Nothing she’d said, though, had dissuaded Mrs. Gomez from sending Jake Landers to pick her up at the airport.
“He will be there, niña. Look for him. You will recognize him, Sí?”
Recognize Jake? Oh, yes. She would be able to pick that low-down, conniving son of a gun out of a crowd of thousands. Her personal radar had been attuned to him practically from the second she’d hit puberty. It had taken several long and painful years for her to discover that her radar was not capable of exercising good judgment. When he’d stolen Tex’s cattle, she’d finally realized her mistake. Jake had been securely locked behind bars when she’d left for college. His name had never once been mentioned in all the years since.
So what on earth was he doing at the ranch now? she wondered. And why was he running errands for Mrs. Gomez? Had her grandfather hired him once he’d been released on parole, maybe given him an undeserved second chance? Tex wasn’t sentimental, so she doubted it. Jake had probably pulled some scam to get back in her grandfather’s good graces.
When the plane landed in Laramie, Megan was the first one off. It didn’t take more than a quick glance around the waiting area to spot Jake. He was propped against a railing, dressed in black from head to toe, the stereotypical western bad guy from his Stetson to his boots. Even his reflective sunglasses spelled trouble. At least they prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes. He’d always been able to make her weak kneed with a glance from those piercing blue eyes.
“I’m glad to see you’re on time,” Megan said briskly, handing him her baggage claim slips. “Four bags, all matching, Gucci.”
He grinned. “Of course, they would be.”
His amused tone, the wash of his deep baritone, raised goose bumps. The sarcasm irritated. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped, already breaking her vow to remain cool and impersonal for however long she had to put up with his company.
“Just an observation, Meggie. Don’t get your drawers in a knot.”
“My drawers are none of your concern.”
He waved the luggage claim slips under her nose.
“Apparently they are, unless you’re wearing the only ones you brought.” He tilted his head consideringly. “Or don’t you bother with them these days?”
“Your mind’s in the gutter as always, I see,” she said, casting an imperious look his way and sweeping past him. She all but raced for the baggage claim area. Ten seconds, maybe less—that was how long it had taken the man to not only rile her, but remind her that she’d once wanted him with a passion so powerful it had threatened to wreck her life.
There had been a time when she would have chosen Jake Landers over anything. She would have ditched her dreams, settled for an uncertain future, if only this man were a part of it. Nothing anyone said could persuade her that Jake was all wrong for her. Then the cattle had gone missing, Jake had gone to jail and, brokenhearted and disillusioned, Megan had left Wyoming.
There hadn’t been a single day since that she had looked back with regret. He’d betrayed her as well as her grandfather. It was something she wasn’t likely to forgive or forget.
She supposed a case could be made that she owed him. His crime had revealed her first significant error in judgment, forced her to reevaluate her priorities. She now had the career she’d been destined for, thanks to Jake’s betrayal. She socialized with men who were rich and powerful and, most important, honest. Thanks to lessons learned, she was slow and cautious before trusting anyone. People took advantage of her at their own peril, because she had a reputation for being ruthless with those who tried.
Megan stood by while Jake gathered her luggage, then followed him to the parking lot. Though it was only mid-October, the air had the sharp bite of winter in it. She shivered as it cut through her lightweight wool jacket.
“I hope you brought something heavier than that to wear,” Jake said, opening the door for her. “They’re predicting snow for later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ve been dressing myself for years now.”
“When was the last time you were in Wyoming when cold weather hit?”
“Not that long ago,” she responded evasively, aware that there was a guilty flush in her cheeks.
“Does Christmas four years ago ring any bells?”
The accuracy rankled. “What have you been doing, grilling Mrs. Gomez?”
“Didn’t have to. She likes to talk,” he said as he started the engine. He glanced her way. “You’re one of her favorite subjects.”
“I’ll have to speak to her about that. I’m not sure I like being a topic of discussion for her and one of the hands.”
Jake’s posture behind the wheel of the fancy sports utility vehicle had been surprisingly relaxed, but his shoulders tensed at her remark. He turned toward her and, for the first time, removed the glasses and seared her with eyes that sparked blue fire.
“Maybe we should get something straight right now, Meggie. I’m here as a favor to Mrs. Gomez and, in a way, to your grandfather. I don’t work at your grandfather’s ranch. In fact, if things turn out the way I hope they will, before too much longer I’ll own it.”
If he’d roped her and dragged her feetfirst through the mud, she wouldn’t have been any more stunned. “Never,” she said fiercely. The idea of turning the ranch over to a man who’d stolen from her grandfather was thoroughly repugnant.
Her vehement response, however, only seemed to amuse him. “You planning on sticking around to run it?”
The question threw her. She actually hadn’t considered what was to become of the ranch. From the moment she’d heard about Tex’s death, all she’d thought about was the huge, gaping hole in her life. Even at a distance, Tex O’Rourke had been very much with her. Never again would she hear the gruffly spoken, “I love you, girl,” with which he’d ended every conversation, no matter how contentious. The hated ranch hadn’t once entered her mind.
Of course, it would be hers now. She was Tex’s only living relative, unless Sarah were around somewhere. He would expect Megan to run his cattle empire, no doubt about it. It wouldn’t matter to him that she knew precious little about ranching, that she hated it or that her life was exactly the way she wanted it—in New York. Duty, a word that had been bandied about enough over the years, was what mattered to Tex.
Megan’s grief gave way to despair. She couldn’t do it. She could not stay here, and that was that. She didn’t have to think about it, didn’t need to examine the moral dilemma she faced from every angle. She would stay in Whispering Wind long enough to take care of Tex’s affairs and then she would go back to New York.
“Well, Meggie, what is it? You going to stay or go?”
“I’ll be going,” she said at once. “But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I sell the ranch to you. I’ll let the place fall to ruin before I let you have it.”
She didn’t even stop to consider his arrogance in assuming he could afford it. If the man had accumulated millions, it still wouldn’t be enough to buy Tex’s ranch, not with the price tag she would put on it to keep it out of his reach.
“We’ll see,” Jake said. “There’s time enough to decide.”
His quiet confidence that she would eventually change her mind rattled her. The old Jake would have raged at her insulting dismissal, forced her to dig in her heels. This Jake with his mild response was leaving her wiggling room, a way to extricate herself from a hasty decision without losing face. Why? she wondered. What was he up to now? Had her grandfather made an agreement with him that she knew nothing about?
She felt his gaze on her and forced herself to face him. “What?”
“I haven’t said it before now, Meggie, but I am sorry about Tex. I know you loved him. More than that, I know he loved you. You’ll need to hang on to that in the days to come.”
There was genuine sympathy in his voice. That alone would have startled her, but she was pretty sure she heard something else, as well. A warning, perhaps, that there were shocks to come? Or was it no more than his awareness that making burial arrangements, the funeral itself, dealing with death’s aftermath would be grueling? That had to be it, she assured herself. What else could he have meant?
Unwanted and unexpected tears stinging her eyes at Jake’s sympathy, Megan turned away and stared out the window as he put the car into gear and headed for home. The drive took over an hour, with barely a word spoken. He seemed content enough to leave her to her thoughts. More than once she wished he’d say something, anything, just so she could pick a fight with him. Silence left her too much time to grieve, too much time to think about walking into the ranch house for the first time without Tex there to greet her.
By the time they turned into the ranch’s long, winding drive, the sun had vanished behind a bank of heavy, gray clouds. Snow, thick and wet, splashed against the windshield. The air, when she finally stepped out of the car’s warmth, was raw.
Leaving the luggage to Jake, she ran toward the front door, only to skid to a halt on the porch when the door was opened by a child of eight or nine, her eyes puffy and red from crying, her hair a tangle of thick auburn curls.
“Who’re you?” she demanded, glaring up at Megan.
“I’m Megan O’Rourke,” Megan responded automatically, then realized that she was the one who ought to be asking questions. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tess. I live here,” she declared with a hint of defiance.
Megan stared at her, as shocked as if the girl had uttered an especially vile obscenity. “That can’t be,” she murmured, just as Jake bounded onto the porch and tucked a supporting hand under her elbow to guide her inside.
The child regarded him with only slightly less hostility. “We’re about to have dinner. You gonna stay again?”
Jake ignored the lack of warmth in the invitation and grinned. “Chicken and dumplings?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Gomez said they were her favorites,” she said, gesturing toward Megan. She gave Megan another defiant look. “I hate chicken and dumplings.”
That said, she stomped off in the direction of the kitchen. Megan watched her go, then sank down on the nearest chair. “Who is that child and what is she doing here?” she demanded, already dreading the answer. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that whatever his response was, she was going to hate it. That red hair all but shouted that the girl was an O’Rourke.
“Her name is Tess,” Jake began.
“She told me that much.”
“Tess O’Rourke.”
The confirmation sent a shudder washing over her. Her gaze shot to his. “Please, don’t tell me…” She couldn’t even say it.
“She’s your grandfather’s daughter,” he said. “Which technically makes her your aunt, but I think you can be forgiven if you decide not to call her Auntie Tess.”
Megan had hoped for a distant cousin, maybe. Even a sister. But an aunt? It was ludicrous. “I don’t believe this,” she murmured. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it.”
“But how?”
“The usual way, I imagine. All I know for sure is that Tex just found out about her himself a few months back. She was abandoned on his doorstep. He didn’t think he should mention it on the phone.”
“Yeah, I can see why he might not want to,” Megan said wryly.
Jake was studying her sympathetically. “You okay?”
“Just peachy.”
“Good, because it gets more interesting.”
Megan shook her head. “I don’t think I can handle anything more interesting.”
“You’ll adapt. Isn’t that what you do best?”
He said it in a way that sounded more accusatory than complimentary. She didn’t have time to analyze why before he continued.
“According to your grandfather’s will, you are officially Tess’s legal guardian.”
“No,” she whispered, stunned not only by the concept, but by the weight of the responsibility. She hadn’t planned on having kids, at least not without going through the usual preparations—marriage, pregnancy, nine months to get used to the idea. She hadn’t even had nine seconds.
She tried to imagine taking a kid back to New York with her, fitting her into a life already stretched to its limits. Her imagination, always vivid, failed miserably.
“There has to be another way. Mrs. Gomez…”
“She’ll help out, certainly,” Jake said. “She’s told me she intends to stay on here as long as you need her.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” Megan said gratefully, relieved to have the issue settled so expeditiously.
“Not quite,” Jake said. “You can’t just dump Tess with Mrs. Gomez and take off.”
“Why the hell can’t I?” she all but shouted as panic flooded through her.
“Because Tex has spelled everything out in his will. I’ll give you a copy later.”
His intimate familiarity with the details of Tex’s wishes stirred suspicion. “How do you know so much about Tex’s will?” she asked, gaze narrowed.
“Because I’m the one who drew it up. Believe me, it’s airtight.”
Megan wondered just how many more shocks her heart could take before she wound up in a grave right next to Tex. “You’re a lawyer?”
“A damned good one, if I do say so myself. You renege on the terms Tex has spelled out and the ranch is up for grabs.” His expression turned triumphant. “In other words, it’ll be all but mine, Meggie, and there won’t be a damned thing you can do to stop it.”
3
Jake wasn’t sure what had gotten into him in the car. Why had he declared his intention to get his hands on Tex’s ranch? He’d been toying with the idea in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t decided on it. Far from it. He was still painting the inside of the modest little house he’d bought in town, discovering that he liked fixing leaky faucets and patching cracks in the walls. What did he need with a ranch?
Sure, owning such a spread would represent respectability. Even the doubters in Whispering Wind would have to take him seriously if he became the area’s biggest rancher. Mrs. Perkins at the general store might stop trailing him around as if he were about to steal a loaf of bread. The explanation made sense, but he had a hunch his motives were a whole lot more complicated than that.
Like making Meggie crazy, for one thing. Maybe just to taunt her into sticking around for the sake of that little girl who was in desperate need of someone to love. Though Tess hadn’t exactly warmed to him, he had to admit he had a soft spot for her.
The child had come from a background not all that different from his own. Whether she knew it yet or not, Tess had lucked out when her mother had dumped her on Tex’s doorstep. For all of his gruff demeanor, Tex was a man a person could count on. Losing him so unexpectedly and so soon had been a bad break. Getting Meggie for a mother, well, it remained to be seen how that would turn out.
While Megan went upstairs to clean up for dinner—and probably to gather her very rattled composure—Jake wandered into the kitchen, where he’d felt at home the very first time he’d walked through the door years and years ago. Mrs. Gomez had always fit his image of the perfect mother, such a far cry from his own that he thought she’d been conjured up straight out of a fairy tale. She was blustery and affectionate by turns, and she always had some treat in the oven.
“Sit, sit,” Mrs. Gomez encouraged now, waving him toward the table.
The aroma of sugar and chocolate competed with that of the chicken stewing on the stove. Unable to resist, Jake snatched a still-warm cookie from the baking sheet, then sat as she’d asked.
“How come he gets to have a cookie before supper and I don’t?” Tess demanded.
“Because he’s a grown-up and I can’t boss him around,” the housekeeper said.
“You can’t boss me around, either,” Tess said. “I’m not your kid.”
“No, niña, but you are my responsibility, and I will see that you do right, because that is what your father would have wanted.”
“Some father,” Tess muttered. “He didn’t even know I existed till I showed up here. I guess he and my mom weren’t real close.”
Jake caught Mrs. Gomez’s helpless look and stepped in. “He was here for you when it counted, wasn’t he? He took you in, made a home for you. The last few months haven’t been so bad, have they?”
Her bright green eyes shimmered with tears, reminding him of another little girl, another time. Tess’s lower lip trembled, but that O’Rourke chin jutted defiantly.
“Fat lot of good that does me now,” she declared. “He’s dead and I ain’t staying here with her.” She nodded toward the door to indicate the absent Megan, no doubt.
“I will be here, too,” Mrs. Gomez promised. “We will all get along just fine.”
“And I’ll be around,” Jake added.
“Over my dead body,” Megan retorted, striding into the room and heading straight for Mrs. Gomez, who opened her arms wide to embrace her.
“Ah, niña, it is good to have you home, but not so good that it is under these circumstances,” the housekeeper said. She tucked a finger under Megan’s chin and looked her in the eye. “You are holding up okay? Shall I fix you some tea? I have all of your favorites—raspberry, orange spice, whatever you like.”
Jake detected a hint of puffiness under Megan’s eyes and guessed she’d indulged in a good cry upstairs, where it could be done without witnesses. That had always been her way, ingrained in her by Tex, no doubt. Tex had been critical of emotional displays. Jake had seen Meggie swallow back tears no matter how much pain she might have been in, physical or emotional.
“I’m fine,” Megan insisted. Like Jake, she reached for a cookie and bit into it, oblivious to Tess’s expression of disgust.
“Geez-oh-flip, does everybody get to break rules around this place but me?” Tess demanded, scraping her chair away from the table. She shoved open the back door and disappeared into the gathering darkness.
“She does not have her coat,” Mrs. Gomez said worriedly, moving toward the hook by the door where the red, down-filled jacket hung. “It is too cold for her to be outside.”
“I’ll go,” Jake said, his hand on her shoulder. “You stay here with Megan.”
Glad of an excuse to escape the restlessness that seeing Meggie stirred in him, he grabbed Tess’s coat from the hook and flipped on an outdoor light as he went out. He spotted the child racing toward the barn, ducking into shadows. He suspected the new litter of kittens he’d heard about was at least part of the reason for her destination.
Sure enough, he found her kneeling beside a box that had been lined with an old flannel shirt, one of Tex’s favorites, if Jake wasn’t mistaken. He wondered if it had been confiscated for this particular duty before or after his death. Jake grinned at the sight of orange-and-white balls of fluff tumbling around inside the box, scrambling to get to their mama’s milk.
“They’re getting big,” he observed, hunkering down beside Tess. “Do you have a favorite?”
“Not really,” she said, but her gaze was fixed on the runt of the litter, who couldn’t seem to squeeze in to feed.
Jake reached down, picked the littlest kitten up and made room for it. “Looks like this one needs some extra attention,” he said, thinking it was a lot like Tess herself. Megan, too, though she would have hated the comparison.
“I suppose.”
“Maybe you should consider adopting it and taking it inside. It’s big enough now, especially if you bottle-fed it for a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t,” she said, though her expression was wistful.
“How come?”
“Tex said.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said he wasn’t having some damned cat bringing in fleas and tearing up the furniture.”
Jake held back a grin. He had a hunch she’d nailed the old man’s exact words. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“That if Tex could see how lonely you’ve been feeling the last day or so, he’d change his mind.”
Her face brightened. “Do you think so?”
“I know so,” Jake insisted, because there wasn’t a chance in hell the old man could contradict him. Tess needed something weaker and needier to tend to right now. He doubted Mrs. Gomez would have any objections. He knew for a fact there were cats crawling all over her own house. She took in every stray that ever came to the door, him included. On more than one occasion, she’d been the one he’d run to when he couldn’t bear one more night in the same house with his mother and her “gentlemen callers.”
He glanced up from the kittens and caught Tess studying him intently.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Is she going to keep me?”
“You mean Megan?”
Tess nodded, her expression bleak. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“You just took her by surprise, that’s all. No one had told her about you.”
“Well, having her come busting in here like she owns the place ain’t no picnic for me, either.”
“She does own the place,” Jake pointed out gently.
“Then how come she doesn’t live here?”
“Because she’s got a job in New York.”
“That TV show,” Tess said, feigning disinterest despite the spark of fascination that lit her eyes. “Tex used to watch it sometimes. He didn’t think I knew that, but I did. Sometimes I’d hide out in his office behind that big old chair of his. Right after dinner, he’d come in there, put in the tape and watch, muttering to himself.”
“Ever hear what he said?”
“That it was damned fool nonsense,” she quoted, probably precisely. “You know what I think, though?”
“What?”
“That he was real proud of her. He never looked at me the way he looked at that show of hers.” Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t think he gave a damn about me at all.”
Ignoring the substance of the remark for the moment, he chided, “You know, kiddo, you really do need to clean up your language. Ladies don’t swear half as much as you do.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be no lady.”
Jake grinned at the defiance. “What do you want to be?”
Her expression brightened. “A rancher, just like Tex,” she said decisively. “Then I could boss people around and make lots of money and ride horses.” She met Jake’s gaze. “He was teaching me to ride. Did you know that? That’s when it happened. He fell right down on the ground. I screamed and screamed for somebody to come, but it took forever. I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen that CPR stuff on TV, but I didn’t know how to do it. Not the right way, anyway. I tried and tried, but nothing helped.”
Sobs shook her shoulders. “I didn’t mean for him to die,” she whispered brokenly, launching herself at Jake. Her skinny little arms wound so tightly around his neck that he could scarcely breathe. “Sometimes I said I hated him and sometimes I said I wished he were dead, but I never meant it. Never.”
“Oh, baby, I know that,” Jake soothed, feeling totally out of his depth. “Tex was sick. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But if I hadn’t come, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten sick.”
“No. That’s not the way it works. He’d been sick for a while. He told me that himself. His heart just gave up. It could have happened anytime. I promise you, you had nothing to do with it.”
Slowly Tess’s sobs subsided. She sniffed, accepted Jake’s handkerchief and blew her nose. She blinked away the last of the tears and regarded him evenly. “I got an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m thinking I should come and live with you.”
Jake realized he had walked right smack into that one. He’d made it a point to spend time with Tess the past couple of weeks, anticipating what might happen, knowing the kid would need a friend until she adjusted to all the upheaval.
Not that seeing Tess had been any sacrifice. She was bright and funny, and she did have a mouth on her. She didn’t like him, didn’t trust him and had no qualms about telling him just that. Jake had overlooked it all and stayed the course. The fact that she was willing to turn to him now proved he’d done the right thing. With persistence, he’d slipped past her defenses. It was critical to tred carefully.
He took her hands in his and kept his gaze on her face. “Honey, you know that’s not possible. I explained it to you before. Tex named Megan your legal guardian in case anything happened to him.”
“But she doesn’t want me,” Tess said, wrenching herself free. Hands on hips, she faced him. “You know she doesn’t. I’ll mess up her life.”
“It’s going to take a little time for her to get used to the idea, just the way it took time for you to get used to being here with Tex. Everybody’s real upset about Tex right now. I told you before, I’ll be around. You can come to me with any problem, but you can’t live with me.”
“Then I’ll go find my mom.”
Jake had anticipated that sooner or later that thought would occur to her. Rather than squashing the notion outright, he asked quietly, “Any idea where she is?”
“No, but I can find her. I’ll just ask a lot of questions till somebody tells me. She’s probably back in Laramie. That’s where we lived before she brought me here.”
Jake knew better. He’d searched Laramie for some trace of Tess’s mother himself. “Honey, she’s probably moved on.”
“I can find her. I know it.”
“Tell me something,” Jake said. “Do you study geography in school?”
“Sure.”
“Then you know it’s a big country. Your mom could be anywhere.”
She stared at him, then. A look of utter defeat crossed her face. “It could take forever, then, couldn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Nothing’s fair.”
“No,” he said gently. “There’s nothing fair about losing your dad almost before you really got a chance to know him. There’s nothing fair about your mama running out on you. But it is going to work out, Tess. I swear to you. Megan’s got a good heart. You’ll get along well enough.”
“You can’t make her care about me,” she said, with the weary resignation of someone who’d learned too early that love was never a guarantee, not even from a parent.
“I can’t make her, no, but she will, honey. I know she will.” If he had to hog-tie her and explain a few facts of life, Megan O’Rourke would do right by this child. Just as Tex had predicted, Jake would enjoy every single minute of seeing to it.
If it had been up to Megan, Tex’s funeral would have been private. It was Jake who handed her a letter with Tex’s wishes spelled out. He wanted something lavish, even though he hadn’t set foot inside of a church in years.
“The service isn’t for me. I’ll already be wherever I’m heading,” he’d written. “It’s for you, Megan. I want you to be surrounded by the steady, solid folks around here. Maybe it’ll help you to remember what it’s like to have friends who can share your grief, who’ll be there for you and expect nothing in return. Seems to me like you’ve accumulated enough of the other kind in New York.”
She sighed at his words. Leave it to Tex to take a dig at her life-style while laying out his own funeral arrangements. She forced herself to read on.
“After all the hoopla’s over, bury me quietly on that rise overlooking the creek,” he’d instructed. “I’ve already made arrangements for my tombstone. It’s nothing fancy, so don’t you go adding any flowery sentiments to it. Plain and simple will do me just fine.”
When she’d finished reading, she folded the letter precisely and tucked it back into the plain white envelope with her name scrawled across the front in Tex’s careless script.
“I suppose you know what it says,” she said to Jake, irritated that he’d been taken into her grandfather’s confidence when she had not.
“The gist of it,” he agreed. “Obviously, the details are up to you, but he made his feelings known.”
“And, of course, I’ll do as he asked,” she said wearily.
Jake studied her intently. “About everything?”
“You’re talking about Tess, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Jake, I can’t think about that now. I really can’t. I’m feeling…” Her voice trailed off and she held up her hands in a rare gesture of helplessness.
“Lost? Overwhelmed? Angry?” he supplied.
She caught herself wanting to smile at the litany, which was eerily accurate, reminiscent of a time when Jake had read her mind with ease. “Pretty much,” she admitted.
“Some of this you’ll have to handle yourself, but in terms of the funeral, if you’re agreeable to what Tex wanted, you can sit back and leave the rest to me,” Jake offered. “I’ll make the arrangements for the service and the burial.”
She balked at letting him take on that task. Duty came to mind again. “It’s my responsibility.”
He shook his head and grinned. “Ah, Meggie, you never did know when to let go, did you? I’m surprised you haven’t gone up in flames with all that’s on your plate in New York. Do you trust anyone to handle even the tiniest detail?”
She thought of Todd and his incredible efficiency. “Of course,” she snapped.
Jake’s steady gaze was skeptical. “Really?”
Okay, she admitted to herself, the truth was that not much got past without her final approval. Her staff sometimes chafed at the lack of faith, but she reminded them repeatedly that it was her name on the magazine, her image on the television screen, her reputation on the line. Admitting any of that to Jake, though, was not an option.
“It’s a funeral, not a presidential inauguration. I can handle it,” she informed him. “I’ll be sure and call your office when the time is set.”
He grinned and settled back in the easy chair opposite her—Tex’s chair, the leather one that was oversize to fit a big man. Jake looked as at home in it as Tex ever had. The relief she felt at Jake’s being there unnerved her. The house was too empty without Tex. She accepted the fact that it would have felt that way even if it had been crowded with people. She told herself that a cattle thief was a poor substitute for the honorable man her grandfather had been, but she was a little too grateful for the company just the same. That made it all the more important to see that he left.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asked testily.
“You trying to get rid of me, Meggie?”
“I was hoping to, yes,” she said bluntly. “I’m tired, Jake. It’s been a long, grueling day.”
“I’m sure it has been,” he agreed. “But there are matters we have to discuss.”
“Tonight?”
“I think so.”
“Such as?”
“Tess.”
Her head pounded just thinking about Tess. “I told you I am not talking about Tess.”
“You can’t ignore the subject, Megan. She’s not going to vanish overnight.”
Megan closed her eyes as if to deny the truth of what he was saying. Unfortunately, Tess was very real and apparently very much her responsibility. Megan didn’t have to see the terms of Tex’s will in black and white to prove it. She doubted that Jake, for all of his flaws, would have the audacity to lie about something so important.
“I can’t deal with this now.”
“You have to,” he insisted.
“Aren’t you the one who just finished saying that Tess wasn’t going anywhere? I’ll deal with that situation tomorrow.”
“Or the next day or the one after that,” he suggested sarcastically. “She’s a kid. You can’t just back-burner her until it’s convenient. She needs some reassurance that things are going to work out, that you’ll take care of her now. She’s already convinced you don’t want her. Can you imagine how insecure that makes her feel?”
The memory of another terrified, insecure little girl came back to haunt her. Megan tried to push it aside, bury it where it belonged, in the past. “Where did this show of concern come from?” she asked Jake. “I don’t remember you being the fatherly type.”
“I’m talking common decency here. Tess is scared. Can you blame her? Of all people, you ought to know what it feels like to be dumped on someone’s doorstep.”
Megan shuddered despite herself. The memories flooded back once more. It had been more than two decades ago and she still remembered how terrifyingly alone she had felt in a strange house, knowing that her mother had gone away, more than likely for good.
What was it about the women in Tex’s life—his own daughter, Tess’s mama, even Megan herself—that they all fled? Had they been overwhelmed by the sheer force of his personality? Had they needed to escape to find themselves?
“I’ll check on Tess when I go upstairs,” she said, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t leave her in peace without such a promise.
“It’ll take more than a kiss on the cheek and tucking the blankets around her to fix things,” Jake pointed out, still not satisfied.
“Dammit, I know that,” Megan said, frustrated by his persistence. “I’ll do what I can. You’ve known about this for how long now? Weeks, maybe. Months. I’ve had less than a day. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m inept at the maternal bit. As you just reminded me, I never had an example to go by.”
He looked vaguely guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds.”
“Of course you did. And you were right,” she admitted with a sigh. “I should be more understanding, since I went through the exact same thing.” She thought of Tess’s attitude. The child had deliberately done everything in her power to goad Megan all through dinner. “She’s not making it easy, you know.”
Jake clearly wasn’t persuaded. “Did you?”
She thought back. She’d pretty much challenged Tex every chance she got until the ground rules were laid out and had taken hold. “I suppose not.”
“You’re the grown-up now, Meggie. Do what you wish had been done for you way back then.” That said, he finally seemed satisfied that he’d done what he could. He stood up and headed for the door. “You need anything, call.”
“I’ll manage.”
He shook his head. “Whatever.” At the door, he paused. “We’ll go over the rest of Jake’s will after the funeral, okay? That’ll be soon enough.”
Megan doubted there were any more bombshells to be dropped. Just in case, though, she muttered, “I can’t wait.”
As soon as Jake was gone, she slipped over to Tex’s chair just as she had so many times in the past the instant her grandfather had left the room. The leather was still warm from Jake’s heat. She could almost pretend that Tex himself had just been sitting there, but it was Jake’s scent that surrounded her tonight. Despite her reluctance to accept anything at all from him, she curled up in the spot where he’d been and took comfort from the lingering traces of his presence.
She thought of the pushy, irritating man who’d just left, the angry little girl upstairs and the sneaky old coot who was gone forever.
“Oh, Tex,” she whispered, battling fresh tears. “What have you done to me?”
4
The slightly plump woman standing on the front porch with an armload of casserole dishes had a wary expression in her eyes, as if she were uncertain of her welcome. Her arrival had taken Megan by surprise. In New York she wasn’t used to people dropping by, and even if they did, there was a whole layer of security built in before they ever reached her. Surprise didn’t take away the pleasure, however. It had been way too long since she’d seen her onetime best friend.
“Megan, it’s me, Peggy,” the woman announced in an insecure rush before Megan could acknowledge her. “I probably should have called first, but we don’t stand on ceremony much around here. It’s probably not like that in New York. What with all you do, you probably have a zillion secretaries to keep people from bothering you.” She thrust the food toward Megan. “I’ll just leave this and run along.”
If she’d slowed down for even a second, Megan would have welcomed her with a hug, but Peggy had always chattered on without pausing for breath. Being ill at ease only made her worse. Megan snagged her friend’s arm as she turned away.
“You get in here, Peggy. You’re not going anywhere,” Megan insisted.
Peggy’s expression brightened. “Are you sure? I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“How could you possibly be a bother? Now get in here. Let me take this into the other room and I’ll be right with you.”
She waited until Peggy had come inside before carrying the still-warm casseroles toward the dining room table, which was already heaped with offerings from other neighbors. When she returned to the foyer, Peggy was still regarding her uncertainly.
“I wasn’t sure you’d even remember me,” she confessed.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Megan said, startled by the statement. “We grew up together. I slept over at your house whenever Tex would let me. You know more of my secrets than anyone else on earth. How could you possibly think I wouldn’t remember you?”
Peggy shrugged. “It’s been a long time.” She said it without judgment or rancor, just a statement of fact that spoke volumes about the way Megan had cut not only Whispering Wind, but everyone in it out of her life. There’d been no cards, no letters, not even a quick, occasional phone call to Peggy.
“I’m sorry,” Megan said sincerely. “I never meant for so much time to go by. Can you stay for a bit? We can make up for lost time.”
Even as she said the words, she realized just how much she had missed having a real confidante, someone who knew her inside out and never judged. She had hundreds of acquaintances now, but few good friends and absolutely no one who shared a lifelong history with her. Seeing Peggy and remembering middle-of-the-night confidences, shared dreams and irrepressible giggles made her feel the absence in a way she never had before.
“Are you sure?” Peggy asked. “I know you must have a million and one things to do. We’re all real sorry about Tex. If there’s anything you need, you just have to ask. Wilma at the funeral home said you’d been in to arrange for the services. Everyone’ll be there, of course. Tex touched a lot of lives around here. I never realized how many till I was grown and on my own. Kids never do, I guess.” She paused and grinned. “I guess you can tell I still go on and on. Just hush me up whenever you’re tired of hearing my voice. Johnny says I could talk a man to death. He believes that’s how I get my way so often.”
Megan searched her memory. The image of a freckle-faced blond boy with an untamable cowlick and a shy smile came to mind. “You married Johnny Barkley?”
“Who else?” Peggy said. “I mooned over him long enough. I guess I just wore him down. We have three children, two boys and a girl, which explains how I’ve managed to put on twenty pounds I don’t need and turned most of my hair gray, though you can’t tell it because of the blond rinse I’ve been using. I’ll be darned if I’m going to look old before my time the way my mama did. Of course, she looks terrific now that she’s down in Arizona. She had herself a facelift last year. I swear she looks almost as young as me.”
“Well, you certainly look wonderful,” Megan said with total sincerity. Despite the extra weight, Peggy looked healthy and happy—contented in a way that Megan found herself envying without knowing why. Her green eyes sparkled with merriment, just as they had when she and Megan were children.
“Go on into the living room and have a seat,” Megan urged. “I’ll have Mrs. Gomez fix us some tea. Or would you rather have coffee?”
“I’ll have a soda if she has one. Any kind will do.”
“A Dr Pepper,” Megan said, suddenly remembering. They had gone through cases of the stuff. “I’ll bet there are some in the fridge.”
In the kitchen, she found the housekeeper trying to stuff the already overloaded refrigerator with yet another casserole that had just been delivered to the back door by a neighbor who hadn’t wanted to bother Megan.
“It’s a good thing the funeral’s tomorrow or all this food would go bad,” she said. “Not much of a loss, if you ask me. There’s not an enchilada in the lot of them.”
“Maybe folks figure your spicy cooking is what put Tex in his grave and they’re not taking any chances,” Megan teased, then regretted it when she saw the sheen of tears in the housekeeper’s eyes. Megan wrapped her arms around her. “Don’t you dare cry. If you do, you’ll have me weeping.”
“Crying might do you some good. Better to let your emotions out than keep them all bottled up the way Tex made you do,” the housekeeper said with undisguised disapproval. “You remember when that boy—Bobby Temple, Sí? He shoved you down in the mud in your brand-new winter coat. You were crying and carrying on. Tex gave you one of those looks of his and said, ‘Girl, an O’Rourke always holds his chin up high and we never, ever cry over things that are over and done.’”
Mrs. Gomez had captured Tex’s words exactly. Megan had heard them often enough. She gave the housekeeper another hug. “Oh, I’ll do my share of crying before this is over,” she assured her. “Right now, though, Peggy’s here and we were wondering if there’s any Dr Pepper around.”
Mrs. Gomez’s expression brightened. “I believe there’s some in the pantry. I’ll fill some tall glasses with lots of ice the way you used to like it, and I’ll bring it right along.”
“I’ll get it. You have enough to do.” Megan found an entire case of the soft drink in the pantry. Emerging with a couple of cans, she regarded the housekeeper with a wry look. “I take it you were expecting Peggy to drop by.”
“Of course, niña. She is your best friend. Where else would she be at a time like this?”
Some friend I’ve been, Megan thought as she took the drinks into the living room. Peggy was married and had three children Megan had known nothing about until today. She’d never even asked after her friend when she’d talked to Tex, and he wasn’t one to volunteer information.
In the living room she found Peggy perched on the edge of the sofa as if she still might take off at any second. Once she would have been curled up in a corner of that same overstuffed sofa with her shoes kicked off and a fat pillow hugged to her middle.
Megan handed a glass to her friend and sat at the opposite end. “Okay, then. Married. Three kids. What else have you been up to?”
Peggy gave her an amused look. “I can tell you don’t have kids, if you have to ask a question like that. Three of them, all under the age of ten, pretty much eliminates anything except sleeping six hours a night if I’m lucky.”
Megan thought of Tess and the disruptions she faced to her own life, and shuddered. “I imagine I’ll be finding out for myself soon enough,” she said, testing the idea aloud for the first time.
Though she’d been praying for some other solution, Jake’s words and a long night of restless tossing and turning had left her fully aware that she couldn’t simply abandon the girl, no matter how much either of them would have preferred it. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she simply walked away.
Peggy gave her an understanding look. “Then you know about Tess? I’d wondered.”
“Oh, yes, I know. I found out when I got here.”
“Sweet heaven! Not before?” Peggy asked, clearly shocked. “It’s been the talk of the town for months now. I thought surely Tex would have told you.”
“No one thought to tell me,” Megan said with undisguised bitterness. “Of course, Mrs. Gomez wouldn’t think it was her place. And apparently Tex didn’t think he should mention it in passing during one of his phone calls. Better to let the bomb drop when he’s not around to see the fallout. According to his lawyer, I’m expected to rise to the occasion.”
“It’ll be an adjustment, I’m sure, but it won’t be that bad. She’s a good kid,” Peggy said. “She’s spent some time at our house. She and my girl are friends, at least most days. Tess doesn’t make it easy. Then, who can blame her? It can’t have been easy having a mama walk out and getting left with a man she’d never even met before. That mama of hers ought to roast in hell for what she did.”
“Apparently that place in hell is going to be crowded with Tex’s women,” Megan observed. “The habit goes all the way back to my mother—beyond if you consider the fact that Grandmother died when my mother was barely five.”
Peggy’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just that it was so long ago, what happened to you. You’ve done so well, I suppose I never think about the scars it might have left inside.”
“No scars,” Megan insisted staunchly. “You’re right. My life is as close to perfect as anything I could ever have imagined.”
“Perfect, huh? That’s certainly the impression you give on TV and in your magazine. Makes the rest of us downright envious. How’s Tess going to fit into that?”
Megan sighed. “I wish to heaven I knew.”
“Well, if anyone can make it work, it’s you,” Peggy said with absolute confidence. “After all, aren’t you the woman who tells the whole world how to turn lemons into lemonade? I swear to goodness, I think you could take the rattiest old thing lying around and turn it into some fancy decorative accent. I watched that show of yours one day and dragged an old cradle out of the basement and turned it into a planter. Johnny thought at first I was hinting about having another baby, but then I stuck a couple of ferns in there and he admitted it looked right nice. Said the watering’s likely to rot the wood before the next generation comes along, but so what? I doubt they’ll appreciate anything that doesn’t come from some discount store, anyway. Plastic’s practical. Even my mama says that, though it makes me shudder when she does. Last time I went down to Arizona to see her, I swear to goodness I was shocked. Her idea of decorating is picking up whatever’s on sale at Wal-Mart. You should have seen the mishmash. It would have brought tears to your eyes.”
Megan chuckled. “Oh, Peggy, I have missed you. No one cuts through to the heart of things the way you do. Don’t ever change.”
“I don’t suppose I could if I wanted to. This is who I am and, thank goodness, Johnny loves me for it.” She paused and studied Megan carefully. “You’ve changed, though.”
“How?” Megan asked, expecting her to say something about the expensive highlights in the sophisticated, yet casually short hairstyle that had replaced the ponytails of her youth. Or maybe something about the elegant clothes that were a far cry from the worn-out blue jeans and frayed cotton shirts she had once favored.
“You’re warier,” Peggy said thoughtfully. “Jake’s responsible for that, I suppose. It must have come as a shock to find him here. I know everyone in town was certainly stunned when he came back. Then he and your grandfather got to be thick as thieves at the end, no pun intended, and no one knew what to make of it. To give the devil his due, Jake’s still the handsomest thing walking around Whispering Wind.
“Not that I’d trade my Johnny,” she added hurriedly. “No, indeed. Johnny’s a man you can rely on. No surprises. Jake Landers is the kind of man who can break a woman’s heart, but who would know that better than you?”
“That was a long time ago. Jake Landers means nothing to me now,” Megan said firmly. “Nothing.”
Peggy looked startled by her vehemence, then a slow grin spread across her face. “Oh, my, so that’s the way it is, is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Megan insisted, despite the heat she could feel climbing into her cheeks.
Peggy went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Of course, he’s a respected lawyer now. I suppose it could work. And Tex isn’t around to stand in your way—”
“Enough!” Megan interrupted. “I am not the least bit interested in Jake. That was over and done with a very long time ago. He stole Tex’s cattle, for heaven’s sake. How could I give two figs about a man who would betray my grandfather that way after Tex had brought him out here and given him work?”
Peggy regarded her oddly.
“What?” Megan asked.
“He didn’t do it,” Peggy said. “Surely you knew that.”
She sounded so confident, so sure of her facts that Megan was taken aback. “Jake didn’t steal the cattle? Are you sure?”
“Well, of course I am. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” Peggy shook her head. “No, I take that back. It makes perfect sense. Tex certainly wouldn’t tell you. Not only was he a man who never cared for admitting a mistake, but he wouldn’t have wanted you running straight back to Jake. I always wondered if he didn’t have something to do with those charges being trumped up in the first place, but then I couldn’t imagine a man as upstanding as Tex O’Rourke doing such a low-down thing.”
“Peggy, what are you talking about?” Megan demanded, cutting into the rambling monologue.
“There were no stolen cattle,” Peggy said succinctly.
“Of course there were. Why else—”
“No, it was all some huge mistake. Or so they claimed once the dust settled. That’s why your grandfather paid for Jake to go to college and law school, to make up for midjudging him.”
“Tex paid for Jake’s education?” Megan repeated, stunned.
“Every penny.”
“And the cattle were never stolen.” She couldn’t seem to grasp the implications of that.
“Nope. They’d just wandered off to some other pasture, according to the story that came out eventually. They were grazing a few miles up the mountain, happy as could be.”
“He never said a word,” Megan whispered. “Not one word.”
“Who, Tex?”
“No. Jake. All these years he’s let me go on thinking the worst of him.”
“What did you expect? The man had his pride. You were supposed to know him better than anybody on earth and you thought he was a thief. Never even had a doubt about it, as far as I can recall. Is it any wonder he never said a word, after the way you let him down?”
The accusation stung, in part because of the truth of it, in part because it was coming from a woman who’d never been a particularly big fan of Jake’s back then. Now Peggy sounded like a blasted cheerleader. Obviously the tide had turned in Whispering Wind.
“I wonder if he’ll ever be able to forgive me,” Megan said, surprised and dismayed to find that it suddenly mattered. All those years of thinking of Jake as the bad guy were nothing more than wasted time and wasted regrets. It was just one more thing to hold against Tex. At this rate, by the time the funeral came along in the morning, Megan was going to be glad to see the sneaky old coot buried.
There was a light dusting of snow on the ground when Tex was finally laid to rest on the hill overlooking his spread of land. A mountain of flowers covered the grave, from the splashy, elaborate arrangements he would have loved to the simple bouquet of daisies that Jake had helped Tess pick out at the florist in town.
All during the service Tess had kept her hand tucked in his while huge, silent tears rolled down her cheeks. He had a feeling it was the only display of genuine emotion in the entire crowd of mourners. Most people were here because it was expected. Some had come out of curiosity, because they wanted to see the hot-shot from New York who’d once lived just down the road.
As for Meggie, she certainly didn’t appear all that broken up. Dry-eyed and coolly competent, she looked as if she were worried about nothing more than catering details, when he knew for a fact her heart had to be breaking. Still, five minutes after the service ended, she was back at the house, issuing orders to the temporary kitchen staff and putting the final touches on an elaborate buffet for the mourners. She did it all with a brisk efficiency that proved entertaining a crowd this size was second nature to her.
As he watched her place steaming platter after steaming platter on the table, Jake couldn’t help wondering what had happened to all the food the neighbors had dropped off in Pyrex dishes covered with foil. Probably not up to her fancy standards.
She stood by the table and frowned at some flaw Jake couldn’t detect. He wandered over to stand beside her.
“Something wrong?”
Megan barely glanced at him. “There’s something missing, but I can’t pinpoint what it is,” she said with evident frustration.
“Nobody’s going to notice if you’ve left off a saltshaker or a serving spoon. They’re coming by to show their support and their sympathy, not to see if Megan O’Rourke can throw a great party,” he reassured her, even though he’d been thinking exactly that about the mourners’ motives earlier.
When she would have protested, he tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Meggie, it’s not a test.”
For a moment tears swam in her eyes. She looked lost and surprisingly vulnerable. “I have to get it right,” she whispered. “For Tex.”
“Then you should have thrown a barbecue and been done with it. That was Tex’s style, Meggie. Not all this fancy silver.”
He’d meant it to be reassuring, but he knew instantly she took it the wrong way. Fire flashed in her eyes.
“Are you saying I’ve gotten this wrong, too? Well, who the hell are you to tell me what my grandfather would or wouldn’t like?” she exploded. “He was my grandfather, dammit. Just because you somehow managed to cozy up to him these last few months doesn’t mean you knew him better than me, Jake Landers. It doesn’t.”
With that she burst into tears and fled to the kitchen. Jake hadn’t intended to goad her into an outburst, but he couldn’t help being glad he’d broken through that tough act she’d been putting on for everyone’s benefit. He was about to follow her when the housekeeper put a hand on his arm.
“Let her go,” Mrs. Gomez said.
“I should have been more sensitive, I suppose,” he said, but without much real regret.
“No. She needed a good cry, but she won’t like you seeing it. You being the cause gives her an excuse she can handle right now. Thinking of Tex being dead and buried is still too much for her.”
“Is she going to be all right?” he asked, still staring worriedly after her.
“Oh, I imagine she’ll be just fine in time. Megan’s a strong, resilient woman. She’s had to be all her life. Her world’s a little topsy-turvy right now, but she’ll set it straight soon enough.”
It sounded kinder when Mrs. Gomez said it than it had when he’d sarcastically accused Megan of being adaptable. “Will she be okay with Tess?”
“As I said, she is resilient. She is also good-hearted. She will do what is right for the child.”
Still staring after Meggie, Jake sighed. “There have been a lot of times these last few months when I’ve regretted letting Tex talk me into drawing up that will of his. This is one of them.”
“If you hadn’t done it, someone else would have. Better that it was someone who knows Meggie, someone who cares about her and can see her through this.”
His gaze shot to hers. “I never said…”
She patted his cheek. “You didn’t have to. It is in your eyes. It always has been.” She gestured toward the table. “Now pile a plate up with some of this food and eat. You will need your strength for what’s to come, Sí?”
Jake had a feeling he could eat every last scrap on the buffet and still not be strong enough to deal with Meggie when she found out about Tex’s final devious scheme to get her back to Wyoming for good.
5
Tears streaming down her cheeks and, no doubt, destroying her carefully applied makeup, Megan retreated to the back steps, where she was pretty sure no one would find her. The fight with Jake had been absurd. She knew that. But it had set off a whole slew of insecurities and stirred up anger and resentment that she’d kept pretty well tucked away inside for the past couple of days.
The anger had been misdirected, of course. It was Tex she was furious with, not Jake. She was mad at him for being sneaky and conniving and, most of all, for being dead.
Now she’d never have the chance to tell him that she loved him, that she owed him or that she was sorry they’d fought. It was too late to take back what she’d said—not that she would have—about belonging in New York, not Wyoming, no matter how much it hurt him to hear it.
The cold air was drying the tears on her cheeks and setting up goose bumps when she heard a soft, shuffling sound and noticed Tess creeping up beside her. The girl’s face was streaked with dried tears and dirt, and her hair was a tangle of mussed curls and straw. Obviously she’d paid another visit to the barn. As pitiful as she appeared, she still shot a defiant look at Megan.
“Why are you crying?” Tess demanded, as if Megan had no right to shed tears over Tex.
“Same reason as you, I imagine.”
“You didn’t care about Tex,” Tess accused.
“Yes, I did,” Megan corrected mildly.
“Sure didn’t show it. I been here six months and this is the first I’ve seen of you.”
“Because I work in New York.”
“So? You make a lot of money, least that’s what Tex said. You could have come home, if you’d wanted to.”
Megan sighed. “Yes, I suppose I could have.”
Tess seemed startled by the quick admission. “How come you didn’t, then?”
“It’s complicated,” Megan said, for lack of a better explanation.
“Complicated how?” Tess asked, refusing to be put off.
Was this what life was going to be like from now on? Was she going to be asked tough questions by a kid, rather than a reporter? Megan struggled to find a plausible answer that would satisfy an eight-year-old. “Tex and I didn’t always see eye to eye about the choices I made.”
“Like what?”
“Like me living in New York.”
“You liked it better than here?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it,” Tess said. “This place is the best. There’s stuff to do and it’s real pretty. Why would you rather be in some big, ugly city, all crowded in?”
The characterization of New York had Tex’s stamp all over it. Megan had heard it often enough over the years. She supposed now was as good a time as any to contradict it, to get Tess excited about the prospect of moving east.
“Because my work is there,” she explained. “And because it’s filled with people from all over the world. It’s amazing, like no place else I’ve ever been. It’s bright and glitzy and energetic. There’s something going on every minute. There are museums and plays and wonderful restaurants. You’ll see.”
Tess regarded her suspiciously. “What do you mean, I’ll see?”
“When you come there to live with me.”
Tess backed up, her expression as horrified as if Megan had suggested taking her on a spaceship to an alien world. “I’m not coming there. No way. You can’t make me, either.”
Megan reached out a hand, but Tess moved farther away.
“This is where I live. It’s where I belong,” the girl all but shouted. “Tex said. He promised!”
Tess turned then and ran, leaving Megan shaken. She hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. Why hadn’t Tex prepared Tess? Foolish question. Because he hadn’t believed he was going to die. Then again, there was the will, naming her as Tess’s guardian. That proved he had known. He’d just chosen not to stir things up. He’d left that to Jake.
As if just thinking about him had conjured him up, Jake appeared at the doorway behind her, his expression filled with concern.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just peachy,” she said without looking up.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier.”
Megan started to lie, to protest that he wasn’t even capable of upsetting her, but she didn’t have the energy for the debate that would have inevitably followed. Instead, she just shrugged, as if it were of no consequence.
“People are beginning to leave,” he said. “They’d like to say goodbye, if you’re up to it.”
Because it was expected, she stood and brushed herself off, patted her cheeks to smooth out her makeup, and offered Jake a bright smile.
“Of course I’m up to it. The O’Rourkes don’t indulge in self-pity.”
“No one would think any less of you today if you did,” Jake noted.
“I would,” she muttered, and swept past him. In her business world, appearances mattered. In Wyoming, they mattered, too, though for very different reasons. Here it was important not to seem standoffish, to be the good neighbor that Tex had been, to show what O’Rourkes were made of.
Megan kept that smile plastered on her face for the next hour as she accepted condolences from dozens of people she’d never met before and dozens more she hadn’t seen in years.
When the last of them had left, she sank into a chair and breathed a sigh of relief. But she realized she’d done it a bit too soon when Jake settled into a chair opposite her. He’d shed the jacket of his black suit and loosened his tie, which gave him a rumpled, sexy look that would have been hard to resist if she hadn’t been so utterly exhausted.
“I thought you’d gone,” she said.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said wryly. “But we have business to take care of, unless you’d rather come into town tomorrow.”
She was sorely tempted to take him up on the delay, but that would be cowardly. “No,” she said finally. “Let’s just get it over with. I can see you won’t be happy until you’ve spilled whatever deep, dark secrets have been nagging at you ever since I got here.”
He pulled a sheaf of papers from a briefcase. “Want me to do a formal reading of the will or would you rather scan it yourself?”
She held out her hand for the papers. The document in a blue folder was the will, she concluded after a glance. An envelope held a letter from Tex. Her fingers trembled as she took out the pages and stared at his familiar scrawl.
“Darling girl,” it began, as his letters always had, even when he’d been mad at her. Tears stung her eyes. She wouldn’t break down now, not in front of Jake. Swallowing hard, she lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not so sure I can do this right now, after all.”
He took the papers. “Let me.” Putting the letter aside, he started with the will, reading through a lot of legal jargon that held no surprises. There were bequests for Mrs. Gomez and other employees, a trust fund for Tess, and the legal guardianship arrangement putting Megan in charge of Tess’s future.
“Is that it?” she asked when Jake paused.
“Not quite. On this last part, though, I think the letter spells out his wishes better than all the legalese that’s in the will. Maybe you’ll understand his reasoning better. If it’s too painful, I can read it aloud for you.”
His words, his tone alerted her that what was to come wasn’t going to thrill her. Perhaps she could do a better job of concealing her reaction if she read the letter to herself, after all.
“I’ll read it,” she said, taking the letter from Jake’s outstretched hand.
It began with a plea for her understanding about Tess, an apology of sorts by Tex’s standards.
I know I’m leaving you with a burden that, by rights, isn’t yours to shoulder, but I’m counting on you, girl. Be a mother to that child. Lord knows, she hasn’t had much of one up till now.
Megan glanced at Jake. “Do you know anything about Tess’s mother?”
“Her name—Contessa Florence Olson.”
“Contessa?”
“A name, not a title, I assure you,” he said wryly. “She goes by Flo. From what Tex told me she was waiting tables at a restaurant in Laramie when he met her about nine, maybe ten years back. They saw each other from time to time over a year or so. A matter of convenience, I believe he called it.”
So, Megan thought, it had begun about the time she’d gone away to college. Tex had been lonelier than she’d realized and had turned to a stranger for companionship. Funny, Megan had never thought of Tex as being lonely. He’d seemed like the most self-contained man she’d ever known.
“He had no idea she was pregnant?” Megan asked.
Jake shook his head. “Not until Flo appeared one day about six months ago, said she was tired of the hassle, that it was his turn to take responsibility for the kid. Off she went without a backward glance. She hasn’t been heard from since. I’ve checked and there’s no sign of her in Laramie. No one there has heard from her.”
“Poor Tess,” Megan murmured, knowing precisely how she must have felt the night she’d been left behind. Pity wasn’t what Tess needed, though. She needed a home, and Megan wasn’t the least bit convinced she could provide one. Tex, however, hadn’t given her much of a choice. She returned her attention to the letter.
When I’m gone, give the child some time right here on the ranch to adjust. Don’t go dragging her off to New York. Thanks to the way her mama dumped her here and ran off, Tess’s world has been turned upside down too much as it is. You should remember what that was like, Megan. It’ll be a bond between you. Seems to me you’ll be good for each other. You both need family whether you realize it or not. It’s been sorely lacking in both your lives. I regret that more than I can say, but I did the best I could by both of you.
So far, Tex’s request wasn’t much of a shocker. It made sense to stick around for a couple of weeks to give Tess a little time to get her feet back on the ground again. With Todd and Micah to handle things in New York, Megan could juggle her responsibilities and make that work.
Then she recalled Tess’s earlier reaction to the idea of going to New York, and she realized with dismay that her grandfather hadn’t intended this to be a temporary adjustment at all. He wanted Megan back here permanently. Jake had pretty much laid that out for her, too, when he’d said if she didn’t follow her grandfather’s wishes, the ranch would be up for grabs, and that he was first in line to claim it.
A terrible sinking sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she read on.
Whatever it is you have to do to keep all those balls you’re juggling in the air can just as easily be done from here. That’s what faxes and computers were made for, leastways that’s what you’re always telling me. Put technology to good use. Make this one of those challenges you’re always talking about. You can make it work, Megan, if you want to badly enough.
Could she? Tex certainly had more faith in her than she had in herself, at least in this one area. Megan glanced back at the page and saw that there was more.
If you choose to go, if other arrangements need to be made for Tess, well, Jake knows what to do. You’ve made your own way. You don’t need anything I could leave you. I have to take care of the child, Meggie. I have to see to what’s best for her.
He’d phrased the letter in the form of a request, but it was evident from this final paragraph that it was a whole lot more than that. Megan was to stay on the ranch with Tess indefinitely, become the rancher he’d always wanted her to be—or lose everything. Her choice, or so he wanted it to seem.
“He expects me to stay here?” she demanded, staring at Jake for confirmation of her own interpretation of the letter.
“Yes.”
“Or?”
“The ranch will be sold—to me—and the money will be put in trust for Tess.”
“He can’t mean it,” she whispered, even though she knew that he had.
“He did.”
“But I can’t go on living here. I can’t just walk away from my career, everything that means anything to me.”
Jake shrugged. “You have a choice. Stay, or go and lose the ranch. Tess can stay on here with me.”
“That’s no choice. I don’t give a damn about the ranch. I never have.”
“Then walk away. You certainly don’t need his money or his land, right?”
“No,” Megan agreed. She didn’t need land or money, but she had always craved Tex’s approval, and she knew that even from the grave he’d withhold it if she didn’t at least try to do as he asked.
Besides, she thought, who else was there? Not Jake, no matter how calmly he had declared his willingness to step in. She wouldn’t have him doing what was by rights her duty. She—Lord help them both—was all Tess had, just as Tex had once been all Megan had had. She would manage just as Tex had. O’Rourkes always did what was expected of them. It had been her grandfather’s mantra.
“So, what’s it going to be, Meggie? Will you stay or go?”
“You’d just love it if I left, wouldn’t you? You’d stay here, do the noble thing, be a hero.”
“I’m not sure I’d be declared a hero, but your leaving would ease the way toward me getting this ranch.” He shot her a lazy grin. “But I can wait. Having you around again might be even more fascinating.”
That night was the longest of Megan’s life. She felt as alone and every bit as afraid as she had when her mother had abandoned her on Tex’s doorstep years before. The only thing that kept her from sinking into despair was knowing that, as bad as she felt, Tess probably felt worse—more frightened and even more alone.
Not that the child would show it. Tess had avoided her for most of the evening, and when Megan had offered to go upstairs with her and tuck her in, the girl had jeered, “I ain’t no baby,” and stalked off with shoulders squared proudly.
In the moments that followed, Megan had longed for someone she could confide in, but the only person who came to mind was Jake, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable and uncertain.
By the time it occurred to her that Peggy would have listened and probably offered sensible, down-to-earth advice, it was too late to call.
“Get a grip,” Megan muttered to herself when the illuminated dial on her bedside clock ticked on toward four o’clock.
She reminded herself that she ran an entire media conglomerate, that she had all sorts of resources at her disposal, that she was known worldwide for her creative solutions to all sorts of social dilemmas. Surely she could come up with something that fit the fix she was in.
By five she was up, dressed and in the kitchen searching for the coffee grinder. When she found nothing but a store brand of already ground, ordinary Colombian beans, she sighed heavily, put them into the automatic coffeemaker and waited to see what sort of pitiful brew emerged. She grimaced at the taste, but it was hot and loaded with caffeine, so it would do.
At five-thirty she reached for the phone and called her office. Todd picked up on the first ring.
“How’s it going back there?” she asked, suddenly unsure just how much she was ready to tell him about the upcoming upheaval in all their lives. No matter what her final decision, some things would inevitably change.
“We’re managing,” he assured her. “What about you?”
“Same here.”
“When will you be back?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” she began slowly.
“Megan, is there some sort of a problem?” he asked sympathetically. “I know losing Tex can’t be easy, despite the way you two argued all the time. We can cope around here for a couple of weeks if you need more time.”
She drew in a deep breath. “It may be a little longer than that.”
Todd fell silent. “How long?” he asked eventually.
“I’m not saying it’s going to happen. It’s certainly not what I want—”
“Spit it out, Megan. What’s the worst-case scenario?”
“Worst case? Unless I can find some other way to handle certain things, and believe me I am trying, I could be here permanently.”
“Permanently?” he echoed, as if the word were unfamiliar. “As in forever?”
“That’s the definition I’m most familiar with.”
“What the hell is going on out there?” Todd demanded. “Have you been taken captive or something?”
“The days of the Wild West are pretty much over,” Megan assured him, grinning despite herself.
“Then what?”
“It’s gotten complicated,” she said, settling for the same word she’d used with Tess.
Todd was no more satisfied with the response than Tess had been. “Complicated how? The estate and stuff?”
“You could say that.”
“Megan, why don’t you just spit it out?” he repeated with a rare touch of impatience. “I need to know what we’re up against here. Are you closing things down? Selling out?”
“Absolutely not!” It was more certainty than she’d displayed with Jake, but she realized she’d made her decision about that overnight.
“Then explain.”
“Tex’s legacy wasn’t exactly what I expected.”
“More money? Less? The ranch? What?”
“An eight-year-old daughter.”
That silenced her unflappable assistant.
“Todd?”
“I’m here. I’m just grappling with this. He left you a daughter?”
“That pretty much sums it up, except for the part where I have to stay here to raise her.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish to hell I were.”
“You with a kid,” he said with evident amazement. “It boggles the mind.”
“Doesn’t it just?” she agreed. “But that’s where I am. I’m still trying to figure out how to make all this work, so don’t go blabbing the news around and set off a panic, okay? My goal is to get back to New York, but that could take time and some legal tap dancing, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” he assured her. “Uh, Megan, just what are some of the options you’re considering? Commuting, maybe?”
“It’s on the list,” she agreed, though even she had to concede that as a practical matter it was seriously lacking. She wasn’t sure Todd was ready to hear another option she’d been toying with all night long. Envisioning Todd and the others—savvy, sophisticated New Yorkers one and all—trying to adapt to life in Wyoming had given her one of the only good laughs she’d had overnight. Last resort, she’d finally conceded. That was definitely her last resort.
“Commuting could work,” Todd said, as if eager to convince her. “There are faxes and e-mail. And just imagine all those frequent-flyer miles. Plus you’d be halfway to the West Coast, so trips to L.A. would be a breeze, too. Just say the word and I’ll start writing up a plan.”
“Not just yet. I still have some thinking to do. In the meantime, I’ll pick up a fax machine and a computer for Tex’s office here. I’ll call as soon as I can get everything set up. Now tell me what’s happening there. Everything on schedule?”
“Running like clockwork,” he assured her. “I shifted the taping schedule on the show till next week. If you can’t make that, we’ll adjust, despite Micah’s dire predictions that it’ll be a disaster. There are enough shows pretaped to hold us for a while. The lead story for the magazine’s been laid out. I can fax you the pages as soon as you say the word.”
“Terrific. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Micah I’ll check in with her before the end of the day, too.”
“Right.” He hesitated. “By the way, Megan, don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s practically the middle of the night there. Now that I know your brain does actually function in the morning,” he taunted, “I might start scheduling those a.m. meetings for eight.”
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, but she was chuckling as she hung up.
“Everything okay at your office, niña?” Mrs. Gomez asked from behind her.
Megan turned. “I didn’t hear you come in. I hope I didn’t wake you with all my commotion in here. I really appreciate you staying over till things settle down.”
“This is not a problem. I can stay as long as you like. My sister will take care of things at my house. As for waking me, we’re early risers here. You know that. Tess will be down any minute wanting breakfast.”
“And then what?” Megan asked, at a loss about what sort of routine the child had.
The housekeeper regarded her quizzically. “I don’t understand what you are asking.”
“Does she go to school?”
“Well, of course she does, though I thought it best that she not go this week because of Tex. She will return on Monday and things will settle back to normal.”
Megan wanted to scream that things would never be entirely normal again. She wanted to ask what could possibly be normal about Tex’s empty office or his empty place at the table. She wanted to ask what was normal about becoming an overnight mother to a child she hadn’t even known existed a few days ago.
“You will see, niña,” Mrs. Gomez consoled, as if she had read Megan’s mind.
Before Megan could argue, Tess wandered into the kitchen, gave Megan a distrustful look and sat down at the far end of the big oak table.
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” she said.
“Did you really?”
“I know what a busy life you have in New York,” she mocked. “You told me so yourself. Go, if you want. We don’t need you here.”
“Tess,” Mrs. Gomez scolded, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Be polite.”
Tess retreated into scowling silence. Megan didn’t have the strength or the ingenuity just then to try to coax her out of it. Besides, Tess’s distrust was justified. Megan hadn’t done much to prove she intended to stick it out in Wyoming. How could she when she didn’t know herself what decision she would finally reach? Maybe her actions today would help give them both some breathing room, though.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Megan said, pushing her chair back, “I have to go into town for a few things today. I’m going into Tex’s office to make a list.”
“A trip into town will do you good,” Mrs. Gomez agreed a little too enthusiastically. Then she added slyly, “Why not take Tess along?”
“No way,” Tess blurted, just as Megan was about to protest as well.
Mrs. Gomez went on as if their reactions had been more positive. “Tess can show you where things are. There are new stores since the last time you were here.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Megan conceded grudgingly. “Tess, would you like to come along?”
“Not really,” the girl grumbled, but at a sharp glance from the housekeeper, she shrugged. “Might as well. I ain’t got nothing else to do.”
“Working on your grammar might be one alternative,” Megan muttered, but she forced a smile. “Terrific. We’ll leave in an hour.”
But in an hour, there was no sign of Tess. If it had been up to Megan, she would have left without her, but Mrs. Gomez seemed to be determined to send the two of them off on some sort of bonding experience.
“She will be in the barn,” she told Megan. “There are kittens there. They seem to give her some comfort.”
Thinking of Tess turning to a litter of helpless kittens for consolation shamed Megan sufficiently that she walked to the barn in search of the girl. Sure enough, she was hunkered down with kittens scrambling all around her.
“They’re cute,” Megan said, drawn to them despite herself.
“I’m not giving them away,” Tess stated defiantly.
“Did I ask you to?”
“No, but you will.”
Megan imagined that was what Tex had insisted on. He’d always allowed a single cat to wander the barn in search of mice, but no more, and never one in the house as a pet. She had longed for one of her own, a warm ball of fluff who would curl up in her lap and sleep on her bed, but she had dared to ask only once. Tex’s curt refusal had kept her silent about wanting a pet from then on.
“You could bring them up to the house, if you like,” Megan suggested casually. “When they’re a little bigger and the mother won’t mind.”
Tess stared at her with wide eyes. “I could?”
The longing in her voice brought a lump to Megan’s throat. She nodded. “I don’t see why not.”
“Jake thought it might be okay, too, but I figured you’d never go for it.”
“I will on one condition,” Megan said.
Tess frowned. “I knew it! I knew there’d be a catch.”
“No catch, just a condition. I want one of the kittens for my own.”
Tess simply stared, clearly too shocked for words.
“Is it a deal?” Megan asked.
“Yeah!” Tess said excitedly, then caught herself. “I mean, I suppose that would be okay.”
Megan held back a grin. It wasn’t much, she concluded as they walked to the car, but it was a start. If only the next ten years or so would go as easily, maybe they would survive them.
6
Jake was at loose ends. With his biggest—okay, his only—client dead and buried, his workload was back to zip. That was exactly the way he wanted it, or so he’d thought. Rather than relaxing, maybe going off on a long horseback ride through the countryside, however, he was restless. He knew exactly where to lay the blame for that: Megan.
He’d pushed aside a lot of old resentments the past few days. He wanted to go on hating her for thinking the worst of him all those years ago. He wanted to steal Tex’s ranch right out from under her just to get even. But for some reason, he couldn’t work up much enthusiasm for the all-out war he’d once envisioned. It was probably because of that sad, lost look in her eyes. He’d always been a real sucker for vulnerability, especially in a woman normally as tough as Meggie.
The smart thing would be to steer clear of her. Even if she made a halfhearted attempt to comply with Tex’s wishes, it wouldn’t be long before she found some way around the terms of the will and hauled Tess back to New York with her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that was what she desperately wanted to do. He’d seen the wheels clicking away the instant she’d realized what Tex’s will meant.
Somehow Megan had turned into a city girl. Maybe she’d always been one, though how that had happened living in the middle of nowhere with Tex was beyond him.
As for Jake, his foray into the urban thing had been pure rebellion. He’d had something to prove to himself and to Tex and to all the judgmental people of Whispering Wind.
He’d been damned good at it for a time, but in the end he’d accepted the fact that he was happier right here in Whispering Wind. The pace was slow, the demands and expectations were few. And he had enough money now to enjoy the spectacular scenery at his leisure without anyone being able to label him that “no-account Landers kid.”
He glanced around his office, took stock of the fancy artwork on the walls, the bronze of a bucking bronco on his credenza, the thick carpeting and well-cushioned leather sofa and chairs, the wall of bookcases filled with leather-bound legal volumes, the state-of-the-art computer setup.
Unlike his home, which could best be described as a fixer-upper, he’d taken pleasure in designing his office to impress. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to hire a secretary or to solicit new clients. As restless as he felt this morning, he regretted that. Maybe if he’d had a few cases to sink his teeth into, Meggie’s image wouldn’t be popping into his head with such annoying regularity.
He heard a commotion on the street, then a howl of protest. He was on his feet and dashing for the door before it registered that that howl was distressingly familiar.
He found Tess outside, her expression indignant, the fist of the red-faced sheriff, Bryce Davis, clamped tightly over her shoulder. Lyle Perkins was standing in the doorway of his mama’s general store with a smug expression on his face.
Jake had been exactly where Tess was a few times himself, though Lyle had been a boy back then, but no less of a bully. Apparently he hadn’t outgrown the tendency. Jake’s hackles rose as he strode toward the group. He couldn’t wait to tangle with Lyle and Emma Perkins now that he was on equal footing with them in the community.
The instant Tess caught sight of Jake, she broke free and ran straight for him, then turned and shot a defiant look at the sheriff that would have withered a less confident man. She didn’t look at Lyle at all. Fortunately, Jake supposed, Bryce Davis wasn’t lacking in ego. Jake had tangled with the sheriff a time or two himself. It would take more than a fiery eight-year-old to intimidate Davis.
“Okay, what’s the problem here?” Jake asked, directing the question at the beefy sheriff, while ignoring Lyle.
“I need a lawyer,” Tess announced before Bryce could open his mouth. She slapped a quarter in Jake’s hand. “Here’s your retainer. It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got. I want to sue him for false arrest, police brutality and whatever else you can come up with.” She jerked a thumb toward Lyle. “Sue him while you’re at it.”
Jake hid a grin at her riled-up declaration. “You’ve been watching too much TV, kiddo. I don’t think you’re under arrest yet.”
Tess trembled with indignation. “Oh, yeah, try telling that to him. He was about to slap handcuffs on me and take me to the slammer.”
Jake figured there was another side to the story that he’d better hear before he leaped too trustingly to Tess’s defense. “Bryce?”
The sheriff didn’t mince words. “Aunt Emma caught her shoplifting. Lyle called me to get over here. He tried to hold her till I arrived, but she made a break for it. I nabbed her out here.”
Jake turned to Tess. “Is that so?”
Tess’s gaze met his and never flinched. “I didn’t take anything from the old bat’s store. All she’s got is a bunch of junk, anyway.” Once again she cast a disparaging look toward Lyle. “He probably put her up to it. He’s mean as a snake and everybody in town knows it.”
“Why, you little punk,” Lyle began, taking a step in Tess’s direction. He backed off at a sharp look from his cousin.
Since Jake had had his own run-ins with the paranoid shopkeeper and her spoiled son, he would have been inclined to believe Tess, even if she hadn’t just hired him to be on her side. Lyle had always been eager to make trouble for anyone weaker than he was. In those days, Jake’s only weakness had been his lack of anyone to stand by him. He’d settled more than one argument with Lyle with his fists. Fortunately, he had grown out of the habit.
“What’d she steal?” Jake asked the sheriff.
Bryce rocked back on his heels and looked vaguely uneasy. “That part’s a little hazy, what with the commotion of catching up to Tess before she got away.”
“Then I suggest we all go inside and get our facts straight,” Jake said, starting for the general store, where Mrs. Perkins waited in the doorway just behind her son, hands on ample hips.
“I might have known you’d take the girl’s side,” she said, scowling at Jake with a sour expression before turning an equally sour look on Bryce Davis. “I expected more of you, Sheriff, especially since you’re family.”
“Nobody’s taking sides, Aunt Emma,” Bryce said soothingly. “We just need to figure out what happened here. What did you see?”
“She was right over there,” Mrs. Perkins said, gesturing toward a case filled with school supplies. “I looked up and saw her hand go in her pocket. When it came out again, it was empty. She stole some of them pens, or maybe the stickers the kids like so much.”
“Did you see her with either pens or stickers in her hand?” Jake asked.
Bryce scowled at him. “I’ll ask the questions, son.”
Jake shrugged. “Be my guest, but I reserve the right to ask a few of my own if you don’t get at the truth in a hurry.”
“Well, Aunt Emma, did you see the girl with those items, or anything else, for that matter?”
“No, but I know what kind of mischief her kind gets into.”
The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood up at the characterization, but he forced himself to deal with one thing at a time. Most important was clearing up whether or not Tess had shoplifted so much as a paper clip from the old bat.
“Tess, honey, did you ever pick up any of the things Mrs. Perkins mentioned?”
“Do I look like I play with stickers?” she shot back, giving the storekeeper a belligerent glare. “As for pens, Tex practically bought them by the case because he was always chomping off the end, once the doc told him he had to stop smoking cigars. I sure as heck don’t need hers.”
Jake hid a grin. “That’s not the issue,” he admonished. “Did you put anything into your pockets?”
“No. If you want to, you can check.” She shot a triumphant look at the shopkeeper, but when the sheriff stepped forward, she scowled. “Not you. Jake.”
“That okay with you, Bryce?”
“I suppose,” he said with obvious reluctance.
Jake emptied Tess’s pockets, turning them inside out for the sheriff’s benefit. He came up with a candy bar wrapper, a couple of pennies, some lint and a wilting daisy, which he suspected came from Tex’s funeral bouquet.
“Satisfied?” Tess demanded, eyeing them all belligerently.
“My apologies,” Bryce said, then looked toward Jake. “I had no choice. You know that, don’t you?”
“Can I sue him now?” Tess asked. “Her, too?”
“We’ll talk about it,” Jake said. When Tess appeared ready to balk, he added, “Over ice cream.”
She followed him docilely enough after that. When they were back on the sidewalk outside, he paused. “How’d you get into town, anyway? And why would you go into that store when you know how Mrs. Perkins is? She thinks every kid in town is out to rob her blind.”
“I came in with Megan. As for the other…” Tess shrugged. “I guess I just like to see her get herself all worked up watching me every second. That Lyle, though, he gives me the creeps.”
“Then I suggest you steer clear of the place. Now, where’s Megan?”
“Beats me. I pointed her in the direction of the new office-supply place, then took off. She didn’t seem real disappointed to see me go.”
“Did you arrange to meet her someplace?”
Tess shrugged. “I figured we’d both turn up at the car sooner or later.”
Jake sighed. Clearly Tess intended to make him work for his answers. She was volunteering nothing. “Where’d she park?” he asked next.
“A couple of blocks that way,” Tess conceded, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
“Let’s go see if she’s there.”
“I thought we were going for ice cream.”
“We will, after we find Megan and let her know you’re okay.”
“Like she’d care,” Tess muttered.
Obviously things weren’t going smoothly with the bonding. “Don’t you think maybe you should give her a break?” he asked.
“Why? She doesn’t give a rat’s behind about me.”
“Maybe because she hasn’t had a chance to get to know you, any more than you’ve taken the time to get to know her.”
“What’s the use? She’ll leave.”
To his very deep regret, Jake’s heart thudded at that. “Has she said that?”
“No, but she will. Everybody does.”
Jake gave up trying to argue the point. All the evidence in her young life was on her side. It would take time to prove that Meggie was different, that she had staying power. For Tess’s sake, he prayed to God he was right about that. She was already jaded enough without another disappointment.
“Any idea what she was getting at the office-supply place?” he asked.
Tess shot him a disgusted look. “Duh! Office supplies would be my guess.”
“You know, kid, one of these days somebody’s going to take exception to that smart mouth of yours.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Lyle Perkins for one. You did your darnedest to rile him back there.”
She grinned. “I know,” she said proudly. “Who else?”
“Me.”
“And then what?” she asked, clearly unintimidated. “You gonna lock me in my room?”
“No. I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, the way my mama used to do with me.”
Tess’s eyes widened. “She did that? Oh, gross.”
“Gross pretty much sums it up, but it was effective. I cleaned up my language. Think about it.”
Jake fell silent, as did Tess, though whether she was actually pondering his warning was anybody’s guess. She trailed along a step or two behind him, scuffing the toes of her sneakers on the sidewalk.
He spotted Megan up ahead, looking predictably more impatient than worried.
“There you are,” she said, when she noticed Tess behind him. “Where on earth have you been? I’ve been waiting here for a half hour at least.”
Tess shot an imploring look his way. Jake relented and left the encounter with the sheriff and Mrs. Perkins unmentioned. “Visiting with me,” he said. “We were going for ice cream and came to ask you to join us.”
“I was hoping to get back to the ranch so I could get all this equipment set up. I have work to do.”
Jake peered into the back of the sport utility vehicle. There were a half-dozen cartons, along with bags that appeared filled with reams of paper and other supplies. He took heart from the sheer amount and extravagance of the purchases.
“Was this stuff cheaper here than it would be in New York?” he inquired lazily.
“Of course, but that wasn’t the point.”
“What was?”
“I need a few things if I’m going to be able to get anything done while I’m here.”
He took a better look at the cartons. “A fax machine, a copier, a computer, a printer, a scanner. Yep, that ought to get you through the afternoon, all right.”
“I’m delighted you approve. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.”
“I mind,” Tess protested. “Jake promised me ice cream, after what happened.”
Only when the words were out of her mouth did she realize her mistake. She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away a step.
“After what happened?” Megan asked. When Tess remained stubbornly silent, she turned to Jake. “Well?”
“Sorry. Attorney-client privilege.”
“She hired you to represent her? Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Now, Meggie, you know I can’t answer that.”
“Somebody had better answer me,” Megan declared, foot tapping and arms folded across her chest.
Amused by the display of temper, Jake glanced toward Tess. “I don’t think she’s crazy about being left out of the loop. How about we all go for ice cream and explain once she’s mellowed out on hot fudge?”
“You’re going to tell her no matter what, aren’t you?” Tess demanded. “Geez-oh-flip, nobody around here’s any good at all at keeping secrets. What about professional ethics?”
“I can only tell her if you say it’s okay,” Jake agreed. “It’s up to you.”
“But that’s the only way I’m getting ice cream, right?”
He nodded.
“Okay, fine. Blab your heart out.” She turned and marched off.
Jake turned to follow. Megan regarded him impatiently, but eventually fell into step beside him.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” she asked with weary resignation.
“On a scale of one to ten, compared to some of the other things you’ve heard in the past few days, this can’t be more than a two.”
“I’m so relieved.”
“Don’t worry, Meggie, I’ve handled it. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Why does that make me even more nervous?”
“Because you have control issues?” he suggested.
“Oh, go to hell,” she retorted, and snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t say another word to him until after the awestruck waitress had begged for an autograph, chattered endlessly about Megan’s TV show and then—finally—taken their orders. Sundaes with double hot fudge prevailed.
“Well?” Megan asked, turning her attention back to them. “You might as well get it over with. What happened earlier?”
After a glance at Tess, Jake gave her a quick overview of the encounter with Mrs. Perkins, Lyle and the sheriff.
“Why, that pompous old witch,” Megan declared, with every bit as much indignation as Tess had displayed earlier. “I’ll have a thing or two to say to her when we’re finished here. As for Lyle, I never liked him and it seems as if time hasn’t improved his judgment or his temper.”
Tess regarded her with wide-eyed amazement. “You’re going to take on Mrs. Perkins?”
“Well, of course I will,” Megan said emphatically. “Nobody messes with an O’Rourke.”
Jake settled back onto the bench beside her. “Go, girl,” he murmured, delighted by her reaction, by the quick rush to Tess’s defense.
There’d been a time when she’d been equally protective of him, when she’d stood defiantly beside him in the face of all sorts of accusations, a good many of them trumped up by the envious Lyle.
But when the most serious charge of all had been made, when he’d been accused of rustling Tex’s cattle, she’d failed him. He’d guessed that years of silent doubts had added up at last. Even with him understanding that, the pain of her turning on him had been worse than sitting in a jail cell in which he didn’t belong.
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Sherryl Woods
ALIVE, TEX O'ROURKE WAS A SNEAKY OLD COOT. NOW THAT HE'S DEAD, HE'S EVEN WORSE.Megan O'Rourke's beloved grandfather had always been determined to lure her out of New York and back to the ranch in Whispering Wind, Wyoming, where he had raised her. And when Megan returns for Tex's funeral, she realizes his will is going to make it impossible for her to refuse. Her "inheritance" is Tex's daughter, Tess, an eight-year-old bundle of trouble Megan had never even known existed. Jake Landers has also come home to Whispering Wind.After leaving town years before under a cloud of suspicion, he's returned to put down roots. And when he comes face-to-face with the woman who shared his troubled past, he hardly recognizes Megan. She's become a driven, stressed-out powerhouse who runs a successful entertainment empire, but who's forgotten what's really important.He knows Megan is going to have to make some big decisions–about life and love, about where home really is. And he's only too happy to help. Because he's letting go of old grudges and beginning to recall some old dreams. And the best one begins with Megan.
“According to Tex’s will, you are officially Tess’s legal guardian.”
“No,” Megan whispered, stunned not only by the concept, but by the weight of the responsibility. She tried to imagine taking a kid back to New York with her, fitting her into a life already stretched to the limits. Her imagination, always vivid, failed miserably. “There has to be another way. Mrs. Gomez….”
“Not quite,” Jake said. “You can’t just dump Tess with Mrs. Gomez and take off.”
“Why the hell can’t I?” she all but shouted as panic flooded through her.
“Because Tex has spelled it all out in his will.”
His intimate familiarity with the details of Tex’s wishes stirred suspicion. “How do you know so much about Tex’s will?” Megan asked, her gaze narrowed.
“Because I’m the one who drew it up. Believe me, it’s airtight.”
Megan wondered just how many shocks her heart could take. “You’re a lawyer?”
“A damned good one, if I do say so myself. You renege on the terms that Tex has spelled out and the ranch is up for grabs.” Jake’s expression turned triumphant. “In other words, it’ll be all but mine, Megan, and there won’t be a damned thing you can do to stop it.”
Sherryl Woods
After Tex
For my father
As strong-willed as Tex and every bit as great an
influence on my life. I’ll miss your wit,
your generosity, your tomatoes
and our Beanie quests.
October 23, 1917—August 28, 1998
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
1
Megan O’Rourke swept through the elegant marble and glass lobby of the prestigious Manhattan skyscraper, acknowledging a half-dozen greetings that followed in her wake.
“Hey, Megan.”
“Good morning, Miss O’Rourke.”
“Miss O’Rourke.”
“Hi ya, sweetheart.”
This last from the newspaper vendor, who also handed over a copy of the latest issue of her competitor’s glossy life-style magazine.
“Nothing you haven’t covered and done better,” he assured her with a wink.
“Thanks, Billy. I hope the day never comes when you tell me she’s beat me on something.”
“Won’t happen,” he said with confidence. “That staff of yours doesn’t miss a trick.”
Megan knew that because her staff was every bit as eager and ambitious as she was, every bit as tenacious and determined to take Megan’s World to the top, right along with the weekly TV show that had launched just weeks ago. The people she’d hired were young and savvy, quick to spot trends, sometimes just as quick to start them, she acknowledged as she got onto the elevator.
Not until the doors had whooshed closed did she pinch herself, a daily ritual that had started with her meteoric rise in publishing. She still couldn’t believe she was right on the brink of becoming a phenomenon as successful and renowned as Martha Stewart, dabbling in a whole slew of media pies, from magazines to books to television, her finger on the pulse of American culture.
Pretty impressive for a small-town girl from Wyoming who’d grown up on a ranch with a grandfather who was about as sophisticated as flannel—shirts, not designer sheets. Tex O’Rourke wasn’t into trends or styles or much of anything except land and cattle and making money. If Megan ever saw another cow again it would be way too soon.
Still, as Tex liked to remind her, she owed a lot to those cows she hated so much. They’d enabled her to go off to New York at twenty-one with money in her pocket. She’d been able to rent an apartment where she didn’t have to fear for her life every time she walked out the door.
After she’d served a suitable apprenticeship on three other magazines, starting in the lowliest of capacities, those blasted cows had allowed her to buy a faltering bimonthly publication, rename it and, in two short years, turn it into must-have reading from New York to Los Angeles. Even the people who set the trends read it, just in case she’d gotten the jump on them. Her readership demographics were an advertiser’s dream. These were the people who spent money—a lot of it—to stay one step ahead of the Joneses.
But if Tex’s money had given her a boot up, she knew it was her own drive and dedication and vision that had accomplished the impossible. Megan’s World was on financially stable ground now all on its own. Her first book—a hefty tome on entertaining—had been a bestseller. The second—on turning flea market bargains into treasured heirlooms—was flying off shelves at an even faster pace.
Six months ago she had started a local cable TV show in Manhattan, used that to assemble sample tapes, and just weeks ago had taken the program into national syndication. She was the media world’s latest hot property. Her demanding schedule was packed with talk show appearances and newspaper interviews. Ironically, that ability to crowd every hour with work was another lesson learned from the inexhaustible Tex, even if he didn’t approve of the way in which she’d put it to use.
Life was good. Life was very, very good. Alone in the elevator, she pinched herself again just to make sure it was real and not one of those summertime daydreams she used to have on the rare occasions when Tex had allowed her to laze around down by the creek during breaks from school.
When the elevator opened on the thirty-second floor, Megan stepped off into chaos. The rapid expansion of her media interests had jammed the offices, but no one had the time to steal away to look at new space. Her Realtor was at her wit’s end.
“Jasmine called again,” her executive assistant said, as if to reiterate that fact as he trailed her into her office. “The penthouse floor over on Madison is going today unless you get your tail over there to put in a higher bid.”
“Can I fit it in?”
“No.”
“Can you?”
“No, not unless you clone me.”
Megan stared, intrigued by the idea. “Can I do that?”
“They did it on Guiding Light, but as a practical matter, I’d say no,” Todd Winston said.
Todd—with his all-American face and biceps to die for—had been an aspiring actor until Megan had gotten her hooks into him when he’d taken a temp job between acting roles. She’d turned him into an executive assistant, the ultimate Yuppie with his neatly trimmed brown hair, oxford cloth, button-down shirts and trendy glasses that couldn’t hide mysterious eyes the gray-green color of sage. She had a hunch he’d taken the job as an acting assignment and chosen his wardrobe—and the glasses—accordingly. She knew for a fact he could see better than she could, and her vision was twenty-twenty.
He still taped at least three daytime dramas at home every weekday and fast-forwarded through them in some sort of bizarre soap ritual every weekend. He claimed the women in his life loved it, and if it satisfied some deep-seated need in him and kept him working for her, Megan wasn’t about to complain. Nor was she going to voice any disapproval of his tendency to discuss the story lines as if talking about old and dear friends. She had offered sympathy on more than one occasion only to discover that the death in question had been scripted and filmed in a studio on the west side of Manhattan.
“What do I tell Jasmine?” Todd asked.
“To start looking for alternative space. Then find a hole in my schedule and pencil her in sometime before the millennium.”
“I’ll write it in pen,” he countered. “Otherwise, you’ll just erase it and write in something else. I will not listen to another one of that woman’s perfectly justifiable tirades. You hired her to find new space so we wouldn’t all be crawling over top of each other. The least you can do is look at what she finds.”
Megan grinned at his testiness. “I thought you enjoyed crawling all over the staff, especially Micah.”
Micah Richards was a bright, ambitious producer who was responsible for whipping Megan’s TV production into shape in record time. With her close-cropped black hair, angular features and long legs, she was stunningly beautiful in an unconventional way. Mere mention of her was enough to bring color to Todd’s cheeks.
“Micah’s the kind of woman who’ll slap me with a harrassment suit if I sneeze in her general direction,” he protested. “I do not crawl anywhere near her.”
“But you want to, don’t you?”
Todd gave her a jaundiced look. “My private yearnings are none of your concern.”
“Sure they are. It makes up for having absolutely none of my own.”
“I thought you had a date last night.”
“It was a business meeting,” she countered emphatically. “No yearning involved.”
“How many so-called business meetings does that make with Peter? Your finances must be very complicated if you need to see your accountant that often.”
That was the trouble with an efficient assistant. He knew her habits all too well. “Do I pay you to keep tabs on my social life?”
“You pay me to keep tabs on everything.”
True enough, she acknowledged, but only to herself. “Okay, then, tell me what’s on the agenda for today.”
Todd ticked off a daunting schedule that was already running late, thanks to his penchant for scheduling nine o’clock meetings when he knew perfectly well Megan refused to be civil to anyone before ten. Too many years of ranch living and rising at dawn had made her rebellious. Fortunately, most of those nine o’clock meetings were with staffers who knew her habits. They worked steadily until she called for them, she crammed an hour’s worth of talk into fifteen minutes and Todd got to enjoy his little game. It was a small price to pay for his otherwise incredible efficiency.
Her first meeting was with her food editor, who wanted to do a feature on edible flowers. She littered Megan’s desk with bright nasturtiums and encouraged her to sample them to prove her point. Megan eyed the perky little flowers with distaste and agreed to take the woman’s word for it.
That was followed by a quick session with a freelance photographer hoping to do an architectural photo shoot on the new waterfront home of a man who’d made megabucks in the computer industry. Megan had to tell him they’d been there and done that—months ago, in fact.
She had lunch with her editor to talk about the next book, followed by nonstop meetings to cover every facet of the magazine, as well as the topics for the next four tapings of the TV show.
“Are you satisfied with these?” Megan asked Micah, who was pacing around the room with an edginess that was typical of the woman’s nervous energy.
“All but that last one,” she said. “To be honest, I’m not sure anyone gives a fig about figs.”
“Isn’t it our job to show them the possibilities?”
Micah nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that, but consider this. The people watching this show have to go to their neighborhood market later to get the ingredients. Just how many varieties of figs do you think the stores in Middle America will carry?”
“In other words, we’ll excite them, then frustrate them,” Megan said thoughtfully.
“Exactly. It’s all well and good to suggest new, trendy foods, but if we do, we’d better be sure there’s a mail-order link or something for the hard-to-find ingredients. See what I mean?”
Megan nodded. “Mail order, huh? Maybe a catalog?” She beamed. “I love it. Put somebody on developing it. Let’s not just offer exotic gourmet foods, but a sampling of everything we talk about on the show. Anything else?”
“Nope. I’ll take care of this and get back to you.”
“Thanks, Micah.” Megan regarded her hopefully. “I don’t suppose we could get the first catalog out in time for Christmas.”
“Not without having the entire staff crash and burn. Maybe next Christmas, if we want to do it right.”
“Okay, I’ll settle for summer,” Megan compromised.
“Done,” Micah said, then grinned. “I would have gone for spring.”
It was a game they often played, tempering their natural tendencies toward eagerness and excitement with reality checks.
“See you tomorrow,” Micah said. “I’ll find something to sub for the figs.”
After her meeting with the producer, Megan retreated to a test kitchen to sample the recipes slated for nine months from now, in the July issue’s feature on backyard entertaining. She prided herself on the fact that Megan’s World had never once mentioned the word hamburger in connection with such an informal social event.
She thought of her grandfather and smiled. Tex referred to her suggested alternatives as “sissy food” and refused to allow his housekeeper to put any of it on his table. Megan knew, because on her last whirlwind visit home she’d asked Mrs. Gomez if she’d ever tried any of the recipes.
“Only at my own home, niña. Your grandpapa wants only meat and potatoes, nothing so fancy as what you write about.”
“Does he even look at the magazine?” Megan had inquired, unable to hide the wistful note in her voice. For all of her claims to independence, she still craved Tex’s approval, which he gave out with stingy rarity.
“Of course he looks. He even got cable last month so the picture of you on TV would be clearer. He is very proud of you.” The older woman had shrugged. “That does not mean he understands the choices you have made or the food you write about, Sí?”
“Yes,” Megan had agreed with a sigh.
Megan was a mystery to her grandfather, just as Tex was an enigma to her. He had taken her in when she was barely nine and abandoned by a mother who no longer wanted any part of raising a difficult child. That was the last time Megan had seen Sarah O’Rourke. She had never seen her father, at least not that she could recall, and no one mentioned him. She didn’t even know his name. Given Tex’s tight-lipped reaction to her hesitant inquiries, there was some question whether her mother did, either.
Tex had been mother and father to her from that moment on. He’d done the best he could, but he was not an especially warm man. He believed in plain truths and harsh realities with no sugarcoating. He’d given her a roof over her head, food and clothes, but he thought toys and dolls were foolishness, television a waste of time and books on anything other than ranching only marginally better.
Megan had never doubted, though, that he loved her. And when the time had come to let her go, he’d railed about it, but he’d given her the wherewithal to make her dreams come true and the knowledge that home would be waiting for her if she failed.
That Megan had succeeded beyond her wildest expectations and his was still baffling to him. Not a conversation passed without him asking when she was going to “give up that damn fool nonsense” and come back where she belonged. She’d put off another visit for just that reason, because the pressure to come home—both overt and subtle—would be relentless. Seeing the hurt and disappointment in his eyes when she refused took some of the joy out of her accomplishments. Better, she’d concluded, to stay away.
Tex thought she should be satisfied that she’d proved what she could do in a competitive world. He simply couldn’t understand that every single TV show, every single issue of the magazine was a new and exciting challenge. His attitude was proof that his early support had been an indulgence, not a genuine exhibition of faith in her abilities. He still dreamed of turning her into a rancher.
That lack of understanding and his refusal to set foot in New York grated on her and made every conversation with her grandfather a minefield. Their last one had ended with an explosion that had shaken her. She’d been avoiding his calls for the past week, letting Todd and her answering machine deal with Tex because she simply couldn’t, not without adding to the mountain of guilt already weighing her down.
She was tapping her pencil against her desk, still lost in thought, when Christie Gates burst into her office carrying an I Love Lucy lunchbox and a Howdy Doody puppet. Christie was Todd’s assistant and an aspiring writer who spent every lunch hour searching for some story angle she could sell to Megan. Most of the ideas had been outlandish and way off the mark, but this one had potential. Megan could feel it.
“Are these not the greatest?” Christie said enthusiastically, setting the two pieces of memorabilia on Megan’s desk with surprising reverence for someone who hadn’t even been born when either classic show was originally on the air.
Megan examined them closely. “Definitely originals,” she concluded.
“Would I bring back anything else?” Christie demanded indignantly. “I know a reproduction when I see one.”
“What do you propose we do with them?”
“I was thinking of a feature on using decorative accents like this to rediscover the child within. Talk about a whimsical touch. I mean, how could you not smile every time you walk into a room with Howdy Doody or Lucy staring you in the face? I’ve even heard that people are collecting those really old sand pails to remind them of when they were kids at the beach.”
She paused and watched Megan closely. “So, what do you think?” she finally prodded.
Megan considered the idea thoughtfully, deliberately taking her time, then grinned at Christie’s bouncing impatience. “I think it’s terrific. Congratulations! You have your first story assignment.”
“Oh, wow! You mean it?”
“I mean it. At a fee above and beyond your salary, of course. Have Todd draw up the contract and make sure accounting reimburses you for whatever you have to buy for the photo shoot.”
“Like a real freelance deal?” Christie asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Christie rushed around the desk, embraced her, then backed away self-consciously. “Sorry, Miss O’Rourke.”
Megan grinned. “No apology necessary. And I think from now on you should call me Megan.”
The girl’s eyes brightened. “Really? Oh, wow.”
Megan might have been amused by the unabashed excitement if it weren’t for the fact that not very long ago she had reacted in exactly the same way to every triumph—minor and major. Still did, if the truth be known, but she tried to confine it to the privacy of her office.
“One last thing,” Megan added, “you might ask around, see if any decorators know of a home doing anything like this. Todd can give you a list of people to call.”
Christie bounded toward the door to share her news, but Megan stopped her. “Hey, Christie, when the story’s done and all the photos have been shot, I’d like you to bring Howdy Doody back to me, okay?”
“You want the puppet?”
“Sure. I need to remember being a kid, the same as everybody else,” she said. The pitiful truth was, though, she couldn’t really remember ever being a kid at all.
Slowly the outer offices fell silent. Megan worked on her column for the next issue of the magazine, not coming up for air until darkness had fallen outside and the sky was lit with the twinkling lights of endless rows of skyscrapers. It was her favorite time of day in New York, when the streets were emptying of traffic, the impatient blare of horns was dying and the view from her office turned into a picture postcard. Daytime might offer a glimpse of Central Park in all its orange-and-red autumnal glory, but this was the view that had been on the one postcard she’d ever gotten after her mother abandoned her.
Some days Megan wondered if New York’s pull had been professional or personal. Had she subconsciously come here hoping to spot Sarah O’Rourke on a street corner? It was a question she rarely asked herself and had never adequately answered, just as she never examined too closely how a woman whose own background was so dysfunctional was qualified to promote life-style choices for others.
To her surprise, given the hour, one of the phone lines lit up and she heard Todd answering. She was even more surprised when he stepped through the door rather than buzzing her. The sympathetic expression on his face set her pulse to pounding.
“What is it?”
“It’s Mrs. Gomez.”
No doubt the housekeeper had been persuaded to play intermediary for her grandfather. “I can’t talk to Tex tonight. Please just tell her that for me.”
Todd stayed right where he was. “You need to take the call, Megan.”
If she hadn’t already had this gut-deep feeling of dread building inside, his somber tone would have set it off. With reluctance, she reached for the phone.
“Mrs. Gomez,” she said.
“Ah, niña,” the woman murmured, her voice suspiciously scratchy, as if she’d recently been crying. “I am so sorry to be calling like this. It is your grandfather.”
The pounding pulse slowed to a dull thud. “Is Tex okay? Has something happened to him?”
“There is no easy way to say this. He is gone, niña. Your grandfather passed away a few moments ago.”
The words echoed, nonsensical, impossible.
“No,” Megan protested in a whisper.
“I am so sorry, niña.”
“No,” Megan said again as tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. “Not Tex.” He was big and blustery and strong. Indomitable. Immortal.
“I am so very sorry,” Mrs. Gomez repeated. “It was very fast. There was no time to call you. His heart, the doctor said. There had been signs, but your grandfather ignored them. Like always, he thought he knew best.”
“I’ll be there on the first flight,” Megan told her, dimly aware that another phone line had lit up, indicating that the ever-efficient Todd was already making the arrangements. He would clear her schedule, see that things ran smoothly in her absence. More than ever, she thought what a godsend he was.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll arrive,” she promised. “And I’ll arrange for a rental car.”
“No need to do that. There are cars here you can use. I will tell Señor Jake. He will pick you up.”
Megan was not so distraught that the name of a man she’d thought long gone from Whispering Wind, Wyoming, slipped past her. “Jake?”
“Sí. Señor Landers. You remember.”
Oh, yes, she remembered. All too well. Sexy. Arrogant. Big-time trouble. Also a man her grandfather had once despised. Tex had worked very hard to see that Jake was out of both their lives.
“Why is Jake Landers there?”
“I am sure he will explain it all to you.”
“You tell me,” Megan insisted.
“I do not know your grandfather’s business,” Mrs. Gomez said. “Just hurry home, niña.”
It was too late to worry about hurrying, Megan thought bleakly. It was too late for so many things she had vowed to do to let her grandfather know that she loved him, that she would be forever grateful for all he had done for her.
“I’m coming home, Tex,” she murmured.
But, of course, it was too late for that to matter, too.
2
“Is she coming?” Jake asked Tex O’Rourke’s housekeeper after she had talked to Megan.
“Well, of course she is,” Mrs. Gomez replied with a touch of indignation. “Did you think she would stay away at a time like this?”
The truth was Jake didn’t know what to think about Meggie after all these years. Once he’d had a world-class crush on her, but she’d been as out of reach to him then as if they’d lived on different planets. In a very real sense, they might as well have.
As Tex O’Rourke’s granddaughter, Megan had been part of Whispering Wind’s elite social circle, such as it was. Jake had been the son of the town whore and a troublemaker in his own right. No one was more stunned than Jake himself that he had wound up a lawyer. Then again, few people knew both sides of the law as well as he did.
Jake still wasn’t entirely certain what perversity had drawn him back to Whispering Wind a few months ago. Some would say he was returning to the scene of his crimes. Others would probably assess his motives even less charitably. The bottom line, though, was that he was back, and predictably enough, the whole town was still talking about it.
Ironically, Tex O’Rourke had been one of the few who hadn’t cast judgment, but then the old man knew better than most that not all of the tales about Jake’s misdeeds had been accurate. When Tex had turned up in Jake’s office late one afternoon asking for legal help, Jake wasn’t sure which of them had been the most uncomfortable.
The last time they’d met, Jake had been charged with trying to rustle cattle from Tex’s ranch. Even though he’d eventually been cleared of the charges, it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. As for Tex, he’d bought his way out of that misjudgment by sending Jake off to college, then funding his way through law school.
When his mother died before his graduation, Jake had had every intention of never setting foot in Whispering Wind again. He’d joined a prestigious law firm in Chicago, married and settled down, chasing after money the way he’d once chased after stray cattle.
Then he’d discovered his wife in bed with one of his law partners who was on an even faster track. In the midst of their very messy divorce, he’d won an acquittal for a guy who was a perpetual loser, only to discover the kid was guilty as sin. It hadn’t taken all that much encouragement from his stuffy, uptight, publicity-shy partners to get him to quit. Jake had taken his considerable savings and investments, his bruised and battered ego, and retreated to Whispering Wind. Maybe, he reasoned, if he finally dealt with his past, he’d be able to figure out his future.
Opening a law practice here had been a halfhearted gesture, a way to keep his old neighbors from referring to him as that lazy, no-account Landers boy once again. He’d figured not a soul in town would turn to him for legal advice, but he had enough money tucked away and enough income-producing investments not to care. In fact, whole days often passed before he stopped by to check his answering machine for messages from potential clients. He should have known the most powerful man in town—his reluctant benefactor—would be the first to show up and actually catch him sitting behind his desk.
“Surprised to see you back here,” Tex had said, sinking heavily into a chair opposite Jake.
“Displeased, too, I’ll bet.”
“No, the truth is, I’m glad for the chance to make it up to you for what happened back then. You’d done some foolish things. It was easy enough to believe you’d taken the cattle. I latched on to the notion when I shouldn’t have.”
It was more of an apology than Jake had expected. He shrugged, as if it made no difference at this late date. “You paid my way through school, old man. We’re even.”
“Not just yet,” Tex insisted. “I want to hire you. That’ll bring the rest of the folks in town flocking to you.”
Jake had shuddered at the prospect. He hadn’t actually wanted to be successful all over again. It certainly hadn’t suited him well the last time. “Thanks all the same, but I came home to take it slow and easy. I don’t need you building up business for me.”
“Yeah, I heard about that kid. Must have shaken you pretty bad.” Tex had regarded him knowingly. “Almost as bad as finding out your wife was cheating on you with a man you’d thought of as a friend.”
“I see you’ve kept up,” Jake said dryly, not the least bit surprised at the old man’s ability to ferret out secrets. Tex had always known what Jake and Megan were up to, that was for sure, and he’d done his best to see that things between them never went too far.
“You cost me enough,” Tex said, explaining away his interest. “I figured it was my duty to see how my investment was paying off.”
Anger, long denied, surfaced. “No, what cost you was misjudging me. I was never a thief, old man, and you should have known it. I respected you, looked up to you like a father. I gave you an honest day’s work for every penny you ever paid me, and then some.”
Tex nodded in agreement. “True enough. And that’s exactly what I expect of you now.”
“What kind of legal work do you want me to do?” Jake asked reluctantly.
“I want you to write up my will, make it airtight, so no legal shark can pull it apart after I’m gone.”
Jake studied him and noticed something he should have spotted earlier. Tex O’Rourke’s color was bad, his complexion ashen. His words came with a hitch in his breath. For a man not yet seventy, a man who’d always been in robust health, the changes were dramatic.
Jake was surprisingly shaken by the thought of his old nemesis dying. He’d realized in that instant that, even after all this time, he wanted to prove himself to this cantankerous old man. Until the day Tex had charged him with cattle rustling, he’d been the closest thing to a father figure Jake had ever known. The realization that there might not be much time left shook him.
“Is it your heart?” he asked, trying not to let his dismay show. Tex would hate pity more than most men, hate it coming from him even more.
“So the doc says. It’s my opinion I’m too contrary to die, but you never know where God stands on something like that, so I’m not taking any chances.” He leveled a look straight into Jake’s eyes. “Will you do it?”
Filled with reluctance, Jake reached for a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
An hour later he was reeling. “Megan’s going to be fit to be tied,” he said.
Tex shrugged. “She’ll adapt. It won’t be the first time life’s tossed her a curve.”
“Being dumped on your doorstep as a kid was one thing. She had no choice. Now she does. She has a successful career in New York. Why should she come back here?”
Tex slammed his fist on the desk, proving he still had power enough to make his point. “Because, by God, she’s my flesh and blood. She’ll do what’s right, because that’s the way I raised her.”
“She doesn’t know anything at all about this?” Jake asked. “You’ve told her nothing?”
“Not a word. She hasn’t been home in months now and this isn’t something I wanted to get into on the phone. If the doc’s right, she’ll find out soon enough.”
“And I’m the one who gets to break the news.”
Tex grinned at Jake’s discomfort. “You’ll enjoy it, son. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been itching for a way to get under Meggie’s skin since the first time you laid eyes on her. Now’s your chance to do it. Better yet, you’ll have my blessing. That ought to satisfy you.”
It was evident that afternoon that the old coot had thoroughly enjoyed the bombshell he’d dropped and the fix he was putting Jake in. Now it was time for Jake to follow through.
But how the devil was he supposed to tell Meggie that her beloved grandfather had had a short-lived liaison with what could only be described as an unsuitable woman? Moreover, Jake was expected to explain that Tex had fathered a child who was now eight years old and had only recently come to live with him, abandoned on his doorstep just as carelessly and indifferently as Megan had once been.
Even worse than all that, though, he was going to have to break the news that Megan O’Rourke—hot-shot media executive—was now this child’s legal guardian and that she was expected to raise the girl on the very ranch she had fled a decade earlier, or she would lose her inheritance.
Even in death, Tex O’Rourke was destined to turn several lives upside down—Jake’s among them. Tex was probably laughing all the way to hell.
Megan had done everything but beg. Nothing she’d said, though, had dissuaded Mrs. Gomez from sending Jake Landers to pick her up at the airport.
“He will be there, niña. Look for him. You will recognize him, Sí?”
Recognize Jake? Oh, yes. She would be able to pick that low-down, conniving son of a gun out of a crowd of thousands. Her personal radar had been attuned to him practically from the second she’d hit puberty. It had taken several long and painful years for her to discover that her radar was not capable of exercising good judgment. When he’d stolen Tex’s cattle, she’d finally realized her mistake. Jake had been securely locked behind bars when she’d left for college. His name had never once been mentioned in all the years since.
So what on earth was he doing at the ranch now? she wondered. And why was he running errands for Mrs. Gomez? Had her grandfather hired him once he’d been released on parole, maybe given him an undeserved second chance? Tex wasn’t sentimental, so she doubted it. Jake had probably pulled some scam to get back in her grandfather’s good graces.
When the plane landed in Laramie, Megan was the first one off. It didn’t take more than a quick glance around the waiting area to spot Jake. He was propped against a railing, dressed in black from head to toe, the stereotypical western bad guy from his Stetson to his boots. Even his reflective sunglasses spelled trouble. At least they prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes. He’d always been able to make her weak kneed with a glance from those piercing blue eyes.
“I’m glad to see you’re on time,” Megan said briskly, handing him her baggage claim slips. “Four bags, all matching, Gucci.”
He grinned. “Of course, they would be.”
His amused tone, the wash of his deep baritone, raised goose bumps. The sarcasm irritated. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped, already breaking her vow to remain cool and impersonal for however long she had to put up with his company.
“Just an observation, Meggie. Don’t get your drawers in a knot.”
“My drawers are none of your concern.”
He waved the luggage claim slips under her nose.
“Apparently they are, unless you’re wearing the only ones you brought.” He tilted his head consideringly. “Or don’t you bother with them these days?”
“Your mind’s in the gutter as always, I see,” she said, casting an imperious look his way and sweeping past him. She all but raced for the baggage claim area. Ten seconds, maybe less—that was how long it had taken the man to not only rile her, but remind her that she’d once wanted him with a passion so powerful it had threatened to wreck her life.
There had been a time when she would have chosen Jake Landers over anything. She would have ditched her dreams, settled for an uncertain future, if only this man were a part of it. Nothing anyone said could persuade her that Jake was all wrong for her. Then the cattle had gone missing, Jake had gone to jail and, brokenhearted and disillusioned, Megan had left Wyoming.
There hadn’t been a single day since that she had looked back with regret. He’d betrayed her as well as her grandfather. It was something she wasn’t likely to forgive or forget.
She supposed a case could be made that she owed him. His crime had revealed her first significant error in judgment, forced her to reevaluate her priorities. She now had the career she’d been destined for, thanks to Jake’s betrayal. She socialized with men who were rich and powerful and, most important, honest. Thanks to lessons learned, she was slow and cautious before trusting anyone. People took advantage of her at their own peril, because she had a reputation for being ruthless with those who tried.
Megan stood by while Jake gathered her luggage, then followed him to the parking lot. Though it was only mid-October, the air had the sharp bite of winter in it. She shivered as it cut through her lightweight wool jacket.
“I hope you brought something heavier than that to wear,” Jake said, opening the door for her. “They’re predicting snow for later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ve been dressing myself for years now.”
“When was the last time you were in Wyoming when cold weather hit?”
“Not that long ago,” she responded evasively, aware that there was a guilty flush in her cheeks.
“Does Christmas four years ago ring any bells?”
The accuracy rankled. “What have you been doing, grilling Mrs. Gomez?”
“Didn’t have to. She likes to talk,” he said as he started the engine. He glanced her way. “You’re one of her favorite subjects.”
“I’ll have to speak to her about that. I’m not sure I like being a topic of discussion for her and one of the hands.”
Jake’s posture behind the wheel of the fancy sports utility vehicle had been surprisingly relaxed, but his shoulders tensed at her remark. He turned toward her and, for the first time, removed the glasses and seared her with eyes that sparked blue fire.
“Maybe we should get something straight right now, Meggie. I’m here as a favor to Mrs. Gomez and, in a way, to your grandfather. I don’t work at your grandfather’s ranch. In fact, if things turn out the way I hope they will, before too much longer I’ll own it.”
If he’d roped her and dragged her feetfirst through the mud, she wouldn’t have been any more stunned. “Never,” she said fiercely. The idea of turning the ranch over to a man who’d stolen from her grandfather was thoroughly repugnant.
Her vehement response, however, only seemed to amuse him. “You planning on sticking around to run it?”
The question threw her. She actually hadn’t considered what was to become of the ranch. From the moment she’d heard about Tex’s death, all she’d thought about was the huge, gaping hole in her life. Even at a distance, Tex O’Rourke had been very much with her. Never again would she hear the gruffly spoken, “I love you, girl,” with which he’d ended every conversation, no matter how contentious. The hated ranch hadn’t once entered her mind.
Of course, it would be hers now. She was Tex’s only living relative, unless Sarah were around somewhere. He would expect Megan to run his cattle empire, no doubt about it. It wouldn’t matter to him that she knew precious little about ranching, that she hated it or that her life was exactly the way she wanted it—in New York. Duty, a word that had been bandied about enough over the years, was what mattered to Tex.
Megan’s grief gave way to despair. She couldn’t do it. She could not stay here, and that was that. She didn’t have to think about it, didn’t need to examine the moral dilemma she faced from every angle. She would stay in Whispering Wind long enough to take care of Tex’s affairs and then she would go back to New York.
“Well, Meggie, what is it? You going to stay or go?”
“I’ll be going,” she said at once. “But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I sell the ranch to you. I’ll let the place fall to ruin before I let you have it.”
She didn’t even stop to consider his arrogance in assuming he could afford it. If the man had accumulated millions, it still wouldn’t be enough to buy Tex’s ranch, not with the price tag she would put on it to keep it out of his reach.
“We’ll see,” Jake said. “There’s time enough to decide.”
His quiet confidence that she would eventually change her mind rattled her. The old Jake would have raged at her insulting dismissal, forced her to dig in her heels. This Jake with his mild response was leaving her wiggling room, a way to extricate herself from a hasty decision without losing face. Why? she wondered. What was he up to now? Had her grandfather made an agreement with him that she knew nothing about?
She felt his gaze on her and forced herself to face him. “What?”
“I haven’t said it before now, Meggie, but I am sorry about Tex. I know you loved him. More than that, I know he loved you. You’ll need to hang on to that in the days to come.”
There was genuine sympathy in his voice. That alone would have startled her, but she was pretty sure she heard something else, as well. A warning, perhaps, that there were shocks to come? Or was it no more than his awareness that making burial arrangements, the funeral itself, dealing with death’s aftermath would be grueling? That had to be it, she assured herself. What else could he have meant?
Unwanted and unexpected tears stinging her eyes at Jake’s sympathy, Megan turned away and stared out the window as he put the car into gear and headed for home. The drive took over an hour, with barely a word spoken. He seemed content enough to leave her to her thoughts. More than once she wished he’d say something, anything, just so she could pick a fight with him. Silence left her too much time to grieve, too much time to think about walking into the ranch house for the first time without Tex there to greet her.
By the time they turned into the ranch’s long, winding drive, the sun had vanished behind a bank of heavy, gray clouds. Snow, thick and wet, splashed against the windshield. The air, when she finally stepped out of the car’s warmth, was raw.
Leaving the luggage to Jake, she ran toward the front door, only to skid to a halt on the porch when the door was opened by a child of eight or nine, her eyes puffy and red from crying, her hair a tangle of thick auburn curls.
“Who’re you?” she demanded, glaring up at Megan.
“I’m Megan O’Rourke,” Megan responded automatically, then realized that she was the one who ought to be asking questions. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tess. I live here,” she declared with a hint of defiance.
Megan stared at her, as shocked as if the girl had uttered an especially vile obscenity. “That can’t be,” she murmured, just as Jake bounded onto the porch and tucked a supporting hand under her elbow to guide her inside.
The child regarded him with only slightly less hostility. “We’re about to have dinner. You gonna stay again?”
Jake ignored the lack of warmth in the invitation and grinned. “Chicken and dumplings?”
She nodded. “Mrs. Gomez said they were her favorites,” she said, gesturing toward Megan. She gave Megan another defiant look. “I hate chicken and dumplings.”
That said, she stomped off in the direction of the kitchen. Megan watched her go, then sank down on the nearest chair. “Who is that child and what is she doing here?” she demanded, already dreading the answer. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that whatever his response was, she was going to hate it. That red hair all but shouted that the girl was an O’Rourke.
“Her name is Tess,” Jake began.
“She told me that much.”
“Tess O’Rourke.”
The confirmation sent a shudder washing over her. Her gaze shot to his. “Please, don’t tell me…” She couldn’t even say it.
“She’s your grandfather’s daughter,” he said. “Which technically makes her your aunt, but I think you can be forgiven if you decide not to call her Auntie Tess.”
Megan had hoped for a distant cousin, maybe. Even a sister. But an aunt? It was ludicrous. “I don’t believe this,” she murmured. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it.”
“But how?”
“The usual way, I imagine. All I know for sure is that Tex just found out about her himself a few months back. She was abandoned on his doorstep. He didn’t think he should mention it on the phone.”
“Yeah, I can see why he might not want to,” Megan said wryly.
Jake was studying her sympathetically. “You okay?”
“Just peachy.”
“Good, because it gets more interesting.”
Megan shook her head. “I don’t think I can handle anything more interesting.”
“You’ll adapt. Isn’t that what you do best?”
He said it in a way that sounded more accusatory than complimentary. She didn’t have time to analyze why before he continued.
“According to your grandfather’s will, you are officially Tess’s legal guardian.”
“No,” she whispered, stunned not only by the concept, but by the weight of the responsibility. She hadn’t planned on having kids, at least not without going through the usual preparations—marriage, pregnancy, nine months to get used to the idea. She hadn’t even had nine seconds.
She tried to imagine taking a kid back to New York with her, fitting her into a life already stretched to its limits. Her imagination, always vivid, failed miserably.
“There has to be another way. Mrs. Gomez…”
“She’ll help out, certainly,” Jake said. “She’s told me she intends to stay on here as long as you need her.”
“Well, that’s it, then,” Megan said gratefully, relieved to have the issue settled so expeditiously.
“Not quite,” Jake said. “You can’t just dump Tess with Mrs. Gomez and take off.”
“Why the hell can’t I?” she all but shouted as panic flooded through her.
“Because Tex has spelled everything out in his will. I’ll give you a copy later.”
His intimate familiarity with the details of Tex’s wishes stirred suspicion. “How do you know so much about Tex’s will?” she asked, gaze narrowed.
“Because I’m the one who drew it up. Believe me, it’s airtight.”
Megan wondered just how many more shocks her heart could take before she wound up in a grave right next to Tex. “You’re a lawyer?”
“A damned good one, if I do say so myself. You renege on the terms Tex has spelled out and the ranch is up for grabs.” His expression turned triumphant. “In other words, it’ll be all but mine, Meggie, and there won’t be a damned thing you can do to stop it.”
3
Jake wasn’t sure what had gotten into him in the car. Why had he declared his intention to get his hands on Tex’s ranch? He’d been toying with the idea in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t decided on it. Far from it. He was still painting the inside of the modest little house he’d bought in town, discovering that he liked fixing leaky faucets and patching cracks in the walls. What did he need with a ranch?
Sure, owning such a spread would represent respectability. Even the doubters in Whispering Wind would have to take him seriously if he became the area’s biggest rancher. Mrs. Perkins at the general store might stop trailing him around as if he were about to steal a loaf of bread. The explanation made sense, but he had a hunch his motives were a whole lot more complicated than that.
Like making Meggie crazy, for one thing. Maybe just to taunt her into sticking around for the sake of that little girl who was in desperate need of someone to love. Though Tess hadn’t exactly warmed to him, he had to admit he had a soft spot for her.
The child had come from a background not all that different from his own. Whether she knew it yet or not, Tess had lucked out when her mother had dumped her on Tex’s doorstep. For all of his gruff demeanor, Tex was a man a person could count on. Losing him so unexpectedly and so soon had been a bad break. Getting Meggie for a mother, well, it remained to be seen how that would turn out.
While Megan went upstairs to clean up for dinner—and probably to gather her very rattled composure—Jake wandered into the kitchen, where he’d felt at home the very first time he’d walked through the door years and years ago. Mrs. Gomez had always fit his image of the perfect mother, such a far cry from his own that he thought she’d been conjured up straight out of a fairy tale. She was blustery and affectionate by turns, and she always had some treat in the oven.
“Sit, sit,” Mrs. Gomez encouraged now, waving him toward the table.
The aroma of sugar and chocolate competed with that of the chicken stewing on the stove. Unable to resist, Jake snatched a still-warm cookie from the baking sheet, then sat as she’d asked.
“How come he gets to have a cookie before supper and I don’t?” Tess demanded.
“Because he’s a grown-up and I can’t boss him around,” the housekeeper said.
“You can’t boss me around, either,” Tess said. “I’m not your kid.”
“No, niña, but you are my responsibility, and I will see that you do right, because that is what your father would have wanted.”
“Some father,” Tess muttered. “He didn’t even know I existed till I showed up here. I guess he and my mom weren’t real close.”
Jake caught Mrs. Gomez’s helpless look and stepped in. “He was here for you when it counted, wasn’t he? He took you in, made a home for you. The last few months haven’t been so bad, have they?”
Her bright green eyes shimmered with tears, reminding him of another little girl, another time. Tess’s lower lip trembled, but that O’Rourke chin jutted defiantly.
“Fat lot of good that does me now,” she declared. “He’s dead and I ain’t staying here with her.” She nodded toward the door to indicate the absent Megan, no doubt.
“I will be here, too,” Mrs. Gomez promised. “We will all get along just fine.”
“And I’ll be around,” Jake added.
“Over my dead body,” Megan retorted, striding into the room and heading straight for Mrs. Gomez, who opened her arms wide to embrace her.
“Ah, niña, it is good to have you home, but not so good that it is under these circumstances,” the housekeeper said. She tucked a finger under Megan’s chin and looked her in the eye. “You are holding up okay? Shall I fix you some tea? I have all of your favorites—raspberry, orange spice, whatever you like.”
Jake detected a hint of puffiness under Megan’s eyes and guessed she’d indulged in a good cry upstairs, where it could be done without witnesses. That had always been her way, ingrained in her by Tex, no doubt. Tex had been critical of emotional displays. Jake had seen Meggie swallow back tears no matter how much pain she might have been in, physical or emotional.
“I’m fine,” Megan insisted. Like Jake, she reached for a cookie and bit into it, oblivious to Tess’s expression of disgust.
“Geez-oh-flip, does everybody get to break rules around this place but me?” Tess demanded, scraping her chair away from the table. She shoved open the back door and disappeared into the gathering darkness.
“She does not have her coat,” Mrs. Gomez said worriedly, moving toward the hook by the door where the red, down-filled jacket hung. “It is too cold for her to be outside.”
“I’ll go,” Jake said, his hand on her shoulder. “You stay here with Megan.”
Glad of an excuse to escape the restlessness that seeing Meggie stirred in him, he grabbed Tess’s coat from the hook and flipped on an outdoor light as he went out. He spotted the child racing toward the barn, ducking into shadows. He suspected the new litter of kittens he’d heard about was at least part of the reason for her destination.
Sure enough, he found her kneeling beside a box that had been lined with an old flannel shirt, one of Tex’s favorites, if Jake wasn’t mistaken. He wondered if it had been confiscated for this particular duty before or after his death. Jake grinned at the sight of orange-and-white balls of fluff tumbling around inside the box, scrambling to get to their mama’s milk.
“They’re getting big,” he observed, hunkering down beside Tess. “Do you have a favorite?”
“Not really,” she said, but her gaze was fixed on the runt of the litter, who couldn’t seem to squeeze in to feed.
Jake reached down, picked the littlest kitten up and made room for it. “Looks like this one needs some extra attention,” he said, thinking it was a lot like Tess herself. Megan, too, though she would have hated the comparison.
“I suppose.”
“Maybe you should consider adopting it and taking it inside. It’s big enough now, especially if you bottle-fed it for a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t,” she said, though her expression was wistful.
“How come?”
“Tex said.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said he wasn’t having some damned cat bringing in fleas and tearing up the furniture.”
Jake held back a grin. He had a hunch she’d nailed the old man’s exact words. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“That if Tex could see how lonely you’ve been feeling the last day or so, he’d change his mind.”
Her face brightened. “Do you think so?”
“I know so,” Jake insisted, because there wasn’t a chance in hell the old man could contradict him. Tess needed something weaker and needier to tend to right now. He doubted Mrs. Gomez would have any objections. He knew for a fact there were cats crawling all over her own house. She took in every stray that ever came to the door, him included. On more than one occasion, she’d been the one he’d run to when he couldn’t bear one more night in the same house with his mother and her “gentlemen callers.”
He glanced up from the kittens and caught Tess studying him intently.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Is she going to keep me?”
“You mean Megan?”
Tess nodded, her expression bleak. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“You just took her by surprise, that’s all. No one had told her about you.”
“Well, having her come busting in here like she owns the place ain’t no picnic for me, either.”
“She does own the place,” Jake pointed out gently.
“Then how come she doesn’t live here?”
“Because she’s got a job in New York.”
“That TV show,” Tess said, feigning disinterest despite the spark of fascination that lit her eyes. “Tex used to watch it sometimes. He didn’t think I knew that, but I did. Sometimes I’d hide out in his office behind that big old chair of his. Right after dinner, he’d come in there, put in the tape and watch, muttering to himself.”
“Ever hear what he said?”
“That it was damned fool nonsense,” she quoted, probably precisely. “You know what I think, though?”
“What?”
“That he was real proud of her. He never looked at me the way he looked at that show of hers.” Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t think he gave a damn about me at all.”
Ignoring the substance of the remark for the moment, he chided, “You know, kiddo, you really do need to clean up your language. Ladies don’t swear half as much as you do.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be no lady.”
Jake grinned at the defiance. “What do you want to be?”
Her expression brightened. “A rancher, just like Tex,” she said decisively. “Then I could boss people around and make lots of money and ride horses.” She met Jake’s gaze. “He was teaching me to ride. Did you know that? That’s when it happened. He fell right down on the ground. I screamed and screamed for somebody to come, but it took forever. I didn’t know what to do. I’ve seen that CPR stuff on TV, but I didn’t know how to do it. Not the right way, anyway. I tried and tried, but nothing helped.”
Sobs shook her shoulders. “I didn’t mean for him to die,” she whispered brokenly, launching herself at Jake. Her skinny little arms wound so tightly around his neck that he could scarcely breathe. “Sometimes I said I hated him and sometimes I said I wished he were dead, but I never meant it. Never.”
“Oh, baby, I know that,” Jake soothed, feeling totally out of his depth. “Tex was sick. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But if I hadn’t come, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten sick.”
“No. That’s not the way it works. He’d been sick for a while. He told me that himself. His heart just gave up. It could have happened anytime. I promise you, you had nothing to do with it.”
Slowly Tess’s sobs subsided. She sniffed, accepted Jake’s handkerchief and blew her nose. She blinked away the last of the tears and regarded him evenly. “I got an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m thinking I should come and live with you.”
Jake realized he had walked right smack into that one. He’d made it a point to spend time with Tess the past couple of weeks, anticipating what might happen, knowing the kid would need a friend until she adjusted to all the upheaval.
Not that seeing Tess had been any sacrifice. She was bright and funny, and she did have a mouth on her. She didn’t like him, didn’t trust him and had no qualms about telling him just that. Jake had overlooked it all and stayed the course. The fact that she was willing to turn to him now proved he’d done the right thing. With persistence, he’d slipped past her defenses. It was critical to tred carefully.
He took her hands in his and kept his gaze on her face. “Honey, you know that’s not possible. I explained it to you before. Tex named Megan your legal guardian in case anything happened to him.”
“But she doesn’t want me,” Tess said, wrenching herself free. Hands on hips, she faced him. “You know she doesn’t. I’ll mess up her life.”
“It’s going to take a little time for her to get used to the idea, just the way it took time for you to get used to being here with Tex. Everybody’s real upset about Tex right now. I told you before, I’ll be around. You can come to me with any problem, but you can’t live with me.”
“Then I’ll go find my mom.”
Jake had anticipated that sooner or later that thought would occur to her. Rather than squashing the notion outright, he asked quietly, “Any idea where she is?”
“No, but I can find her. I’ll just ask a lot of questions till somebody tells me. She’s probably back in Laramie. That’s where we lived before she brought me here.”
Jake knew better. He’d searched Laramie for some trace of Tess’s mother himself. “Honey, she’s probably moved on.”
“I can find her. I know it.”
“Tell me something,” Jake said. “Do you study geography in school?”
“Sure.”
“Then you know it’s a big country. Your mom could be anywhere.”
She stared at him, then. A look of utter defeat crossed her face. “It could take forever, then, couldn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Nothing’s fair.”
“No,” he said gently. “There’s nothing fair about losing your dad almost before you really got a chance to know him. There’s nothing fair about your mama running out on you. But it is going to work out, Tess. I swear to you. Megan’s got a good heart. You’ll get along well enough.”
“You can’t make her care about me,” she said, with the weary resignation of someone who’d learned too early that love was never a guarantee, not even from a parent.
“I can’t make her, no, but she will, honey. I know she will.” If he had to hog-tie her and explain a few facts of life, Megan O’Rourke would do right by this child. Just as Tex had predicted, Jake would enjoy every single minute of seeing to it.
If it had been up to Megan, Tex’s funeral would have been private. It was Jake who handed her a letter with Tex’s wishes spelled out. He wanted something lavish, even though he hadn’t set foot inside of a church in years.
“The service isn’t for me. I’ll already be wherever I’m heading,” he’d written. “It’s for you, Megan. I want you to be surrounded by the steady, solid folks around here. Maybe it’ll help you to remember what it’s like to have friends who can share your grief, who’ll be there for you and expect nothing in return. Seems to me like you’ve accumulated enough of the other kind in New York.”
She sighed at his words. Leave it to Tex to take a dig at her life-style while laying out his own funeral arrangements. She forced herself to read on.
“After all the hoopla’s over, bury me quietly on that rise overlooking the creek,” he’d instructed. “I’ve already made arrangements for my tombstone. It’s nothing fancy, so don’t you go adding any flowery sentiments to it. Plain and simple will do me just fine.”
When she’d finished reading, she folded the letter precisely and tucked it back into the plain white envelope with her name scrawled across the front in Tex’s careless script.
“I suppose you know what it says,” she said to Jake, irritated that he’d been taken into her grandfather’s confidence when she had not.
“The gist of it,” he agreed. “Obviously, the details are up to you, but he made his feelings known.”
“And, of course, I’ll do as he asked,” she said wearily.
Jake studied her intently. “About everything?”
“You’re talking about Tess, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Jake, I can’t think about that now. I really can’t. I’m feeling…” Her voice trailed off and she held up her hands in a rare gesture of helplessness.
“Lost? Overwhelmed? Angry?” he supplied.
She caught herself wanting to smile at the litany, which was eerily accurate, reminiscent of a time when Jake had read her mind with ease. “Pretty much,” she admitted.
“Some of this you’ll have to handle yourself, but in terms of the funeral, if you’re agreeable to what Tex wanted, you can sit back and leave the rest to me,” Jake offered. “I’ll make the arrangements for the service and the burial.”
She balked at letting him take on that task. Duty came to mind again. “It’s my responsibility.”
He shook his head and grinned. “Ah, Meggie, you never did know when to let go, did you? I’m surprised you haven’t gone up in flames with all that’s on your plate in New York. Do you trust anyone to handle even the tiniest detail?”
She thought of Todd and his incredible efficiency. “Of course,” she snapped.
Jake’s steady gaze was skeptical. “Really?”
Okay, she admitted to herself, the truth was that not much got past without her final approval. Her staff sometimes chafed at the lack of faith, but she reminded them repeatedly that it was her name on the magazine, her image on the television screen, her reputation on the line. Admitting any of that to Jake, though, was not an option.
“It’s a funeral, not a presidential inauguration. I can handle it,” she informed him. “I’ll be sure and call your office when the time is set.”
He grinned and settled back in the easy chair opposite her—Tex’s chair, the leather one that was oversize to fit a big man. Jake looked as at home in it as Tex ever had. The relief she felt at Jake’s being there unnerved her. The house was too empty without Tex. She accepted the fact that it would have felt that way even if it had been crowded with people. She told herself that a cattle thief was a poor substitute for the honorable man her grandfather had been, but she was a little too grateful for the company just the same. That made it all the more important to see that he left.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asked testily.
“You trying to get rid of me, Meggie?”
“I was hoping to, yes,” she said bluntly. “I’m tired, Jake. It’s been a long, grueling day.”
“I’m sure it has been,” he agreed. “But there are matters we have to discuss.”
“Tonight?”
“I think so.”
“Such as?”
“Tess.”
Her head pounded just thinking about Tess. “I told you I am not talking about Tess.”
“You can’t ignore the subject, Megan. She’s not going to vanish overnight.”
Megan closed her eyes as if to deny the truth of what he was saying. Unfortunately, Tess was very real and apparently very much her responsibility. Megan didn’t have to see the terms of Tex’s will in black and white to prove it. She doubted that Jake, for all of his flaws, would have the audacity to lie about something so important.
“I can’t deal with this now.”
“You have to,” he insisted.
“Aren’t you the one who just finished saying that Tess wasn’t going anywhere? I’ll deal with that situation tomorrow.”
“Or the next day or the one after that,” he suggested sarcastically. “She’s a kid. You can’t just back-burner her until it’s convenient. She needs some reassurance that things are going to work out, that you’ll take care of her now. She’s already convinced you don’t want her. Can you imagine how insecure that makes her feel?”
The memory of another terrified, insecure little girl came back to haunt her. Megan tried to push it aside, bury it where it belonged, in the past. “Where did this show of concern come from?” she asked Jake. “I don’t remember you being the fatherly type.”
“I’m talking common decency here. Tess is scared. Can you blame her? Of all people, you ought to know what it feels like to be dumped on someone’s doorstep.”
Megan shuddered despite herself. The memories flooded back once more. It had been more than two decades ago and she still remembered how terrifyingly alone she had felt in a strange house, knowing that her mother had gone away, more than likely for good.
What was it about the women in Tex’s life—his own daughter, Tess’s mama, even Megan herself—that they all fled? Had they been overwhelmed by the sheer force of his personality? Had they needed to escape to find themselves?
“I’ll check on Tess when I go upstairs,” she said, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t leave her in peace without such a promise.
“It’ll take more than a kiss on the cheek and tucking the blankets around her to fix things,” Jake pointed out, still not satisfied.
“Dammit, I know that,” Megan said, frustrated by his persistence. “I’ll do what I can. You’ve known about this for how long now? Weeks, maybe. Months. I’ve had less than a day. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m inept at the maternal bit. As you just reminded me, I never had an example to go by.”
He looked vaguely guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to reopen old wounds.”
“Of course you did. And you were right,” she admitted with a sigh. “I should be more understanding, since I went through the exact same thing.” She thought of Tess’s attitude. The child had deliberately done everything in her power to goad Megan all through dinner. “She’s not making it easy, you know.”
Jake clearly wasn’t persuaded. “Did you?”
She thought back. She’d pretty much challenged Tex every chance she got until the ground rules were laid out and had taken hold. “I suppose not.”
“You’re the grown-up now, Meggie. Do what you wish had been done for you way back then.” That said, he finally seemed satisfied that he’d done what he could. He stood up and headed for the door. “You need anything, call.”
“I’ll manage.”
He shook his head. “Whatever.” At the door, he paused. “We’ll go over the rest of Jake’s will after the funeral, okay? That’ll be soon enough.”
Megan doubted there were any more bombshells to be dropped. Just in case, though, she muttered, “I can’t wait.”
As soon as Jake was gone, she slipped over to Tex’s chair just as she had so many times in the past the instant her grandfather had left the room. The leather was still warm from Jake’s heat. She could almost pretend that Tex himself had just been sitting there, but it was Jake’s scent that surrounded her tonight. Despite her reluctance to accept anything at all from him, she curled up in the spot where he’d been and took comfort from the lingering traces of his presence.
She thought of the pushy, irritating man who’d just left, the angry little girl upstairs and the sneaky old coot who was gone forever.
“Oh, Tex,” she whispered, battling fresh tears. “What have you done to me?”
4
The slightly plump woman standing on the front porch with an armload of casserole dishes had a wary expression in her eyes, as if she were uncertain of her welcome. Her arrival had taken Megan by surprise. In New York she wasn’t used to people dropping by, and even if they did, there was a whole layer of security built in before they ever reached her. Surprise didn’t take away the pleasure, however. It had been way too long since she’d seen her onetime best friend.
“Megan, it’s me, Peggy,” the woman announced in an insecure rush before Megan could acknowledge her. “I probably should have called first, but we don’t stand on ceremony much around here. It’s probably not like that in New York. What with all you do, you probably have a zillion secretaries to keep people from bothering you.” She thrust the food toward Megan. “I’ll just leave this and run along.”
If she’d slowed down for even a second, Megan would have welcomed her with a hug, but Peggy had always chattered on without pausing for breath. Being ill at ease only made her worse. Megan snagged her friend’s arm as she turned away.
“You get in here, Peggy. You’re not going anywhere,” Megan insisted.
Peggy’s expression brightened. “Are you sure? I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“How could you possibly be a bother? Now get in here. Let me take this into the other room and I’ll be right with you.”
She waited until Peggy had come inside before carrying the still-warm casseroles toward the dining room table, which was already heaped with offerings from other neighbors. When she returned to the foyer, Peggy was still regarding her uncertainly.
“I wasn’t sure you’d even remember me,” she confessed.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Megan said, startled by the statement. “We grew up together. I slept over at your house whenever Tex would let me. You know more of my secrets than anyone else on earth. How could you possibly think I wouldn’t remember you?”
Peggy shrugged. “It’s been a long time.” She said it without judgment or rancor, just a statement of fact that spoke volumes about the way Megan had cut not only Whispering Wind, but everyone in it out of her life. There’d been no cards, no letters, not even a quick, occasional phone call to Peggy.
“I’m sorry,” Megan said sincerely. “I never meant for so much time to go by. Can you stay for a bit? We can make up for lost time.”
Even as she said the words, she realized just how much she had missed having a real confidante, someone who knew her inside out and never judged. She had hundreds of acquaintances now, but few good friends and absolutely no one who shared a lifelong history with her. Seeing Peggy and remembering middle-of-the-night confidences, shared dreams and irrepressible giggles made her feel the absence in a way she never had before.
“Are you sure?” Peggy asked. “I know you must have a million and one things to do. We’re all real sorry about Tex. If there’s anything you need, you just have to ask. Wilma at the funeral home said you’d been in to arrange for the services. Everyone’ll be there, of course. Tex touched a lot of lives around here. I never realized how many till I was grown and on my own. Kids never do, I guess.” She paused and grinned. “I guess you can tell I still go on and on. Just hush me up whenever you’re tired of hearing my voice. Johnny says I could talk a man to death. He believes that’s how I get my way so often.”
Megan searched her memory. The image of a freckle-faced blond boy with an untamable cowlick and a shy smile came to mind. “You married Johnny Barkley?”
“Who else?” Peggy said. “I mooned over him long enough. I guess I just wore him down. We have three children, two boys and a girl, which explains how I’ve managed to put on twenty pounds I don’t need and turned most of my hair gray, though you can’t tell it because of the blond rinse I’ve been using. I’ll be darned if I’m going to look old before my time the way my mama did. Of course, she looks terrific now that she’s down in Arizona. She had herself a facelift last year. I swear she looks almost as young as me.”
“Well, you certainly look wonderful,” Megan said with total sincerity. Despite the extra weight, Peggy looked healthy and happy—contented in a way that Megan found herself envying without knowing why. Her green eyes sparkled with merriment, just as they had when she and Megan were children.
“Go on into the living room and have a seat,” Megan urged. “I’ll have Mrs. Gomez fix us some tea. Or would you rather have coffee?”
“I’ll have a soda if she has one. Any kind will do.”
“A Dr Pepper,” Megan said, suddenly remembering. They had gone through cases of the stuff. “I’ll bet there are some in the fridge.”
In the kitchen, she found the housekeeper trying to stuff the already overloaded refrigerator with yet another casserole that had just been delivered to the back door by a neighbor who hadn’t wanted to bother Megan.
“It’s a good thing the funeral’s tomorrow or all this food would go bad,” she said. “Not much of a loss, if you ask me. There’s not an enchilada in the lot of them.”
“Maybe folks figure your spicy cooking is what put Tex in his grave and they’re not taking any chances,” Megan teased, then regretted it when she saw the sheen of tears in the housekeeper’s eyes. Megan wrapped her arms around her. “Don’t you dare cry. If you do, you’ll have me weeping.”
“Crying might do you some good. Better to let your emotions out than keep them all bottled up the way Tex made you do,” the housekeeper said with undisguised disapproval. “You remember when that boy—Bobby Temple, Sí? He shoved you down in the mud in your brand-new winter coat. You were crying and carrying on. Tex gave you one of those looks of his and said, ‘Girl, an O’Rourke always holds his chin up high and we never, ever cry over things that are over and done.’”
Mrs. Gomez had captured Tex’s words exactly. Megan had heard them often enough. She gave the housekeeper another hug. “Oh, I’ll do my share of crying before this is over,” she assured her. “Right now, though, Peggy’s here and we were wondering if there’s any Dr Pepper around.”
Mrs. Gomez’s expression brightened. “I believe there’s some in the pantry. I’ll fill some tall glasses with lots of ice the way you used to like it, and I’ll bring it right along.”
“I’ll get it. You have enough to do.” Megan found an entire case of the soft drink in the pantry. Emerging with a couple of cans, she regarded the housekeeper with a wry look. “I take it you were expecting Peggy to drop by.”
“Of course, niña. She is your best friend. Where else would she be at a time like this?”
Some friend I’ve been, Megan thought as she took the drinks into the living room. Peggy was married and had three children Megan had known nothing about until today. She’d never even asked after her friend when she’d talked to Tex, and he wasn’t one to volunteer information.
In the living room she found Peggy perched on the edge of the sofa as if she still might take off at any second. Once she would have been curled up in a corner of that same overstuffed sofa with her shoes kicked off and a fat pillow hugged to her middle.
Megan handed a glass to her friend and sat at the opposite end. “Okay, then. Married. Three kids. What else have you been up to?”
Peggy gave her an amused look. “I can tell you don’t have kids, if you have to ask a question like that. Three of them, all under the age of ten, pretty much eliminates anything except sleeping six hours a night if I’m lucky.”
Megan thought of Tess and the disruptions she faced to her own life, and shuddered. “I imagine I’ll be finding out for myself soon enough,” she said, testing the idea aloud for the first time.
Though she’d been praying for some other solution, Jake’s words and a long night of restless tossing and turning had left her fully aware that she couldn’t simply abandon the girl, no matter how much either of them would have preferred it. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she simply walked away.
Peggy gave her an understanding look. “Then you know about Tess? I’d wondered.”
“Oh, yes, I know. I found out when I got here.”
“Sweet heaven! Not before?” Peggy asked, clearly shocked. “It’s been the talk of the town for months now. I thought surely Tex would have told you.”
“No one thought to tell me,” Megan said with undisguised bitterness. “Of course, Mrs. Gomez wouldn’t think it was her place. And apparently Tex didn’t think he should mention it in passing during one of his phone calls. Better to let the bomb drop when he’s not around to see the fallout. According to his lawyer, I’m expected to rise to the occasion.”
“It’ll be an adjustment, I’m sure, but it won’t be that bad. She’s a good kid,” Peggy said. “She’s spent some time at our house. She and my girl are friends, at least most days. Tess doesn’t make it easy. Then, who can blame her? It can’t have been easy having a mama walk out and getting left with a man she’d never even met before. That mama of hers ought to roast in hell for what she did.”
“Apparently that place in hell is going to be crowded with Tex’s women,” Megan observed. “The habit goes all the way back to my mother—beyond if you consider the fact that Grandmother died when my mother was barely five.”
Peggy’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It’s just that it was so long ago, what happened to you. You’ve done so well, I suppose I never think about the scars it might have left inside.”
“No scars,” Megan insisted staunchly. “You’re right. My life is as close to perfect as anything I could ever have imagined.”
“Perfect, huh? That’s certainly the impression you give on TV and in your magazine. Makes the rest of us downright envious. How’s Tess going to fit into that?”
Megan sighed. “I wish to heaven I knew.”
“Well, if anyone can make it work, it’s you,” Peggy said with absolute confidence. “After all, aren’t you the woman who tells the whole world how to turn lemons into lemonade? I swear to goodness, I think you could take the rattiest old thing lying around and turn it into some fancy decorative accent. I watched that show of yours one day and dragged an old cradle out of the basement and turned it into a planter. Johnny thought at first I was hinting about having another baby, but then I stuck a couple of ferns in there and he admitted it looked right nice. Said the watering’s likely to rot the wood before the next generation comes along, but so what? I doubt they’ll appreciate anything that doesn’t come from some discount store, anyway. Plastic’s practical. Even my mama says that, though it makes me shudder when she does. Last time I went down to Arizona to see her, I swear to goodness I was shocked. Her idea of decorating is picking up whatever’s on sale at Wal-Mart. You should have seen the mishmash. It would have brought tears to your eyes.”
Megan chuckled. “Oh, Peggy, I have missed you. No one cuts through to the heart of things the way you do. Don’t ever change.”
“I don’t suppose I could if I wanted to. This is who I am and, thank goodness, Johnny loves me for it.” She paused and studied Megan carefully. “You’ve changed, though.”
“How?” Megan asked, expecting her to say something about the expensive highlights in the sophisticated, yet casually short hairstyle that had replaced the ponytails of her youth. Or maybe something about the elegant clothes that were a far cry from the worn-out blue jeans and frayed cotton shirts she had once favored.
“You’re warier,” Peggy said thoughtfully. “Jake’s responsible for that, I suppose. It must have come as a shock to find him here. I know everyone in town was certainly stunned when he came back. Then he and your grandfather got to be thick as thieves at the end, no pun intended, and no one knew what to make of it. To give the devil his due, Jake’s still the handsomest thing walking around Whispering Wind.
“Not that I’d trade my Johnny,” she added hurriedly. “No, indeed. Johnny’s a man you can rely on. No surprises. Jake Landers is the kind of man who can break a woman’s heart, but who would know that better than you?”
“That was a long time ago. Jake Landers means nothing to me now,” Megan said firmly. “Nothing.”
Peggy looked startled by her vehemence, then a slow grin spread across her face. “Oh, my, so that’s the way it is, is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Megan insisted, despite the heat she could feel climbing into her cheeks.
Peggy went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Of course, he’s a respected lawyer now. I suppose it could work. And Tex isn’t around to stand in your way—”
“Enough!” Megan interrupted. “I am not the least bit interested in Jake. That was over and done with a very long time ago. He stole Tex’s cattle, for heaven’s sake. How could I give two figs about a man who would betray my grandfather that way after Tex had brought him out here and given him work?”
Peggy regarded her oddly.
“What?” Megan asked.
“He didn’t do it,” Peggy said. “Surely you knew that.”
She sounded so confident, so sure of her facts that Megan was taken aback. “Jake didn’t steal the cattle? Are you sure?”
“Well, of course I am. I can’t believe you didn’t know that.” Peggy shook her head. “No, I take that back. It makes perfect sense. Tex certainly wouldn’t tell you. Not only was he a man who never cared for admitting a mistake, but he wouldn’t have wanted you running straight back to Jake. I always wondered if he didn’t have something to do with those charges being trumped up in the first place, but then I couldn’t imagine a man as upstanding as Tex O’Rourke doing such a low-down thing.”
“Peggy, what are you talking about?” Megan demanded, cutting into the rambling monologue.
“There were no stolen cattle,” Peggy said succinctly.
“Of course there were. Why else—”
“No, it was all some huge mistake. Or so they claimed once the dust settled. That’s why your grandfather paid for Jake to go to college and law school, to make up for midjudging him.”
“Tex paid for Jake’s education?” Megan repeated, stunned.
“Every penny.”
“And the cattle were never stolen.” She couldn’t seem to grasp the implications of that.
“Nope. They’d just wandered off to some other pasture, according to the story that came out eventually. They were grazing a few miles up the mountain, happy as could be.”
“He never said a word,” Megan whispered. “Not one word.”
“Who, Tex?”
“No. Jake. All these years he’s let me go on thinking the worst of him.”
“What did you expect? The man had his pride. You were supposed to know him better than anybody on earth and you thought he was a thief. Never even had a doubt about it, as far as I can recall. Is it any wonder he never said a word, after the way you let him down?”
The accusation stung, in part because of the truth of it, in part because it was coming from a woman who’d never been a particularly big fan of Jake’s back then. Now Peggy sounded like a blasted cheerleader. Obviously the tide had turned in Whispering Wind.
“I wonder if he’ll ever be able to forgive me,” Megan said, surprised and dismayed to find that it suddenly mattered. All those years of thinking of Jake as the bad guy were nothing more than wasted time and wasted regrets. It was just one more thing to hold against Tex. At this rate, by the time the funeral came along in the morning, Megan was going to be glad to see the sneaky old coot buried.
There was a light dusting of snow on the ground when Tex was finally laid to rest on the hill overlooking his spread of land. A mountain of flowers covered the grave, from the splashy, elaborate arrangements he would have loved to the simple bouquet of daisies that Jake had helped Tess pick out at the florist in town.
All during the service Tess had kept her hand tucked in his while huge, silent tears rolled down her cheeks. He had a feeling it was the only display of genuine emotion in the entire crowd of mourners. Most people were here because it was expected. Some had come out of curiosity, because they wanted to see the hot-shot from New York who’d once lived just down the road.
As for Meggie, she certainly didn’t appear all that broken up. Dry-eyed and coolly competent, she looked as if she were worried about nothing more than catering details, when he knew for a fact her heart had to be breaking. Still, five minutes after the service ended, she was back at the house, issuing orders to the temporary kitchen staff and putting the final touches on an elaborate buffet for the mourners. She did it all with a brisk efficiency that proved entertaining a crowd this size was second nature to her.
As he watched her place steaming platter after steaming platter on the table, Jake couldn’t help wondering what had happened to all the food the neighbors had dropped off in Pyrex dishes covered with foil. Probably not up to her fancy standards.
She stood by the table and frowned at some flaw Jake couldn’t detect. He wandered over to stand beside her.
“Something wrong?”
Megan barely glanced at him. “There’s something missing, but I can’t pinpoint what it is,” she said with evident frustration.
“Nobody’s going to notice if you’ve left off a saltshaker or a serving spoon. They’re coming by to show their support and their sympathy, not to see if Megan O’Rourke can throw a great party,” he reassured her, even though he’d been thinking exactly that about the mourners’ motives earlier.
When she would have protested, he tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Meggie, it’s not a test.”
For a moment tears swam in her eyes. She looked lost and surprisingly vulnerable. “I have to get it right,” she whispered. “For Tex.”
“Then you should have thrown a barbecue and been done with it. That was Tex’s style, Meggie. Not all this fancy silver.”
He’d meant it to be reassuring, but he knew instantly she took it the wrong way. Fire flashed in her eyes.
“Are you saying I’ve gotten this wrong, too? Well, who the hell are you to tell me what my grandfather would or wouldn’t like?” she exploded. “He was my grandfather, dammit. Just because you somehow managed to cozy up to him these last few months doesn’t mean you knew him better than me, Jake Landers. It doesn’t.”
With that she burst into tears and fled to the kitchen. Jake hadn’t intended to goad her into an outburst, but he couldn’t help being glad he’d broken through that tough act she’d been putting on for everyone’s benefit. He was about to follow her when the housekeeper put a hand on his arm.
“Let her go,” Mrs. Gomez said.
“I should have been more sensitive, I suppose,” he said, but without much real regret.
“No. She needed a good cry, but she won’t like you seeing it. You being the cause gives her an excuse she can handle right now. Thinking of Tex being dead and buried is still too much for her.”
“Is she going to be all right?” he asked, still staring worriedly after her.
“Oh, I imagine she’ll be just fine in time. Megan’s a strong, resilient woman. She’s had to be all her life. Her world’s a little topsy-turvy right now, but she’ll set it straight soon enough.”
It sounded kinder when Mrs. Gomez said it than it had when he’d sarcastically accused Megan of being adaptable. “Will she be okay with Tess?”
“As I said, she is resilient. She is also good-hearted. She will do what is right for the child.”
Still staring after Meggie, Jake sighed. “There have been a lot of times these last few months when I’ve regretted letting Tex talk me into drawing up that will of his. This is one of them.”
“If you hadn’t done it, someone else would have. Better that it was someone who knows Meggie, someone who cares about her and can see her through this.”
His gaze shot to hers. “I never said…”
She patted his cheek. “You didn’t have to. It is in your eyes. It always has been.” She gestured toward the table. “Now pile a plate up with some of this food and eat. You will need your strength for what’s to come, Sí?”
Jake had a feeling he could eat every last scrap on the buffet and still not be strong enough to deal with Meggie when she found out about Tex’s final devious scheme to get her back to Wyoming for good.
5
Tears streaming down her cheeks and, no doubt, destroying her carefully applied makeup, Megan retreated to the back steps, where she was pretty sure no one would find her. The fight with Jake had been absurd. She knew that. But it had set off a whole slew of insecurities and stirred up anger and resentment that she’d kept pretty well tucked away inside for the past couple of days.
The anger had been misdirected, of course. It was Tex she was furious with, not Jake. She was mad at him for being sneaky and conniving and, most of all, for being dead.
Now she’d never have the chance to tell him that she loved him, that she owed him or that she was sorry they’d fought. It was too late to take back what she’d said—not that she would have—about belonging in New York, not Wyoming, no matter how much it hurt him to hear it.
The cold air was drying the tears on her cheeks and setting up goose bumps when she heard a soft, shuffling sound and noticed Tess creeping up beside her. The girl’s face was streaked with dried tears and dirt, and her hair was a tangle of mussed curls and straw. Obviously she’d paid another visit to the barn. As pitiful as she appeared, she still shot a defiant look at Megan.
“Why are you crying?” Tess demanded, as if Megan had no right to shed tears over Tex.
“Same reason as you, I imagine.”
“You didn’t care about Tex,” Tess accused.
“Yes, I did,” Megan corrected mildly.
“Sure didn’t show it. I been here six months and this is the first I’ve seen of you.”
“Because I work in New York.”
“So? You make a lot of money, least that’s what Tex said. You could have come home, if you’d wanted to.”
Megan sighed. “Yes, I suppose I could have.”
Tess seemed startled by the quick admission. “How come you didn’t, then?”
“It’s complicated,” Megan said, for lack of a better explanation.
“Complicated how?” Tess asked, refusing to be put off.
Was this what life was going to be like from now on? Was she going to be asked tough questions by a kid, rather than a reporter? Megan struggled to find a plausible answer that would satisfy an eight-year-old. “Tex and I didn’t always see eye to eye about the choices I made.”
“Like what?”
“Like me living in New York.”
“You liked it better than here?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t get it,” Tess said. “This place is the best. There’s stuff to do and it’s real pretty. Why would you rather be in some big, ugly city, all crowded in?”
The characterization of New York had Tex’s stamp all over it. Megan had heard it often enough over the years. She supposed now was as good a time as any to contradict it, to get Tess excited about the prospect of moving east.
“Because my work is there,” she explained. “And because it’s filled with people from all over the world. It’s amazing, like no place else I’ve ever been. It’s bright and glitzy and energetic. There’s something going on every minute. There are museums and plays and wonderful restaurants. You’ll see.”
Tess regarded her suspiciously. “What do you mean, I’ll see?”
“When you come there to live with me.”
Tess backed up, her expression as horrified as if Megan had suggested taking her on a spaceship to an alien world. “I’m not coming there. No way. You can’t make me, either.”
Megan reached out a hand, but Tess moved farther away.
“This is where I live. It’s where I belong,” the girl all but shouted. “Tex said. He promised!”
Tess turned then and ran, leaving Megan shaken. She hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. Why hadn’t Tex prepared Tess? Foolish question. Because he hadn’t believed he was going to die. Then again, there was the will, naming her as Tess’s guardian. That proved he had known. He’d just chosen not to stir things up. He’d left that to Jake.
As if just thinking about him had conjured him up, Jake appeared at the doorway behind her, his expression filled with concern.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just peachy,” she said without looking up.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier.”
Megan started to lie, to protest that he wasn’t even capable of upsetting her, but she didn’t have the energy for the debate that would have inevitably followed. Instead, she just shrugged, as if it were of no consequence.
“People are beginning to leave,” he said. “They’d like to say goodbye, if you’re up to it.”
Because it was expected, she stood and brushed herself off, patted her cheeks to smooth out her makeup, and offered Jake a bright smile.
“Of course I’m up to it. The O’Rourkes don’t indulge in self-pity.”
“No one would think any less of you today if you did,” Jake noted.
“I would,” she muttered, and swept past him. In her business world, appearances mattered. In Wyoming, they mattered, too, though for very different reasons. Here it was important not to seem standoffish, to be the good neighbor that Tex had been, to show what O’Rourkes were made of.
Megan kept that smile plastered on her face for the next hour as she accepted condolences from dozens of people she’d never met before and dozens more she hadn’t seen in years.
When the last of them had left, she sank into a chair and breathed a sigh of relief. But she realized she’d done it a bit too soon when Jake settled into a chair opposite her. He’d shed the jacket of his black suit and loosened his tie, which gave him a rumpled, sexy look that would have been hard to resist if she hadn’t been so utterly exhausted.
“I thought you’d gone,” she said.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said wryly. “But we have business to take care of, unless you’d rather come into town tomorrow.”
She was sorely tempted to take him up on the delay, but that would be cowardly. “No,” she said finally. “Let’s just get it over with. I can see you won’t be happy until you’ve spilled whatever deep, dark secrets have been nagging at you ever since I got here.”
He pulled a sheaf of papers from a briefcase. “Want me to do a formal reading of the will or would you rather scan it yourself?”
She held out her hand for the papers. The document in a blue folder was the will, she concluded after a glance. An envelope held a letter from Tex. Her fingers trembled as she took out the pages and stared at his familiar scrawl.
“Darling girl,” it began, as his letters always had, even when he’d been mad at her. Tears stung her eyes. She wouldn’t break down now, not in front of Jake. Swallowing hard, she lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not so sure I can do this right now, after all.”
He took the papers. “Let me.” Putting the letter aside, he started with the will, reading through a lot of legal jargon that held no surprises. There were bequests for Mrs. Gomez and other employees, a trust fund for Tess, and the legal guardianship arrangement putting Megan in charge of Tess’s future.
“Is that it?” she asked when Jake paused.
“Not quite. On this last part, though, I think the letter spells out his wishes better than all the legalese that’s in the will. Maybe you’ll understand his reasoning better. If it’s too painful, I can read it aloud for you.”
His words, his tone alerted her that what was to come wasn’t going to thrill her. Perhaps she could do a better job of concealing her reaction if she read the letter to herself, after all.
“I’ll read it,” she said, taking the letter from Jake’s outstretched hand.
It began with a plea for her understanding about Tess, an apology of sorts by Tex’s standards.
I know I’m leaving you with a burden that, by rights, isn’t yours to shoulder, but I’m counting on you, girl. Be a mother to that child. Lord knows, she hasn’t had much of one up till now.
Megan glanced at Jake. “Do you know anything about Tess’s mother?”
“Her name—Contessa Florence Olson.”
“Contessa?”
“A name, not a title, I assure you,” he said wryly. “She goes by Flo. From what Tex told me she was waiting tables at a restaurant in Laramie when he met her about nine, maybe ten years back. They saw each other from time to time over a year or so. A matter of convenience, I believe he called it.”
So, Megan thought, it had begun about the time she’d gone away to college. Tex had been lonelier than she’d realized and had turned to a stranger for companionship. Funny, Megan had never thought of Tex as being lonely. He’d seemed like the most self-contained man she’d ever known.
“He had no idea she was pregnant?” Megan asked.
Jake shook his head. “Not until Flo appeared one day about six months ago, said she was tired of the hassle, that it was his turn to take responsibility for the kid. Off she went without a backward glance. She hasn’t been heard from since. I’ve checked and there’s no sign of her in Laramie. No one there has heard from her.”
“Poor Tess,” Megan murmured, knowing precisely how she must have felt the night she’d been left behind. Pity wasn’t what Tess needed, though. She needed a home, and Megan wasn’t the least bit convinced she could provide one. Tex, however, hadn’t given her much of a choice. She returned her attention to the letter.
When I’m gone, give the child some time right here on the ranch to adjust. Don’t go dragging her off to New York. Thanks to the way her mama dumped her here and ran off, Tess’s world has been turned upside down too much as it is. You should remember what that was like, Megan. It’ll be a bond between you. Seems to me you’ll be good for each other. You both need family whether you realize it or not. It’s been sorely lacking in both your lives. I regret that more than I can say, but I did the best I could by both of you.
So far, Tex’s request wasn’t much of a shocker. It made sense to stick around for a couple of weeks to give Tess a little time to get her feet back on the ground again. With Todd and Micah to handle things in New York, Megan could juggle her responsibilities and make that work.
Then she recalled Tess’s earlier reaction to the idea of going to New York, and she realized with dismay that her grandfather hadn’t intended this to be a temporary adjustment at all. He wanted Megan back here permanently. Jake had pretty much laid that out for her, too, when he’d said if she didn’t follow her grandfather’s wishes, the ranch would be up for grabs, and that he was first in line to claim it.
A terrible sinking sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as she read on.
Whatever it is you have to do to keep all those balls you’re juggling in the air can just as easily be done from here. That’s what faxes and computers were made for, leastways that’s what you’re always telling me. Put technology to good use. Make this one of those challenges you’re always talking about. You can make it work, Megan, if you want to badly enough.
Could she? Tex certainly had more faith in her than she had in herself, at least in this one area. Megan glanced back at the page and saw that there was more.
If you choose to go, if other arrangements need to be made for Tess, well, Jake knows what to do. You’ve made your own way. You don’t need anything I could leave you. I have to take care of the child, Meggie. I have to see to what’s best for her.
He’d phrased the letter in the form of a request, but it was evident from this final paragraph that it was a whole lot more than that. Megan was to stay on the ranch with Tess indefinitely, become the rancher he’d always wanted her to be—or lose everything. Her choice, or so he wanted it to seem.
“He expects me to stay here?” she demanded, staring at Jake for confirmation of her own interpretation of the letter.
“Yes.”
“Or?”
“The ranch will be sold—to me—and the money will be put in trust for Tess.”
“He can’t mean it,” she whispered, even though she knew that he had.
“He did.”
“But I can’t go on living here. I can’t just walk away from my career, everything that means anything to me.”
Jake shrugged. “You have a choice. Stay, or go and lose the ranch. Tess can stay on here with me.”
“That’s no choice. I don’t give a damn about the ranch. I never have.”
“Then walk away. You certainly don’t need his money or his land, right?”
“No,” Megan agreed. She didn’t need land or money, but she had always craved Tex’s approval, and she knew that even from the grave he’d withhold it if she didn’t at least try to do as he asked.
Besides, she thought, who else was there? Not Jake, no matter how calmly he had declared his willingness to step in. She wouldn’t have him doing what was by rights her duty. She—Lord help them both—was all Tess had, just as Tex had once been all Megan had had. She would manage just as Tex had. O’Rourkes always did what was expected of them. It had been her grandfather’s mantra.
“So, what’s it going to be, Meggie? Will you stay or go?”
“You’d just love it if I left, wouldn’t you? You’d stay here, do the noble thing, be a hero.”
“I’m not sure I’d be declared a hero, but your leaving would ease the way toward me getting this ranch.” He shot her a lazy grin. “But I can wait. Having you around again might be even more fascinating.”
That night was the longest of Megan’s life. She felt as alone and every bit as afraid as she had when her mother had abandoned her on Tex’s doorstep years before. The only thing that kept her from sinking into despair was knowing that, as bad as she felt, Tess probably felt worse—more frightened and even more alone.
Not that the child would show it. Tess had avoided her for most of the evening, and when Megan had offered to go upstairs with her and tuck her in, the girl had jeered, “I ain’t no baby,” and stalked off with shoulders squared proudly.
In the moments that followed, Megan had longed for someone she could confide in, but the only person who came to mind was Jake, and she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable and uncertain.
By the time it occurred to her that Peggy would have listened and probably offered sensible, down-to-earth advice, it was too late to call.
“Get a grip,” Megan muttered to herself when the illuminated dial on her bedside clock ticked on toward four o’clock.
She reminded herself that she ran an entire media conglomerate, that she had all sorts of resources at her disposal, that she was known worldwide for her creative solutions to all sorts of social dilemmas. Surely she could come up with something that fit the fix she was in.
By five she was up, dressed and in the kitchen searching for the coffee grinder. When she found nothing but a store brand of already ground, ordinary Colombian beans, she sighed heavily, put them into the automatic coffeemaker and waited to see what sort of pitiful brew emerged. She grimaced at the taste, but it was hot and loaded with caffeine, so it would do.
At five-thirty she reached for the phone and called her office. Todd picked up on the first ring.
“How’s it going back there?” she asked, suddenly unsure just how much she was ready to tell him about the upcoming upheaval in all their lives. No matter what her final decision, some things would inevitably change.
“We’re managing,” he assured her. “What about you?”
“Same here.”
“When will you be back?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” she began slowly.
“Megan, is there some sort of a problem?” he asked sympathetically. “I know losing Tex can’t be easy, despite the way you two argued all the time. We can cope around here for a couple of weeks if you need more time.”
She drew in a deep breath. “It may be a little longer than that.”
Todd fell silent. “How long?” he asked eventually.
“I’m not saying it’s going to happen. It’s certainly not what I want—”
“Spit it out, Megan. What’s the worst-case scenario?”
“Worst case? Unless I can find some other way to handle certain things, and believe me I am trying, I could be here permanently.”
“Permanently?” he echoed, as if the word were unfamiliar. “As in forever?”
“That’s the definition I’m most familiar with.”
“What the hell is going on out there?” Todd demanded. “Have you been taken captive or something?”
“The days of the Wild West are pretty much over,” Megan assured him, grinning despite herself.
“Then what?”
“It’s gotten complicated,” she said, settling for the same word she’d used with Tess.
Todd was no more satisfied with the response than Tess had been. “Complicated how? The estate and stuff?”
“You could say that.”
“Megan, why don’t you just spit it out?” he repeated with a rare touch of impatience. “I need to know what we’re up against here. Are you closing things down? Selling out?”
“Absolutely not!” It was more certainty than she’d displayed with Jake, but she realized she’d made her decision about that overnight.
“Then explain.”
“Tex’s legacy wasn’t exactly what I expected.”
“More money? Less? The ranch? What?”
“An eight-year-old daughter.”
That silenced her unflappable assistant.
“Todd?”
“I’m here. I’m just grappling with this. He left you a daughter?”
“That pretty much sums it up, except for the part where I have to stay here to raise her.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish to hell I were.”
“You with a kid,” he said with evident amazement. “It boggles the mind.”
“Doesn’t it just?” she agreed. “But that’s where I am. I’m still trying to figure out how to make all this work, so don’t go blabbing the news around and set off a panic, okay? My goal is to get back to New York, but that could take time and some legal tap dancing, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” he assured her. “Uh, Megan, just what are some of the options you’re considering? Commuting, maybe?”
“It’s on the list,” she agreed, though even she had to concede that as a practical matter it was seriously lacking. She wasn’t sure Todd was ready to hear another option she’d been toying with all night long. Envisioning Todd and the others—savvy, sophisticated New Yorkers one and all—trying to adapt to life in Wyoming had given her one of the only good laughs she’d had overnight. Last resort, she’d finally conceded. That was definitely her last resort.
“Commuting could work,” Todd said, as if eager to convince her. “There are faxes and e-mail. And just imagine all those frequent-flyer miles. Plus you’d be halfway to the West Coast, so trips to L.A. would be a breeze, too. Just say the word and I’ll start writing up a plan.”
“Not just yet. I still have some thinking to do. In the meantime, I’ll pick up a fax machine and a computer for Tex’s office here. I’ll call as soon as I can get everything set up. Now tell me what’s happening there. Everything on schedule?”
“Running like clockwork,” he assured her. “I shifted the taping schedule on the show till next week. If you can’t make that, we’ll adjust, despite Micah’s dire predictions that it’ll be a disaster. There are enough shows pretaped to hold us for a while. The lead story for the magazine’s been laid out. I can fax you the pages as soon as you say the word.”
“Terrific. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll talk to you later. Tell Micah I’ll check in with her before the end of the day, too.”
“Right.” He hesitated. “By the way, Megan, don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s practically the middle of the night there. Now that I know your brain does actually function in the morning,” he taunted, “I might start scheduling those a.m. meetings for eight.”
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, but she was chuckling as she hung up.
“Everything okay at your office, niña?” Mrs. Gomez asked from behind her.
Megan turned. “I didn’t hear you come in. I hope I didn’t wake you with all my commotion in here. I really appreciate you staying over till things settle down.”
“This is not a problem. I can stay as long as you like. My sister will take care of things at my house. As for waking me, we’re early risers here. You know that. Tess will be down any minute wanting breakfast.”
“And then what?” Megan asked, at a loss about what sort of routine the child had.
The housekeeper regarded her quizzically. “I don’t understand what you are asking.”
“Does she go to school?”
“Well, of course she does, though I thought it best that she not go this week because of Tex. She will return on Monday and things will settle back to normal.”
Megan wanted to scream that things would never be entirely normal again. She wanted to ask what could possibly be normal about Tex’s empty office or his empty place at the table. She wanted to ask what was normal about becoming an overnight mother to a child she hadn’t even known existed a few days ago.
“You will see, niña,” Mrs. Gomez consoled, as if she had read Megan’s mind.
Before Megan could argue, Tess wandered into the kitchen, gave Megan a distrustful look and sat down at the far end of the big oak table.
“I thought you’d be gone by now,” she said.
“Did you really?”
“I know what a busy life you have in New York,” she mocked. “You told me so yourself. Go, if you want. We don’t need you here.”
“Tess,” Mrs. Gomez scolded, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Be polite.”
Tess retreated into scowling silence. Megan didn’t have the strength or the ingenuity just then to try to coax her out of it. Besides, Tess’s distrust was justified. Megan hadn’t done much to prove she intended to stick it out in Wyoming. How could she when she didn’t know herself what decision she would finally reach? Maybe her actions today would help give them both some breathing room, though.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Megan said, pushing her chair back, “I have to go into town for a few things today. I’m going into Tex’s office to make a list.”
“A trip into town will do you good,” Mrs. Gomez agreed a little too enthusiastically. Then she added slyly, “Why not take Tess along?”
“No way,” Tess blurted, just as Megan was about to protest as well.
Mrs. Gomez went on as if their reactions had been more positive. “Tess can show you where things are. There are new stores since the last time you were here.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Megan conceded grudgingly. “Tess, would you like to come along?”
“Not really,” the girl grumbled, but at a sharp glance from the housekeeper, she shrugged. “Might as well. I ain’t got nothing else to do.”
“Working on your grammar might be one alternative,” Megan muttered, but she forced a smile. “Terrific. We’ll leave in an hour.”
But in an hour, there was no sign of Tess. If it had been up to Megan, she would have left without her, but Mrs. Gomez seemed to be determined to send the two of them off on some sort of bonding experience.
“She will be in the barn,” she told Megan. “There are kittens there. They seem to give her some comfort.”
Thinking of Tess turning to a litter of helpless kittens for consolation shamed Megan sufficiently that she walked to the barn in search of the girl. Sure enough, she was hunkered down with kittens scrambling all around her.
“They’re cute,” Megan said, drawn to them despite herself.
“I’m not giving them away,” Tess stated defiantly.
“Did I ask you to?”
“No, but you will.”
Megan imagined that was what Tex had insisted on. He’d always allowed a single cat to wander the barn in search of mice, but no more, and never one in the house as a pet. She had longed for one of her own, a warm ball of fluff who would curl up in her lap and sleep on her bed, but she had dared to ask only once. Tex’s curt refusal had kept her silent about wanting a pet from then on.
“You could bring them up to the house, if you like,” Megan suggested casually. “When they’re a little bigger and the mother won’t mind.”
Tess stared at her with wide eyes. “I could?”
The longing in her voice brought a lump to Megan’s throat. She nodded. “I don’t see why not.”
“Jake thought it might be okay, too, but I figured you’d never go for it.”
“I will on one condition,” Megan said.
Tess frowned. “I knew it! I knew there’d be a catch.”
“No catch, just a condition. I want one of the kittens for my own.”
Tess simply stared, clearly too shocked for words.
“Is it a deal?” Megan asked.
“Yeah!” Tess said excitedly, then caught herself. “I mean, I suppose that would be okay.”
Megan held back a grin. It wasn’t much, she concluded as they walked to the car, but it was a start. If only the next ten years or so would go as easily, maybe they would survive them.
6
Jake was at loose ends. With his biggest—okay, his only—client dead and buried, his workload was back to zip. That was exactly the way he wanted it, or so he’d thought. Rather than relaxing, maybe going off on a long horseback ride through the countryside, however, he was restless. He knew exactly where to lay the blame for that: Megan.
He’d pushed aside a lot of old resentments the past few days. He wanted to go on hating her for thinking the worst of him all those years ago. He wanted to steal Tex’s ranch right out from under her just to get even. But for some reason, he couldn’t work up much enthusiasm for the all-out war he’d once envisioned. It was probably because of that sad, lost look in her eyes. He’d always been a real sucker for vulnerability, especially in a woman normally as tough as Meggie.
The smart thing would be to steer clear of her. Even if she made a halfhearted attempt to comply with Tex’s wishes, it wouldn’t be long before she found some way around the terms of the will and hauled Tess back to New York with her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that was what she desperately wanted to do. He’d seen the wheels clicking away the instant she’d realized what Tex’s will meant.
Somehow Megan had turned into a city girl. Maybe she’d always been one, though how that had happened living in the middle of nowhere with Tex was beyond him.
As for Jake, his foray into the urban thing had been pure rebellion. He’d had something to prove to himself and to Tex and to all the judgmental people of Whispering Wind.
He’d been damned good at it for a time, but in the end he’d accepted the fact that he was happier right here in Whispering Wind. The pace was slow, the demands and expectations were few. And he had enough money now to enjoy the spectacular scenery at his leisure without anyone being able to label him that “no-account Landers kid.”
He glanced around his office, took stock of the fancy artwork on the walls, the bronze of a bucking bronco on his credenza, the thick carpeting and well-cushioned leather sofa and chairs, the wall of bookcases filled with leather-bound legal volumes, the state-of-the-art computer setup.
Unlike his home, which could best be described as a fixer-upper, he’d taken pleasure in designing his office to impress. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to hire a secretary or to solicit new clients. As restless as he felt this morning, he regretted that. Maybe if he’d had a few cases to sink his teeth into, Meggie’s image wouldn’t be popping into his head with such annoying regularity.
He heard a commotion on the street, then a howl of protest. He was on his feet and dashing for the door before it registered that that howl was distressingly familiar.
He found Tess outside, her expression indignant, the fist of the red-faced sheriff, Bryce Davis, clamped tightly over her shoulder. Lyle Perkins was standing in the doorway of his mama’s general store with a smug expression on his face.
Jake had been exactly where Tess was a few times himself, though Lyle had been a boy back then, but no less of a bully. Apparently he hadn’t outgrown the tendency. Jake’s hackles rose as he strode toward the group. He couldn’t wait to tangle with Lyle and Emma Perkins now that he was on equal footing with them in the community.
The instant Tess caught sight of Jake, she broke free and ran straight for him, then turned and shot a defiant look at the sheriff that would have withered a less confident man. She didn’t look at Lyle at all. Fortunately, Jake supposed, Bryce Davis wasn’t lacking in ego. Jake had tangled with the sheriff a time or two himself. It would take more than a fiery eight-year-old to intimidate Davis.
“Okay, what’s the problem here?” Jake asked, directing the question at the beefy sheriff, while ignoring Lyle.
“I need a lawyer,” Tess announced before Bryce could open his mouth. She slapped a quarter in Jake’s hand. “Here’s your retainer. It ain’t much, but it’s all I’ve got. I want to sue him for false arrest, police brutality and whatever else you can come up with.” She jerked a thumb toward Lyle. “Sue him while you’re at it.”
Jake hid a grin at her riled-up declaration. “You’ve been watching too much TV, kiddo. I don’t think you’re under arrest yet.”
Tess trembled with indignation. “Oh, yeah, try telling that to him. He was about to slap handcuffs on me and take me to the slammer.”
Jake figured there was another side to the story that he’d better hear before he leaped too trustingly to Tess’s defense. “Bryce?”
The sheriff didn’t mince words. “Aunt Emma caught her shoplifting. Lyle called me to get over here. He tried to hold her till I arrived, but she made a break for it. I nabbed her out here.”
Jake turned to Tess. “Is that so?”
Tess’s gaze met his and never flinched. “I didn’t take anything from the old bat’s store. All she’s got is a bunch of junk, anyway.” Once again she cast a disparaging look toward Lyle. “He probably put her up to it. He’s mean as a snake and everybody in town knows it.”
“Why, you little punk,” Lyle began, taking a step in Tess’s direction. He backed off at a sharp look from his cousin.
Since Jake had had his own run-ins with the paranoid shopkeeper and her spoiled son, he would have been inclined to believe Tess, even if she hadn’t just hired him to be on her side. Lyle had always been eager to make trouble for anyone weaker than he was. In those days, Jake’s only weakness had been his lack of anyone to stand by him. He’d settled more than one argument with Lyle with his fists. Fortunately, he had grown out of the habit.
“What’d she steal?” Jake asked the sheriff.
Bryce rocked back on his heels and looked vaguely uneasy. “That part’s a little hazy, what with the commotion of catching up to Tess before she got away.”
“Then I suggest we all go inside and get our facts straight,” Jake said, starting for the general store, where Mrs. Perkins waited in the doorway just behind her son, hands on ample hips.
“I might have known you’d take the girl’s side,” she said, scowling at Jake with a sour expression before turning an equally sour look on Bryce Davis. “I expected more of you, Sheriff, especially since you’re family.”
“Nobody’s taking sides, Aunt Emma,” Bryce said soothingly. “We just need to figure out what happened here. What did you see?”
“She was right over there,” Mrs. Perkins said, gesturing toward a case filled with school supplies. “I looked up and saw her hand go in her pocket. When it came out again, it was empty. She stole some of them pens, or maybe the stickers the kids like so much.”
“Did you see her with either pens or stickers in her hand?” Jake asked.
Bryce scowled at him. “I’ll ask the questions, son.”
Jake shrugged. “Be my guest, but I reserve the right to ask a few of my own if you don’t get at the truth in a hurry.”
“Well, Aunt Emma, did you see the girl with those items, or anything else, for that matter?”
“No, but I know what kind of mischief her kind gets into.”
The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stood up at the characterization, but he forced himself to deal with one thing at a time. Most important was clearing up whether or not Tess had shoplifted so much as a paper clip from the old bat.
“Tess, honey, did you ever pick up any of the things Mrs. Perkins mentioned?”
“Do I look like I play with stickers?” she shot back, giving the storekeeper a belligerent glare. “As for pens, Tex practically bought them by the case because he was always chomping off the end, once the doc told him he had to stop smoking cigars. I sure as heck don’t need hers.”
Jake hid a grin. “That’s not the issue,” he admonished. “Did you put anything into your pockets?”
“No. If you want to, you can check.” She shot a triumphant look at the shopkeeper, but when the sheriff stepped forward, she scowled. “Not you. Jake.”
“That okay with you, Bryce?”
“I suppose,” he said with obvious reluctance.
Jake emptied Tess’s pockets, turning them inside out for the sheriff’s benefit. He came up with a candy bar wrapper, a couple of pennies, some lint and a wilting daisy, which he suspected came from Tex’s funeral bouquet.
“Satisfied?” Tess demanded, eyeing them all belligerently.
“My apologies,” Bryce said, then looked toward Jake. “I had no choice. You know that, don’t you?”
“Can I sue him now?” Tess asked. “Her, too?”
“We’ll talk about it,” Jake said. When Tess appeared ready to balk, he added, “Over ice cream.”
She followed him docilely enough after that. When they were back on the sidewalk outside, he paused. “How’d you get into town, anyway? And why would you go into that store when you know how Mrs. Perkins is? She thinks every kid in town is out to rob her blind.”
“I came in with Megan. As for the other…” Tess shrugged. “I guess I just like to see her get herself all worked up watching me every second. That Lyle, though, he gives me the creeps.”
“Then I suggest you steer clear of the place. Now, where’s Megan?”
“Beats me. I pointed her in the direction of the new office-supply place, then took off. She didn’t seem real disappointed to see me go.”
“Did you arrange to meet her someplace?”
Tess shrugged. “I figured we’d both turn up at the car sooner or later.”
Jake sighed. Clearly Tess intended to make him work for his answers. She was volunteering nothing. “Where’d she park?” he asked next.
“A couple of blocks that way,” Tess conceded, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
“Let’s go see if she’s there.”
“I thought we were going for ice cream.”
“We will, after we find Megan and let her know you’re okay.”
“Like she’d care,” Tess muttered.
Obviously things weren’t going smoothly with the bonding. “Don’t you think maybe you should give her a break?” he asked.
“Why? She doesn’t give a rat’s behind about me.”
“Maybe because she hasn’t had a chance to get to know you, any more than you’ve taken the time to get to know her.”
“What’s the use? She’ll leave.”
To his very deep regret, Jake’s heart thudded at that. “Has she said that?”
“No, but she will. Everybody does.”
Jake gave up trying to argue the point. All the evidence in her young life was on her side. It would take time to prove that Meggie was different, that she had staying power. For Tess’s sake, he prayed to God he was right about that. She was already jaded enough without another disappointment.
“Any idea what she was getting at the office-supply place?” he asked.
Tess shot him a disgusted look. “Duh! Office supplies would be my guess.”
“You know, kid, one of these days somebody’s going to take exception to that smart mouth of yours.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Lyle Perkins for one. You did your darnedest to rile him back there.”
She grinned. “I know,” she said proudly. “Who else?”
“Me.”
“And then what?” she asked, clearly unintimidated. “You gonna lock me in my room?”
“No. I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, the way my mama used to do with me.”
Tess’s eyes widened. “She did that? Oh, gross.”
“Gross pretty much sums it up, but it was effective. I cleaned up my language. Think about it.”
Jake fell silent, as did Tess, though whether she was actually pondering his warning was anybody’s guess. She trailed along a step or two behind him, scuffing the toes of her sneakers on the sidewalk.
He spotted Megan up ahead, looking predictably more impatient than worried.
“There you are,” she said, when she noticed Tess behind him. “Where on earth have you been? I’ve been waiting here for a half hour at least.”
Tess shot an imploring look his way. Jake relented and left the encounter with the sheriff and Mrs. Perkins unmentioned. “Visiting with me,” he said. “We were going for ice cream and came to ask you to join us.”
“I was hoping to get back to the ranch so I could get all this equipment set up. I have work to do.”
Jake peered into the back of the sport utility vehicle. There were a half-dozen cartons, along with bags that appeared filled with reams of paper and other supplies. He took heart from the sheer amount and extravagance of the purchases.
“Was this stuff cheaper here than it would be in New York?” he inquired lazily.
“Of course, but that wasn’t the point.”
“What was?”
“I need a few things if I’m going to be able to get anything done while I’m here.”
He took a better look at the cartons. “A fax machine, a copier, a computer, a printer, a scanner. Yep, that ought to get you through the afternoon, all right.”
“I’m delighted you approve. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way.”
“I mind,” Tess protested. “Jake promised me ice cream, after what happened.”
Only when the words were out of her mouth did she realize her mistake. She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away a step.
“After what happened?” Megan asked. When Tess remained stubbornly silent, she turned to Jake. “Well?”
“Sorry. Attorney-client privilege.”
“She hired you to represent her? Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Now, Meggie, you know I can’t answer that.”
“Somebody had better answer me,” Megan declared, foot tapping and arms folded across her chest.
Amused by the display of temper, Jake glanced toward Tess. “I don’t think she’s crazy about being left out of the loop. How about we all go for ice cream and explain once she’s mellowed out on hot fudge?”
“You’re going to tell her no matter what, aren’t you?” Tess demanded. “Geez-oh-flip, nobody around here’s any good at all at keeping secrets. What about professional ethics?”
“I can only tell her if you say it’s okay,” Jake agreed. “It’s up to you.”
“But that’s the only way I’m getting ice cream, right?”
He nodded.
“Okay, fine. Blab your heart out.” She turned and marched off.
Jake turned to follow. Megan regarded him impatiently, but eventually fell into step beside him.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” she asked with weary resignation.
“On a scale of one to ten, compared to some of the other things you’ve heard in the past few days, this can’t be more than a two.”
“I’m so relieved.”
“Don’t worry, Meggie, I’ve handled it. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Why does that make me even more nervous?”
“Because you have control issues?” he suggested.
“Oh, go to hell,” she retorted, and snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t say another word to him until after the awestruck waitress had begged for an autograph, chattered endlessly about Megan’s TV show and then—finally—taken their orders. Sundaes with double hot fudge prevailed.
“Well?” Megan asked, turning her attention back to them. “You might as well get it over with. What happened earlier?”
After a glance at Tess, Jake gave her a quick overview of the encounter with Mrs. Perkins, Lyle and the sheriff.
“Why, that pompous old witch,” Megan declared, with every bit as much indignation as Tess had displayed earlier. “I’ll have a thing or two to say to her when we’re finished here. As for Lyle, I never liked him and it seems as if time hasn’t improved his judgment or his temper.”
Tess regarded her with wide-eyed amazement. “You’re going to take on Mrs. Perkins?”
“Well, of course I will,” Megan said emphatically. “Nobody messes with an O’Rourke.”
Jake settled back onto the bench beside her. “Go, girl,” he murmured, delighted by her reaction, by the quick rush to Tess’s defense.
There’d been a time when she’d been equally protective of him, when she’d stood defiantly beside him in the face of all sorts of accusations, a good many of them trumped up by the envious Lyle.
But when the most serious charge of all had been made, when he’d been accused of rustling Tex’s cattle, she’d failed him. He’d guessed that years of silent doubts had added up at last. Even with him understanding that, the pain of her turning on him had been worse than sitting in a jail cell in which he didn’t belong.
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Sherryl Woods
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: ALIVE, TEX O′ROURKE WAS A SNEAKY OLD COOT. NOW THAT HE′S DEAD, HE′S EVEN WORSE.Megan O′Rourke′s beloved grandfather had always been determined to lure her out of New York and back to the ranch in Whispering Wind, Wyoming, where he had raised her. And when Megan returns for Tex′s funeral, she realizes his will is going to make it impossible for her to refuse. Her «inheritance» is Tex′s daughter, Tess, an eight-year-old bundle of trouble Megan had never even known existed. Jake Landers has also come home to Whispering Wind.After leaving town years before under a cloud of suspicion, he′s returned to put down roots. And when he comes face-to-face with the woman who shared his troubled past, he hardly recognizes Megan. She′s become a driven, stressed-out powerhouse who runs a successful entertainment empire, but who′s forgotten what′s really important.He knows Megan is going to have to make some big decisions–about life and love, about where home really is. And he′s only too happy to help. Because he′s letting go of old grudges and beginning to recall some old dreams. And the best one begins with Megan.