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Do You Take This Enemy?
Sara Orwig


PROPOSE TO A RYDER?Gabriel Brant was breaking a generations-long feud by proposing to the lovely Ashley Ryder. He offered a deal that would benefit both - he'd get land to expand his cattle ranch and seven-months-pregnant Ashley would get a father for her baby. But he hadn't planned on Ashley's searing kisses shattering the walls around his heart!MARRY A BRANT? Ashley might have fantasized about Gabe when she was a girl, but she didn't trust the ambitious cowboy to keep his word once he grabbed the Ryder land. The way Gabe made her pulse race and her knees weak didn't mean a thing. Except that she found herself wishing their paper marriage would catch fire.












“Mr. Brant, Get Off My Ranch.”


Ashley didn’t bother to hide the fury in her voice. “You can get right back in your truck and go.”

“Hear me out, and I think you’ll let me stay. Give me ten minutes.”

Her eyes narrowed. Gabe was facing a beautiful woman who was poised and determined. And she was going to be trouble.

“Ten minutes is all you have,” Ashley said. “You’ve already wasted the first minute. Now what do you want?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Gabe took a deep breath. “I’m building up our ranch, and I want more land and more cattle. I can get the cattle, but I can’t get land in this neck of the woods.”

“If you think we would ever sell you one inch of this land, you’re dead wrong.”

“I know you don’t want to sell. I didn’t come to buy.”

Gabe realized he could gaze into her blue eyes indefinitely.

“What do you want, Mr. Brant?”

“I came to offer you a marriage of convenience.”




Do You Take This Enemy?

Sara Orwig








With many thanks to my editors, Joan Marlow Golan and Stephanie Maurer




SARA ORWIG


lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.




Contents


FOREWORD

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve




FOREWORD


Stallion Pass, Texas—so named according to the ancient legend in which an Apache warrior fell in love with a U.S. Cavalry captain’s daughter. When the captain learned about their love, he intended to force her to wed a Cavalry officer. The warrior and the maiden planned to run away and marry. The night the warrior came to get her, the cavalry killed him. His ghost became a white stallion, forever searching for the woman he loved. Heartbroken, the maiden ran away to a convent, where on moonlit nights she could see the white stallion running wild, but she didn’t know it was the ghost of her warrior. The white stallion still roams the area and, according to legend, will bring love to the person who tames him. Not far from Stallion Pass, in Piedras and Lago counties, there is a wild white stallion, running across the land owned by three Texas bachelors, Gabriel Brant, Josh Kellogg and Wyatt Sawyer. Is the white stallion of legend about to bring love into their lives?




One


Gabriel Brant’s stomach knotted as he drove along the hard-packed dirt road. He was tempted to make a U-turn and head home, but then he rounded a bend in the road and saw a sprawling house, two long stables, a corral, a guest house, a bunkhouse and several outbuildings. As his knowledgeable eye ran over the structures, his qualms vanished.

To his right was a fenced pasture filled with fine-looking horses. A sleek bay and a graceful sorrel, their ears cocked forward, paused to look at his pickup. Land spread out in all directions and his pulse jumped as he imagined all that prime land belonging to him. Still, as he drove, he was aware how much his father would have hated what he was doing. Father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather. He wasn’t too happy about aspects of it himself. The Ryders and the Brants had been feuding since the first generations of each family had settled in Texas.

Gabe was convinced that his relatives would understand his actions once they knew what the Brants would gain. “Keep telling yourself that,” he added aloud.

The possibilities—vastly more land, more water resources and a mother for his son—reassured him that he was doing the right thing. He crossed a narrow wooden bridge, speeding over Cotton Creek. The Creek was the reason the Brants and the Ryders had originally settled in this area. It was also the source of the old feud—water rights and border disputes. Gabe glanced at the winding narrow ribbon of murky water that gave life to both ranches. Today it was only inches wide, but Gabe knew it could go from a trickle to a flood.

As he approached the house and stables, a woman stepped from the porch into the May sunlight and strode down the wide graveled drive toward him, her cascade of midnight hair startling him. He hadn’t seen Ashley Ryder since she was a kid. Back then she had been skinny, gangling and had worn braces. He’d occasionally heard news about her—going to the University of Southern California, working in the advertising business in Chicago. Then, three months ago, she had suddenly moved home, and rumors had started flying around town.

She waited, facing his pickup as he slowed. His gaze ran over her swiftly. Tall for a woman, Ashley Ryder was wearing cutoffs and a blue cotton T-shirt that she filled out nicely. He noticed the bulge of her stomach and saw for himself that the rumors were true. Since she had returned home, she had stayed in seclusion on the Ryder ranch.

Aware that he was not only breaking the tradition of generations of Brants, but that he had tricked her into this meeting, Gabe climbed out and closed the pickup door, going to meet her and offering his hand. “Ashley, I’m Gabe Brant.”

Ashley’s blue eyes blazed with fire. For an instant, Gabe forgot family histories, his grief over his losses, his mission, the rumors, the future, everything. The world vanished, and he was swallowed in blue. It shocked him to discover that Ashley was a beautiful woman. All he could remember was that skinny kid with pigtails, years younger, all awkward arms and legs.

“Mr. Brant, get off my ranch,” she said, not bothering to hide the fury in her voice. “I have an appointment with a lawyer, one Prentice Bolton. Did you put him up to calling me so you could get on our land?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“It’s a wonder lightning isn’t striking,” she snapped.

“Yeah, it’s a wonder it isn’t,” Gabe replied for a far different reason. He was doubly shocked at himself and his reactions because it was the first time since losing Ella three years ago that he could remember even noticing a female beyond the most cursory awareness.

“You can get right back in your truck and go.”

“Hear me out, and I think you’ll let me stay. Give me ten minutes.”

“No! I don’t want to spend ten seconds with a Brant! Get off our property!”

“Look. I have a deal I want to make, and it’ll benefit you as much as me. You can’t be so closed-minded and bullheaded that you won’t give me ten minutes,” he said patiently.

Her eyes narrowed as she considered what he said. Still in shock, Gabe waited. He hadn’t thought of her as a person, just a nebulous nonentity—the only image that had ever come to mind was that scrawny teen she used to be. He was facing a beautiful woman who was poised and determined. And she was going to be trouble.

“Ten minutes is all you have.” Ashley stood in the driveway with her arms crossed.

He looked past her across thick, green grass to a porch with clay pots of bright yellow bougainvillea and planters of ivy hanging from the rafters. Chairs, rockers, lounges and a swing stood along the shady, inviting porch. He took a deep breath. “We’re just going to stand here and talk and not sit on the porch?”

“That’s right. I don’t want a Brant on my porch now or anytime.”

“Where’s your dad?” Gabe inquired.

“You’re lucky he isn’t home or he would be out here with a shotgun. I would have been myself if I’d known it was you coming up our road.”

“Frankly, I’m glad he’s not here. I can’t imagine telling mine that I’m here—but I won’t have to. He died almost two years ago.”

“You’ve already wasted the first minute. What’s on your mind?”

She was prickly as cactus, Gabe reflected, but easy to look at. Her skin was flawless. Ashley Ryder was probably half a foot shorter than he was. That made her almost six feet tall. As his gaze ran over her, he speculated that she must be about five months along.

He leaned against the front of his pickup and crossed his long legs.

“Your ranch is nice. Looked like I passed some fine horses when I drove in.”

“The finest. We both know that,” she said, sounding calmer and slightly pleased by his compliment. “Now what do you want?”

“You believe in getting right to the point, don’t you?” Usually he got along with pretty women, although he knew why she was acting so prickly.

“I certainly do when I want to get rid of someone. I think this is the first time in my life I’ve ever talked to a Brant and I don’t particularly like it.”

“You don’t know me,” he reminded her.

“I don’t have to know you. You’re a Brant. That’s enough,” she retorted.

Her legs were bare, smooth and shapely and it was an effort to keep his eyes away from them. Of all females to notice, this one was not only a generations-old enemy, but pregnant.

“There are a lot of rumors going around town about why you’re back home on the ranch.”

“I’m sure there are,” she said, looking away, but not before he glimpsed a glacial chill in her blue eyes. “That’s no deep secret, though, because there’s no hiding the reason.” She met his gaze with a lift of her chin. “I’m pregnant, single and I came home to take care of my dad and have my baby.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. I also heard you were very successful in Chicago, and you left a thriving advertising business behind.”

She nodded. “That’s right, but life changes. My values changed. Now the advertising world doesn’t seem as important as family. Do you ever get to the point, Mr. Brant?”

“I’m getting to it,” Gabe said, trying to keep the purpose of his visit firmly in mind, because Ashley was becoming more interesting than his proposition. Crossing his arms over his chest, he took a deep breath. “I’m building up our ranch and I want more land and more cattle. I can get the cattle, but I can’t get land in this neck of the woods.”

Her brows arched. “If you think we would ever sell you one inch of this land, you’re dead wrong. Never! Now—”

“I know you don’t want to sell. I didn’t come to buy.”

Her eyes narrowed. He realized he could gaze into her blue eyes indefinitely. Why did the woman have to be so damned pretty? He hadn’t considered that possibility.

“What do you want Mr. Brant?” she asked.

“First thing I want is for you to call me Gabe,” he said.

“Your time is running out.”

“All right. I’ve heard your father’s health isn’t as good as it used to be. And I’ve heard that before you came home from Chicago, your ranch had slipped into debt.”

“Maybe it has, but none of that has anything to do with you.”

“Maybe it does. You need help and your dad needs help. You can’t afford to go out and hire the help.”

“We’ll manage,” she said with a frosty tone and a lift of her chin that he had to admire. “That’s strictly a family problem.”

“I came to offer you a marriage of convenience. It would join our ranches and benefit both of us.”

“Marriage!” Her jaw dropped and her brows arched. She placed her hands on her hips and then to Gabe’s surprise she threw back her head and laughed. It was a peal of merry laughter that held no rancor and piqued his interest even more. She shook her head. “You’re loco! Get in your truck and go home, Mr. Brant. Thanks, but no thanks.”

She had been gorgeous with sparks in her eyes. Now, with laughter, she was irresistible. “Forget it,” she said, turning to walk away.

“Just listen to me,” he ordered, catching her lightly by the arm to turn her around. The moment he touched her an electric current rippled through him. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Stubborn!” she said, spinning around to glare at him, yet her tone of voice softened.

“Yeah. I feel like I’m talking to my grandma when she’s in one of her moods. You may be cutting yourself, your baby and your dad out of a deal here. Just listen a moment,” he commanded, assured that he had a viable proposition for her.

Ashley was breathing as hard as if she had run a race, but she was silent. He was as aware of his hand on her arm as if he had touched a burning brand, and he stood close enough to catch a tempting, flowery scent. As their gazes locked, he could feel the sparks snapping between them and suddenly, he wondered if her ragged breathing was for a reason other than anger. Was the lady responding to him when he looked into her eyes? Fascinated by what was happening between them, he let the silence lengthen.

He had come over here to give her a good business offer, but his interest had shifted from her ranch to her. How long had it been since a woman had made him feel anything? Since the loss of Ella, and then both of his parents, he had been buried in grief. Yet here was this wild, volatile chemistry that had broken through grief—a chemistry that had ignited the moment he looked into Ashley’s eyes. He suspected she was feeling it, too.

“Listen to me,” he repeated in a husky voice, and she merely nodded. “I can rebuild this ranch. It’ll help your dad, yet he’ll still be a big part of it because he knows horses and I don’t. My money will be backing you and with both ranches joined, we’ll have one of the most successful spreads in the Southwest.”

“Mr. Brant, you’re plenty good-looking. Find yourself another woman. I’m sure you can,” she said, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“It isn’t your body I want.”

“You’re not getting your hands on this land.”

“Just remember, mine would be yours, too. I want to join them. Running something this large has to be hard on your dad and on you as well.”

As she looked away, a flush brought pink to her cheeks. When he saw her fists were clenched, he realized that he had struck a nerve.

“Look, we can help each other,” he insisted. “You have room for me to run cattle.”

“I’ve always heard that you’re driven with ambition,” she said, looking him in the eye again.

“Damn straight, I’m ambitious.”

She tapped her toe on the ground and crossed her arms in front of herself, shaking her finger in the direction of his truck. “Get in your pickup and get off our land. Your ten minutes are up. I’m not marrying a Brant. No way in hell. And you’re not getting your hands on our ranch.”

They stared at each other, and he knew he was running out of time.

“I can end all of the Triple R’s debt and with no demands on you—” he began.

She tossed her head and a curtain of silky black hair swung across her shoulders. “Get off our land. You’re trespassing.”

“I’ll go, but you think about it. For both of us, it would be a means to an end.”

He moved toward the door of his pickup. “You could protect yourself with a prenuptial agreement. You have lawyers.” He opened the door of his pickup and paused, his gaze raking over her again.

“How far along are you? Five months?”

“Seven months.”

“Seven! Then, Ashley, you better think about my offer,” he said, liking the way it felt to call her by her first name. “You don’t have much time left to make choices. You’ll be so busy when your baby comes, you won’t have time for this ranch. A paper marriage would take a huge burden from your father. Life and family are more important than land or money,” he added harshly. “I can promise you that.”

While her eyes narrowed, he climbed into his pickup and started the motor, backing and turning, driving slowly so he wouldn’t stir a cloud of dust in her face. He looked into his rearview mirror. Ashley Ryder stood with her hands on her hips, still watching him. Even pregnant, she was one good-looking woman.

Mule-stubborn, she was trouble, yet she still had him attracted. She was gutsy, quick-witted and he suspected she was tough, willing to give up her plans and successful career in advertising to come home to help her father—all admirable enough qualities to offset stubbornness.

The Ryders were trouble, but they’d never been dumb. They were smart people, and he knew she had heard what he’d said, and she would think about it. For a first visit, it could have gone much worse.

If they joined their ranches, he could buy more cattle and expand. He knew for a fact that the Ryders’ horses weren’t taking up all the land they owned. Their ranch was as big as his, and it had been talk around the county for some time now about how Quinn Ryder had cut back and was in poor health, and the ranch was failing. The old man needed help desperately, yet couldn’t afford to hire it, and Ashley was going to be too busy to take charge completely. Quinn Ryder’s brothers had their own problems that kept them from stepping in. Ashley was seven months along. That didn’t leave a lot of time if they wanted to be married before the baby was born.

Gabe was lost in thought about Ashley and the future until he rounded a bend on his Circle B ranch and saw the two ranch houses ahead. The main road led to the old family home, a sprawling house that had been added to through generations. A branch of the road led to the house he had built for Ella.

Grief swamped him, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter, his throat closing up. He and his son Julian now lived in the family house. Memories tore him up in his home, so he had moved, but it made little difference because the memories still hurt. First he’d lost Ella, then two years ago, both his parents. Too many losses too close together.

He took a deep breath and tried to think about the Ryders and what he had just done in proposing to Ashley.

He had calculated how much land he would gain down to the last acre and he had flown his own plane over the Triple R, studying it carefully. It was the only way he could expand. Each of his neighbors was a descendant of settlers who had acquired the land at statehood or earlier, and no one around here was willing to sell. As far as he could see, Ashley was his best hope. She and her dad needed what he was offering. Gabe hoped she was mulling over his offer right now.



Ashley stood watching the dust hang in the road behind Gabriel Brant’s red pickup. She shook with anger. There would be a next time. The Brants didn’t give up on anything they set their mind to. The two families were still fighting over Cotton Creek, only now the battles were in lawyers’ offices instead of with fists.

Marry him! Paper marriage, sham marriage, it wouldn’t matter. Anything that tied a Ryder to a Brant was impossible. For four generations—five counting hers and Gabe’s—the Ryders and the Brants had fought over water rights. They had fought over damming up Cotton Creek, over the boundaries of their two ranches where Cotton Creek angled between the two and was the boundary line—a boundary line that kept shifting as the creek had shifted and changed. Now this miserable Brant wanted to break all traditions.

She thought of the generations of hate, years of silence. Even in her childhood, she could remember her father’s rage at finding dead horses and overhearing him talk to Gus, their foreman, about killing cattle. When old Thomas, Gabriel Brant’s father, had run for the Texas senate, her dad had done everything he could to defeat him, including making very generous donations to Thomas’s opponent. Yet, in spite of her father’s efforts, Thomas Brant had won, giving the Brants even more power.

Ashley had always heard that Thomas Brant was ruthlessly ambitious. The son obviously took after his father.

She was furious that Gabriel Brant had tricked her into meeting with him and angry with herself because the moment she had laid eyes on him her pulse had jumped wildly. When she was younger, she had always thought he was the most handsome boy in Piedras and Lago counties—a deep secret she had never admitted to anyone except Becky Conners, her best friend growing up. Ashley shook her head. She didn’t want to discover that Gabriel Brant had turned into a sexy, handsome hunk who could make her short of breath. She should have outgrown all that when she got braces off her teeth and went away to college.

But in all of Chicago, she had never met a man who made her breathing alter and her pulse jump like that. Not even Lars Moffet, and she had been ready to marry him. She was still seeing Gabriel Brant—tall, long-legged, dressed in a tight-fitting T-shirt that revealed abundant muscles. His dark-brown, thickly lashed bedroom eyes were sinful. His ruggedly handsome features were devilish. And his ambition was pure Brant.

Frustrated, Ashley picked up a pebble and threw it down the road as hard as she could, wishing it was a big rock and she could lob it through the back window of Gabriel Brant’s pickup.

She turned to walk to the house, but she knew she had to get control over her emotions before she returned indoors. Mrs. Farrin, their cook, had been with them since Ashley was three years old. She wasn’t ready to discuss Gabe’s proposition with Mrs. Farrin.

Gabriel Brant had called her stubborn. “You’re a greedy snake, Gabriel Brant!”

What angered and hurt the most, though, was the truth in what he said. Her dad had had a heart attack. He took medication for his blood pressure. They had had a run of sick horses and she knew that her dad wasn’t able to handle the ranch the way he used to. She had come home to help, but she couldn’t do all that needed to be done. She wasn’t a horse trainer, either. She was spending sleepless nights trying to figure out what to do because every month they were running deeper into debt and every month her father was working too hard.

Constantly she ran through possibilities, but never came up with a good solution. She had two uncles who ranched, but Uncle Dusty’s health was worse than her father’s and he had his hands full trying to keep his ranch going. Her other ranching uncle, Colin, had had a run of bad luck: his barn and house had burnt and he’d carried no insurance. Cal, the youngest brother, a dentist in San Antonio, had helped all of his older brothers, but there was just so much he could do and it wasn’t enough when there were three who needed help.

She inhaled and rubbed her hand across her brow. Gabe Brant’s words hurt because she knew they were true.

Life and family were more important than land. Her father’s life meant more than the ranch. She kicked a clod of dirt, hating that she had to give Gabe’s words some serious thought.

She shook her head. It was simply a ploy by a Brant to get the Ryder ranch. Forget it and forget Gabe Brant. But she had never been able to do that in her life. She thought she had, giving him little thought when she’d lived in Chicago. Yet the moment he had stepped out of his pickup, her pulse had jumped. And when he had touched her, every nerve had quivered. She could still hear exactly how his voice had sounded when he had spoken her name.

“What’s the matter with me?” she snapped, speaking aloud. She lifted her hair off her neck. Even though it was only May, it was hot outside. On the porch she turned to look at the rolling land that was the Triple R. Tall live oaks sent long, graceful limbs out over the yard, giving much-needed shade in the hot afternoon. Beyond the barn and outbuildings were green pastures dotted by more tall oaks. The land was good. It was home to her, and she would fight to her last breath for it, but her dad’s life was more important. Then the memory of sexy dark-brown eyes mocked her and she took a deep breath. Why did she still respond to him? How could he turn her insides to jelly with just a look?

She crossed the porch and went into the kitchen that smelled of baking bread. A ceiling fan turned slowly above glass-fronted cabinets. A pitcher of tea sat on the walnut pedestal table and preparations for supper were spread on the white counter.

A stout, gray-haired woman stood by the kitchen sink. She turned to look at Ashley. “Are you all right?” she asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.

“Yes, it’s just hot out,” Ashley replied, hurrying across the kitchen. “I’ll be in my room.”

“You didn’t let that lawyer fellow get very far. I fixed a pitcher of tea because I thought you’d at least let him come sit on the porch to talk. You didn’t let him come near the house.”

“Nope. I didn’t want him wasting my time.” Ashley hurried out of the room. She’d tell Mrs. Farrin soon enough, but she had to tell her father first. And if Gabe Brant had come closer to the house, Mrs. Farrin would have recognized him.

Ashley thought about the blood-pressure medication her father took. She didn’t want to get him all worked up, but she knew she had to tell him about Gabe’s proposal, and when she did, he was going to raise hell.



That night, after Ashley and her father had finished supper and retired to the family room, her father sat reading a magazine. Seated near him on a leather sofa, she glanced around the room with its throw rugs and polished plank floor, Western art and shelves of books lining the walls. The quiet they were enjoying was about to be shattered—it was time to tell her father the news.

“Dad, I got a call yesterday from Prentice Bolton, a lawyer in San Antonio.”

Quinn Ryder lowered his magazine and looked at her over his half glasses. Brown-eyed and tall, Quinn was raw-boned, with thick black hair streaked with gray. He removed his glasses.

“That outfit represents the Brants.” Her father frowned. “Why would he call you?”

“He said he wanted to come out and talk to me about a business proposition. If I tell you, will you keep calm?”

“Why don’t you think I’ll keep calm?” her father demanded.

“I have to tell you something you’re not going to like. I don’t want your blood pressure going up,” she said. His shirt hung on his frame because of the weight he had lost. It hurt to see her father ailing; he had always been robust, a strapping giant to her when she had been a child.

“I’m going to have high blood pressure if you don’t go ahead and tell me.”

“The lawyer wasn’t the one who came out here. He was just a decoy, calling for someone else.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed and he waited. “Dad, it was Gabriel Brant,” she said.

Her father’s ruddy face drained of color and he stood. “Gabriel Brant was on our land?”

“Yes, he was. Now sit down, or I won’t tell you another word. I don’t want your blood pressure jumping.”

“Dammit, Ashley, he knows better than to set foot on our place. That son of a bitch on our land!”

“Dad, just keep calm. You don’t want to have a stroke because of a Brant.”

“I’m not going to have a stroke. What in blazes did he want? I know he wanted something and it must be a dilly.” Quinn told his daughter.

“He wants me to marry him.”

The explosion she expected came; Quinn stormed around the room, swearing and waving his hands. She let him rant for a moment and then stepped in front of him.

“Now listen to the rest. You know a Brant is not in love with a Ryder, much less a woman he’s never talked to before.”

“He wants the ranch. He wants this ranch, dammit!”

“He wants a paper marriage—a marriage in name only,” she explained. “He can run cattle on our ranch and expand a little because he knows we don’t use all our land.”

“The only way he can know that is if he’s been on our property. I will shoot that greedy son of a bitch if I catch him trespassing!”

“He could know that without getting on our property,” she said calmly, trying to stay calm herself to quiet her father. “Everyone in town knows you’ve had health problems.”

“Why in thunderation did he ever think you’d agree? Damn, he’s ruthless and greedy. There’s nothing we’d get out of it.” Quinn grumbled.

“According to him there is. We’d get his help running this ranch and his money backing it.”

Her father clenched his fists, his face growing more red. “Dammit. He just wants our land.”

“But his would be ours as much as ours would be his,” she argued.

Quinn shot her a searching look. Shutting his mouth, he went to the mantel to prop his elbow on it, and she saw that he was actually thinking about Gabriel Brant’s proposition. Her spirits sank a little because she had had to think about it herself.

“There have to be a dozen other guys around here who would marry you and work with me on the ranch.”

“No one has called and asked me out,” she answered dryly. “At least going out with Gabriel Brant might be interesting.”

“How do you know that? You don’t know the guy at all.”

“Of course, I do. I’ve been around him when we were growing up. I saw him at parties and football games. He was older, but he was always in the middle of things and sort of the life-of-the-party type,” she said. Back then she had thought he was incredibly sexy and handsome and wished he would notice her; wished that he was anything except a Brant.

Quinn turned to study her. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?”

“I have to think about it. It holds possibilities.”

“Hellfire. The guy’s a shark like his dad. He owns ranches all over Texas. He’s land-hungry and you can’t trust a Brant.”

“Maybe, but the marriage would still give us the same rights with his ranch that he would have with ours.” She gazed into the distance and frowned. “I thought he was married.”

“He was, but she died about three years ago. He’s really thrown himself into ranching since then. If I remember right, I think he has a little boy.” Quinn ran his hand over his head.

“A son?”

“Now don’t go getting soft because he has a motherless child. I know what a pushover you are about kids. Honey, if you’re thinking about his proposal, you’re doing it for me. Don’t.”

“I’m doing it for you, for me, for the baby, for the ranch. It’s for all of us,” she said, walking over to give her father a hug. He wrapped his arms around her to hug her in return. She could feel his shoulder bones and thought again about the weight he had lost.

“I love you, Ashley. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, giving him a squeeze and moving away. She sat on the sofa. “Dad, Gabe’s offer has possibilities.”

Quinn shook his head. “I can’t imagine—a Ryder marrying a Brant.” Quinn rested an elbow on the mantel and stared into space. “You just think you’ll always have your health and then one day you don’t.”

“Please don’t worry. I promise that I won’t do anything I don’t really want to,” she said, leaning back and wondering if she was trying to convince herself.

Ashley discussed it until he announced that he was going to bed. After he was gone, she paced the room. Her father was frail and the burden of the ranch was stress in his life that he didn’t need. The ranch was losing money daily—something that hadn’t ever happened in her lifetime.

Was what Gabriel Brant proposed absolutely unthinkable? It would be a paper arrangement. She ran her hand across her head. She couldn’t trust a Brant. Old hurts plagued her as she remembered how she had trusted Lars, a man she had thought she had known and loved. He had broken her trust and she had learned a bitter lesson.

An hour later, Ashley went to bed, but she tossed and turned and didn’t sleep well. She kept seeing Gabriel Brant, legs crossed, leaning back against his pickup. And she kept remembering how, when she had met his dark eyes, her pulse had raced.

Finally she fell asleep but overslept the next morning. When she went to the kitchen, her father had already gone. Ashley fixed her breakfast and got out paint samples to pick colors for the nursery.

Fifteen minutes later, she realized her mind wasn’t on colors. She was thinking about Gabriel Brant’s proposition. He had a child. A son. She wondered about the little boy who had lost his mother when he was so young. Yet the marriage would be a business arrangement and nothing more. Gabe wouldn’t make any demands on her. No emotions would be involved. Lawyers could protect her. She threw up her hands. How could such an arrangement work?

The phone rang and she crossed the room to pick it up.

“Ashley?” came a deep, masculine voice. “This is Gabe Brant. I’d like to see you again.”




Two


“I’d like to see you right away. I’ll drive to your place. How’s an hour from now?” Gabe asked.

Ashley closed her eyes and ran her fingers across her brow.

“Good. I’ll be there,” he announced before she’d had time to answer. He hung up, and she was left with a dial tone.

“You don’t believe in saying goodbye, do you?” She hadn’t said much more than hello. She slammed down the receiver, glanced at her watch and went to her room to change her clothes. Then she became annoyed with herself for changing just because Gabriel Brant was coming.

Yesterday she’d had an intense, prickly awareness of him. She ran her fingers through her hair, and studied herself in the mirror. She was in a T-shirt, a denim jumper and sneakers. So be it. She combed her hair into a ponytail and went downstairs. Forty minutes later, she left the house and climbed into one of the ranch pickups and headed toward the road.

Alongside the county road in the shade of a tall cottonwood, she parked by the mailbox, retrieved their mail and climbed onto a fender to sit and wait for him.

Right on time she saw his red pickup coming up the highway. Sliding off the fender, she watched as he slowed. To her surprise, she could see a small boy in the back seat. Gabe parked and climbed out. He wore a T-shirt and jeans. His thick, slightly wavy brown hair was neatly trimmed. Her pulse jumped at the sight of him. Brant or not, the man was good-looking. Her gaze slid past him and she watched the little boy and jump out of the truck to take his dad’s hand. The child stopped in his tracks and studied her with large, dark-brown eyes that were as thickly lashed as his father’s.

“Ashley, meet my son Julian.”

Julian held out his small hand, and Ashley was instantly won over. The child was adorable, and she took his hand lightly. “I’m glad to meet you. How old are you, Julian?”

“Four,” he answered promptly, holding up four fingers.

“You’re a very big boy,” she said, and he grinned.

“I wanted you two to meet,” Gabe said quietly. “Kiddo,” Gabe continued, picking Julian up. “You’ve got your cars in the back of the truck. Will you play with them a few minutes while I talk to Miss Ryder?”

Julian nodded.

Ashley waited while Gabe set his son in the back of the pickup and Julian seemed to lose interest in the adults and began to play with his toys. Gabe walked back to talk to her.

As he neared, his brown eyes held her. What caused all this electricity when she was within four feet of him? It surely wasn’t from the schoolgirl crush she’d once had.

He stopped only a few feet away and hooked his hands into his pockets.

“You cheated,” she said, too aware that her voice was breathless.

“How’s that?” he asked while his brows arched with curiosity.

“Bringing your son. He’s adorable.”

Something sparked in Gabe’s eyes, and he inhaled deeply. “You don’t know that. You only said hello. He could be a little terror.”

“Little children aren’t terrors,” she replied promptly.

“When have you been around any?”

“My younger cousins. I volunteered to teach Sunday school and to coach soccer when I was in Chicago. I like kids.”

“You’re making me like my proposition even more,” he said, moving closer and reaching out to touch her arm lightly. “If you’re seven months along, do you know what you’re having?”

“Yes. A girl.”

“Ahh. That’s nice. Boy or girl—it’s great. Except I know a little more about boys. But I can learn,” he said, smiling at her, and she shook her head.

“You’re irrepressible,” she said.

“I’m surprised that you wanted to meet here, where any neighbor who passes will see a Brant talking to a Ryder and start all kinds of rumors.”

Electrified by his touch, she stepped back slightly.

His brow arched, and he gave her a look that made her whole body tingle. “It bothers you to stand close to me?”

“I’m not accustomed to being around Brants,” she said, knowing it was a ridiculous answer, but she didn’t want to admit how much he disturbed her.

He reached out again to stroke her arm lightly with his finger. “This is an interesting surprise, Ashley,” he said softly, his voice growing husky. “We have some kind of chemistry between us.”

His dark eyes were full of curiosity, and she flushed. “It doesn’t outweigh all our family history of feuding,” she replied.

A faint smile curved one corner of his mouth and his long-lashed, bedroom eyes snapped with interest. “I disagree. I think it snuffs out any idea of feuding with you. No, when I get around you, feuding is not what I want to do,” he drawled in a sexy tone that made her pulse jump another notch.

She leaned closer to him. “You know what I think? I think you’re trying to sweet-talk me into this marriage you’re proposing. You may forget about the Brant-Ryder history, but I can’t.”

“Now I find that a real challenge—to see if I can make you forget about the feud,” he said softly.

She knew he was flirting, and, while it was exciting, at the same time she was suspicious of his motives. There was too much at stake, and in five generations, no Ryder had ever trusted a Brant.

“It’s absolutely impossible for me to forget.”

“We’ll see,” he said with amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you think about what I said?”

“I’m thinking about it.” She would never admit that she couldn’t put him or his proposal out of her thoughts.

“Good.” His gaze swept over her. “You sure have changed since high school.”

“You didn’t know me in high school,” she said. “You’d already gone off to college.”

“I was home at a couple of parties—I saw you around town. We just didn’t speak. You were a skinny kid with braces—you’ve grown up into a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, but you can save the compliments.”

“Did you tell your dad about my proposal?”

She was looking into dark eyes that nailed her with their forcefulness. He was too close, too masculine, too sinfully handsome. She could detect his aftershave, and facing him at this range was more disturbing than ever.

“Yes, I did. He was furious and appalled.”

“But you know I have a proposition that’s worth considering, don’t you? Admit the truth now.”

“Yes, I do,” she snapped.

“Go to dinner with me tomorrow night so we can discuss marriage.”

“I don’t want to go out to dinner and start all kinds of wild rumors. This whole thing is impossible,” she replied, feeling butterflies at the thought of a date with him. She clamped her lips closed, turning to reach for her pickup door.

His hand shot out and held the door closed. “Now just calm down and let’s talk a minute.” His breath blew against her nape and he stood so close behind her that she could feel the heat of his body. As she looked at the tanned wrist and hand that held her door closed, her pulse skittered.

She turned around. “Move away.”

He studied her, and her heart drummed. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she couldn’t even breathe. “Move back and give me room,” she said, placing her hand on his chest to push lightly. It was a tactical error because the instant she touched his muscled chest, tingles raced through her and the curiosity in his eyes shifted to blatant desire. She yanked her hand away.

“My, oh my, this is a surprise,” he drawled softly. “You and I have some wild attraction going here.”

“It’s purely physical,” she said, but all force had gone out of her voice. He still stood too close to her, and she hoped he couldn’t hear her thudding heart.

“Might be purely physical, but it’s damned powerful. Too powerful to ignore, I can tell you that.” He touched her hair, pulling free the ribbon that held it behind her neck. “You grew up to be a real beauty.”

“Thank you, but I don’t believe your compliments are sincere.”

Again, she saw that flash of amusement in his expression. To her relief he stepped to one side, leaning a shoulder against her pickup, looking relaxed, sexy and curious.

“Let’s go to dinner and talk about my proposal,” he suggested. “We can go to San Antonio. It’s a big enough city that we can find a spot where no one will know us.”

“This is so absurd. I don’t know why I’m listening to you.”

“Because you’re intelligent and you know I’m making a good offer. You’re listening because when we get near each other, both of us almost go up in flames. Which surprises me as much as it does you.”

“Will you stop!”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “I have all sorts of reasons why this would benefit you. I just want a chance to present my case. And don’t tell me a Ryder can’t exist in proximity to a Brant. What do you think goes on at rodeos and cattle sales? I’ve rubbed elbows with your kin, including your dad. We don’t like it, but we do it. We can talk without bringing down the wrath of our kinfolk. Now, how about tomorrow night?”

She debated only a few seconds because she was intrigued and she knew there was a possibility of solving a lot of problems for her father. “Yes, I’ll go with you to dinner.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up around seven. Will your father let me set foot on the place?”

“Yes, if I want you to.”

“So I don’t have to wear my gun?”

“Don’t you dare be packing!” she gasped.

“Sorry. I couldn’t keep from teasing you,” he said, touching her cheek while his dark eyes twinkled. “I’ll be there in my best suit at seven, and we’ll go to San Antonio so we won’t see anyone we know. That suits me fine, too.”

“Have you ever not gotten your way?”

“Yes,” he replied. She heard the harsh note in his voice while his expression became solemn.

“Well, what happened? That must have been a dilly.”

“When my wife got pneumonia and died. When my folks died.”

“Your wife and your parents?” She could hear the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah. See you at seven at your house.” He turned away and in long strides went around his pickup.

“Gabe,” she said, hurrying after him, too aware of using his first name. “Let me tell Julian goodbye.” She moved past Gabe, going to the back of the pickup.

“Wow, you have a lot of cars,” she said, leaning over the side of the pickup. “Which one is your favorite?”

Julian held up a blue one. As she talked to him about his cars, she felt Gabe standing nearby, watching and listening to her. After a few minutes, she smiled at Julian.

“I have to go now, Julian. It was nice to meet you.”

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you,” he said politely and she turned to look at Gabe.

“You’ve taught him well,” she told him.

“I try. See you tomorrow night.”

“Who takes care of Julian?”

“I have a nanny,” he replied.

She nodded and walked away, hearing him talk to his son. When she climbed into her pickup, Julian was buckled in again and Gabe had started the engine. Making a sweeping turn, he drove away while she watched. She was still surprised—tomorrow night she had a dinner date with Gabe Brant.

The man ran roughshod over all her arguments. Marry him—it would be like getting a dictator in her life. They were strangers and already he was getting his way. And his flirting struck nerves. There was a chemistry between them. She was surprised he felt it, but she had felt it around him all her life.

She threw up her hands. She had to tell Mrs. Farrin, which would be bad, but telling her father about her dinner date would be much worse.



That night as they ate thick steaks, Ashley set down her fork and braced for a storm. “Dad, I’m going out tomorrow night with Gabe Brant.”

“Dammit, Ashley,” Quinn snapped, dropping his fork and frowning. “Why? You can’t consider a sham marriage or any kind of marriage to that man.”

“I think I should hear his arguments,” she said quietly, torn between agreeing with her father and trying to do what was best for everyone.

“You’re a grown woman now and a smart one, but you shouldn’t be going out with a Brant.”

“It’s just a dinner date.”

“I’ve heard talk from Gus and the men. He lost his wife last year and he lost both his parents the year before that. Now all he has on his mind is expanding his ranch—with our land!”

“What happened to his parents?” Ashley asked, curious, yet wanting to avoid asking Gabe.

“Old Thomas died of a heart attack, probably because he was meaner than sin. Brant’s mother had cancer, I think. But don’t go feeling sorry for the man. They say he’s hard as granite. I’m sure he’s like his dad.” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s he taking you? How do you know you’ll even be safe with him?”

“I’ll be safe,” Ashley answered, smiling. “I have my cell phone and besides, he doesn’t want my body. Like you said, he just wants my land.”

“Don’t do this, Ashley. I hate the thought of you going out with him,” Quinn grumbled. “I can take care of myself and this ranch. We’ve just had a little setback. Marry him! The man has nerve. I’d like to take my shotgun and run him off the place and forget it.”

“I don’t think that would be good for your blood pressure,” Ashley responded dryly. “I wish you wouldn’t even think about it.”

“I think it would make me feel immensely better to run him off our ranch. I don’t want you to go out with him.”

“And I don’t want to go, but I think I should hear him out. His offer may hold possibilities,” she reminded him, feeling as if she were arguing with herself instead of her father.

“Ashley, to be caught up in a marriage—any marriage—would still be hellish. That means dealing every day with someone you can’t stand to be around.”

“I might manage to stand to be around him,” she answered quietly, thinking how sparks flew between them when they were together.

Her father swore softly and she felt torn between conflicting needs. “I can’t stop you,” he admitted.

“It’s just a dinner. Only a few hours and I’ll be back home.”

Her father stared beyond her and shook his head. He tossed down his napkin. “I have to get outside and walk around while I think about this.”

“Please don’t worry. Forty-eight hours from now the time with him will be history.”

As Quinn left the room, Ashley rubbed her pounding head. She was half tempted to cancel the dinner date, but then she thought about her dad’s health, the debt that was accumulating, and she knew she had to go out with Gabe.

After breakfast the next morning she went to her room and looked at her clothes. She waded through her dresses and finally decided on a dark blue, high-waisted sheath dress. Something simple and dark. She wanted to wear a hood over her head. The world grew smaller daily and the chances of running into someone they knew loomed large to her.

She was on edge most of the day, and her nerves still jangled when she finally went to her bedroom to get ready for her date. Closing the door behind her, she looked at the room where she had grown up. It still held her maple four-poster bed, maple furniture with a rocker covered in blue cushions. An oriental rug covered the floor. As a girl, how many nights had she slept in that bed and dreamed of Gabe Brant, fantasizing about a date with him? Well, she finally was going on that date.

He had lost his parents and wife all within the past few years. She knew he had to hurt over those losses. Whether he grieved or not, Gabe was tough and ruthless.

She kept thinking about Julian. The little boy was adorable. Marry the father and she would have a son. She drew a deep breath. She shouldn’t marry him because of his little boy.

Was she setting herself up, too, for another heartache like Lars? Trusting a man again when she shouldn’t?

She bathed and pulled on the simple, dark-blue sleeveless cotton dress. With care she pinned her hair behind her head. She put on her diamond stud earrings and watch. She studied herself in the mirror, turning first one way and then another. She was seven months pregnant and that was that. She couldn’t change her shape.

With one last glance at the mirror, she prayed to herself that her father didn’t come home until after she was gone. He had argued with her about the dinner date, but had finally accepted that she wanted to go.

To her dismay, when she entered the family room, her father sat in his leather recliner, reading a magazine. She saw he had cleaned up for the occasion. He wore a fresh blue shirt and jeans. His hair was damp and recently combed and he scowled slightly as he read. When she stepped into the room, he looked up.

“Don’t you look nice,” he said.

“I look big.”

“Well, that’s the way you should be and you really aren’t very big to be ready to deliver in two months,” he said reassuringly. “Sure you don’t want to change your mind about tonight? I can go out and run Brant off when he gets here.”

“I want to hear what he has to say. You know I’m not going to do anything to hurt the ranch or you.”

“That’s what’s worrying me. I think you’re doing this for me and for the ranch. All the wrong reasons.”

The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “He’s at the front door,” she said. “I’ll bring him in and introduce you.”

“We’ve met. I’d still like to get my shotgun and run him off.”

“Just hang on to your temper.” She headed to the door, feeling butterflies in her stomach that didn’t have a thing to do with her pregnancy or her father’s anger.

She swung open the door to face Gabe Brant.




Three


Gabe looked handsome in his dark-blue suit, a white shirt and dark-blue tie. “I’m here,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her, sending tingles racing over her nerves.

“Great. I told Dad I’d bring you back to say hello. He isn’t looking forward to it, and I’m sure neither are you.”

Gabe entered and closed the door behind him. “Maybe it’s time for the Brants and the Ryders to bury the hatchet.”

“I rather agree, but when it’s a more-than-a-hundred-year-old family history, you can’t switch feelings off like turning off a light,” she said.

“I don’t know,” he drawled. “You’re going to make it easy for me to forget the feud.”

Ashley looked up at him and was caught in another intense, solemn gaze that made her heart skip a beat. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it easy for you to do that.”

“Oh, yes, you do, but we’ll pursue that later. Let me see your dad.”

She led the way to the family room. “Dad, you know Gabe Brant.”

“Evening, sir,” Gabe said, extending his hand. Both men looked as if they were ready to fight, and she wanted to hurry things along and get out of the house.

“This is a bunch of damn foolishness, Mr. Brant,” her father snapped, refusing to shake hands. Gabe’s eyes narrowed, and she could feel the animosity sizzling between them.

“I hope not. I have a proposition, actually a business offer. If you want to meet with me and let me talk to you about it, too, I’ll be glad to anytime.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know why Ashley is going with you now. It’s by the grace of her arguments that I’m not running you off our property.”

Gabriel Brant was withstanding her father’s wrath without a flinch. She just wanted to get the two separated.

“Can we go now and get this over with?” she asked.

“Fine,” Gabe replied. “We’ll be back early.”

“You better be. My daughter is seven months pregnant.”

“I know that, sir. I’ll take good care of her.”

Ashley wanted to shake her fist at him. “You don’t have to take care of me,” she snapped under her breath.

He shot her a glance before he nodded to her father. “Good night, Mr. Ryder. I appreciate the time Ashley is giving me.”

As they went out the front door, she knew her father was trailing after them. He stood in the doorway watching them as they drove away in Gabe’s black car.

Gabe glanced at her. “Well, we got through that without anyone being any worse for the exchange. Your dad held his temper mighty well. And I held mine.”

“You’ll hold your temper because you’re the one after something.”

“True.” He glanced at her. “You look pretty.”

“Thank you, but you can skip the compliments,” she replied coolly.

“Don’t sound so huffy. I’m still amazed how much you’ve changed since you were a kid.”

“You told me how you remember me—skinny, braces,” she remarked dryly.

“I’ll bet you remember me the same way.”

She cocked her head. “No, actually, I had a crush on you for a few years there. Does that surprise you?”

“Yes, it does,” he answered.

“It was a long time ago. Just figure—you were exciting because you were forbidden. And you were older.”

“Don’t rub it in. I’m thirty-three. How much younger are you?”

“I’m twenty-eight. Plus, you were captain of the football team—you and Wyatt Sawyer were chosen by the girls in my class as the best-looking guys in Stallion Pass High School.”

“Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said, laughing. “I grew up. I’ve dated and my values have changed, and you’re no longer forbidden.”

“For a minute there my hopes were soaring.”

“We’ve got a long drive into town. Why don’t you start telling me your plans now?” she suggested.

“Relax, Ashley,” he said. “I won’t bite. Let’s get to know each other. Tell me about your job in Chicago.”

“Well, if you really want to know, it was just typical ad agency stuff. I was involved with thinking up ideas and dealing with clients.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Terribly sometimes, but I’m needed here.”

“Do you plan to go back to it?” he asked, half thinking about their conversation and what she had just told him. She had had a teenage crush on him. That meant she hadn’t always hated him. And she thought he was good-looking. Sparks danced in the air when he was around her, and he was drawn to her in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe there really was some hope for his proposal. And yesterday morning with Julian…Ashley and Julian had taken to each other instantly. That was a bonus that made this union far more important to him.

“Ashley, I was thinking about that crush you had—”

“Don’t let that go to your head. I was a kid.”

“Well, I wish I’d paid more attention then—”

“No, you don’t. Remember, skinny, braces, five years younger. I don’t think so.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “You’re right. You were a scrawny little squirt. But you aren’t now.”

“Thanks for that bulletin,” she snapped with sarcasm. “Seven months pregnant is far from scrawny.”

“I meant that in a nice way.”

“Then thank you,” she answered quietly, wondering whether she could really trust his answer, yet liking his compliment.

“So are you going to take over running your ranch now?” he asked.

“I’ve taken over the books—but I don’t know the things my Dad does about breeding or training.”

Gabe studied her intently. “I’m surprised you’re not dating.”

“No, I’m definitely not interested in anyone around here.”

“Are you still in love with some guy in Chicago?”

“No, I’m not,” she answered in a frosty tone. He was surprised to find her so self-possessed and cool. He shot another glance her way, looking at her profile. He had started this to acquire land, but now he was more intrigued with the woman sitting beside him, a turn of events that stunned him because he was still in love with Ella. He didn’t want to be caught up in a situation where Ashley expected love. Whenever he thought of Ella, he hurt and he knew that wasn’t going to change. Gabe realized Ashley had been speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What did you say?”

“Where are we going to eat?” she asked. “We could still run into someone we know in San Antonio.”

“I’ve thought about that. It seems to me that the least likely place is a sort of generic hotel. It might not be the best dinner you’ve ever eaten, but it will be private. Not many locals will eat in the hotels and it’s unlikely we’ll know the out-of-towners.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Now if you want real seclusion, I can rent a room in the hotel and have dinner sent—”

“Not in the next two lifetimes will I go to a hotel room with you! Nice try.”

He shrugged. “Fine with me. You’re the one who’s more worried about who will see us.” He glanced at her. “Are you scared to go to a hotel room with me?”

“Hardly.”

“I swear I won’t make a pass.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” she snapped, and he could hear the annoyance in her voice. Gabe knew he needed to quit teasing her, but when he could get such a passionate reaction out of her, he couldn’t resist. He wondered how passionate she would get over long, steamy kisses. He drew a deep breath and knew he’d better stop following that line of thought.

“I do not, now or ever, want to go to a hotel room with you.”

“Why does that come out as another inviting challenge?”

“I was thinking more as a threat. You’re not helping your case.”

“Okay. Back to a neutral subject. Where would you like to eat?”

“A hotel dining room sounds fine.”

Thirty minutes later they were seated in a beige-and-green dining room of a hotel half a mile from the River-walk. The room was quiet except for piped-in music that played softly in the background. They were in a corner. She prayed they would not see anyone from Piedras or Lago counties.

Gabriel ordered wine for himself and water for her. Shortly after their drinks came, they ordered dinner. As soon as the waiter left, Gabe sipped his red wine and studied her. “Ashley, you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, but that isn’t why you asked me out tonight. Get to the point.”

He was amused at her dogged insistence on keeping the evening impersonal. “You know that kind of reaction from you just makes me all the more interested.”

Surprising her, he leaned forward suddenly and took her hand. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly, his thumb on her wrist. She was acutely aware of his touch and of his dark-brown eyes boring into her.

“Your pulse is racing. I think we should pursue getting to know each other for more reasons than saving your ranch and expanding mine.”

“You’re adept at smooth-talking to get what you want,” she answered, realizing that he had admitted feeling an attraction to her and that he was still holding her hand. She was reacting to him in ways she didn’t want to, and she found him exciting. Every time he fixed her with one of his piercing looks, his dark eyes took her breath away.

“I’m just observing what’s happening here.”

“All right, I’ll admit my pulse is racing,” she said, “but I chalk that up to not dating in a long time, my crush on you as a kid, and your sexy looks. We’re not friends, and I barely know you, so whatever I feel when I’m with you is not significant.”

“I don’t agree. Does it happen with every guy you go out with?” he asked with great innocence.

“That’s none of your business! You can cause my pulse to pound, but you also can cause my temper to rise. Now stop flirting with me.”

“You don’t like it?”

She took a deep breath, and he grinned.

“Let’s talk about getting married,” he said softly.

He made everything sound sexy. There was nothing about his offer that made Ashley feel she was considering an impersonal business decision. “I don’t see any way we can work out this marriage of convenience.”

“Sure, we can,” he said, releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair, pushing open his coat while he studied her. He looked dashing in his dark suit, his eyes not missing anything. “I think there are vastly more possibilities here than I imagined. A marriage between us would mean financial help for the Triple R. It would let me get started with expansion. I’ll have to admit, it would give Julian a mother and I would be there for you when the baby comes.”

She laughed. “I don’t need you when the baby comes. You’re not part of me and my baby.”

“I could be.” He paused infinitesimally, then said, “Your dad’s health isn’t good, is it?”

To hear Gabe say that about her father hurt, and she looked away. “Ashley,” Gabe said in an incredibly gentle voice that surprised her so much it brought her attention back to him. “I don’t mean to upset you about your dad. I’ve lost too many people I’ve loved, and it hurt to lose them.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, hearing the pain in his voice and seeing it cloud his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and she realized he was still grieving his losses.

“You have to face the truth. Your dad has health problems and he may need more help as time goes by.”

“We have our foreman, Gus,” Ashley protested.

“I’ve heard that in two years he’s going to retire and move to Wyoming where his son and grandkids live.”

The waiter came with their salads, and for a moment they ate in silence.

“I know Dad needs help—that’s why I’m sitting here listening to you, but marriage is just impossible,” Ashley said, wondering if she was arguing with herself more than him as she had done with her father the night before.

“It isn’t at all. I wouldn’t make demands on you. There wouldn’t be anything physical unless you wanted there to be.”

She couldn’t keep from raising an eyebrow and giving him a look. “So if I said let’s hop in bed, you’d be ready and willing?”

Putting down his fork, he smiled, and she drew a swift breath because it made him even more attractive. “Ashley, you’re a beautiful, appealing woman. I’m a guy. That’s all it takes.”

She shrugged. “Why should I have been surprised?”

Amusement flashed in his eyes again.

Their entrées came and they were silent a few minutes as they ate, yet her mind was seething with conflicting thoughts. Over it all was the replay of his velvety voice telling her that she was beautiful and appealing.

“Ashley,” he said, lowering his fork, “for the next hour, why don’t we just pretend that you’re Ashley Smith and I’m Gabe Jones. You’d see me a whole new way.”

“That’s like trying to pretend the rattlesnake a foot away from you is a kitten. That’s not possible.”

He grinned again, and she wondered how many female hearts he had melted with that smile. The man was wickedly handsome. This whole affair would be easier if she didn’t have this constant prickly awareness of how sexy he was.

“A rattlesnake?” he asked with another arch of his brow. He leaned across the table. “Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“All right. Maybe not a rattlesnake, but I can’t pretend you’re not a Brant. I’m far too aware of who you are.”

“And I’m incredibly aware of you.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” she protested with amusement. He was fun to flirt with, exciting to be with. Ashley knew she was on dangerous ground. She barely knew him. She needed to keep things impersonal and keep her wits about her.

“Will you answer something truthfully?” he asked.

Surprised, she set down her water glass. “Sure, unless it’s too personal.”

“I don’t think it’s personal at all. If I were really Gabe Jones, would you consider my proposition?”

She had walked into that one. She wanted to say no to his question and all other similar questions, but she had promised to be truthful. “I haven’t for one second considered that you’re anything other than a Brant.”

“Okay, while we eat, think about it that way. Just for the next hour, see me as Gabe Jones. If you were really Ashley Smith, I’ll tell you, I’d be a whole lot happier about all this.”

“I’d hate to see you want this any more than you already do,” she said. “All right, I’ll try to think of you as Gabe Jones, but that’s a stretch.”

“It shouldn’t be. You don’t know any Brants and never have. And if you think about it, this is an irresistible proposition.”

“That’s because it’s your idea and it’s been irresistible to you from the start,” she retorted.

“Au contraire. I’ve had a difficult time getting around the Ryder factor.”

“You hide it well.”

He touched her cheek. Her skin was soft and smooth as silk. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor.”

“I think it falls more under sarcasm than humor. You’re rather thick-skinned, aren’t you?”

“When I’m after something,” he agreed, and his dark eyes riveted her with a look that, under other circumstances, could have implied much more. “Now, remember, think Gabe Jones.”

Ashley sighed and looked around the almost empty dining room. To her relief, the only people she saw were strangers. A popular old ballad played softly, what her father called his “elevator music”, yet music he liked, and she wondered if every time she heard it played, she would always remember this evening.

While she took another bite of salmon, Gabe cut another bite of his juicy steak. The dinner was good, and the man across from her was exciting. She still couldn’t believe she was here with him. She glanced swiftly at him and then away. Why couldn’t she see him as an ordinary man instead of someone extraordinarily handsome and dashing?

Her gaze ran over planters of artificial greenery that served as dividers for part of the dining area. It was a hotel she had never been in before and would never be in again after this one unusual night that might set her on a course to changing her life.

“You aren’t using all your land, are you?” Gabe asked, breaking into her thoughts while he took a sip of his water.

“Not all,” she answered.

“There, you see? You aren’t using the land—I could expand on a quarter of your ranch and it wouldn’t interfere with your family or your horses. In exchange, you would have—”

“I know, help for Dad. And a hubby in name only. That is about as useful as a heater in July,” she replied.

“Let’s just talk—try the Jones-Smith approach. Tell me more about your life.”

“It’s pretty simple. I went to California to college and then got a job in advertising in Chicago.” Silence stretched between them.

“Want to tell me about the guy you left behind?” he asked.

“No.” She took a sip of water and considered Gabe’s life. “You seem to have a good relationship with your son.”

“I think I do. And don’t worry, if we marry I won’t let Julian be a burden to you.”

“I told you, I like children.”

“Julian is a good kid. He’s too quiet,” Gabe said solemnly. “The pediatrician tells me that she thinks he’ll outgrow it.”

“He wasn’t quiet yesterday,” Ashley said.

“He liked you. You have a way with kids, evidently.”

“He might not want you to remarry,” she said.

“He’s too little to have many ideas on the subject.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes and then Gabe said, “For all we know the old legend of Stallion Pass could come true. I’ve seen that white stallion on my land and on yours.”

“Well, the legend of the white stallion is foolishness,” Ashley snapped.

Gabe chuckled. “I agree, according to the legend, love comes where the white stallion lives,” he said. “It started way back with the first settlers battling the Apaches. A warrior fell in love with a cavalry captain’s daughter. The captain learned about it and was going to force her to marry another soldier. The warrior and his love planned to run away and marry. The night the warrior came to get her, he was killed by the cavalry. His ghost became the white stallion, forever searching for the woman he loved.”




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