interests—the ranch’s best interests—in mind.”
Jack rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers before speaking again. “And you’re sure the two are one and the same?”
Brett looked confused. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
Why, indeed. Except that Jack had often wondered what he’d missed by passing up the chance to strike out on his own when he’d been younger. He’d let the pull of the family business, his role as the eldest son, lock him into a life running his father’s empire. He didn’t regret his choice, exactly, but sometimes he just felt...constrained.
“Look, Brett, leave the business decisions to me. Okay? Tell your city slickers thanks, but no thanks, and drop this horse-breeding nonsense. Got it? If Daniel wants to stay at the Lucky C, he will...for his own reasons.” Jack clapped his brother on the shoulder as he stepped back.
“Jack...” Brett’s hands fisted, and his face hardened with displeasure and frustration.
But Jack felt it was better he settle the issue now, no holds barred, than have Brett continue to bug him about it and string the city slickers along. With a nod to the men from Dallas, he stepped away to look for his son. Seth had had plenty of time to change clothes and return to the party.
“Jack Colton!” His sister’s voice pulled him up short as he passed the patio doors to the living room. “How dare you!”
He groaned internally as he turned. Now what?
Beside Greta stood a certain caramel-haired china doll, her eyes red from crying. Before he could repeat his order for Laura’s cousin to get off the ranch, his sister seized his arm and dragged him through the crowd in the living room to an isolated corner of the foyer. Tracy followed.
“I am ashamed of you, Jack Colton!” Greta said, releasing his arm and scowling darkly. “I just found Tracy at our front door, crying. She says that you ordered her off the property. I hope I heard her wrong, because I can’t believe any brother of mine would be so rude and inhospitable. This is my engagement party, and you have no right to say who attends and who doesn’t.”
Jack dragged a hand over his mouth, tamping down the irritation building in his blood. “She’s not here because of your party, Greta. Or did she forget to tell you that part?”
“Did you kick her out?” Greta asked pointedly. “Did you not understand that she is family?”
He braced his hands on his hips and dug deep for patience. First Brett wrangling to tie Daniel to the ranch, now Greta shoving this woman’s connection to Laura down his throat. He loved his family, but sometimes...
“She’s Laura’s family. Not ours. And yes, I asked her to leave. We’d said all that needed to be said.”
“As Laura’s family, that makes her Seth’s family. And that, then, makes her our family.”
Jack groaned long and loud. He could see where this was going. “Greta, don’t interfere—”
“I’ve invited her to stay.” His sister lifted her chin in a way that said the matter was settled. Being the youngest sibling and the only girl, Greta had gotten her way more often than not growing up. He wouldn’t call her spoiled—not exactly—but Big J doted on her, and she was clearly and unequivocally Abra’s favorite.
Jack glanced at Tracy, who was studying her shoes and gnawing her bottom lip. “She didn’t come here because of your party. She came to cause trouble with Seth.”
Now Tracy’s head jerked up. “I did not! I told you the last thing I wanted was to hurt Seth. I just want to meet him, get to know him, spend some quality time with h—”
“And I said no.” He straightened his spine and clenched his hands at his sides. “Hell, no. No way. Not in a million years.”
“Jack!” Greta scolded.
“I’m not stupid,” he continued, undeterred by his sister, feeling his blood pressure rise and pulse at his temples. “I know this is a ploy to weasel your way into his life and establish some thin case you can take to a judge, trying to get visitation or shared custody or money or—”
Tracy was shaking her head, her face pale. “You don’t listen so well, do you, cowboy? I’ve told you I don’t want custody or your money!”
“But you do want to fill my son’s head with stories about his mother.” Jack aimed an accusing finger at her. “Things that will only raise more questions and—”
“He has a right to the truth!”
Greta gave a shrill referee-like whistle. “Both of you, to your corners!”
Abra appeared in the foyer, her eyes shooting daggers at the trio. “What is going on out here? I have guests! Greta, you have guests! And it is almost time for the official announcement. Shouldn’t you be freshening up and finding your fiancé and a glass of champagne about now?”
Their mother added a look that said the question was actually a command, and she wouldn’t be disobeyed.
“I’ll be right there, Mother.” Greta faced Jack again. “I have to go now, but Tracy is not going anywhere. I’ve invited her to stay as my guest. Not just for the party, but for an extended visit. She can have one of the spare rooms here in the main house.”
Jack stiffened, feeling as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a bull. “You did what? Greta!”
“I hope for your sake and your son’s that you will change your tune about letting her spend time with Seth. He has a right to know the truth, a right to know his maternal family.”
Jack turned to glower at the blonde, whose expression had brightened. A pink blush tinted her cheeks, and her dewy blue eyes watched him with a light of expectation and hope. The odd tangle of lust and protectiveness he’d felt toward her in the stable reemerged, sending a shot of heat to his core. Tracy was the first woman in years to turn his head and stir this carnal reaction in him. And she’d be staying at the main house, just a short ride from the old ranch house where he lived with Seth. A cool drink in the midst of a ranch full of hot, thirsty brothers and hired hands. He didn’t like the idea of that one bit, nor the flair of possessive jealousy that tickled his gut.
Tightening his jaw, he tore his gaze away, pushing aside the niggling desire.
She might look like an innocent china doll, but he feared she’d prove to be the Bride of Chucky.
He searched for an out and offered, “What is she supposed to do for clothes? I don’t see a suitcase.”
“She can borrow some of mine,” Greta returned.
“Actually...I have a suitcase in my car. I’d planned to stay at a motel in town during my stay in Oklahoma. But if the parking valet could bring my car around from—”
“You planned to stay?” he asked, cutting her off.
She swallowed, then straightened her shoulders. “I hoped to have a few days to spend with Seth.”
“See there? All settled.” Greta nodded in satisfaction. “You
