make it sound so simple!” she exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, John!”
He laughed. “It’s all a matter of simplification,” he drawled. He leaned back in the chair and sketched Maddie’s radiant face with narrowed pale blue eyes. “You sell yourself short. It’s not that you can’t understand. You just have to have things explained. Cort’s too impatient.”
She averted her eyes. Mention of Cort made her uneasy.
“Yes, he loses his temper,” John said thoughtfully. “But he’s not dangerous. Not like that boy.”
She paled. “I can’t talk about it.”
“You can, and you should,” he replied solemnly. “Your father was advised to get some counseling for you, but he didn’t believe in such things. That boy had a record for domestic assault, did you ever know? He beat his grandmother almost to death one day. She refused to press charges, or he would have gone to jail. His parents jumped in and got a fancy lawyer and convinced the authorities that he wasn’t dangerous. I believe they contributed to the reelection campaign of the man who was police chief at the time as well.”
“That’s a harsh accusation,” she said, shocked.
“It’s a harsh world, and politics is the dirtiest business in town. Corruption doesn’t stop at criminals, you know. Rich people have a way of subverting justice from time to time.”
“You’re rich, and you don’t do those types of things.”
“Yes, I am rich,” he replied honestly. “And I’m honest. I have my own business, but I didn’t get where I am by depending on my dad to support me.”
She searched his eyes curiously. “Is that a dig at Cort?”
“It is,” he replied quietly. “He stays at home, works on the ranch and does what King tells him to do. I told him some time ago that he’s hurting himself by doing no more than wait to inherit Skylance, but he just nods and walks off.”
“Somebody will have to take over the ranch when King is too old to manage it,” she pointed out reasonably. “There isn’t anybody else.”
John grimaced. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s the same with me. Can you really see Odalie running a ranch?” He burst out laughing. “God, she might chip a fingernail!”
She grinned from ear to ear.
“Anyway, I was a maverick. I wanted my own business. I have a farm-equipment business and I also specialize in marketing native grasses for pasture improvement.”
“You’re an entrepreneur,” she said with a chuckle.
“Something like that, I guess.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You know I don’t date much.”
“Yes. Sort of like me. I’m not modern enough for most men.”
“I’m not modern enough for most women,” he replied, and smiled. “Uh, there’s going to be a dressy party over at the Hancock place to introduce a new rancher in the area. I wondered if you might like to go with me?”
“A party?” she asked. She did have one good dress. She’d bought it for a special occasion a while ago, and she couldn’t really afford another one with the ranch having financial issues. But it was a nice dress. Her eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time. I went with Dad to a conference in Denver before he got sick.”
“I remember. You looked very nice.”
“Well, I’d be wearing the same dress I had on then,” she pointed out.
He laughed. “I don’t follow the current fashions for women,” he mused. “I’m inviting you, not the dress.”
“In that case,” she said with a pert smile, “I’d be delighted!”
Some men dragged their feet around the room and called it dancing. John Everett could actually dance! He knew all the Latin dances and how to waltz, although he was uncomfortable with some of the newer ways to display on a dance floor. Fortunately the organizers of the party were older people and they liked older music.
Only a minute into an enthusiastic samba, John and Maddie found themselves in the middle of the dance floor with the other guests clapping as they marked the fast rhythm.
“We should take this show on the road.” John chuckled as they danced.
“I’m game. I’ll give up ranching and become a professional samba performer, if you’ll come, too,” she suggested.
“Maybe only part of the year,” he mused. “We can’t let our businesses go to pot.”
“Spoilsport.”
He grinned.
While the two were dancing, oblivious to the other guests, a tall, dark man in a suit walked in and found himself a flute of champagne. He tasted it, nodding to other guests. Everyone was gathered around the dance floor of the ballroom in the Victorian mansion. He wandered to the fringes and caught his breath. There, on the dance floor, was Maddie Lane.
She was wearing a dress, a sheath of black slinky material that dipped in front to display just a hint of the lovely curve of her breasts and display her long elegant neck and rounded arms. Her pale blond hair shone like gold in the light from the chandeliers. She was wearing makeup, just enough to enhance what seemed to be a rather pretty face, and the pretty calves of her legs were displayed to their best advantage from the arch of her spiked high-heel shoes. He’d rarely seen her dressed up. Not that he’d been interested in her or anything.
But there she was, decked out like a Christmas tree, dancing with his best friend. John didn’t date anybody. Until now.
Cort Brannt felt irritation rise in him like bile. He scowled at the display they were making of themselves. Had they no modesty at all? And people were clapping like idiots.
He glared at Maddie. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She backed away from Cort, but she was dancing with John as if she really liked him. Her face was radiant. She was smiling. Cort had rarely seen her smile at all. Of course, usually he was yelling at her or making hurtful remarks. Not much incentive for smiles.
He sipped champagne. Someone spoke to him. He just nodded. He was intent on the dancing couple, focused and furious.
Suddenly he noticed that the flute was empty. He turned and went back to the hors d’oeuvres table and had them refill it. But he didn’t go back to the dance floor. Instead he found a fellow cattleman to talk to about the drought and selling off cattle.
A few minutes later he was aware of two people helping themselves to punch and cake.
“Oh, hi, Cort,” John greeted him with a smile. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Hadn’t planned to,” Cort said in a cool tone. “My dad
