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
