Texas Wild. Brenda Jackson
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“Good seeing you again as well, Megan,” he said, taking her hand in his.
The warm sensation Megan had felt earlier intensified with the touch of his hand on hers, but she fought to ignore it. “So, what brings you to Denver?”
He placed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I arrived this morning to appear in court on a case I handled last year, and figured since I was here I’d give you an update. I actually started work on your case a few weeks ago. I don’t like just dropping in like this, but I tried calling you when I first got to town and couldn’t reach you on your cell phone.”
“She was in surgery all morning.”
They both turned to note Grace was still in the room. She stood in the doorway smiling, eyeing Rico up and down with a look of pure female appreciation on her face. Megan wouldn’t have been surprised if Grace started licking her lips.
“Thanks, and that will be all Grace,” Megan said.
Grace actually looked disappointed. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m positive. I’ll call you if I need you,” Megan said, forcing back a grin.
“Oh, all right.”
It was only when Grace had closed the door behind her that Megan glanced back at Rico to find him staring at her. A shiver of nervousness slithered down her spine. She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable around him. But she had discovered upon meeting Rico that she had a strong attraction to him, something she’d never had for a man before. For the past three months, out of sight had meant out of mind where he was concerned—on her good days. But with him standing in the middle of her office she was forced to remember why she’d been so taken with him at her cousin’s wedding.
The man was hot.
“Would you like to take a seat? This sounds important,” she said, returning to the chair behind her desk, eager to hear what he had to say and just as anxious to downplay the emotional reaction he was causing.
A few years ago, her family had learned that her great-grandfather, Raphel Stern Westmoreland, who they’d assumed was an only child, had actually had a twin brother, Reginald Scott Westmoreland. It all started when an older man living in Atlanta by the name of James Westmoreland—a grandson of Reginald—began genealogy research on his family. His research revealed a connection to the Westmorelands living in Denver—her family. Once that information had been uncovered, her family had begun to wonder what else they didn’t know about their ancestor.
They had discovered that Raphel, at twenty-two, had become the black sheep of the family after running off with the preacher’s wife, never to be heard from again. He had passed through various states, including Texas, Wyoming, Kansas and Nebraska, before settling down in Colorado. It was found that he had taken up with a number of women along the way. Everyone was curious about what happened to those women, since it appeared he had been married to each one of them at some point. If that was true, there were possibly even more Westmorelands out there that Megan and her family didn’t know about. That was why her oldest cousin, Dillon, had taken it upon himself to investigate her great-grandfather’s other wives.
Dillon’s investigation had led him to Gamble, Wyoming, where he’d not only met his future wife, but he’d also found out the first two women connected with Raphel hadn’t been the man’s wives, but were women he had helped out in some way. Since that first investigation, Dillon had married and was the father of one child, with another on the way. With a growing family, he was too busy to chase information about Raphel’s third and fourth wives. Megan had decided to resume the search, which was the reason she had hired Rico, who had, of course, come highly recommended by her brothers and cousins.
Megan watched Rico take a seat, thinking the man was way too sexy for words. She was used to being surrounded by good-looking men. Case in point, her five brothers and slew of cousins were all gorgeous. But there was something about Rico that pulled at her in a way she found most troublesome.
“I think it’s important, and it’s the first break I’ve had,” he responded. “I was finally able to find something on Clarice Riggins.”
A glimmer of hope spread through Megan. Clarice was rumored to have been her great-grandfather’s third wife. Megan leaned forward in her chair. “How? Where?”
“I was able to trace what I’ve pieced together to a small town in Texas, on the other side of Austin, called Forbes.”
“Forbes, Texas?”
“Yes. I plan to leave Thursday morning. I had thought of leaving later today, after this meeting, but your brothers and cousins talked me out of it. They want me to hang out with them for a couple of days.”
Megan wasn’t surprised. Although the Westmorelands were mostly divided among four states—Colorado, Georgia, Montana and Texas—the males in the family usually got together often, either to go hunting, check on the various mutual business interests or just for a poker game getaway. Since Rico was the brother-in-law to two of her cousins, he often joined those trips.
“So you haven’t been able to find out anything about her?” she asked.
“No, not yet, but I did discover something interesting.”
Megan lifted a brow. “What?”
“It’s recorded that she gave birth to a child. We can’t say whether the baby was male or female, but it was a live birth.”
Megan couldn’t stop the flow of excitement that seeped into her veins. If Clarice had given birth, that could mean more Westmoreland cousins out there somewhere. Anyone living in Denver knew how important family was to the Westmorelands.
“That could be big. Really major,” she said, thinking. “Have you mentioned it to anyone else?”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, you’re the one who hired me, so anything I discover I bring to you first.”
She nodded. “Don’t say anything just yet. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. You can say you’re going to Texas on a lead, but nothing else for now.”
Presently, there were fifteen Denver Westmorelands. Twelve males and three females. Megan’s parents, as well as her aunt and uncle, had been killed in a plane crash years ago, leaving Dillon and her oldest brother, Ramsey, in charge. It hadn’t been easy, but now all of the Westmorelands were self-supporting individuals. All of them had graduated from college except for the two youngest—Bane and Bailey. Bane was in the U.S. Navy, and Bailey, who’d fought the idea of any education past high school, was now in college with less than a year to go to get her degree.
There had never been any doubt in Megan’s mind that she would go to college to become an anesthesiologist. She loved her job. She had known this was the career she wanted ever since she’d had her tonsils removed at six and had met the nice man who put her to sleep. He had come by to check on her after the surgery. He’d visited with her, ate ice cream with her and told her all about his job. At the time, she couldn’t even pronounce it, but she’d known that was her calling.
Yet everyone needed a break from their job every once in a while, and she was getting burned out. Budget cuts required doing more with less, and she’d known for a while that it was time she went somewhere to chill. Bailey had left that morning for Charlotte to visit