for breakfast, hoping Ren would already be gone. But he was just getting up from the table.
He glared at her. “We keep regular hours here for meals,” he told her curtly. “If you come sashaying down late, you don’t eat.”
“But, Mr. Ren...” Delsey protested.
“Rules aren’t broken here,” Ren returned. He looked at Merrie, who was stiff as a board. “You heard me. Delsey will tell you what hours mealtimes are. Don’t be late again.”
He shoved his hat down over his eyes, shouldered into his heavy coat and went out without another single word.
Merrie was fighting back tears.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Delsey said. She drew the girl close and rocked her while she cried. “He’s just getting over a broken engagement, and he’s bitter. He wasn’t like this before. He’s basically a kind man...”
“He said my cross was stupid and I wasn’t to let it show again,” she sobbed. “What kind of man is he?”
Delsey rocked her some more and sighed. “It’s a long story. He went to a famous college up north on a scholarship and a professor there changed his mind about religion. He was an excellent student, but when he came home, he was suddenly antireligion. He sounded off to his mother about her Christmas tree and her faith, and had her running away in tears. Then he overheard her telling Randall that Ren was as cold and heartless as his father, whom she’d divorced. She was proud of Randall, because he was a better son. Ren just left. He’s never spoken to his mother again.”
Merrie pulled back and looked at the older woman through red eyes. “She divorced his father?”
She nodded. She handed Merrie tissues to dry her eyes with. “His father owned this ranch, but it was a hard life. His mother had very expensive tastes, so the story goes, and Randall’s father wanted her. So she ran away with him.”
Merrie grimaced. “It’s a huge ranch now.”
“Yes, it is. But it was small and in debt when Ren showed up at the door just after that Christmas. He and his father began to work together to build up a breeding herd. Ren knew business, with his Harvard business degree, and his father knew cattle.” She smiled. “It took fifteen years, but they diversified into oil and mining, as well as cattle, and they built a small empire here. Ren’s very proud of it. His father was, too. He died two years ago.” She sighed. “Ren wouldn’t even let his mother come to the funeral. He’s still bitter about what he heard her say. He won’t speak to her at all.”
“It isn’t human, to hold a grudge like that,” Merrie said quietly. “He seems such a cold man,” she added softly.
“There’s a kind man under all that ice. It’s just that he’s been frozen for a long time.”
“He scares me to death,” Merrie confessed.
“He won’t hurt you,” Delsey said quietly. “You have to stand up to him, honey. A man like that will walk all over you if you let him.”
“I’ve lived almost twenty-three years with a man like that,” Merrie told her. “He...” She swallowed and her arms folded over her chest. “He was brutal to us, especially after our mother died. He wanted sons. He got us. So he made us pay for it. We couldn’t even date. He wouldn’t let us have friends. We still can’t drive a car. I’ve never even been kissed. How’s that for a stifled environment?” she asked with a hollow laugh. “The only concession he made was that we were allowed to go to church. You have no idea how important faith was to us when we were growing up. It was all that kept us going.” She fingered the cross under her sweatshirt. “My mother gave me this cross. And I’m not taking it off.”
Delsey smiled. “That’s the spirit. You tell him.”
“Sorry. I’m not a lemming,” Merrie teased.
Delsey laughed. “You’re a tonic, you know.”
Merrie looked wistfully at biscuits and sausage and eggs. “I guess I’ll be on time at lunch,” she said.
“He’s gone. Sit down and eat.”
Merrie sat at the table, her eyes worriedly glancing at the door.
“Stay there,” Delsey said. She went and looked out the front door. Ren was going down the hill toward the barn in his big red SUV. Snow had started to fall lightly.
She went back to the kitchen. “He’s gone to the barn. After that, he’ll ride out to the line cabins and check on the livestock. Snow’s starting to fall.”
“It is?” Merrie was excited.
“Eat first,” Delsey said with a laugh. “Then you can go play in the snow.”
She hesitated with her fork over the eggs. “Thanks, Delsey.”
“It’s no problem. Really.”
Merrie sighed with pleasure and dug into breakfast. Afterward, she slipped on a light jacket and her boots. She was sorry she hadn’t packed a coat. They never had snow in Comanche Wells in autumn. They rarely even had it in winter.
“Child, you need something heavier than that!” Delsey fussed.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t mind the cold so much if there’s snow.” She laughed. “If I get too cold, I’ll just come back inside.”
“All right, but be careful where you go, okay?”
“I will.”
* * *
SHE STARTED WALKING around the house and down the path that led to some huge outbuildings with adjacent corrals. There was even a pole barn with bench seats. Inside it, a man was working a horse with a length of rope, tossing it lightly at the prancing animal. It was black and beautiful, like silk all over. It reminded her of home and her family’s stable of horses.
She played in the thick flakes of falling snow, laughing as she danced. It was so incredibly beautiful. She caught her breath, watching it freeze as it left her mouth, enjoying the cold, white landscape and the mountains beyond. She wanted to paint it. She loved her home in Texas, but this view was exquisite. She committed it to memory to sketch later.
She was curious about the poor horse that had been beaten. She could empathize with it, because she knew how that felt. She had deep scars on her back from her father’s belt, when she’d tried to save her poor sister from a worse beating. Her father had turned his wrath on her instead.
She shivered, remembering the terror she and Sari had felt when he came at them. He wouldn’t even let a local physician treat them, for fear he’d be arrested. He got an unlicensed doctor on his payroll to stitch the girls up and treat them. There was no question of plastic surgery. They had to live with the scars.
Not now, of course. Sari and Merrie were both worth two hundred million each. They’d gone shopping just before poor Sari ran away to the Bahamas to get over Paul’s rejection. But Merrie had bought sweats and pajamas and very plain clothing. She still couldn’t force herself to buy modern things, like crop tops and low-cut pants. She didn’t want to look as if she was hungry for male attention.
Her
