his eyes.
Her shoulders squared as she examined him, green eyes dull, just a little too wide. “So, nothing’s changed.”
His nod felt heavy. Dishonest somehow. “Nothing’s changed.”
Without another word, she unlatched the gate and strode away, leaving him with an empty feeling that didn’t sit right.
He’d been on his own for ten years. Had worked hard to finally put her out of his mind. And now here she was again, muddling a straightforward plan to help Martin and a gamble to save his own future.
He headed back for his shirt and hat.
Claire affected him more than he’d bargained for. She was a complication, but he was doing this in spite of her, not because of her.
He pulled his brim low and watched her bright head disappear down a small hill.
Best he remember that.
CLAIRE SHIELDED HER eyes from the bright morning sun the next day and scrutinized the pickup bumping up the ranch’s drive. The truck’s tall tires kept the road grit from its polished silver exterior. Definitely someone well-off and not from around here.
Her shoulders rose and tensed. Life these days held a constant drumbeat of worry. And the grim bass percussion underneath it all: Money. Money. Money. Were these the Carne Incorporado reps Tanner mentioned? If so, she had to intercept them. Stop whatever deal he planned.
Claire stood up in the flower garden. When the truck crunched to a halt, she dusted her knees and headed to meet the stranger. Jonathan, stretched out on the porch swing reading, marked his page with his finger and glanced over.
To her dismay, Tanner ambled up, dark hat tipped low, square jaw emerging from the brim’s shadow. Her heart took a tumble as it had done, irritatingly often, since they’d spoken yesterday.
Lately she couldn’t stop looking at him. He was so handsome. So Tanner. She knew the arc of his lower lip, the strength in his shoulders. The way he meticulously tucked his shirt into his jeans, the way his boots were worn down at the heel, the way he touched that scar on his jaw without realizing he was doing it.
She shouldn’t have sought him out alone in the pasture. Cracked open the container where she’d locked memories of him away. Now they leaked into her thoughts. A constant drip.
Two men emerged from the truck, slammed the doors and strode to Tanner with extended hands and confident grins. Her jittering nerves turned to flat-out irritation at Tanner’s wide-planted cowboy boots and straight-backed stance. He exuded authority. Command. As if he owned the place. Already ran it. Her jaw tightened. Like heck he did.
Her sandals churned up pebbles and when she joined the two men, Tanner raised his voice. “Bill Sanchez and Rick Ortis, this is Claire Shelton, Martin’s daughter. Claire, these are the reps I mentioned from Carne Incorporado.”
The middle-aged men, dressed in well-cut suits that looked oppressive given the balmy temperature, tipped their hats. Pressure built inside Claire. How to handle this?
The one with a thick moustache and large round glasses, Bill, grasped her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Nice country you got up here.”
She put on a smile that didn’t feel like one. “Thank you. Would you like some sweet tea? You must have had a long trip coming from—” Her voice trailed off. Her mind twisted until the place came to her. “Mexico City.”
“It was worth the drive,” the second man, Rick, replied. “We’ve been anxious to get up here since Tanner phoned.”
Rick shook her hand, his moist palm pressed briefly to hers. She itched to wipe it on her cut-off jean shorts but checked herself. Tried to exude professionalism despite her Daisy Duke outfit. Her eyes traveled down her soil-dusted black tank top and bare legs. Why hadn’t Tanner mentioned their arrival time?
“Tea would be nice. How about after we’ve toured the barns?” Bill pulled off his hat and waved it in front of his full, flushed face. “Something to look forward to while we talk business.”
“Business. Yes. About that.” Her chin jerked up. “I’m afraid our plans have changed and we’re not interested in expanding our buyers list at the moment. My apologies that this wasn’t communicated before your trip.”
Bill scratched his balding head. Looked puzzled. “We’ve been hearing about your top stud, Revelation. Would be a pleasure to take a look at him while we’re here.”
“He’s the biggest!” piped up Jonathan. He’d crept up behind them and ducked behind Claire’s back.
Rick smiled down at her boy. “That’s what we’ve heard. If he looks half as good as he does on paper, we’re hoping to put in an offer on him.”
Jonathan pulled at Claire’s shirt. “We’re not selling Revelation, are we?” he whispered.
Her fingers ruffled his soft reddish-brown curls. “No, sweetie.” All of the livestock would transfer to Mr. Ruddell when they sold him the ranch.
Tanner shot her an unreadable look, then stepped forward. “We’ll be happy to show Revelation to you. Follow me.” Without a backward glance, he unlatched a gate and ushered the men inside the grassy pasture that butted against red, pitched-roof barns.
Claire heard an angry buzzing, as if a wasp had gotten trapped between her ears. How dare he.
A tug at her arm stopped her from scrambling after the group. “Can I go?”
“You know the rule about the barns, Jonathan.”
“Yeah. You said I can’t go without a grown-up. So if I’m with you, I can come.” He peered up at her. “Right?”
Claire glanced between the disappearing men and her mutinous son. He had a point...and how rarely he asked for anything lately...still. She needed to focus on stopping Tanner’s business deal and couldn’t do that while keeping a close eye on Jonathan. She didn’t like him to be around large animals, even when they were restrained.
“Another time, honey. How about we make cookies when I get back?”
His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Is this a bribe?”
“Yep.”
A grin replaced his pout. “It’s a deal...if we make the kind we don’t bake. You know. With the peanut butter?”
She tickled his side. “You got it.”
“I’ll get the ingredients!” he yelled and a wistful smile crossed her face as she watched him bolt to the house. What she wouldn’t do to protect him...
“Love you,” she called after Jonathan when he bounded up the porch steps, Roxy hot on his heels.
“I know!” he called over his shoulder and disappeared into the house.
“Don’t
