didn’t seem to notice the dip in her son’s mood as she continued, “Is it crazy that I like the industrial feel to this unit?” She indicated the brochure on high-end appliances.
Shane appreciated how much fun his mother was having with the project. He wrapped his arm around her and dropped a kiss on her head. “Whatever you decide is going to be a showstopper.”
“I hope so. Suzanne has been going on and on about the new house she’s building in your development to the point where I want to throw her and that pretentious designer she hired right through a plate-glass window.”
Growing up with four older brothers gave Elyse a competitive spirit in constant need of a creative outlet. Her husband hadn’t shared her interests. Landon Delgado had liked ranching and believed in hard work over fancy innovation. He’d often spent long hours in the saddle moving cattle or checking fences. His days began before sunup and rarely ended until long after dinner. When he wasn’t out and about on the ranch, he could be found in his office tending to the business side.
To Landon’s dismay, Shane hadn’t inherited his father’s love of all things ranching. Maybe that was because as soon as Shane could sit up by himself, his father had put him on a horse, expecting Shane to embrace the ranching life. But he’d come to hate the way his every spare moment was taken up by ranch duties assigned to him by his father.
You aren’t going to amount to anything if you can’t handle a little hard work.
About the time he’d hit puberty, Shane’s behavior around the ranch had bloomed into full-on rebellion, and when Shane turned fifteen, the real battles began. He started hanging out with older friends who had their own cars. Most days he didn’t come home right after school and dodged all his chores. His buddies liked to party. He’d been forced to toil alongside his father since he was three years old. Didn’t he deserve to have a little fun?
According to his father, the answer was no.
You’re wrong if you think that grin of yours is all you need to make it in this world.
“So what have you cooked up for us tonight?” Shane asked as he escorted his mother to the enormous kitchen at the back of the house.
“Apricot-and-Dijon-glazed salmon.” Although Elyse employed a full-time housekeeper, she enjoyed spending time whipping up gourmet masterpieces. “I got the recipe from the man who catered Janice Hunt’s dinner party. I think I’m going to hire him to cater the Bullseye’s centennial party,” Elyse continued, arching an eyebrow at her son’s blank expression.
Shane’s thoughts were so consumed with The Bellamy project these days, he’d forgotten all about the event. “The centennial party. When is that again?”
“March twenty-first. I’ve arranged a tasting with Vincent on the twenty-fourth of this month so we can decide what we’re going to have.”
“We?” He barely restrained a groan. “Don’t you have one of your friends who could help with this?”
“I do, but this is your ranch we’re celebrating and your legacy.”
“Sure. Of course.” Shane had no interest in throwing a big party for the ranch, but gave his mother his best smile. “A hundred years is a huge milestone and we will celebrate big.”
This seemed to satisfy his mother. Elyse was very social. She loved to plan parties and when Shane was growing up there had often been dinners with friends and barbecues out by the pool. Often Shane had wondered how a vibrant, beautiful urbanite like his mother had found happiness with an overly serious, rough-around-the-edges Texas rancher. But there was no question that in spite of their differences, his parents had adored each other, and the way Landon had doted on his wife was the one area where Shane had seen eye to eye with his father.
At that moment Brandee Lawless popped into his mind. There was a woman he wanted to sweep into his arms and never let go. He imagined sending her hat spinning away and tunneling his fingers through her long golden hair as he pulled her toward him for a hot, sexy kiss.
But he’d noticed her regarding him with the same skepticism he used to glimpse in his father’s eyes. She always seemed to be peering beyond his charm and wit to see what he was made of. He’d never been able to fool her with the mask he showed to the world. It was unsettling. When she looked at him, she seemed to expect...more.
Someday people are going to figure out that you’re all show and no substance.
So far he’d been lucky and that hadn’t happened. But where Brandee was concerned, it sure seemed like his luck was running out.
After snatching too few hours of sleep, Brandee rushed through her morning chores and headed to Royal’s history museum. She hadn’t taken time for breakfast and now the coffee she’d consumed on the drive into town was eating away at her stomach lining. Bile rose in her throat as she parked in the museum lot and contemplated her upside-down world.
It seemed impossible that her life could implode so easily. That the discovery of a single piece of paper meant she could lose everything. In the wee hours of the morning as she stared at the ceiling, she’d almost convinced herself to pay Maverick the money and resign from the TCC. Saving her ranch was more important than besting the terrible trio. But she’d never been a quitter and backing down when bullied had never been her style. Besides, as authentic as the document had looked, there was no reason to believe it was real or that it was in the museum where anyone could stumble on it.
Thirty minutes later, she sat at a table in the small reference room and had her worst fears realized. Before her, encased in clear plastic, was the document she’d been sent a photo of. She tore her gaze from the damning slip of paper and looked up at the very helpful curator. From Rueben Walker’s surprise when she’d been waiting on the doorstep for the museum to open, Brandee gathered he wasn’t used to having company first thing in the morning.
“You say this is part of a collection donated to the museum after Jasper Crowley’s death?” Brandee wondered what other bombshells were to be found in the archives.
“Yes, Jasper Crowley was one of the founding members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Unfortunately he didn’t live to see the grand opening of the clubhouse in 1910.”
“What other sorts of things are in the collection?”
“The usual. His marriage license to Sarah McKellan. The birth certificate for their daughter, Amelia. Sarah’s death certificate. She predeceased Jasper by almost thirty years and he never remarried. Let’s see, there were bills of sale for various things. Letters between Sarah and her sister, Lucy, who lived in Austin.”
Brandee was most interested in Jasper’s daughter. The land had been her dowry. Why hadn’t she claimed it?
“Is there anything about what happened to Amelia? Did she ever get married?”
Walker regarded Brandee, his rheumy blue eyes going suddenly keen. “I don’t recall there being anything about a wedding. You could go through the newspaper archives. With someone of Jasper’s importance, his daughter’s wedding would have been prominently featured.”
Brandee had neither the time nor the patience for a random search through what could potentially be years’ worth of newspapers. “I don’t
