Pursued By The Rich Rancher. Catherine Mann
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How the hell had this happened? His hands gripped the arms of the chair and he resisted the urge to vent his frustration. He bit back the words he wanted to spout and simply said, “How did they manage that?”
“When word first leaked of my illness, they moved fast and took advantage of investor fears. I should have seen that coming. I trusted old friendships. I was wrong. I need to move faster now. Time’s too important.”
He should have seen this coming. He should have thought beyond his part of the family holdings. “We could have Stone return as CEO until the crisis with the Lowery Resorts passes.”
“No, he doesn’t want it, and I need to see the company settled with our new CEO, Preston Armstrong, in control before I can rest easily. The board and I chose Preston because we believe in him, but he will need time to gain investors’ trust. So in the meantime, I need your help.”
“You don’t need to make it a test.” He patted her hand, then gripped it. “Just tell me what to do for you and I’m here for you, for the family.”
Smiling, she gave his hand a squeeze back, before her eyes narrowed with the laser focus that had leveled many in the business world. “The Lowery family has a vulnerability in their portfolio.”
“You want me to exploit it?” His mind churned with possibilities he wanted to discuss with Stone.
“Convince the Lowerys to sell back a sizeable portion of those shares bought by their shell companies and I’ll transfer all my shares of the ranch into your hands effective immediately.”
He waved aside the last part of her words. “It’s not about me accumulating a larger part of the homestead. It’s about our family. I will not allow our land to pass into anyone else’s hands.”
She nodded tightly. “There’s that old competitive spirit of yours. I was wondering if you’d buried it completely under that laid-back air you carry around these days.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t like reminders of that side of himself. He picked up his tea and drank. There was still a lot of dirt inside him to wash away from those rodeo days. Things he’d allowed his parents to push him to do. Things he regretted.
“You need to be aware, the Lowery family is going to be resistant. You’ll need to be careful and savvy in gaining the trust of the one chink in their armor. I’ve even given you a head start.”
He paused mid-drink, then set his glass back down carefully. “What do you mean by head start?”
Her thumbs rubbed along the arms of the wooden rocker. “The vulnerable shares belong to the Lowery grandson. His widowed mother is the executor, and she needs to invest wisely for the boy’s future—long-term.”
A kid? A widow? A creeping sensation started up his spine, as if he were about to get kicked by a horse or run over by a stampede. “Gran, what have you done?”
“I investigated all the Lowerys, of course. And when I found out the grandson adores all things cowboy, I made sure a brochure for our camp landed in his mother’s hands so we would have the chance to meet with them—away from the grandparents’ influence.”
Ah, damn. It couldn’t be...
“In fact, I believe you’ve already met her and her son.” She pointed a frail finger toward the corral, where she would have had a clear view of his morning activities.
Crap. He could almost hear that stampede gaining speed, ready to run him over.
“The lovely red-haired lady who watched you work with Diamond Gem.”
The sun was low and warm, piercing through the barn windows as Nina sat at a long wooden table eating supper with the other parents. A country band played twangy children’s songs, a group of young campers sitting clustered in front of the small stage. Cody rocked and flapped his hands in time, having already finished his macaroni and cheese. A little girl with a pink scarf over her shaved head spun in circles with a streamer. A little boy with cerebral palsy held his new friend’s hand as they danced. Three children ran up to the stage clapping.
She’d spent the morning unpacking, then eating lunch and attending camp sessions with her son, followed by pony rides, arts and crafts. They’d made belts and jewelry. And not just the children, but the adults had been included, as well. She touched the bracelet full of little charms, all Wild West themed, and a gem that was also her son’s birthstone.
Between the horses and the art, her son’s two favorite activities, Cody had been enthralled. The tiny sticker jewels he’d glued to the belt made an intricate repeating pattern that had even surprised the instructor.
Her son was happy, but tired from a good day. The best she could remember having in a long time. And she couldn’t deny that her mind wandered back to the morning and the dusty cowboy who probably hadn’t given her a second thought. But she’d kept looking for him in the crowds.
And she didn’t know his name.
She stabbed at her dinner salad, covered in strips of tender steak. The big grill outside had been fired up with a variety of meats, potatoes and corn for the adults. She was wondering how the fee they charged possibly covered such a high-end production. The McNair family, or some of their wealthy friends, had to be underwriting the expense. Her in-laws were always looking for tax havens. As fast as the thought hit her, she winced. She hated how cynical she’d become, but it was hard to feel sympathy for people who wanted to write a check rather than get to know their only grandchild.
Old anger and hurt simmered. She sliced through a steak strip, took a big bite and reminded herself to enjoy this great food and the break from always staying on guard as the only person to watch over Cody.
A shadow stretched across her, giving her only a second’s warning to chew faster.
“Would you like some dessert?” Warm whiskey tones caressed her neck and ears.
She set her fork down carefully and swallowed the bite before turning around. Sure enough, her dusty cowboy stood behind her, holding a plate of blueberry cobbler—except he wasn’t dusty any longer.
His chaps and vest were gone. Just fresh jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Her eyes were drawn to the sprinkling of dark hair along his tanned forearms. Masculine arms. Funny how she’d forgotten how enticing such details could be.
“Oh, hello, again.” Why had she thought she wasn’t attracted to cowboys?
“Dessert?”
She shook herself out of the fog before she embarrassed herself. “Not just yet, thank you. I’m stuffed from supper. I didn’t expect the meal to be this good, so I snacked earlier.”
He straddled the bench, sitting beside her. “What did you expect? Rubber chicken?”
The hint of man musk and aftershave reminded her of how long it had been since she’d had a man in her life. In her bed.
Shrugging,