The Rancher & Heart of Stone (7 page)

“Oops, sorry, wasn’t thinking.” She reached up and drew it between her breasts, to fasten it beside her hip.

“I always wear my seat belt,” he said. “Dad refused to drive the car until we were all strapped in. He was in a wreck once. He said he never forgot that he’d be dead except for the seat belt.”

“My dad wasn’t in a wreck, but he was always careful about them, too.” She put her strappy purse on the floorboard. “Did Odalie come home?” she asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“Not yet,” he said. He had to hide a smile, because the question lacked any subtlety.

“Oh.”

He was beginning to realize that Odalie had been a major infatuation for him. Someone unreachable that he’d dreamed about, much as young boys dreamed about movie stars. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he and Odalie were as different as night and day. She wanted an operatic career and wasn’t interested in fitting him into that picture. Would he be forever hanging around opera houses where she performed, carrying bags and organizing fans? Or would he be in Texas, waiting for her rare visits? She couldn’t have a family and be a performer, not in the early stages of her career, maybe never. Cort wanted a family. He wanted children.

Funny, he’d never thought of himself as a parent before. But when he’d listened to Maddie talk about her little fairy sculptures and spoke of them as her children, he’d pictured her with a baby in her arms. It had shocked him how much he wanted to see that for real.

“You like kids, don’t you?” he asked suddenly.

“What brought that on?” She laughed.

“What you said, about your little fairy sculptures. They’re beautiful kids.”

“Thanks.” She looked out the window at the dry, parched grasslands they were passing through. “Yes, I love kids. Oh, Cort, look at the poor corn crops! That’s old Mr. Raines’s land, isn’t it?” she added. “He’s already holding on to his place by his fingernails I guess he’ll have to sell if it doesn’t rain.”

“My sister said they’re having the same issues up in Wyoming.” He glanced at her. “Her husband knows a medicine man from one of the plains tribes. She said that he actually did make it rain a few times. Nobody understands how, and most people think it’s fake, but I wonder.”

“Ben was talking about a Cheyenne medicine man who can make rain. He’s friends with him. I’ve known people who could douse for water,” she said.

“Now, there’s a rare talent indeed,” he commented. He pursed his lips. “Can’t Ben do that?”

“Shh,” she said, laughing. “He doesn’t want people to think he’s odd, so he doesn’t want us to tell anybody.”

“Still, you might ask him to go see if he could find water. If he does, we could send a well-borer over to do the job for him.”

She looked at him with new eyes. “That’s really nice of you.”

He shrugged. “I’m nice enough. From time to time.” He glanced at her pointedly. “When women aren’t driving me to drink.”

“What? I didn’t drive you to drink!”

“The hell you didn’t,” he mused, his eyes on the road so that he missed her blush. “Dancing with John Everett. Fancy dancing. Latin dancing.” He sighed. “I can’t even do a waltz.”

“Oh, but that doesn’t matter,” she faltered, trying to deal with the fact that he was jealous. Was he? That was how it sounded! “I mean, I think you dance very nicely.”

“I said some crude things to you,” he said heavily. “I’m really sorry. I don’t drink, you see. When I do...” He let the sentence trail off. “Anyway, I apologize.”

“You already apologized.”

“Yes, but it weighs on my conscience.” He stopped at a traffic light. He glanced at her with dark, soft eyes. “John’s my friend. I think a lot of him. But I don’t like him taking you out on dates and hanging around you.”

She went beet-red. She didn’t even know what to say.

“I thought it might come as a shock,” he said softly. He reached a big hand across the console and caught hers in it. He linked her fingers with his and looked into her eyes while he waited for the lights to change. “I thought we might take in a movie Friday night. There’s that new Batman one.”

“There’s that new Ice Age one,” she said at the same time.

He gave her a long, amused look. “You like cartoon movies?”

She flushed. “Well...”

He burst out laughing. “So do I. Dad thinks I’m nuts.”

“Oh, I don’t!”

His fingers contracted around hers. “Well, in that case, we’ll see the Ice Age one.”

“Great!”

The light changed and he drove on. But he didn’t let go of her hand.

High tea was amazing! There were several kinds of tea, china cups and saucers to contain it, and little cucumber sandwiches, chicken salad sandwiches, little cakes and other nibbles. Maddie had never seen anything like it. The tearoom was full, too, with tourists almost overflowing out of the building, which also housed an antique shop.

“This is awesome!” she exclaimed as she sampled one thing after another.

“Why, thank you.” The owner laughed, pausing by their table. “We hoped it would be a success.” She shook her head. “Everybody thought we were crazy. We’re from Charleston, South Carolina. We came out here when my husband was stationed in the air force base at San Antonio, and stayed. We’d seen another tearoom, way north, almost in Dallas, and we were so impressed with it that we thought we might try one of our own. Neither of us knew a thing about restaurants, but we learned, with help from our staff.” She shook her head. “Never dreamed we’d have this kind of success,” she added, looking around. “It’s quite a dream come true.”

“That cameo,” Maddie said hesitantly, nodding toward a display case close by. “Does it have a story?”

“A sad one. The lady who owned it said it was handed down in her family for five generations. Finally there was nobody to leave it to. She fell on hard times and asked me to sell it for her.” She sighed. “She died a month ago.” She opened the case with a key and pulled out the cameo, handing it to Maddie. It was black lacquer with a beautiful black-haired Spanish lady painted on it. She had laughing black eyes and a sweet smile. “She was so beautiful.”

“It was the great-great-grandmother of the owner. They said a visiting artist made it and gave it to her. She and her husband owned a huge ranch, from one of those Spanish land grants. Pity there’s nobody to keep the legend going.”

“Oh, but there is.” Cort took it from the woman and handed it to Maddie. “Put it on the tab, if you will,” he told the owner. “I can’t think of anyone who’ll take better care of her.”

“No, you can’t,” Maddie protested, because she saw the price tag.

“I can,” Cort said firmly. “It was a family legacy. It still is.” His dark eyes stared meaningfully into hers. “It can be handed down, to your own children. You might have a daughter who’d love it one day.”

Maddie’s heart ran wild. She looked into Cort’s dark eyes and couldn’t turn away.

“I’ll put the ticket with lunch,” the owner said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad she’ll have a home,” she added gently.

“Can you write down the woman’s name who sold it to you?” Maddie asked. “I want to remember her, too.”

“That I can. How about some buttermilk pie? It’s the house specialty,” she added with a grin.

“I’d love some.”

“Me, too,” Cort said.

Maddie touched the beautiful cheek of the cameo’s subject. “I should sculpt a fairy who looks like her.”

“Yes, you should,” Cort agreed at once. “And show it with the cameo.”

She nodded. “How sad,” she said, “to be the last of your family.”

“I can almost guarantee that you won’t be the last of yours,” he said in a breathlessly tender tone.

She looked up into his face and her whole heart was in her eyes.

He had to fight his first impulse, which was to drag her across the table into his arms and kiss the breath out of her.

She saw that hunger in him and was fascinated that she seemed to have inspired it. He’d said that she was plain and uninteresting. But he was looking at her as if he thought her the most beautiful woman on earth.

“Dangerous,” he teased softly, “looking at me like that in a public place.”

“Huh?” She caught her breath as she realized what he was saying. She laughed nervously, put the beautiful cameo beside her plate and smiled at him. “Thank you, for the cameo.”

“My pleasure. Eat up. We’ve still got a long drive ahead of us!”

Jacobsville, Texas, was a place Maddie had heard of all her life, but she’d never seen it before. In the town square, there was a towering statue of Big John Jacobs, the founder of Jacobsville, for whom Jacobs County was named. Legend had it that he came to Texas from Georgia after the Civil War, with a wagonload of black sharecroppers. He also had a couple of Comanche men who helped him on the ranch. It was a fascinating story, how he’d married the spunky but not so pretty daughter of a multimillionaire and started a dynasty in Texas.

Maddie shared the history with Cort as they drove down a long dirt road to the ranch, which was owned by Cy Parks. He was an odd sort of person, very reticent, with jet-black hair sprinkled with silver and piercing green eyes. He favored one of his arms, and Maddie could tell that it had been badly burned at some point. His wife was a plain little blonde woman who wore glasses and obviously adored her husband. The feeling seemed to be mutual. They had two sons who were in school, Lisa explained shyly. She was sorry she couldn’t introduce them to the visitors.

Cy Parks showed them around his ranch in a huge SUV. He stopped at one pasture and then another, grimacing at the dry grass.

“We’re having to use up our winter hay to feed them,” he said with a sigh. “It’s going to make it a very hard winter if we have to buy extra feed to carry us through.” He glanced at Cort and laughed. “You’ll make my situation a bit easier if you want to carry a couple of my young bulls home with you.”

Cort grinned, too. “I think I might manage that. Although we’re in the same situation you are. Even my sister’s husband, who runs purebred cattle in Wyoming, is having it rough. This drought is out of anybody’s experience. People are likening it to the famous Dust Bowl of the thirties.”

“There was another bad drought in the fifties,” Parks added. “When we live on the land, we always have issues with weather, even in good years. This one has been a disaster, though. It will put a lot of the family farms and ranches out of business.” He made a face. “They’ll be bought up by those damned great combines, corporate ranching, I call it. Animals pumped up with drugs, genetically altered—damned shame. Pardon the language,” he added, smiling apologetically at Maddie.

“She’s lived around cattlemen all her life,” Cort said affectionately, smiling over the back of the seat at her.

“Yes, I have.” Maddie laughed. She looked into Cort’s dark eyes and blushed. He grinned.

They stopped at the big barn on the way back and Cy led them through it to a stall in the rear. It connected to a huge paddock with plenty of feed and fresh water.

“Now this is my pride and joy,” he said, indicating a sleek, exquisite young Santa Gertrudis bull.

“That is some conformation,” Cort said, whistling. “He’s out of Red Irony, isn’t he?” he added.

Cy chuckled. “So you read the cattle journals, do you?”

“All of them. Your ranch has some of the best breeding stock in Texas. In the country, in fact.”

“So does Skylance,” Parks replied. “I’ve bought your own bulls over the years. And your father’s,” he added to Maddie. “Good stock.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“Same here,” Cort replied. He drew in a breath. “Well, if this little fellow’s up for bids, I’ll put ours in.”

“No bids. He’s yours if you want him.” He named a price that made Maddie feel faint, but Cort just smiled.

“Done,” he said, and they shook hands.

On the way back home, Maddie was still astonished at the price. “That’s a fortune,” she exclaimed.

“Worth every penny, though,” Cort assured her. “Healthy genetics make healthy progeny. We have to put new bulls on our cows every couple of years to avoid any defects. Too much inbreeding can be dangerous to the cattle and disastrous for us.”

“I guess so. Mr. Parks seems like a very nice man,” she mused.

He chuckled. “You don’t know his history, do you? He led one of the most respected groups of mercenaries in the world into small wars overseas. His friend Eb Scott still runs a world-class counterterrorism school on his ranch. He was part of the merc group, along with a couple of other citizens of Jacobsville.”

“I didn’t know!”

“He’s a good guy. Dad’s known him for years.”

“What a dangerous way to make a living, though.”

“No more dangerous than dealing with livestock,” Cort returned.

That was true. There were many pitfalls of working with cattle, the least of which was broken bones. Concussions could be, and sometimes were, fatal. You could drown in a river or be trampled...the list went on and on.

“You’re very thoughtful,” Cort remarked.

She smiled. “I was just thinking.”

“Me, too.” He turned off onto a side road that led to a park. “I want to stretch my legs for a bit. You game?”

“Of course.”

He pulled into the car park and led the way down a small bank to the nearby river. The water level was down, but flowing beautifully over mossy rocks, with mesquite trees drooping a little in the heat, but still pretty enough to catch the eye.

“It’s lovely here.”

“Yes.” He turned and pulled her into his arms, looking down into her wide eyes. “It’s very lovely here.” He bent his head and kissed her.

CHAPTER SIX

M
ADDIE

S
HEAD
WAS
swimming. She felt the blood rush to her heart as Cort riveted her to his long, hard body and kissed her as if he might never see her again. She pressed closer, wrapping her arms around him, holding on for dear life.

His mouth tasted of coffee. It was warm and hard, insistent as it ground into hers. She thought if she died now, it would be all right. She’d never been so happy.

She heard a soft groan from his mouth. One lean hand swept down her back and pressed her hips firmly into his. She stiffened a little. She didn’t know much about men, but she was a great reader. The contours of his body had changed quite suddenly.

“Nothing to worry about,” he whispered into her mouth. “Just relax...”

She did. It was intoxicating. His free hand went under her blouse and expertly unclasped her bra to give free rein to his searching fingers. They found her breast and teased the nipple until it went hard. He groaned and bent his head, putting his mouth right over it, over the cloth. She arched up to him, so entranced that she couldn’t even find means to protest.

“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, yes...!”

Her hands tangled in his thick black hair, tugging it closer. She arched backward, held by his strong arms as he fed on the softness of her breast under his demanding mouth. His hand at her back was more insistent now, grinding her against the growing hardness of his body.

She was melting, dying, starving to death. She wanted him to take off her clothes; she wanted to lie down with him and she wanted something, anything that would ease the terrible ache in her young body.

And just when she was certain that it would happen, that he wasn’t going to stop, a noisy car pulled into the car park above and a car door slammed.

She jerked back from him, tugging down her blouse, shivering at the interruption. His eyes were almost black with hunger. He cursed under his breath, biting his lip as he fought down the need that almost bent him over double.

From above there were children’s voices, laughing and calling to each other. Maddie stood with her back to him, her arms wrapped around her body, while she struggled with wild excitement, embarrassment and confusion. He didn’t like her. He thought she was ugly. But he’d kissed her as if he were dying for her mouth. It was one big puzzle...

She felt his big, warm hands on her shoulders. “Don’t sweat it,” he said in a deep, soft tone. “Things happen.”

She swallowed and forced a smile. “Right.”

He turned her around, tipping her red face up to his eyes. He searched them in a silence punctuated with the screams and laughter of children. She was very pretty like that, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her face shy, timid. He was used to women who demanded. Aggressive women. Even Odalie, when he’d kissed her once, had been very outspoken about what she liked and didn’t like. Maddie simply...accepted.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said softly. “Everything’s all right. But we should probably go now. It’s getting late.”

She nodded. He took her small hand in his, curled his fingers into hers and drew her with him along the dirt path that led back up to the parking lot.

Two bedraggled parents were trying to put out food in plastic containers on a picnic table, fighting the wind, which was blowing like crazy in the sweltering heat. They glanced at the couple and grinned.

Cort grinned back. There were three children, all under school age, one in his father’s arms. They looked happy, even though they were driving a car that looked as if it wouldn’t make it out of the parking lot.

“Nice day for a picnic,” Cort remarked.

The father made a face. “Not so much, but we’ve got a long drive ahead of us and it’s hard to sit in a fast-food joint with this company.” He indicated the leaping, running toddlers. He laughed. “Tomorrow, they’ll be hijacking my car,” he added with an ear-to-ear smile, “so we’re enjoying it while we can.”

“Nothing like kids to make a home a home,” the mother commented.

“Nice looking kids, too,” Cort said.

“Very nice,” Maddie said, finally finding her voice.

“Thanks,” the mother said. “They’re a handful, but we don’t mind.”

She went back to her food containers, and the father went running after the toddlers, who were about to climb down the bank.

“Nice family,” Cort remarked as they reached his car.

“Yes. They seemed so happy.”

He glanced down at her as he stopped to open the passenger door. He was thoughtful. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were soft and full of secrets. “In you go.”

She got in, fastened her seat belt without any prompting and smiled all the way back home.

Things were going great, until they got out of the car in front of Maddie’s house. Pumpkin had found a way out of the hen enclosure. He spotted Cort and broke into a halting run, with his head down and his feathers ruffled.

“No!” Maddie yelled. “Pumpkin, no!”

She tried to head him off, but he jumped at her and she turned away just in time to avoid spurs in her face. “Cort, run! It’s okay, just run!” she called when he hesitated.

He threw his hands up and darted toward his car. “You have to do something about that damned rooster, Maddie!” he called back.

“I know,” she wailed. “I will, honest! I had fun. Thanks so much!”

He threw up his hands and dived into the car. He started it and drove off just before Pumpkin reached him.

“You stupid chicken! I’m going to let Ben eat you, I swear I am!” she raged.

But when he started toward her, she ran up the steps, into the house and slammed the door.

She opened her cell phone and called her foreman.

“Ben, can you please get Pumpkin back into the hen lot and try to see where he got out? Be sure to wear your chaps and carry a shield,” she added.

“Need to eat that rooster, Maddie,” he drawled.

“I know.” She groaned. “Please?”

There was a long sigh. “All right. One more time...” He hung up.

Great-Aunt Sadie gave her a long look. “Pumpkin got out again?”

“Yes. There must be a hole in the fence or something,” she moaned. “I don’t know how in the world he does it!”

“Ben will find a way to shut him in, don’t worry. But you are going to have to do something, you know. He’s dangerous.”

“I love him,” Maddie said miserably.

“Well, sometimes things we love don’t love us back and should be made into chicken and dumplings,” Sadie mused with pursed lips.

Maddie made a face at her. She opened her shoulder bag and pulled out a box. “I want to show you something. Cort bought it for me.”

“Cort’s buying you presents?” Sadie exclaimed.

“It’s some present, too,” Maddie said with a flushed smile.

She opened the box. There, inside, was the hand-painted cameo of the little Spanish lady, with a card that gave all the information about the woman, now deceased, who left it with the antiques dealer.

“She’s lovely,” Sadie said, tracing the face with a forefinger very gently.

“Read the card.” Maddie showed it to her.

When Sadie finished reading it, she was almost in tears. “How sad, to be the last one in your family.”

“Yes. But this will be handed down someday.” She was remembering the family at the picnic tables and Cort’s strange smile, holding hands with him, kissing him. “Someday,” she said again, and she sounded as breathless as she felt.

Sadie didn’t ask any questions. But she didn’t have to. Maddie’s bemused expression told her everything she needed to know. Apparently Maddie and Cort were getting along very well, all of a sudden.

* * *

C
ORT
WALKED
INTO
the house muttering about the rooster.

“Trouble again?” Shelby asked. She was curled up on the sofa watching the news, but she turned off the television when she saw her son. She smiled, dark-eyed and still beautiful.

“The rooster,” he sighed. He tossed his hat into a chair and dropped down into his father’s big recliner. “I bought us a bull. He’s very nice.”

“From Cy Parks?”

He nodded. “He’s quite a character.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I bought Maddie a cameo,” he added. “In that tearoom halfway between here and Jacobsville. It’s got an antiques store in with it.” He shook his head. “Beautiful thing. It’s hand-painted...a pretty Spanish lady with a fan, enameled. She had a fit over it. The seller died recently and had no family.”

“Sad. But it was nice of you to buy it for Maddie.”

He pursed his lips. “When you met Dad, you said you didn’t get along.”

She shivered dramatically. “That’s putting it mildly. He hated me. Or he seemed to. But when my mother, your grandmother, died, I was alone in a media circus. They think she committed suicide and she was a big-name movie star, you see. So there was a lot of publicity. I was almost in hysterics when your father showed up out of nowhere and managed everything.”

“Well!”

“I was shocked. He’d sent me home, told me he had a girlfriend and broke me up with Danny. Not that I needed breaking-up, Danny was only pretending to be engaged to me to make King face how he really felt. But it was fireworks from the start.” She peered at him through her thick black eyelashes. “Sort of the way it was with you and Maddie, I think.”

“It’s fireworks, now, too. But of a different sort,” he added very slowly.

“Oh?” She didn’t want to pry, but she was curious.

“I’m confused. Maddie isn’t pretty. She can’t sing or play anything. But she can paint and sculpt and she’s sharp about people.” He grimaced. “Odalie is beautiful, like the rising sun, and she can play any instrument and sing like an angel.”

“Accomplishments and education don’t matter as much as personality and character,” his mother replied quietly. “I’m not an educated person, although I’ve taken online courses. I made my living modeling. Do you think I’m less valuable to your father than a woman with a college degree and greater beauty?”

“Goodness, no!” he exclaimed at once.

She smiled gently. “See what I mean?”

“I think I’m beginning to.” He leaned back. “It was a good day.”

“I’m glad.”

“Except for that damned rooster,” he muttered. “One of these days...!”

She laughed.

He was about to call Maddie, just to talk, when his cell phone rang.

He didn’t recognize the number. He put it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Cort,” Odalie’s voice purred in his ear. “Guess what, I’m home! Want to come over for supper tonight?”

He hesitated. Things had just gotten complicated.

* * *

M
ADDIE
HALF
EXPECTED
Cort to phone her, after their lovely day together, but he didn’t. The next morning, she heard a car pull up in the driveway and went running out. But it wasn’t Cort. It was John Everett.

She tried not to let her disappointment show. “Hi!” she said. “Would you like a cup of very nice European coffee from a fancy European coffeemaker?” she added, grinning.

He burst out laughing. “I would. Thanks. It’s been a hectic day and night.”

“Has it? Why?” she asked as they walked up the steps.

“I had to drive up to Dallas-Fort Worth airport to pick up Odalie yesterday.”

Her heart did a nosedive. She’d hoped against hope that the other woman would stay in Italy, marry her voice teacher, get a job at the opera house, anything but come home, and especially right now! She and Cort were only just beginning to get to know each other. It wasn’t fair!

“How is she?” she asked, her heart shattering.

“Good,” he said heavily. “She and the voice teacher disagreed, so she’s going to find someone in this country to take over from him.” He grimaced. “I don’t know who. Since she knows more than the voice trainers do, I don’t really see the point in it. She can’t take criticism.”

She swallowed, hard, as she went to work at the coffee machine. “Has Cort seen her?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, sitting down at the little kitchen table. “He came over for supper last night. They went driving.”

She froze at the counter. She didn’t let him see her face, but her stiff back was a good indication of how she’d received the news.

“I’m really sorry,” he said gently. “But I thought you should know before you heard gossip.”

She nodded. Tears were stinging her eyes, but she hid them. “Thanks, John.”

He drew in a long breath. “She doesn’t love him,” he said. “He’s just a habit she can’t give up. I don’t think he loves her, either, really. It’s like those crushes we get on movie stars. Odalie is an image, not someone real who wants to settle down and have kids and live on a ranch. She can’t stand cattle!”

She started the coffee machine, collected herself, smiled and turned around. “Good thing your parents don’t mind them,” she said.

“And I’ve told her so. Repeatedly.” He studied her through narrowed eyes. His thick blond hair shone like pale yellow diamonds in the overhead light. He was so good-looking, she thought. She wished she could feel for him what she felt for Cort.

“People can’t help being who they are,” she replied quietly.

“You’re wise for your years,” he teased.

She laughed. “Not so wise, or I’d get out of the cattle business.” She chuckled. “After we have coffee, want to have another go at explaining genetics to me? I’m a lost cause, but we can try.”

“You’re not a lost cause, and I’d love to try.”

* * *

O
DALIE
WAS
IRRITABLE
and not trying to hide it. “What’s the matter with you?” she snapped at Cort. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

He glanced at her and grimaced. “Sorry. We’ve got a new bull coming. I’m distracted.”

Her pale blue eyes narrowed. “More than distracted, I think. What’s this I hear about you taking that Lane girl with you to buy the new bull?”

He gave her a long look and didn’t reply.

She cleared her throat. Cort was usually running after her, doing everything he could to make her happy, make her smile. She’d come home to find a stranger, a man she didn’t know. Her beauty hadn’t interested the voice trainer; her voice hadn’t really impressed him. She’d come home with a damaged ego and wanted Cort to fix it by catering to her. That hadn’t happened. She’d invited him over today for lunch and he’d eaten it in a fog. He actually seemed to not want to be with her, and that was new and scary.

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