Rescued by a Ranger Page 17

  Caught between hope and dread, he stepped inside. “Hello?”

  “In here.” The voice from the living room was painfully familiar, although the woman seated on his couch was slightly less recognizable.

  Everything he’d thought or felt in the past couple of months collided in his brain; questions and recriminations and declarations that he’d missed her tangled into an inarticulate mass, leaving him only with the inane, “Your hair sure grows fast.” The bright red was beautiful.

  “I can’t wait until it’s long again,” she said wistfully. “That short, bobbed cut was never me.”

  An awkward pause followed. He wasn’t sure what to say to the reminder that she hadn’t been completely genuine.

  “I have Josie,” she informed him suddenly. “I mean, not with me. She’s staying at Bryce’s, where the two of them will probably play video games nonstop. But the judge ruled in my favor. We won! She’s safe.”

  “That’s wonderful.” He wanted to pick her up and swing her around in his arms. He settled for smiling.

  “It probably helped that Eileen had a total meltdown in court, viciously laying into her lawyer, the judge and her husband. Another factor in my favor is how distracted Phillip and his attorneys are by charges that have come up against him. Saving his own ass is always going to take precedence over fighting for his granddaughter. Thank you, Zane.”

  “Just doing my job. I’m thrilled for you and Josie, but you didn’t have to drive all this way to tell me. You could have called.” It was a personal question disguised as an unrelated observation; he’d been learning the art from his mother.

  Heather stood. “I’m in town for a number of reasons. I interviewed for a job, and I’ve been looking at some apartments.”

  “Here?” The floor seemed to tilt beneath his feet. Getting over Heather was impossible enough when she’d been in Houston. If she was going to be local, he would never be able to move on. Do you want to? There was also the question of what she wanted.

  “Did I ever tell you I was an art major?”

  He shook his head mutely, still trying to absorb the possibility that she might be moving to the Hill Country.

  “I was a docent at a museum when I met my late husband. Aside from diligently working on a number of art fundraisers, I haven’t been able to use my degree much. But that’s going to change. I’ll be working at a gallery about twelve miles away. Josie is beside herself with excitement. Tess is, too. She swears Josie has a future as a prima ballerina and Tess wants credit someday for ‘discovering’ her.” As Heather wound down, she began fidgeting, twisting her hands together. “What about you?”

  “I don’t know anything about ballerinas.”

  She swallowed. “No. How would you feel about us being around? I know it’s not always easy to tell, but I’m a fairly old-fashioned girl. I believe in family and community and getting to know one’s neighbors. In that spirit, I thought I should come over and introduce myself.” She walked toward him, extending her hand. “Heather Conner. I, uh, went back to my maiden name.”

  He met her halfway. “Nice to meet you.” Touching her in this small, platonic way was torturous bliss. He felt like a starving man who’d just been given a bite of his favorite food—but only one bite. The threat of famine still clung.

  “Zane?” Although she withdrew her hand, she stepped even closer. “I know you have reason to hate me—”

  “I don’t hate you.” He’d had a lot of time for his anger to subside. “I understand. You were trying to protect your daughter.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me?” she asked hoarsely.

  How could he not? As they’d discussed multiple times, he believed in fresh starts, the ability for people to learn from their mistakes and change. Not that he wanted her to change too drastically—he’d fallen in love with the woman she was.

  He looked her in the eye. “I love you.”

  “Zane.” Her lips parted in an expression of shocked joy.

  “I’ve tried to fight it since you left, but nothing’s worked, so I might as well face it. And forgiveness is part of love.” As time with his formerly estranged daughter had taught him, relationships could be repaired if people truly wanted to make amends and were willing to work for it.

  Heather flew into his arms. “I love you, too. But I would understand if you need more time to think about our relationship. I had planned to ask you on a no-pressure date to find out if our feelings had changed, just one night to see how it could be between us,” she said, echoing back his own past words.

  “A single night? Not a chance,” he murmured against her mouth. “I know exactly how good it will be between us, and refuse to agree to anything so temporary. You’re just going to have to stick around this time.”

  She pushed up on her toes to kiss him back. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  * * *

  “CONSIDERING IT’S BEEN weeks since you guys moved back here,” Eden scolded, “I can’t believe this is your first trip to The Twisted Jalapeño! It’s my favorite restaurant.”

  The refinanced and remodeled Jalapeño had enjoyed a grand reopening in May. Grace Torres was running the place with her new fiancé, another hotshot chef. Ben had told Zane last week, “They’re so much alike, it’s a wonder they don’t kill each other. Not like me and Amy. We’re more a case of opposites attracting.”

  Josie leaned forward in her chair to swipe a tortilla chip through the salsa. “This looks funny. Shouldn’t it be red?”

  “Not always,” her mother said. “This is salsa verde. Broaden your horizons.”

  When Josie asked what a “horizons” was and Eden tried to explain, Zane grinned inwardly, wondering if his future stepdaughter had found her new word of the week. Since he’d yet to propose, he supposed it was technically premature to think of Josie as his daughter, but he couldn’t help it. He was too damn excited about popping the question tonight and spending the rest of his life with Heather.

  It wasn’t a question of two like-minded people finding each other or two opposites completing one another. For him, it was about understanding and acceptance. They knew each other. They admired one another’s qualities and tolerated each other’s quirks. He finally had a relationship in which two people were unreservedly honest and connected.

  “When do we get to open presents?” Josie asked.

  Heather, the guest of honor, laughed. “You weren’t this impatient on your birthday. We should wait until after the food.”

  “What?” Zane didn’t think he could wait that long to give her the ring box in his pocket.

  “Not you, too,” Heather scolded. “At the very least, we have to wait for the rest of the party to arrive!”

  Tess would be coming, of course, as well as Kelsey and Dave Comer and Kelsey’s cousin Bryce. Because Heather spoke so fondly of the man, Zane had worried he might feel a twinge of jealousy when he met Bryce Callahan. Surprisingly, he’d liked the software innovator a lot—although, for the whole day after they’d been introduced, Zane found himself battling the inexplicable urge to pepper conversation with “dude” and “pshaw.” The computer genius wasn’t what he’d pictured.

  “Can we go up front to watch for everyone?” Josie asked. “Eden can come with me.”

  “If she wants to,” Zane allowed. “But you do know that staring at the parking lot isn’t going to make them get here any faster?” Just like all the times he’d pulled the diamond ring out to look at it at home wouldn’t bring his wedding day any closer. Still, the rush it gave him was downright addictive.

  Heather watched the girls thread their way between tables, then stiffened. “Oh, no.”

  “What’s wrong?” He immediately craned his head, scanning the room to locate the source of her distress. For the past month, she’d been the picture of happiness, and he wanted tonight to be perfect.

  “The PTA president just stopped Josie to say hi. That woman has scary evil powers. Ever since I went to the school to register Josie f
or kindergarten next fall, the head of the PTA has been signing me up to chair projects.”

  “Have you tried telling her no?” he teased.

  “Ha! Spoken like a man who’s never had to deal with her. If she were in charge of Eden’s high school PTA, you’d be singing a different tune.” Heather slid down in her chair, ducking her head so her bright coppery hair partially obscured her face. He didn’t have the heart to point out that hair like hers was a natural beacon. “Does she see me? Don’t look directly at her! Be discreet.”

  “Bad news,” he said. “She’s coming this way.”

  “Damn. Look, if at any point in the conversation, you see me about to nod, will you rescue me?”

  His heart swelled with love. Did she know that, in a lot of ways, she’d rescued him? “Always.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Bet on a Cowboy by Julie Benson!

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  Chapter One

  “He’s married. I’m beginning to think this season is cursed.” Maggie Sullivan stared at the wedding picture of Rory McAlister, Devlin Designs’ cowboy model, on the Twin Creeks Ranch website. Tall, dark-haired and built like only a real cowboy could be, he’d have been perfect. Now here she was, two weeks from the start of taping for her reality show, Finding Mrs. Right, and they were short one key component—a bachelor.

  Samantha, Maggie’s assistant director, turned from her computer monitor. “Who’s married?”

  “Rory McAlister. The man we hoped would be this season’s bachelor.”

  “Isn’t it Kate’s job to check into that?”

  “She’s got the flu, and since we have to sign a new bachelor ASAP, I get to play casting director.” Maggie frowned. What luck. She’d also get to deliver the bad news about Rory to her boss. Right now having the flu sounded pretty good.

  When their quarterback bachelor unretired in midseason, the powers that be had decided to capitalize on the current popularity of cowboys, and hoped to sign Devlin Designs’ gorgeous new model as the next bachelor. The man was featured in every popular fashion magazine, and his rugged good looks were a hot conversation topic among women around office watercoolers all over the country. Maggie had been sent to research the idea, which led her to the unfortunate news of his marriage.

  Unfortunate for her, that is, not for Rory.

  “What’re we going to do now that our prime candidate is off the market?”

  “I’m working on plan B even as we speak.” However, all she’d come up with was an actor dressed up as a cowboy, but they needed authenticity. There was something about real cowboys. No one could define it exactly, but everyone knew when it was missing.

  Think. She fingered the sterling-silver frame holding the last picture of her and her mother together. What would her mom think of her only daughter, an upstate New York farm girl, working on a reality show in L.A.?

  I know it’s not what you would’ve wished for me, Mom, but the job will get me what I want out of life.

  “How about a rodeo cowboy?” Samantha asked as she rolled her desk chair across Maggie’s pristinely organized office to join her at her computer.

  “The National Finals are two months away. Anyone with a name is gearing up for that.” Maggie rubbed the back of her neck, trying to loosen the tension knot.

  When she scrolled further down the ranch’s web page, a picture of the wedding party appeared. Beside Maggie, Samantha sighed and pointed at the screen. “Look at the best man. He’s too good for words.”

  Slightly taller than Rory, the man had charisma that leaped off the screen. The tux fit him to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders. The sun highlighted the golden tones in his hair.

  “He’s definitely what great dreams are made of.” Maggie scanned the copy beside the picture. Hope eternal burst through her. “He’s Rory’s brother, Griffin. Could that be more perfect? We can still capitalize on Rory’s popularity if his brother is our bachelor.” She could see the trailer now: Rory McAlister is off the marriage market, but don’t worry. He has a brother. Tune in every week to Finding Mrs. Right, and meet Griffin McAlister!

  She frowned as another thought occurred to her. “How could a man this gorgeous be available?”

  Samantha clicked her ruby-red fingernail against the monitor. “Look at the wedding photos. Each one shows him dancing or cuddling with a different woman. No way is that guy in a serious relationship.”

  “I have to be sure.”

  “Then call him and ask.”

  Why not, since plan B stunk and plan C failed to materialize? Maggie clicked on the Contact Us page. “What do I have to lose?”

  “Exactly. We can’t be any worse off than we are now.”

  “Why don’t I find that comforting?” Maggie took a minute to compose her thoughts and study the Twin Creeks website, discovering the ranch offered horseback riding tours and other tourist activities. She’d lead with what a great opportunity being on the show was, emphasizing how the publicity would bring more visitors to the ranch and increase business. Then she’d tell Griffin how wonderful the bachelorettes were.

  With the conversation and her pitch mapped out, she located the ranch’s phone number, picked up her iPhone and dialed. “Cross your fingers.”

  Samantha crossed her fingers and held up her hands. Then she crossed her legs. “Extra insurance never hurts.”

  A smooth feminine voice answered, throwing Maggie off stride. Calm down. Just because a woman answers the phone doesn’t mean Griffin’s married. She could be Rory’s pretty little wife, or a family member. Barreling forward, Maggie explained she had business to discuss with Griffin, and asked to speak with him. A minute later, she had his cell phone number. Then as an afterthought, she blurted out, “I know this is an odd question, but is Griffin married or engaged?”

  Soft laughter floated over the phone lines. “Believe it or not, that’s not an unusual question, and no, he’s not married, or even dating anyone seriously.”

  Maggie ended the call. “He’s available.”

  “That’s good news,” Samantha said.

  She punched in Griffin’s cell number. When he answered, his low sexy voice rippled through her. His voice was as good as his looks.

  “Hello, Griffin. I’m Maggie Sullivan, the director on the reality show Finding Mrs. Right. We’re looking for a bachelor this season—”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Being on the show would be great publicity—”

  “I’ve got horses to see to.” Then he hung up.

  Maggie stared at her phone. Their conversation had gone much better in her head.

  “He hung up on me.” She sat there, unsure of how to proceed. “He wouldn’t even let me make the pitch.”

  “Call him back.”

  “What makes you think the second time will go any better than the first?”

  “Divine intervention?” Samantha said, as she pointed upward.

  “I think the Lord might be a l
ittle busy.” But knowing she couldn’t give up, Maggie called again. This time when Griffin answered, she blurted out, “Don’t hang up. Give me a chance to outline my—”

  Click.

  Maggie clutched her phone so hard her fingers tingled. “Maybe we don’t want Griffin McAlister on the show. He definitely needs to work on his social skills—he hung up on me again.”

  “They say the third time’s the charm,” Samantha said encouragingly.

  “The best indication for future behavior is past behavior, and I’m sensing a pattern here.”

  “Then email him.”

  Maggie shook her head. “He’ll just delete the message without reading it. I need to see Griffin in person. It’ll be harder to dismiss me if I’m standing in front of him.” She tapped her neatly manicured nail against her desk. “I need to develop the right approach, because he won’t give me much time. I have to hook him immediately.”

  Samantha grinned and pointed to a photo of Griffin surrounded by women. “I know exactly what will work. Start with showing him the bachelorettes’ photos. That’ll get his attention.”

  “Are you sure?” Maggie still believed leading with the publicity for the ranch was best, but what she knew about men could be written on a matchbook cover. Samantha, on the other hand, could write a three-book series and have material left over.

  “After seeing him with all those women? Absolutely.”

  But before Maggie decided, her cell phone belted out “Defying Gravity.” Glancing at the touch screen revealed the number of the fertility clinic she’d contacted. Once the years started zooming by and her eggs grew older, with no marital prospects on the horizon, Maggie had realized she had two choices—never have children or be a single parent.

  After tossing out a quick “I’ve got to take this call” to Samantha, she answered her phone. As she jotted down notes regarding the cost of the various procedures she would undergo for in vitro fertilization, she kept her responses vague and to a minimum.