“Hot?”
“I’m not blind, Kel. Even if you are.”
“I’m not blind, either,” he snapped and took another hard pull of his beer.
“Good to know.” Vaughn sat up and braced his elbows on his knees. “So you going to do anything about it?”
The taste of Irina rose up in his mind. The feel of her body pressed to his. Her breath on his cheek. The scent of her hair. The silk of her skin. He took another drink of his beer and let the icy brew dampen the fires inside. He really didn’t need his brother poking at him over Irina when his own mind and body were doing just fine on that front. “What the hell, Vaughn?”
He held up one hand. “Fine. I’ll back off.”
“Thank you.”
“But,” he added, and Kellan frowned at him, “all those years ago, you two had something.”
“How do you know?”
“Everybody knew.”
So much for a secret affair. “It was a long time ago.”
“True. But according to gossip and our baby sister, Irina’s still single. So are you.”
Kellan’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not looking, Vaughn.”
“Because of Shea?” Vaughn’s voice was a whisper.
Kellan shot off the couch like he was on a spring. It had been eight years since his wife had died in that car accident. Eight years and he still didn’t want to think about that day. Remember the staggering loss. Remember that touching Irina only a year after that loss had made him feel like a damn cheat. “Don’t talk about her.”
“A lot of rules,” his brother said softly. “No talk of Irina. Shea, either. What am I allowed to say to you?”
“How about good-night?” Kellan snapped. “Or even better, I’m headed back to Magnolia Acres. Or even better, Dallas.”
Vaughn laughed. “Yeah, not happening. I’m here for a couple more days. Have some friends I want to see while I’m in Royal. Now that the services and the will reading are done, I’m free.”
“Why are you not pissed?” Kellan demanded suddenly. “About Dad leaving everything to Miranda? Why isn’t that burning your ass?”
Vaughn’s features smoothed out into a blank slate. Only his eyes flashed to let Kellan know he wasn’t as disinterested as he was pretending to be. “Because I don’t want Buck’s money. I made my own way with no help from our father. It’s too damn late for him to do anything for me. So let Miranda have it. I hope she chokes on it.”
“I call bull.” Kellan pointed his beer at Vaughn. “Maybe you don’t want the money, but I know losing Blackwood Hollow to that woman has to be eating at you. That’s family land, Vaughn. It’s our land. Our ranch. Our damned legacy.”
Studying his own beer, Vaughn was silent for a long minute or two. Finally, though, he said, “Being pissed won’t change anything, Kel. So accept the fact that our dad was a dick and move the hell on already.”
“No.”
Vaughn gave another short laugh and lifted his beer in a toast. “Fine. You go ahead. Charge into the dragon’s den and try to come out with the magic sword or whatever. But don’t expect me to help you do it.”
Kellan said, “Just don’t get in my way.”
“Deal.” Vaughn turned for the door. “Now, I’m going to Dixie’s place. I’m too tired to keep jousting with you. Good luck on your next caper, 007.”
Life, Kellan thought, might have been a lot easier if he’d been an only child.
The next morning, Kellan was working at his ranch, wearing some jeans, a dark green flannel shirt and a heavy brown leather jacket. His old boots were scuffed and worn, and stepping into them made him feel complete somehow. You could take a man off the ranch, dress him in a suit and toss him into a city, but it seemed you couldn’t take the Texas out of him.
He was tired, though. The argument with Vaughn bothered him, but it was that kiss with Irina that had kept him awake most of the night. He’d played it over and over in his head for hours, like a damn movie on constant rewind and replay. He hadn’t been able to turn it off. To ignore what seeing her again, touching her again, had done to his body. So a night of self-imposed torture left him squinting into the early-morning sunlight and wishing for more coffee.
Standing on the wide front porch in the cold, blustery wind, he scanned the property he’d purchased five years ago. He should probably rent it out, but the truth was, it was nice to have his own place to stay in when he was in Royal. He had a great foreman, who took care of the place while Kellan lived in Nashville, and, as an investment, the ranch couldn’t be better. The land itself was worth almost twice as much as it had been when he’d bought it and that wasn’t even counting the value of the palatial ranch house and outbuildings. Not to mention the stock—thousands of heads of cattle and horses.
But he hadn’t bought it for its financial worth. Instead, it was a touchstone of sorts. A reminder that though staying in Royal had been too much for him seven years ago, this corner of Texas was still his home. His roots ran deep here. The Blackwoods had been in this area for more than a hundred years.
Which was just one more reason why he wasn’t about to give up his family legacy to a gold digger. Just the thought of Miranda DuPree made his hackles rise and had him grinding his teeth together so hard, he was half-surprised they didn’t shatter. He’d thought Miranda was out of their lives when she and Buck divorced—and now she was back, worse than ever. “What the hell was Buck thinking?”
When a bright red Jeep zipped up the drive and came to a screeching halt almost directly in front of him, Kellan smiled in spite of the dark thoughts tumbling through his mind. His baby sister hopped out of the car and shivered in the cold wind.
“Hi, Kel,” Sophie said as she tugged her black jacket tighter around her.
People didn’t usually think of Texas as cold-weather country. But winters could be harsh and even though snow was rare, the icy wind could cut like a knife.
“What’re you doing here so early?”
She waved one hand, smiled, and Kellan realized what a beauty his sister had become. Just an inch or so shorter than Irina, Sophie had long auburn hair, brown eyes and a curvy body that Kellan really didn’t want to acknowledge. As far as he was concerned, there was no man good enough for Sophie—so she should just be alone. If they were Catholic, he’d be voting for a convent.
“I’ve got a ten o’clock appointment at the Courtyard. My client wants to look at the antiques at Priceless.”
Sophie, at only twenty-seven, ran a popular YouTube channel on style, was a licensed interior decorator and had her own shop in Royal. And as a designer, of course she would love shopping at the Courtyard. The place had grown from a single rehabbed barn housing antiques into a series of eclectic businesses, including a few artisans and cafés.
“I saw Vaughn at the diner having coffee and he told me you’d be up and moving because when he left here last night, you were too wired to sleep.”
“Our brother’s got a big mouth,” Kellan muttered. “What’s up, Sophie?”
She sighed and flipped her hair out of her face when the wind gusted. “I couldn’t sleep last night, either. I kept thinking about the will and Miranda and us, and I guess I just wanted to talk to you. See what you think about all of it.”
He scowled and tugged his hat down firmer on his head. “I think I’m going to be going into town to talk to Kace later today. See if I can find a way to fight this will.”
“Okay, but what if he says there isn’t one?”
“Then we fight anyway,” Kellan said tightly. “Damned if we just hand over our home to Miranda.”
She nodded and smiled. “Okay, good. Because I was thinking maybe I could snoop around a little. Talk to people. See if anyone knows anything about Miranda. Gossip in Royal lives forever. Plus, I know Miranda’s come back to town more than a few times since the divorce. I mean, you and Vaughn and I, we haven’t really been spending any time at the house in years.”
True. They’d all avoided the house because they were busy avoiding Buck. Kellan lived in Nashville now, Sophie had her own house in Pine Valley and Vaughn was in Dallas these days.
“Maybe,” she continued, “there’s a reason behind Dad doing this to us. And maybe I can help find it.”
Three
Kellan looked into her eyes and saw the worry and the hurt there, and if he could, he would have reached beyond the grave to grab his father and curse him for giving Sophie pain. He knew she wanted to help him find answers and, hell, maybe she could. Women talked more easily to other women. If she could pry some secrets loose, it might give them something to use against Miranda.
“Sounds good,” he said and saw the flash of pleasure in her eyes. “Where are you going to start?”
“After my appointment, I thought I’d go to the ranch and talk to Irina.”
“No.” The one word shot from him before he could hold it back.
“Why not?”
Good question. The answer wasn’t something he wanted to share. Kellan didn’t want to risk his sister and his former lover having a private chat. God knows what Irina would have to say about him. He certainly hadn’t given her any reason to speak well about him.
“I’m going to the house later today.” That hadn’t been the plan, but plans change. “So I’ll take care of talking to Irina. Why don’t you speak to some of Miranda’s friends in town? Maybe some of the women she dragged here with her from New York.”
Sophie frowned thoughtfully. “That’s probably a good idea. I mean, she went to New York after the divorce, she probably had plenty to say about Dad when their breakup was fresh.”
It actually was a good idea. Then he had another one. If their little sister talked to Vaughn about all of this, maybe he’d change his mind. “Okay, then. And why don’t you give Vaughn a call? Tell him what we’re up to.”
“Oh, he won’t be interested.” Sophie shrugged. “Soon enough, he’ll be back in Dallas running his company. He said he doesn’t give a damn what Miranda does with her inheritance. It has nothing to do with him.”
So much for that. In a way, Kel understood the attitude. His brother had built his own fortune at Blackwood Energy Corp., so he didn’t need Buck’s money. But hell, neither did Kel. It was the damn principle of the thing that motivated Kellan. And he wished Vaughn would stick around long enough to stand with his siblings.
“Okay, then, for now, it’s you and me, baby sister.” He reached out with one arm and pulled her into a hug. She held him tight, then let go.
“I’ll let you know if I find out anything and you tell me if Irina has anything to say, okay?”
“Sure.” Nodding, he watched her hop back into her car. “And drive slower, will you?”
“Nope!” She grinned, slammed the door and gunned the engine. Whipping the red car around, she peeled off down the drive, leaving a fan of spun gravel in her wake.
“Damn it.” Sophie always drove too fast. As a teenager, she’d had her license pulled first by Buck and then by Sheriff Battle. And that hadn’t stopped her. The last time Kellan had been in town, Nathan Battle had told him that Sophie’s speeding tickets alone were paying for the remodel of the sheriff’s station.
Pushing that thought out of his mind, Kellan headed for the stables. What he needed was some hard work. Work that would keep his hands busy and free his mind to think about what his next step would be.
Though he already knew the answer.
He had to see Irina again.
“I’m meeting my friends in Royal for lunch,” Miranda said. “I’ve told them all about the Royal Diner for years and now they want to try it out in person. Would you like to join us?”
Miranda had been in Royal since a couple of days before the will reading, and in that time she and Irina had become friends. When Miranda was still married to Buck, the two women hadn’t really bonded. Irina was more shy back then, too. Less sure of herself. They actually had more in common than she would have thought. They were both divorced—though their situations were wildly different. They were both rebuilding their lives. And they both knew hidden truths about Buckley Blackwood. Each of them, in their own ways, owed Buck a lot.
It was good to be able to talk about the older man with someone who understood. Almost no one in Royal knew the real Buck.
In business, Buck had been ruthless, determined and unstoppable. But in private, the man had helped more people than anyone would guess. It really irritated Irina that his own children were clueless about that side of Buck. But she’d once promised him that she’d keep his secrets. Just because he was dead didn’t give her permission to talk. Did it?
“Thank you, Miranda,” she said. “I really appreciate it. But I think I’m going to work on my book this morning. I’d like to finish the chapter at least.”
She was so close to finishing the book she’d been driven to write. Her own personal background story was one she thought a lot of women could connect to. Maybe not the particulars of her experience, but the spirit of the story. Picking yourself up and starting over would be a clarion call to those who might be feeling hopeless.
And an agent and a publisher had believed in her, too. She’d sold her book six months ago and it was still a thrill to her. Soon, she’d be a published author and then an immigration lawyer, and her own American dream story would be complete.
Or as complete as it could be without the man she’d once believed to be the love of her life.
Miranda smiled and nodded. “I get it. And I know Buck was proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished.”
“Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot.”
“And,” Miranda added as she picked up her bag, “if you’re willing, I’d love to read some of your book.”
Irina almost choked. She hadn’t expected that rush of wild panic. Someone wanted to read what she’d written? Why was that terrifying? Soon it would be out on shelves and hopefully a lot of people would want to read it. But this was different. This was someone she knew. Yes, she’d submitted it to an agent and publisher, but that was business. Letting someone she knew and liked read it was something different.
Miranda laughed. “Okay, never mind. I can see how unnerved you are at the idea.”
“No,” Irina said, taking a step forward as she got a firm grip on the swirls of what felt like eagles in her stomach. Then she sighed. “All right, yes, I’m a little nervous at the thought. But I really would love for you to read the first chapter and tell me what you think.”
It sounded terrifying, of course. But one day soon, everyone in Royal would see it, buy it, read it. It might be a good thing to get an idea of what people would think ahead of time.
“Great!” Miranda gave her a quick hug. “I’m sure it’s wonderful, so don’t look so worried.”
Irina laughed a little. “I think worrying is what I do best.”
Smiling, Miranda said, “I’ll see you tonight. And remember, you’re not a maid here anymore, Irina. You’re a guest.”
Technically. But Miranda now owned the lovely house and Irina was Buck’s guest, not hers. So she would pitch in and help out as much as she could.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She gave a look around the great room, with its plush but homey atmosphere, and at the Christmas tree, which she personally decorated every year. “But I’ve worked here for more than seven years now. While I’m here, I’ll continue to help the housekeeper.”
Miranda studied her for a long moment. “I get that. You don’t want to be beholden to anyone. You need to steer your own path. Pay your own way.”
“Yes,” Irina said.
“You know, I think you and I are very much alike.”
Irina smiled. She’d had the same thought. “Have a good time.”
“Right.” Miranda headed for the front door. “I’ll see you later.”
Alone, Irina thought about their conversation. About the secrets she held. About promises made and about Kellan, still holding so much anger for his late father. And she made a decision.
Working on the book would have to wait. First, she had to see Kellan. Tell him things he should know.
The diner was kitschy, with the decor set firmly in the fifties—black-and-white tile floor, red faux leather booths and an actual jukebox on one wall. Lulu was charmed. The waitresses seemed to know everyone in there and the camera crew following Lulu and her friends didn’t intimidate anyone. Instead, the locals were interested, excited even.
Except for one man.
Of course, he was gorgeous. His brown eyes were flashing with irritation and his rumpled dark brown hair was a little too long. The collar of his dress shirt was unbuttoned and his dark red tie loosened. He had a sheaf of papers spread out over the table in front of him and a cup of coffee at his elbow. The hostile looks he was shooting everyone involved in her reality show left no doubt what he thought of any of them.
Well, if he wanted privacy to work, Lulu told herself, he shouldn’t have come to a diner. The scowl on his face seemed to be a permanent fixture and she wondered idly why she found that appealing. A man that inherently cranky shouldn’t be so attractive. But he certainly was. He sipped his coffee, made a note on one of the papers and then frowned again at her group and the camera crew.
Fee and the rest of the girls were oblivious, joking together about another day of shopping or perhaps a spa day at the Bellamy, where they were all staying. But Lulu couldn’t stop watching him. So she was aware when Miranda came into the diner and stopped at his table. Briefly, the scowl on his face lifted and she wondered how Miranda had managed that small miracle. While they talked, Lulu scooted out of the booth and walked up to join them. She heard her friend saying something about Buck’s will, but she missed the context because both people got quiet as soon as she arrived.
“Hi, Miranda.” She smiled at her friend, then sent a deliberate wink at the crabby man frowning at her.
“Lulu!” Miranda gave her a hug and grinned. “Did you guys have another fabulous morning of shopping?”
“We did. It was wonderful. We went back to the Courtyard shops.” They’d all enjoyed it so much the day before, they’d returned to hit the stores they’d missed on their first visit.
“And your camera crew loved it, too?” the man asked snidely, inserting himself into the conversation. “Get every little purchase covered, did they? Want to make sure America sees you spending your exes’ money.”
“I’m sorry?” she asked, pointedly meeting his less-than-friendly stare.
“That would be nice, but I doubt you are,” he said.
“Um,” Miranda interrupted, confusion written plainly on her features. “Lulu Shepard, this is my ex-husband’s lawyer, Kace LeBlanc. Kace, Lulu.”
“A lawyer,” Lulu said with feigned, over-the-top sorrow. “That explains it.”
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