Dreams of Forever
* * *
“I’m glad you took me up on my offer to stay the night, McKinnon,” Corey said, handing the young man a glass of some of his finest scotch. “Although you’re a skilled horseman, it’s too dangerous for you to attempt going back down that mountain this late. It would have been dark before you got to the bottom.” He then chuckled before tacking on, “And Morning Star and Martin would have my hide if anything were to happen to their oldest son.”
McKinnon grinned knowing that was true. He had a very special relationship with his mother and father, as well as his three younger brothers. Matthew was twenty-seven, Jason was twenty-five and Daniel was twenty-three, and all three were unattached with no thoughts of settling down any time soon.
It was hard for McKinnon to believe at times that Martin Quinn was actually his stepfather and not his biological father. He was in his teens when he’d been told that his natural father, a Creole of African-American descent, had died in a car accident before he was born, and that a pregnant Morning Star—a member of the Blackfoot Indian tribe, had gone to work for the esteemed Judge Martin Quinn as a bookkeeper, only to end up falling in love and marrying him before the child was born.
“So, how are things with the horse business?”
Corey’s question pulled McKinnon’s thoughts back. “They would be a lot better if I can get Casey to come work for me. I know I blew things yesterday but I had a reason for it. You know how I feel about another woman living at my ranch.”
Corey nodded. Yes, he did know but then they weren’t talking about just any other woman—they were talking about his daughter. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew about the heated sparks that always went off when McKinnon and Casey were within a few feet of each other. In the past they had pretty much kept their distance but things wouldn’t be quite that easy here in Montana, especially since Corey and McKinnon’s parents were the best of friends.
“So how are you going to talk her into it?” he asked, knowing that McKinnon would make an attempt. When it came to the art of persuasion, biological or not, he was Martin Quinn’s son and Martin hadn’t moved up the ranks of powerhouse attorney to circuit judge in these parts without his persuasive nature.
Corey smiled. Poor Morning Star hadn’t known what had hit her all those years ago when she’d been talked into a marriage of convenience that had ended up being anything but that.
“Don’t know yet, but I won’t give up,” McKinnon said. “I promised Jamal that I would have that horse ready for him this fall, and I intend to do just that.”
“I hate to interrupt such important male conversation, but dinner is ready,” said a beautiful Abby Winters Westmoreland as she stuck her head in the door and smiled. “And Casey will be down in a minute.”
“We’ll be there in a second, sweetheart,” Corey said, smiling back at the woman he loved to distraction—had always loved.
McKinnon watched the loving exchange between Corey and Abby, which was similar to what he always saw between his parents. Some people were lucky to find their soul mate and spend the rest of their lives together in wedded bliss. He had long ago accepted that he wouldn’t be one of the lucky ones. His future was set without any permanent woman in it.
* * *
Casey hurried down the stairs knowing she was already a few minutes late for dinner. One of her brothers had phoned to see how she was doing. Even all the way from Texas, Clint and Cole were trying to keep tabs on her. She smiled thinking she was used to it and although she would never admit it to them, it felt good knowing they still cared about her well-being. Born triplets, the three of them had a rather close relationship, and by her being the youngest, Clint and Cole made it their business to try and be her keepers.
She moved quickly to the dining room and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw McKinnon sitting at the table. She tried to mask her displeasure at seeing him as he and her father stood when she entered the room. “McKinnon, I’m surprised you’re still here,” she said, trying to keep the cutting edge out of her voice.
She knew the smile that he gave her was only meant to infuriate her, but before he could respond her father offered an explanation. “It would have been too dangerous for him to try going back down the mountain this late, so I invited him to spend the night,” Corey said, once both men sat back down after she took a seat.
“Oh.” Casey tried not to show the cringe that passed through her body in knowing that McKinnon would be there all night. Just the thought that they would be sleeping under the same roof was nothing she wanted to think about. So she didn’t. As soon as grace was said and the food passed around, she tried concentrating on something else. “Everything looks delicious, Abby.”
Abby smiled over at her. “Thanks, Casey.” The older woman then turned her attention to everyone at the table. “I got a call from Stone and Madison today. They’re in Canada on a book-signing tour and said to tell everyone hello. They hope to be able to swing by here in a few weeks.”
“That would be wonderful,” Casey said, meaning it. She’d discovered that there had been only two females born in the Westmoreland family in her generation—her and Delaney. Delaney lived out of the country with her desert sheikh, but whenever she came to the States she made a point of contacting Casey, and had even traveled once to Beaumont to visit with her last year. But now that Delaney was pregnant her traveling had been curtailed somewhat.
Then there were the wives of her cousins she’d gotten to know. Shelly, Tara, Jayla, Dana, Jessica and Savannah were as friendly as friendly could be. And Madison claimed her as a stepsister instead of a cousin-in-law.
Deciding to completely ignore McKinnon as much as she could, she turned and struck up a conversation with Abby, who was sitting beside her. They got caught up in a discussion about the latest fashions, and who had broken up with whom in Hollywood.
As much as she tried not to overhear her father and McKinnon’s conversation, Casey couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their discussion regarding the best way to train a horse. She couldn’t believe some of the suggestions McKinnon was making. He would be a complete failure in this latest business venture of his if he were to follow through with any of them.
“It might be best if you stuck to horse breeding instead of horse training, McKinnon,” she couldn’t resist tossing in. “Anyone with any real knowledge of horse training who’s keeping abreast of the up-to-date methods would know that using a strap on a horse is no longer acceptable.”
McKinnon lifted a brow like he was taking what she said with a grain of salt. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so. Although pain and intimidation may have been the way years ago, things have progressed a lot since then. Trainers are using a kinder and gentler approach to communicate with horses,” she stated unequivocally. “And it’s sad that some horse owners are still under the impression that such techniques as snubbing a horse to the post or running horses in mindless circles until they’re exhausted are the way to go and still being used. “
McKinnon leaned back in his chair. “And what if you had a not-so-docile animal like Prince Charming? Or a bunch of wild horses? What would you do then?”
“Same thing since it would make no difference. However, in the case of Prince Charming, I’d say someone, and rather recently I assume, mistreated him. But luckily at one time or another, he had a nice trainer and when I began talking to him to calm him down, he remembered those kinder days. That’s the reason he didn’t hurt me. I’m against using strong-arm tactics of any kind when working with horses.”
“And I appreciate your opinion, Casey, but I have to disagree. Although I’m against anyone being outright mean and brutal to a horse, I still find the traditional way of doing things much better. And you’re right—you were lucky yesterday with Prince Charming, however, I doubt that the kinder approach is for every horse. It will be almost impossible to get Prince Charming ready for the races in the fall without using some kind of strict disciplinary method.”
“And I disagree.”
He locked eyes with her. “You have that right to disagree, Casey. But this is Montana and not Texas. We tend to do things differently here.”
“But a horse is a horse and why should you do things differently if the results could be the same?” she asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.
She was trying hard to remain nice but McKinnon was making it plum difficult. Why did the man have to be so bull headed? “It bothers me that some horse trainers are only interested in rushing a horse’s training in that quest to seek immediate gratification when all it takes is gentle, loving care. If those methods are used over a period of time, a horse will be anxious, willing and eager to give back to its owner.”
“You make it sound like a horse is almost human, Casey.”
“No, I’m not saying that but what I am saying is that when it comes to horses, there has to be a foundation of trust established upon which all further development and training must be built. Without it, training a horse like Prince Charming to do anything, especially to win a race, will be hopeless as well as impossible.”
McKinnon basically agreed with everything she’d said but he wouldn’t let her know that. He would continue playing devil’s advocate until he had her just where he wanted her.
“I think you’re wrong on that account, Casey.”
“And I think you’re too close-minded to see that I’m right.”
He lifted a brow, not taking his eyes off hers. “I dare you to prove me wrong.”
“Consider it done,” she said without thinking.
He leaned forward in his chair. “Good. And since you’re so keen on the idea of the new way of doing things, I’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars for your efforts. You have eight weeks and you’ll have to stay on my ranch in the guest house.”
Casey blinked. What was he talking about? So she asked him.
He smiled. “You just accepted the challenge to prove me wrong with Prince Charming. But if you’re not sure of your capabilities I’ll most certainly understand and let you back out of it.”
She glared at him. “I know what I’m capable of doing, McKinnon.”
“So you say but I don’t want to put you on the spot. I’ll fully understand if you decide you can’t handle things.”
Casey’s glare intensified. “When it comes to a horse, McKinnon, I can handle just about anything.”
He shrugged. “You have eight weeks to prove it.”
Casey glanced around the table at her father and Abby. They had been quiet during her and McKinnon’s entire conversation and were now staring at her. There was no way she could back out now, although a part of her felt that McKinnon had somehow deliberately set her up.
She then turned her attention back to McKinnon, glaring at him. “Fine, I’ll show you just what I can do, McKinnon Quinn. I just hope you’re ready for me.”
McKinnon leaned back in his chair. He decided not to tell Casey that if he lived to be the ripe old age of one hundred, he would never, ever be ready for her.
Chapter 4
The dark blue car caught McKinnon’s eyes the moment it pulled into the yard. He’d been walking out of the barn and stopped a moment to look at the woman sitting behind the wheel. Casey had said that she would arrive within two days and she had kept her word.
He still had mixed feelings about her being there, but he had a business to run and hiring her on had made business sense. He would just have to call on his common sense and keep as much distance between them as possible. At least she would be living in the guest cottage out back and not under the same roof, he thought, as he watched her swing those shapely, gorgeous legs of hers out of the car. He sucked in a deep breath.
He glanced around and saw that he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed her arrival…or her legs. His men had stopped what they were doing to stare, especially when Casey grabbed a duffel bag out of the backseat. She was wearing a mint-green blouse that showed off firm, perfect breasts and a waist-cinching skirt whose hem swished around those gorgeous legs.
When she went to the back of her car and lifted the trunk, her luggage made it apparent to anyone looking that she was moving in. Most of McKinnon’s men knew of his long-standing rule that a female had no place living on his ranch. He also knew they were staring at her for another reason—other than the obvious male one. The last time she had been there she had earned their respect with the way she had handled Prince Charming. The way they saw it, she had saved Edward Price from getting stomped to death while placing her own life in danger to do so.
When it seemed that every ranch hand who worked for him was now racing toward the car to help Casey with her luggage, almost tripping over each other in their haste, he shook his head. He knew then and there that he would have a very serious talk with his men and make sure they understood that just like them, Casey had been hired to do a job and that was the only reason she was there.
When it became apparent that Jed Wilson and Evan Duvall were about to knock each other over to offer Casey their assistance, McKinnon decided to intervene. “Okay, you guys can get back to work. I’ll help Casey with her things.”
He saw the disappointed look on the men’s faces as they turned and followed his orders, leaving him and Casey alone. He met her gaze. “Casey.” He could tell from her expression that she didn’t want to be there.
“McKinnon. If you’d be so kind to show me where I’ll be staying over the next weeks, I’d appreciate it.”
She had managed to temper some of her anger but not all of it. She was still somewhat ticked off. “Just follow me. I’ll come back for your luggage later. The guesthouse is out back.”
They walked around the ranch house together and not for the first time, Casey thought that McKinnon’s ranch was erected on a beautiful piece of land under the warmth of the Montana sky. It was another nice day and again the weather reminded her of a day in Texas. She sighed deeply. She was already missing home.
“Are you okay?”
She glanced up at him. She wished his eyes weren’t so dark, so intense, so downright seductive. “Yes, I’m fine. I’ve been in Montana a little over a week and I’m missing Texas already.”
“It’s warmer here than usual for this time of the year,” he said, his voice dry as he looked ahead and not at her. “That means a colder than usual winter.”
She shuddered. “I don’t do cold weather very well.”
“If you’re planning on hanging around in these parts, my best advice to you is to get used to it,” he said curtly. “Otherwise, you’ll be shivering all over the place. Montana is known for its beauty as well as its freezing cold winters.”
Speaking of shivering…one passed through her body at that moment when their arms brushed. Geez. No man had ever given her the shivers before. She couldn’t help but take in the beautifully muscled body walking beside her, making it downright difficult for her to breathe.
When they reached what she assumed was the guesthouse, Casey stood aside for him to open the door. He motioned her in and then followed behind her. She relaxed a bit when he moved to the other side of the room and took that time to glance around. The place was beautiful. For a guest-house, it was massive and the living room was neatly decorated in earth-tone colors. The furniture had been handcrafted of a beautiful dark wood and the huge window that showcased the mountains gave the room a comforting effect.
“There’s a bedroom and bath down the hall that you can check out while I bring in your luggage.”
She turned toward the sound of McKinnon’s voice. “Okay.”
“There’s not a kitchen since most meals are eaten at the big house, but it won’t be a problem if you prefer taking your meals here. Just let Henrietta know.”
Casey lifted a brow. “Henrietta?”
“Yes, she’s my cook and housekeeper.”
Casey nodded. “She lives here on the ranch?”
“No,” McKinnon said rather quickly, as if such a thing was not possible. “Henrietta and her husband Lewis live a few miles from here, not far from my parents’ place. She gets here every morning around six and leaves every evening around that same time.” He pushed away from the wall. “I’ll be back in a second with your luggage.”
He left the room and Casey was relieved to be out of his presence for a little while. Everything about McKinnon exuded sensuality, and as a woman, she was fully aware of him as a man. But more than anything, she was determined to stamp down whatever hot and racy feelings he brought out in her—and fight the sizzling desire that had a tendency to slam into her body whenever he came within a few feet of her.
Deciding to shake those feelings now, she crossed the room to look out the window at the mountains looming in the background. She was here to do a job and nothing more. So how difficult could that be?
* * *
As McKinnon had suggested, Casey looked around while he brought in her luggage. When he returned moments later and found her standing beside the massive oak bed, his pulse began racing. There was just something about a beautiful woman standing next to a bed that would do it to a man each and every time.
Casey turned around when she heard him enter the room and could actually feel the sexual tension that surrounded them. That wasn’t good. Angry at his inability to control his emotions like he usually did around a woman, he placed her luggage on the bed. “I’ll leave you to unpack,” he said gruffly. “Since you don’t have to officially start work until tomorrow, you can use today to get settled in.”
“I will, and thanks for bringing in my things.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, glancing at the time on his watch. He then glanced back at her. “And knowing Henrietta she’ll be dropping by sometime today to introduce herself.”
“I’ll look forward to her visit.”
McKinnon wished he could keep his concentration on what Casey was saying rather than her features which appeared more striking than ever. It was her eyes, her mouth, her hair that was styled perfectly for her face.
“Will there be anything else, McKinnon?”
He gave himself a mental shake and frowned at her question. She had caught him staring. “No, there’s nothing else. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you won’t see me at dinner. I’ve been invited out.”
Her announcement only added to his irritation. He tried not to wonder who she would be sharing dinner with. Cal Hooper? Someone she’d met since arriving here? Why the hell did he care and more importantly, why did the thought bother him? “Okay, fine. Enjoy your meal.” He turned to leave.
“McKinnon?”
He turned back around. For some reason he was feeling annoyed, aggravated, impulsive; like hitting something, breaking somebody’s bones, namely whoever she was meeting up with later. “What?” he responded gruffly.
He could tell from her expression that she hadn’t liked the tone of his response. “For some reason I get the impression that you really don’t want me here but that you’re willing to put those feelings aside to utilize my talents,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “That’s all well and good because frankly, I don’t want to be here, either.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared back. “Then why are you?”
“To prove a point that all women aren’t incompetent when it comes to horses.”
His frown deepened. “I never said they were.”
“You didn’t have to. You made your thoughts known when you didn’t hire me that first day.”
A part of McKinnon struggled with what she was saying because she was so far from the truth it was pathetic. The reason he hadn’t hired her that first day had had nothing to do with what he thought of her abilities as a horse trainer, but what he’d thought of her abilities as a woman. A very desirable woman. He couldn’t tell her that though.
“You’re wrong, Casey. I have a high degree of respect for women who handle horses. In fact, the greatest horseman I know happens to be a female and she can outride, outrope and probably outshoot any man I know. And I hold her in the highest regard.”
Casey lifted a brow, wondering who this paragon of a woman was. “And who is she?” she asked.
“My mother, Morning Star Long-Lance McKinnon Martin,” he said before turning and leaving the room.
* * *
“Now, aren’t you a pretty little thing!”
Casey turned and met the older woman’s smiling face. Her smile was so bright and cheery, she couldn’t do anything but smile back. “Thanks. You must be Henrietta.”
The woman’s laughter echoed through the room. “Yes, that’s me. And you are definitely Corey Westmoreland’s child. You look just like him, just a whole lot prettier.”
“Thank you.”
“McKinnon gave me strict orders not to bother you until you’d gotten settled in. I thought these might pretty up the place for you even more,” she said, handing Casey what looked to be a bouquet of hand-picked fresh flowers.
Casey beamed. “Thanks, they’re beautiful.”
“You’re welcome. I grew them myself. I have a flower garden on the other side of the ranch house.” She chuckled. “That’s McKinnon’s way of making me tow the line by threatening to have my garden mowed down, but he doesn’t scare me any.”
“He doesn’t?”
“Heck no. I’ve been with that boy since the day he was born. I was his first and only nanny, so I know how to deal with him.”
A part of Casey wondered how McKinnon had been as a child but decided not to ask. “And you’re still with him now?” she asked while finding the perfect spot on a table in the living room for the flowers.
“Yes, only because he needs me. If I didn’t make sure he got a home-cooked meal every so often he would probably starve to death. And speaking of cooked meals, I understand you’re passing up the chance for me to fix a special one for you tonight.”
Casey grinned, thinking she liked this large, robust woman already. “Sorry about that but I was invited over to my cousin’s house for dinner.”
Henrietta nodded. “I imagine you’re talking about Durango. In that case I understand. I’m still grinning over the fact that boy’s married with a baby on the way. That just goes to show that miracles can happen to a devout bachelor when the right woman comes along.”
Casey hoped she wasn’t throwing out any hints about the possibility of her and McKinnon ever getting together because that wouldn’t happen. Ever. The man was too reserved, rigid and resigned for her taste. “Yes, I’m happy for Durango and Savannah. They are very happy together,” she said, leaving it at that and hoping Henrietta would, too.
“Well, I guess your decision to eat elsewhere is the reason McKinnon told me I didn’t have to cook. Now he has plans for himself. I guess he’ll be going into town tonight.”
A part of Casey didn’t want to think what he would do when he got there and who he would see. “I guess that means you’ll have a night off,” she said.
“Yes. I’ll be leaving in a few hours unless there’s something you need me to do. I tried to get this place ready for you as best I could.”
“And you did a wonderful job, Henrietta. It’s beautiful and I know I’m going to feel right at home for the short time I’ll be here.”
“And that’s what McKinnon wants.”
Casey doubted it, but decided not to tell the older woman that. However, there were a couple of things the woman could possibly tell her, things she preferred not asking McKinnon about. The less she saw of him the better. But it would help to know how early things got moving at the ranch in the mornings. The last thing she wanted was to be sleeping in while everyone else was up and working. The men employed by her father started their day as early as four in the morning. “How would you like to join me for a cup of coffee? There are some questions I have about the workings of this ranch and I’d rather not bother McKinnon with them.”