Do You Take This Enemy?
“What’s the matter with me?” she snapped, speaking aloud. She lifted her hair off her neck. Even though it was only May, it was hot outside. On the porch she turned to look at the rolling land that was the Triple R. Tall live oaks sent long, graceful limbs out over the yard, giving much-needed shade in the hot afternoon. Beyond the barn and outbuildings were green pastures dotted by more tall oaks. The land was good. It was home to her, and she would fight to her last breath for it, but her dad’s life was more important. Then the memory of sexy dark-brown eyes mocked her and she took a deep breath. Why did she still respond to him? How could he turn her insides to jelly with just a look?
She crossed the porch and went into the kitchen that smelled of baking bread. A ceiling fan turned slowly above glass-fronted cabinets. A pitcher of tea sat on the walnut pedestal table and preparations for supper were spread on the white counter.
A stout, gray-haired woman stood by the kitchen sink. She turned to look at Ashley. “Are you all right?” she asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.
“Yes, it’s just hot out,” Ashley replied, hurrying across the kitchen. “I’ll be in my room.”
“You didn’t let that lawyer fellow get very far. I fixed a pitcher of tea because I thought you’d at least let him come sit on the porch to talk. You didn’t let him come near the house.”
“Nope. I didn’t want him wasting my time.” Ashley hurried out of the room. She’d tell Mrs. Farrin soon enough, but she had to tell her father first. And if Gabe Brant had come closer to the house, Mrs. Farrin would have recognized him.
Ashley thought about the blood-pressure medication her father took. She didn’t want to get him all worked up, but she knew she had to tell him about Gabe’s proposal, and when she did, he was going to raise hell.
That night, after Ashley and her father had finished supper and retired to the family room, her father sat reading a magazine. Seated near him on a leather sofa, she glanced around the room with its throw rugs and polished plank floor, Western art and shelves of books lining the walls. The quiet they were enjoying was about to be shattered—it was time to tell her father the news.
“Dad, I got a call yesterday from Prentice Bolton, a lawyer in San Antonio.”
Quinn Ryder lowered his magazine and looked at her over his half glasses. Brown-eyed and tall, Quinn was raw-boned, with thick black hair streaked with gray. He removed his glasses.
“That outfit represents the Brants.” Her father frowned. “Why would he call you?”
“He said he wanted to come out and talk to me about a business proposition. If I tell you, will you keep calm?”
“Why don’t you think I’ll keep calm?” her father demanded.
“I have to tell you something you’re not going to like. I don’t want your blood pressure going up,” she said. His shirt hung on his frame because of the weight he had lost. It hurt to see her father ailing; he had always been robust, a strapping giant to her when she had been a child.
“I’m going to have high blood pressure if you don’t go ahead and tell me.”
“The lawyer wasn’t the one who came out here. He was just a decoy, calling for someone else.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed and he waited. “Dad, it was Gabriel Brant,” she said.
Her father’s ruddy face drained of color and he stood. “Gabriel Brant was on our land?”
“Yes, he was. Now sit down, or I won’t tell you another word. I don’t want your blood pressure jumping.”
“Dammit, Ashley, he knows better than to set foot on our place. That son of a bitch on our land!”
“Dad, just keep calm. You don’t want to have a stroke because of a Brant.”
“I’m not going to have a stroke. What in blazes did he want? I know he wanted something and it must be a dilly.” Quinn told his daughter.
“He wants me to marry him.”
The explosion she expected came; Quinn stormed around the room, swearing and waving his hands. She let him rant for a moment and then stepped in front of him.
“Now listen to the rest. You know a Brant is not in love with a Ryder, much less a woman he’s never talked to before.”
“He wants the ranch. He wants this ranch, dammit!”
“He wants a paper marriage—a marriage in name only,” she explained. “He can run cattle on our ranch and expand a little because he knows we don’t use all our land.”
“The only way he can know that is if he’s been on our property. I will shoot that greedy son of a bitch if I catch him trespassing!”
“He could know that without getting on our property,” she said calmly, trying to stay calm herself to quiet her father. “Everyone in town knows you’ve had health problems.”
“Why in thunderation did he ever think you’d agree? Damn, he’s ruthless and greedy. There’s nothing we’d get out of it.” Quinn grumbled.
“According to him there is. We’d get his help running this ranch and his money backing it.”
Her father clenched his fists, his face growing more red. “Dammit. He just wants our land.”
“But his would be ours as much as ours would be his,” she argued.
Quinn shot her a searching look. Shutting his mouth, he went to the mantel to prop his elbow on it, and she saw that he was actually thinking about Gabriel Brant’s proposition. Her spirits sank a little because she had had to think about it herself.
“There have to be a dozen other guys around here who would marry you and work with me on the ranch.”
“No one has called and asked me out,” she answered dryly. “At least going out with Gabriel Brant might be interesting.”
“How do you know that? You don’t know the guy at all.”
“Of course, I do. I’ve been around him when we were growing up. I saw him at parties and football games. He was older, but he was always in the middle of things and sort of the life-of-the-party type,” she said. Back then she had thought he was incredibly sexy and handsome and wished he would notice her; wished that he was anything except a Brant.
Quinn turned to study her. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?”
“I have to think about it. It holds possibilities.”
“Hellfire. The guy’s a shark like his dad. He owns ranches all over Texas. He’s land-hungry and you can’t trust a Brant.”
“Maybe, but the marriage would still give us the same rights with his ranch that he would have with ours.” She gazed into the distance and frowned. “I thought he was married.”
“He was, but she died about three years ago. He’s really thrown himself into ranching since then. If I remember right, I think he has a little boy.” Quinn ran his hand over his head.
“A son?”
“Now don’t go getting soft because he has a motherless child. I know what a pushover you are about kids. Honey, if you’re thinking about his proposal, you’re doing it for me. Don’t.”
“I’m doing it for you, for me, for the baby, for the ranch. It’s for all of us,” she said, walking over to give her father a hug. He wrapped his arms around her to hug her in return. She could feel his shoulder bones and thought again about the weight he had lost.
“I love you, Ashley. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I love you, too,” she replied, giving him a squeeze and moving away. She sat on the sofa. “Dad, Gabe’s offer has possibilities.”
Quinn shook his head. “I can’t imagine—a Ryder marrying a Brant.” Quinn rested an elbow on the mantel and stared into space. “You just think you’ll always have your health and then one day you don’t.”
“Please don’t worry. I promise that I won’t do anything I don’t really want to,” she said, leaning back and wondering if she was trying to convince herself.
Ashley discussed it until he announced that he was going to bed. After he was gone, she paced the room. Her father was frail and the burden of the ranch was stress in his life that he didn’t need. The ranch was losing money daily—something that hadn’t ever happened in her lifetime.
Was what Gabriel Brant proposed absolutely unthinkable? It would be a paper arrangement. She ran her hand across her head. She couldn’t trust a Brant. Old hurts plagued her as she remembered how she had trusted Lars, a man she had thought she had known and loved. He had broken her trust and she had learned a bitter lesson.
An hour later, Ashley went to bed, but she tossed and turned and didn’t sleep well. She kept seeing Gabriel Brant, legs crossed, leaning back against his pickup. And she kept remembering how, when she had met his dark eyes, her pulse had raced.
Finally she fell asleep but overslept the next morning. When she went to the kitchen, her father had already gone. Ashley fixed her breakfast and got out paint samples to pick colors for the nursery.
Fifteen minutes later, she realized her mind wasn’t on colors. She was thinking about Gabriel Brant’s proposition. He had a child. A son. She wondered about the little boy who had lost his mother when he was so young. Yet the marriage would be a business arrangement and nothing more. Gabe wouldn’t make any demands on her. No emotions would be involved. Lawyers could protect her. She threw up her hands. How could such an arrangement work?
The phone rang and she crossed the room to pick it up.
“Ashley?” came a deep, masculine voice. “This is Gabe Brant. I’d like to see you again.”
Two
“I’d like to see you right away. I’ll drive to your place. How’s an hour from now?” Gabe asked.
Ashley closed her eyes and ran her fingers across her brow.
“Good. I’ll be there,” he announced before she’d had time to answer. He hung up, and she was left with a dial tone.
“You don’t believe in saying goodbye, do you?” She hadn’t said much more than hello. She slammed down the receiver, glanced at her watch and went to her room to change her clothes. Then she became annoyed with herself for changing just because Gabriel Brant was coming.
Yesterday she’d had an intense, prickly awareness of him. She ran her fingers through her hair, and studied herself in the mirror. She was in a T-shirt, a denim jumper and sneakers. So be it. She combed her hair into a ponytail and went downstairs. Forty minutes later, she left the house and climbed into one of the ranch pickups and headed toward the road.
Alongside the county road in the shade of a tall cottonwood, she parked by the mailbox, retrieved their mail and climbed onto a fender to sit and wait for him.
Right on time she saw his red pickup coming up the highway. Sliding off the fender, she watched as he slowed. To her surprise, she could see a small boy in the back seat. Gabe parked and climbed out. He wore a T-shirt and jeans. His thick, slightly wavy brown hair was neatly trimmed. Her pulse jumped at the sight of him. Brant or not, the man was good-looking. Her gaze slid past him and she watched the little boy and jump out of the truck to take his dad’s hand. The child stopped in his tracks and studied her with large, dark-brown eyes that were as thickly lashed as his father’s.
“Ashley, meet my son Julian.”
Julian held out his small hand, and Ashley was instantly won over. The child was adorable, and she took his hand lightly. “I’m glad to meet you. How old are you, Julian?”
“Four,” he answered promptly, holding up four fingers.
“You’re a very big boy,” she said, and he grinned.
“I wanted you two to meet,” Gabe said quietly. “Kiddo,” Gabe continued, picking Julian up. “You’ve got your cars in the back of the truck. Will you play with them a few minutes while I talk to Miss Ryder?”
Julian nodded.
Ashley waited while Gabe set his son in the back of the pickup and Julian seemed to lose interest in the adults and began to play with his toys. Gabe walked back to talk to her.
As he neared, his brown eyes held her. What caused all this electricity when she was within four feet of him? It surely wasn’t from the schoolgirl crush she’d once had.
He stopped only a few feet away and hooked his hands into his pockets.
“You cheated,” she said, too aware that her voice was breathless.
“How’s that?” he asked while his brows arched with curiosity.
“Bringing your son. He’s adorable.”
Something sparked in Gabe’s eyes, and he inhaled deeply. “You don’t know that. You only said hello. He could be a little terror.”
“Little children aren’t terrors,” she replied promptly.
“When have you been around any?”
“My younger cousins. I volunteered to teach Sunday school and to coach soccer when I was in Chicago. I like kids.”
“You’re making me like my proposition even more,” he said, moving closer and reaching out to touch her arm lightly. “If you’re seven months along, do you know what you’re having?”
“Yes. A girl.”
“Ahh. That’s nice. Boy or girl—it’s great. Except I know a little more about boys. But I can learn,” he said, smiling at her, and she shook her head.
“You’re irrepressible,” she said.
“I’m surprised that you wanted to meet here, where any neighbor who passes will see a Brant talking to a Ryder and start all kinds of rumors.”
Electrified by his touch, she stepped back slightly.
His brow arched, and he gave her a look that made her whole body tingle. “It bothers you to stand close to me?”
“I’m not accustomed to being around Brants,” she said, knowing it was a ridiculous answer, but she didn’t want to admit how much he disturbed her.
He reached out again to stroke her arm lightly with his finger. “This is an interesting surprise, Ashley,” he said softly, his voice growing husky. “We have some kind of chemistry between us.”
His dark eyes were full of curiosity, and she flushed. “It doesn’t outweigh all our family history of feuding,” she replied.
A faint smile curved one corner of his mouth and his long-lashed, bedroom eyes snapped with interest. “I disagree. I think it snuffs out any idea of feuding with you. No, when I get around you, feuding is not what I want to do,” he drawled in a sexy tone that made her pulse jump another notch.
She leaned closer to him. “You know what I think? I think you’re trying to sweet-talk me into this marriage you’re proposing. You may forget about the Brant-Ryder history, but I can’t.”
“Now I find that a real challenge—to see if I can make you forget about the feud,” he said softly.
She knew he was flirting, and, while it was exciting, at the same time she was suspicious of his motives. There was too much at stake, and in five generations, no Ryder had ever trusted a Brant.
“It’s absolutely impossible for me to forget.”
“We’ll see,” he said with amusement dancing in his eyes. “Did you think about what I said?”
“I’m thinking about it.” She would never admit that she couldn’t put him or his proposal out of her thoughts.
“Good.” His gaze swept over her. “You sure have changed since high school.”
“You didn’t know me in high school,” she said. “You’d already gone off to college.”
“I was home at a couple of parties—I saw you around town. We just didn’t speak. You were a skinny kid with braces—you’ve grown up into a beautiful woman.”
“Thank you, but you can save the compliments.”
“Did you tell your dad about my proposal?”
She was looking into dark eyes that nailed her with their forcefulness. He was too close, too masculine, too sinfully handsome. She could detect his aftershave, and facing him at this range was more disturbing than ever.
“Yes, I did. He was furious and appalled.”
“But you know I have a proposition that’s worth considering, don’t you? Admit the truth now.”
“Yes, I do,” she snapped.
“Go to dinner with me tomorrow night so we can discuss marriage.”
“I don’t want to go out to dinner and start all kinds of wild rumors. This whole thing is impossible,” she replied, feeling butterflies at the thought of a date with him. She clamped her lips closed, turning to reach for her pickup door.
His hand shot out and held the door closed. “Now just calm down and let’s talk a minute.” His breath blew against her nape and he stood so close behind her that she could feel the heat of his body. As she looked at the tanned wrist and hand that held her door closed, her pulse skittered.
She turned around. “Move away.”
He studied her, and her heart drummed. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she couldn’t even breathe. “Move back and give me room,” she said, placing her hand on his chest to push lightly. It was a tactical error because the instant she touched his muscled chest, tingles raced through her and the curiosity in his eyes shifted to blatant desire. She yanked her hand away.
“My, oh my, this is a surprise,” he drawled softly. “You and I have some wild attraction going here.”
“It’s purely physical,” she said, but all force had gone out of her voice. He still stood too close to her, and she hoped he couldn’t hear her thudding heart.
“Might be purely physical, but it’s damned powerful. Too powerful to ignore, I can tell you that.” He touched her hair, pulling free the ribbon that held it behind her neck. “You grew up to be a real beauty.”
“Thank you, but I don’t believe your compliments are sincere.”
Again, she saw that flash of amusement in his expression. To her relief he stepped to one side, leaning a shoulder against her pickup, looking relaxed, sexy and curious.
“Let’s go to dinner and talk about my proposal,” he suggested. “We can go to San Antonio. It’s a big enough city that we can find a spot where no one will know us.”
“This is so absurd. I don’t know why I’m listening to you.”
“Because you’re intelligent and you know I’m making a good offer. You’re listening because when we get near each other, both of us almost go up in flames. Which surprises me as much as it does you.”
“Will you stop!”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “I have all sorts of reasons why this would benefit you. I just want a chance to present my case. And don’t tell me a Ryder can’t exist in proximity to a Brant. What do you think goes on at rodeos and cattle sales? I’ve rubbed elbows with your kin, including your dad. We don’t like it, but we do it. We can talk without bringing down the wrath of our kinfolk. Now, how about tomorrow night?”
She debated only a few seconds because she was intrigued and she knew there was a possibility of solving a lot of problems for her father. “Yes, I’ll go with you to dinner.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up around seven. Will your father let me set foot on the place?”
“Yes, if I want you to.”
“So I don’t have to wear my gun?”
“Don’t you dare be packing!” she gasped.
“Sorry. I couldn’t keep from teasing you,” he said, touching her cheek while his dark eyes twinkled. “I’ll be there in my best suit at seven, and we’ll go to San Antonio so we won’t see anyone we know. That suits me fine, too.”
“Have you ever not gotten your way?”
“Yes,” he replied. She heard the harsh note in his voice while his expression became solemn.
“Well, what happened? That must have been a dilly.”
“When my wife got pneumonia and died. When my folks died.”
“Your wife and your parents?” She could hear the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yeah. See you at seven at your house.” He turned away and in long strides went around his pickup.
“Gabe,” she said, hurrying after him, too aware of using his first name. “Let me tell Julian goodbye.” She moved past Gabe, going to the back of the pickup.
“Wow, you have a lot of cars,” she said, leaning over the side of the pickup. “Which one is your favorite?”
Julian held up a blue one. As she talked to him about his cars, she felt Gabe standing nearby, watching and listening to her. After a few minutes, she smiled at Julian.
“I have to go now, Julian. It was nice to meet you.”
“Thank you. It was nice to meet you,” he said politely and she turned to look at Gabe.
“You’ve taught him well,” she told him.
“I try. See you tomorrow night.”
“Who takes care of Julian?”
“I have a nanny,” he replied.
She nodded and walked away, hearing him talk to his son. When she climbed into her pickup, Julian was buckled in again and Gabe had started the engine. Making a sweeping turn, he drove away while she watched. She was still surprised—tomorrow night she had a dinner date with Gabe Brant.
The man ran roughshod over all her arguments. Marry him—it would be like getting a dictator in her life. They were strangers and already he was getting his way. And his flirting struck nerves. There was a chemistry between them. She was surprised he felt it, but she had felt it around him all her life.
She threw up her hands. She had to tell Mrs. Farrin, which would be bad, but telling her father about her dinner date would be much worse.
That night as they ate thick steaks, Ashley set down her fork and braced for a storm. “Dad, I’m going out tomorrow night with Gabe Brant.”
“Dammit, Ashley,” Quinn snapped, dropping his fork and frowning. “Why? You can’t consider a sham marriage or any kind of marriage to that man.”
“I think I should hear his arguments,” she said quietly, torn between agreeing with her father and trying to do what was best for everyone.
“You’re a grown woman now and a smart one, but you shouldn’t be going out with a Brant.”
“It’s just a dinner date.”
“I’ve heard talk from Gus and the men. He lost his wife last year and he lost both his parents the year before that. Now all he has on his mind is expanding his ranch—with our land!”
“What happened to his parents?” Ashley asked, curious, yet wanting to avoid asking Gabe.
“Old Thomas died of a heart attack, probably because he was meaner than sin. Brant’s mother had cancer, I think. But don’t go feeling sorry for the man. They say he’s hard as granite. I’m sure he’s like his dad.” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s he taking you? How do you know you’ll even be safe with him?”
“I’ll be safe,” Ashley answered, smiling. “I have my cell phone and besides, he doesn’t want my body. Like you said, he just wants my land.”
“Don’t do this, Ashley. I hate the thought of you going out with him,” Quinn grumbled. “I can take care of myself and this ranch. We’ve just had a little setback. Marry him! The man has nerve. I’d like to take my shotgun and run him off the place and forget it.”
“I don’t think that would be good for your blood pressure,” Ashley responded dryly. “I wish you wouldn’t even think about it.”
“I think it would make me feel immensely better to run him off our ranch. I don’t want you to go out with him.”
“And I don’t want to go, but I think I should hear him out. His offer may hold possibilities,” she reminded him, feeling as if she were arguing with herself instead of her father.
“Ashley, to be caught up in a marriage—any marriage—would still be hellish. That means dealing every day with someone you can’t stand to be around.”
“I might manage to stand to be around him,” she answered quietly, thinking how sparks flew between them when they were together.
Her father swore softly and she felt torn between conflicting needs. “I can’t stop you,” he admitted.
“It’s just a dinner. Only a few hours and I’ll be back home.”
Her father stared beyond her and shook his head. He tossed down his napkin. “I have to get outside and walk around while I think about this.”
“Please don’t worry. Forty-eight hours from now the time with him will be history.”
As Quinn left the room, Ashley rubbed her pounding head. She was half tempted to cancel the dinner date, but then she thought about her dad’s health, the debt that was accumulating, and she knew she had to go out with Gabe.
After breakfast the next morning she went to her room and looked at her clothes. She waded through her dresses and finally decided on a dark blue, high-waisted sheath dress. Something simple and dark. She wanted to wear a hood over her head. The world grew smaller daily and the chances of running into someone they knew loomed large to her.