Hanchart Land

Chapter One

The thundering sound of a horse's hooves met Susan Hanchart’s ears and her pulse lurched into the same pounding cadence. She locked the door of Shane's house for the final time, reminding herself to stay calm. She didn't have to look toward the fields to identify the lone rider approaching at such a breakneck speed. It had to be Shane’s cousin, Luke Hanchart.

She'd known he would come and had dreaded this final confrontation. Turning on the porch, she moved toward the steps, stiffening her spine and squaring the weary droop of her shoulders. Every muscle and nerve in her body was strung painfully tight.

Luke reined his horse as he reached the grassy front yard and spotted her. His temper had been in a slow burn since he'd learned she was actually leaving. Hearing the news from someone outside the family had been bad enough, but seeing the rented moving van sent his temperature up another few notches.

He slowed his pace until he was within a few feet of the porch. The horse snorted from exertion and saddle leather creaked as man and beast shifted to stillness. Then Luke's gaze clashed with Susan's. Sparks flew along with the lid off his temper.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, anger and frustration evident in every hard line of his six foot, two hundred pound body.

He knew exactly what she was doing, or he wouldn't have bothered to ride over here hell-bent-for-leather, Susan thought to herself. Luke had been right there in the lawyer's office when Shane's will had been read. He knew his cousin had left his share of the Hanchart land to her, his widow. With certain restrictions, of course. If Luke didn't like the way she had chosen to deal with those restrictions, there was nothing he could do about it now.

"I'm leaving today." Her calm response didn't give any indication of the sick dread she felt at having to move to the city.

She pulled her gaze from his and nodded toward the van that held all her worldly possessions. It had taken six months to get her affairs in order after Shane's unexpected illness and death at the age of twenty-five.

She had no regrets about leaving the house she'd shared with him for two painful years, but it was breaking her heart to leave the Hanchart ranch and the way of life she treasured.

Luke's tone was grim. "I thought you weren't leaving for another two weeks."

"Sandy's daughter moved back earlier than expected, so she didn't need me anymore." Susan explained the premature loss of her waitress job and her only source of income. He muttered another oath, his lean, hard face taking on an even tighter expression beneath the brim of his Stetson. "Matthews is saying you've agreed to sell to him. It better not be true," he insisted tersely.

Susan sighed. Even from the grave, Shane was twisting screws into her heart. He'd left the property to her along with a hefty mortgage and a mountain of debts. He'd known she'd have to sell, but his one stipulation was she couldn't sell to his family.

The house and several hundred acres of prime Hanchart property was bordered by Luke's spread on the west and Raymond Matthews' property to the east. Both men wanted it.

  She wished it could go back to the family, but her hands were legally tied. Shane's resentment of his cousin reached beyond death. Though she hated selling Hanchart land to an outsider, the bank and creditors had waited long enough for their money.

"You know I don't have any choice," she told him, her battle for composure making her sound cool and indifferent.

"The land's worth three times what he's offering," Luke insisted hotly. "All I want is enough to pay off Shane's debts," she said. "I'll pay off the damn debts and you can keep the property," he snapped.

She'd rejected the same offer from his granddad, but the Hanchart men didn’t like taking no for an answer. "I don't want loans or any more charity," she snapped right back at him. The decision was tough enough without having to repeatedly defend it.

"I'm not offering either," he bit out tersely. "I'd be paying you for the right to keep this land in the family. I'd pay a whole hell of a lot more, and you know it. The deed will stay in your name, and you can live here as long as you want."

A shudder rippled down her spine. She couldn't tolerate living here one more day. The house was a constant reminder of her nightmarish marriage. She hated it. She wished she could sell it to Luke and be gone, but that wasn't an option.

"Even if the property stayed in my name, it would be totally unethical to let you pay Shane's debts."

He swore again. "When did it become unethical to pay a cousin's medical bills?"

If the debts were all medical expenses, Susan might have accepted some help. She hadn't argued when Shane's grandfather, John Hanchart, had insisted on paying the funeral expenses. But the property had been mortgaged to pay off gambling debts.

She didn't argue any further, just looked Luke straight in the eyes and nodded her head negatively.

"Damn your stubborn hide," he said, seething.  For most of his life he'd had to fight off women who wanted him just for his money. Now when he badly wanted a woman to take advantage of his wealth, she flat-out refused.

He wondered if she was holding out for something beyond the payment of debts. "Have you signed a contract?"

"I haven't agreed to anything yet, but I have an appointment with an attorney on Monday." Her callous disregard for his heritage was unforgivable in his eyes. He loved the land with a passion few could understand. His roots were buried deep in Texas soil. The ranch was the foundation beneath his feet, the air he breathed, his heart and soul. Except for his granddad, nothing and no one else mattered more.

Luke considered himself the caretaker of the family heritage as his granddad had before him. He intended to pass it on to another generation, intact. He wasn't about to let it go without a fight, but instinct warned him to back off and regroup.  "You were just going to drive away without so much as a word to anyone?"

The accusation stung even though she'd considered doing just that. "I was on my way to your place." His steely glance encompassed the whole yard. "Where's your car?"  She'd sold it to finance the move to Houston, but pride kept her from admitting as much. Other than a few dollars for necessities, she was flat broke.

Her expression grew more obstinate, and he experienced a new wave of anger. "You sold it, too?" She'd sold Shane's truck to help subsidize her small paycheck and make ends meet. In this land of vast spaces, it had been a wrench to give up her car, too. But she'd had little choice.  "I won't need it in Houston. It's just an expensive liability."

She watched his big hands tighten on the reins, making the bay dance restlessly. He continued to glare at her. His anger and frustration were unnerving, yet she stood her ground with as much dignity as possible. The effort took its toll on her already strained emotions.

"I'll see you at the house."

The veiled threat was unsettling. Susan had clung to a very vague hope he would understand and accept her decision. Obviously, she'd been wrong. She should have known he'd never accept the loss of any part of his beloved ranch.

Horse and rider whirled and headed back the way they'd come. She watched Luke's retreating figure with mixed emotions. He rode like a man born in the saddle, one with his horse with an innate power and strength  few could emulate. He was a big, powerful man.

It would be easier to just leave without stopping at the main house, she mused. She was tempted, but didn't like taking the coward's path. She couldn't bring herself to leave without saying good-bye to John and the horses.

She would miss her hometown and the close-knit ranching community. More than that, she'd miss a way of life that was deeply ingrained in her nature. Although the move was the most logical solution to her employment and financial problems, she faced it with a heavy heart. Leaving in the springtime was especially hard because she loved the renewal of life on the ranch. The spring rains had been good to them this year and every living thing was blooming with life and a rainbow of color.

As she drove the rental van the few miles between Shane's house and Luke's, she mentally cataloged some of the things she would miss the most; endless blue skies that shimmered with sunlight, miles of pristine white fences and lush green pastures dotted with livestock. All the scents, sounds and sights of the countryside were burned into her memory.

This part of Texas was known for its sprawling ranches and the Hanchart property was no exception. The family owned over ten thousand acres with several homesteads. Luke was an only child. He, as his father and grandfather before him, controlled the ranch and occupied the main house.

His cousins, Shane, Brad and Linda, had each been given smaller homesteads. Even though Susan had made her home on the property for the past two years, she'd always felt like an interloper in the family. Because she'd never loved Shane, she'd never felt deserving of the affection, respect, and loyalty were a normal part of belonging.

The gates to the main entrance were an impressive wrought iron structure with a scrolled LOPING H on either side. More pristine white fences framed the half-mile of paved driveway that lead to the main house and barns.

Susan had always loved animals, especially horses. She’d been riding since she was three years old and had worked with them at the agricultural college she’d attended for a couple years. She'd spent a great deal of time these past few years tending to Luke's brood mares. The work with the livestock had been her salvation and saved her sanity on more than one occasion.

As usual, she skirted the Grecian style two-story house and headed for the collection of barns near the rear of the property. There was no sign of Luke. For that, she was thankful. She didn't know if she could withstand another round of arguing with him today. Her emotions never seemed to improve beyond constant turmoil.

One thing was certain. She needed to spend some time with the mares. Working with them was always soothing. At this point in her life, they were her most cherished friends, the only beings she trusted with her heart.

Luke's two Border Collies, Jack and Jill, raised a ruckus at the intrusion of the unfamiliar vehicle she was driving, but their defensive barks changed to welcoming yelps when they recognized her. She greeted them with words of praise and rubbed their silky heads, then continued toward the largest of the barns.

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust from bright sunshine to the more dimly lit building. The barn was swept clean, as always, and was in excellent repair. Everything on Luke's property was well maintained, and Susan admired him for that. She hated to see livestock kept in unsanitary, unhealthy conditions.

When the horses heard her enter, their heads came popping over the half-doors of their stalls. An assortment of woofs and whinnies greeted her from eight separate compartments.

She started with the stall nearest the door and made her way along the row with quartered apples for each horse. After their treat and a loving caress, she bade them each a farewell in the soft, husky voice they knew and trusted.

"I promise not to forget you ladies, if you'll promise to take care of yourselves," she crooned softly.

The three year old chestnut in the last stall was the most difficult to leave. Susan had cared for Mariando since birth and had become particularly attached to the spirited filly. She was playful, friendly and could run like the wind. The two of them loved to race across the pastures.

"I hope you'll mind your manners once I've gone," she murmured, stroking the long, sleek mane and rubbing her cheek against the horse's neck. Almost overcome with emotion, she slid her arms around Mariando's head and hugged her tightly.

Luke, who shared her love of animals, had first introduced her to his livestock after her parents were killed in a car accident. She'd needed to keep busy, and he'd told her to spend as much time with the horses as she liked. They'd become an outlet for her turbulent emotions.