Only Hers (7 page)

Shannon flinched.

Score a point for me
, Matt thought. Then she lifted
her tear-brimmed eyes to his. Misery stared back at him and he felt as though he had kicked a defenseless animal.

Calling himself a fool for falling for her act, he walked back to the window and leaned against the wall. “You have the floor, Arthur. But whatever happens, no one is going to get a square inch of Taggart land without a fight.”

Ferguson paused in removing the legal document from the folder. “You haven’t heard the will yet. On what grounds?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

Shannon finally looked at Matt. “Wade loved you like a son. Too bad you couldn’t respect him like a father.”

Matt came away from the wall in one fluid motion and crossed the room. Instead of cringing as he expected, Shannon jutted out her chin. The show of courage on her beautiful face stopped him more effectively than Ferguson’s frantic voice.

“Matt, sit down,” the lawyer ordered. “I know you don’t like what Wade did, but he had his reasons. If you can’t understand them, at least respect him enough to have his last wishes heard. Give him the same love and respect he gave you.”

“It’s not Wade I don’t respect,” Matt said, his meaning bitingly clear.

“Then we’ll proceed as soon as you take a seat.”

“I don’t care if you trust me or not,” Shannon said with heat. “I do care that you keep going on as if Wade couldn’t come out of the rain. He was one of the most intelligent men I’ve known. He was also one of the kindest. If you want to dislike me that’s your privilege, but don’t use Wade as an excuse.”

His gaze drilled into Shannon’s irate face. She returned the glare full measure. He
did
want to dislike her and he wasn’t sure if the reason had to do with her wanting his heritage or because, despite his best efforts, he wanted
her.

For the first time since his ex-wife taught him the bitterness of deceit, Matt was having a tough time suppressing his desire for a woman. He sat down.

Arthur Ferguson let out a tension-filled breath and looked from Shannon’s tense body to Matt’s. Lowering his gaze, he began to read Wade Taggart’s Last Will and Testament.

Finished, he laid the papers aside. There were no surprises. Everything had been left to Matt except the original Taggart homesite of one hundred acres.

“How did you get him to turn his back on his family?” Matt asked.

This time he was the one who was ignored. “Please show me where I sign.”

“Get ready for the fight of your life.” Matt stood.

“You wouldn’t let me have a moment of peace, would you?”

“No,” he promised harshly.

“Just as I thought.” She turned to the watchful lawyer. “After I sign, perhaps you can tell me where the nearest realtor’s office is located.”

“You’re not going to sell my heritage,” Matt thundered.

Surprise widened the lawyer’s eyes. “Ms. Johnson, Wade wanted you to live on the property, not sell the land he loved. Perhaps I should have given you both these letters sooner, but Wade had instructed me not to hand them to you until after the will was read.” Removing two letters from the folder, Ferguson rounded the desk and handed them out. “Because of his failing eyesight I offered to write them for him, but he wanted to do it himself. Not because of pride, but because he said the letters were too personal.”

Shannon and Matt glanced at each other, then opened and began reading their letters.

Dear Shannon,

Life must be riding you pretty hard about now. The meadow will heal you. You did all you could for your grandfather. He was a lucky man to have had you. You may not believe it, but I felt just as lucky to have had Matt. Would you believe he thought he could hire Johnny Sanders to spy on me while I rode Paintbrush and expected me not to know it? Shows how gullible young people think their elders are. Many a day Paintbrush and I gave Johnny a scare or two. I didn’t mind the watchdog because I knew it would keep Matt from worrying and it proved he wasn’t as hard as some people thought.

That boy has had to get over a lot of heartache.
At first, I had my doubts. But after watching him worry and fuss over me and all his shenanigans with Octavia, I know that other woman didn’t tear the heart out of him, she just badly bruised it.

So while you’re here don’t mind Matt if he gets testy at times. Beneath that gruffness he’s a good man. The roughest part in going is knowing he’s still hurting because of that woman. He needs healing, too, just like you. I pray you can help heal each other.

Wade

Dear Matt,

Don’t you make Shannon cry! If you do I’ll get a pass from heaven and come after you. She needs all the help she can get.

When I woke up after that car in St. Louis piled into mine, the first thing I saw was Shannon’s beautiful face. I thought I was seeing an angel. During the weeks I was in that hospital bed fighting depression, pain, and my fear of never walking again, I came to rely on her. With a gentle touch, a reassuring word, she helped me remember I wasn’t alone. You and the family were my strength by day, but Shannon was my own special angel at night.

She is one of a kind. Do anything to make life worse for her and when I return, we’re going behind the barn again. I can still best you and don’t you forget it. So cut her some slack.

I know you’re probably angry and hurt because I left her the meadow, but I owe her among other things. One day I hope you’ll understand and forgive me. I loved you like a son and I came to think I was a pretty close second to your daddy. I’m counting on you to do what’s right, but if you don’t, remember I’m watching.

Wade

How long must it have taken you to write the letter,
Matt thought. He shook his dark head in admiration and love. Wade was a tenacious fighter in more ways than one. Matt’s mouth tilted slightly at the corners at the warm memories his uncle’s letter evoked. When he glanced at Shannon, his blossoming smile vanished.

She looked utterly devastated. Her expression reminded him too much of himself when, ten years ago, Kane had brought a reluctant and angry Matt to Wade’s ranch.

Matt had initially stayed because of his mother’s tears, but it was his uncle’s prodding and the land that helped Matt forget his wife’s infidelity and turn his life around.

The painstakingly written letter clutched in her hand, Shannon recalled the peaceful expression on Wade’s face, the wistfulness in his voice when he talked of his meadow. He called it a place touched by the smile of God. No, Wade wouldn’t have wanted her to sell the land. Nor would he have been pleased to know she had taunted Matt with the possibility.

Wade thought she and Matt might help each other. That was impossible. Healing took time and trust, and Matt wasn’t going to give her either.

Unsteadily, she pushed to her feet. “I’d like to think things over before I sign. I’ll let you know my decision before I return to St. Louis.” She turned to Matt. “In . . . in my letter Wade speaks fondly of you. Remember him the same way. He wasn’t trying to take from you as much as he was trying to help me.”

His continued silence hurt as much as the censure in his unrelenting face. She needed someone to recall the good memories instead of the sad ones. After reading Wade’s letter, a part of her wished it could be Matt.

Sadness weighing heavily on her shoulders, she extended her hand to the lawyer. “Good day, Mr. Ferguson, and thank you for all your help.”

“If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to
call,” Mr. Ferguson said. “Wade was more than a client, he was a close friend.”

Shaking the lawyer’s hand, she left very much aware of Matt’s continued silence and the growing sadness within her.

“Where is she?” Octavia asked as soon as Matt walked through the front door of the ranch house.

“She who?” Matt never slackened his stride.

“Don’t get funny with me, Matt Taggart,” Octavia told him. “Shannon Johnson, that’s who.”

Matt flipped through the mail in his hand. “How should I know?”

“You had an appointment with her at Ferguson’s office. I know you didn’t expect Wade to leave her the meadow,” she said, “but I guess he had his reasons.”

“So I gathered, but there has got to be more to it than his letter explained. It also doesn’t explain why the woman he left it to is ready to take my head off one minute and then before I can blink, she’s trying to comfort me,” Matt railed.

His mood had grown darker since he saw Shannon fighting tears. She hadn’t acted the way he expected. Why hadn’t she signed the papers in the lawyer’s office? Why wait?

Suspicion narrowed the housekeeper’s eyes. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing.” Matt barely kept from growling the word. Tossing the letters and magazines on his desk in his study, he retraced his steps to the front door. He hadn’t felt so on edge since Kane dumped him at the Circle T. Octavia’s nagging wasn’t helping.

“She doesn’t know anyone else here, where would she go?”

Matt spun around. “How would I know? She’s probably someplace trying to con some man and make a fast buck.”

Octavia opened her mouth, saw Matt’s scowl deepen
and said, “My arthritis is acting up. I won’t be able to fix supper tonight or breakfast tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Jerking open the heavy front door, he headed for the barn. Whenever the housekeeper wanted him to know she was really upset with him, her “arthritis” acted up and she went on a work strike. In reality, she was as limber and as spry as a woman half her age. Let her get an attitude. He could fix his own supper. Shannon Johnson was no concern of his.

“I came to say good-bye, Wade, and to thank you,” Shannon whispered as she stood amidst an array of wildflowers in the meadow. “I wish things could have ended differently.”

She swallowed. The lump in her throat refused to budge. She hadn’t ached this much since the day she lost her grandfather. Then, as now, she felt adrift, lost. Her family and friends hadn’t been able to help, nothing had, and now she wasn’t sure what would.

Hands clenched, she took one last look at the rustic cabin and walked to her car. Matt didn’t want her around, and pushing the issue would solve nothing. She didn’t have the time or the heart for a nasty court battle. And it would get nasty.

Matt might not be aware of it, but once he began proceedings to contest Wade’s will, their private disagreement would become public knowledge. Both the Taggart and Johnson families were too well known and too prominent for the story not to grab attention.

News that Wade had left his former nurse, a single younger woman, a valuable section of his ranch and that his nephew was hotly contesting the will would send the media into a frenzy. Unfortunately some people were as suspicious as Matt and they would think the worst about her friendship with Wade. Wade’s reputation would suffer, and the man who Wade had asked her to help would have another reason to mistrust women.

A horse neighed. Automatically she turned in the direction
the sound had come from. Her heart stopped, then redoubled its beat. Matt, his signature black Stetson pulled low, sat on a horse fifty yards away watching her.

She’d know those broad shoulders and muscular build anywhere. She didn’t have to see his face to know it was unrelenting in its disapproval. Whoever the woman was in his past, she had done more than “bruise his heart,” as Wade had put it. She had wounded his soul.

Fumbling fingers opened her car door. Within seconds she was heading back down the road. Cowardly as it was, she didn’t want another confrontation with Matt. Thank goodness she had put her bags in her car before she drove to the lawyer’s office. She had intended to say good-bye to Octavia and thank her in person for making her feel welcome. A letter would have to suffice.

Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw that Matt remained unmoved on his stallion. At least she hadn’t had to suffer the humiliation of falling apart in front of him. She just wished she knew where she went from here.

With one arm draped over the open door of the refrigerator, Matt studied the well-stocked interior. Bone-weary, he couldn’t decide if a hot shower or hot food called to him more. Every muscle in his body ached, but he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and it was past nine at night.

Questing fingers lifted the corner of a foil-sealed glass dish. Roast beef. Recovering Sunday’s leftovers, he picked up a quart-size plastic-covered bowl.

“I need you to take me into town,” Octavia said from behind him. “My grandson has my car.”

Having heard the housekeeper’s heavy treads on the linoleum floor, Matt didn’t even glance around. Instead, he tilted the clear container in his hand, recognized sliced canned peaches.

“It’s important,” Octavia continued, her voice strained.

“Riding in my truck might aggravate your arthritis.”

“Shannon is in room twelve of the Paradise” came the tight-lipped reply.

His hand paused inches from the meat drawer. Broad shoulders tensed. The Paradise, known around town as the “no-tell-motel,” had rates that were hourly and cheap. It was just the kind of place his ex-wife had frequented with men who could buy her the things Matt couldn’t. So he had been right about Shannon after all. Something in his gut twisted.

He opened the meat drawer, then shoved it shut with more force than necessary. If his life had depended on the answer, he couldn’t have named one item inside.

“I just knew something was wrong. She wouldn’t have left without saying good-bye,” Octavia reasoned. “So I called every motel in the vicinity until I located her at one I wouldn’t let my dog stay in. That decent, caring woman I talked to this morning wouldn’t go near such a place unless she had no choice.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“The phone wasn’t working in her room, so they couldn’t connect me. But I know I’m right.”

“I see.” Absently, he moved a jar of jelly to one side. “Shannon didn’t look like the type of woman to let herself get into a financial pinch.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” Octavia came around to the front of the refrigerator door and spoke to Matt’s unyielding profile. “That young woman is here because your uncle left her Taggart property. That makes her partially your responsibility. You know what kind of place the Paradise is. What if some no-good man sees her and doesn’t understand the word no?”