Wyoming Tough (11 page)

“Where did you work?” he persisted.

“In Wyoming, for people who had no idea who I was,” she said. “And that's all I'm going to say about it. Ever.”

“Was it a big ranch?” he asked.

She shrugged. “A family one.”

“I see.”

“Some brothers. They were nice. I even had my own room in the bunkhouse and all the cowboys looked out for me. It was just like here, only smaller,” she added, to cover herself. “Much smaller.”

“Did you tell them who you were when you left?” Shelby wondered.

“No. I just said I had to come home.” She dropped her eyes.

Shelby, who knew her very well, was certain
that there was much more to this story that Morie didn't want to tell her parents.

“Well, we can talk about it later.” Shelby said gently. She smiled at King. “Right now, let's get her home and cleaned up. Honestly, Morie, you do look ragged!”

Morie laughed. “It was fun, while it lasted.”

“It's nice to have you home.” Shelby sighed, hugging her again. “I'm surrounded by men when you aren't here. Nobody wants to discuss recipes or Paris sales and shopping.”

King made a face. “I'll talk about the production sale late this month,” he volunteered.

Shelby glowered at him. “I'm already tired of hearing about it. Who do you think is having to make all the arrangements, my darling? Not you! I'll bet you have no clue about caterers and musical entertainment and tables and chairs and awnings….”

“Gosh, is that the time?” King glanced at his big watch. “I have cattle to brand!”

Shelby made a face at him. “Then you can drop us off at the house on your way,” she told him with a chuckle.

He smiled back. He shouldered the box and the rucksack that Morie had brought with her and headed for the big ranch SUV.

 

L
ATER
, S
HELBY CORNERED
her daughter in the bedroom and closed the door.

“You can fool your dad,” she said, “but you can't ever fool me. Now come clean,” she told Morie and sat down beside her on the spotless comforter with its exquisite pastel floral design. “What really happened?”

Morie laid her head on Shelby's shoulder. “I fell in love.”

“Really!”

“He was a beast. He had a girlfriend who was pretending to be something she's not. She had someone plant a jeweled egg in my rucksack and went to the boss and told him I stole it from him. So he fired me. I came home. End of story.”

“He accused you of theft?” she exclaimed.

“Yes. He said he wouldn't call the sheriff, but he fired me.”

Shelby's dark eyes flashed. “We'll sue him for defamation of character!”

“No, you won't,” Morie said calmly. “It would be useless. That woman set me up. I can't prove it, but I know she did it. He believed her,” she added with a pointed look at her mother. “No man who loved a woman would ever convict her on circumstantial evidence, no matter how damning it was.”

Shelby drew in a long breath. In a minute, she nodded. “If that's the way you want it.”

“Please don't tell Daddy.”

Shelby grimaced. “I have to tell him something.”

“Then embroider it a little, can't you?” She knew that her parents never had secrets from each other. She envied them their closeness. She felt now that she'd never have anyone to share secrets with.

“I'll soft-pedal it,” Shelby promised. “But I don't like it. You're no thief.”

“We know it. We don't have to prove it to anyone.”

“That's true enough. But I'd like to jerk a knot in your boss, and his girlfriend,” Shelby added. She wasn't a fiery woman, but she did have a temper.

Morie hugged her. “Thanks.”

“You're my daughter. I love you.” She kissed her cheek. She frowned. “What in the world happened to your face?”

“Just a scratch. I was moving a tree branch and it shifted. It's only a surface one. It will heal nicely, you'll see. Now how about a nice piece of broiled fish with herbs and butter? Please?”

Shelby laughed. “All right. Just for you. A homecoming present. I'm glad you're back.”

“Yes.” Morie sighed as she looked around at familiar things. “So am I.”

M
ORIE THREW HERSELF
into helping Shelby with details for the big production sale. In between, she had to cope with her father's matchmaking. Daryl Coleman was tall and dark and quite good-looking. His family had huge feedlots in Northern Texas and Daryl himself was CEO of an oil company that was based in Oklahoma. He was savvy about technical innovations and a whiz with computers. He had everything a woman could have wanted. He just wasn't Mallory Kirk.

But he liked Morie and he was always around. After Mallory's suspicion and alternating hot-and-cold treatment, Daryl was a breath of fresh air. He had exquisite manners and he loved to dance. So did Morie. It was one of the things she loved most in life.

Daryl flew her to Dallas in the corporate jet that his family had shares in, and took her to an authentic Latin dance club.

“So you want to learn to tango,” he told her with a grin. “This is the place to learn.”

“I'm not keen on it,” she mumbled, looking around. “It looks a whole lot easier in movies.”

“None of the movies it's in are authentic,” he assured her. He took her right hand in his left one and rested his free hand on her waist. “Tango is a battle between a man and a woman. It's quick and slow, insistent and sensuous. Most of it is footwork. Just follow my lead. You're an excellent dancer. This should be easy for you.”

“Easy!” she scoffed after she'd stumbled into him three times and almost upset a waiter with a tray of drinks headed for the restaurant at the other end of the club. No alcohol was allowed near the dance floor itself.

He chuckled. “You're rusty, kid,” he teased. “You've been spending too much time around cattle and not enough around attractive, dashing men like me.”

She looked up at his good looks and twinkling dark eyes and burst out laughing. “And so modest!”

“I'm modest. After all, I have so much to be modest about,” he assured her.

She leaned against him with a breathless laugh. “Daryl, you're a wonder.”

He hugged her close. “Sure I am. You really need to marry me,” he added with a smile. “Your father says so every time he sees me.”

She grimaced. “I like you a lot, but my dad is
looking at mergers, not relationships. It's a flat economy and he's diversifying his investments. Like your folks,” she added drily.

He shrugged. “I haven't met anybody I really want to marry,” he said honestly. “You're pretty and sweet, and you won't be marrying me for my money,” he added in a cold tone.

She stopped dancing and looked up. “Somebody did want to marry you for it,” she guessed.

He nodded. “She was sweet and pretty, too. I went nuts over her. Then, just before I was getting ready to propose, I saw her at a party sneaking into a bedroom with the host. They came back out a few minutes later, disheveled and laughing, and when I asked, she said sure she slept with him. He'd given her a diamond dinner ring and she wanted to pay him back for it.” His face hardened. “She said everybody did it, why was I so uptight? It was just sex.”

Morie searched his black eyes quietly. “That's the attitude most people have today. Everything is okay now. Multiple lovers are the rule. Funny, isn't it, that fifty years ago men and women alike were held to a higher standard of morality and families stayed together. Isn't the divorce rate something like fifty percent?”

“Probably higher.” He sighed. “I'm so old-fashioned that I don't fit in anywhere.”

“So am I, sweet man,” she replied, and pressed
close to him, closing her eyes. “Maybe I should marry you, Daryl. We're alike in a lot of ways. I really do like you.”

He hugged her close. “I like you, too, honey. I guess there are worse reasons to base a marriage on.”

She kept her eyes closed as they danced and tried not to think about how it had felt when Mallory held her close and kissed her in that incredibly sexy way and made her head spin. Maybe it would be safer to marry a man she only liked. Passionate love surely made life more complicated.

He kissed her hair. “What kind of ring would you like?” he asked matter-of-factly.

She drew in a long breath. “I don't know. Maybe a ruby. I like rubies.”

“Coincidentally, my family has investments in a jewelry chain,” he teased. “So you can have whatever stone you fancy, and we'll have a designer make it into your dream wedding set.”

Her dream wedding set would have included Mallory as the groom, but she couldn't say that. She was falling into her father's net headfirst, letting him rule her life. She'd tried rebellion, however, and it had ended badly. Very badly. It might be time to listen to her father's advice and do something sensible. After all, Daryl was highly eligible and quite good-looking, and they'd known each other for a long time. It wouldn't be a pas
sionate relationship. But it would be a lasting one, she was certain.

Now all she had to do was stop thinking about Mallory Kirk. That wasn't going to be easy.

 

M
ALLORY WAS HAVING PROBLEMS
of his own. His brothers refused to be in the same room with Gelly, and when she came to the ranch, they made their disapproval known by walking away the minute her small used car pulled up at the front porch.

“Do you have to make it so obvious that you don't like her?” Mallory raged to Cane.

Cane gave him a cold look. “She framed Morie.”

“Damn it, she did not! Gelly just happened to be riding with Bates when he mentioned what he'd seen.”

“Like she just happened to know about the stolen drill in our former employee's suitcase,” Cane retorted. “Anybody who makes Gelly mad gets fired.”

Mallory averted his dark eyes. “Coincidence.”

Cane stuck his hand in his pocket and went to the picture window to look out over the acres of green pasture just starting to stick up through the latest snow. “And I won't agree to let her friend buy that so-called scrubland, in case you were going to ask.”

“Neither will I,” Tank added curtly as he joined them.

Mallory didn't reply. He'd had Gelly harping on it for days. He was almost ready to sell it just to get her off his back. When she wasn't being obnoxious, she was sweeter than she'd ever been. She caressed him and kissed him and told him how handsome he was, and how happy she was that he'd been saved from that money-grubbing girl he'd had to fire.

For a man whose lack of conventional good looks was imposing, it was an ego trip of the finest kind. It blinded him to her other faults. He wouldn't concede that he was vulnerable because he was guilt-ridden over firing Morie on flimsy circumstantial evidence.

“Did that key to the display case ever show up?” Cane asked suddenly and with narrowed eyes.

Mallory joined him at the picture window, his hands jammed deep into his jean pockets. “Yeah,” he replied. “Found it in my coat pocket. I guess I forgot and put it there instead of back in the drawer where we keep it.”

“Odd,” Tank commented.

And Gelly knew about the key and where it was kept, because she'd admired that egg once and Mallory had pulled out the key to open the case and let her hold it. He didn't mention that.

They moved to the display case and studied the egg.

“You know,” Mallory said suddenly, frowning, “it looks funny.”

“I was just noticing that,” Cane replied curtly. “Open it.”

Mallory brought the key out of the drawer and opened the glass doors of the ornate, wood-scrolled cabinet. He picked up the egg and frowned. “These settings look slipshod. And here—” he indicated the jewels “—they don't look… Good God, it's a fake!”

Cane's jaw tautened. “A cheap fake.”

Mallory was seething. “Morie,” he said flatly. “She had the real one in her rucksack.”

“She handed it back to you,” Tank replied angrily. “You put it back in the case. I saw you do it. Morie was gone by then!”

Mallory didn't want to admit that. It suited him to think Morie was a thief. He'd sent her packing, wounded her pride, treated her like a criminal, all on the word of a cowboy he hardly knew and a woman who harried him night and day to employ her friends and sell land to them.

His lean face was harassed. “Yes,” he had to concede, his eyes stormy. “She was gone by then.”

And all the joy in his life had gone with her. He was left with the emptiness in his heart and the certainty of long years ahead with Gelly to as
suage the ache Morie had left behind. She couldn't do it. He liked Gelly, but she didn't stir him, not even with her most passionate kisses, except in the most basic way. Intellectually, she was a no-show. Her conversational skills revolved around popular television shows and movies and the latest fashions.

“It's time to call in private detectives,” Cane said flatly. “In fact, Morie advised that some time ago, when I talked to her at the line cabin.”

Mallory glared at him. “What were you doing out there?”

His brother smiled coldly. “Looking for Morie after you'd upset her.”

“She was a hire. She stuck her nose into everything around here,” he muttered.

“Yes, like making canapés for a party and helping cook—and she didn't even ask for extra pay or complain that she didn't get it,” Tank reminded him.

Mallory felt guilty. “I meant to compensate her for that. Of course, she was running around after that judge friend of yours,” he added icily, turning to Cane.

“Danny Brannt is a gourmet chef,” Cane replied. “He and his wife have a housekeeper who was trained in Paris as a cook, and they're always looking for new and exciting finger foods for parties. In fact, they're famous for it. I understand that
his housekeeper is helping to cater that big to-do at the Brannt Ranch next month. We were invited, I believe.”

“Yes,” Mallory murmured absently. “King Brannt has some seed bulls that are the talk of the industry. I have in mind to buy one from him for our breeding program.” He didn't add that the mention of that last name stung. Not that Morie had any connection to that famous Brannt; she was just a poor working cowgirl.

“Can we afford one?” Cane asked amusedly. “We're only just showing profit from the past two painful years of investments and stock adjustments.”

“We can afford one,” Mallory replied quietly. He glanced at his brother. “You and Tank are responsible for those successes as much as I am,” he added. “I know it's been rough. I appreciate what you've done.”

“Hell, I appreciate what you've done,” Cane said. “You've got the business head. Tank may be the marketing specialist, and I do like showing off our bulls at cattle shows with a little help from our cowboys who travel with me, but you're the one with the genius to know where to put the money so that it will grow. That's no mean feat in a flat economy.”

“I had help. Our stockbroker is the genius. I just followed his suggestions.” He looked worried.
“Who could have taken that egg?” he wondered aloud. “And when did it go missing?”

“I don't know. Sometime between the time that Morie left and you found the key. The question is, who had the key and the opportunity to get into the cabinet?”

“Couldn't have been a break-in,” Mallory said, thinking out loud. “Not with our security system in place.”

“And I'd bet my stock portfolio on Mavie's honesty,” Tank added.

Mallory nodded. “So would I. Her former boss isn't the sort to suffer a thief any more than we are. She was with him for twenty years until he had to give up his ranch and retire, leaving her unemployed. She's been a welcome addition to our staff.”

Cane pursed his sensual lips. “Bates, maybe?” He was thinking out loud. “He was the one who claimed to see Morie playing with the egg. Interesting, because Darby says she kept her door closed anytime she was in the bunkhouse, and she kept it locked.”

“Suspicious,” Mallory said flatly.

“A woman in a bunkhouse full of men would lock her door,” Cane shot back. “Especially one like Morie. Darby told me that she lived off campus when she was in college, because she re
fused to live in a coed dorm even if the whole world thought it was all right.”

His eyebrows arched. “She could have been lying.”

“Why do you think she lied in the first place?” Cane demanded. “Because Gelly said she did?”

“Let's not bring Gelly into this,” Mallory said defensively. “I'm very fond of her.” He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. “She's having all sorts of financial problems because her father made bad investments.” He shrugged. “Maybe I should marry her….”

“I'm leaving the day she comes in the door,” Cane said harshly. “And Tank will go with me.”

“In a heartbeat,” Tank agreed. “We'll take our share of the ranch profits with us,” he added in a cold tone. “You and Gelly try staying afloat financially with only a third of the land and cattle!”

“You wouldn't do that,” Mallory returned, wounded.

“I'd do it in a heartbeat,” Tank assured him with flashing brown eyes.

“So would I,” Cane agreed. “I'm not living with Gelly.”

“What has she ever done to make you two so hostile?” Mallory exclaimed, exasperated.

Cane looked at Tank. “Blind as a bat.”

“And stubborn as a mule,” Tank agreed. “Can't tell pyrite from gold.”

“Morie stole the egg,” Mallory roared. “She took it and hid it in her rucksack and was going to sell it!”

“Sure.” Cane took the fake egg in his hand and showed it to Tank. “And she replaced it with this one after we put it back in the cabinet,” he added with a droll look at his brother. “Of course, she was on her way home in a bus at the time. I guess it's magic.”

Tank nodded. “And funny thing, the key reappeared in Mal's coat pocket.”

“How convenient.”