She had no doubt hed look equally good in blue jeans and a Western-cut shirt. When theyd hugged, shed felt his chest, stomach, thighs and arms, so she knew he was rock-solid with muscle. Whatever hed been doing in Chicago for the past ten years, it wasnt sitting behind a desk.
She checked the wayward track of her brain and extracted three bottles of beer from the refrigerator, heading back down the hall.
When she arrived on the porch, Caleb had obviously brought Travis up to speed on the will. The two men had made themselves comfortable in the painted, wood-slat chairs. Mandy handed out the beers, her fingertips grazing Calebs as he accepted his. She refused to look in his eyes, but the touch sent an electrical current coursing the length of her arm.
She backed away and perched herself on the wide railing, one leg canted across the rail, the other dangling between the slats.
Just when you think a guy cant get any nastier, said Travis, twisting off the cap of his beer bottle.
Caleb took a swig of his own beer. Only Wilton could screw up our lives from the grave.
Mandy had to agree with that. It looked as if Calebs father had deliberately driven a new wedge between his two sons. The only way to repair the damage was to tell Reed about Calebs offer to return the ranch.
How are we going to find him? she asked.
We wont, said Travis, if he doesnt want to be found.
Probably doesnt, said Caleb. Which means hes finally come to his senses and left this place in his dust.
He thinks youre stealing his ranch, Mandy corrected, her voice rising on the accusation.
Then why didnt he call me and talk about it? Im listed.
He probably thought youd gloat, she guessed.
Your faith in me is inspiring.
She hadnt meant it as an insult. I was speculating on what Reed might think. I wasnt saying what I personally thought. She took a swig of the cold, bitter brew. It wasnt her favorite beverage, but sometimes it was the only thing going, so shed learned to adapt.
You thought I was going to keep the ranch, Caleb reminded her.
But I believed you when you said you wouldnt, she countered.
You want points for that?
Or a merit badge. The joke was out before she could stop it.
Caleb gave a half smile. Then he seemed to contemplate her for a long, drawn out moment. I should just sell the damn thing.
Well, that would be quite the windfall, wouldnt it?
You think Id keep the money?
She stilled, taking in his affronted expression. Oops. She swallowed. Well
Caleb shook his head in obvious disgust, his tone flat. Id give the money to Reed, Mandy.
Reed wants the ranch, not the money, she pointed out, attempting to cover the blunder.
Then why isnt he here fighting for it?
Excellent question, Travis jumped in. If it was me, Id fight you tooth and nail. Hell, Id lie, cheat and steal to get my land back.
So, where is he? Calebs question was directed at Mandy.
Im going to find out, she vowed.
Two days later, Mandy was no closer to an answer. Caleb, on the other hand, was moving his alternative plan along at lighting speed, having decided it was most efficient for him to stay on the ranch for now. He had a real-estate broker on retainer, an appraiser marching around the Terrell ranch and a photographer compiling digital shots for the brokers website. Hed told her that if they didnt find Reed in the next few days, the ranch was going on the market.
Trying to keep her activities logical and rational, despite the ticking clock, Mandy had gone from checking Reeds web-browser history for hotel sites, to trying his cell phone one more time, to calling the hospitals within a three-hundred-mile radius, just in case.
At noon, tired, frustrated and hungry, she wandered into the Terrell kitchen. She found a chicken breast in the freezer, cheese in the refrigerator along with half a jar of salsa, and some tomatoes, peppers and onions in the crisper.
Assuming Caleb and the appraiser would be hungry when they finished their work, she put the chicken breast in the microwave and set it to defrost. She found a thick skillet, flour, shortening and a rolling pin, and started mixing up a batch of homemade tortilla shells.
When Caleb walked in half an hour later, she was chopping her way through a ripe tomato on the islands counter, the chicken frying on the stove.
She glanced up to see Caleb alone. Wheres the appraiser? she asked.
On his way back to Lyndon.
He wasnt hungry?
Caleb snagged a chunk of tomato and popped it into his mouth. He didnt know there was anything on offer.
You didnt offer to feed him? It was more than two-and-a-half hours back to Lyndon.
I didnt think it was worth the risk.
She gave him a perplexed look.
I dont cook, he clarified.
Dont be ridiculous. She turned her back on him to flip the last of the tortillas frying in the pan. Everybody cooks.
Not me.
She threw the vegetables in with the chicken. How is that possible? You said you lived alone. Please, dont tell me you have servants.
I dont have servants. Does anybody have servants in this day and age? I live in a high-rise apartment in downtown Chicago. Im surrounded by excellent restaurants.
You eat out every night? She couldnt imagine it.
I do a lot of business over dinner, he told her easily. But most of the restaurants in the area also offer takeout.
Its hard to believe you survive on takeout. She turned back, returning to chopping the tomato on the island. How could he be so fit eating pizza, burgers and chicken?
Theres takeout. And then theres takeout. He spread his arms and rested the heels of his hands against the lip of the granite countertop, cornerwise from where she worked. Andres, around the corner from my apartment, will send up filet mignon, baby potatoes in a sweet dill sauce and primavera lettuce salad with papaya dressing.
Suddenly, her soft-taco recipe seemed lame. She paused. You must make a lot of money to afford meals like that.
He was silent for a long moment, and she quickly realized her observation had been rude. It was none of her business how much money he made.
I do okay, he finally allowed.
Tell me something about your job. She tried to graciously shift the subject.
She also realized she was curious. What had happened to the seventeen-year-old cowboy who landed in Chicago with nothing more than a high school education. It couldnt have been easy for him.
The companys called Active Equipment. He reached out and snagged another chunk of tomato.
She threatened him with her chopping knife.
But he only laughed. We sell heavy equipment to construction companies, exploration and resource companies, even ranchers.
So, like a car dealership?
Not a dealership. Its a multinational corporation. We manufacture the equipment before we sell it. With lightning speed, he chose another piece of tomato from the juicy pile and popped it into his mouth, sucking the liquid from the tip of his finger.
Theres not going to be any left for the tacos, she warned.
Ill risk it.
So, what do you do at this corporation?
Caleb swallowed. I run it.
What part of it?
All of it.
Her hand stilled. You run an entire corporation? Hed risen all the way to the top at age twenty-seven? That seemed impossible.
Yes.
I dont understand.
He coughed out a laugh. Im the president and chief executive officer.
They gave you that many promotions?
Not exactly. They let me run things, because they have no choice. I own it.
She set down the knife. She couldnt believe it. You own Active Equipment?
He nodded.
How?
He shrugged. Hard work, intelligence and a few big financial risks along the way.
But-
You should stop being so surprised that Im not a loser.
He paused, but she didnt know how to respond to that.
Though its true that I cant cook, he allowed with a crooked smile. I guess I concentrated on the things I was good at and muddled my way through the rest.
With filet mignon and baby potatoes. Poor you. She kept her tone flippant, but inside she acknowledged he was right. She should stop being so surprised at his accomplishments.
It wasnt always that way, he told her, tone going more serious. In the beginning, it was cheap food, a crappy basement suite and two jobs.
Then he straightened his spine, squaring his shoulders. But I was never coming back here. Id have starved to death before Id have come back to Wilton with my tail between my legs.
She found her heart going out to the teenager hed been back then. Was it that bad? Were you in danger of starving?
His posture relaxed again. No real danger. I was young and healthy. Hard work was good for me. And not even the most demanding bosses could hold a candle to Wilton Terrell.
She retrieved the knife and scraped the tomato chunks from the wooden cutting board into a glass bowl. So now, youre a self-made man.
Impressed?
Mandy wasnt sure how to answer that. Money wasnt everything. Are you happy?
Delirious.
You have friends? A social life? A girlfriend? She turned away, crossing the short space to the stove, removing the tortilla shell, setting it on the stack and switching off the burner. She didnt want him to see her expression when he started talking about his girlfriend.
No girlfriend, he said from behind.
Why not? she asked without turning.
No time, I guess. Never met the right girl.
You should. She turned back. Make the time. Meet a nice girl.
His expression went thoughtful, and he regarded her with obvious curiosity. What about you? Why no boyfriend?
Because Im stuck in the wilds of Colorado ranch country. How am I going to meet a man?
Go to Denver. Buy yourself a pretty dress.
She couldnt help glancing down at her simple T-shirt and faded blue jeans with a twinge of self-consciousness. You dont like my clothes?
Theyre fine for right now, but were not dancing in a club.
Ive never danced in a real club. A barn, sure, and at the Weasel in Lyndon, but never in a real club.
Seriously?
She rolled her eyes at his tone of surprise. Where would I dance in a club?
He moved around the island, blue eyes alight with merriment. If we were in Chicago, Id dress you up and show you a good time.
Pretty self-confident, arent you? But her pulse had jumped at the thought of dancing with Caleb.
He reached out, lifted one of her hands and twirled her in a spin, pulling her against his body to dance her in the two-step across the kitchen. She reflexively followed his smooth lead.