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Some would call it a mansion—a rustic log ranch house with two wings. Their personal living quarters occupied one side, and the other side housed the lodge run by Alex. His cousin had expanded the place from a small bed-and-breakfast to a true hobby ranch, with everything from horseback riding to a spa, fishing and trail adventures...even poker games, saloon-style. They catered to a variety of people’s needs, from vacations to weddings.
The gift store featured some of the McNair signature jewelry pieces, just a sampling from their flagship store in Fort Worth.
Alex was one helluva businessman in his own right. Gran could be serious about turning over majority control to him.
Or maybe she had someone else in mind. A total stranger. He couldn’t even wrap his brain around that unthinkable possibility. His whole being was consumed with shock—and hell, yes, grief—not over the fact that he might lose the company but because he would lose Gran. A month or a year from now, he couldn’t envision a world without her.
And he also couldn’t deny her anything she needed to make her last days easier.
Stone urged his horse faster to catch her before she reached the stables.
“Okay, fine, Gran,” he said as he pulled alongside her, their horses’ gaits in sync. “I can do that for you. I’ll line up people to take, uh...” What the hell were their names? “Your dogs.”
“There are four of them, in case you’ve forgotten that, as well as forgetting their names.”
“The scruffy one’s named Dorothy, right?”
Gran snorted almost as loudly as the horse. “Close. The dog looks like Toto, but her name is Pearl. The yellow lab is Gem, given to us by a friend. My precious Rottie that I adopted from a shelter is named Ruby. And my baby chi-weenie’s name is Sterling.”
Chi-what? Oh, right, a Chihuahua and dachshund. “What about your two cats?”
Surely he would get points for remembering there were two.
“Amie is keeping them.”
She always was a suck-up.
“Then I’ll keep the dogs. They can live with me.” How much trouble could four dogs be? He had lots of help. He would find one of those doggy day cares.
“I said I wanted them to go to good homes.”
He winced. “Of course you do.”
“Homes approved of by an expert,” she continued as she stopped her horse by the stables.
“An expert?” Hairs on the back of his neck rose with an impending sense of Karma about to bite him on the butt.
He didn’t even have to look down the lengthy walkway between horse stalls to know Johanna Fletcher was striding toward them on long, lean legs that could have sold a million pairs of jeans. She usually wore a French braid to keep her wavy blond hair secure when she worked. His fingers twitched at the memory of sliding through that braid to unleash all those tawny strands around her bare shoulders.
What he wouldn’t give to lose himself in her again, to forget about the thought of his grandmother’s illness. Even if the best scenario played out, a couple of years wasn’t enough.
For now, he would do whatever it took to keep Gran happy.
“Your expert?” he prodded.
“All adoptions must be approved by our ranch vet tech, Johanna Fletcher.”
Of course.
His eyes slid to Johanna closing the gap between them as she went from stall to stall, horse to horse. Her face shuttered the instant she looked at him, whereas once she would have met him with a full-lipped smile, a slight gap between her front teeth. That endearing imperfection only enhanced her attractiveness. She was down-to-earth and sexy. He knew every inch of her intimately.
After all, she was his ex-fiancée.
The woman who had dumped him in no uncertain terms in front of all their friends at a major fund-raiser. A woman who now hated his guts and would like nothing more than to see his dreams go up in flames.
* * *
Stone McNair, the CEO in a business suit ruling the boardroom, commanded respect and awe. Bu
