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Jessy’s glance flicked to the two suitcases bearing the Gucci label. “At a guess, I’d say she’s spending the night.”

“Are you okay with that?” The gentle concern in Ballard’s voice was almost her undoing.

Turning away from the probe of his kind blue eyes, Jessy retrieved the bottle from its warming pan on the stove. “Why shouldn’t I be?” she countered in a deliberately careless tone. “She isn’t married to Ty anymore.”

“But she had him wrapped around her finger for a long time. And something tells me she’s pulling the strings again.”

It smacked of it to Jessy, too, but she didn’t say so. The ranch grapevine would be buzzing with the news of Tara’s arrival. She wasn’t about to add any grist to the rumor mill.

“I was on my way upstairs to give Trey his bottle. Follow me and I’ll show you where to put the luggage.” As she crossed the kitchen, Ballard pivoted out of the doorway to let her pass, then followed her down the hall to the living room. “Why has it taken so long to bring the bags to the house? The plane landed over an hour ago,” Jessy remarked, her own curiosity getting the better of her.

“You got me,” Ballard said from his trailing position. “I was at the corrals working with one of the young horses when the big boss,” which was the affectionate title the ranch ha

nds had given Chase to differentiate between father and son, “told me to get the bags from the plane and take them to The Homestead.”

“Where are they now?” Jessy wondered aloud.

“When I left them, they were still at the old barn. They showed up there shortly after the plane landed, and they’ve been there ever since,” Ballard replied. “She’s got some young kid with her. He’s been crawling all over that barn like a termite inspector.”

The old barn. Jessy slowed her steps, trying to make sense of that, as they entered the living room. She had expected that Ty would be showing Tara the two sites they had chosen as potential locations for the new sale facility.

“That must be the architect you’re talking about,” she guessed. “She told Chase she was bringing one with her.”

“An architect? You mean for the new sale barn? Wait a minute.” Ballard stopped abruptly, spurs rattling with the suddenness of it. Jessy swung around in time to see the light dawning in his expression. “They’re thinking about using the old barn for it. What a helluva an idea!”

Jessy had her own moment of dawning shock as images flashed in her mind of the old barn at Christmas time, aglow with twinkling lights hung from the rafters. From there, it was no trouble at all to imagine a parade of registered cattle across a raised platform, similar to the one used for the annual Christmas pageant put on by the children of the ranch families. She felt a lick of excitement over the idea.

But she had no time to dwell on it as the front door opened and Tara swept in, followed closely by Ty, Chase, and a third young man. A tension, born of a raw dislike for the woman who had been Ty’s wife, curled its way through Jessy.

She knew her manners, however, and moved forward to greet the new arrivals. “Welcome back to The Homestead, Tara.”

“Jessy,” Tara began in greeting, then broke it off, releasing a little gasp of delight at the sight of the baby in Jessy’s arms. “You have one of the twins!” With quickened steps, she rushed to Jessy’s side. “Aren’t you the sweet one,” she cooed and tickled Trey under the chin. The happy-natured boy traitorously smiled and flailed his arms with glee. “Which one is this?” she asked Jessy.

“Chase Benteen the Third.”

“Little Trey. I should have known,” Tara cooed some more and continued chucking Trey under his chin.

But the easy use of the nickname was like a slap in the face to Jessy. When Ty had returned from Dyson’s funeral, he had given Jessy the impression that Tara had been overwhelmed with grief over her father’s death, certainly much too distraught for there to be much conversation. But the two had clearly talked a great deal more than Ty had let on.

“Oh, Ty,” Tara gushed, throwing a look over her shoulder. “He looks just like you. The same dark hair and dark eyes.” She turned back to the baby and murmured in a sickening baby-talk voice, “And just like your papa, you’ll break a lot of girls’ hearts when you grow up, won’t you, little Trey?”

With difficulty, Jessy held her silence, certain that Tara’s gushing over the baby was strictly for Ty’s benefit. Ty joined them, smiling indulgently when his young son squealed in pleasure at the sight of him.

Ty’s glance flicked to Ballard with its customary coolness then back to Jessy. “I imagine Ballard told you that Tara and Mr. Richardson will be spending the night here.” He nodded in the direction of the younger man in the group then formally introduced him to Jessy.

After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, Jessy motioned toward the staircase that ascended from the living room to the second floor. “I was just on my way upstairs to show Ballard where to put your luggage. If you’d like, you can come with me, and I’ll show you which rooms you’ll have. I’m sure you would welcome the opportunity to freshen up after your long flight.” The latter she directed to Tara.

“I would, yes,” Tara agreed quickly, then glanced at the architect. “Noah?”

He shook his head. “I prefer to get down to business.”

“In that case,” Ty said, “we’ll be in the den.”

It was no more than a statement of general information, but Tara chose a different interpretation of it. “I’ll join you later then.” Without a break in rhythm, she swung away and moved toward the stairs. “Which room will I be in, Jessy? I’m sure I can find my way.” The remark was a none-too-subtle reminder of her familiarity with The Homestead.

Jessy longed to strip off the gloves, but she refused to give Tara the satisfaction of knowing that she was getting to her. “I thought you could stay in Cat’s old room. Unless you have some objection to that.” She followed Tara to the stairs, irritated anew that Tara was the one leading the way.

“Cat’s room will be fine,” Tara assured her. “I always thought it had the best view of the ranch.”

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