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“I remember when he was still stealing hubcaps and shooting the hell out of mailboxes,” Denver grumbled.
“No more,” Milly said. “Rob’s become a real straight arrow. Belongs to the city council and all. Time didn’t just stand still, you know.”
“So I’ve been told,” Denver admitted, his gaze catching Tessa’s. Lord, she was beautiful. “Over and over again.”
“Guess you’re a slow learner,” Milly observed as she shoved the broom in a cupboard on the back porch.
“I guess so.” Denver couldn’t take his eyes off Tessa. Seeing her dressed as a lady—no, as a businesswoman—did strange things to him. She was fascinating enough in her jeans and work shirts, her attractive ranch-tough veneer. But dressed elegantly, in an expensively tailored skirt and jacket, she made him face the fact that she was truly the most captivating woman he’d ever met. The fire in her stormy hazel eyes, the proud lift of her chin and the confident set of her shoulders were potent and evocative.
Seven years ago he’d been attracted to her, maybe even loved her, but her innocence and spunk had been childishly intriguing. Now, he was faced with a full-fledged woman, a mature woman who knew her own mind, a woman he’d tried to humiliate the day before, a woman he’d nearly made love to last night.
The phone rang and he realized he’d been staring.
“I’ll get it,” Milly called out as she reached around the corner and picked up the receiver. “McLean Ranch,” she answered brightly, then glanced sharply at Denver. “Yeah, he’s here. Just a minute.” She held the receiver toward Denver. “Long distance,” she whispered. “Jim somebody.”
“Van Stern,” Denver said, placing his cup on the table. “My partner. I’ll take it in the den.” With a quick glance at Tessa, he strode out of the room. A few seconds later Milly replaced the receiver.
“I wonder what that was all about?” the housekeeper muttered.
“He does have a business in L.A., you know.” Tessa finished her coffee. “Maybe Van Stern wants him to go back to Los Angeles. Denver only intended to stay a few days.” That particular thought should have been uplifting, but Tessa’s spirits didn’t soar. Quite the opposite. After she’d avoided him for days, swearing to herself that she didn’t care for him, not one little bit, that her attraction to him was just chemistry, the thought that he would suddenly be out of her life was difficult to accept. Frowning, she reached for her purse and said, “I’ll be at Second Western Bank this morning, then I’ll stop over at Nate Edwards’s place. I should be back in time to feed the stock, but if I’m not, tell Mitchell he can handle it.”
Milly snorted sarcastically. “He’ll like that a lot.”
“I know, but he can just bloody well do it.” With a wave she walked out the back door.
* * *
Second Western Bank was a two-story concrete structure on the corner of Main and First Streets. With its narrow, black-framed windows, the square gray building looked more like a jail than a financial institution. Only a few trees and shrubs planted between the bank and parking lot softened the sharp angles.
A security guard was posted in the front entrance, and inside, the main lobby floor was brick, shined to a glossy finish. If only there had been bars on the windows, the penitentiary decor would have been complete.
Rob Morrison was waiting for her in his office on the second floor. Less austere than the rest of the bank, his corner suite was decorated with a few oil paintings of rugged coastlines and high mountains, cream-colored furniture and thick burgundy carpet.
Rob rose from his chair when she arrived. A thin man with rust-colored hair, freckles and narrow features, he extended his hand. “Tessa! What a pleasure,” he said, smiling and waving her into one of the side chairs near his desk. “What can I do for you?”
“Guess.”
“The McLean Ranch, right?” He twisted his pen in his fingers.
“Right. I’d like to take out a loan and buy the ranch.”
Still twisting his pen, Rob leaned back in his chair. “All of it?”
She nodded. “Unfortunately, no one’s bee
n able to find Colton, and he owns half the place.”
“You don’t think he’ll want to buy out Denver’s share?”
“Do you?” she asked.
Rob laughed. “It’s doubtful. The last I heard, Colton was in Afghanistan or somewhere.”
“Even if he can’t be found, I still want to buy out Denver’s share.”
“He wants to sell?”
“In a hurry,” she said, smiling dryly. The one trait that hadn’t changed in Denver was his need to escape. He intended to leave Montana as quickly as he could, and though she tried to tell herself that his departure was for the best, that she’d lived well enough without him—she couldn’t forget his words, loosed by liquor. If and when we make love again, next time there will be no regrets.
