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“You were only nineteen.”
“And now I’m twenty-six, but my values haven’t changed,” she said angrily, tossing her napkin into her plate and stalking out of the restaurant. Outside the sun was blinding. She marched down the street, but Denver caught up with her on the second block, grabbed her hand and whirled her around.
“What do you want from me, Tessa? A marriage proposal?” he fumed.
Yes! “I’m not trying to manipulate you, Denver.”
“Aren’t you?”
She wanted to slap him and tell him to take his hands off her. But her dignity wouldn’t allow this fight to be aired to all the good citizens of Helena. “Leave it alone, Denver,” she said between clenched teeth, wrenching her arm away from him.
“That’s the problem, Tess,” he said, sighing. “I can’t leave it alone. Just like I can’t leave you alone. But, by the same token, I can’t lie to you or promise you things that just won’t happen.”
“Look, you don’t have to go on about this. I didn’t ask you to marry me, did I?” She started up the street again and he kept up with her, stride for stride, until they reached the car. At that point she had to stop. The car was locked and there was nowhere she could run—no place she could hide.
“We need to talk,” he growled, shoving his scarred hand through his ebony hair.
“Maybe we should’ve done more talking last night!”
Tense as a panther ready to strike, he paced from one end of the car to the other. “I just don’t know what you want from me—”
“Denver?” Ross Anderson’s voice boomed over the sound of traffic.
Denver’s head jerked up. He watched in mild surprise as the wiry young attorney, briefcase tucked under one arm, dashed down the courthouse steps. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said from the corner of his mouth.
“Right.” Tessa was disbelieving.
“Later!” Then, forcing a tight smile onto his face, he observed Ross zigzagging through the traffic.
“I called the office and Nancy said you were waiting for me,” Ross said as he extended his free hand, “but I didn’t think you’d be camping out on the courthouse steps.”
“We weren’t—we were just having a . . . discussion. Ross, I’d like you to meet Tessa Kramer. Tessa—Ross.”
Ross grinned, his narrow face cracking with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Kramer. John McLean was one of your biggest fans.” He offered his hand and Tessa shook it. But her gaze traveled past the expensive weave of his jacket to clash with the anger in Denver’s eyes.
“John was good to me and my family. We miss him.”
“Don’t we all?” Ross shot a glance at Denver, whose lips had tightened until they were white.
“Have you heard anything else about Colton?” Denver demanded.
Ross reached into his pocket and withdrew a long, thin cigar. “Is that what this is all about?”
“Ms. Kramer, here, wants to purchase the ranch—all of it. We need to talk to my brother, then work out a purchase agreement. Since you’re involved in the probate of his estate, I’d like you to iron out the details.”
“If Colt agrees.” Ross snapped his lighter over the end of his cheroot and puffed furiously, sending up a stream of small, blue clouds.
“Even if he doesn’t, she wants my half.”
Ross squinted thoughtfully through the smoke. “Unless Colt wants the entire place. There’s a provision in John’s will, you know. If one brother doesn’t want his share, the other has the option to buy him out at fair market value.”
Tessa’s heart sank. Not only was she losing Denver to the bright lights of Los Angeles, but even if she did sell her horses and the bank approved her loan, Colton might want the place! Though he’d been overseas for years, he might want to quit his dangerous job, give up his wanderlust and settle back in the valley where his family had lived for generations.
“Colton won’t want the ranch any more than I do,” Denver said tightly. “He left right after the fire, too. Hasn’t been back since.”
“A man could change his mind when he owns the land.”
“I didn’t.” Denver stared pointedly at Tessa.
