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“You’re not your brother. Come on, we can talk more comfortably in my office.”
Puffing smoke like a steam engine, Ross led the way, and within minutes they were seated around his desk. “So you’re here about Colton.”
“Have you heard from him?” Denver asked, leaning back in his leather chair and eyeing the attorney.
Ross shook his head. “Not Colton himself. But the P.I. called again. He’s sure the man he’s seen is Colton—though his looks have changed. He just hasn’t gotten close enough to talk to him yet. It’s touchy, you know.”
“Touchy?” Tessa asked. “How?”
“Dangerous. No one wants to blow Colt’s cover,” Denver explained, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.
“You make it sound like he’s a spy.”
“Close enough,” Denver muttered. “Close enough.”
“I don’t know when we’ll actually hear from Colton,” Ross said, “but the investigator’s supposed to call back in a few days. Hopefully he will have contacted him by then.”
Denver’s face muscles were tight. “Tell your man I want to talk to my brother.”
“I’ll try.”
“And if by some fluke Colton himself calls, let him know what’s going on; explain about John and the land. Let him know we have a buyer.”
Ross scribbled himself a note and Tessa’s name leaped off the clean yellow page.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell him who wants to buy,” Denver decided, surveying Ross’s notes.
“Why not?”
Denver glanced at Tessa. “He and the Kramers have never seen eye to eye.”
Tessa’s mouth went dry. Dealing with Denver’s accusations had been bad enough. She couldn’t imagine what Colton would say if and when he returned. No amount of arguing had changed his mind before he left Montana. She doubted anything would now.
Secretly Tessa had wondered if Colton had been behind the accident. Though he was supposed to have been in town with John when the blaze started, he hadn’t been. John had admitted as much later. And Colton had arrived at the ranch quickly—just as the explosion had rocked through the stables. However, she’d kept her thoughts to herself. Pointing fingers without proof was a McLean trait, and she wasn’t about to lower herself to that level. But the thought of seeing Colton again hung like a pall over her. First facing Colton—then watching Denver leave for Los Angeles. Deja vu, she thought wearily.
“—I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything,” Ross was promising Denver.
“Good. Just make sure we don’t put Colt in any jeopardy.” Denver stretched his arm toward Ross.
“I’ll give it my best shot!” The wiry attorney shook Denver’s hand, but looked at Tessa. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Kramer.”
“You, too.”
On the way home, she barely said a word to Denver. They stopped for dinner at a restaurant owned by a young couple who served “family-style” meals. The room was crowded, the table big enough to hold four couples, which it did, but there wasn’t one bit of intimacy.
Tessa ate the chicken and dumplings and didn’t taste a bite. She couldn’t think of anything save the fact that Denver was planning to leave h
er again. Not that he’d ever promised anything else, she knew. And there was some time left—time to be shared here and in California. But the prospect of living the rest of her life without him was more depressing than she’d ever imagined. The past seven years she’d known that somewhere, sometime, she’d see him again, but now it seemed that once he left for Los Angeles, the only contact she would have with him would be quarterly statements about the ranch—property tax statements, income taxes and such—until he was completely bought out.
And what then? Would he return to the ranch whenever he wanted, to check up on her? Take her to bed for one night only to leave the next day? Her head was swimming, her eyes hot. She could barely breathe.
Shoving her chair away from the table, she scrambled to her feet. “I need some fresh air,” she explained, not waiting for Denver’s reaction. She struck out through the restaurant’s front door and didn’t stop until she was in the parking lot, breathing in huge gulps, mentally kicking herself for loving him.
She heard his footsteps thudding on the boards of the front porch. Before she could turn around, she felt his arms surround her waist, his breath on her nape. “I’ve been an ass,” he decided, and she clenched her fists impotently.
She couldn’t agree more. “This is all coming down too quickly. The ranch, Colton, you. It’s not turning out like it was supposed to.”
“No fairy-tale ending?” he mocked.
