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“Double-crossing me?”
“I’m just pointing out the facts,” he said, his weathered face softening. “Doesn’t it seem strange that he showed up just after John’s funeral, stuck around long enough to find out what was going on—just to make sure the ranch was on its feet—and then took off?”
“He had work in California—”
“Sure he did. But my guess is that he found out you’d turned this ranch around, that it’s making a profit, and he’s decided there’s no reason to sell.”
She wouldn’t believe it. “I went back with him.”
“And now you’re here alone,” he pointed out. “Denver’s called, already made up an excuse about not bein’ able to come back here.”
Her lungs felt tight and some of her old fears took a stranglehold on her heart. “You think he used me.”
Curtis’s eyes shifted to the hay-strewn floor. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“No!” Her small fist clenched. She wouldn’t believe that Denver had so callously and calculatingly seduced her! They had shared too many wonderful days and nights for it all to have been a lie. “Denver lov—cares for me.”
Tears filled the corners of her father’s eyes. “If you say so, Tess,” he said, his voice raw. He touched her hair and sighed. “You’re too good for him, you know. Too damned good.”
“Denver doesn’t want this ranch,” she pointed out, trying to come up with reasons, explanations, excuses, anything to refute her father’s accusations. Denver loved her—though he’d never said it. He had to!
“Maybe he changed his mind,” Curtis said. “I checked the books—we’re not in bad shape. In fact, this ranch is in the black. Think on it, Tessa,” her father whispered, his old eyes squinting thoughtfully. “Why should he sell to you, when he could probably run the place from L.A. and make a handsome profit?”
“Because he gave me his word!”
The door to the barn swung open and Mitchell, his hands and shirt black with grease, entered. “The clutch is shot on the John Deere. I think we’ll need to—” As if seeing Tessa for the first time, he stopped and glanced from his sister to his father. “What’s going on here? Why haven’t you changed?”
“We were just discussing Denver McLean,” Curtis said.
“So we’re back to him again, are we?” Eyeing his sister cautiously, Mitch leaned casually against the manger. “Don’t tell me—you’re defending McLean and Dad won’t buy it?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, you know where I stand.”
“Stay out of this, Mitch,” she warned. “We’ve been over it before.”
Mitchell wiped a grimy hand over his brow, leaving a streak of grease. “Maybe someone should remind you that McLean doesn’t have what you’d refer to as a sterling track record.”
“Enough!” she shouted. She wouldn’t listen to these lies a minute longer.
Her father sighed. “Mitch’s right. Now that Denver knows this place is worth more than he originally thought, why wouldn’t he try to sell it to a higher bidder?”
“Because we had an agreement,” she said testily.
“In writing?” Mitchell asked.
“No, but—”
“Don’t tell me,” Mitch cut in. “He promised to sell the land to you, convince Colton to do the same, and then, once his brother was out of the picture, he’d come back, marry you and hand you your money back.”
“Of course not!” she blurted, though deep in her heart, Mitch’s scenario was just what she’d hoped for.
“Tessa,” Mitch said softly, spreading his hands. “Open your eyes.”
“I have!”
Pity stretched a
