Читать книгу The Texan - Catherine Lanigan - Страница 8

Prologue

Houston, Texas

“I won’t believe for a second that I’m finished,” Rafe Whitten growled as he catapulted his six-foot-two-inch, wide-shouldered frame out of the brown leather chair in his accountant’s office. “Defeat is not in my vocabulary, Matt. You of all people should know that.”

Matt Leads instantly hung his head and shook it in frustration “It’s this ‘die-hard’ attitude of yours that’s gotten you into this financial black hole, Rafe. Tele-Cept was your brainstorm and probably would have gone on forever. Embezzlement is not easily recoverable.”

Raking his hand through his thick dark hair, Rafe placed his booted feet wide apart, folded his arms across his expansive chest and glared at Matt. “Don’t I know it. But bankruptcy? Matt, I can’t do it. It’s not the Whitten way of doing business. My clients believe in me. I’ve made promises I must keep.”

Matt was only a year younger than his thirty-three-year-old friend, Rafe, but it was at times like these he felt as old as Methuselah and twice as wise. “If you’d listened to me—”

“The ranch is all I have left,” Rafe interrupted him. “When my parents died they intended for me to keep it for their grandchildren.”

“Considering fatherhood is one of your least favorite topics, why are you letting the ranch and a bunch of horses keep you from making good at least the majority of this debt?”

Rafe ground his jaw and shoved his hands into his pockets. “They’re not just horses to me, Matt.”

“Sorry,” Matt apologized. He knew how close Rafe was to his menagerie of horses, bulls, cats, dogs, ducks, birds and any other animal that was smart enough to recognize a sucker when it saw one. Matt knew from Rafe’s receipts at the Waller County Feed stores that he would rather spend money on animal feed and grain than on food for himself.

“I’ve had a lot of dreams about that ranch, Matt. I always believed I’d make them come true. Now you’re telling me it’s impossible.”

“I never said that. Miracles happen every day. It’s just that I’ve never seen any.” Discernment narrowed Matt’s brown eyes. “Have you?”

Rafe immediately stopped pacing. “No.”

Despite his resolve to banish his anger toward his former business associate, Paul Thomas, haunting visions of their college comradery bored deeply into Rafe’s trusting heart. Letting even more blood over the situation was the fact that his five-year relationship with Cheryl Hudson had ended the day she walked out of his life to be with Paul. She’d left Rafe a note saying she couldn’t wait forever till Rafe made his millions. She’d already wasted too much of her youth. She wanted to “live.”

The fact that he’d given his heart to a gold digger hurt Rafe’s pride, but not nearly as much as the knowledge that she’d never loved him in return. He’d been a fool.

More than anything Rafe hated the way his stomach still turned over every time he thought about Cheryl. Her betrayal had been so razor-sharp that he felt he’d been left for dead before he even knew he was cut. Paul’s part in Rafe’s annihilation was secondary, but it was easier for Rafe to talk about Paul than about Cheryl. At least his emotions didn’t stick so viciously in his craw.

Rafe had learned all too well that the only way to fight anger and bitterness was to turn himself off... completely. Detachment was becoming a way of life for him and it suited him just fine. Nobody could ever hurt him again as long as he didn’t allow it, he’d told himself.

Rafe turned cool blue eyes back to Matt. “What’s done is done. I can’t change the past. If you truly believe selling the ranch is the way I should go...”

“I do. There’s a slim chance we won’t have to declare bankruptcy.”

“Bankruptcy is not an option for me. Few people realize it, but that black mark is made with indelible ink.”

Rafe looked out the nineteenth-story window at the Houston skyline. Beyond downtown stretched miles of highways, out to a second skyline of buildings around the Galleria and then further out to the northwest where the sprawling city was no more than scattered pockets of houses. Where land and sky drew together on the horizon was his beloved ranch. His mouth went dry knowing he’d lost it.

How cocky he’d been just a year ago. He’d thought Houston sat squarely in the palm of his hand. Every top executive wanted to do business with him. His technology was on the cutting edge of the lightning-fast world of global telecommunications. Rafe Whitten was the “man to watch” the Houston Chronicle had written. Even the Wall Street Journal cited him for his clever deal-cutting. Money marketers and stockbrokers in every major city were salivating over the day he’d take his company public. He was going to be a multimillionaire overnight, or so everyone thought.

But his partner, Paul, had gotten too greedy, too soon. He not only blew the deal, he sold Rafe down the river while doing it. With the company coffers wiped out, Rafe owed his initial investors millions of dollars. He’d sold everything he owned, the townhouse inside the Loop, his cars, ski boat and the lake condo at Walden. This was worse than the oil crash less than a decade ago. He’d weathered that downturn despite the fact he’d only been twenty-six years old. This time, his situation was much worse; the bust came from a viper at home.

Matt could tell from the flinty look in Rafe’s eyes that his friend was thinking about Cheryl.

Rafe’s hollow voice broke the silence. “I should have listened to you, Matt. From the day I met that blond she-devil at the Houston Livestock and Rodeo Show, you told me she was bad news walking. I remember accusing you of being too cerebral, too analytical and maybe even a bit jealous. Being a good friend, you kept your mouth shut. For a while we were happy, though. The company was moving along slowly but steadily in the kind of way that makes you CPAs comfortable. I gave Cheryl enough trinkets to keep her amused. Obviously, it wasn’t enough.”

Matt stood and went over to Rafe, put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I wish I’d been wrong about her.”

“Me, too.”

“You know, Rafe, we accountants like everything neat and tidy. So I hope you won’t get mad at me if I ask you something.”

His blue eyes, now reflecting a hard steel gray, never wavered from the horizon. “What is it?”

“Something here doesn’t add up. You’ve never been gullible a moment in your life that I’ve ever seen. So how is it that someone with your brains and savvy fell for her tricks? It just doesn’t seem right. There’s a very large piece of this puzzle missing.”

Rafe shrugged. “Hey, love is blind.” He finally turned to Matt, but his eyes were colder than ever. “You can bet one thing. I’ll never let any of it happen to me again. Once bitten...”

“You can’t mean you intend to be alone forever.”

“I don’t see a problem with that. You see a problem?” Rafe asked angrily, a nerve along his jawline twitching.

“Gotcha,” Matt replied quickly, not wanting to upset his friend anymore.

Turning to the brass hatrack, Rafe took his black cowboy hat off the top hook and settled it on his head. He put his hand out to Matt. “Thanks for all your help. You’ve been a good friend.”

Feeling somehow guilty and responsible for Rafe’s solemn mood, Matt said, “Why don’t we go out for a drink before you head back to the ranch?”

“Naw. The last thing I want is to be around a bunch of people who...”

Frustrated with Rafe’s seemingly implacable need to cut himself off from humanity, Matt interrupted. “Who might be having fun? Who might take your mind off things?” Suddenly, Matt was on a mission. If he let Rafe drive home in his present mood, he would only retreat into a deeper depression. True, Rafe had good reasons to be gloomy, but he’d been telling Matt he was giving up on life. Thoughts that black had to be attacked before their stain set in permanently.

“I have things to do,” Rafe replied, as he turned toward the door.

Matt caught him by the arm. “Well, I don’t. Since I know you can’t possibly pay me all you owe me, the least you can do is buy me a beer on my birthday.”

“Aw, you’re kidding. I didn’t know it was your birthday. Of course we’ll go out.”

“Great!” Matt said grabbing his briefcase and shoving his arms in his jacket. “Actually, it’s not my birthday,” he confessed sheepishly as he held the office door for Rafe.

“Why, you little...” Rafe playfully raised his fist.

“Watch it. You’re bigger than I am. It was only a little lie. Besides, today must be somebody’s birthday.”

“Look, Matt. I’ll have a beer with you, but I’m not going to celebrate,” Rafe said with finality as they left.