Читать книгу Wed By Fortune - Judy Duarte, Judy Duarte - Страница 7

Chapter One

Graham Robinson had spent the morning working up a good sweat, thanks to a drunken teenager who’d gotten behind the wheel of a Cadillac Escalade after a rowdy, unsupervised party last night.

The kid had apparently lost control of the expensive, late-model SUV and plowed through a large section of the fence at the Galloping G Ranch, where Graham lived. Then he left the vehicle behind and ran off.

Both Graham and the sheriff who’d been here earlier knew it had been a teenager because on the passenger seat a frayed backpack, as well as a catcher’s mitt, sat next to an invitation with directions to a ranch six miles down the road.

Sadly, the same thing could easily have happened to him, when he’d been seventeen. That’s why he and Roger Gibault, his friend and the owner of the ranch, were determined to turn the Galloping G into a place where troubled teenage boys could turn their lives around.

Back in the day, both Graham and Roger’s late son had what Roger called rebellious streaks. Graham’s dad, the patriarch of the famous Austin Robinsons—and an alleged member of the Fortune family—wasn’t so open-minded.

But after Peter’s tragic death, things had changed. Graham had changed. Now, instead of creating problems for others to clean up, Graham was digging out several damaged posts and replacing broken railings.

After he hammered one last nail into the rail he’d been fixing, he blew out a sigh and glanced at the well-trained Appaloosa gelding that was grazing nearby on an expanse of green grass. He’d driven out here earlier in the twelve-year-old Gator ATV, but the engine had been skipping. So after unloading his tools and supplies, he’d taken it back to the barn, where Roger could work on the engine. Then he’d ridden back on the gelding. Hopefully, Roger had the vehicle fixed by now. If not, they’d probably have to replace it with a newer model.

When the familiar John Deere engine sounded, Graham looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Roger had worked his mechanical magic and was approaching at a fairly good clip.

Moments later, the aging rancher pulled to a stop, the engine idling smoothly.

Glad to have a break, Graham winked at his elderly friend. “Did you come out here to check up on me and make sure I wasn’t loafing?”

“I knew better than that. I’d be more apt to make sure you hadn’t worked yourself to death.” Roger lifted his battered black Stetson, then raked a hand through his thinning gray hair.

The fact that he hadn’t returned Graham’s smile was cause for concern. “What’s up?”

Roger paused for a beat, then said, “Sasha-Marie just called. She’s on her way here.”

Graham nearly dropped the hammer he was holding. Roger and his niece had once been close, but they’d drifted apart after her marriage. “Is she still living in California?”

“I don’t think so. But I’m not sure.”

When Sasha-Marie had been in kindergarten, she lost her parents in a small plane crash. Her maternal grandparents, who lived in Austin, were granted custody, but she spent many of her school vacations with Roger, her paternal uncle.

Since Roger and his late wife had only one child, a son who’d been born to them late in life, Sasha-Marie became the daughter they’d never had and the apple of her doting uncle’s eye.

Roger had been proud when she went off to college, but he hadn’t approved of the man she’d met there and started dating. After she married the guy and moved out of state, Roger rarely mentioned her.

Graham hadn’t met her husband. He’d been invited to the wedding, although he hadn’t attended. He’d come down with a nasty stomach flu and had stayed on the ranch.

According to Roger, it had been a “big wingding,” and most likely the sort of elegant affair that Graham’s family usually put on, the kind of function he still did his best to avoid whenever possible.

On the morning of the wedding, as Graham had gone to replenish a glass of water, he’d met Roger in the Galloping G kitchen. Roger had been dressed in a rented tuxedo, his hair slicked back, his lips pursed in a scowl. His job was to give away the bride, but he hadn’t been happy about it.

“This ain’t right,” he’d said.

Graham thought he might be talking about the monkey suit he’d been asked to wear. “You mean all the wedding formalities?”

Roger shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t hear it. Just because she’s gone off to college, she thinks she’s bright. But she’s been so blinded by all the glitz and glamour she can’t see what a louse her future husband really is.”

Having grown up in tech mogul Gerald Robinson’s household, Graham had experienced plenty of glitz and glamour himself. He knew a lot of phony people who flashed their wealth, which was one reason he was content to be a cowboy and manage the Galloping G for Roger.

The other reason was that he wanted to look out for the old rancher and his best interests. That’s why the news of Sasha’s return today was a big deal.

“Is Sasha’s husband coming with her?” Graham asked.

“Nope.” Roger placed his hat back on his head, adjusting it properly and shading his eyes from the afternoon sun.

Graham wondered if the older man would offer up another comment, but he kept his thoughts to himself. That really wasn’t surprising. He’d been pretty close-lipped about Sasha since the wedding, which must have been eight or more years ago. Graham had tried to get him to talk about his anger and disappointment, thinking that might help. But he respected the man’s silence. He also sympathized with him.

After Sasha gave birth to a baby—a girl, if Graham remembered correctly—Roger had gone to visit her in California. He’d not only wanted to see his great-niece, but he’d also hoped to mend fences. Two days later he’d returned to the ranch, just as quiet as he’d been before. Graham’s only clue to what had transpired was the response to his single question about how things went.

“Not well,” Roger had said. And that had pretty much been the end of it.

Graham stole a glance at the man who’d become more of a father to him than his own dad. But then again, they’d weathered Peter’s death together, leaning on each other so they could get through the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking grief.

Bonds like that were strong. And they lasted a lifetime.

Roger stared out in the distance at the two-lane highway that led to the big ranch house in which he now lived alone. Was he looking for Sasha’s car?

Or was he just pondering the blowup that he’d had with her husband? Graham wasn’t privy to all that had happened on Sasha’s wedding day, but he did know that Gabe had, in so many words, told Roger to butt out of Sasha’s life.

So the rift had always weighed heavily on his mind—and it probably still did.

“It’s a good sign that she felt like she could call and talk to you,” Graham said.

“I agree.” Roger heaved a heavy sigh. “She didn’t tell me what brought about the sudden change of heart, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Either way, for your sake, I’m glad she’s coming without her husband.”

Roger snorted. “I always figured Gabe for a fast-talking womanizer who’d end up breaking her heart down the road. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to be proven wrong.”

“You won’t hold any of that against Sasha, will you?”

“Hell no. I’d never do that. But I’ll tell you, Graham, it hurt like a son of a gun when she left Texas. And while I’m glad she reached out to me just now, I’m leery about pushing myself on her too quickly.”

Whatever had gone down between Roger and the groom at the church had nearly destroyed the relationship Roger once had with his niece.

“How long is she going to be here?” Graham asked. He assumed it’d be for a few days to a week.

“I don’t have the foggiest idea, but I told her she could stay as long as she wanted.”

Sasha had been a cute kid. She’d tagged along after Graham and Peter when they were teenagers, wanting to be included—and being a pest more times than not. She was probably close to thirty now, but Graham would always remember her as a skinny young girl with braces and a scatter of freckles across her nose.

Roger glanced out to the road again, squinting as he scanned the empty stretch of blacktop.

“Do you know what kind of car she drives?” Graham asked.

“Nope.” The older man turned, sporting a wry grin. “I guess it’s pretty obvious that I’m watching for her to arrive.”

“Just a bit.”

When a car engine sounded in the distance and grew louder, both men turned and spotted a white Honda Civic heading down the road. A blonde woman was driving, although the car was too far away to get a glimpse of her face.

“That might be Sasha-Marie now,” Roger said.

It was hard to know for sure, although Roger was clearly eager to have her back on the Galloping G, no matter how short her stay.

“I’ll finish up here,” Graham said. “Why don’t you go back to the house so you can greet her?”

“Nope. I want you to come with me. You can get those tools later. Mount up.”

Graham scanned the fence he’d been working on, realizing it wasn’t going anywhere. And apparently, neither was that Escalade if he enclosed it in the pasture before the owner came to claim it.

“All right,” he said, “but why do you want me to be there?”

Roger scowled and rolled his eyes. “Because I never have been able to keep my opinions to myself. And if I slip up and say ‘I told you so’ or something negative about that jerk she’s married to, I’ll probably make things worse than they already are. So if you think I’m about to blurt out something like that, I want you to give me a wallop upside the head.”

Roger had a point. He was a good man, hardworking and honest to a fault. But he’d never been one to hold back an opinion, no matter how rough it was around the edges. So Graham left his tools near the post he’d just cemented back into place, grabbed the Appaloosa’s reins and swung into the saddle. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Neither of them knew for sure if the blonde driver had been Sasha, but on the outside chance that it was, they’d both be welcoming her home.

* * *

Sasha Gibault Smith parked near Uncle Roger’s big white barn, but she didn’t get out of the car right away. Instead, even though she needed to stretch her legs, she remained seated, gripping the steering wheel and studying the ranch she used to love to visit.

She’d started out from Los Angeles yesterday morning and had spent the night in El Paso, but it had still been a difficult trip, one she’d made with her tail tucked between her legs.

She adored Uncle Roger, but whenever she’d gone against his advice, he’d had a habit of saying, “I told you so” or “Dang it, girl. Why don’t you ever listen to me?” And this time, he’d been especially right in his assessment of Gabe Smith.

Needless to say, she wasn’t looking forward to adding any additional guilt to what she already carried, especially now. That was one reason she’d been reluctant to call her uncle until she was only thirty minutes away.

She hadn’t gone into detail about why she was coming back to Texas. Nor had she apologized for anything she or her now-estranged husband had done to hurt him. She’d merely asked if she could stay with him on the Galloping G for a while.

Before answering her question, he’d had one of his own. “Is Gabe coming with you?”

She’d said no, that it was just her and Maddie, and left it at that. She hadn’t been ready to tell him any more over the phone.

“Stay as long as you want,” Uncle Roger had said. “The city isn’t a good place to raise a child.” At that point, he’d paused, maybe rethinking his response. “I mean, city life is okay. Lots of cultural stuff and shopping, I suppose. But the fresh air and sunshine will be good for Maddie.”

Bless his heart, Roger was the gruffest yet kindest man she’d ever known. And she was looking forward to mending their relationship, something she should have done a long time ago. But Gabe had made it so difficult. He’d made everything difficult.

She glanced into the rearview mirror to the backseat, where Maddie dozed. Her seven-year-old daughter was the only good thing that had come of her relationship with Gabe, so how could she regret marrying him?

But still, why hadn’t she listened to Uncle Roger when he warned her about him?

Because she’d been dazzled by Gabe’s charm and enamored with the very idea of love, that’s why. She’d lost her parents when she was young, and all she’d ever wanted was to create a family of her own. But that dream had certainly backfired on her.

She’d been a fool not to see the truth. Gabe hadn’t been capable of loving anyone but himself. And the fact that she’d signed the prenuptial agreement he’d said would appease his wealthy father only made it worse. What would Roger have said to that?

She could only imagine. She placed a hand on her growing baby bump, which had made it more difficult to reach the gas pedal, as well as the steering wheel, since she was merely five foot two, anyway.

The second pregnancy not only had led to her and Gabe’s split, but had also complicated things. Gabe, who hadn’t really wanted to have kids, would have to provide financially for both of them. His family came from money, so that hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as the idea of coming home day after day to Sasha and the kids.

In fact, once Maddie was born, he began spending more and more time at the office. Sasha tried not to resent his time away from home since he’d said he was doing it for them, that he was only trying to be a good provider for his family. And maybe that was true. But she’d soon realized that Gabe was a quitter. Whenever something didn’t go the way he liked it, he’d move on to another job.

The poor baby she was carrying, another little girl, hadn’t asked to be brought into the world. But Gabe had barely gotten used to having Maddie. So when he found out Sasha was expecting again, he packed his bags and moved out.

It’s not like she had intended to get pregnant this time. In fact, she still marveled at how it had even happened, since she and Gabe were so rarely together.

But none of that mattered. Her only priority now was her children. Come hell or high water, Sasha would do everything in her power to provide her daughters with love and security. And what better place to do that than at the Galloping G?

She just hoped Uncle Roger would agree. Her heart told her he would, but she’d never know until she broached the subject.

Again, she glanced in the rearview mirror. She didn’t want to wake Maddie from her nap quite yet. The little girl hadn’t felt comfortable in that motel room last night and had taken a long time to fall asleep. So to provide Maddie a few extra minutes to snooze in comfort, Sasha lowered the power windows to allow the afternoon breeze to blow through the car. Then she pulled the key from the ignition and placed it in her purse.

Before she could open the driver’s door, a John Deere Gator drove into the yard, followed by a cowboy on horseback.

The man driving the Gator was Uncle Roger. And the cowboy...?

A Stetson shielded his face, but not his broad shoulders and rugged build. When he tilted the brim, she recognized Graham Robinson, and her breath caught.

His saddle creaked when he placed his hands on the pommel and leaned forward, checking her out without the hint of a smile. But she wasn’t smiling, either. Talking to Uncle Roger would be hard enough without an audience.

What was Graham doing here? Hadn’t he kicked his cowboy stage by now? Shouldn’t he be working at Robinson Tech, raking in the dough and living the fast-paced urban life he’d been born into?

Not that he hadn’t practically lived on the Galloping G during the summers when she used to come and visit. Graham and her cousin Peter had been best friends—and almost inseparable. Then, after Peter died, Graham had practically moved in.

She’d had a huge crush on the older teenage boy back then, but he’d only considered her a kid and a nuisance. In retrospect, she could understand why. He’d had his choice of high school girls. Why would he take a second look at her?

Besides, he and Peter were always talking about parties and all the places local teenagers hung out. Once she’d even heard them mention something about skinny-dipping with a couple of cheerleaders. So, no, Graham had never looked at her as anything other than a pesky little kid.

Uncle Roger approached first, which didn’t surprise her. He was, after all, the one she’d come to see.

She tore her gaze from Graham, a wealthy man by all rights who appeared to be more comfortable on horseback than in a snazzy BMW, something he could well afford to buy. At least, he’d never been without a wad of cash in the past. His dad owned a big tech company and had been loaded. He probably still was.

When Roger reached her car, Sasha was reluctant to get out. She hadn’t told him about her pregnancy, although he was about to find out.

He took off his hat, revealing more silver in his hair than the last time she’d seen him. His face had weathered, too.

Her heart cramped at the thought that she and Gabe might have contributed to the signs of age.

“How was the drive?” he asked.

She lifted her hand to her eyes, blocking the glare from the afternoon sun. “It was long. But not too bad.”

Uncle Roger took a peek into the backseat. “Looks like Maddie dozed off. You gonna wake her up?”

“I hadn’t wanted to. She didn’t sleep well last night. We stayed in a roadside motel, which had a truck stop next door, so it was pretty loud outside. But she’s been eager to get here. And to meet you. It’s all she could talk about.”

As Uncle Roger studied her sweet, dozing daughter, Sasha stole another glance at Graham. He was dismounting now.

The years had been good to him, and as he swung a muscular leg over the saddle, all those girlish feelings returned tenfold. For one crazy, thoughtless moment, that silly crush she’d once harbored came rushing back full force and nearly stole her breath away.

She’d never met a man who could hold a candle to Graham in looks. In fact, if she weren’t seven months pregnant and still—at least, legally—married, she’d be a goner.

Well, that wasn’t true. She was older and wiser these days. And she’d learned the hard way that no man was perfect. Besides, she’d be swearing off romance and concentrating on her children for the next couple of years.

“You gonna sit in that car all day?” her uncle asked.

No, she wasn’t about to do that. And while she wasn’t eager to reveal her condition to either Roger or to Graham, she opened the door, grabbed her purse and slid out of her trusty Honda Civic.

The moment she did, Uncle Roger let out a slow whistle. But it wasn’t Roger’s reaction that concerned her now. For some dumb reason, she looked straight at Graham and waited for his response.

* * *

The first thing Graham noticed when Sasha got out of the car and stepped into the afternoon sunlight was that she was no longer the cute little tomboy he remembered. She was a stunning blonde and absolutely beautiful.

But damn. She was also pregnant. And while he was no expert, from the looks of it, she was about ready to deliver.

Were women in her condition supposed to travel, especially on long road trips?

Roger stepped away from Sasha’s car, then strode toward Graham and reached out his hand. “Gimme those reins. I’ll take care of your horse.”

What the hell? And leave Graham to make small talk?

He would have objected and insisted on putting the horse away himself, but Roger was probably afraid to stick around any longer for fear he’d say something to screw things up before he got a chance to take Sasha’s luggage inside. Speaking of which...

“Let me get your bags,” Graham said.

“They’re back here.” Sasha, with the strap of her purse over her shoulder and her hand perched on her belly, rounded the car and opened her trunk.

She hadn’t brought much, just two suitcases, so maybe she didn’t plan to stay long.

“Is this it?” he asked.

“I...uh...” She gave a shrug. “I shipped everything else.”

Everything? What all had she thought she’d need? Was she going to move in?

He lifted both bags from the car, and she shut the trunk. As he carried the suitcases to the front porch, he stole a peek at the lovely blonde.

Somewhere along the way, she’d shed the braces. And in spite of her obvious pregnancy, she’d blossomed into a shapely woman, one he found incredibly attractive. His heart rate had escalated to the point he felt what could almost be classified a sexual thrill just looking at her.

What did that say about him? What kind of man found a pregnant married woman so appealing?

He wasn’t going to stew about it. Instead he shook off the question, as well as any answer he might be able to come up with. He was just surprised to see her and how much she’d changed, that’s all.

“Is your daughter going to be okay in the car?” he asked.

“I’m only going to leave her in there for a minute. I thought I’d put my bags into the room where I used to sleep. But maybe I’d better leave them in the living room until Uncle Roger tells me where he’d like us to stay. I didn’t mean to be presumptive.”

“I’m sure it’s fine to put everything in your old bedroom,” Graham said, leading the way.

As far as he knew, Roger hadn’t changed a thing since Sasha was last here, the summer of her junior year. He’d wanted things to stay the way she’d left them. But after her high school graduation, she’d stayed in Austin to prepare for college.

So she could easily see that the room with lavender walls, dotted with posters, still bore evidence of the teenager she’d once been.

Graham placed the bags on the bed, which boasted a white goose-down comforter.

Sasha set her purse on the antique oak dresser, then thanked him for his help.

“No problem.”

They merely stood there, caught up in some kind of weird time warp. Then she nodded toward the doorway. “I’d better go wake up Maddie.”

Graham followed her outside, watching her walk, the hem of her yellow sundress swishing against her shapely calves. From behind, he’d never have known she was expecting a baby.

When they reached the front porch, she paused near the railing, took a deep breath of country air and scanned the yard. “I’ve really missed this place.”

Roger would be glad to know that. It would make it easier for them to put the past behind them.

“It’s been a long time,” Graham said, finally addressing the elephant in the room. “How’ve you been?”

“All right.” She turned to face him and bit down on her bottom lip, as though things might not be “all right.” But if that was the case, she didn’t mention it. “How about you? I see you’re still hanging out on the Galloping G.”

“I live here now. In the foreman’s quarters. I guess you could say I’m your uncle’s right-hand man.”

She pondered that bit of news for a moment. “I guess some things haven’t changed.”

Actually, she was wrong. A lot had changed, and there were more big changes coming down the pike.

“So, how’s your family?” she asked.

“Same old, same old.” It was a stock response to keep from going into any real detail. Sasha didn’t know that he’d never been close to his father—and even less so now that he’d chosen not to work at Robinson Tech, like most of his other siblings.

When she nodded, he offered a more interesting response and something she might soon hear from the neighbors. “My brother Ben and my sisters Rachel and Zoe have gotten married recently. And my brother Wes is engaged.”

“That’s nice,” she said, providing her own stock response. “How recently?”

“All within the last six months.” Then, for some damn reason, he added, “We might also be taking on a new last name.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Since it was too late to backpedal now, he continued with the unsettling truth. “Apparently, my dad was once a long-lost black sheep in the Fortune clan. His name was Jerome, not Gerald.”

Graham decided not to mention that Ben and some of his other siblings had taken on the Fortune name. But he wasn’t about to do that, especially when his father refused to admit the connection.

“Wow,” Sasha said. “And you never knew?”

“No, Dad kept that a secret from us, along with other things.” Graham wasn’t about to go into all that. Not now, anyway. Maybe not ever. He wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that his old man, a guy most people considered a quirky tech mogul, had eight legitimate kids, as well as who-knew-how-many illegitimate ones.

“How do you feel about that?” she asked, easing close enough for him to catch the faint hint of her orange-blossom scent.

He blew out a sigh, hoping to eliminate the taunting smell, as well as his lingering concerns of being a shirttail relative to such a famous family. It didn’t work in either case.

“It’s been a lot for me to take in,” he admitted. “So now my life on the Galloping G holds an even bigger appeal than it did before.”

“I can imagine. News like that would be...stunning. How do your brothers and sisters feel about it?”

“Actually, some of them hope it’s true. But the others aren’t too keen on it.” Graham, of course, was on the not-exactly-pleased side of it.

He paused for a beat, realizing Sasha didn’t have siblings—or even a cousin any longer. So he didn’t want to sound as though he resented having a big family. “I suppose you can never have too many relatives. It’s a cold world out there, so the more people who have your back, the better.”

Instead of smiling or commenting, Sasha just stood there as tears welled in her eyes.

Uh-oh. He hadn’t meant to trigger her sadness. Was she missing Peter? Her parents?

She swiped below her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m sorry. Just the result of my pregnancy hormones at work.”

That made sense. And it made him feel a lot better about setting off her tears. “How far along are you?”

“Seven months.”

“Your husband must be thrilled.”

Sasha glanced down at her sandals and didn’t speak or look up for several beats.

He must have put his foot in his mouth again, although he had no idea why. Was she unhappy about the baby?

“I’m sorry if I was out of line,” Graham said.

Sasha shook her head. When she looked up and caught his gaze, her eyes were glossy. “Gabe and I...split up.” Her hand again went to her belly, caressing the mound where her baby grew. “Actually, he left me.”

Graham couldn’t imagine what would cause a man to walk away from his family when his wife was pregnant. He’d never met Gabe Smith himself, but Roger had. And the old rancher’s opinion of the guy was enough for Graham to believe the worst about him.

He’d never reveal that to Sasha, though. So he said, “That must be rough.”

“We’re doing okay. And on the upside, I’m now able to come visit Uncle Roger. Maddie is excited to see a real ranch—and horses.”

Before Graham could respond, a little girl sidled up between them. She stuck out her hand to Graham and smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “Howdy. Put ’er there, cowboy!”

He was captivated by her happy expression, by the long blond hair and bright blue eyes, so like her mama’s.

What kind of man would leave such an adorable duo? Not that Graham had ever had any reason to admire Gabe Smith. But surely he’d come to his senses and chase after them.

For some strange reason, that thought caused his gut to clench, and he found it nearly impossible to speak. He did, however, reach out and take the child’s little hand in his.

“You must be Maddie,” he said.

“Yep.” The girl stood tall, a big ol’ grin stretching across her face. “And you must be Uncle Roger.”