Terms of a Texas Marriage(17)
Stunned, she accepted the offering. She looked from the blooms to Alec and couldn’t stop the smile that widened her lips. It was a thoughtful gesture and one she never would have expected from him.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “And you’re right—the flowers are remarkable this time of year. You might want to stay clear of the blue ones. They’re the state flower and I don’t think we’re supposed to pick them.”
“Ah,” Alec nodded his head, indicating message received. “Okay. Well, I need a shower.”
As he left the room, Shea looked at the colorful bouquet. The mixed colors of yellow, orange, pink and blue would indeed make a pretty table setting. She selected a crystal glass from the cabinet, added water and arranged the blooms before placing the small arrangement in the center of the table.
Alec Morreston had brought her flowers.
He probably had a hidden agenda in there somewhere, but that thought couldn’t diminish the delight she felt receiving the small gift. She’d be wise to keep up her guard and watch him like a starving hawk would a mouse. He had to be up to something. But for now, she would enjoy the flowers and consider this nothing more than a thoughtful gesture.
Later, when they all sat down for dinner, Alec spoke with enthusiasm about what they’d accomplished that day, asking her questions about the ranch setup or the livestock, but stopping just short of making any suggestions. Why try to improve something that, if he had his way, wouldn’t be here in a year? But it let her see more of the man he was beneath the business suit. Locked away inside her where no one could see, a seed of respect for him had begun to take root and grow.
As she gathered the empty plates from the table and placed them in the soapy water, Shea was suddenly overcome with an intense wave of sadness. Between the gestures of kindness, the unspoken treaty between them for Scotty’s sake and the camaraderie that had developed among Alec, Hank and the other ranch hands, it gave the illusion of one big happy family. The evening meals were a time of friendly banter, sharing humorous stories of the past and ideas for a future that possibly would never be. Even little Scotty played into the role of her loving son. And she was beginning to love him. She couldn’t keep herself from forming a bond with such an adorable, bright child.
Each day seemed to intensify the illusion and it was becoming more difficult to remember that this was not a family. It was not a time for joking. There should be no camaraderie. This was not a game of pretend. It was war. And it was very real. A mandatory sentence forcing two opposing, equally determined individuals into a life-changing competition requiring constant stamina and strength of mind to win the grand prize, all within preposterous directives set up two hundred years ago by individuals unknown and for reasons she couldn’t fathom. It was clearly a chapter out of a Stephen King novel.
At times she felt herself slipping into the illusion, letting it envelop her, as though something deep inside wanted it to become real with a desperation that was off the scale. The dangers of this were obvious. She had to remain focused. She had to remember that this illusion of a happy home with a handsome, caring husband and loving child was not reality. And never would be.
The ledger remained open awaiting a final calculation, but it was just a closing formality. She already knew the profit margin, while small, was clearly there. As long as the beef prices didn’t take a sudden plunge before they shipped, the ranch would have a profitable year.
A soft knocking from the open doorway pulled her attention from the columns of figures. She glanced up to see Alec stroll into the room. His gaze rested first on her, then shifted to the collage of framed photographs hanging neatly on the wall to his left.
“Mind if I just look around?”
She shrugged. “Go ahead.”
She tried to return her attention to the ledger but his presence presented a distraction she couldn’t easily ignore.
“I noticed these right after I arrived.” He scanned the wall of framed photographs. “Some of these pictures are really old.”
“I think the oldest ones are from the mid-1800s.”
Pictures of cowboys with their horses, branding operations, women dressed in styles portraying Western fashion almost two hundred years ago.
“Is this your father?” He pointed to a picture in the upper right corner of the grouping.
“Yes.”
“Who are the two men with the longhorn?”
“My grandfather and his brother,” she answered, never taking her eyes from the computer screen. She didn’t need to. She knew the snapshots by heart. “They were one of seven families credited with bringing the longhorn back from near extinction.”
Alec moved farther down the wall. “There’s a kid on a horse getting some kind of award,” he said, observing another picture. “Is it you?”
“Yeah.” She saw no reason to elaborate.
“And what about this one?”
Shea glanced at the wall. He pointed to picture of a child astride a large dapple-gray thoroughbred. “That’s me on Sir Raleigh at the hunter-jumper competition at Fair Park in Dallas. I was about twelve.” She nodded to the next picture. “You might recognize the person in that one.”
Alec leaned toward the picture. “Leona?”
She nodded, unable to restrain a smile. “It was taken several years ago during a Fourth of July party.”
“She looks...different.”
“She was smashed. Somebody spiked her watermelon punch.”
Alec grinned. “These are fascinating pictures. I feel as though I’m looking at a wall in a cowboy history museum.”
He glanced at Shea. In surprising contrast to the usual glare she sent in his direction, she was smiling. He walked over to the old leather wing-backed chair that faced the massive oak desk and sat down.
“When I was a teenager, there was a fairly large stable a few miles from our summer house in Saratoga County in upstate New York,” he said, leaning back and resting one booted ankle on the other knee. “The Tall Pine Stables.” He shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it in years. My dad was determined his sons would learn the value of a dollar. I was given the choice of working in his office during the summer—” Alec nodded at the ledger “—which meant sitting behind a desk. Or I could find my own job. Most of my friends got summer work flipping burgers, sacking groceries or caddying at the country club. I was lucky enough to find work mucking out horse stalls.”
“You?” Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew wide.
Alec chuckled. “Yeah, me. Not fun, as I’m sure you know. But I loved the horses, so I stuck it out. Went back the next two summers and the second year the owner began to supplement my pay with the bonus of exercising a few of the thoroughbreds. It was...amazing. I loved their spirit. I swore I would have one of my own someday.”
“And did you?”
“Nah.” He shrugged. “Just never worked out.”
He envied Shea her life and the way she’d been raised. Close to the land and nature. It had always beckoned him, but he’d never stopped long enough to heed the call.
“That’s really too bad.” Her voice was soft, as though she was truly sorry he’d never seen that dream realized. “You’ve still got time. And I think Scott would love it. He seems to have inherited your love of horses.”
Alec nodded. “Yeah. So it would appear.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “I might never have known if we hadn’t come here. Maybe I can work something out.” He stood from the chair. “I’ll get out of here and let you finish your work. Guess I’d better go and check on Scott.” He walked to the door.
“Alec?”
“Yeah.” He faced her.
“Thanks for sharing that with me.”
She smiled and while it was cautious and hesitant, nonetheless something deep inside him felt very good.
It was almost midnight when Shea stretched and stood up, flexing her tired muscles. After Alec’s visit, it had taken quite a while to regain her concentration on the work she’d needed to finish. To say she’d been surprised by his story of working summers at a stable was an understatement. She never would have pictured Alec Morreston mucking stalls. Or riding thoroughbreds. His professed love of horses seemed to contradict his intent to close the ranch. It was yet another layer of the complex man. It would be prudent to watch him even closer. Apparently there was much more to Alec than she’d originally thought and he could use any accrued knowledge against her, which brought back the earlier sadness and added to the growing stress she already was feeling.
At times, she felt as if she was a stranger in her own home. She wasn’t used to not trusting people, to always being on guard, having to watch her every action and word, being alert to anything Alec did or saw as potentially giving him leverage to take the ranch. It was like walking a tightrope and even though she would never admit it aloud, it was taking its toll. Her nerves were shot to hell and frustration was building. She had to wonder how much longer this situation would last before it blew sky high.
With a sigh, she turned off the computer, returned the ledger to the bottom drawer of the desk, flipped off the light and left the office. A hot shower sounded wonderful. The few minutes of relaxation it would provide were definitely needed.