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The Black Sheep's Inheritance(26)

By:Maureen Child


"Not the Jackson cabin?"

She threw him a quick look and her eyes flared as if she were remembering their encounter. "I don't know yet. Maybe."

Nodding, Sage continued on to the shed and sensed rather than heard her follow him. And naturally, she was still talking.

"Going back to me being surprised at you doing the repairs to one of  the buildings...I don't know, I guess I thought you would have one of  the men who work for you do the minor repairs." She waved one hand to  encompass the whole of the yard and the half dozen or so ranch hands  working at different tasks.

His long strides never slowed, though he knew she had to be hurrying to  keep up with him. "J.D. always said, 'Don't be afraid to do your own  work. Men will respect you for it.'"

Frowning, he wondered where that had come from. He wasn't really in the  habit of quoting his father. Yet it seemed that since J.D. died, Sage  had thought more about him than he had in years. And the situation  wasn't helped by Colleen's presence. After all, the only reason they  were together at all was because of the old man.

"So you do have some good memories of J.D."                       
       
           



       

"Didn't say they were good ones," he muttered, leading the way into the shed. "Just memories."

Inside it was cool and dark. The walls were covered with hooks from  which clean, cared-for tools hung neatly. One wall contained a long  workbench with drawers beneath it and the rest of the place held  everything from shovels to snowplows.

With her standing so close to him, it was hard to keep hold of his own  self-control. Desire pulsed heavily inside him even while his brain kept  shouting for caution. If he had any hope of keeping his mind clear, he  needed some distance between them. Releasing a breath, Colleen glanced  around the shed. "I won't need anywhere near this much equipment," she  said as if to herself.

"You'll need plenty of it, though," he warned, taking the opportunity  to spread a little more doubt in her mind. "Snowblower or plow. Shovels,  pickaxes, and by the way, that old Jeep of yours isn't going to cut it  up here, either."

"What?" She flashed him a stunned look. "Why not?"

"For one thing, it's too small. You'll need a truck."

At that, she laughed a little. "Why would I need a truck? My Jeep has been fine for me in the snow."

"The wheelbase is too short," he told her, and shook his head when he  saw the blank confusion in her eyes. "Too easily tipped over. And in a  high wind on the mountain road..."

She shivered as he'd meant her to-because the thought of her navigating  those switchback curves alone in a storm gave him a damn heart attack.

"For another thing," he added, "you'll need the truck bed, because  there's no trash collection here. You'll have to make trips to the dump  yourself."

She chewed at her bottom lip and Sage felt a confusing mix of  satisfaction and guilt. He didn't necessarily want to be the one to ruin  her dream. But hell if he wanted her alone in a situation she wasn't  prepared for either.

"Where's the dump?"

"I can show you." And that would serve as a negative, too. Once she got  a whiff of the dump, she'd be less inclined to have to go there  regularly.

"Okay..."

"There's no mail delivery up here either," he said while he still held her attention. "You'll have to get a P.O. box in town."

She sighed. "I hadn't thought it would be so complicated." Turning in a  slow circle, she let her gaze wander over the walls of tools as if she  were trying to figure out how to use them. "All I want to do is live on  the mountain, closer to where my patients will be."

"Most things generally are complicated," he said, emptying the work  bucket he'd brought in with him. He opened drawers, returning the  hammer, nails and leftover shingles to their proper places and when he  was finished, he turned to find Colleen staring at him, a smile as  bright as sunlight on her face. "And when you live up here-especially  alone-you have to expect to take care of a lot of things most people  don't worry about...what are you smiling at?"

"You." She shrugged. "It's funny, but I don't think I ever pictured you as being a fix-it kind of guy."

"Yeah, well." He closed the drawer and walked to set the bucket down in  a corner of the shed. "J.D. had Dylan and I working all over Big Blue  when we were kids. The two of us had a chores list that would make a  grown man weep. We worked with the cattle and the horses, learned how to  rebuild engines and shingle roofs when they needed it." He leaned one  hip against the workbench, folded his arms across his chest and  continued, "J.D. thought we should know the place from the ground up. Be  familiar with everything so we were never at the mercy of anyone else.  During school, we had plenty of time for homework, but during summer, he  worked us both."

She tipped her head to one side and looked up at him. "Sounds like it was hard work."

"It was," he admitted, realizing he hadn't thought about those times in  years. When they were kids, he and Dylan had hated all the chores. But  they'd learned. Not that Dylan needed most of those lessons today, what  with spearheading the Lassiter Grill Group. But Sage could admit, at  least to himself, that everything he'd learned on the Big Blue had  helped him run his own ranch better than he might have done otherwise.  Sourly, he acknowledged that growing up as J.D. Lassiter's son had  prepared him for the kind of life he had always wanted to live.                       
       
           



       

All those hot summers spent training horses, riding the range rounding  up stray cattle. The long hours sweeping out the stable and the barn.  The backbreaking task of clearing brush away from the main house. He and  his younger brother had become part of the crew working Big Blue. The  other wranglers and cowboys accepted them as equals, not the boss's  adopted kids.

Shaking his head, Sage looked back on it all now and could see that  J.D. had been helping them build their own places on Big Blue. To feel a  part of the ranch. He'd been giving them a foundation. Roots to replace  the ones they'd lost.

"Crafty old goat," he muttered, with just a touch of admiration for the father he had resented for so long.

"He really was, wasn't he?"

Sage caught the indulgent smile on her face and stiffened. But Colleen  was unaware of the change in him, because she kept talking.

"He used to make me laugh," she was saying. "He couldn't get out much  in his last couple of months, but he managed to steer everyone around  him into doing just what he wanted them to do. He ran the ranch from his  bed and his recliner. He even convinced me to accompany him to the  rehearsal dinner," she added softly, "when I knew he wasn't well enough  for the stress of the evening."

"That wasn't your fault," he said quickly.

"Wasn't it?" Her gaze locked with his. "I was his nurse. Supposed to  guard his failing health, not give in to him when I knew it was  dangerous." She reached up and pushed her hair back from her face, and  suddenly Sage thought of how it had felt to have his own hands in that  thick, silky mass.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed that thought aside and only said, "J.D.  had a way of getting just what he wanted from folks. You shouldn't feel  guilty about being one of them."

"He was a lovely man," she whispered. "Hard, but fair. Tough, but he  loved his family. All of you. He talked about you all so much..."

Sage's ears perked up. "Did he?"

"Oh, yes." She walked closer to him, running her fingertips along the  edge of the workbench. "He was so proud of Dylan's work with the grill.  And he talked about Angie all the time-"

She broke off, as if remembering that J.D.'s will sort of belied that last statement.

"And you." She moved even closer and he caught her scent on the still,  cool air. The scent that had haunted him all night long. Her eyes shone  up at him with innocence and pleasure, as if she was really enjoying  being able to share all of this with him. "He took so much pride in what  you've built. He used to go on and on about how you made your first  million while you were in school, and how he'd had to go to great  lengths to convince you to stay at college when all you really wanted to  do was build your own ranch-"

Sage's vision went red. And just like that, the seductive, sensual air  between him and Colleen sizzled into an inferno that apparently only he  could sense. His mind burned and thoughts chased each other through the  darkness spreading through him. Years-old fury reawakened as if it had  never gone to sleep, and he trembled with the force of the control  required to keep from shouting out his rage.