Chapter 3 #2
Just then, Kenny Watkins walked through the back door. Of the four Watkins brothers, Kenney was the most intense, and the one she knew the least. All four brothers had been in the military at around the same time. According to her brother, Frank, not all of them had come home the same.
Mike was a retired Army medic, but medicine wasn’t his dream.
Owning his own restaurant and cooking is what drove him—thus the dude ranch.
Joe had been a helicopter pilot in the service.
He was brilliant with finances and was partly responsible for the Watkins’ fortune—even though they all had trust funds, compliments of their grandfather Quentin’s oil field investments.
Lyle and Kenny were retired Marine Corps.
Lyle had retained his sexy, flirty, happy-go-lucky personality, but Kenny had come home a different man.
According to Frank, Kenny had been a special ops sharp shooter.
He’d seen and done things no one talked about. And it had changed him.
Kenny paused at the back door and gave her an unreadable, almost palpable look.
She felt like he was reading her mind, could hear her inner speculation, and it made her uncomfortable.
Her ex-husband, Bret, had had a similar aura about him.
But Bret’s intensity held a mean streak.
Kenny, like Lyle and his other brothers had been raised by a pastor.
A good man. They were warriors who were conditioned to rescue—not harm.
Kenny nodded. “Heather.”
“Hey,” she said.
“Your riding party should be down any minute, bro,” Mike said as he got out china plates and silverware.
“They fill out the questionnaire?”
Mike nodded toward the sideboard. “Yep. Right over there. Three of them have ridden before—one claims she’s intermediate—and the fourth is a complete novice. A little scared, it sounded like.”
Kenny retrieved the forms. “I’ll saddle up accordingly.” With a nod to Heather, he slipped out the back door as quietly as he’d come in.
“So,” Mike said with a grin. “How’s my brother, Lyle, treating you these days?”
Heather whipped her head back, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but there’s nothing going on. I’ve barely even spoken to him since he’s been back.”
“Uh-huh,” Mike said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “If you say so.”
“Mike Watkins,” she huffed, turning the topic back to safer territory. “You’ve got enough going on with this ranch to keep you busy. Maybe focus on that instead of playing matchmaker.”
“I’m just saying,” he began, putting another stack of pancakes into the warming oven, “it’d sure make things more interesting around here. And God knows Charlotte could use more people like you in her life.”
Heather felt the weight of that statement settle unexpectedly in her chest. Charlotte. That sweet little girl with eyes too old for her age. Heather was trying not to get too attached, but the bond they were forming was undeniable. And it terrified her.
Thankfully, Heather didn’t have to answer, because at that exact moment, Charlotte herself came bounding into the kitchen, Pudge riding in her arms like a princess in training. “Miss Heather! Look!” she exclaimed.
Heather crouched, gave the kitten a stroke and smiled. “Well, don’t you look like a professional with your helper cat. What’s Pudge up to today?”
“Uncle Joe says I can help him in the garden, and Pudge wants to help too,” Charlotte replied, her curls bouncing with her enthusiasm. Heather laughed softly, reaching out to adjust a stray strand of curly hair from Charlotte’s tiny face.
“I’m having the hardest time getting used to your uncles cooking and tending gardens.” She stood, noticing through the window that Lyle was headed to the barn. Chicken that she was, she decided to escape to her own sanctuary before he saw her.
Because she was starting to feel like that too-young-tag-along of their youth. Hoping for a glance or a word from the older boy who held her heart and barely knew she existed.
Out on the training field later that day, Heather was working with a pair of high-energy Labs when she saw Darren Richards’ sleek black truck pull into the driveway.
Her body tensed instinctively, her mind flipping through a thousand reasons for why he might be back.
None of them were good. She didn’t trust his persistence.
Her business wasn’t and had never been for sale.
Sure, she was trying to expand—thus the offer she’d put on the ten acres just outside of town.
But that deal was private. No one but her, Frank and the realtor knew what she had in the works.
As Darren approached, Heather didn’t wait for him to speak. “Mr. Richards,” she began, her tone polite but clipped. “What brings you back so soon?”
Darren handed her a glossy binder, the grin on his face raising her hackles. “I thought I’d do you the favor of putting my proposal in writing. Seeing as how we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”
Heather hesitated, glancing down at the binder before looking back up at him. “I already told you I’m not interested in partnerships.”
He didn’t flinch, his confidence unnervingly intact. “I understand you’re protective of what you’ve built here. But you might want to take a closer look before dismissing an opportunity like this.”
Lyle’s voice cut through the conversation before Heather could respond. “Bear Valley’s not exactly keen on outsiders shaking things up.”
Darren turned to see Lyle approaching, his easy stride belying the undercurrent of tension in his shoulders. Heather’s heart unexpectedly leaped at the sight of him, though she quickly masked it.
“Ah, Mr. Watkins,” Darren said, extending a hand with what was clearly an exaggerated air of politeness. “Always good to be neighborly.”
Lyle ignored the hand, tipping his hat instead. “Neighborly is one thing. Pushing your way into places you don’t belong is another.”
Darren didn’t miss a beat, shifting his attention back to Heather as though Lyle’s words had been an inconsequential breeze. “I won’t keep you. Just think it over, Ms. Prescott. With my financial backing and your know-how, we could really turn this business into a gold mine. The offer stands.”
With that, he climbed back into his truck, the engine roaring to life like a predator retreating.
Lyle watched Darren’s truck disappear down the long drive, his jaw clenched and his fists resting loosely on his hips.
“Are you spying on me or something? You don’t need to come running to my rescue every time a vehicle shows up in my driveway, Lyle.”
“I’m not spying. The main road is in clear view of the barn so I can see everyone who drives onto the property. I don’t like the way that guy keeps coming around.”
Heather sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “This is only his second visit.”
“Maybe so. But I don’t think he’s here to play fair. That’s just my gut talking, but my gut’s usually right.” His gaze turned to meet hers. “You need me to step in?”
“Seems like you already did. But for what? I honestly don’t know why he’s interested or what he really wants. I’m just a small operation, and I’ve never indicated that I wanted a partner or wanted to sell.”
“You’re bigger than you think, Heather. Prescott’s Pups’ name is pretty famous in the dog training world.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Google is my friend,” he said with a grin. “And I’m not the only one around here folks gossip about.”
She smiled, secretly flattered that he’d researched her. “Folks should have better things to do than speculate about their neighbors, hmm?”
“You’d think.” He gave her a soft grin.
“I can handle Darren Richards, Lyle,” she said, not unkindly. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
“I’m sure you have.” His voice softened.
“And maybe you’ll tell me about that sometime.
But handling slick brokers who appear to have ulterior motives doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.
You’ve got a whole platoon of military muscle surrounding you.
Me in particular. So, you should take me up on my offer. ”
Heather’s heart did the tiniest somersault at his words before she quickly shut the feeling down.
Staying guarded was safer for everyone. Safer for her.
Safer for him. And definitely safer for Charlotte.
Heather had been burned by marriage and trusting another relationship, another man, wasn’t something she was prepared to do in the near future.
Maybe never.
No sense creating attachments when someone was bound to get hurt.
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, her tone leaving plenty unsaid. “Maybe he’ll just give up since I’ve made it clear I’m not interested in whatever he’s offering.”
“We can hope. I’ll have Joe dig a little into the guy’s background. See what he comes up with.”
“Lyle—”
“Can’t hurt to be one step ahead. And Joe’s really good on a computer.”
Although she didn’t particularly care for Lyle’s insistence on taking charge, she wouldn’t mind knowing a little more about Darren Richards. She had no idea if there was a battle to be fought, but if there was, she didn’t plan to surrender her control, to allow a man to swoop in and take over.
Even if that man made her heart skip and yearn.