Wearing the Rancher's Ring. Stella Bagwell
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by to see if Jett had finished writing up that contract for the bull sales. Kim said he’d already left for the day, but had finalized the contract. So that’s good. I want to use that money for more mama cows.”
Clancy gestured to the telephone. “According to the guy I was just talking to you could get thousands of dollars by just signing your name.”
Orin’s frown was skeptical. “Oh. Who was it? Some cattle broker?”
“No. It was that lease hound—the one working for the mining company. This is the second call I’ve gotten from him in the last month.”
Orin’s head wagged back and forth in disbelief. “Even when silver prices were up a few months ago, they were still at the bottom. The effort would do nothing more than tear up our land. Didn’t you make it clear that we weren’t interested?”
“Very clear. But then he started talking gold. I told him there’s never been an indication of gold on the ranch. And that we’re not interested in looking,” Clancy told him.
“Damn right. Here on the Horn our gold is the four-legged sort. That’s the only kind I want to deal with.” Orin slipped off the edge of the desk. “Okay. I’m off to town. Noreen is giving a dinner party in honor of a coworker that’s moving away. For some reason she wanted me to be there.”
Clancy gave his father a pointed smile. “The reason might be that she likes you.”
Orin grinned sheepishly and Clancy couldn’t help but notice that his father looked years younger than this time last year.
“Maybe. A little.” His grin suddenly faded to a look of faint uncertainty. “I’m sure most everyone is calling me a fool for being interested in a woman that’s so much younger than me.”
Noreen was forty-five and looked even younger. Yet Clancy could hardly fault the woman for that. Nor did he want his father to worry over it. “Look, Dad, that’s no one else’s business but your own. If it doesn’t bother you or her, then it’s sure okay with me.”
Orin shrugged. “You’re still young. But a guy like me—I guess I get to wondering what I have to offer her over a man closer to her age. I’ll never look like a—what does the younger generation call a stud now?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Clancy answered drily. “You need to ask Rafe or Finn that question.”
Orin chuckled. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll never look that way again.”
Rising to his feet, Clancy switched off the computer on his desk and picked up a stack of papers. “Don’t sell yourself short, Dad.”
The two men left the office and Clancy paused long enough to drop the work on his secretary’s desk. “I don’t need this until tomorrow afternoon,” he told the young woman with short, chestnut-colored hair. “Go ahead and close up the office.”
The secretary glanced at a big, cedar-framed clock hanging on the wall behind her head. “There’s still an hour to go until quitting time, Clancy.”
He gave her a wink. “Then you’re getting an hour off.”
“And don’t question your boss,” Orin teased her. “Take what you can get out of him.”
Expressing her thanks, the secretary began to shut down the workplace and the two men departed the office building. Outside in the chilly twilight, Orin quickly bade his son good-night and climbed into one of the ranch’s many work trucks.
Obviously, his father wasn’t trying to impress Noreen by showing up in a fancy vehicle, Clancy thought. As for Olivia, he’d learned the hard way that money, or what it could buy, didn’t impress her. If she’d married him, he would have gladly given her anything and everything she’d desired. But she hadn’t wanted wealth. And clearly, she hadn’t needed him. So what did that make him for wanting to take her to dinner tonight? A glutton for punishment? Or a man trying to rid himself of a haunting past?
* * *
An hour later, some thirty miles away in Olivia’s modest stucco, she was digging through her jewelry for a certain pair of earrings when she came across a little white cardboard box pushed into one corner of the drawer.
Leave it there, Olivia. Looking at the thing only hurts you.
Her hand refused to obey the words of warning racing through her head and before she realized it, she was pulling a royal-blue velvet case from the cardboard box and flipping open the lid.
She didn’t know why, tonight of all nights, she felt the urge to look at the ring. Down through the years she’d probably stared a thousand times at the large teardrop diamond. And each time she ended up choking back tears. Tonight was no different and she fiercely blinked her eyes as she slowly traced a finger over the glittering stone.
When she’d ended their engagement, Clancy had insisted that the ring belonged to her and she could do what she wanted with the expensive diamond. She supposed most women would’ve wasted no time in selling the gem or, at the very least, had it and the white-gold setting fashioned into a different piece of jewelry.
During her short marriage to Mark, he’d accidentally discovered the ring in a dresser drawer and demanded that she get rid of it. But Olivia had stubbornly hung on to the ring anyway. And now, whenever she felt particularly lost or lonely, she’d look at the solitaire diamond and remember and wonder what might have been.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, she closed the lid and stuffed the case back in the box and the box back into the drawer. She didn’t have time to dwell on memories or regrets. Clancy would be here soon and she needed to be looking and feeling her best. She wanted him to see that losing him hadn’t ruined her.
* * *
Clancy arrived five minutes before seven and with her nerves on high alert, Olivia opened the door and invited him inside. As soon as his tall frame stepped into the tiny foyer, he swept off his brown cowboy hat and her gaze was instantly drawn to the thick tawny waves covering his head. His hair was one of the most striking things about him and seemed to match his fierce pride and quiet independence. But it was the gentle smile in his eyes that instantly lifted her spirits and brought a smile to her face.
“Hello, Olivia.”
“Good evening, Clancy. Except for fetching my coat and bag, I’m ready. Or would you like to have a drink before we go? I’d be happy to fix you something.”
“Thanks, but I can wait until we get to the restaurant,” he told her.
When he’d walked in, she’d not noticed the small bouquet he’d been holding close down to the side of his leg. Now as he offered them to her, she hardly knew what to think or say. Ever since she’d agreed to see him tonight, she’d been telling herself that the meeting had nothing to do with romance. The whole thing was only a friendly dinner between old acquaintances. Nothing more. So what did the flowers mean?
“I hope you still like daisies,” he said.
“Yes, I do. Thank you.” She accepted the bunch of white flowers, then motioned for him to follow her. “Why don’t you come on into the living room while I put these in a vase and get my things?”
He followed her out of the foyer and into a cozy living area furnished with a couch and two stuffed armchairs. Pausing near the group of furniture, she turned to face him and it was all she could do not to stare. Dressed in a dark green shirt, dark jeans and a brown leather jacket, he was the epitome of a rugged rancher and far more captivating than the college guy she’d fallen in love with.
“Have a seat if you like,” she said in the most casual voice she could muster. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“I’m fine standing,” he assured her. “Take your time.”
Olivia left the room to deal with the flowers and returned moments later wearing a camel-colored coat and clutching a red handbag that matched her high heels. Clancy was still standing where she’d left him, his