Count On A Cowboy. Patricia Thayer
Читать онлайн книгу.
into town and returning another day. Too late. She straightened her shoulders. “Then could you tell me where I can find Rory Quinn?”
He folded his large arms over his wide chest, and he spread his stance as if to look intimidating. It was working.
“And who are you?”
She refused to back away, not after it had taken her so long to get here. “Brooke Harper.” She arched an eyebrow. “Are you related to the Quinns?”
He shook his head. “I’m Trent Landry, a family friend and business partner. And again, why do you want to see Rory?”
She glanced away from the man’s dark gaze. She’d dealt with a lot of businessmen in her job, but this guy was good at intimidation. Either he was military or law enforcement. But she could handle it. “I believe that is between Mr. Quinn and myself.”
“Well, you can believe whatever you want, but both Rory and Laurel Quinn will be away for a few days. So why don’t you return then?” He tried to read her eyes. “Or you can tell me what this is about and when I talk with Rory, I can relay your message.”
Brooke didn’t have a lot of time or choices. So she’d either wait until the Quinns returned home, or she’d have to take more time off work. But how much did she want to tell this man? Definitely nothing about her connection to Rory Quinn.
“Laurel Quinn is my...half sister.”
* * *
HOW CAN LAUREL have a sister?
“Is that so?”
Trent watched Brooke Harper’s hands shake, but she managed to extract papers from her oversize purse and give them to him.
His gaze didn’t waver from those intriguing green eyes until he opened the folded sheets, then finally glanced over a birth certificate, stating that Coralee Harper gave birth to a female child on the twelfth day of December, 1988.
Trent looked at the other paper, a custody agreement, giving Rory Quinn full custody of his daughter Laurel Kathryn Harper. These weren’t the originals, but he couldn’t discount them, either. If true, that meant Diane Quinn wasn’t Laurel’s biological mother?
Damn, this was above his pay grade.
He studied the pretty blonde, looking for a resemblance. Her large eyes were deep green in color, her fair skin was flawless and her full mouth... He halted the survey, realizing he needed to stop getting distracted by her. Brooke Harper’s news could destroy the Quinn family.
He needed to get ahold of Rory. “Excuse me. I need to make a call.” He walked out of earshot and punched in the familiar number. He glanced at the white tent that had been constructed in the predawn hours to house the guests for the Quinn-Aldrich wedding reception.
Then came sunrise and there was no sign of the groom. When Laurel couldn’t get ahold of Jack by phone, Trent had gone out to the general contractor’s temporary residence, the small trailer at the building site. He’d found it completely empty. Obviously, Jack had cleared out sometime during the night.
Now, four hours before the ceremony the groom had disappeared; also all their money for the construction of the cabins was gone with him. If that wasn’t enough, this woman had shown up and claimed to be Laurel’s sister.
Rory’s phone rang and rang, and finally went to voice mail. “Please leave a message...”
“Rory, this is Trent.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I need you to call me, right away. Something has come up here, and no, it’s nothing to do with finding Aldrich.”
Just as Trent disconnected the call, he turned to see a truck, painted with the sign All Occasions Catering on its side, pull into the drive. Great, something else he had to deal with. And the troubles didn’t stop, he thought, remembering the fifty-plus wedding guests arriving soon.
Around the barn appeared the ranch truck, and four ranch hands piled out. He needed help. Trent punched the ranch foreman’s phone number.
“Hey, Trent what’s up?” Chet answered.
“Hi, Chet. Has Rory called you today?”
“No, he hasn’t. Why?”
“There’s been a change of plans. Wedding’s been called off.”
“What?”
Trent didn’t want to go into details now. “Yeah, and the family has gone out of town. Rory asked me to handle things here. So could you send Ollie and Larry out to the gate and head off the guests? Have them explain that the wedding has been called off, and make sure they thank everyone for coming. But no more info.”
“That won’t be difficult since I don’t know any more,” Chet said, digging for more news.
“I’ll fill you in later,” Trent promised.
That seemed to satisfy him. “Okay, as soon as they get cleaned up, I’ll send them down.”
“Thank you, I know Rory appreciates the help.”
“He’s a good man,” Chet added. “Do you need anything else?”
“Yeah, a few men to help take the chairs and tables back to the rental place?”
“Sure. Let me get the flatbed and we’ll be up in a few.”
“Thanks, Chet.”
Trent hung up and quickly went to handle his next problem, the caterer. Even bigger trouble was when he found Miss Harper talking to the man in the white uniform. He headed over to find out what she was saying to him.
Trent knew the catering owner, Bill Cummings, from town. “Hey, Bill.” Trent shook the older man’s hand.
“Hi, Trent.” Bill grinned. “I hear from lovely Miss Harper here that there’s been a change of plans.”
Just what had she told him? He sent her a glaring look, and got a sweet smile in return. Feeling a sudden jolt of awareness, he turned back to Bill. “Yes, the wedding has been called off.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bill frowned. “But there’s no refunds, I told that to Rory when he paid the deposit.”
“I’m sure they understood that when they hired you.” He silently cursed Aldrich again for causing all this trouble. Not that he cared, but this news would be all over town once Bill’s wife, Bess, learned of the cancellation. Nothing he could do about that.
Bill looked sympathetic about the situation. “So what do you want me to do with all this food?” He motioned to the truck.
“Donate it.” Brooke Harper stepped forward.
“I worked for a large hotel and when we have leftover food from our events, we take it to a shelter or soup kitchen.”
“Do I take it all? And what about the cake? It’s three tiers with the bride and groom...”
“Donate everything.” Trent didn’t have time or energy to think of a place. “Bill, you decide where it goes.”
He glanced toward the barn to see Larry and Ollie getting into the truck and heading out to the gate to greet the guests and send them home.
Bill snapped his fingers. “St. Theresa’s Catholic Church has a shelter.” He looked at Trent as he pulled out his phone. “Do you think that will be all right with Rory and Diane? I mean, I know they go to the Methodist Church on Grant Street.”
“I think when it’s a charitable act, it doesn’t matter,” Trent told him. “And since Rory instructed me to handle things, I vote for St. Theresa’s. I really appreciate you doing this for the family.”
With a nod, Bill walked back to the truck, holding the phone against his ear.
Trent took Miss Harper by the arm and guided her aside. “I wasn’t able to get ahold of