The Colton Bodyguard. Carla Cassidy
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the master suite and stared listlessly outside.
After years of barely knowing her mother, who had spent much of her children’s growing-up years traveling the globe, in recent months Greta had finally begun to develop the kind of relationship she’d always wanted with her.
Abra had thrown herself wholeheartedly into Greta’s wedding plans. Her smiles had come more often and her eyes had sparkled with life. There had been no killer migraines, no need for her to take to her bed for days on end of rest and quiet.
Now she released a weary sigh, her thin frame absent any energy as her fingers idly toyed with the fringe on the bottom of a lavender throw that covered her shoulders. She turned and gazed at Greta. “But you would have made such a beautiful bride.”
As usual, Abra was perfectly groomed, every dark brown hair perfectly combed into a chin-length bob, but her eyes held such sadness it broke Greta’s heart.
She sank down on her knees next to her mother’s chair. “But surely you wouldn’t have wanted me to marry a man who couldn’t bring me happiness,” Greta said softly.
“Of course not,” Abra replied quickly. “I just thought Mark was a much better man than he turned out to be.”
“That makes two of us,” Greta said. “Mother, just because this wedding fell through doesn’t mean I’ll never have a wedding at all, and when the next time comes, I want you by my side and planning every detail with me.”
Abra forced a sad smile. “So much has happened in the last couple of months. The wedding was the one good thing to take my mind off everything else.” She patted Greta’s hand absently. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, dear. I just need a little bit of time.”
Greta rose to her feet. “I’m getting ready to leave for a job. I’ll be in Oklahoma City for the next couple of weeks or so.” She didn’t tell her mother specifically whom she would be working for or where she would be staying, and she was grateful when Abra didn’t ask.
She left her mother’s room and headed to her father’s study. She wondered how much of Abra’s depression was due to the cancellation of the wedding and how much was because she’d recently learned that Greta wasn’t her biological daughter and the baby girl she’d given birth to twenty-six years ago had died after only one day of life.
Greta found her father at his desk in the opulent oversize room. He didn’t hear her approach and for a long moment she stood in the doorway and simply looked at him.
At sixty-six years old, John “Big J” Colton was still like a force of nature. He was the life of any party, with a loud, booming voice and a bigger-than-life presence.
Although his hair was now silver white, his green eyes still sparked with a lust for life. He’d been the rock of the family when his children had been growing up, and Greta knew the anguish he’d suffered each time Abra had gone away for one of her convalescing trips.
He must have sensed Greta’s presence, for he looked up from whatever he’d been reading and his face lit with a smile.
“Greta, my darling girl.” His eyes filled with the affection and love that had got Greta through life despite her mother’s many absences.
Big J had been the one constant in Greta’s life. “Are you working hard?” she asked.
His grin widened and his eyes twinkled. “Hardly working is more like it.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading off to Oklahoma City for a couple of weeks.”
“Work or play?”
“Work. I’ve been hired to train a horse.”
“Good. I think some time away from here is best for you until Ryan and the rest of the police get everything under control.” He eyed her with a touch of worry. “You’ll stay in touch?”
“Of course,” she replied. “You can always reach me on my cell phone. And you’ll keep an eye on Mother?”
Big J’s gaze softened. “Absolutely. She’s a bit sad right now, but I’m sure she’ll rally.”
“I feel guilty about the wedding being called off,” Greta confessed. Of course, the wedding hadn’t been the only recent blow Abra had received, along with the rest of the family.
“Nonsense.” Big J waved his hand dismissively. “The last thing I’d want for you is to be married to a shallow womanizer like Mark Stanton. You know I never really warmed up to him. Never forget that no matter what has happened, you’re a Colton through and through and you deserve the very best.”
Sudden tears misted her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. “Then I’ll just get on the road. I’ll be in touch.” She left the room before the tears did more than blur her vision.
She loaded her Jeep and headed away from the huge mansion on the hill that was home. Abra had designed the house and Big J had given in to her every whim, which had resulted in an 11,000-square-foot home furnished to make a statement...and it screamed, “We have money.”
Greta had always been more at home in the pastures than in the house. She’d been right beside her five brothers as they’d all grown up, climbing trees and fences, scooting through cattle chutes and riding bareback on some of the biggest, fastest horses on the ranch.
The past couple of months of prewedding activities had been miserable for her as she’d donned frilly dresses she wasn’t accustomed to, picked out pink ribbon and lace and flowers for the wedding and visited various caterers, all in an effort to please her mother.
The whole pink-and-white wedding scene hadn’t been her thing, but she’d gone along with it all, being somebody she wasn’t to make Abra and Mark happy.
Although she was sorry for the way things had turned out and that Abra had fallen into one of her depressive states, there was also a sense of freedom that she could once again just be herself.
Before leaving the house, she’d showered and changed into a pair of jeans, a burnt-orange blouse and a brown suede jacket. She had no idea what the dress code was for the restaurant Tyler had mentioned, but she’d packed a couple of less casual things just in case.
As she got closer to Tyler’s, a little bit of nervous energy jumped through her veins. She wasn’t nervous about working with the horse. In fact, she was excited by the challenge. The black filly had called to her, touching something inside her that was impossible to ignore.
It was definitely the man himself who made anxiety bubble up inside her. Despite the fact that she’d showered not so long ago, she imagined she could still smell the scent of his expensive cologne clinging to her skin, still feel the heat of his hands on her naked skin.
It was early dusk when she pulled into his driveway. He opened the front door, as if he’d been standing there staring out and waiting for her all day.
“You made it back,” he said as she got out of her car. “And I have reservations at the restaurant in thirty minutes, so your timing couldn’t be more perfect.”
The force of him, the very energy he exuded, had her half-breathless before she’d even opened her back door to get to her suitcases.
“Here, let me take those.” He carried the two suitcases to the front door, with her hurrying to catch up with him. Once she did, he headed down the hallway until he reached the guest room she’d stayed in the night before. “In here? Or in there?” He gestured toward his room.
“In here,” she said firmly and walked into the guest room. He placed the two suitcases on the floor.
“You can unpack later. We should probably go ahead and head out to the restaurant,” he said.
“Should I change clothes?” she asked, although he was casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt.
“No, you’re fine.” He smiled at her. “I’m just