Roping Ray Mccullen. Rita Herron
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know that he resents me, and he’s had his troubles, so I have placed stipulations on his inheritance.
But you...my dear, I know you will use your inheritance to further our work at The Family Farm and help the children, and that you will treasure everything Horseshoe Creek has to offer.
Ranching and living off the land has always been in the McCullen blood, and in our hearts.
Know that you are in my heart, as well.
Love always,
Joe
Scarlet folded the letter again and slipped it inside the envelope, then shifted her Wrangler into Drive and wove down the path to the farmhouse Joe called home.
She wiped at a tear as she parked, and for a moment, she sat and admired the sprawling house with the big porch. It looked so homey and inviting that she could easily picture Joe here with his sons, enjoying family time riding on the land, big dinners over a table piled with homemade food and fishing in Horseshoe Creek.
But she had a bad feeling those sons wouldn’t welcome her.
Her stomach twisted at the idea of rejection, and she considered turning around and fleeing. Never contacting the McCullens and claiming what Joe had left her. Disappearing from Pistol Whip and starting over somewhere else.
Barbara and Bobby didn’t care about her. No one did.
Except Joe. He’d seen something in her that had inspired her to be a better person.
He’d made her feel loved, as if she was important, when she’d never felt loved or part of a family before.
She looked down at Joe’s handwriting again and remembered his words, and opened the door of her vehicle.
Joe had loved her and wanted her to have a piece of his land to remember him by.
She wanted it, too.
Like Joe said, she’d had hard knocks. She was a survivor and a fighter. But she also deserved love and a home.
She took a deep breath, strode up the porch steps to the front door, raised her fist and knocked.
* * *
RAY STARED AT the suitcase he’d brought with him when he’d come home, glad he hadn’t unpacked.
The itch to leave Horseshoe Creek burned in his belly. The burden of his father’s secret was just too damn much.
But the lawyer handling their father’s will had been out of town, so they still hadn’t dealt with that. And it would be something to deal with.
Maddox had also shocked him by asking him and Brett to stand up for him at Maddox’s wedding to Rose.
Dammit, seeing his oldest brother happy and in love had done something to him. Not that the brothers had repaired their relationship completely, but two weeks back together on the ranch had mellowed their fighting.
While Maddox and Rose were on their honeymoon, Ray had agreed to oversee the daily running of the ranch. He’d forgotten how much he liked riding and driving cattle.
Brett was busy drawing up plans for the house he and Willow were building for them and their son. They had married in a private ceremony, then moved in to one of the cabins on the property until their dream house was ready. Meanwhile, watching Brett with his little boy, Sam, had stirred up feelings Ray didn’t even know he had.
Like envy.
He shifted, uncomfortable with his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he wanted to get married or have a family. Not after the way his own had gotten screwed up.
He liked being alone. Liked hanging out in bars, meeting women who demanded nothing from him but a good night of sex. Liked owning his own private investigations business. He could take whatever case he wanted, travel to another state without answering to anyone and come home when he damn well pleased.
It’ll all be over soon, he reminded himself. Maddox and Rose would be back in a couple of days.
And so would Darren Bush, the lawyer handling the will.
Of course, if his father had made provisions for that woman in his will as he’d implied in his private conversation with Ray, the storm would hit.
Maddox and Brett would both be pissed as hell.
Maybe they could pay off the woman and she’d be out of their lives forever.
Then Ray could go back to his own life. Sink himself into a case and forget about family and being the outcast.
The front doorbell dinged, and Ray waited for Mama Mary, the family housekeeper and the woman who’d raised him and his brothers after their mother died, to answer it. But it dinged again, and he remembered she’d made a trip into town for groceries, so he jogged down the stairs.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a woman standing on the porch. Instinctively heat stirred in his belly. He didn’t know they made women like her in Pistol Whip.
She reminded him so much of those porcelain dolls his mother liked to collect that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
She was petite with long, wavy blond hair, huge oval-shaped baby blue eyes and milky white skin. A faint sprinkle of freckles dotted her dainty nose, making her look young and sweet. But that body told a different story. Her curves had been designed for a man’s hands.
The wind kicked up, swirling her hair around her heart-shaped face, and she shivered and hunched inside her coat.
“Mr. McCullen?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m one of them. Who are you looking for? Maddox? He lives here.”
She shrugged. “Actually I’d like to talk to Ray.”
Her whisper-soft voice sent his heart into fast motion. “That’s me.” Did she need a PI?
She shivered again, then glanced in the entryway. “May I come in?”
He realized she was cold and that he’d been staring, and he stepped aside and waved her in. Good grief. Women didn’t normally cause him to stutter or act like a fool.
But the combination of her beauty and vulnerable expression mesmerized him.
A wary look crossed her face, but she squared her small shoulders and followed him inside to the den. A fire roared in the ancient brick fireplace, the rustic furnishings the same as they had been when Ray lived here years ago.
The manners Mama Mary had instilled in him surfaced. “Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be nice.” She clutched a patchwork homemade shoulder bag to her and sank onto the leather sofa in front of the fire.
He walked over to the sideboard in the adjoining dining area where Mama Mary always kept a carafe of hot coffee, then poured two cups.
“Cream or sugar?” he asked.
“Black,” she said, surprising him. Half the women he met wanted that froufrou fancy flavored coffee and creamer.
He handed her the cup and noticed her hand trembling. She wasn’t simply cold. Something was wrong.
“Now, you wanna tell me what this is about? Did my receptionist at McCullen Investigations tell you where I was?”
Again, she looked confused. “No, I didn’t realize you were a PI.”
Ray claimed the wing chair facing her and sipped his coffee. So, she wasn’t here for a case. “I don’t understand. If you don’t need my services, then what?”
She fidgeted. “I don’t know how to tell you this, except just to be up front.”
That sounded serious.
“My name is Scarlet Lovett. I knew your father, Ray. In fact, I knew him pretty well.”
Anger instantly shot through Ray. He’d