Expecting A Lone Star Heir. Sara Orwig
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here a couple of weeks, could we go out to dinner maybe a few times where people would see us?” She took a deep breath. “You don’t have to agree, but I think if you went out with me where we would be seen, Clint and a couple of the other men who have called on me would back off. I think Clint would stop trying to get me to move and sell the ranch. We could go to a country club in Dallas—dinner will go on my tab, of course, because, in the first place, at the club that’s automatic.” Her cheeks turned pink as she talked. “You don’t have to go. It is definitely not a job requirement, and if there’s a woman in your life—”
“Relax, Mrs. Warner. I can easily take you to dinner,” he lied, trying to sound positive and knowing that she was right about the men backing off. “There’s no woman to worry about. You pick the time for dinner and you select the place because you know this neck of the woods better than I do,” he said.
They would go to dinner. If it had been anyone besides Thane’s wife, he probably would have politely refused, but he believed the reasons she was giving.
When she looked down at her fingers locked together, his gaze swept over her and his heartbeat sped up. Her long blond hair curled slightly where it fell on her shoulders. Mike knew she had no romantic interest in him, but with the jolt of mutual awareness when their hands had briefly touched, he suspected that any time spent with her he would be driven by two forces: the first—intense attraction; the second—the reminder that she was absolutely off-limits for him. She was Thane’s wife. How many times had he already had to remind himself of that? It was easy to get lost in those big eyes and forget the world and his purpose here.
“If it looks as if we’re dating, I think Clint will stop trying to buy this place. But it’s merely a request and if you say no, I’ll understand,” she repeated.
“As I said, I don’t mind taking you to dinner,” he lied again politely as he smiled at her.
She looked as if a weight had lifted off her shoulders while he felt as if one had just dropped on his.
“It will help, too, if you’ll call me Vivian.”
“I noticed Henry calls you Mrs. Warner.”
“He did that for your benefit and because you’re new. He and his wife both call me Vivian, and Thane told them to call him by his first name. Thane wasn’t much for formalities.”
“I think it should be Mrs. Warner until we have that dinner date. I’ll change to Vivian then.”
She nodded. “Thank you for agreeing to dinner. And remember, it will be the weekend after this one. I have tickets for a charity ball. It’s a dinner dance at a country club in Dallas. You’ll need a tux.”
“I can get one,” he said, smiling.
“Good. Clint belongs to the same club, so there’s a good chance he’ll be there.” She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “It’s uncanny, but he seems to know most places I go and he appears there, too.”
“You haven’t noticed anyone following you around when you’re off the ranch, have you? He could easily hire a PI.”
“No, but I haven’t really paid much attention.” She smiled at him. “Actually, I’m not off the ranch much because I’m busy painting. I have a showing coming up this month.”
“Well, I don’t want you to worry about Clint. I think I can get rid of him.”
“Thank you, Mike. That’s a relief. He’s even had real estate people call me about the ranch, as well as an attorney who represents him. It will be such a relief to have him out of my life.”
“I don’t think that will be difficult to accomplish,” Mike replied, already suspecting his biggest problem might be keeping his distance from her.
“I can introduce you to Slade now if you’d like. He’s expecting us. He’ll talk to you a little and show you around.”
“Thane said he has back trouble. Can he still work and get around?”
“Yes, thank goodness. He isn’t able to do what he used to, but he works. He does more than he should. Thane wrote to him and told him how you know ranching. He’s glad you’re here. We all are.” She started to rise from her chair. “I’ll call him and we’ll go to his office.”
“Mrs. Warner, wait a minute,” Mike said, wondering how the next few minutes would go. “In the last moments I was with your husband, he asked me to give something to you. He had a gift for you. He kept it with his things. Fighting like we were and on the move, we carried very little with us, but he carried your gift with him. It wasn’t gift wrapped. When I brought it home, I thought about having it wrapped. Perhaps it should be, but I thought about all we went through and decided maybe it would mean something special to you to give it to you the way he carried it through fights and tough assignments. I’ve brought it to you like I got it from him,” Mike said, standing. “It seemed more appropriate to me.”
“We weren’t even married a year,” she said, looking at Mike’s hands as he pulled the parcel from his jacket pocket. The package was wrapped in plain wrinkled brown paper that was smudged, slightly torn in a couple of spots. He held it out to her. She glanced up at him and then took it from him with icy fingers.
“Thane had this?”
“Yes, for you. I imagine he got it when we were in one of the European cities. I don’t know when or where. We never talked about it, really, except when he asked me to get it to you.”
She struggled with the string until he reached into his pocket. “Here, let me,” he said, opening a small knife and cutting the twine. Their fingers brushed and again, Mike had that instant sizzle when there should have been nothing. Without thinking, he glanced from the package to her and saw her surprised look again as she gazed up at him. The minute he met her eyes, she hurried to unwrap the wrinkled brown paper.
When she saw the gift, she gasped. A gold chain with a large diamond pendant glittered in the light. It looked like an antique. She closed her hand around the necklace and put her head down. To give her privacy, he walked a few feet away to a window to gaze outside without seeing anything before him. Instead, he remembered the flashes of shells and flames, the smell of blood and fire and gunpowder. He remembered Thane and hurt again over the loss of his friend.
“There’s a note,” she said. He didn’t turn to look. He could hear her open paper and then she was quiet. And he knew she was crying because she loved her husband. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. We all miss him, including Noah and Jake, our two other friends. Thane bought that pendant for you because he loved you. He was a good man and people cry over good men.”
Mike moved away, returning to his seat and looking at his phone, trying to give her a moment until she was ready to talk again.
“I always thought he would come home to me. I was sure he’d get through it,” she said so softly, he could barely hear her. “I was wrong.”
Mike stood. “I’ll get you a drink of water,” he said, leaving so she could be alone with her grief for a few minutes. He hadn’t been in the hall two seconds before Henry emerged from one of the rooms.
“Can I help you, Mr. Moretti?”
“It’s Mike, Henry. She told me you’re a bodyguard. You’re military, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Marines.”
“I’m giving her a moment. I told her I’d get her a drink of water. Thane had a gift for her and a note, and asked me to give it to her. It... Well, it tore her up.”
“I’ll get the water. Have a seat, Mike.”
Mike smiled and felt he would have a friend in Henry.
In minutes Henry returned with a tray that held two glasses and a pitcher of ice water. Cubes clinked in the pitcher as he approached Mike. “Here’s one for you, sir.”
“Henry,