“The wrinkle between your brows says otherwise.” Hank leaned over to kiss her temple. “All you have to do is trust me and give me a little more time, and I promise you, everything will be all right.”
HANK STAYED TO TAKE CARE of Duchess and the puppies, then headed off to feed his herd and “do what he needed to do” to be able to make her a solid offer on the ranch.
Which meant, Ally thought, as she headed to her father’s den to begin the task of going through his many papers, Hank would likely be spending time with Lulu Sanderson.
Ally knew she shouldn’t be jealous.
Hank was an honorable man, and he had shown her how he felt about her, the night before.
She had to do what he had asked of her, and trust in his power to achieve his goals.
She reassured herself that, unlike her parents, Hank knew what he was doing when it came to the business side of ranching. Certainly he had the connections through his family to get any expertise, advice and probably even financing that he needed.
Yet as Ally plowed through her father’s notes about one crazy, ill-formed plan after another to make Mesquite Ridge profitable, her mood went downhill fast.
She was close to putting her head down in despair when Hank strode into the den, a fistful of mistletoe in his hand, a grin as big as Texas on his handsome face. “You look… happy,” Ally murmured. Really happy.
He set the mistletoe down and sat on the edge of the desk facing her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “And you look like you just lost your prize cow.”
Ally flushed. “I don’t have a prize cow.”
“Exactly.” He swiveled slightly, so the side of his denimclad leg pressed against hers. “But you could, if you hang with me long enough.” He paused to survey her from head to toe, before returning his gaze ever so deliberately to her face. “Seriously…” his voice dropped to a compassionate murmur “…what’s going on?”
Ally rocked back in the ancient wooden swivel chair and sighed. “I was going through my dad’s papers, trying to figure out if there was anything I should save.”
Hank’s brows knit together. “And…?”
“See for yourself.” Feeling like she could use an impartial opinion, Ally handed over a folder. “These are his plans to put Mesquite Ridge on the map. First there was the dude ranch idea. He spent several years on that, when I was in elementary school, but learning how much it would cost to get an operation like that up and running eventually put an end to that notion.”
She handed over another folder. “Then there was his grand idea to open up a rock quarry on one end of the property and harvest limestone for builders.”
Hank frowned. “I imagine hauling the rock to the cities made the cost of that prohibitive.”
Ally sighed. “Exactly.” She picked up another box of meticulously kept folders. “For the next few years after that he tried to find a way to buy or build a giant telescope, and put a pay-per-view planetarium on the property for tourists or star lovers passing through.”
“Hmm.” Hank glanced through the pages and pages of papers. “That’s actually kind of interesting.”
“If completely impractical,” Ally added impatiently. “Next up was the idea to build a wind farm and somehow connect it up to an electrical power plant.”
Hank raised his hand in the age-old gesture of peace. “He was just ahead of his time there. That’s the wave of future.”
That, Ally knew. She wet her lips. “The point is…in all of this, you know what you don’t see?”
Hank shrugged. “What?”
Ally drummed her hand on the scarred wooden desktop. “Books on cattle or grass management. Data on the latest breeding practices. Or anything related to what he was supposed to be doing all along, which was building a cattle operation.”
Hank cocked his head. “He had a herd.”
“A small one that never amounted to much. You can see when you drive around the property how he let the land go to seed. There’s mesquite and cedar everywhere. And everyone knows you can never get rid of mesquite. Cut it down, and it comes right back up.”
“Hey. That’s not such a bad thing.” Hank set her father’s folders in one neat pile, on the far side of the desk. “All of that untamed brush has not only kept the topsoil intact, it’s added to the nutrient value.”
Ally scowled. “You’re just like him. You look at the land and you see value.”
Hank grinned. Clasping her hands in his, he stood and drew her to her feet. “I sure do. And you know what else I see?” He winked playfully, refusing to allow her glum mood to spread to him. “A promise I need to keep.”
The devilry in his blue eyes was almost as exciting as his lovemaking had been. “And what ‘promise’ would that be?” Ally found herself asking.
Hank picked up the half-dozen sprigs of mistletoe he had brought into the house, and clutched them in his fist. “Finding the perfect places to hang these.”
“YOU’RE SURE WE NEED six sprigs of mistletoe?” Ally asked as she and Hank set off to find the perfect spots to hang the holiday greenery.
Hank followed, admiring the view. There was no question Ally looked good in her chic city clothing, but she really filled out a pair of jeans and a sweater, too. “What number would you have us use?” He paused to secure one just inside his bedroom door.
Ally’s heavenward glance told him what she thought about the subtlety of that. “One.”
“But then-” Hank continued on down the hall, stopping at her bedroom door. He stepped inside the sanctuary that had been hers for the first eighteen years of her life, and tacked one there, too. “-You wouldn’t have one here.”
Merriment sparkled in her green eyes. “What makes you think I want mistletoe in my bedroom?”
Her teasing brought a smile to his face, too. She’d been so serious and bereft when she’d arrived at Mesquite Ridge the week before. It was good to see her loosening up and letting go of the grief and rigidity that had ruled her life prior to this holiday season. He winked again. “You never know when you might get the impulse to kiss someone. And need an excuse.”
Ally sauntered past him, leaving a trail of orange blossom perfume. “If I want to kiss someone, I don’t need an excuse.”
“Ah,” he said, thinking of the time when he would make love to her again, and get her to commit to more than just a momentary diversion or holiday fling. “Good to know.”
Electricity shimmered between them. Ignoring his instincts, which were to make love to her then and there, Hank continued on down the hall. Determined to give her the emotional space she seemed to need, and show her they could have a good time simply hanging out together, he stopped midway down the staircase and put one there, too.
“Now that’s an interesting place,” Ally murmured.
“Isn’t it?” Hank fantasized about having her beneath him, her arms and legs locked around his waist, and him so deep inside her he didn’t know where he ended and she began. He continued to the front door and placed one just above it, in the foyer. One of these days, they’d make love without the sale of the ranch, and what that might or might not mean, between them… One day soon, he’d be able to tell her how he really felt…
Oblivious to the passionate, possessive nature of his thoughts, Ally tilted her head. She studied the decoration over the portal, decreeing whimsically, “Not as original, cowboy.”
Loving the way the unexpected endearment sounded rolling off her lips, Hank pressed the remaining greenery in her hand, relishing the soft, silky feel of her palm. “There’s two left. Knock yourself out.”
“Hmm.” Accepting his humorous challenge, Ally sauntered off.
She paused next to the unadorned but fragrant Scotch pine and looked around. Then, grinning, she hurried across the room and stopped in the doorway between the living room and the hall that led to the kitchen and mudroom. “How about right here?”