His Brother's Bride-To-Be. Patricia Kay

      “What is it, Marisol?”

      “For dessert tonight, Miss Caroline? I thought I’d make flan. Is that all right with you?”

      “I don’t care. Whatever you want to make.”

      After the housekeeper turned to go back to the kitchen, Caroline walked to the front window. She angrily swiped at her eyes, then gazed out at the bright June day. She was afraid to think about what would happen if her dad’s marriage plans went through. Would he want Caroline and Tyler to move? What would she do if he did? Just the idea of having to be out on her own again made her feel sick.

      I can’t. I won’t.

      She was still thinking of the possible consequences of her father’s news when she spied his dark red Dodge Ram truck at the top of the rise that led to the main house. Her heartbeat quickened. She was glad they were here early, before Tyler got home from his friend Evan’s house.

      Thinking about her twelve-year-old son and the last thing her father had said to her before they’d hung up yesterday, she clenched her teeth. He thought Tyler and that woman’s brat would be friends, too. Huh. Not if Caroline had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t.

      Taking a deep breath and stiffening her spine, she stalked out to the foyer and yanked open the door.

      Chapter Two

      Jill, nervous but trying to look as if she wasn’t, watched as Elliott, with a big smile on his face, walked over to meet the cool-looking blonde standing in the open doorway. She wore slim-cut jeans, layered tank tops in plum and white, and what looked like four-inch heels. She was very thin, almost brittle-looking. Her grayish-blue eyes held not a hint of warmth as they swept over Jill and Jordan.

      Jill swallowed, and her heartbeat accelerated. She told herself she was a grown woman, that she shouldn’t be intimidated by Elliott’s daughter, that Rome wasn’t built in a day and that, given time, she would win Caroline over.

      “Hello, sweetheart,” Elliott said, giving Caroline a hug.

      She returned his hug, but her attention remained riveted on Jill and Jordan. Elliott reached for Jill’s hand and led her forward. “Caroline, this is Jill…and this handsome guy is Jordan.”

      “Hello, Caroline,” Jill said. She projected the warmest smile she could muster. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out. “Elliott’s told me so much about you.” She immediately wished she could take the last words back; she almost expected Caroline to answer, Well, he told me nothing about you!

      “Hi,” piped Jordan, blue eyes bright with curiosity.

      “Hello,” Caroline said. She didn’t smile in return, and for a moment it looked as if she would ignore Jill’s hand, too, but she finally gave it a brief shake.

      To fill the awkward silence, Jill looked around. “It’s so beautiful here.” The rolling landscape dotted with shrubs and wildflowers, the river a few hundred yards away, the distant hills, the endless blue sky—Jill already itched to capture the scene with paint.

      “Not as beautiful as it used to be,” Elliott said ruefully.

      Jill knew he hated what he called the invasion of the oil derricks, although from here only the myriad buildings that were part of the working life of the ranch were visible. He’d told her the derricks and other equipment associated with the drilling operation were concentrated in the northwest quadrant of his property, which was very large—some thirty-two thousand acres in all.

      “Where are the horses, Elliott?” Jordan said.

      “I’ll take you over to the stables to see them after we get you and your mother settled in,” Elliott said, grinning at him. Putting his arm around Jill, he added, “Now that you’ve met Caroline, I’ll drive you around to the guesthouse, okay?”

      “Okay,” Jill said, doubly grateful, now that she’d met Caroline, that she would have her own private place here.

      Throughout this exchange, Caroline had said nothing. Turning his gaze back to his daughter, Elliott said, “Caroline, tell Marisol we probably won’t want dinner before eight. We ate a late lunch.”

      “Eight?” She seemed about to protest, but finally just shrugged. “Marisol won’t like it.”

      “Marisol will be fine with it,” Elliott said firmly. His tone brooked no further discussion.

      Jill didn’t know where to look. Caroline’s attitude told her more clearly than words that Jill had her work cut out for her if she hoped to win over Elliott’s daughter. In fact, the situation was even worse than Jill had imagined. Caroline wasn’t just wary or reserving her opinion of Jill until she’d had a chance to get to know her. It was obvious she considered Jill an enemy.

      She hates me.

      Jill bit her lip. She knew Elliott would say she was attaching far too much importance to Caroline’s actions today, but she didn’t think so.

      Maybe I should have let Elliott ask her to move. Because unless I can win her over quickly, I’m not sure the two of us can survive here together, even for the summer.

      By now Jill and Elliott and Jordan had piled back into the truck and Elliott drove around to the back of the house where Jill saw another house—this one a small frame cottage sitting about sixty feet away, close to the bank of the river. The cottage was painted pale yellow, with red shutters. It even had a front porch with a swing. It was utterly charming.

      “Oh,” Jill said. “Elliott, it’s so pretty.” She was delighted, and when Elliott unlocked the front door and they walked inside, she was even more delighted.

      They entered a kitchen/living room combination. Branching off from this main room were two bedrooms, a good-size bathroom with both tub and walk-in shower, and a sunporch that faced the river. The entire house was warm and hospitable, filled with solid maple furniture, lots of chintz, hardwood floors, and bright area rugs.

      “This is the main bedroom,” Elliott said, opening the door to an inviting room with a queen-size bed, a rocking chair, a small desk, and a matching walnut dresser and chest of drawers.

      “And this will be Jordan’s room.” Grinning, Elliott opened the other door.

      “Oh, Elliott,” Jill said when she saw the maple bunk beds, the matching chest of drawers and desk, the laptop computer, the TV set, and the bookcases with books.

      “Cool!” Jordan said. He immediately plopped down at the desk and opened the computer. “Is this mine?” he asked excitedly.

      “It certainly is.”

      “Awesome!”

      Jill rolled her eyes. The words cool and awesome seemed to be the only ones in Jordan’s vocabulary right now. “Elliott,” she murmured. “You shouldn’t have.” She tried to quash the guilt she felt over his generosity, and she was only partially successful.

      “Except for the TV and computer, most of this stuff came from the room Stephen used as a boy.”

      The half brother. “Does he live on the ranch, too?”

      “Not anymore. A few months ago he bought a place in town. This used to be his house, you know.”

      “Oh, I didn’t realize…” Then a thought struck her. “He didn’t move because of me, did he?”

      “No, of course not. He doesn’t even know about you yet.” He smiled. “You’ll meet him tomorrow.”

      Another hurdle to face, Jill thought in trepidation. If Elliott’s brother hated her, too, life here at the ranch really would be unbearable for her.

      I’ve got to win them over. I’ve simply got to. Because if I don’t, I won’t have a choice. Marriage to Elliott will be impossible.

      

      Stephen’s