The Texan's Forbidden Fiancée. Sara Orwig

is what caused the feud in the first place. Your great-great-great-grandfather and my great-great-great-grandfather came out here after the Civil War. What I’ve always heard is they found gold in a deserted house in Tennessee during the war. Later, my relative stole away your relative’s fiancée right before the wedding and that’s when the feud started. Then they fought over the gold and the woman they both loved, but a Milan killed a Calhoun, so the Calhouns rode in at night a week later and burned down a house, killed a Milan and carried off the woman in question, adding to the anger between the two families. The fight has continued until present day. I guess we have a truce of sorts now.”

      “That matches what I’ve always heard about the beginning of the feud,” he said. “That and when they fought, there were several Milans and several Calhoun brothers, plus an uncle.”

      She shifted, recrossed her legs, distracting him totally. She sat quietly, so he remained quiet, letting her think about what he had said. She turned to the window and his gaze traveled slowly over her. She was twisted slightly in her seat, the neckline of the blue dress gaping a fraction, revealing the full rise of her breasts, her skin pale and creamy. The temperature in the plane jumped and he wiped his brow as images of long ago tormented him. Her waist was as tiny as ever. How well he could remember the feel of her in his hands. He had to stop thinking about the past, had to avoid erotic memories that set his heart racing.

      Jake remembered her dad and that last night before he was going to elope with her, and the tantalizing memories vanished, replaced by anger, dulled by the passage of years, but still there.

      She turned back while he was still looking at her neckline. She shifted slightly. “Jake, I have to think about this. We’ll be in Dallas before long, so we might as well go to dinner. I’ll consider your request and by this time tomorrow, I’ll give you an answer.”

      “That’s great, Madison,” he said, feeling a stab of satisfaction. He was certain she wanted to discuss his proposal with her brothers. He hoped not her father.

      Their pilot announced they were approaching Dallas and as they lost altitude, the sun was low on the horizon. By the time they were in the limo on the way to the restaurant, darkness had set in.

      In a short time they were seated in a darkened corner table in a small private room. Lights were low, music from the piano player in another room was muted.

      “So you got a private room for us. I didn’t know there was any such thing for just two people. I’m impressed.”

      “That’s one reason I like this place. There are only three of these rooms.” He paused when their waiter arrived to take drink orders.

      “Little chance of interruptions here by people who know either of us,” she said as soon as they were alone again.

      “That’s right. You can barely see your hand before your face, much less who else is in the restaurant. Do you still like fried chicken better than anything else?” he asked, looking at a menu. He glanced up at her.

      “No, like so many other things, my tastes have changed. I see lobster on the menu—that’s what I’ll have.”

      “Excellent choice. I’ll have the steak,” he said, watching her while she had her head bent slightly over her menu. The candle flickering in the center of the table highlighted her shiny brown hair and rosy cheeks. Again, he wished she had worn her hair down the way he liked it best. He should forget what he liked best about her and leave anything personal a closed subject.

      In minutes the waiter returned. He uncorked a bottle of white wine, gave it to Jake to taste and then poured two glasses after Jake’s approval.

      As soon as they were alone, Jake raised his glass. “Here’s to finding the treasure.”

      With a faint smile, she touched his glass with hers and heard the faint clink of crystal before she sipped. “That’s a safe, innocuous toast,” she said.

      He smiled in turn. “I thought so.”

      “I’m still thinking about your request.”

      “If I’m successful, you’ll get your treasure, I will find a deed and get the bones of my ancestors for a proper burial. We both win.”

      She tilted her head to study him, sipping her wine while she sat staring. “Why do I feel there is more to your request than you’re telling me? I find it a little difficult to trust you. You better not have manufactured this map yourself.”

      He held on to his temper. “My dad took the map to someone in Chicago who could tell him the approximate age. It dates back to the mid-nineteenth century. That’s good enough for me. I’ll give you a copy of the letter and you can contact the people in Chicago yourself.”

      “I’d like to see the original map. Will it disintegrate if it is handled?”

      “Not if it’s handled carefully and you don’t intend to pass it all around. But you don’t get it until we have a deal.”

      “You don’t trust me,” she said, bitterness filling her voice and anger flashing in her eyes, for an instant igniting his own fury, which he banked immediately.

      “Should I?” he asked, trying to curb his feelings and get back to amicable dealings with her.

      “Of course. You did at one time,” she reminded him sharply. Looking away, she took deep breaths. Spots of red were high on her cheeks. She sipped her wine and gradually her breathing went back to normal before she faced him again.

      He’d give her time to think it all over; he just hoped the flare of animosity hadn’t killed the deal. Again, he had a flash of guilt for what he had kept from her. But then he thought about her father and stopped worrying about the secret he harbored.

      * * *

      Madison ate in silence while she mulled over his proposition, studying it from every angle because she didn’t trust him. She suspected he wanted badly to drill on her land and she wondered how much of wanting his ancestors’ remains was because he wanted to lease part of her ranch. Why hadn’t this come up years earlier or with some other Calhoun? And a deed and map? She had never heard of either one. Were they both hoaxes so he could get on her ranch? She wondered what was behind Jake’s request. She couldn’t keep from feeling that it was something to do with wanting to drill on their property.

      What did she have to lose? That’s what she couldn’t figure. So he saw her land up close—she was certain he’d seen aerial photos because they were in the county records and on the internet. If he found the treasure, he had said she could have it. He simply wanted his relatives’ remains and the deed if there was one. While part of any ranch around here, including the McCracken place, would be a real asset, he would have to fight McCracken to get it.

      She couldn’t believe a deed and his ancestors’ remains could be all there was to his request.

      She glanced at him to find him watching her. His thickly lashed midnight eyes were seductive, mesmerizing. And guileless. He looked honest, trustworthy, open—all good qualities, yet she couldn’t believe the proposition was simply what he was telling her and nothing more.

      Caught in his steady gaze, she forgot the legend, the treasure and the proposition. Instead she remembered Jake’s eyes filled with passion, a silent emphasis to what he did with his hands and his body. She had loved him deeply.

      Instantly she broke off that train of thought and tried to think about her schedule tomorrow, his proposition, anything to escape memories that twisted a knife in her heart.

      No matter how she turned his request in her mind, she couldn’t think how there could be an underlying motive and anything else for him to gain without her knowledge if she said okay to him.

      “If I say okay to your proposal,” she asked him, “what are you going to do? Go out there with your shovel and start digging around?”

      “Of course not,” he replied, smiling, his smile giving her heart a squeeze. He was so incredibly handsome and appealing and a smile made him