The Rancher's Heir. Sara Orwig

her breathing was fast—why couldn’t she get over him? She didn’t want a future out on a ranch with a strong alpha male whose life choices were mostly the opposite of hers.

      Annoyed by her reactions to seeing him, she took a deep breath.

      Her door chimes made her jump and she realized how tense she was. She took another deep breath, glanced at herself in the mirror and shook her long, straight brown hair away from her face. Her gaze skimmed over her pale blue cotton blouse, matching slacks and high-heeled sandals. Then she hurried to the door, swinging it open and feeling her heart beat faster as she looked up into Noah’s vivid blue eyes. In that instant, two years’ worth of time vanished. In some ways it could have been yesterday when she’d last seen him. In other ways, change was evident. He looked older, taller, more broad-shouldered and even more incredibly handsome. His thick black hair was a mass of unruly curls above the most vivid blue eyes she had ever seen.

      Looking like the rancher he was, Noah was in civilian clothes: fresh, dark jeans, a navy long-sleeved shirt and black boots. A short black beard was a new addition. He looked like a strong, handsome Texas cowboy, not a billionaire rancher and former officer of an elite military outfit. She couldn’t speak and she wanted to walk into his arms and kiss him. She had thought she was getting over him, but the instant she looked into his eyes, such intense longing filled her that it hurt. For a moment they stared at each other and she realized he was as silent as she.

      “Come in, Noah,” she said quietly, her voice a whisper. Her pulse raced and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his. She couldn’t move. Her heart pounded and she made an effort to step back so he could enter. When he did, she caught the scent of his aftershave. As he stepped in front of her, he paused to look down at her. She couldn’t breathe while she wondered if he could hear her heart pound. He turned and walked on. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door and walked ahead of him into the living room.

      “Where’s your baby?” he asked, following her. “I expected you to be holding him.”

      “Actually, Noah, my mom came by and took Ethan with her. One of her friends is here from out of town and she wanted to show him off.”

      She entered her living room and turned to face him. He had a slight scowl and his gaze had grown cold.

      “Camilla, I told you that I have Thane’s gift to you and one to your son. What’s his name—Ethan?”

      “Yes—he’s named for my uncle. I’m sorry,” she answered, raising her chin, trying to get some force into her voice so she didn’t sound guilty or intimidated. “I know you told me that you wanted to see Ethan, but this was special to Mom, and her friend will only be in town today. Besides, he’s a baby,” Camilla stated firmly and had a sinking feeling when his expression did not soften. “Ethan is fifteen months old. He won’t know or care if you put that present in his little hands or not. That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even know how to open a present. He’ll probably chew on it. I’ll get it to him and put it into his hands.” Changing her tone, she waved her hand. “Have a seat, Noah, and relax,” she said, motioning toward an armchair.

      Noah shook his head. “Thanks, Camilla, but I have other places to go.”

      Why did his words hurt? He was stiff, cold and angry. She didn’t want to react to him, to ache to be in his arms and to remember far too vividly his kisses.

      “Do I get my present?” she asked.

      He crossed the room and she couldn’t resist letting her gaze flick over him. Her pulse raced as she noted differences. He stopped a couple of feet in front of her. Her gaze lowered to his mouth and she couldn’t get her breath. She realized how she stared and her gaze flew up to meet his, and for a few seconds, she saw scalding desire, a hungry look that made her weak in the knees. She was the one who broke up with him, so why was she about to go up in flames just facing him now?

      She fought to regain her composure, or at least feign it. Searching for something to say, she came up with a lame comment. “I think you’re taller, Noah.”

      “I am,” he answered. “I got measured enough in the Army to know I’m taller than when I went in. Taller, heavier, stronger and hopefully tougher. We’ll see the next time I participate in a rodeo.” He reached out, holding a package. “Here’s your present from Thane, Camilla. He had very specific instructions for me.”

      Momentarily lost in thoughts about her brother, she accepted the small package and ran her hand over the ripped and wrinkled brown paper, tied tightly with twine. She thought about Thane, dying in Afghanistan, so far from home and family, having a present for her and one for Ethan. “Thank you. I’m glad you and Mike and Jake were with him. He died doing what he wanted,” she said and stopped talking for a moment because tears threatened. “When I kissed him goodbye, I wondered if I would ever see him again,” she whispered and turned her back to wipe her eyes. She tried to get her emotions under control and shifted her thoughts to Noah and the present, turning back to face him.

      “Sorry, Noah. Thane was really special.”

      “Yes, he was. He was special to all of us under his command.”

      She took a deep breath. “You did what he wanted. I’ll tell Ethan, when he’s old enough to understand that Thane very specifically wanted you to bring his present home and he wanted you to place it in Ethan’s hands yourself.”

      “And that’s what I intend to do. I’ll have to come back,” he said, and she could hear the reluctance in his voice.

      A chill slithered down her spine because she knew Noah would do whatever he said he would. She knew far too well how tough and unyielding he could be when he thought he was right.

      “Noah, you’re busy. I’m busy. Ethan is a baby and Thane wasn’t thinking about how little Ethan is.”

      “Camilla,” Noah said in such a cold voice that she stopped talking instantly. “Thane knew exactly what he was doing and saying. Those were the words of a dying man giving his last wishes. I promise you, your brother’s thoughts were clear, and with great effort and some of his last breaths, he made me promise to put that gift into your baby’s hands. He specifically said to not give it to you.”

      She felt heat rise in her face. She loved her brother, but he had always meddled in her life. This was why she wouldn’t tie her life to a man who was an alpha male through and through. Her controlling brother had even managed to wring promises from his men that would bring about the results Thane wanted. He was just as bad as her father.

      Her father had never been deeply interested in his kids. Early on, Thane took over being a second dad to her and sometimes he’d interfered in her life if he’d thought it was best.

      She smiled sweetly. “All right, Noah. You can give the present to Ethan personally. I’ll call you. It won’t be this week because we have commitments, but next week should work.”

      Noah nodded. “If possible, as soon as you can. I want to get this done. I gave your brother my word that I would.”

      “Sure. You want to get back to your ranch, don’t you?”

      “You can’t imagine how much I want to. It’s been two years since I even saw it, back when I was on that furlough. You should have come out there with me at least once, Camilla. It’s beautiful.”

      She shivered. “Noah, I’ve told you—we used to go see my grandparents on their ranch and it was never beautiful. It was scary and had snakes. I was bitten once, but it wasn’t a poisonous one. My grandfather spent his time and money gambling and that ranch was insignificant to him. So were his grandkids. I hated it, and after my grandmother died, my grandfather let everything go. The house was dark and depressing. I told you—that’s where my little brother, Winston, drowned. Our grandfather let us play on a frozen pond and the ice cracked. We all went in and that icy water was terrifying and I had nightmares about it for a couple of years. Thane pulled Winston out. He was only four. He got pneumonia and died. I’ve told you before.”

      “Yeah, I’ve heard Thane talk about it.