Fortune's Secret Husband. Karen Rose Smith

didn’t speak until they were well out of Austin. He noticed her checking the rearview mirror a few times. He had checked it, too. From what he could tell, no one had followed them. She seemed to relax the farther from Austin they drove.

      Finally she said honestly, “I was surprised you called...about your ranch.”

      She was obviously wondering why he’d asked her to come along. He wasn’t entirely sure. “Maybe I just want a second opinion on the place.”

      “No one else has seen it?”

      “No one else.”

      “How many horses do you plan to run on this property?”

      “I’m bringing five over from the Bar P. I adopted two out last month, but I’d like to triple or quadruple that. A lot has to happen first, though. Some horses have to be quarantined. Others need their own pastures. There are no wild mustangs, per se, in Texas. That’s the way most people think about horse rescue. But in stiff economic times, people are abandoning horses on private and public lands. As far as the wild mustangs go, the Bureau of Land Management has adoption events in Texas. I purchased a few, gentled them, and then sold them.”

      “It’s a wonderful idea. What made you start doing it?”

      “Dad added property to the Bar P when I was a teenager. It was a rundown ranch. The owner was selling. Two of his horses were malnourished and hadn’t been cared for. I convinced Dad to let me take them on that summer. I turned them around. One of them became Mom’s favorite to ride. After Dad’s stroke, I guess I needed an outlet for living there again, something else to keep me occupied while I was there. So I began rescuing horses.”

      “I looked you up online yesterday.”

      He cut her a glance. “Oh, you did.”

      “There’s an article about you in one of the Texas magazines about being the most eligible bachelor in Austin.”

      He kept silent to see where she was going with this.

      “It’s just—with your money, looks and reputation, you could be leading the good life.”

      “Fast cars, bars, clubbing every night?”

      “Something like that.”

      “That might have been me in my teens and early twenties, but it isn’t now. Scotland changed me, Lucie. Didn’t it change you?”

      “Before Scotland, I was never impulsive or reckless the way you were. I think maybe I let you sweep me away to prove that I could be. The thing was, after the humiliation the whole episode caused my parents, being sent home from the trip in disgrace, I was never that way again.”

      Had she reverted to type, or had she just curbed her passionate tendencies? Maybe that was something he wanted to explore.

      Lucie’s face wore an interested expression as he veered onto the gravel lane to the ranch. Suddenly the thought that this was a bad idea assaulted him. The ranch was run-down. The main barn needed to be refurbished. The second barn with its apartment on the second floor needed a makeover, too. This property was certainly nothing like the Bar P or the Chesterfield Estate in England. He’d seen video clips of her home. What was she going to think?

      “I have to repair the fence, of course.” He nodded to the worn stakes and supports along the road.

      “Lots of caretaking involved,” Lucie commented as if she knew.

      “It will be a lot of work at the outlay, but then upkeep won’t be so bad. The land alone is worth the price. With the rest, I’ll add to its value.”

      As the truck bumped along, the barns and then the house came into view. They could see the forest beyond now and Lucie was looking in that direction.

      As they parked at the house, they both climbed out.

      “I’m going to have the house sided, of course,” Chase said. “I’m thinking tan with brown shutters.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Pale yellow siding with black shutters would be more inviting.”

      He grinned. “I knew there was a reason I brought you along.”

      They went up the three porch steps to the house. The porch was a large one, rounding three sides.

      “It’s locked, of course,” Chase explained. “But you can peek inside. It’s empty, so you won’t see much. The plank flooring is good, if a little worn. In time, I’ll redo the kitchen.”

      Lucie peered in the window, devoid of shades or curtains. “The living room looks nice-sized,” she noticed.

      “There are four bedrooms upstairs. One’s a little small. The whole place has that original ranch house feel.”

      She stepped back from the door and glanced toward the barn.

      “Do you want to explore a little? The barns aren’t locked.”

      “Sure. Old barns can be like treasure chests. They take you back into another era.”

      “Exactly.”

      They were on the same page with that. The early 1900s feel of the barns and the house was the reason he liked them so much. If he had his way, he’d restore all of them as much as he could and keep the original wood and architecture.

      He went ahead of her and opened the heavy, creaking barn door. She came up beside him and when she passed him, the light perfume she wore teased him. Once inside, however, the smell of hay, old wood and rusting tools was evident. There was a loft with an old, rickety ladder propped against it.

      “I wouldn’t use that ladder to look around up there,” she warned with a smile.

      “I brought my own in to have a look around. But when I own the place, I’d like to replicate the original.”

      Basically the barn was one open space.

      “You’ll need stalls, right?” she asked.

      “Oh, yes. Lean-tos and a fenced corral. I’m looking into enlarging the second barn.”

      “Wow. You have your work cut out for you.”

      “I do and I can’t wait to start. I want to do some of the work myself, especially in the house.”

      They were standing close to each other near a support beam. He had one hand on the support and his other he dropped by his side. She was standing right in front of him, close enough to touch. Dim light shone in the foggy windows. Last light from a long day shadowed the barn. The hushed atmosphere inside made him aware of his breath as well as hers.

      He tipped up the bill of her cap. “This really doesn’t disguise you very much. The wig does a better job.”

      “It hides my hair, though, and part of my face. It works, Chase.”

      Her life seemed to be all about what worked, what fit in, what didn’t stir the pot. What if he stirred the pot?

      As he swept the hat from her head, her hair fell down around her shoulders. He couldn’t help touching it. He couldn’t help sliding his hand under her hair, along her neck. He couldn’t help bending his head.

      A beep made them both start. It was as if someone had walked into the barn and caught them there.

      Lucie stepped away from him and said, “My phone. I’d better check to see who it is.”

      Slipping it from her pocket, she said, “It’s Amelia. I have to take this. She and I never ignore each other’s calls.”

      Chase didn’t have a brother or sister, but he understood that if he did, he wouldn’t ignore their calls either. He turned away and walked to the other side of the barn to give Lucie some privacy. The idea of kissing her had revved him up. Better if she didn’t understand just how much.