Название | Dreams of Forever |
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Автор произведения | Brenda Jackson |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Kimani Arabesque |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408995679 |
Casey had been determined to find that same kind of special love for herself, and as a result, had decided the only man she slept with would be her husband. But since finding out the truth about her own parents, keeping her virginity intact hadn’t meant as much to her anymore. She just hadn’t met a man who’d drawn her interest enough to share his bed.
Her thoughts went back to McKinnon and she gritted her teeth, refusing to consider such a thing. The man was as exasperating as he was enticing. And at the moment, she had much more important things to think about—like finding a job.
She sighed and decided that after dinner she would return to her room. She had picked up a newspaper in town yesterday and intended to cover the Want Ads section. It was time she took control of her future. Making the decision to move to Montana to be close to Corey had been the first step. Now finding employment and a place to stay would be her second.
* * *
“I’m glad you took me up on my offer to stay the night, McKinnon,” Corey said, handing the young man a glass of some of his finest scotch. “Although you’re a skilled horseman, it’s too dangerous for you to attempt going back down that mountain this late. It would have been dark before you got to the bottom.” He then chuckled before tacking on, “And Morning Star and Martin would have my hide if anything were to happen to their oldest son.”
McKinnon grinned knowing that was true. He had a very special relationship with his mother and father, as well as his three younger brothers. Matthew was twenty-seven, Jason was twenty-five and Daniel was twenty-three, and all three were unattached with no thoughts of settling down any time soon.
It was hard for McKinnon to believe at times that Martin Quinn was actually his stepfather and not his biological father. He was in his teens when he’d been told that his natural father, a Creole of African-American descent, had died in a car accident before he was born, and that a pregnant Morning Star—a member of the Blackfoot Indian tribe, had gone to work for the esteemed Judge Martin Quinn as a bookkeeper, only to end up falling in love and marrying him before the child was born.
“So, how are things with the horse business?”
Corey’s question pulled McKinnon’s thoughts back. “They would be a lot better if I can get Casey to come work for me. I know I blew things yesterday but I had a reason for it. You know how I feel about another woman living at my ranch.”
Corey nodded. Yes, he did know but then they weren’t talking about just any other woman—they were talking about his daughter. He wasn’t born yesterday. He knew about the heated sparks that always went off when McKinnon and Casey were within a few feet of each other. In the past they had pretty much kept their distance but things wouldn’t be quite that easy here in Montana, especially since Corey and McKinnon’s parents were the best of friends.
“So how are you going to talk her into it?” he asked, knowing that McKinnon would make an attempt. When it came to the art of persuasion, biological or not, he was Martin Quinn’s son and Martin hadn’t moved up the ranks of powerhouse attorney to circuit judge in these parts without his persuasive nature.
Corey smiled. Poor Morning Star hadn’t known what had hit her all those years ago when she’d been talked into a marriage of convenience that had ended up being anything but that.
“Don’t know yet, but I won’t give up,” McKinnon said. “I promised Jamal that I would have that horse ready for him this fall, and I intend to do just that.”
“I hate to interrupt such important male conversation, but dinner is ready,” said a beautiful Abby Winters Westmoreland as she stuck her head in the door and smiled. “And Casey will be down in a minute.”
“We’ll be there in a second, sweetheart,” Corey said, smiling back at the woman he loved to distraction—had always loved.
McKinnon watched the loving exchange between Corey and Abby, which was similar to what he always saw between his parents. Some people were lucky to find their soul mate and spend the rest of their lives together in wedded bliss. He had long ago accepted that he wouldn’t be one of the lucky ones. His future was set without any permanent woman in it.
* * *
Casey hurried down the stairs knowing she was already a few minutes late for dinner. One of her brothers had phoned to see how she was doing. Even all the way from Texas, Clint and Cole were trying to keep tabs on her. She smiled thinking she was used to it and although she would never admit it to them, it felt good knowing they still cared about her well-being. Born triplets, the three of them had a rather close relationship, and by her being the youngest, Clint and Cole made it their business to try and be her keepers.
She moved quickly to the dining room and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw McKinnon sitting at the table. She tried to mask her displeasure at seeing him as he and her father stood when she entered the room. “McKinnon, I’m surprised you’re still here,” she said, trying to keep the cutting edge out of her voice.
She knew the smile that he gave her was only meant to infuriate her, but before he could respond her father offered an explanation. “It would have been too dangerous for him to try going back down the mountain this late, so I invited him to spend the night,” Corey said, once both men sat back down after she took a seat.
“Oh.” Casey tried not to show the cringe that passed through her body in knowing that McKinnon would be there all night. Just the thought that they would be sleeping under the same roof was nothing she wanted to think about. So she didn’t. As soon as grace was said and the food passed around, she tried concentrating on something else. “Everything looks delicious, Abby.”
Abby smiled over at her. “Thanks, Casey.” The older woman then turned her attention to everyone at the table. “I got a call from Stone and Madison today. They’re in Canada on a book-signing tour and said to tell everyone hello. They hope to be able to swing by here in a few weeks.”
“That would be wonderful,” Casey said, meaning it. She’d discovered that there had been only two females born in the Westmoreland family in her generation—her and Delaney. Delaney lived out of the country with her desert sheikh, but whenever she came to the States she made a point of contacting Casey, and had even traveled once to Beaumont to visit with her last year. But now that Delaney was pregnant her traveling had been curtailed somewhat.
Then there were the wives of her cousins she’d gotten to know. Shelly, Tara, Jayla, Dana, Jessica and Savannah were as friendly as friendly could be. And Madison claimed her as a stepsister instead of a cousin-in-law.
Deciding to completely ignore McKinnon as much as she could, she turned and struck up a conversation with Abby, who was sitting beside her. They got caught up in a discussion about the latest fashions, and who had broken up with whom in Hollywood.
As much as she tried not to overhear her father and McKinnon’s conversation, Casey couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their discussion regarding the best way to train a horse. She couldn’t believe some of the suggestions McKinnon was making. He would be a complete failure in this latest business venture of his if he were to follow through with any of them.
“It might be best if you stuck to horse breeding instead of horse training, McKinnon,” she couldn’t resist tossing in. “Anyone with any real knowledge of horse training who’s keeping abreast of the up-to-date methods would know that using a strap on a horse is no longer acceptable.”
McKinnon lifted a brow like he was taking what she said with a grain of salt. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is so. Although pain and intimidation may have been the way years ago, things have progressed a lot since then. Trainers are using a kinder and gentler approach to communicate with horses,” she stated unequivocally. “And it’s sad that some horse owners are still under the impression that such techniques as snubbing a horse to the post or running horses in mindless circles until they’re exhausted