Gambling on a Secret (37 page)

“Hello, son,” his father said after she’d pushed the appropriate button on her phone. “Your mother told me you have good news?”

“Hi, Dad.” Taking a deep breath, he plunged headfirst. “Yeah, I do. I’m seeing someone. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Oh, Dylan,” his mother gushed.

“Who is she?” his father asked. Leave it to Robert Quinn to sound suspicious.

“No one either of you know.” He paused again. Why did he feel like a teenager asking to borrow his parents’ car to take a girl out for the first time? “She’s my boss, actually. Charli Monroe. We’re living together.”

“Your boss?” The general didn’t keep the disapproval out of his voice. “Sounds serious, and damned complicated.”

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said as if it would explain everything.

“Oh!” his mother choked. Crying? “We are so happy for you.”

You may be, but Dad’s already wondering how long it will last and how his son could ever cross the line of propriety by falling for his boss.
He forced the negative thoughts out of his mind.

His parents hadn’t even met Charli, but there wasn’t anything about her not to love. She was caring, loving and the most sincere person he knew. Sure, she had probably done things that were illegal, but her persevering despite a possible hellish past on the streets of Las Vegas was admirable–and one of the things he loved most about her. She inspired him to rise above his own hell.

“We’re pretty happy about it, too.” He had stopped doubting the baby was his, and couldn’t wait for him or her to be born. He might not ever be a great father, but if he did his best, that was all anyone could hope for.

Maybe his father had done his best, too.

His mother got her tears under control. “Put her on.”

“Charli’s not with me at the moment, but I promise I’ll call back as soon as possible so you can meet her.”

“Good.” His dad cleared his throat. “When’s the wedding?”

His mouth was as dry as a West Texas summer. “We haven’t decided to get married–yet.”

“Why the hell not?” his father barked. “If you’re living with her and you’re happy about a baby, why aren’t you getting married? I know times have changed and people live together all the time, but dammit, you owe it to the baby to give it a stable home and your name. You aren’t not marrying her just because of that ridiculous idea of yours not to have kids, are you? If you aren’t man enough–”

“Bob, please.” His mother broke in. “This is Dylan’s life and we have to let him live it.”

“Marriage is the right thing to do,” his dad said.

He tried to unclamp his jaw. Now, he remembered why he hadn’t wanted Charli around when he told his parents about them. He’d known his father would react like this. “I think the decision is between Charli and me, sir. We’ve both been burned. Badly. So, we decided not to rush into marriage. I didn’t say we’d never get married. We’re just waiting to make sure it
is
the
right
thing to do.”

He should stop, but before he knew what was happening, he said, “I never was man enough for you, was I, Dad? Never the perfect son.” He tightened his hand around the receiver. “Have you ever considered the fact that maybe you aren’t perfect yourself?”

Silence. Had his parents hung up on him? “I know I’m not perfect, son.” His father’s deep voice rumbled over the phone. “I missed so much of yours and your sister’s lives. I could have been a better father. And I’m sorry you thought I–” He paused for a moment, and he could almost
see
the general run his hand through his hair–a habit Dylan had when he was nervous. “I swore I’d never become a pompous, overbearing ass and treat my own kids like my father treated my sister and me. I guess I broke that vow.”

Had his father admitted to being wrong about something? He wasn’t sure he could take many more surprises for one day.

He cleared his throat and got down to the business he’d called about. “There’s another reason I called.” He closed his eyes. How to explain? He’d always been a straight shooter, so why change now? He turned his chair around and looked out the window. “The sheriff has come by information suggesting Granddad’s will was forged.”

“
What
?” his parents said at the same time.

He reined in his hatred for Leon and his frustration with his father and explained how he’d come by the information.

His dad was the first to recover on the other end of the phone. “If this is true, there may be grounds to contest the will.”

“I should have known Daddy wouldn’t have completely cheated us out of an inheritance.” Eileen’s voice was as hard as he’d ever heard it. “Daddy had often talked about you running the ranch, Dylan. It shocked and hurt me when Leon got the place lock, stock and barrel.”

He may have Butterfly Ranch with Charli and their child, but Oak Springs was in his blood. He was more Ferguson than Leon ever could be. His namesake was the youngest of the lucky poker-playing cousins.

He gritted his teeth as his mother said, “I should have contested it after he died. Why didn’t I?” She broke down, and he heard her soft sobs in the background. This time the tears weren’t happy ones, and they poked at the hatred twisting his gut for Leon Ferguson.

After his father murmured comforting words to his mother, Dylan loosened his jaw enough to ask, “Dad, do you think you could help us out? You have contacts I don’t. Zack Cartwright is already doing what he can as the sheriff, but I don’t trust anyone else, except for maybe Lance and Logan Cartwright, if I need a lawyer.”

Bob Quinn didn’t hesitate. “I’m already thinking about it. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out anything. But I think you already know, finding the real will is crucial, or everything will either be held up in the Texas courts or will go to Madeline.”

The last thing he wanted was his grandfather’s widow getting the place.

“Affirmative.” He gave him Charli’s landline number. “Thanks, sir.”

“Dylan.”

“Sir?”

“We aren’t in the Army anymore, son.” His father’s words sank in, his voice gruff. “I hope everything works out with you and Charli. You deserve to be happy. I never got along with your grandfather, but I never thought Jason would do something as cruel as build up your dreams of running the place just to shoot them down. If the ranch is supposed to be yours, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get it.” He was quiet for a moment. “Son, I just want you to know, I’m damned proud of you.”

He couldn’t fight the sting in his eyes and blinked several times to clear his vision. Before he found his voice, the phone on his parents’ end went dead, but he spoke anyway. “I’m proud of you, too, Dad.”

He hung up the phone and sat there for a long time replaying his father’s admissions in his mind. He thought about his reasons for not wanting kids. Were they really because he was afraid he wouldn’t be a good father, or were they because he hadn’t met the woman with whom he wanted to have kids? Had he always known Brenda wasn’t right for him?

He wanted to marry Charli. He loved her more than he’d ever loved Brenda, and he even wanted more than one kid with Charli. If only he knew for certain how she felt about him.

He shook his head at the Chinese puzzle laying before him. He was afraid to tell her he loved her, without her telling him first that she loved him. If she hoped for him to say the words first...

They could be together sixty years and have a passel of great-grandkids before either one of them said those three little words to the other.

But before he could contemplate a diamond ring and words of love, he had to deal with Leon.

* * * *

With her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she considered Leon’s threats, Charli paced the kitchen floor for a solid three hours after he’d left.

She didn’t doubt he’d do everything in his power to carry them out.

Leon Ferguson might have wealth, he might have the respect of an entire state, but he was the same kind of lowlife Ricardo Rodriguez was. Motivated by greed and cruelty, men like Leon and Ricardo intimidated and controlled by force to get what they wanted, and when that didn’t work, they committed murder to get it.

She paused and looked out the window behind the table. The barn stood across the wide driveway, freshly painted white, the new metal roof gleaming dark red in the setting sun. Only four short months ago, she’d looked out over at that same barn and wondered if it would ever be functional again.

Now cattle and horses grazed in the pastures. Her house was again beautiful and her gardens bloomed.

When she saw Dylan heading around the stable, her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught. If he hadn’t believed in her, she’d have fallen for Leon and all of his crap. She smiled at that. Dylan liked things straight up, he’d said, no bullshit to get to the truth.

She lost the smile.

Dressed in old Wranglers, cotton plaid shirt, scuffed work boots and a battered brown hat, Dylan limped toward her. She loved him, and she knew without a doubt he loved her. He wasn’t like any other man she’d ever known. Greed didn’t motivate him. He wasn’t power hungry or cruel. He lived by a code of ethics and had impeccable honor and honesty.

Could he ever forgive a liar such as her?

When he entered the kitchen, she met his gaze and knew she couldn’t risk losing him by
not
telling him about her past and Leon’s threats.

However as they stared at each other, she couldn’t force the words over her frozen vocal cords. After his arms swallowed her whole and his mouth came down onto hers, hard and hungry, she could do nothing but give and take in the soul-healing kiss.

Words were impossible.

Much later, as they lay within each other’s arms, Dylan said, “I called my parents this afternoon and told them about us and the baby.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked down at his face. “What did they have to say?”

He shrugged and shifted his eyes away from her. He wasn’t telling her something. “They’re thrilled and can’t wait to meet you. I bet Mom’s already picking out baby clothes and telling all her friends she’s going to be a grandma again.”

She had to tell him about Leon. “Dylan...”

Taking her hand, he looked in her eyes. “They will love you, Peaches. They’re happy for us.”

“How can you know that?”

He rolled them over until he was above her. As he nuzzled her neck, he murmured, “Because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Her breath caught and she gripped his biceps. Shock and tingling excitement zinged through her. Her eyes burned and moisture gathered in their corners.
Tell him!

His soft gray eyes looked down into hers and a smile touched his lips. “Charli, I should have told you this a while ago, but–” The phone rang, cutting him off, and he cursed. “I have to get it.”

He rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. Why he hadn’t let it go to the machine?

“Hello?” He paused and then he barked, “What the hell do you want?”

She sat up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away.

Dylan stood and thrust the receiver at her. Taut contempt replaced the love she’d seen in his expression only seconds ago. “Here. It’s for you.”

Trying to calm her racing heart, she glanced at the clock; it was only a little past nine. With an unsteady hand, she took the phone and held it to her ear. “Yes?”

Dylan headed into the bathroom.

She flinched when the door slammed shut.

“My sweet bride-to-be, I’m just checking to make sure you and the baby are okay.”

“Go to hell.” She glanced at the bathroom door and spoke in a low voice. “I never want to talk to you again.”

“Oh, Bambi. I do like your spirit. I’m sure it was the reason Rodriguez could demand hundreds of dollars for a night of pleasure with you. I can’t wait until you’re in my bed.”

She gripped the receiver with a sweat-slickened palm. “I will die before that happens.”

Leon chuckled, and she shuddered at the mocking sound of it. “What if Dylan was out of the way, would you reconsider then?”

“I intend to tell him, Leon. I’ll tell him everything–about my past and your threats.”

“Do you know how Jock Blackwell died?” He didn’t wait before providing the answer. “The former owner of your ranch didn’t want to sign the ranch over to me, either. Then one day he went riding out on the range and fell off his horse. He hit his head and was dead for two days before his youngest bastard come by looking for him. I heard it was a gruesome sight. Quite remarkable, too, since Jock was a rodeo bull rider in his younger days. I wonder what a lawman of the caliber of Zack Cartwright would do, if a similar fate befell his friend. I doubt the sheriff would rest until he discovered who killed him, Bambi.”

Slamming the receiver into the cradle, she trembled with anger and terror at the picture Leon painted. If she told Dylan about Leon’s threats, Dylan would go after him. Protecting him meant she had to remain quiet, but she had no intention of letting Leon win. She just had to figure out what she could do.

But she couldn’t tell Dylan she loved him without telling him about her past. And about Leon.