Return to Oak Valley (44 page)

“Uh, I was thinking,” she began slowly, “about the house. Josh's house.” She took a deep breath. “Nick could live in it.” Growing more excited with the idea, she said, “It'd work out great. Josh only leased him the house and land where he's presently living; since I'm going to be living with you, he'd be right here where the cattle operation is centered—everything would be at his fingertips—the barns, the cattle, the office, the chutes, the lab, everything. It's more important that he be handy anyway—I'm the paperwork/telephone junky, and I can do that anywhere, even at your place, but he's the brawn and experience of our operation, and he really should be right here. What do you think?”

Sloan scratched his chin. “You know, I've been meaning to talk to you about Nick.”

Warily she looked at him. “Oh? What about Nick?”

“It strikes me that you two are thicker than thieves—which is sort of surprising—after all, he was just a kid when you left. You come back, after being gone for years, and all of a sudden you're in a partnership together and he's treating your house like it's home. The pair of you get along very well for relative strangers…” He bent her a look. “Or is there something you'd like to mention about now…such as the fact that maybe Nick
isn't
such a stranger? That maybe Nick's uncanny resemblance to your brother isn't just a coincidence? That maybe Nick Rios is really a relative?”

Shelly gasped. “You
knew
?”

“Hell, honey, have you forgotten that we live in Oak Valley?” Sloan asked dryly. “The whole valley knows—or suspects—that Nick is Josh's son. It's been a topic of discussion amongst all the old tabbies in town for years. The first time I learned about it, I was about sixteen and overheard my mom and several of her friends happily feeling sorry for your mother that Josh had embarrassed her so.”

“Oh, wow,” Shelly breathed, her eyes huge. “Poor Nick. And Maria. No wonder she doesn't want to talk about it—I'll bet some of those old witches have gotten their claws into her in the past.” She frowned. “Do you think Nick knows all the gossip about him?”

“Probably not. I can't think of a soul who is likely to walk up and ask him if it's true.” One brow raised, he asked, “So is it true? Is Nick Josh's son?”

Shelly nodded. “I think so.”

“Think?”

She made a face. “We have no way of proving it. Maria won't confirm it exactly, and even if she did say that Josh was Nick's father, it doesn't prove anything. My DNA would show we're related…but not that Josh is his father. Nick looks like a Granger—Roman spotted it immediately—but that doesn't prove anything either. Josh certainly made no effort to acknowledge Nick while he was alive—and his body was cremated, so we have no way of getting our hands on Josh's DNA to prove it one way or another.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don't know. Nick and I talk about it all the time—at the moment, he's content, sort of, that I believe him and treat him like my nephew.” Shelly's hands clenched into fists. “I've discussed it with the lawyer, but Sawyer, cautious bastard that he is, doesn't want to do anything—he says that Nick is just trying to get his hands on some of the estate.” Her voice shook with anger. “It's just not fair—Josh should have made provisions for him. Nick should own half of the estate and he should be able to claim the Granger ancestors as his own. He's my nephew, yet we keep up this pretense in public that he's just the housekeeper's son. As it is, he's living in some kind of limbo, neither Rios nor Granger.” She glanced at Sloan from underneath her lashes. “If I have my way, he'll be acknowledged and end up with half the estate…so remember that when you marry me, that you'll only get your greedy hands on half the Granger lands.”

Sloan growled and pulled her up onto his lap. His mouth found hers and he kissed her hungrily, his tongue delving deep, his hand cupping her breast and squeezing gently. “As long,” he said thickly, a second later, “as I am able to get my hands on
you
, that's all that matters to me.”

Aroused and trembling, she brushed her mouth against his. “Feel free,” she murmured throatily.

He did and he only let her go several minutes later when it occurred to him that if he attempted to make love to her in the swing he'd probably spend the next few weeks visiting the chiropractor. Setting her from him, he said reluctantly, “That's it. I have to go. If I don't, I'll do something that will spoil all my plans for our honeymoon.”

“Oh, are we going to have a honeymoon?”

“I don't know about you, but I'm certainly going to have one.” He leered at her. “I'm stocking my house with food and water, unhooking the phone, the fax, and the computer, and sending Pandora to stay with the vet.” He kissed her nose. “And you, my sweet, will be locked naked in my bedroom for at least six weeks while I have my wicked way with you whenever I want.”

“Sounds lovely. I can hardly wait.”

“Which reminds me—I agreed to not getting married for a couple of weeks, but I hope you don't plan on practicing abstinence,” Sloan said, nipping one of her fingertips. “I don't think we have to go so far as to announce our plans”—he made a wry face—“which would defeat the whole purpose of flying away for a private wedding, but on the other hand, I don't intend to be kept at arm's length either. I want to be with you.” His voice grew husky. “And I intend to be with you—a lot. I'll draw the line at sleeping here, but you better get used to me being your shadow.” He kissed her lips. “And I hope you'll come out to visit my place.” He grinned. “Conjugal visits. We can practice being married.”

Shelly blushed in the shadows, but she said airily, “Oh, I'm sure that I can live with those stipulations.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?” he asked with a lascivious look.

Shelly laughed. “Maybe, depending on what happens in the morning.” She grew serious. “I want to start checking some of the semen to see if it's viable. And if it is, as we're all pretty sure it is, Nick and I need to set up a whole new breeding program based on what's in those tanks.”

“You and Nick are really determined about making Granger Cattle Company a success, aren't you?”

“We are. And we're lucky that our skills complement each other's—he has the cattle know-how that I lack, but I'm a demon with paperwork—his downfall. We make a pretty good team.”

Sloan stood up, pulling her to her feet. His arms around her, he brushed his nose against hers. “But we'll make a better team, won't we?”

“Hmm, indeed we will.”

They walked down the steps to Sloan's vehicle. Sloan opened the door, but he couldn't bring himself to end the evening. He'd never thought that he'd be given a second chance with Shelly, and he was, despite feeling a fool about it, just a bit superstitious. He'd been this happy once before; once before they'd declared their love for each other and once before they had promised to marry….

His expression bleak, he glanced over at her. “You're certain about this? You're not going to suddenly change your mind on me, are you?” His gaze dropped. “Don't play with me, Shelly, not now, not this time. If you have any doubts, I want to hear about them now. What I don't want to have happen this time is for you to do another disappearing act on me. I don't think I could live through it again.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I won't pretend that I don't have some doubts—there's your side of what happened seventeen years ago and there's what I saw and heard.” When he would have protested, she put a silencing hand against his mouth. “No, listen to me. It isn't going to do any good for you to protest your innocence—one of you, Josh or you, deceived me, and I have to decide, if I ever can, which one of you lied. I loved Josh, and I love you. But I love you so much that I want to marry you even if I have doubts. See? I have no pride left where you are concerned.” A tear slid down her cheek. “It's hard, Sloan. I believed and trusted Josh all my life. And I
did
see you kissing her. And you did marry her within months of my leaving…”

His gaze hooded, Sloan nodded. “Yes, I married her—for all the wrong reasons. If you were hurt and miserable and felt betrayed, just remember I felt the same. No, not the same. Hell, for me it was ten times worse—I didn't know
why.
Jesus, the nights I lay awake wondering why, why did she do it?” His voice hardened. “You left me. You walked out without a word. I kept thinking it was a nightmare, that it couldn't be true.” He laughed, an ugly sound in the night. “After all, you'd sworn that you loved me, you couldn't have left me. We were going to be married—you wouldn't have left me without one single, goddamn word. Well, I was wrong. You did. And once I got over being hurt, I got mad, and there was Nancy waiting with open arms. She didn't love me; she loved the Ballinger fortune. I knew it at the time, but yes, I married her—I married her to spite you; to thumb my nose at the world, to show everyone that your desertion didn't mean a damn thing to me. My motives might have been crass and stupid, but I suffered for it.” His lips twisted. “And Nancy suffered for it, too. She found out too late that money wasn't everything, that being with the one you love is worth more than all the gold in the world.” He looked away. “She loved Josh, and I think he loved her, so I guess in the end, you could say that we all suffered.”

Her heart ached for him, for all of them. They had all made mistakes and paid dearly for them. Josh and Nancy were dead, while she and Sloan…. She and Sloan had a second chance.

She reached for him and with a muttered groan, he crushed her to his chest. “Don't disappear on me again,” he said hoarsely. “Please.”

Her face alight with love, she caressed his rough cheek. “I promise. I'll be here tomorrow and tomorrow and for all of our tomorrows. I love you. I always will.” A tremulous smile curved her lips. “Nothing is going to stop us this time. Nothing.”

Chapter Twenty-One

S
helly spent a restless night, excited at the prospect of marriage to Sloan, a little apprehensive about the future, a small part of her worried that in the face of Sloan's powerful personality and her own yearnings she was letting her heart overrule her mind. She did have doubts—but not about her love or her determination to marry Sloan. For whatever reasons, they'd lost seventeen years. She wasn't about to lose the rest of her life.

Because of her restless night, it was late when she arose. By the time she came downstairs, it was to find Roman using a small drip percolator to brew some very black, very strong coffee. A pot that, Shelly guessed, contained warmed milk sat on a nearby burner. Acey was seated at the table, a mug of regular coffee in front of him, disbelief in his gaze as he watched Roman concoct genuine café-au-lait.

“You ain't actually gonna drink that crap?” Acey asked as Shelly walked into the kitchen. “I've seen crankcase oil lighter and thinner than that stuff.”

Shelly laughed and dropped a kiss on Acey's white head—he'd dispensed with the bandage. “I hate to tell you this, but he drinks it every morning. It's a Louisiana thing. They all drink it that way—and in little bitty cups that most men would be ashamed to be seen holding.”

Roman turned around from his task and grinned at her. Picking up a dainty cup from the counter, he waved it in the air. “I packed mine, along with the percolator—when traveling west a man must take provisions.”

Acey made a rude comment, and Shelly grabbed a mug of coffee from the white coffeemaker on the counter. “I may have lived there for a long time, but I never could get used to the coffee.” Sitting down across from Acey, she took a sip from her mug and sighed. “Now that's how coffee should taste.”

“So what's on the agenda for today?” Acey asked. “I told Roman that if you didn't have anything special planned I'd take him on a trail ride, kinda show him the place.”

“No, that's fine.” She glanced at Roman. “You won't feel as if I'm deserting you, will you? I really want to test some of that semen and see how viable it is.” She looked around. “I'm surprised that Nick isn't here already.”

“He's been here, ate you out of house and home, and is currently in the barn, I believe, drooling over the semen tank,” Roman said, laughter in his voice. “You know, you people really need to get out more. A semen tank. You'd think that you'd found a gold mine.”

“To us it
is
a gold mine,” Shelly said, standing up. “Do you mind if I leave you with Acey for a few minutes while I go to the barn? I promise I won't be gone long.”

Roman's handsome face took on an expression of horror. “Deserted! A man of my looks and talent deserted for a semen tank! My God, my vanity may never recover.” He grinned at her. “Get outta here. Until you and Nick get over that tank, you're not going to be any fun anyway.”

Shelly was gone before he finished speaking. She found Nick in the lab, just standing and staring at one of the tanks, his hands resting on it as if it held the secrets of the universe. He was so lost in the moment that when Shelly touched his shoulder he nearly leaped out of his skin.

“Holy shit!” he yelled, jumping backward. Seeing who it was, he exclaimed, “Dammit, Shelly, don't go sneaking up on me like that.” Hand clutched to his chest, he stared at her. “You damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“I'm sorry,” Shelly said, trying hard not to laugh. “I thought you heard me come into the room.”

Nick smiled ruefully. “Nah. I was so mesmerized by the tank that a B-52 could have flown in here and I wouldn't have heard it.”

“So have you checked it out?” Shelly asked.

He shook his head. “I was waiting for you. Felt we should do it together.”

Nervous and expectant, they opened the first tank and after scanning the inventory carefully lifted out an ampule and selected one thin straw for testing. It had been a difficult choice, but in the end it wasn't age or glory that made their choice, it was simply that there were a lot of straws from this particular bull.

The microscope was set up, and while they waited for the semen to thaw in the thawing unit on the counter, they made a more thorough examination of the lab.

Looking into one of the cupboards, Nick whistled. “Man, I don't know what Josh must have been thinking—he kept this part of the operation right up to date, but let the actual cattle breeding and selling go to pot. I can't figure it out.”