“Are you the ranch owner?” he asked Shannon.
“No, that’s Chloe Martinez. She’s out of town until mid-December, but she left me in charge.”
Blake gave the nurse another once-over. She didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who would target an eighty-year-old man for financial gain. But was she capable of detecting an emotional exploitation going on under her nose—and then putting a stop to it?
Her eyes narrowed, and she frowned. Apparently he’d really set her off, although he hadn’t meant to.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” he said. “It might seem bright and early in the morning to you, but it’s been a long day and night for me, one that began more than twenty-four hours ago.”
“A successful investment attorney like you must be incredibly busy.” She removed her hands from her hips and folded them across her chest. “I’m surprised you were able to fit in a trip to Texas.”
She was right. He hadn’t created a successful career and comfortable life in Beverly Hills by taking vacations. And he didn’t have any time to waste in the Texas countryside now, even if the sights and sounds of the Rocking C stirred up old memories, reminding him of the ranch he used to visit every summer while growing up.
“In spite of what you’ve heard or might think,” he said, “I’ve really missed my uncle. And it’s high time I came to visit. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Did Sam know you were coming?” she asked.
“I wanted to surprise him.”
She nodded at the suitcase near his feet. “It looks as though you didn’t come for a short visit.”
“I might stay a while. It depends on how things go.”
She again eyed him carefully, assessing his stance and demeanor the way an opposing litigator would do. And for one fleeting moment it seemed as if she’d seen right into his heart.
Okay, so maybe she was astute—and not just a pretty face.
“You know,” she said, “rumor has it that you’re too caught up in making a buck and living the high life in the city to ever come to Texas. So I have a feeling your uncle will be surprised to see you.”
“He probably will be.” Obviously his uncle had been talking to his coworkers. And he hadn’t painted Blake in a very good light.
Shannon uncrossed her arms and softened her stance, although the skeptical expression she wore didn’t waver.
This wasn’t going well, especially since she was the one who was “in charge.” He’d clearly gotten off on the wrong foot.
Unfortunately, he’d been loaded for bear when he came to the Rocking C, which hadn’t been the right approach. So he’d have to do something to change that—and quickly.
He forced a smile and lightened his tone. “There’s something to be said about family issues and misunderstandings. There’s a lot more behind them than meets the eye. And there are usually two sides to the story.”
She arched a brow, challenging him to explain what his side or his explanation might be. But he didn’t want to get into the myriad emotions that had been brewing inside him since Sam refused to take his call yesterday.
It had not only stunned him when it happened, but just like an unexpected paper cut, it had also sliced him to the quick. That’s why he was determined to patch things up between them.
When he offered her a slight shrug, rather than an explanation that would require him to discuss hurt feelings, she said, “Then let’s hope your visit here goes well. Or your vacation or whatever it is.”
“For the record, I brought my iPhone and laptop, so I can work from here, if I need to.”
At that she smiled ever so slightly. “Good luck with that. The internet access here is sketchy at best, and the cell phone service is even worse.”
Then hopefully he wouldn’t have to stick around very long, just long enough to put a stop to the greedy schemer’s attempt to sway Sam into signing over the proverbial farm, not to mention paying her niece’s medical school tuition.
“I’ll manage without the telephone and internet,” he said, although he wasn’t sure how long he could do that and still stay on top of everything he had going on back at the office. Yet even if he couldn’t get as much work done as he’d hoped, he’d neglected his uncle for way too long.
The screen door swung open, and a redhead in her thirties walked out onto the extensive front porch without so much as a glance at Blake. “Good morning,” she said to Shannon. “Is it okay if I leave now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I was late.”
“No problem.” The redhead, who must be the night nurse, blinked her eyes a couple of times and yawned. “I’m going to head home and get some sleep.”
“I’ll see you this evening,” Shannon said.
The redhead had no more than climbed into a small Chevy pickup and started the engine, when Blake’s uncle strode into the yard as big as life.
At nearly eighty, Sam Darnell had a thick head of white hair under his Stetson, a warm glimmer in his blue eyes and a smile that wouldn’t quit. But he wasn’t smiling now.
He folded his arms across his broad chest and cast an accusatory eye on Blake. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. My new attorney bet me that you’d be here within twenty-four hours of receiving your copy of that document, but I thought he was wrong.”
Blake shrugged a single shoulder. He’d taken a red-eye flight out of LA to Houston, so he’d arrived at dawn. Even after the time spent on renting a car and driving to the ranch, he’d still gotten here with hours to spare.
Sam adjusted the brim of his hat. “Looks like I owe my new lawyer twenty bucks, on top of the payment for the work he did.”
Blake hadn’t expected his uncle to be happy to see him, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to be so damn angry. Still, if truth be told, Blake really couldn’t blame him. “I owe you an apology, Sam, but just to set the record straight, I don’t care about that change in trusteeship. Now that you’re as healthy and strong as ever, it makes sense that you’d want to take control again.”
Sam’s only response was a humph.
“We need to talk.” Blake glanced at Nurse Shannon before returning his gaze to Sam. He was tempted to suggest they speak in private, but he’d let his uncle make that call.
Fortunately, neither of them had to say anything because the attractive nurse took the hint. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”
Sam, who actually did resemble the robust rancher he’d once been and not the frail old man who’d nearly died last spring, lifted the flat of his hand like a traffic cop. “Hold up, Shannon. Will you check on one of my men before you go inside?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?”
Sam blew out a sigh. “Nate Gallagher was helping me dig out the mud from around that old pump so we could repair it, and he had a run-in with a broken beer bottle.”
The nurse grimaced, apparently concerned about injury. Then she smiled, transforming her mood completely and putting a glimmer in those pretty eyes. “I hope it wasn’t his beer bottle. I heard that a few of the new cowboys you hired can get a little rowdy, especially on their days and nights off.”
Sam’s grin softened his expression and shaved ten years off his face. “You must have been talking to Rex and Pete. Those old coots usually have something to critique about my new hands.”
“Yes,