When they were in high school he used to take his Jeep four-wheeling all over the pastures, which annoyed both her father and his own to no end, but which amused him enough to keep doing it. He was a wild kid, in stark contrast to her own serious nature, and they had butted heads over their differences repeatedly while growing up. In junior high school, he’d called her “Serious Sally” and she’d privately been a little afraid of his untamed ways.
But Kate could also remember, with crystal clarity, a time when she’d seen him shoot his own dog as it ran in the paddock. She’d watched the whole thing in sheer horror, then run away without looking back, vowing to never go within sixty yards of the Devere Ranch again. It was proof of what she’d already begun to suspect: Ben wasn’t what he seemed at all. Sure, people thought he was charming and smart, and more than one girl—heaven knew!—had fallen for his charisma. But the fact was, Ben Devere wasn’t who he appeared to be.
That conclusion made Kate more comfortable with what he’d done to her.
Ben had been regarded in high school and in town as a hot playboy; the kind of guy girls wouldn’t count on to call them in the morning, but with whom they were willing to take the chance nonetheless. If the stories were true, scores of women had fallen prey to his charms. Even Kate had kissed him once at a party, the summer after their senior year. It had been a hell of a kiss, and for a few weeks afterward, she’d harbored hopes that he would call and that perhaps…well, whatever. Later, she realized it had only been a heat of the moment hormonal rush for Ben.
But perhaps had never come and Kate had learned to regret having admitted to her affection for him. She’d also learned to regret having trusted him. If his friend Lou Parker was to be believed, he’d only been with Kate as a joke, the response to a dare. Lou’s subsequent advances on her had only served to make the insult that much greater.
Shortly after that, Ben Devere had left town and, after the humiliation she’d been through, she was glad to see the back of him. She’d hoped he’d never come back.
But now he had.
And her sister, who should have known better, was actually suggesting she date him.
“No way,” she said to Bianca, and reached down to pet her dog, Sierra, who was lying at her feet. She’d had the retriever for twelve years now, and he was getting old and thin, but he was a member of the family. “I’d rather become a nun. Now let me get back to work, I have to talk to Dad about the finances.”
Bianca perched her hands on her slender hips. “So that’s it? We’re just not talking about my marriage anymore?”
“No, I’d be glad to talk about your marriage. It’s my marriage, or the lack thereof, that I’m not talking about anymore.”
“Fine.” Bianca smirked. “Then I don’t have anything else to say to you at all.” She huffed out of the room and Kate watched her go with mild irritation.
It had always been this way with Bianca. She should have been used to it by now, but somehow she always hoped her sister would rise to the occasion and take the high road.
Oh, well. She didn’t have the time or the emotional cash to spend worrying about it now. She had to balance these books, and while a half million dollars was a nice thing to add to any accounting ledger, she was uncomfortable with keeping it in the regular accounts.
She picked up the phone again to call her father.
Ben Devere drove the muddy side roads from his farm to Gregory Farms slowly, trying to talk himself out of his mission even while he accelerated toward it.
He couldn’t believe he had to ask Kate Gregory—of all people!—for a favor, especially one that amounted to his only hope of saving his late father’s farm for his mother. Kate Gregory hated him.
Growing up, he’d had a little bit of a crush on Kate. Well, maybe crush was too strong a word. But he’d always noticed her. While the rest of the world had fawned over her younger sister’s blond-haired-and-blue-eyed version of Kewpie doll beauty, Ben had been fascinated by Kate’s more subtle—but infinitely more interesting—assets.
The long chestnut hair didn’t look like gold, the way they said Bianca’s did, but it glowed like amber in the sunlight, with hundreds of different variations of brown and auburn painting the strands. Ben could have studied it for hours without getting bored.
And her eyes—they were vivid green and just shy of catlike. They were warm and cool at the same time. Intelligent and alluring, and never lined with the unnatural colors so many of the girls wore.
Ben often thought Kate said a lot more with her eyes than she did with her voice.
Then there was her body. He took a breath just thinking about it. Tight and strong and slender. Ben guessed that while Bianca sat on her cushiony behind and asked the ranch hands to bring her bonbons, Kate did the heavy work around the place.
Privately, Ben suspected it was Kate who had kept Gregory Farms such formidable competition for the Devere Ranch for so many years, which made her an enemy in a sense, but an admirable one. All of which made it doubly hard to have to ask her for her help now, since it was to keep the competition in business.
Ben reminded himself how important this was for his mother’s quality of life.
The last time he’d seen Kate had been one of the worst days of his life. His old dog, Banjo, who had seen him through the loneliest of his childhood years straight through college, had stayed out one night and gotten into a tangle with a rabid raccoon. It hadn’t taken long to figure out what was wrong, and when the vet had advised them to take Banjo out back, Ben wouldn’t let anyone go except for himself. It was a private thing, between him and his old pal.
Pulling that trigger had been the worst moment of his life, and it had felt as though it had taken a year.
No sooner was it over with, and the dog had hit the ground, had Ben heard a gasp and turned to see Kate Gregory running across the lower pasture toward her house. She must have known what was going on; the word had gotten out as a warning to all the local residents of what had happened.
Yet, when she’d seen Ben have to shoot his own dog, she hadn’t even mustered a single word of sympathy. She’d just run off into the sunset, literally and figuratively.
That’s the way Kate had always been—aloof, detached. Like no one could really get close to her or touch her heart.
He pulled his Jeep to a halt outside the main barn and got out. He took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do it. He just had to remind himself that, if he was careful, he might just score the one thing that could save his family’s farm. His feet crunched the gravel below him as he took slow steps toward the barn office.
“Ben?”
He turned.
The surprised voice belonged to none other than the platinum-haired Bianca, who was coming from the direction of the office. “Is that Ben Devere?”
“That’s right.”
“Good Lord, we were just talking about you.”
“We? We who?” This was weird. He didn’t even know anyone knew he was back. “And what were you saying?”
“Oh.” She hesitated just long enough to imply she was hiding something. “Nothing, really. Just that you were here in town. So what brings you here?”
This was it. Time to take that step. “I was hoping to see Kate.”
“Oh, were you?” Bianca raised an eyebrow. “How interesting! Now, why is that? You’re not planning to ask my single sister out on a date of some sort, are you?”