Ray raked a hand through his thick, dark hair, then walked over to the bar and poured himself another shot. He kept his back to her as he stared into the fire, his shoulders rigid.
She glanced around the living room, absorbing its warmth, giving Ray time to process what she’d told him.
She tried to put herself in his place, to understand how he must feel. Her grief over Joe’s death was almost unbearable, and she wasn’t even Joe’s biological family.
She’d always looked up to Joe for the time he’d donated to the children’s home, and had secretly hoped to meet his sons one day, sons that he took pride in and had talked about when Bobby wasn’t around.
Joe and Bobby had a tumultuous relationship. Barbara and Joe had kept an on-again-off-again relationship over the years, but Joe had never married Barbara. He’d also been in and out of Bobby’s life, partly by choice, partly due to Barbara’s moody behavior.
But Joe had admitted to Scarlet once that he’d always loved his wife. No one could ever replace her.
In some ways, Bobby had a right to resent Ray, Maddox and Brett. Although Joe had financially supported him and Barbara, he’d never taken them to his ranch. Even after he lost his wife, he hadn’t shared Bobby with his other three sons.
“So I have a half brother?” Finally Ray turned toward her, a harshness in his eyes. “How old is he?”
“Twenty-six,” Scarlet said.
“Just a little younger than me,” Ray muttered. “Damn my daddy. Even in death, he found a way to screw us.”
“I’m sorry, Ray.” Scarlet fidgeted. “I know this is a shock. Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but—”
“But you did come,” Ray snapped. “Because you and Bobby want something? What? Part of Daddy’s money? The ranch?”
Scarlet flinched at his accusatory tone. Although she reminded herself that she’d just dropped a bombshell on Ray at a time when he was grieving. Lashing out was a natural reaction.
But Joe McCullen’s words in that heartfelt letter echoed in her head. She had loved Joe, and even though he’d made mistakes in his life, he’d cared about her.
Ray must have read her silence as a yes. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want part of Horseshoe Creek?”
“Ray, please,” Scarlet said, her voice quivering. “It’s not like that.”
Ray’s jaw tightened. “Then how is it? You simply came to tell me you’re sorry my father is gone? That he has another son, but that he doesn’t want part of Dad’s legacy?”
Actually Bobby would want part of it. And Joe had made arrangements for him, only there were stipulations attached to it. She didn’t know what those stipulations entailed, but whatever they were, Bobby would balk.
“I won’t lie to you, Ray. I am here because your father left me something.” She pulled the letter from her bag. “I had no idea he’d included me or Bobby in his will, but he did. A lawyer named Bush contacted me about the reading.”
“Just as I thought,” Ray said, animosity dripping from every word.
Self-preservation kicked in. “Listen, Ray, I didn’t ask for this. And I don’t think Bobby even knows yet. He and Joe didn’t get along, and Bobby’s had problems in the past, so I don’t know what to expect from him now.” She shoved the letter toward Ray. “Just read this letter your father wrote me.”
Ray’s dark gaze latched with hers, tension stretching between them, filled with distrust.
Her hand trembled as she waited for Ray to take the letter. When he snatched it, she finally released the breath she’d been holding, sank back in the chair and struggled to calm her nerves.
But the sight of Ray’s big, tough masculine profile haloed by the orange-and-yellow firelight aroused feminine desires that she’d never felt. Desires that she had no right to feel for the man in front of her.
Desires that couldn’t lead to anything.
But something about his strong jaw, that heavy five o’clock shadow and the intensity in his eyes reminded her of Joe. Joe, the man who’d been like a father to her.
Joe who’d sent her here to meet his sons.
She clutched her drink glass again and sipped it. The warm scotch slid down her throat, warming her. Yet the alcohol also reminded her of Joe.
Why had he put her in this awkward position?
He had to have known that Ray and his brothers wouldn’t welcome her or want to share any part of their family ranch. That they would be angry, and that the truth would turn their world upside down.
* * *
RAY LEANED AGAINST the hearth as he studied the paper Scarlet had handed him. It appeared to be a handwritten letter to her.
In his father’s handwriting.
My dearest Scarlet,
I was blessed to have sons. But I never had a daughter—until I met you.
That first line knocked the breath from his lungs. But he forced himself to read further.
By the time he finished, his gut was churning. These were his father’s words. His father’s sentiments.
Betrayal splintered through him.
Scarlet wasn’t lying. His father had loved her, had lead a life that he’d kept from his sons.
What were Maddox and Brett going to say? They didn’t even know about Barbara...
“I realize this is a shock to you,” Scarlet said softly. “It was to me, too.”
Still suspicious though, Ray narrowed his eyes, determined to see the truth beneath the pretty exterior. She was dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, boots, her long blond hair natural, and she wore little makeup or jewelry.
Not his idea of what a gold digger would look like.
But who was to say she hadn’t conned his father into writing this when he was ill or on medication?
He’d worked as a PI long enough to know that con artists came in all shapes and sizes, that sometimes the most charming, alluring face hid a devious side beneath.
Scarlet had grown up in an orphanage. Wasn’t it common for children who grew up without parents or in troubled homes to have mental problems? Maybe she wanted a family so badly that she’d latched on to his father and had taken advantage of him in a weak moment and convinced him to take her in.
He cleared his throat. He needed more information before he showed this to his brothers. “Where did you get this letter?”
“It came registered yesterday.” She gestured toward the envelope. “You can see the return address on the envelope.”
Ray hadn’t paid attention to it, but he flipped the envelope over and noted the name of a law office. Bush Law, Darren Bush, attorney-at-law.
Darren Bush was his father’s lawyer. So she hadn’t lied about that.
“You realize I’ll need to make sure this is legitimate.”
Scarlet bit down on her lower lip. “Yes, but...I’d like the letter back. It’s the last thing Joe ever wrote to me.”
He clenched his jaw. “He wrote you other letters?”
Scarlet shrugged. “Not letters, but he gave me cards for encouragement when I lived at The Family Farm. And then on birthdays.”
Resentment bubbled inside Ray. Why had his father treated her so special when he’d ignored him?
Because you knew what he did to your mother. And his anger