“Here.” He shook out the rain poncho, removed her hat and placed the poncho over her head.
“I don’t need—”
“Shut up, Reese.” He replaced her hat and fastened the top snap on the poncho, the one beneath her chin. “It’ll help keep you warm.”
The thrill turned into a flush as his fingers brushed her exposed skin. Who needed a poncho when Gabe’s proximity was enough to warm her from the inside?
“O...kay.” Please don’t let him notice the effect he was having on her.
“Here.” He lifted her hand and pressed the object he’d taken from the saddlebag into it. “Enjoy.”
She stared at the energy bar. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because...”
“You’re as stubborn as your father.” A smile touched his lips.
She thought it might be his first one in days or even weeks. Nothing could be worse than losing a loved one.
“I’ll eat this,” she said, “but only if we share.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss McGraw.”
He hadn’t seen anything yet. Just wait until they butted heads over his father’s estate.
Ripping open the wrapper, she removed the energy bar and broke it in half.
He accepted the piece, his fingers brushing hers. Was it intentional? She wouldn’t put it past him. Gabe had always been a ladies’ man, starting in high school. She was surprised he’d reached the age of thirty without some woman snapping him up.
Then again, no one had snapped up Reese, either, though she’d come close once. Perhaps Gabe was like her, married to his work.
They didn’t speak while they ate. Reese stared up the road. No sign of her father yet. When she was done with her half of the energy bar, she checked again on General, then returned to Gabe, pulling the poncho closer around her.
“Still cold?” Gabe asked.
“A little.”
“We could huddle for warmth.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
His smile returned. “I don’t bite, Reese.”
Sweet heaven, he was gorgeous. “I’m fine.” She was not letting Gabe touch her, much less hold her.
Headlights appeared in the distance, about a mile up the road. Reese released a long sigh. As assistant manager of Southern Arizona Bank, it was her job, her duty, to conduct herself professionally and impersonally with the Dempsey family. Huddling with Gabe, even for warmth in extreme weather conditions, wasn’t either of those things.
She waved as the truck and trailer neared. “Dad’s here. You don’t have to stay.”
“All right,” he said, his tone unreadable, and mounted the mare.
“What about your poncho?”
“Keep it.” Gabe tugged on the brim of his cowboy hat. “See you around.”
She watched him ride off into the darkness toward Dos Estrellas, barely noticing the truck rumble to a stop behind her.
He’d do more than see her around. Thanks to August Dempsey revising his will six months ago, Reese was about to become a fixture in the Dempsey brothers’ lives, and there was nothing they could do to change it.
“If you’ll all please have a seat, we can get started.” Hector Fuentes made a sweeping gesture that included everyone in the spacious living room. He lowered himself onto the cowhide upholstered recliner where Gabe’s father had once dozed every afternoon while waiting for Raquel Salazar, Gabe’s mother, to finish putting supper on the table.
Better it was the family attorney occupying his father’s favorite chair than one of his half brothers, Gabe thought sourly.
Brothers. The word still sounded strange to him. Two full days in their company had made no difference. Neither had attending the funeral together yesterday or sharing coffee with them before spreading their father’s ashes in the flower garden this morning. Gabe didn’t know these men.
It was his mother’s idea they take the guest suite in the house rather than stay at the Wild Horse Bed and Breakfast in town. “They’re family,” she’d told Gabe. “Your father would have wanted it. And we have plenty of room.”
Gabe had seethed in silence instead of arguing. Did his mother have to be so nice to them? If they inherited the ranch, she’d be thrown out of her home.
After casting tentative glances at each other, the brothers in question sat in matching wingback chairs—which happened to be directly opposite Gabe, his mother and Cara Alvarez. Cara was the daughter of Raquel’s childhood friend Leena and had lived with Gabe’s family the past two years.
Consciously or subconsciously, Gabe, Raquel and Cara had made a united front on the couch.
No one else had been invited to the reading of the will, giving Gabe reason to believe those present were the only ones named as beneficiaries.
He swallowed, but the knot of pain residing above his heart didn’t loosen. Those two men shouldn’t be here. His father had promised Gabe the ranch. Many times over.
What had changed August Dempsey’s mind at the eleventh hour? Was the cancer to blame? Had all the medications and treatments ravaged his body and mind? Or had he lied to Gabe and intended to give the ranch to his legitimate sons all along, leaving Gabe with nothing?
Using his briefcase as a lap desk, Hector Fuentes cleared his throat and tapped a thin stack of papers into a perfect rectangle. “If it’s all right with everyone, I’ll skip the standard legalese and get right to the bequests. I’ve brought copies of the entire will for everyone and will distribute them later to those who want one.”
Gabe wanted a copy. He’d bet his brothers would, too.
Hector smiled at Cara before beginning. “To Cara Alvarez, who has been like a daughter to Raquel and myself, I grant exclusive use of five hundred acres of Dos Estrellas pasture land, to include parcels six, seven and eight, for her mustang sanctuary.”
Cara’s hand flew to her mouth, and she inhaled sharply. The sanctuary and its horses meant a great deal to her. For his father to include her in his will showed how much he’d considered her to be part of the family.
His mother bit back a sob and placed an arm around Cara’s shoulders.
“Cara is to have use of the parcels for as long as she wants,” Hector continued, “or for as long as Dos Estrellas remains in the family.”
Remains in the family. The words gave Gabe hope. His father wouldn’t have allowed Cara exclusive use of nearly one-sixth of the ranch and not bequeath Gabe the entirety of it. Nothing else made sense.
Hector continued, outlining the specifics. “Do you have any questions?” he asked Cara when he was done.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.
“Raquel, the love of my life, and Cara both,” Hector said, “will continue to reside at Dos Estrellas and occupy the ranch house for as long as they choose or for as long as the ranch remains in the family.”
Again, Cara inhaled sharply and his mother softly sobbed. Gabe, on the other hand, began to worry. What was with the wording, as long as the ranch remains in the family? Twice his father had used it. There must be some significance.
“Any questions?” Hector repeated when