Rancher in Her Bed Page 12

  To keep her at arm’s length? Or because he needed more coffee? She told herself not to overthink things. To just be in the moment.

  “I’m glad.” She bit her lip, wondering if he really had moved on considering his refusal to be in a serious relationship. But that wasn’t her business, since “serious” wasn’t what they were about. “And I appreciate knowing what was going through your head that night when you took off.”

  Xander’s phone vibrated, but he ignored it, focused on her.

  “It took me some time to put Rena in the past because I wasn’t just dealing with losing her. I was trying to figure out how I could have missed the signs that she wanted out.” He rolled his shoulders, as if shrugging away a weight.

  “Did she say why?”

  “Not anything that made sense to me. She said something about needing more time to find ourselves. As if I didn’t know exactly who I am and what matters to me already.” His jaw flexed just remembering the conversation. “But I don’t think that was the real reason. And I know she didn’t just make a snap decision about it. It was building for a while and I didn’t see it. Or I did, but I chose to ignore it. Hell, I don’t know.”

  She couldn’t imagine how he’d worked through those things after her sudden death. No wonder it had taken him time to move on. While she searched for the right words to offer what comfort she could, he continued speaking.

  “I immersed myself in work on the ranch for a long time, but this trip to Amarillo made me realize I’m ready to get back to my future with Currin Oil.”

  Surprised, she tried to imagine working here every day without seeing Xander. The vision of Currin Ranch without her favorite Currin left her feeling hollow. She barely fit into his world when she was a ranch hand and he was the foreman. How much greater would the divide be when he took over a multibillion-dollar corporation?

  “Really? That’s wonderful. Your father must be thrilled.” She tried to hide her mixed emotions, knowing she should be happy for him. Knowing it shouldn’t matter. She had her own dreams she was excited to follow, after all, and he’d been supportive of them.

  Yet their worlds would be so very different.

  “I haven’t told him yet. I only just figured it out last night on the flight home.” He stroked a hand over her knee, his palm a warm weight even through the denim of her work clothes. “I also wanted to see if you’d attend the next Texas Cattleman’s Club planning meeting with me. There’s a meet and greet afterward and I could introduce you around.”

  Touched that she didn’t even have to ask him about the party, she tried to focus on the positives. Xander might be leaving his work on the ranch, but at least he was still thinking of her. Helping her to achieve her dreams. Maybe that boded well for them to enjoy their affair a little while longer, until the flame burned out.

  She wasn’t sure what to think about his revelation about Rena, let alone how it affected them. She needed time to think about that, too. At times like this, her lack of experience with people felt all the more frustrating. If she hadn’t been raised in a vacuum, might she understand Xander better?

  “Annabel mentioned the meet and greet. I’d be glad to go with you.” That much, she was sure of.

  “Then it’s a date.” He finished his coffee before standing. “I’ll let you get to work and I’ll tell Len you’ll need the day off for the meeting. Can you be ready to leave by noon?”

  “For sure.” She put a lock on her runaway emotions, struggling to understand where she would fit in his new life now that he’d made a significant career decision. “We can celebrate your future as an oil executive.”

  It sounded a world away from ranch foreman, a job that had defined the Xander she knew.

  Still, she couldn’t deny that he seemed happier. Freer. As if he’d made peace with his past and was ready to move on. Frankie felt glad if she’d played a small role in helping him get there. Glad for his sake, anyway.

  For her own, she was already feeling him pulling away to embrace the life he was meant to lead. One that didn’t include an orphaned, runaway cowgirl with big dreams and an uncertain future.

  * * *

  Frankie had barely made it to the mall before closing after her volunteer shift at the animal shelter, but she’d been determined to buy an outfit worthy of another glitzy Texas Cattleman’s Club function.

  But the rush to shop—and the sting of parting with the extra cash for an outfit—paid off when she walked into the fancy Haciendas meeting space the next day in her sleek white sheath dress and matching short-sleeved jacket. While she knew without question that Annabel would have helped her in the wardrobe department, it seemed good to have chosen her own clothes. Today, she wasn’t the Cinderella beauty she’d been at the gala—a look that wasn’t really her. In today’s smart peep-toe pumps and fitted dress, she felt like the business professional she one day hoped to be.

  She’d put her hair in a low ponytail, neat and simple. With a gold bangle on her wrist, she was done accessorizing. And as she glanced around at the other women who attended the meeting and cocktail hour that followed it, Frankie felt she’d done a good job of choosing her outfit. Angela Perry was pretty and understated in a dark-cherry-colored skirt with a lightweight black blouse that had sheer sleeves. Her twin, Melinda, wore a more sophisticated suit that could have come straight off a Paris runway, but it wasn’t anything Frankie would have been comfortable wearing.

  “You look incredible,” Xander whispered in her ear as the formal meeting broke up and the social networking began.

  The Haciendas historic property was made up of four buildings just outside downtown. The largest of them served as today’s venue. The high cathedral ceilings were made of rich, dark wood, the oiled bronze fans spinning silently overhead. Whitewashed stucco walls and dark wood floors gave the place a Spanish feel echoed in the simple, heavy furnishings. Red hibiscus arrangements were the only pops of color.

  “Thank you,” Frankie murmured as she helped herself to a glass of seltzer water from a passing waiter while the staff steered the guests onto a large patio addition. Bamboo plants and potted palms lined the walls. “It’s unlike me to splurge on clothes, but if this is my last chance to spend time with the Texas Cattleman’s Club for a while—”

  “Why would it be the last chance?” Xander asked, his hand briefly touching the small of her back.

  He stopped off to the side of the room while the rest of the Texas Cattleman’s Club organizing members moved onto the patio that extended outdoors. A bar was set up on the far end of an outdoor garden, and a lone classical guitar player strummed a tune near a wall of live plants. The volume of the party turned up a notch, everyone relieved to have the business part of the day behind them.

  Even Sterling Perry seemed content to stay on the opposite side of the room from his rival, Ryder Currin.

  Frankie wished she could simply focus on the party and regretted her verbal misstep, since Xander hadn’t officially told her that things were over between them. But she wanted to make things easier for him.

  For both of them.

  “I just mean—I know you’re taking the job with Currin Oil, so we won’t be seeing each other as much.”

  His head tipped to one side as he studied her. “Why would you think that?”

  She was saved from answering the question when Xander’s father, Ryder, appeared over Xander’s shoulder.

  “Hello, Frankie. I’m sorry to interrupt, but, Xander, I wonder if you would consider keeping an eye on things for a few minutes while I step out to speak to Angela?” Ryder glanced over his shoulder toward where Sterling held court near the bar. “We don’t need a repeat of what happened at the Flood Relief Gala.”

  “Of course.” Xander nodded, but he kept his focus on Frankie.

  Her belly knotted from nerves. She really didn’t want to upset Xander, especially when she’d hoped to use the meet
and greet as a chance to network.

  “You should introduce Frankie around.” Ryder smiled down at her, his blue eyes so like his son’s. “I’m sure she’d like the chance to speak to Zane Daughtry. His son is a veterinarian in Galveston, you know.”

  “I’ll do that,” Xander assured him, his hand curving possessively around her hip as he shifted closer. “Thanks, Dad.”

  When Ryder moved away, Frankie peered around the room. “Which one is Zane Daughtry?” she asked, hoping to distract Xander from the conversation they’d been having.

  But before Xander could answer, an auburn-haired beauty stopped in front of them, gasping audibly as her eyes met Frankie’s.

  Noticing the other woman, Xander pasted on his social smile. He greeted the newcomer kindly enough, but his cadence sounded stilted as he spoke. “Good to see you, Abby.” He followed the woman’s gaze to Frankie, clearly recognizing that Abby stared at her openly. “Have you met Frankie Walsh? Frankie, meet Abigail Langley.”

  Frankie had the strangest sensation looking at the woman. Abby Langley was probably in her mid-to late-thirties, with long red waves. But the most striking thing about her was that she gaped at Frankie as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “How do you do, Ms. Langley?” Frankie said politely, offering her hand.

  “Pardon me for staring.” The woman’s voice was whisper thin before she blinked and continued, louder this time. “That mark on your neck, my dear. I’d swear it’s the Langley birthmark.”

  The floor felt like it opened up beneath Frankie as she absorbed those words. Her hand went to her neck.

  “My birthmark?” she repeated, not understanding.

  “Most of the women in my family are born with it,” Abigail informed her. “And you’d be just the right age. How old are you?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m confused.” She gripped Xander’s free hand, needing it to ward off the faintness she felt as a buzzing started in her ears.

  Xander intervened, his tone concerned. “Abby, what are you talking about?”

  “Your eyes are just the right shade of green.” Abigail still stared at Frankie, to the point their conversation was attracting attention from the rest of the party. “My cousin, Josie Langley, lost her little girl twenty-three years ago in a flood like the one that rocked Houston this spring. And I can’t help but notice you bear more than a passing resemblance to Josie. That’s why I gasped when I saw you.”

  Abby Langley pulled her phone from her leather clutch and flipped through screens while Frankie tried to get her head around what she was suggesting.

  The room started to spin. The math added up, since Frankie was indeed twenty-five years old. And her parents had claimed to have found her when she was two.

  “You think that I could be—”

  Abby flipped her phone around to show Frankie a photo of an attractive woman with dark hair and green eyes. The expression on the brunette’s face was familiar because it was the same one Frankie glimpsed in the mirror every day.

  The woman in the photograph bore her an uncanny resemblance. An older version of Frankie herself.

  “Even without the birthmark, I would have been stunned at your resemblance,” Abby said, her hand trembling as she shared the picture. “But considering that distinctive crescent moon on your neck, my dear, I’d say there’s an excellent chance that you’re the lost Langley heiress.”

  Ten

  An hour later, Xander sat beside Frankie in one of the historic inn’s private rooms close to the Texas Cattleman’s Club meet and greet. He hadn’t known where else to go with her to have an uninterrupted conversation, so he’d flagged down one of the event organizers and requested accommodations.

  Frankie had been so pale after the intense encounter with Abigail Langley that he’d been worried about her. Now, they sat in a glassed-in sunroom off the back of a secluded hacienda on the ground floor. They could look out over the meet and greet spilling out onto the inn’s private grounds in the larger hacienda nearby, but he didn’t think anyone could see into their suite with the way the windows were tinted.

  He’d ordered a tray of food from catering, but so far Frankie hadn’t shown any interest in the five-star offerings. She sat on a leather upholstered chair at a heavy hardwood table, her fingers clamped around a mug of tea that she’d accepted from him even though she hadn’t taken a single sip. She stared out at the cocktail party going on without them, but her green eyes were unfocused.

  “Should we call someone? Your parents, perhaps?” he suggested gently, not wanting to upset her. “If you shared what Abigail told you, maybe they could offer more answers for you. One way or another.”

  He wasn’t sure what he believed about Abby’s shocking revelation. While he couldn’t deny Frankie bore a resemblance to the Langley relative whose picture he saw on the phone, he also didn’t want to get her hopes up. What if Abby’s insistence that Frankie was heir to the Langley fortune was born out of the woman’s own desire for family? It sounded far-fetched to find a long-lost relative in a crowded cocktail party.

  After her pronouncement, Abigail had been ready to arrange for Frankie to have DNA testing, but Xander had asked for some time to digest the news since he’d seen how upset Frankie was. He’d then promptly spirited her away. He would have left the party altogether but that would have necessitated walking through the crowd. The deserted side room offered a speedier, more private respite.

  “Why would my adoptive parents start telling me the truth now?” She lifted the mug toward her lips and then hesitated, setting it back on the table, her hands trembling, her voice tight, angry. “I asked them for answers my whole life, and all that ever accomplished was a greater commitment to keeping me isolated from the rest of the world.”

  Isolated because they were protective? Or because they’d kidnapped her? She had to be wondering the same thing.

  “But if they knew about this—about Abby Langley’s insistence you’re a relative—maybe they could at least give you enough details to explain why that couldn’t be true.”

  If they weren’t kidnappers. Although there were other options, like a sketchy adoption with someone else at fault.

  “You don’t think it’s true?” She peered across the table at him where he sat diagonally from her. Her gaze was focused now. Intent. “That I’m this long-lost heiress?”

  A candle in the table’s centerpiece flickered in the breeze from an overhead fan, the surrounding fresh sunflower blooms rustling slightly.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I just meant that your parents might share enough facts to quickly disprove it, and save you from the angst of waiting for DNA test results.”

  He couldn’t help but feel protective of her. Her pain reached out to him, drawing him in and making him hurt for her.

  “Or they could hedge, the way they always have, and make me all the more resentful that I lost out on a normal childhood because they were continually worried someone would show up with a better claim to me.” She set aside the tea and stood, pacing over to the wall of windows looking out on the cocktail party.

  The blue glow of the lighted swimming pool illuminated the garden as the sun set, the landscape spotlights flickering on automatically.

  Not sure how to comfort her when he had the same concerns, Xander followed her to stare out over the festivities. He slid an arm around her waist, drawing her against him. She fit there perfectly, her head tucked under his chin. He tipped his cheek against the silky strands of her hair.

  “No one can claim you now, though, Frankie,” he reassured her. “You are your own woman. Everything you’ve achieved, you’ve accomplished on your own. And that’s a lot to be proud of.”

  “But how much easier might it have been with the help of a family?” She edged back a step to look at him. “I’ve tried to cram a lifetime worth of experiences in the last seven years since I left home, d
esperate to make up for the way I couldn’t do anything as a kid. The ranch work, bronc riding, straight As in school, volunteering my free time at the shelter—I was starving for a taste of the world.”

  Had their affair been another facet of her attempt to taste the world? The realization stung. He hadn’t guessed that about her, although perhaps he should have made the connection. He admired how high-achieving she was, but had her need for experiences come at a price? To both of them?

  “No one can take away what you’ve accomplished,” he insisted, wondering if she understood how impressive it was to be on the verge of veterinary school when she’d done it all on her own. “No one can say you got where you are because of your family.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t have minded some help.” Folding her arms, she glared out at the party continuing without them. “The Perrys and the Currins might vie for an advantage over each other, but they’re both very sure of their place in the world. Just the name—either name—gives you power.”

  “You want it to be true.” He hadn’t been sure of that until now, hearing the edge in her voice. “You want to be the Langley heiress, don’t you?”

  She turned back to him. This time, the pain in her green eyes was startlingly clear.

  “Who in their right mind would choose to be an orphan over a woman with family and connections? A family whose powerful name could have given me the kinds of advantages you’ve had?”

  Intellectually, he could see her point. Of course he could.

  That didn’t mean he was as ready to embrace her future as a Langley. Everything between them would change. Both of their families would take an interest in their relationship. The Langleys and the Currins—two well-known Texas families—would each have a stake in their dating lives. There would be more pressure. More scrutiny.

  More of the suffocating atmosphere that had made Rena want to escape from their engagement.

  Then again, would a Langley heiress even want to date the Currin who’d been working as a ranch foreman? He hadn’t stepped into the Currin Oil CEO role yet. Things were already shifting between them faster than he could keep up.