But then, Buck had never had to endure the sort of environment Brandee had been thrust into after his death. In her mother’s house, Brandee had received a quick and unpleasant education in self-preservation. Her father’s position as ranch foreman had meant that Brandee could live and work among the ranch hands and never worry that they’d harm her. That hadn’t been the case with her mother’s various boyfriends.
She wasn’t proud that she’d learned how to manipulate others’ emotions and desires, but she was happy to have survived that dark time and become the successful rancher her father had always hoped she’d be. As for what she was going to do about Shane? What he didn’t know about his claim on Hope Springs Ranch wouldn’t hurt him. She just needed to make sure he stayed in the dark until she could figure out a way to keep her land free and clear.
Four
At Bullseye Ranch’s main house, Shane sat on the leather sofa in the den, boots propped on the reclaimed wood coffee table, an untouched tumbler of scotch dangling from the fingers of his left hand. Almost twenty-four hours had gone by since Brandee had called to thank him for finding her a horse and he’d been thinking about her almost nonstop. She’d sounded wary on the phone, as if expecting him to demand something in return for his help. It wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but it was pure Brandee.
What the hell was wrong with the woman that she couldn’t accept a kind gesture? Well, to be fair, he hadn’t acted with pure altruism. He did want something from her, but it wasn’t what she feared. His motive was personal not business. Would she ever believe that?
His doorbell rang. Shane set aside his drink and went to answer the door. He wasn’t expecting visitors.
It was Brandee standing on his front porch. The petite blonde was wearing her customary denim and carrying a bottle wrapped in festive tissue. She smiled at his shocked look, obviously pleased to have seized the upper hand for the moment.
“Brought you a little thank-you gift,” she explained, extending the bottle. “I know you like scotch and thought you might appreciate this.”
“Thanks.” He gestured her inside and was more than a little bewildered when she strolled past him.
“Nice place you have here.” Brandee shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as she made her way into the middle of the living room.
“I can’t take the credit. My mom did all the remodeling and design.”
“She should have been an interior designer.”
“I’ve told her that several times.” Shane peeled the paper off the bottle and whistled when he saw the label. “This is a great bottle of scotch.”
“Glad you like it. I asked the bartender at the TCC clubhouse what he’d recommend and this is what he suggested.”
“Great choice.” The brand was far more expensive than anything Shane had in his house and he was dying to try it. “Will you join me in a drink?”
“Just a short one. I have to drive home.”
Shane crossed to the cabinet where he kept his liquor and barware. He poured shots into two tulip-shaped glasses with short, stout bases and handed her one.
Brandee considered it with interest. “I thought you drank scotch from tumblers.”
“Usually, but you brought me a special scotch,” he said, lifting his glass to the light and assessing the color. “And it deserves a whiskey glass.”
“What should we drink to?” she asked, snagging his gaze with hers.
Mesmerized by the shifting light in her blue-gray eyes, he said the first bit of nonsense that popped into his head. “World peace?”
“To world peace.” With a nod she tapped her glass lightly against his.
Before Shane drank, he gave the scotch a good swirl to awaken the flavors. He then lifted the glass to his nose and sniffed. A quality scotch like this was worth taking the time to appreciate. He took a healthy sip and rolled it around his tongue. At last he swallowed it, breathed deeply and waited. At around the six-second mark, the richness of the scotch rose up and blessed him with all its amazing flavors—citrus, pears, apples and plums from the sherry barrels it was aged in, along with an undertone of chocolate and a hint of licorice at the very end.
“Fantastic,” he breathed.
Brandee watched him with open curiosity, then held up her glass. “I’ve never been much of a scotch drinker, but watching you just now makes me think I’ve been missing out. Teach me to enjoy it.”
She couldn’t have said anything that pleased him more.
“I’d be happy to. First of all you want to swirl the scotch in the glass and then sniff it. Unlike wine, what you smell is what you’ll taste.”
She did as he instructed, taking her time about it. “Now what?”
“Now you’re going to take a big mouthful.” He paused while she did as instructed. “That’s it. Get it onto the middle of your tongue. You’ll begin to tease out the spice and the richness.” He let her experience the scotch for a few more seconds and then said, “Take a big breath, swallow and open your mouth. Now wait for it.”
She hadn’t blinked, which was good. If she had, it would mean the scotch flavor was too strong. Her expression grew thoughtful and then her eyes flared with understanding.