Two-Week Texas Seduction (Texas Cattleman's Club: Blackmail 2)

At that moment Brandee Lawless popped into his mind. There was a woman he wanted to sweep into his arms and never let go. He imagined sending her hat spinning away and tunneling his fingers through her long golden hair as he pulled her toward him for a hot, sexy kiss.

But he’d noticed her regarding him with the same skepticism he used to glimpse in his father’s eyes. She always seemed to be peering beyond his charm and wit to see what he was made of. He’d never been able to fool her with the mask he showed to the world. It was unsettling. When she looked at him, she seemed to expect...more.

Someday people are going to figure out that you’re all show and no substance.

So far he’d been lucky and that hadn’t happened. But where Brandee was concerned, it sure seemed like his luck was running out.

Three

After snatching too few hours of sleep, Brandee rushed through her morning chores and headed to Royal’s history museum. She hadn’t taken time for breakfast and now the coffee she’d consumed on the drive into town was eating away at her stomach lining. Bile rose in her throat as she parked in the museum lot and contemplated her upside-down world.

It seemed impossible that her life could implode so easily. That the discovery of a single piece of paper meant she could lose everything. In the wee hours of the morning as she stared at the ceiling, she’d almost convinced herself to pay Maverick the money and resign from the TCC. Saving her ranch was more important than besting the terrible trio. But she’d never been a quitter and backing down when bullied had never been her style. Besides, as authentic as the document had looked, there was no reason to believe it was real or that it was in the museum where anyone could stumble on it.

Thirty minutes later, she sat at a table in the small reference room and had her worst fears realized. Before her, encased in clear plastic, was the document she’d been sent a photo of. She tore her gaze from the damning slip of paper and looked up at the very helpful curator. From Rueben Walker’s surprise when she’d been waiting on the doorstep for the museum to open, Brandee gathered he wasn’t used to having company first thing in the morning.

“You say this is part of a collection donated to the museum after Jasper Crowley’s death?” Brandee wondered what other bombshells were to be found in the archives.

“Yes, Jasper Crowley was one of the founding members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Unfortunately he didn’t live to see the grand opening of the clubhouse in 1910.”

“What other sorts of things are in the collection?”

“The usual. His marriage license to Sarah McKellan. The birth certificate for their daughter, Amelia. Sarah’s death certificate. She predeceased Jasper by almost thirty years and he never remarried. Let’s see, there were bills of sale for various things. Letters between Sarah and her sister, Lucy, who lived in Austin.”

Brandee was most interested in Jasper’s daughter. The land had been her dowry. Why hadn’t she claimed it?

“Is there anything about what happened to Amelia? Did she ever get married?”

Walker regarded Brandee, his rheumy blue eyes going suddenly keen. “I don’t recall there being anything about a wedding. You could go through the newspaper archives. With someone of Jasper’s importance, his daughter’s wedding would have been prominently featured.”

Brandee had neither the time nor the patience for a random search through what could potentially be years’ worth of newspapers. “I don’t suppose you know of anyone who would be interested in helping me with the research? I’d be happy to compensate them.”

“I have a part-time assistant that comes in a few times a week. He might be able to assist you as soon as he gets back from helping his sister move to Utah.”

“When will that be?”

“Middle of next week, I think.”

Unfortunately, Maverick had only given her two weeks to meet the demands, and if the claims were true, she needed to find out as soon as possible. Brandee ground her teeth and weighed her options.

“Are the newspaper archives here?”

The curator shook his head. “They’re over at the library on microfiche.”

“Thanks for your help.” Brandee gave Reuben a quick nod before exiting the building and crossing the street.

The library was a couple blocks down and it didn’t make sense for her to move her truck. She neared Royal Diner and her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten breakfast. As impatient as she was to get to the bottom of Maverick’s claim, she would function better without hunger pangs.

Stepping into Royal Diner was like journeying back in time to the 1950s. Booths lined one wall, their red faux leather standing out against the black-and-white-checkerboard tile floor. On the opposite side of the long aisle stretched the counter with seats that matched the booths.

Not unexpectedly, the place was packed. Brandee spotted local rancher and town pariah, Adam Haskell, leaving the counter toward the back and headed that way, intending to grab his seat. As she drew closer, Brandee noticed a faint scent of stale alcohol surrounded Haskell. She offered him the briefest of nods, which he didn’t see because his blue bug-eyes dropped to her chest as they passed each other in the narrow space.

Once clear of Haskell, Brandee saw that the spot she’d been aiming for was sandwiched between an unfamiliar fortysomething cowboy and Shane Delgado. Of all the bad luck. Brandee almost turned tail and ran, but knew she’d look silly doing so after coming all this way. Bracing herself, she slid onto the seat.

Shane glanced up from his smartphone and grinned as he spotted her. “Well, hello. Look who showed up to make my morning.”

His deep voice made her nerve endings shiver, and when she bumped her shoulder against his while sliding her purse onto the conveniently placed hook beneath the counter, the hairs on her arms stood up. Hating how her body reacted to him, Brandee shot Shane a sharp glance.

“I’m not in the mood to argue with you.” She spoke with a little more bluntness than usual and his eyes widened slightly. “Can we just have a casual conversation about the weather or the price of oil?”