Expecting the Rancher's Child (Callahan's Clan) (2 page)

“Mercy! I’d take that job, too. That’s the most handsome man to ever walk through this office. Don’t tell Bert I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Sierra said with a smile, thinking about her assistant director, Bert Hollingsworth, who was six years older than she was, with sandy hair he never could get totally under control and gray eyes that held a perpetual worried look. She had been friends with him since the moment they were introduced. Unlike her response to Blake Callahan, Bert had never once evoked any physical reaction in her.

Reassuring herself once again that she would see little of Blake once she was on the job, she tried to shove him out of mind.

“Will you please call Bert and then both of you come to my office? We have some things to discuss.”

Giving her a quizzical look, Nan nodded and picked up a phone, repeating Sierra’s instructions to Bert.

Sierra left her door open as she hurried to her desk and sat, taking the checks in hand to stare at them again in amazement. All that money—her head spun at the thought. She had promised her grandfather she would continue his hard work and help people when they needed help.

She had been raised to believe in the good in people, and every week she had proof of that goodness from one person or another. Blake Callahan couldn’t understand why she’d left interior design, but her career in nonprofit work was about what really counted in life. She had great faith in the ability of the human spirit to overcome adversity.

Shortly, Nan and Bert entered her office, Bert with his usual smile. “How’d the meeting go?”

“That’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. He’s hired me to do the interior design for a wing he’s built onto his ranch house. I’ll have to take a leave of absence.”

“I thought you gave up that career,” Bert said, frowning slightly.

“I thought so, too, but he gave me two payments—one for my work, and one as a donation to this agency. Here are the identical checks—each one for half a million.” She passed the checks to Bert, who shared them with Nan. Bert stared open-mouthed while Nan read the amounts again. Nan’s eyes were wide as she looked at Sierra.

“All that money to our agency,” she whispered.

“Saints above.” Bert shook his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I knew the man was wealthy, but this—I never dreamed we’d get this kind of donation.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t faint,” Nan said. “You don’t even have to share that with your old design firm.”

“No, but I’ll share my personal check with Brigmore Charities. I’m also going to share with Dad and his church. Just think what good we can do with all this money.”

“
I
may faint,” Bert said. “No wonder you took the job. How could he want you that badly?”

“He thought I did a good job on his hotel. I turned him down at first, but I don’t think the man is accustomed to hearing no. And there’s more. If I do a good job, he will make an annual contribution of this amount to Brigmore Charities for the next three years.”

Bert shook his head as if in denial.

“Is he single?” Nan asked.

Sierra bit back a smile. “Very. When I worked for him before, I heard gossip that he doesn’t have serious relationships.”

“I think you ought to use a little of that money for a background check on him. He wants you too badly,” Bert said.

Sierra smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think a background check is necessary. Look him up on the internet and look up his business. He can afford this check without thinking about it. His father is a billionaire, and Blake Callahan is wealthy on his own. There are a lot of women in his life. He has no need of me, except as a decorator.”

“Want me to come with you?” Bert asked, a frown creasing his brow. Sierra held back another smile.

“Thanks, Bert. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“If for any reason it becomes necessary, you call me and I’ll be right there.”

“I will,” she said, appreciating his offer, though it seemed ridiculous. “I won’t be alone. I’m hiring two people to help me. He’ll pay their salaries, and they’ll live on the ranch with me part of the time.”

“That’s good,” Bert said.

“If you need a secretary, don’t forget me,” Nan said, smiling.

For the next half hour they talked about depositing the check and presenting the donation to the Brigmore Charities’ board of directors.

Finally, Nan rose to go back to her desk. Bert came to his feet, he closed the door and returned.

“I want to talk to you.”

She sat behind her desk and waited.

“I don’t think you should take the job or accept the check.”

“You have got to be kidding,” she said, staring intently at him. “Why on earth not?”

“He’s up to something. That’s too much money.”

She held back a laugh. “I’ll repeat—Blake Callahan will never miss this money.”

“Why didn’t he go to the New York agency he hired when you first worked for him?”

“He should have, but he said I did the best job he’d ever seen. He’s accustomed to getting what he wants. He’s flying me there in his private jet. Stop worrying, and start thinking about the best use for this money.”

Bert shook his head and stood. “All right, but at the first sign of trouble, promise you’ll call me. Let me know where this ranch is.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him, knowing Bert had perpetual worries even when everything was rosy.

“If you’re okay…what a windfall for us. This is going to help a lot of people. Our buildings are old and need repair—the homeless shelter was the original charity and it needs a new roof, new plumbing—all sorts of things. We have a waiting list for the orphaned children and their building and grounds need work.”

“Plus the four-footed friends. Don’t forget our dog and cat shelter. This will buy a lot of chow, and we can run some great ads. Maybe we can get a bigger place because what we have is so tiny we can only take a few animals at a time.”

“True. I’ll get busy.”

“Good,” she said and watched him go, leaving her door open behind him.

She knew Bert’s worries were unnecessary, but there was only one threat from Blake Callahan.

That sizzling attraction that flared the first second they looked into each other’s eyes. Never again would she get involved with an employer—yet how well could she protect herself from Blake’s sexy appeal?

* * *

Late Friday afternoon Blake flew home to Dallas, where he had a small plane waiting to fly southwest to the tiny airstrip at Downly, Texas. At Downly he climbed into his waiting car and headed west to his ranch.

While he drove along a county road devoid of traffic, he thought about Sierra Benson. He hadn’t met her when she did the hotel job, so he had been startled when the air sparked with a chemistry that he suspected she felt as much as he did.

Some of the most beautiful women he’d dated had never caused that kind of reaction in him. When he had taken Sierra’s hand, the impersonal contact had had the impact of a blow to his middle, a tug on his senses that made him want to get to know her. His reaction to her had blown his intentions to hire her all out of proportion.

He had wanted her to handle the decor of his new wing because she was the best at interior design and decoration he had ever met. Add the intense physical appeal to her business skills, and he wasn’t about to let her disappear out of his life. He had overreacted by offering so much money, but when had a woman ever set his pulse pounding by merely saying hello? Or shaking hands with him?

Her stay at his ranch should be interesting. He knew he had acted impulsively, and in what was an uncustomary manner for him, but he didn’t want her to say no and disappear out of his life before he got to know her. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her. The thought set his heart racing.

Maybe their attraction was something that happened at first meeting and wouldn’t happen again. With the smoldering chemistry between them, he couldn’t keep from dreaming of seduction.

Dream on,
he thought. She was wrapped up in saving the world and would probably be earnest, wanting marriage if there was a relationship.

They were from two different worlds—her whole aim in life was helping others, a commendable ambition, but not practical. At some point reality would hit, and she would give it up. Right now, it seemed ridiculous for her to toss aside a career she had a tremendous talent for to do charity work. She could have had her own design firm! Instead, she looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and saw everyone as filled with a basic goodness—which was not practical.

This was a lesson he had learned early in life when his father abandoned him. There was nothing good about a man who would dump his wife and small child, cutting them permanently out of his life. He never gave time or attention, and they had been hurt repeatedly by his indifference. Eventually, Sierra would learn that not everyone could be saved.

He’d learned about the realities of human nature at an early age, watching his father be honored for his philanthropy only to turn around and lie to get what he wanted, cheat on his wife and abandon his children.

Sierra would soon be like the rest of the world—as out for herself as the next person, and all her sweet talk about saving souls would be a memory.
That
was human nature.

No, she was not his type in any way—except for that hot, intense, mutual attraction.

A scalding attraction he intended to pursue in spite of their differences, because it was obvious she felt it too. He intended to clear his calendar and spend some time at his ranch while she was there.

He had planned on being at the ranch this week, anyway, so it would work out well with her starting Monday.

Then he would find out if that mutual attraction was a first-meeting fluke—or something more.

* * *

Sunday afternoon Sierra watched from her window as the plane lifted from the tarmac and gained altitude, revealing Kansas City spread below. Her gaze traveled around the plush interior of the aircraft with its luxurious reclining leather seats, tables between them, a magazine cabinet, a television screen and a laptop. The plane circled the city and headed south.

As she flew, she checked again to see that she had the phone numbers for two people she had worked with who now had their own New York agency. They had accepted her offer to work on Blake’s ranch house, and they would start Monday.

Eli Thompkins was a quiet presence and excellent at interior design. She had admired his work before she graduated and gotten into the business, and she would be happy to work with him.

Lucinda Wells had started as an interior designer at the same time as Sierra. She was talented, specializing in contemporary design. Eli and Lucinda would look for art, paintings and sculptures, as well as furnishings. Sierra had already given them a few suggestions.

She’d taken care of the donation details with Bert before she left. She tried to focus on all the wonderful improvements and opportunities Blake’s money would provide, but nothing could distract her from the tingly anticipation of seeing him again. Would she have the same sizzling reaction to him?

She hoped not, because that would complicate her job. Blake was far too cynical; his dismissal of her current work was proof of that. It was as if he was unable to see the goodness in others. She couldn’t understand his outlook on life, and he didn’t seem to understand hers. She needed to keep him out of her thoughts.

What was even worse, she hadn’t slept well because of dreams that included Blake—dreams she definitely didn’t want.

Had he felt anything when they’d met? Or had she imagined his response?

She suspected that by tomorrow morning she would have her answers.

Right on schedule, they touched down at Love Field in Dallas. She thanked the pilot and departed, crossing to the waiting white limo for another luxurious ride.

When they finally turned onto the ranch road, they passed beneath a wrought-iron arch with the name BC Ranch.

As they approached Blake’s house, she saw barns, outbuildings and a sprawling two-story stone ranch house that had to have cost a fortune. Slate roofs glistened in the sunlight, and she could spot the new wing because of construction equipment still in the yard. In front of the house sprinklers slowly revolved, watering the lawn and beds of early spring flowers bordering the porch.

As she remembered Blake’s midnight eyes and black hair, butterflies danced in her stomach. She hoped when they greeted each other she felt nothing except eagerness to start this job and gratitude for his donation.

The limo drove around the house, pulled beneath a portico and stopped. Blake stepped out and approached them. In jeans, a navy Western-style shirt and black boots, he looked like the successful rancher he was.

The driver opened her door and she stepped out of the limo. When she looked up into Blake’s brown eyes, she realized this job would not be as easy as she had hoped, because a sizzling current rocked her to her toes.

How was she going to work with this tall, handsome man without giving in to this attraction?

TWO

O
n a windy March afternoon, Blake watched Sierra Benson step out of the limo. She wore deep blue slacks and a matching shirt, her hair tied back by a blue scarf.

Taking a deep breath, Blake walked over and extended his hand. He wanted to find out if he had the same sensual reaction he’d had when he first met her, or if that had been his imagination. The moment his hand enveloped hers, he had his answer.

He felt the same sparks, and he saw the same surprise flicker in her big, blue eyes.

He never dated anyone he worked with, and she was not the type of woman he would be friends with. Even as he thought of the reasons he should keep his relationship with Sierra impersonal and professional, he was caught in those blue eyes and didn’t want to look away. Far from it. When his gaze lowered to her full red lips, he inhaled, trying to ignore a flash of curiosity. What would it be like to kiss her?

With a mental shake, he tried to get a grip on his thoughts. For all he knew she was engaged, deeply in love with someone at home and totally off limits.

“Welcome to my ranch,” he said with a smile. “Come inside, and I’ll have someone bring in your things while I show you around.”

“Thanks,” she said, slipping her hand out of his and falling into step beside him. “You have a beautiful home. It looks very big already, even without adding a wing to make it larger.”

“It’s home—a haven for me. I wanted a larger bedroom suite, something in a contemporary style, and there are three more large suites in the new wing. I wanted an entertainment room, an exercise room and a casual living area—so I’ll have all that in the new wing, too.”

“It’s a huge place for one man.”

He smiled. “I have a staff to take care of it and relatives on Mom’s side of the family. They’re scattered across the country, and she likes to have them here during Christmas—they’ll fill both wings. I have three half brothers who visit and one of them, Nate, is married with a baby girl. Cade and Gabe—heaven knows if and when they’ll marry. I have friends who come to fish or hunt or for a party or just to visit. I don’t intend to rattle around alone. Would your family fill the space?”

Her eyes widened. “We could fill a lot of the bedrooms. Growing up, we always had kids sleeping on air mattresses and sofas because of the company we brought home.”

He saw her looking at the heavy crystal-and-brass chandelier hanging over the circular entryway filled with potted palms. There were also oil paintings on the walls. The entryway ceiling was two stories high, and on both sides of the hallway the rooms were open, with Corinthian columns instead of walls on the side facing the circular hallway.

“I have an office you can use on the second floor. It’s next to your suite.” He motioned toward a sweeping staircase with iron railings.

On the second floor he directed her down a wide hallway. They passed a bedroom and then stepped into a living area. “This suite will be yours. If you need anything, just let me know.” He saw amusement curve her mouth slightly. Tempting lips that looked soft and enticing.

Mildly exasperated that she stirred unexpected feelings in him, he shifted his thoughts to the present. “What’s amusing you?” he asked.

“How could I possibly want anything in all this luxury?” she asked. “You’ve seen my office.”

“Yes, I have. I suspect you didn’t do the decor for it.”

She smiled, and a warm feeling filled him. Her smile was contagious, as inviting as sunshine. “No, there is no decor in my office. Very plain vanilla, and we have buckets for rainy days.”

“You should have enough money from my check to fix the roof.”

“Probably, unless things come up that are more urgent.”

Surprised, he glanced at her, realizing again that he didn’t have any acquaintances like her. Neither his friends nor his family would put a charity project over repairing a leaky roof. She was a marvelous interior decorator, but he couldn’t fathom her views of the world, her preferences. Again, he wondered how long this career would last for her. She would discover the reality of human nature and return to her old career. She would change, he had no doubts, but until then, her rosy view fascinated and confused him.

Hot chemistry or not, she was definitely not his type, and he knew with absolute certainty he wasn’t hers. He needed to stop thinking about her lips.

“You have an adjoining bedroom and bath, and if you’ll come with me, next door is the office.”

She laughed softly. “It’s bigger and better equipped, and far nicer than mine at the nonprofit. I might not go home.” He saw the twinkle in her eyes and smiled at her.

“Nice office or not, I suspect you’ll be ready to go when the time comes. Some who have a city background don’t like the ranch after a few days. Or sooner—it’s too quiet and isolated for them. Wear boots or take care when you’re outside—we have rattlesnakes.”

He waved his hand. “You have four computers with extra-large monitors, a copy machine, scanner, fax, a laptop, an iPad, a drawing board. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“I think that covers what I might need, and I brought my own iPad.” She turned to face him. “Blake, I want to look at the rooms we’re talking about so I have an idea what I’ll be dealing with. I’ve hired two talented people. When I unpack I’ll give you their cards and a brochure about their agencies. Right now, they’ll work out of New York, but they’ll fly out here as we get to the later stages. That will mean they will need to stay nearby—”

“They can stay right here. There is plenty of room in this house and there are two guest houses. If you need or want anything, just tell me, or if I’m not here, tell Wendell.”

A man knocked lightly on the door. He wore a black shirt, jeans and Western boots as he entered with her carry-on and a small bag.

“Perfect timing, Wendell. Sierra, this is Wendell Strong, who keeps the house running. Wendell, meet Ms. Benson, our decorator for the new wing.”

After they exchanged greetings, Wendell set down her things. As he did, Blake added, “Wendell does a lot of jobs—butler and valet, but basically he’s my house manager. With the exception of the cook, he manages my house staff and the gardener. His wife, Etta, is my cook.”

“I’m glad to meet you, and thank you, Wendell, for getting my bags,” Sierra said, smiling at him as he nodded and left.

“Have dinner here with me tonight,” Blake said. “Etta has cooked all afternoon, so I hope when the time comes, you’re hungry. I thought you might want to settle in now and catch your breath after the flight and drive. If you’ll come down about six, we can have a drink and relax a bit before dinner. After dinner I’ll show you the new wing.”

“Sounds good, Blake,” she replied. “One other thing—we have a big picnic at home Saturday, so I’m flying back to Kansas City on Friday afternoon.”

“Sure. I’ll take care of the flight arrangements for you.” He walked to the door and managed not to turn around and take one last look.

* * *

As Sierra unpacked her few belongings, she couldn’t keep from comparing the ranch house to her condo, which was large enough to be comfortable for her, but not too big, and she thought about the home where she grew up with her five siblings.

Her family’s two-story house had been large enough for her big family, kid friendly and nothing fancy. Always a place any of them could bring their friends, their house was usually filled with company. Many meals had included twelve to fifteen around their table.

Now, because of her work with Brigmore, she interacted daily with people who needed help, and helping them seemed so much more important than jobs like this one for Blake. They were good people who had had misfortune—illness or just bad luck. He was cynical, yet ironically, his money would be such a help. Most people would appreciate the help, and use it to make their lives better, something Blake didn’t seem to believe.

She needed to get this job done and get back to Kansas City. She was attracted to Blake to a degree she had never been attracted to another man before. He hadn’t done one thing to cause the attraction other than be himself, but she knew he felt it as much as she did.

His handsome looks and sexy appeal took her breath. While he seemed laid-back and easygoing, his air of supreme confidence was so strong it was almost tangible. He was sure of himself, accustomed to getting what he wanted, and it showed in his attitude, his demeanor and his walk. His assurance was obvious when he entered a room.

To her relief, he had been impersonal, businesslike, since her arrival. She hoped that didn’t change. She appreciated him not flirting or trying to charm her. She hoped she could stay businesslike, too.

Yes, she’d agreed to dinner tonight, but after this getting-to-know you session, she hoped to spend as little time around him as possible. When she thought of the enormous check he had given her to get her to take this job, a staggering amount, she had to wonder what was behind that offer. Why had he wanted her that badly? She might have once been good at interior decorating, but so were others.

Feeling suspicious about his motives, she hoped he had paid that much for purely business reasons. She couldn’t keep from thinking about the CEO she’d worked for previously. She had been an executive ready to move up when he had propositioned her, promising to make her a vice president if she would become his mistress. She hadn’t seen that coming from him and he had held no sexual appeal.

His startling offer had shaken her judgment in men and angered her. Unlike with her CEO, a physical attraction had existed between her and Blake from the first second they had met.

She would have dinner with him tonight, get the layout of the new wing and find out what he wanted and then, hopefully, he would go on about his business. He didn’t look the type to hover.

She showered and changed, dressing in a skirt, a matching red silk shirt and high-heeled pumps. She tied her hair behind her head with another silk scarf and went downstairs to meet him at six.

As she walked down the curving stairs, she saw him stop at the foot to wait. And watch her.

His dark gaze made her tingle. Taking him in at a glance, she smiled at him. He had changed, too. He wore jeans, boots and a different short-sleeve shirt that emphasized his dark, handsome looks.

“You don’t look as if you’ve traveled most of the day. You look as fresh as the proverbial daisy,” he said.

“Traveling in your private jet and a limo was not difficult or tiring. Both were about as comfortable as one can get,” she said, falling into step beside him.

“Want to look around a little, or wait until later?” he asked.

“Now’s fine so I’ll have some idea where things are located and what kind of house you have.”

“Let’s go to the formal living area. It’s rarely used, but I felt I needed it, and I know my mother would have been unhappy if we didn’t have it.”

“Does she entertain here?”

“Never on her own, but she’s been hostess for me a few times. More in the past, when I first moved out here. This is it,” he said, and she walked through double doors into a room with a marble floor, elegant furniture and chairs upholstered in deep blue antique satin and brocade. Ornate, gilt mirrors and original oils of landscapes hung on the walls. The vaulted ceiling was two stories high, and floor-to-ceiling glass comprised a wall of windows overlooking the front drive.

“This is beautiful, Blake.”

“Thanks. The formal dining room adjoins this room,” he said, motioning toward more wide double doors that were open. They entered a room with a large ornate crystal chandelier centered over a gleaming fruitwood dining table that could easily seat two dozen people.

Silver candelabra sat on a buffet with a sterling tea set. The stone fireplace and hearth were flanked by paintings of hunting scenes.

“This is another beautiful room.”

“This one has been used more than that front room. I seem to have more dinner parties, although most of them are casual, the patio and backyard type. Much easier for everyone, and the food is still Etta’s cooking.”

“I think the cooking is what everyone remembers,” she said.

They moved through a study, a library filled with books that he had not read, and she laughed with him over his plans to read them someday. He showed her a downstairs bedroom that had more ancient, beautiful furniture—old-fashioned, heavy pieces, hand carved and made of mahogany, including a four-poster bed.

“This is absolutely gorgeous, Blake.”

“I think it’s time for a drink, and later we can continue the tour. I have three more bedrooms on this floor, an office on the ground floor and another smaller one adjoining my bedroom upstairs. Let’s go to the sitting room across the back. There’s a bar and it’s more comfortable.”

She walked beside him into a room filled with light thanks to more floor-to-ceiling glass. It overlooked a patio, a garden and a kidney-shaped swimming pool of crystal blue water with a waterfall.

When he crossed to the bar, she scooted onto a stool across the counter from him.

“This is quite a contrast to your Dallas life,” she said, gazing outside and seeing unending fields beyond his fenced yard.

“I love this place, and I need the ranch life. You’ve switched from New York City to Kansas City—still cities, but that’s a switch.”

“It’s quieter, and I love my work now far more than what I was doing.”

“I don’t see how you can. You could have opened your own design firm, but now all your energy goes to people who won’t thank you for it. You’ll see. These people you help will just want more help again—no one really changes. This,” he said, motioning to the expanse of his ranch home, “is where you can do something that will really last and be appreciated. You seem to have deep beliefs about how good people are—I’m sorry to say, you’ll be disillusioned eventually.”

“Blake, you’re a cynical man. Look for the goodness in people. Believe in it, and you’ll find it.”

He smiled at her indulgently.

“You’re looking at me as if you’re going to pat me on the head and try to set me straight on what people are really like.”

“That’s a thought.” He laughed.