Lone Star Wedding (7 page)

“I'll tell you.”

He was so intent upon what she had to say that he put up absolutely no resistance when she opened the door and propelled him through it.

“I'll tell you,” she said again, licking her lips in a way that was provocative as hell. “When pigs fly. Watch that first step. It's a doozy.”

The door slammed so fast he barely had time to get his nose out of the way.

He stood at the top of the fire escape, gritting his teeth. Street noises carried to his ears from the other side of the
building, but not a sound came from inside Hannah's apartment.

She'd made herself extremely clear. She'd all but called him a name, for crying out loud. She was the one who'd said they were complete opposites. He should have listened. Next time he…

Swearing under his breath, Parker started down the steps. There wasn't going to be a next time. He didn't trifle with women who were waiting for a commitment. He knew all too well that commitments were made to be broken.

There absolutely, positively, wasn't going to be a next time. And that was that.

 

“Sophia's attorneys have finally responded to our last settlement offer, Ryan.” Parker held up the thick sheaf of papers that had arrived from Sophia Fortune's attorneys late yesterday afternoon.

Her lawyers were cunning, he'd give them that much. Sending something of this significance so late on a Friday insured that Ryan's attorneys couldn't retaliate until Monday. Parker had used the tactic himself.

Being on the receiving end of the maneuver was a relatively new experience. Parker planned to use the weekend to plan his strategy and set up his next move.

“What does she want now?” Ryan pushed to his feet and paced to the window in his study.

“It's carefully worded in lawyer gibberish. But it boils down to more demands, more money, assets, stocks. Actually, it even says she would like to reconcile.”

Ryan spoke with derision. “She wants to reconcile with my bank balance.”

Parker strummed his fingers on Ryan's massive mahog
any desk. “You're probably right. Either way, she wants half of everything you have.”

Ryan spun around. “I've already offered her millions. I'm willing to meet some of her demands just to be rid of her, but I won't give her half of the Double Crown and all its holdings.”

Parker kept his gaze trained on Ryan, but Ryan turned to look out the window. Technically, it was the weekend. The hundred head of cattle in the distance didn't care that it was Saturday. Neither did the ranch hands on horseback who were moving them to greener pastures. The ranch was vast, but it was so much more than dirt and grass and cattle and outbuildings. Lily was in the stables right now, checking on the filly that had been born a few weeks ago. Rosita, his housekeeper, had predicted the filly's birth right down to the day and the lily-shaped mark on its narrow head. She'd always had metaphorical dreams, but lately they'd been coming to pass with astounding accuracy. He took the birth of that filly as a good sign. Anything that kept Lily close to him was good, as far as he was concerned. He wanted his divorce behind him, so he and Lily could go forward with their lives.

Continuing to stare out the window, Ryan said, “My father would roll over in his grave if he knew anyone was trying to get half of his empire, but that isn't the reason I won't agree to Sophia's terms. He'd be angry, but he wouldn't overlook his own mistakes. God knows, he made his share of them over the years. Kingston Fortune loved this ranch. He loved my mother first and foremost. The original tract of land on which the entire Fortune empire was founded belonged to her. Together, they built this ranch acre by acre, investment by investment. Selena Fortune saw her family through loss and hardships, sometimes with little more than her own blood, sweat and tears to
carry us all through. This ranch is a legacy to her, and I will not split it up for a woman like Sophia.”

Parker's eyes had narrowed, but the rest of his features remained unchanged. If Ryan's tirade had been an act, it would have warranted a standing ovation. But it wasn't an act. The man was passionate, adamant about his holdings and his stand. Parker dealt with passionate, adamant husbands or wives every day. It wasn't his job to judge. It was his job to reason, wheedle, finagle and negotiate on their behalf. Parker Malone, of Malone, Malone & Associates
always
cut the best deal, insuring that his client retained as big a cut, as large a percentage of his or her assets as was humanly possible.

Tensions normally ran high during divorce proceedings. It had been his experience that couples whose passion had been banned from the bedroom found a new outlet through vindictiveness, anger and blame. It was Parker's job to remain focused, sharp, and assessing. It was his job to protect his clients's best interests.

“Sophia won't get half of the Double Crown, Ryan.” Parker motioned toward the packet of papers lying nearby. “This is merely a delay tactic. She wants to see you suffer. I believe she would like to see you squirm. This would have been eliminated if you had insisted she sign a prenuptial agreement prior to your marriage to her.”

Backing his words up with carefully calculated actions, Parker reached into his briefcase and pulled out the prenuptial agreement he'd advised Ryan to have Lily sign.

Out of the blue, Ryan said, “How old are you, son?”

Parker's eyes narrowed. Dammit, the question interrupted the point he was trying to make.

“I don't mean to sound condescending.”

Parker conceded with a slight nod. After all, Ryan couldn't have gotten where he was today without being
astute. If he had something to say, Parker would be stupid not to listen.

He met Ryan's level look with one of his own. “I'm thirty-one.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Parker's surprise infiltrated his carefully schooled expression. His eyebrows drew down, not in consideration of the question, but in his attempt to understand where the question had come from and where it was leading.

“I didn't think so,” Ryan said. “I've loved two women. My first wife, Janine, and Lily. I've wasted enough years on Sophia. Too many. I have the utmost faith in your capabilities, but the sooner you secure her signature on the divorce papers the better. Lily Redgrove Cassidy is my second chance at happiness. I don't intend to waste a moment of it.”

Parker began gathering his papers, his reason for paying Ryan a visit at the ranch nearly complete. Placing a legal document on Ryan's desk, Parker said, “Look over this prenuptial agreement, Ryan. As your attorney, I can't advise you strongly enough to think long and hard and then refrain from tossing it into the wastebasket.”

Ryan took one step toward his desk. Rather than looking long and hard at the document as Parker had advised, he looked long and hard at Parker. Parker reached for his briefcase, then met Ryan's gaze. “You might as well say what's on your mind.”

Ryan continued to look at Parker, breaking the silence only when he was good and ready. “You have the reputation for being the best and most shrewd divorce attorney in all of San Antonio. I can't help but wonder if you would be as shrewd and as cunning if you were to fall in love.”

“Don't worry. I'm immune.”

Ryan settled his hands on his hips. “You shouldn't
worry that you might fall in love. You should worry that you might not.”

Parker didn't know how to respond to that.

Ryan didn't seem to expect a reply. “I sensed you'd taken a fancy to Lily's daughter.”

“You sensed that?”

Ryan dismissed Parker's arched look with a quick shrug. “I happened to see the two of you in a private moment out in my garden.”

The sound Parker made involved releasing his breath through his nose at the same time he muttered a one-syllable expletive. Had everyone seen them on that garden path?

“I was interested in Hannah Cassidy.” He remembered the slam of her door. “It turns out it was a passing fancy.”

He motioned to the papers lying on Ryan's desk. “Read them carefully. There's a place for Lily's signature, and that of a notary public, at the bottom.”

Taking his briefcase in one hand, he shook Ryan's hand with the other, then strode toward the door.

The sheaf of papers made a distinctive thud in the bottom of the wastebasket about the same time Parker opened the heavy oak-paneled door.

 

“Wow.”

Raising the antique door knocker at the back entrance of the sprawling ranch house, Hannah glanced at Adrienne. “I know. The Double Crown can be intimidating.”

Adrienne nudged Hannah with one sharp elbow. “Intimidating. Are y'all crazy? My mama lives in a bigger house than this back in Atlanta. I just can't believe that somebody who runs a kitchen in a place like this wants a recipe from little, helpless ole me.”

When the door opened, Hannah was still smiling at the
notion that her best friend in the killer heels and leather miniskirt was either helpless or old. “Hi, Angie,” Hannah said.

The nineteen-year-old girl who had been hired to help Rosita with the housework wrung her hands. “I tried to reach you, but you must have already been on your way here. And now you've wasted your trip.”

“What is it?” Hannah asked.

“I'm afraid Rosita has taken to her pillows. She had another dream last night, and she's worried herself into a fit of exhaustion.”

“A nightmare?” Hannah asked.

Angie nodded her head dramatically. “A premonition.”

Hannah had heard of Rosita Perez's premonitions. In Red Rock, where Rosita had been born, she was known for her visionary dreams. Although some scoffed, Hannah's mother believed that Rosita's dreams were windows into the future. Her dreams were often metaphorical. Therefore, those windows were usually smoky and unclear.

“A premonition, really?” Adrienne asked.

Angie Sanchez eyed the strangely dressed blonde with obvious trepidation. “Do you believe in such things?” she asked suspiciously.

“Of course I do.”

That was news to Hannah.

“What?” Adrienne said, her blue eyes guileless and serene. “Didn't I ever mention that my great-aunt on my father's side was clairvoyant? I have a cousin in Savannah who claims she has the power, too, only the ghost of an old woman who was killed by Sherman's soldiers chases away most of her vibes.”

Angie and Hannah stared at Adrienne, speechless. Finally, Angie said, “You have a cousin who lives with a ghost?”

“A lot of old houses in the South are haunted. But don't worry. Cousin Edith's ghost is a lost soul, not a mean spirit.”

“Come,” Angie said. “I think you might be good for Rosita today.”

Adrienne and Hannah followed the girl into a small sitting room off the kitchen where shades were drawn against the high noon sun. Looking pale and drawn, Rosita Perez pushed herself to a sitting position. “You are Señorita Adrienne?”

“The one and only.”

Rosita's gaze made a careful sweep up and down Adrienne. “You wear shoes like that often?”

“I have a passion for heels.”

Rosita harrumphed. “You have a penchant for bunions, I think. I am sorry to bring you all this way for nothing. I was hoping the chicken-fried steak Señor Ryan had last week at your Pink Pelican would bring him out of the dark mood that plagues him while he waits for his divorce from that evil Sophia.”

“The Pink Flamingo.” Adrienne arched one blond eyebrow. “I named my restaurant The Pink Flamingo, not The Pink Pelican.”

“Ah. I knew it was a bird. There was a bird in my dream last night.”

Adrienne, Hannah and Angie all sat, as if in one motion. “Tell them about it, Señora Rosita,” Angie said. “I think they will understand.”

Rosita took a shaky breath. “It was horrible. When I woke up, I could not breathe. Ruben brought me an antacid. It is his remedy for everything.”

Hannah smiled to herself, and Adrienne said, “That sounds like a man.”

Rosita nodded in understanding. “That husband of mine
is built like a bull and is as strong as an ox, but sometimes his brain is the size of a chicken's. My dream was not heartburn. Although it filled my heart with an ache. And with fear.”

“Can you describe your dream to us?” Hannah asked, her voice soft and comforting.

Taking a shuddering breath, Rosita began. “Ever since Señora Lily has come back into Señor Ryan's life, my dreams have centered around her. I do not understand it, nor do I understand the dreams. Strange things have happened. For a time, whenever I cracked an egg, it had two yolks. A sure sign that two babies are on the way. And then little Bryan was kidnapped, and another Fortune baby was returned in his place. One night I dreamed that Señora Lily was breast-feeding a baby. Before my eyes, the child turned into a scorpion and stung her.”

The room was suddenly very quiet. Hannah didn't necessarily see the correlation between eggs with two yolks and the tragic events surrounding the kidnapping of Matthew and Claudia Fortune's child, but Rosita's dream about the scorpion bothered Hannah, for it represented danger to her mother, and possibly death.

“Is that the dream you had last night?” she asked.

Rosita shook her head. “Last night's was worse. You see, many years ago, before Señora Janine took sick with cancer, she had a favorite horse, a beautiful Arabian mare she named Madisha. It means dream. Janine spent hours on the ranch with Madisha. When Señora Janine died, Madisha stayed in her stall for seven days.
Lamentando.
”

“In mourning,” Angie translated.

Rosita nodded. “When the
bruja,
that is, witch, Sophia, became Señor Ryan's wife, she secretly ordered that Madisha be killed. My Ruben whisked Madisha away to a neighbor's ranch. This new filly of Señora Lily's is a de
scendent of Madisha, who died of old age three springs ago. Last night, in the guise of a dream, I saw Madisha again.”