The Marriage Bargain. Susan Fox
mortals.
Hallie Corbett stopped in front of the desk. She held a wad of folded papers in her hand—legal ones, from the look of them—and gripped them as if she thought they’d get away from her. It was plain she wouldn’t sit down unless invited.
Her voice was soft, but clear and distinct.
“I came to ask if you’re still interested in the parcel of land on the back corner of the Four C’s.”
Wes was instantly alert. That parcel of land, the site of the original Lansing homestead, had been stolen by the Corbetts in a land swindle and fought over for generations. Blood had been shed on both sides in the ownership dispute. Any number of Corbetts had sworn to never allow a Lansing to reclaim it.
“Is Hank offering it?” Wes was deliberately noncommittal. What interested him now was Hallie’s reaction. Had the quick shadow that crossed her face been a show of panic?
“No, sir.”
Though he was watching her face closely for a clue about why she’d come here and brought up the subject of the homestead, he saw nothing. Her features were now as blank as uncarved stone.
“Since Hank owns Four C’s and he’s not offering it, you and I’ve got nothing to talk about.”
Hallie’s gaze dropped from his. She unfolded the packet of papers. He sensed that the reason her slim, competent fingers were taking care to flatten the creases in the documents was because she was giving herself time to recover from his rebuff. It was also a delay.
She finished with the task and looked over at him. Her voice was the same clear, even and distinct tone that was evidence of how closely she guarded herself.
“You should have all the facts about ownership before you make that decision. I need to know if you want the parcel.”
It was a small showdown. A test of wills. He felt a spark of satisfaction. Hallie Corbett had a backbone behind all that mystery and guarded caution.
“Yes, Ms. Corbett, I’m interested in the parcel. Have a seat and tell me why you think you and I have anything to talk about.”
Hallie handed over the papers. She sat down in the chair and braced her elbows on the chair arms. She laced her fingers together and regarded him steadily as he sat down on the swivel chair behind his desk.
“If you’d read the highlighted section…”
Hallie let her voice trail off. She couldn’t bring herself to say more. The shame she felt was overwhelming suddenly. Why on earth had she ever thought Wes Lansing would marry her? He wasn’t the sort of man who’d ever consider marriage to someone like her, not even to get something he wanted. Unless he valued that land as much as she valued Four C’s, he’d find her situation laughable.
And when he laughed, then perhaps ridiculed her, it would be over. She’d withstand whatever he said or did, then make an escape that would be something only a little less dramatic than running away like a scalded dog. She’d go to Four C’s, pack her things, then indulge in a last farewell.
It could be over by nightfall. She’d get a room in town until Hank’s funeral, then be on her way to a new life far from the shame and pain and loss that were the only legacy she could ever claim here. Her eyes stung and she clenched her teeth together so hard that they hurt, but she’d claw her eyes out before she’d show tears to a Lansing or anyone else.
She focused on Wes’s face as he read the section, waiting for the moment he realized what the clause meant and what she was here to suggest.
While she watched his gaze sweep left to right and drop down line by line, she witnessed his stern expression evolve into harshness. She saw the hint of anger in the way the hard line of his mouth tightened. She’d figured him for a second read through, but his dark gaze shot up and arrowed into hers.
“What the hell kind of Will is this?”
She didn’t answer because she didn’t know what to say. “I’d like to inherit Four C’s, but I can’t meet the conditions. I thought you should be informed. In case—”
She cut herself off. She couldn’t bring herself to actually make the proposal. Suddenly she wanted to be anyplace but here. For once, the shame she was about to earn for herself seemed far more traumatic than losing the Four C’s.
“I hope you’ll pardon me, Mr. Lansing.” She got up and stepped to the desk. “You were right. We have nothing to discuss.”
She put out a hand for the papers. “I’ll be on my way.”
That last came out on a voiceless gust. Emotions she could barely contain came roaring up and it took everything she had to appear indifferent. “If I might have the papers?”
Wes’s gaze was riveted to hers, making it impossible to break contact. He ignored her request. “Do you trust Hank to honor this Will?”
Hallie withdrew her hand. He was angry, but it wasn’t directed at her. She kept silent as he went on.
“What will you do if he makes another one?”
Hallie fought to keep her gaze locked with his. “I’ve lived with him all my life, Mr. Lansing. I’m aware of the risk.”
“But you came here anyway.”
She could tell nothing from his harsh expression, but she didn’t detect scorn. And she was a master at that.
“I want Four C’s.”
“You’re crazy to think he’ll let you have it.”
The words sent a wave of shame through her. Even Hank Corbett’s enemies knew how little he thought of her.
“You came here for…what?”
A long moment dragged by as she debated what to say. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him outright that she’d come here with a marriage arrangement in mind.
“I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
Wes’s hard gaze was unrelenting. “How sick is he?”
“Terminal. He could die tonight or he could live a month. They moved him into Intensive Care late this morning.”
“D’you think your cousin would sell me the homestead?”
The question stung. Of course he’d pass over her and go straight to Candice. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about her cousin. Candice was beautiful, and she’d soon be a fabulously wealthy heiress. The right man might be able to control her and Hallie sensed that if Wes Lansing couldn’t do it, it couldn’t be done. He might not be as immune to her cousin as she’d thought.
“She doesn’t care about Four C’s. I expect her to sell it at the first opportunity. You should be able to deal with the new owner.”
“But you can’t swear she’ll sell out.”
“You could buy the parcel from her.”
His stern mouth twisted. “With strings attached.”
“Then you understand Candice.”
Wes tossed the Will onto the desk and looked away from her. She started to reach for the papers, but his growl froze her midreach. “Leave ’em.”
“I need to be on my way,” she said quietly. It wouldn’t matter if the copy stayed here. The important thing now was to escape. Wes Lansing was simmering, and she had no desire to watch a boil over.
He glared across the desk at her. “So it comes down to a choice between you and Candice.” It wasn’t a question. His glare deepened as he nodded toward her chair. “Sit down. You started this, and by God, you’ll see it through.”
His harshness chilled her. Some faint stir of spirit made her resist. She’d allowed her pride to be trampled by her family all her life. She’d choked on the shreds so she could come