One Night, Two Heirs. Maureen Child
back as Joe pulled away.
He stood there for a long minute, just soaking up the feeling of being home again. Only three days ago, he’d been with his men in the middle of a firefight. Today, he was on a street corner of a quiet little town, watching traffic roll by.
And he wasn’t sure which of those two places he most belonged.
Rick had always wanted to be a marine. And the truth was, since his parents were both gone now, there wasn’t much to hold him in Royal. Yeah, there was the duty he felt to the Pruitt dynasty. The ranch had been in the family for more than a hundred and fifty years. But there were caretakers out there, a foreman and his wife, the housekeeper who lived in and saw to it that the Pruitt ranch went on without him. Just as Royal had.
He narrowed his gaze to cut the glare of the summer sun and quickly scanned his surroundings. Things didn’t change in small-town America, he told himself and was inwardly glad of it. He liked knowing that he could go away for a couple years and come home to find the place just as he’d left it.
The only thing that had changed, he admitted silently, was him.
Tugging the brim of his Stetson lower over his eyes, Rick shook his head and turned back toward the Texas Cattleman’s Club. If there was one place for a man to go to catch up on the news about town, it was the TCC. Besides, he was looking forward to the cool quiet. The chance to do a little thinking—not to mention the appeal of a cold glass of beer and a steak sandwich in the dining room.
“Bradford Price, you’re living in the Stone Age.” Sadie Price glared up at her older brother and wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to notice he wasn’t denying her accusation. In fact, he looked proud.
“If that’s your roundabout way of telling me that I’m a man of tradition, then I’m all right with that.” Brad leaned down and kept his voice low. “And I don’t appreciate my baby sister coming in here to read me the riot act because I don’t agree with her.”
Sadie silently counted to ten. Then twenty. Then she gave up. Her temper wouldn’t be cooled by counting, or the multiplication tables or even with thoughts of her twin daughters’ smiling faces. She had been pushed too far and, like a true Price, she was fighting mad.
The main room of the Texas Cattleman’s Club might not have been the perfect spot for a throw-down, she thought, but it was too late to back off now. Even if she had wanted to.
“I didn’t move back to Royal from Houston just to sit at home and do nothing, Brad.”
In fact, now that she was home again, she intended to make a name for herself. To get involved. And the TCC was just the place to make a start. She had been thinking about this all night and the fact that her older brother was making things hard on her wouldn’t change her mind.
“Fine,” he said, throwing both hands high. “Do something. Anything. Just not here.”
“Women are a part of the club’s world now, Brad,” she insisted, glancing over at the two elderly men sitting in brown leather club chairs. At her quick look, they both lifted the newspapers they were hiding behind and pretended they hadn’t been watching.
Typical, Sadie thought. The men in this once-exclusive club were determined to ignore progress of any kind. Heck, they’d had to be hog-tied to get them to allow women in the club at all. And they still weren’t happy about it.
“You don’t need to remind me of that,” Brad said tightly. “Haven’t I got Abigail Langley riding me like a bull in the rodeo? That woman’s about to drive me out of my mind and I’m damned if I’m going to take it from you, too.”
She hissed in a breath. “You are the most hardheaded, ornery …”
“I’m going to be in charge around here, little sister,” he told her. “And you’d best remember that.”
Here being the Texas Cattleman’s Club, of course. Brad was planning on running for club president and if he won, Sadie knew darn well that the TCC would stay in the dark ages.
Sadie bit down on her bottom lip to keep the furious words that wanted to spill from her locked inside. Honestly, the TCC had been the bulwark of stubborn men for more than a hundred years.
Even the decor in the place reeked of testosterone. Paneled walls, dark brown leather furniture, hunting prints on the walls and a big-screen TV, the better to watch every single Texas sporting event. Until recently, women had only been allowed in the dining room or on the tennis courts. But now, thanks to Abby Langley being an honorary member—with full club privileges—due to her late husband Richard’s name and history with the club, all of that was changing. And the women in Royal were counting on the fact that now that Pandora’s box had been opened, the men in town wouldn’t be able to close it again.
But if dealing with her brother was a sign of how difficult change was going to be, Sadie knew she and the other females in town were in for a whale of a fight.
“Look,” she said, trying for her most reasonable tone—which wasn’t easy when faced with a head as hard as her brother’s—”the club is looking to build a new headquarters. I’m a landscape designer. I can help. I’ve got the name of a great architect. And I did some sketches for the new grounds that—”
“Sadie …” Brad sighed and shook his head. “Nothing’s been decided. We don’t need an architect. Or a landscape designer. Or a damn interior decorator.”
“You could at least listen to me,” she argued.
“I may have to put up with Abby Langley giving me grief, but I don’t have to listen to my baby sister,” Brad said. “Now go on home, Sadie.”
He walked away.
Just turned his back and walked off as if she didn’t matter at all. Fuming silently, Sadie thought briefly about chasing him down and giving him another piece of her mind. But that would only give the old coots like Buck Johnson and Henry Tate even more to gossip about.
Her gaze shifted to those two men, still hiding behind their newspapers as if they were completely oblivious to what was going on. Well, Sadie knew better. Those two had heard every word of her argument with her brother and by tonight, she expected that they would have repeated it dozens of times. And men said women were gossips.
Grumbling under her breath, she tucked her cream-colored leather bag beneath her arm, got a hard grip on the folder of sketches she’d brought along with her and stormed for the front door. The sound of her needle-thin heels clicked against the wood floor like a frantic heartbeat.
Disappointment and anger warred inside her. She’d really hoped that she would be able to at least count on her brother’s support. But she should have known better. Brad was like a throwback to an earlier generation. He liked his women to be pretty pieces of arm candy and he liked the club just as it was—a male bastion against the ever-encroaching idea of equality of the sexes.
“He’s a caveman,” Sadie muttered, rushing out of the dark interior of the club into the bright sunlight of a July morning in Texas.
She was still running on pure temper and her eyes were so dazzled by the brilliant light, she didn’t see the man until she crashed right into him.
One day back in his hometown and Rick Pruitt ran smack into a tornado. A tall, sleek, blond tornado with eyes as blue as the Texas sky and legs that went on forever. He’d been thinking about her only a minute or two before and now here she was. She stormed out of the Texas Cattleman’s Club in such a fury, she’d run right into him only to bounce off like a pebble skipping across the surface of a lake.
He reached out to grab her shoulders and steady her. Then she lifted those big blue eyes up to him and the look on her face said clearly that he was the last person on earth she had expected to see.
“Mornin’, Sadie,” he said softly, letting his gaze sweep over the patrician features he remembered so well. “If you’re really looking to run me over, you should maybe try it in a car. You’re