Книга - Breaking Bailey’s Rules

Breaking Bailey's Rules
Brenda Jackson


In New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s novel, a Westmoreland learns that rules are meant to be broken!Rule number one for Bailey Westmoreland: Never fall for a man who would take her away from her tight-knit family’s Colorado home. So why is she following rancher Walker Rafferty all the way to Alaska? Bailey tells herself she owes the sexy loner an apology, and once she gets there, it’s only right to stay and help him when he’s injured…isn’t it? Before long, Bailey realizes home might be where you make it—if Walker is ready to take all she has to offer.









Why was she feeling such a strong attraction to Walker?


This wasn’t usually how it worked with her and men. Most of the time she thought of them as a nuisance, not an attraction.

“You okay?”

The truck had slowed down for traffic again and she took a quick glance over at him, then wished she hadn’t when she saw he was gazing at her with those gorgeous dark eyes. “Yes. Why would you think not?”

“You shivered just now.”

He had to have been watching her mighty close to have known that. “Just felt a little chill.”

“Then maybe I should turn up the heat.”

Turn up the heat?

She was feeling hot enough already!

* * *

Breaking Bailey’s Rules is part of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s Westmorelands series—A family bound by loyalty … and love!


Breaking

Bailey’s Rules

Brenda Jackson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


BRENDA JACKSON is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and traveling.

Email Brenda at authorbrendajackson@gmail.com (mailto:authorbrendajackson@gmail.com) or visit her on her website at www.brendajackson.net (http://www.brendajackson.net).


To the man who will always and forever be the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

Pleasant words are a honeycomb. Sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.

—Proverbs 16:24


Contents

Cover (#ub02ea5b8-1161-5874-b3fa-ae71e393949b)

Introduction (#u6adc4083-a9c9-57b3-a326-433f6f886bd3)

Title Page (#uf033670b-86b7-5188-b676-d58e6c6299f0)

About the Author (#uaa12c01d-999b-58c3-a204-bde169e80870)

Dedication (#u26ed23f3-2d25-5ee3-9c3e-3587daf6a3a5)

Prologue (#ub6139fdf-9356-5bea-ba8d-5acb0616d1b7)

One (#u8a831429-ac99-561b-b596-23582513edb3)

Two (#u373e893e-1fc3-5f16-a708-1b65428a296f)

Three (#ufd5f1991-4c1a-5155-83fb-b1d7043d33a2)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

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Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#ulink_e8e4ffc1-5859-5fb0-a88b-e0bb5d1c60f1)

Hugh Coker closed his folder and looked up at the five pairs of eyes staring at him.

“So there you have it. I met with this private investigator, Rico Claiborne, and he’s convinced that you are descendants of someone named Raphel Westmoreland. I read through his report and although his claims sound pretty far-fetched, I can’t discount the photographs I’ve seen. Bart, every one of your sons could be a twin to one of those Westmorelands. The resemblance is that strong. I have the photographs here for you to look at.”

“I don’t want to see any photographs, Hugh,” Bart Outlaw said gruffly, getting out of his chair. “Just because this family might look like us doesn’t mean they are related to us. We are Outlaws, not Westmorelands. And I’m not buying that story about a train wreck over sixty years ago where some dying woman gave her baby to my grandmother. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He turned to his four sons. “Outlaw Freight Lines is a multimillion-dollar company and people will claim a connection to us just to get what we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

Garth Outlaw leaned back in his chair. “Forgive me if I missed something, Dad, but didn’t Hugh say the Westmorelands are pretty darn wealthy in their own right? I think all of us have heard of Blue Ridge Land Management. They are a Fortune 500 company. I don’t know about the rest of you, but Thorn Westmoreland can claim me as a cousin anytime.”

Bart frowned. “So what if they run a successful company and one of them is a celebrity?” he said in a cutting tone. “We don’t have to go looking for any new relatives.”

Maverick, the youngest of Bart’s sons, chuckled. “I believe they came looking for us, Dad.”

Bart’s frown deepened. “Doesn’t matter.” He glanced at Hugh. “Send a nice letter letting them know we aren’t buying their story and don’t want to be bothered again. That should take care of it.” Expecting his orders to be obeyed, Bart walked out of the conference room, closing the door behind him.

Sloan Outlaw stared at the closed door. “Are we going to do what he says?”

“Do we ever?” his brother Cash asked, grinning while watching Hugh put the papers back in his briefcase.

“Leave that folder, Hugh,” Garth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think the old man forgot he’s no longer running things. He retired a few months ago, or did I imagine it?”

Sloan stood. “No, you didn’t imagine it. He retired but only after the board threatened to oust him. What’s he’s doing here anyway? Who invited him?”

“No one. It’s Wednesday. He takes Charm to lunch on Wednesdays” was Maverick’s response.

Garth’s brow bunched. “And where is Charm? Why didn’t she attend this meeting?”

“Said she had something more important to do,” Sloan said of their sister.

“What?”

“Go shopping.”

Cash chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me. So what are we going to do Garth? The decision is yours, not the old man’s.”

Garth threw a couple of paperclips on the table. “I never mentioned it, but I was mistaken for one of those Westmorelands once.”

Maverick leaned across the table. “You were? When?”

“Last year, while I was in Rome. A young woman, a very beautiful young woman, called out to me. She thought I was someone named Riley Westmoreland.”

“I can see why she thought that,” Hugh said. “Take a look at this.” He opened the folder he’d placed on the conference room table earlier and flipped through until he came to one photograph in particular. He pulled it out and placed it in the center of the table. “This is Riley Westmoreland.”

“Damn,” chorused around the table, before a shocked silence ensued.

“Take a look at the others. Pretty strong genes. Like I told Bart, all of you have a twin somewhere in that family,” Hugh said. “It’s—”

“Weird,” Cash said, shaking his head.

“Pretty damn uncanny,” Sloan added. “Makes the Westmorelands’ claims believable.”

“So what if we are related to these Westmorelands? What’s the big deal?” Maverick asked.

“None that I can see,” Sloan said.

“Then, why does the old man have a problem with it?”

“Dad’s just distrustful by nature,” Cash answered Maverick, as he continued to stare at the photographs.

“He fathered five sons and a daughter from six different women. If you ask me, he was too damn trusting.”

“Maybe he learned his lesson, considering that some of our mothers—not calling any names—turned out to be gold diggers,” Sloan said, chuckling.

Hugh shook his head. It always amazed him how well Bart’s offspring got along, considering they all had different mothers. Bart had managed to get full custody of each of them before their second birthdays and he’d raised them together.

Except for Charm. She hadn’t shown up until the age of fifteen. Her mother was the one woman Bart hadn’t married, but the only one he had truly loved.

“As your lawyer, what do you want me to do?” Hugh asked. “Send that letter like Bart suggested?”

Garth met Hugh’s gaze. “No. I believe in using more diplomacy than that. I think what has Dad so suspicious is the timing, especially with Jess running for senator,” he said of their brother. “And you all know how much Dad wants that to happen. His dream has been for one of us to enter politics. What if this is some sort of scheme to ruin that?”

Garth stood and stretched out the kinks from his body. “Just to be on the safe side, I’ll send Walker to check out these Westmorelands. We can trust him, and he’s a good judge of character.”

“But will he go?” Sloan asked. “Other than visiting us here in Fairbanks, I doubt if Walker’s been off his ranch in close to ten years.”

Garth drew in a deep breath and said, “He’ll go if I ask him.”


One (#ulink_419609d6-f95e-56c2-91e2-9df53c3de81f)

Two weeks later

“Why are they sending their representative instead of meeting with us themselves?”

Dillon Westmoreland glanced across the room at his cousin Bailey. He’d figured she would be the one with questions. He had called a family meeting of his six brothers and eight cousins to apprise them of the phone call he’d received yesterday. The only person missing from this meeting was his youngest brother, Bane, who was on a special assignment somewhere with the navy SEALs. “I presume the reason they are sending someone outside their family is to play it safe, Bailey. In a way, I understand them doing so. They have no proof that what we’re claiming is the truth.”

“But why would we claim them as relatives if they aren’t?” Bailey persisted. “When our cousin James contacted you a few years ago about our relationship with them, I don’t recall you questioning him.”

Dillon chuckled. “Only because James didn’t give me a chance to question anything. He showed up one day at our Blue Ridge office with his sons and nephews in tow and said that we were kin. I couldn’t deny a thing when looking into Dare’s face, which looked just like mine.”

“Um, maybe we should have tried that approach.” Bailey tapped a finger to her chin. “Just showed up and surprised them.”

“Rico didn’t think that was a good idea. From his research, it seems the Outlaws are a pretty close-knit family who don’t invite outsiders into their fold,” Megan Westmoreland Claiborne said. Rico, her husband, was the private investigator hired by the Westmorelands to find members of their extended family.

“And I agreed with Rico,” Dillon said. “Claiming kinship is something some people don’t do easily. We’re dealing with relatives whose last name is Outlaw. They had no inkling of a Westmoreland connection until Rico dropped the bomb on them. If the shoe was on the other foot and someone showed up claiming they were related to me, I would be cautious, as well.”

“Well, I don’t like it,” Bailey said, meeting the gazes of her siblings and cousins.

“We’ve picked up on that, Bay,” Ramsey Westmoreland, her eldest brother said, pulling her ear. He then switched his gaze to Dillon. “So when is their representative coming?”

“His name is Walker Rafferty and he’s arriving tomorrow. I thought that would be perfect since everyone is home for Aidan and Jillian’s wedding this weekend. The Atlanta Westmorelands will be here as well, so he’ll get to meet them, too.”

“What does he intend to find out about us?” Bailey wanted to know.

“That you, Bane, Adrian and Aidan are no longer hellions,” Stern Westmoreland said, grinning.

“Go to—” Bailey stopped and glanced at everyone staring at her. “Go wash your face, Stern.”

“Stop trying to provoke her, Stern,” Dillon said, shaking his head. “Rafferty probably wants to get to know us so he can report back to them that we’re an okay group of people. Don’t take things personally. Like I said, it’s just a precaution on their part.” He paused as if an idea had come to him. “And, Bailey?”

“Yes?”

“Since you’re the most apprehensive about Mr. Rafferty’s visit, I want you to pick him up from the airport.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. And I expect you to make a good impression. Remember, you’ll be representing the entire family.”

“Bailey representing the entire family? The thought of that doesn’t bother you, Dil?” Canyon Westmoreland said, laughing. “We don’t want to scare him off. Hell, she might go ballistic on him if he rubs her the wrong way.”

“Cut it out, Canyon. Bailey knows how to handle herself and she will make a good impression,” Dillon said, ignoring his family’s skeptical looks. “She’ll do fine.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dillon.”

“You got it, Bailey.”

* * *

Bailey knows how to handle herself and she will make a good impression.

Dillon’s words rang through Bailey’s head as she rushed into the airport fifteen minutes late. And she couldn’t blame her delay on traffic.

That morning she had been called into her boss’s office to be told she’d been promoted to features editor. That called for a celebration and she’d rushed back to her desk to call her best friend, Josette Carter. Of course Josette had insisted they meet for lunch. And now Bailey was late doing the one thing Dillon had trusted her to do.

But she refused to accept that she was off to a bad start...even if she was. If Mr. Rafferty’s plane was late it would not hurt her feelings one iota. In fact today she would consider it a blessing.

She headed toward baggage claim and paused to look at an overhead monitor. Mr. Rafferty’s plane had been on time. Just her luck.

Upon reaching the luggage carousel for his plane, she glanced around. She had no idea what the man looked like. She had tried looking him up online last night and couldn’t find him. Josette had suggested Bailey make a sign with his name, but Bailey had rolled her eyes at the idea. Now, considering how crowded the airport was, she acknowledged that might have been a good idea.

Bailey checked out the people retrieving their luggage. She figured the man was probably in his late forties or early fifties. The potbellied, fiftysomething-year-old man who kept glancing at his watch with an anxious expression must be her guy. She was moving in his direction when a deep husky rumble stopped her in her tracks.

“I believe you’re looking for me, Miss Westmoreland.”

Bailey turned and her gaze connected with a man who filled her vision. He was tall, but that wasn’t the reason her brain cells had suddenly turned to mush; she was used to tall men. Her brothers and cousins were tall. It was the man’s features. Too handsome for words. She quickly surmised it had to be his eyes that had made her speechless. They were so dark they appeared a midnight blue. Just staring into them made her pulse quicken to a degree that ignited shivers in her stomach.

And then there was his skin tone—a smooth mahogany. He had a firm jaw and a pair of luscious-looking lips. His hair was cut low and gave him a rugged, sexy look.

Gathering her wits, she said, “And you are?”

He held his hand out to her. “Walker Rafferty.”

She accepted his handshake. It was firm, filled with authority. Those things she expected. What she didn’t expect was the feeling of warmth combined with a jolt of energy that surged through her body. She quickly released his hand.

“Welcome to Denver, Mr. Rafferty.”

“Thanks. Walker will do.”

She tried to keep her pulse from being affected by the throaty sound of his voice. “All right, Walker. And I’m—”

“Bailey Westmoreland. I know. I recognized you from Facebook.”

“Really? I looked you up but didn’t find a page for you.”

“You wouldn’t. I’m probably one of the few who don’t indulge.”

She couldn’t help wondering what else he didn’t—or did—indulge in, but decided to keep her curiosity to herself. “If you have all your bags, we can go. I’m parked right outside the terminal.”

“Just lead the way.”

She did and he moved into step beside her. He was certainly not what she’d expected. And her attraction to him wasn’t expected, either. She usually preferred men who were clean shaven, but there was something about Walker Rafferty’s neatly trimmed beard that appealed to her.

“So you’re friends with the Outlaws?” she asked as they continued walking.

“Yes. Garth Outlaw and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. I’m told by my parents our friendship goes back to the time we were both in diapers.”

“Really? And how long ago was that?”

“Close to thirty-five years ago.”

She nodded. That meant he was eight years older than she was. Or seven, since she had a birthday coming up in a few months.

“You look just like your picture.”

She glanced at him. “What picture?”

“The one on Facebook.”

She changed it often enough to keep it current. “It’s supposed to work that way,” she said, leading him through the exit doors. And because she couldn’t hold back her thoughts she said, “So you’re here to spy on us.”

He stopped walking, causing her to stop, as well. “No. I’m here to get to know you.”

“Same thing.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

She frowned. “Either way, you plan to report back to the Outlaws about us? Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Her frown deepened. “They certainly sound like a suspicious bunch.”

“They are. But seeing you in person makes a believer out of me.”

She lifted a brow. “Why?”

“You favor Charm, Garth’s sister.”

Bailey nodded. “How old is Charm?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Then, you’re mistaken. I’m three years older so that means she favors me.” Bailey then resumed walking.

* * *

Walker Rafferty kept a tight grip on the handle of his luggage while following Bailey Westmoreland to the parking lot. She was a very attractive woman. He’d known Bailey was a beauty because of her picture. But he hadn’t expected that beauty to affect him with such mind-boggling intensity. It had been a while—years—since he’d been so aware of a woman. And her scent didn’t help. It had such an alluring effect.

“So do you live in Fairbanks?”

He looked at her as they continued walking. Her cocoa-colored face was perfect—all of her features, including a full pair of lips, were holding his attention. The long brown hair that hung around her shoulders made her eyes appear a dark chocolate. “No, I live on Kodiak Island. It’s an hour away from Fairbanks by air.”

She bunched her forehead. “Kodiak Island? Never heard of the place.”

He smiled. “Most people haven’t, although it’s the second largest island in the United States. Anchorage and Fairbanks immediately come to mind when one thinks of Alaska. But Kodiak Island is way prettier than the two of them put together. Only thing is, we have more bears living there than people.”

He could tell by her expression that she thought he was teasing. “Trust me, I’m serious,” he added.

She nodded, but he had a feeling she didn’t believe him. “How do people get off the island?”

“The majority of them use the ferry, but air is most convenient for me. I have a small plane.”

She lifted a brow. “You do?”

“Yes.” There was no need to tell her that he’d learned to fly in the marines. Or that Garth had learned right along with him. What he’d told her earlier was true. He and Garth Outlaw had been friends since their diaper days and had not only gone to school together but had also attended the University of Alaska before doing a stint in the marines. The one thing Garth hadn’t done with Walker was remain with him in California after they left the military. And Garth had tried his hardest to talk Walker out of staying. Too bad he hadn’t listened.

He’d been back in Alaska close to ten years now and he swore he would never leave again. Only Garth could get him off the island this close to November, his son’s birthday month. Had his son lived he would be celebrating his eleventh birthday. Thinking of Connor sent a sharp pain through Walker, one he always endured this time of year.

He kept walking beside Bailey, tossing looks her way. Not only did she have striking features but she had a nice body, as well. She looked pretty damn good in her jeans, boots and short suede jacket.

Deciding to remove his focus from her, he switched it to the weather. Compared to Alaska this time of year, Denver was nice. Too damn nice. He hoped the week here didn’t spoil him.

“Does it snow here often?” he asked, to keep the conversation going. It had gotten quiet. Too quiet. And he was afraid his mind would dwell on just how pretty she was.

“Yes, usually a lot this time of year but our worst days are in February. That’s when practically everything shuts down. But I bet it doesn’t snow here as much as in Alaska.”

He chuckled. “You’d bet right. We have long, extremely cold days. You get used to being snowed in more so than not. If you’re smart, you’ll prepare for it because an abundance of snow is something you can count on.”

“So what do you do on Kodiak Island?” she asked.

They had reached her truck. The vehicle suited her. Although she was definitely feminine, she didn’t come across as the prissy type. He had a feeling Bailey Westmoreland could handle just about anything, including this powerful-looking full-size pickup. He was of the mind that there was something innately sensuous about a woman who drove a truck. Especially a woman who was strikingly sexy when she got out of it.

Knowing she was waiting for an answer to his question, he said, “I own a livestock ranch there. Hemlock Row.”

“A cattle ranch?”

“No, I raise bison. They can hold their own against a bear.”

“I’ve eaten buffalo a few times. It’s good.”

“Any bison from Hemlock Row is the best,” he said, and didn’t care if it sounded as if he was bragging. He had every right to. His family had been in the cattle business for years, but killer bears had almost made them lose everything they had. After his parents’ deaths he’d refused to sell and allow Hemlock Row to become a hunting lodge or a commercial fishing farm.

“Well, you’ll just have to send me some to try.”

“Maybe you’ll get to visit the area one day.”

“Doubt it. I seldom leave Denver,” she said, releasing the lock on the truck door for him.

“Why?”

“Everything I need is right here. I’ve visited relatives in North Carolina, Montana and Atlanta on occasion, and I’ve traveled to the Middle East to visit my cousin Delaney once.”

“She’s the one who’s married to a sheikh, right?” he asked, opening the truck door.

“Jamal was a sheikh. Now he’s king of Tehran. Evidently you’ve done research on the Westmorelands, so why the need to visit us?”

He held her gaze over the top of the truck. “You have a problem with me being here, Bailey?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Probably not, but I still want to know how you feel about it.”

He watched her nibble her bottom lip as if considering what he’d said. He couldn’t help studying the shape of her mouth and thinking she definitely had a luscious pair of lips.

“I guess it bothers me that the Outlaws think we’d claim them as relatives if they weren’t,” she said, her words breaking into his thoughts.

“You have to understand their position. To them, the story of some woman giving up her child before dying after a train wreck sounds pretty far out there.”

“As far-out as it might sound, that’s what happened. Besides, all it would take is a DNA test to prove whether or not we’re related. That should be easy enough.”

“Personally, I don’t think that’s the issue. I’ve seen photographs of your brothers and cousins and so have the Outlaws. The resemblance can’t be denied. The Westmorelands and the Outlaws favor too much for you not to be kin.”

“Then, what is the issue and why are you here? If the Outlaws want to acknowledge we’re related but prefer not to have anything to do with us, that’s fine.”

Walker liked her knack for speaking what she thought. “Not all of them feel that way, Bailey. Only Bart.”

“Who’s Bart?” she asked, breaking eye contact with him to get into the truck.

“Bart’s their father,” he answered, getting into the truck, as well. “Bart’s father would have been the baby that was supposedly given to his grandmother, Amelia Outlaw.”

“And Amelia never told any of them the truth about what happened?” Bailey asked, snapping her seat belt around her waist. A waist he couldn’t help notice was pretty small. He could probably wrap his arms around it twice.

He snapped his seat belt on, thinking the truck smelled like her. “Evidently she didn’t tell anyone.”

“I wonder why?”

“She wouldn’t be the first person to keep an adoption a secret, if that’s what actually happened. From what Rico Claiborne said, Clarice knew she was dying and gave her baby to Amelia, who had lost her husband in that same wreck. She probably wanted to put all that behind her and start fresh with her adopted son.”

After she maneuvered out of the parking lot, he decided to change the subject. “So what do you do?”

She glanced over at him. “Don’t you know?”

“It wasn’t on Facebook.”

She chuckled. “I don’t put everything online. And to answer your question, I work for my sister-in-law’s magazine, Simply Irresistible. Ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say that I have. What kind of magazine is it?”

“One for today’s up-and-coming woman. We have articles on health, beauty, fashion and, of course, men.”

He held her gaze when the truck came to a stop. “Why ‘of course’ on men?”

“Because men are so interesting.”

“Are we?”

“Not really. But since some women think so, we have numerous articles about your gender.”

He figured she wanted him to ask what some of those articles were, but he didn’t intend to get caught in that trap. Instead, he asked, “What do you do at the magazine?”

“As of today I’m a features editor. I got promoted.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” An easy smile touched her lips, lips that were nice to look at and would probably taste just as nice.

“I find that odd,” he said, deciding to stay focused on their conversation and not her lips.

The vehicle slowed due to traffic and she looked at him. “What do you find odd?”

“That your family owns a billion-dollar company yet you don’t work there.”

* * *

Bailey broke eye contact with Walker. Was he in probing mode? Were her answers going to be scrutinized and reported back to the Outlaws?

Walker’s questions confirmed what she’d told Dillon. Those Outlaws were too paranoid for her taste. As far as she was concerned, kin or no kin, they had crossed the line by sending Walker Rafferty here.

But for now she would do as Dillon had asked and tolerate the man’s presence...and his questions. “There’s really nothing odd about it. There’s no law that says I have to work at my family’s corporation. Besides, I have rules.”

“Rules?”

“Yes,” she said, bringing the truck to a stop for a school bus. She looked over at him. “I’m the youngest in the family and while growing up, my brothers and cousins felt it was their God-given right to stick their noses in my business. A little too much to suit me. They only got worse the older I got. I put up with it at home and couldn’t imagine being around them at the office, too.”

“So you’re not working at your family’s company because you need space?”

“That’s not the only reason,” she informed him before he got any ideas about her and her family not getting along. “I’m not working at Blue Ridge Land Management because I chose a career that had nothing to do with real estate. Although I have my MBA, I also have a degree in journalism, so I work at Simply Irresistible.”

She was getting a little annoyed that she felt the need to explain anything to him. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions about my family and I’m certain Dillon will be happy to answer them. We have nothing to hide.”

“You’re assuming that I think you do.”

“I’m not assuming anything, Walker.”

He didn’t say anything while she resumed driving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw he’d settled comfortably in the seat and was gazing out the window. “First time in Denver?” she asked.

“Yes. Nice-looking city.”

“I think so.” She wished he didn’t smell so good. The scent of his aftershave was way too nice.

“Earlier you mentioned rules, Bailey.”

“What about them?” She figured most people had some sort of rules they lived by. However, she would be the first to admit that others were probably not as strict about abiding by theirs as she was about abiding by hers. “I’ve discovered it’s best to have rules about what I will do and not do. One of my rules is not to answer a lot of questions, no matter who’s asking. I put that rule in place because of my brother Zane. He’s always been too nosy when it came to me and he has the tendency to take being overprotective to another level.”

“Sounds like a typical big brother.”

“There’s nothing typical about Zane, trust me. He just likes being a pain. Because of him, I had to adopt that rule.”

“Name another rule.”

“Never get serious about anyone who doesn’t love Westmoreland Country as much as I do.”

“Westmoreland Country?”

“It’s the name the locals gave the area where my family lives. It’s beautiful and I don’t plan to leave. Ever.”

“So in other words, the man you marry has to want to live there, too. In Westmoreland Country?”

“Yes, if such a man exists, which I doubt.” Deciding to move the conversation off herself and back onto the Outlaws, she asked, “So how many Outlaws are there?”

“Their father is Bart and he was an only child. He has five sons—Garth, Jess, Cash, Sloan and Maverick—and one daughter, Charm.”

“I understand they own a freight company.”

“They do.”

“All of them work there?”

“Yes. Bart wouldn’t have it any other way. He retired last year and Garth is running things now.”

“Well, you’re in luck with my brother Aidan getting married this weekend. You’ll see more Westmorelands than you probably counted on.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Bailey was tempted to look at him but she kept her eyes on the road. She had to add sexy to his list of attributes, no matter how much she preferred not to. Josette would be the first to say it was only fair to give a deserving man his just rewards. However, Bailey hated that she found him so attractive. But what woman wouldn’t? Manly, handsome and sexy was a hot combination that could play havoc on any woman’s brain.

“So were you born in Alaska or are you a transplant?” she asked him out of curiosity.

“I was born in Alaska on the same property I own. My grandfather arrived in Fairbanks as a military man in the late 1940s. When his time in the military ended he stayed and purchased over a hundred thousand acres for his bride, a woman who could trace her family back to Alaska when it was owned by Russia. What about your family?”

A smile touched Bailey’s lips. “I know for certain I can’t trace my grandmother’s family back to when Alaska was owned by Russia, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It wasn’t and she knew it, but couldn’t resist teasing him. It evidently amused him if the deep chuckle that rumbled from his throat was anything to go by. The sound made her nipples tingle and a shiver race through her stomach. If the sound of his chuckle could do this to her, what would his touch do?

She shook her head, forcing such thoughts from her mind. She had just met the man. Why was she feeling such a strong attraction to him? This wasn’t usually how it worked with her and men. Most of the time she thought of them as a nuisance, not an attraction.

“You okay?”

The truck had slowed down for traffic again and she took a quick look over at him. She wished she hadn’t when she met those gorgeous dark eyes. “Yes, why would you think I’m not?”

“You shivered just now.”

He had to have been watching her mighty close to have known that. “Just a little chill.”

“Then, maybe I should turn up the heat.”

Turn up the heat? She immediately jumped to conclusions until he reached out toward her console and turned the knob. Oh, he meant that heat. Within seconds, a blast of warmth flowed through the truck’s vents.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thanks,” she said, barely able to think. She needed to get a grip. Deciding to go back to their conversation by answering his earlier question, she said, “As far as my family goes, we’re still trying to find out everything we can about my great-grandfather Raphel. We didn’t even know he had a twin brother until the Atlanta Westmorelands showed up to claim us. Then Dillon began digging into Raphel’s past, which led him to Wyoming. Over the years we’ve put most of the puzzle pieces together, which is how we found out about the Outlaws.”

Bailey was glad when she finally saw the huge marker ahead. She brought the truck to a stop and looked over at him. “Welcome to Westmoreland Country, Walker Rafferty.”


Two (#ulink_5b9b4e9f-3129-5508-9546-62e331004424)

An hour later Walker stood at the windows in the guest bedroom he’d been given in Dillon Westmoreland’s home. As far as Walker could see, there was land, land and more land. Then there were the mountains, a very large valley and a huge lake that ran through most of the property. From what he’d seen so far, Westmoreland Country was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as his spread in Kodiak. Almost, but not quite. As far as he was concerned, there was no place as breathtaking as Hemlock Row, his family home.

He’d heard the love and pride in Bailey’s voice when she talked about her home. He fully understood because he felt the same way about his home. Thirteen years ago a woman had come between him and his love for Hemlock Row, but never again. Now he worked twice as hard every day on his ranch to make up for the years he’d lost. Years when he should have been there, working alongside his father instead of thinking he could fit into a world he had no business in.

But then no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t change the past. Wishing he’d never met Kalyn wouldn’t do because if he hadn’t met her, there never would have been Connor. And regardless of everything, especially all the lies and deceit, his son had been the one person who’d made Walker’s life complete.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Walker moved away from the window to unpack. Earlier, he’d met Dillon and Ramsey, along with their wives, siblings and cousins. From his own research, Walker knew the Denver Westmorelands’ story. It was heartbreaking yet heartwarming. They had experienced sorrows and successes. Both Dillon’s and Ramsey’s parents had been killed in a plane crash close to twenty years ago, leaving Dillon, who was the eldest, and Ramsey, the second eldest, to care for their thirteen siblings and cousins.

Dillon’s parents had had seven sons—Dillon, Micah, Jason, Riley, Canyon, Stern and Brisbane. Ramsey’s parents had eight children, of which there were five sons—Ramsey, Zane, Derringer and the twins, Aidan and Adrian—and three daughters—Megan, Gemma and Bailey. The satisfying ending to the story was that Dillon and Ramsey had somehow managed to keep all their siblings and cousins together and raise them to be respectable and law-abiding adults. Of course, that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any hiccups along the way. Walker’s research had unveiled several. It seemed the twins—Adrian and Aidan—along with Bailey and Bane, the youngest of the bunch, had been a handful while growing up. But they’d all made something of themselves.

There were definitely a lot of Westmorelands here in Denver, with more on the way to attend a wedding this weekend. The ones he’d met so far were friendly enough. The ease with which they’d welcomed him into their group was pretty amazing, considering they were well aware of the reason he was here. The only one who seemed bothered by his visit was Bailey.

Bailey.

Okay, he could admit he’d been attracted to her from the first. He’d seen her when she’d entered the baggage claim area, walking fast, that mass of curly brown hair slinging around her shoulders with every step she took. She’d had a determined look on her face, which had made her appear adorable. And the way the overhead lights hit her features had only highlighted what a gorgeous young woman she was.

He rubbed his hand down his face. The key word was young. But in this case, age didn’t matter because Kalyn had taught him a lesson he would never forget when it came to women, of any age. So why had he suddenly begun feeling restless and edgy? And why was he remembering how long it had been since he’d been with a woman?

Trying to dismiss that question from his mind, Walker refocused on the reason he was here...as a favor to Garth. He would find out what his best friend needed to know and return to Kodiak. Already he’d concluded that the Westmorelands were more friendly and outgoing than their Alaskan cousins. The Outlaws tended to be on the reserved side, although Walker would be the first to say they had loosened up since Bart retired.

Walker knew Garth better than anyone else did, and although Garth wasn’t as suspicious as Bart, Garth had an empire to protect. An empire that Garth’s grandfather had worked hard to build and that the Outlaws had come close to losing last year because Bart had made a bad business decision.

Still, Walker had known the Outlaws long enough to know they didn’t take anything at face value, which was why he was here. And so far the one thing he knew for certain was that the Westmorelands and the Outlaws were related. The physical resemblance was too astounding for them not to be. Whether or not the Westmorelands had an ulterior motive to claiming the Outlaws as relatives was yet to be seen.

Personally, he doubted it, especially after talking to Megan Westmoreland Claiborne. He’d heard the deep emotion in her voice when she’d told him of her family’s quest to find as many family members as they could once they’d known Raphel Westmoreland hadn’t been an only child as they’d assumed. She was certain there were even more Westmoreland relatives out there, other than the Outlaws, since they had recently discovered that Raphel and Reginald had an older brother by a different mother.

In Walker’s estimation, the search initiated by the Westmorelands to find relatives had been a sincere and heartfelt effort to locate family. It had nothing to do with elbowing in on the Outlaws’ wealth or sabotaging Jess’s chances of becoming an Alaskan senator, as Bart assumed.

Walker moved away from the window the exact moment his cell phone rang. He frowned when he saw the caller was none other than Bart Outlaw. Why would the old man be calling him?

“Yes, Bart?”

“So what have you found out, son?”

Walker almost laughed out loud. Son? He shook his head. The only time Bart was extranice was when someone had something he wanted. And Walker knew Bart wanted information. Unfortunately, Bart wouldn’t like what Walker had to say, since Bart hated being wrong.

“Found out about what, Bart?” Walker asked, deciding to be elusive. He definitely wouldn’t tell Bart anything before talking to Garth.

He heard the grumble in Bart’s voice when he said, “You know what, Walker. I’m well aware of the reason Garth sent you to Denver. I hope you’ve found out something to discredit them.”

Walker lifted a brow. “Discredit them?”

“Yes. The last thing the Outlaws need are people popping up claiming to be relatives and accusing us of being who we aren’t.”

“By that you mean saying you’re Westmorelands instead of Outlaws?”

“Yes. We are Outlaws. My grandfather was Noah Outlaw. It’s his blood that’s running through my veins and no other man’s. I want you to remember that, Walker, and I want you to do whatever you have to do to make sure I’m right.”

Walker shook his head at the absurdity of what Bart was saying. “How am I to do that, Bart?”

“Find a way and keep this between us. There’s no reason to mention anything to Garth.” Then he hung up.

Frowning, Walker held the cell phone in his hand for a minute. That was just like Bart. He gave an order and expected it to be followed. No questions asked. Shaking his head, Walker placed a call to Garth, who picked up on the second ring.

“Yes, Walker? How are things going?”

“Your father just called. We might have a problem.”

* * *

“I heard Walker Rafferty is a looker.”

Bailey lifted the coffee cup to her lips as Josette slid into the seat across from her. Sharing breakfast was something they did at least two to three times a week, their schedules permitting. Josette was a freelance auditor whose major client was the hospital where Bailey’s sister Megan worked as a doctor of anesthesiology.

“I take it you saw Megan this morning,” Bailey said, wishing she could refute what Josette had heard. Unfortunately, she couldn’t because it was true. Walker was a looker. Sinfully so.

“Yes, I had an early appointment at the hospital this morning and ran into your sister. She was excited that the Outlaws had reached out to your family.”

Bailey rolled her eyes. “Sending someone instead of coming yourself is not what I consider reaching out. One of the Outlaws should have come themselves. Sending someone else is so tacky.”

“Yes, but they could have ignored the situation altogether. Some people get touchy when others claim them as family. You never know the reason behind it.”

Since Bailey and Josette were pretty much regulars at McKays, the waitress slid a cup of coffee in front of Josette, who smiled up at the woman. “Thanks, Amanda.” After taking a sip, Josette turned her attention back to Bailey. “So tell me about him.”

“Not much to tell. He looks okay. Seems nice enough.”

“That’s all you know about him, that he looks okay and seems nice enough?”

“Is there something else I should know?”

“Yes. Is he single? Married? Divorced? Have any children? What does he do for a living? Does he still live with his mother?”

Bailey smiled. “I didn’t ask his marital status but can only assume he’s single because he wasn’t wearing a ring. As far as what he does for a living, he’s a rancher. I do know that much. He raises bison.”

“I take it he wasn’t too talkative.”

Bailey took another sip of coffee as she thought of the time she’d spent with Walker yesterday. “He was okay. We had a polite conversation.”

“Polite?” Josette asked with a chuckle. “You?”

Bailey grinned. She could see why Josette found that amusing. Bailey wasn’t known for being polite. “I promised Dillon I’d be on my best behavior even if it killed me.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting with the reporter taking my old job at nine.”

“Okay, see you later.”

After Bailey walked out of the restaurant, she couldn’t help but think about Josette’s questions. There was a lot Bailey didn’t know about Walker.

She’d remedy that when she saw him later.

* * *

Walker was standing in front of Dillon’s barn when Bailey’s truck pulled up. Moments later he watched as she got out of the vehicle. Although he tried to ignore it, he felt a deep flutter in the pit of his stomach at seeing her again. Today, like yesterday, he was very much aware of how sensuous she looked. Being attracted to her shouldn’t be anything he couldn’t handle. So why was he having a hard time doing so?

Why had he awakened that morning looking for her at the breakfast table, assuming she lived with Dillon and his wife, since she didn’t have her own place? Later, he’d found out from her brother Ramsey that Bailey floated, living with whichever of her brothers, sisters or cousins best fit her current situation. But now that most of her relatives had married, she stayed in her sister Gemma’s house since Gemma and her husband, Callum, had their primary home in Australia.

He continued to watch her, somewhat surprised by his own actions. He wasn’t usually the type to waste his time ogling a woman. But with Bailey it couldn’t be helped. There was something about her that demanded a man’s attention regardless of whether he wanted to give it or not. Her brothers and cousins would probably skin him alive if they knew just where his thoughts were going right now.

The cold weather didn’t seem to bother her as she moved away from the truck without putting on her coat. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, a long pencil skirt that complimented her curves and a pair of black leather boots, she looked ready to walk the runway.

Squinting in the sun, he watched as she walked around the truck, checking out each tire. She flipped her hair away from her shoulders, and he imagined running his fingers through every strand before urging her body closer to his. There was no doubt in his mind he would love to sample the feel of their bodies pressed together. Then he would go for her mouth and—

“Walker? What are you doing here?”

Glad she had interrupted his thoughts, he replied, “I’m an invited guest, remember?”

She frowned as she approached him. “Invited? Not the way I remember it. But what I’m asking is why are you out here at the barn by yourself? In the cold? Where is everyone? And why didn’t you say something when I got out of the truck to let me know you were over here?”

He leaned back against the barn’s door. “Evening, Bailey. You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

She glared at him. “Do I?”

“Yes, especially for someone who just told me yesterday that one of her rules is not answering a lot of questions, no matter who’s asking. What if I told you that I happen to have that same rule?”

She lifted an angry chin. Was it his imagination or was she even prettier when she was mad? “I have a right to ask you anything I want,” she said.

He shook his head. “I beg to differ. However, out of courtesy and since nothing you’ve asked has crossed any lines, I’ll answer. The reason I’m outside by the barn is because I just returned from riding with Ramsey and Zane. They both left for home and I wasn’t ready to go in just yet.”

“Zane and Ramsey actually left you out here alone?”

“Yes, you sound surprised that they would. It seems there are some members of your family who trust me. I guess your brothers figure their horses and sheep are safe with me,” he said, holding her gaze.

“I didn’t insinuate—”

“Excuse me, but I didn’t finish answering all your questions,” he interrupted her, and had to keep from grinning when she shut her mouth tightly. That same mouth he’d envisioned kissing earlier. “The reason I didn’t say anything when you got out of the truck just now was because you seemed preoccupied with checking out your tires. Is there a problem?”

“One needs air. But when I looked up from my tires you were staring at me. Why?”

She had to know he was attracted to her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be? She was beautiful, desirable—alluring. And he didn’t think the attraction was one-sided. A man knew when a woman was interested.

But he didn’t want her interest, nor did he want to be interested in her. He refused to tell her that the reason he hadn’t said anything was because he’d been too mesmerized to do so.

“I was thinking again about how much you and Charm favor one another. You’ll see for yourself when you meet her.”

“If I meet her.”

“Don’t sound so doubtful. I’m sure the two of you will eventually meet.”

“Don’t sound so sure of that, Walker.”

He liked the sound of his name from her lips. Refusing to go tit for tat with her, he changed the subject. “So how was your day at work, Bailey?”

* * *

Stubbornly, Bailey told herself he really didn’t give a damn how her day went. So why was he asking? Why did she find him as annoying as he was handsome? And why, when she’d looked up to see him staring at her, had she felt something she’d never felt before?

There was something so startling about his eyes that her reaction had been physical. For a second, she’d imagined the stroke of his fingers in her hair, the whisper of his heated breath across her lips, the feel of his body pressed hard against hers.

Why was her imagination running wild? She barely knew this man. Her family barely knew him. Yet they had welcomed him to Westmoreland Country without thinking things through. At least, that was her opinion. Was her family so desperate to find more relatives that they had let their guard down? She recalled days when a stranger on their land meant an alarm went out to everyone. Back then, they’d never known when someone from social services would show up for one of their surprise visits.

Knowing Walker was waiting for her to answer, she finally said, “It went well. It was my first day as a features editor and I think I handled things okay. You might even say I did an outstanding job today.”

He chuckled. “No lack of confidence on your part, I see.”

“None whatsoever.” It was dusk and being outside with him, standing by the barn in the shadows, seemed way too intimate for her peace of mind. But there was something she needed to know, something that had been on her mind ever since Josette had brought it up that morning.

Not being one to beat around the bush when it came to things she really wanted to know, she asked, “Are you married, Walker?”

* * *

Walker stared at her, trying to fight the feel of air being sucked from his lungs. Where the hell had that question come from? Regardless, the answer should have been easy enough to give, especially since he hadn’t been truly married even when he’d thought he had been. How could there be a real marriage when one of the parties took betrayal to a whole new level?

Silence reigned. Bailey had to be wondering why he hadn’t answered. He shook off the unpleasant memories. “No. I’m not married.” And then he decided to add, “Nor do I have a girlfriend. Any reason you want to know?”

She shrugged those beautiful shoulders that should be wearing a coat. “No. Just curious. You aren’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“But that doesn’t mean anything these days.”

“You’re right. Wearing a wedding ring doesn’t mean anything.”

He could tell by her frown that she hadn’t expected him to agree with her. “So you’re one of those types.”

“And what type is that?”

“A man who has no respect for marriage or what it stands for.”

Walker couldn’t force back the wave of anger that suddenly overtook him. If only she knew how wrong she was. “You don’t know me. And since you don’t, I suggest you keep your damn assumptions to yourself.”

Then, with clenched teeth, he walked off.


Three (#ulink_2cec1161-9205-523f-b682-083d6151a5a5)

The next morning Bailey sat behind the huge desk in her new office and sipped a cup of her favorite coffee. Yesterday had been her move-in day and she had pretty much stayed out of the way while the maintenance crew had shifted all the electronic equipment from her old office into this one. Now everything was in order, including her new desk, on top of which sat a beautiful plant from Ramsey and Chloe.

She couldn’t help thinking, You’ve come a long way, baby. And only she and her family truly knew just how far she’d come.

She’d had some rebellious years and she would be the first to admit a little revolutionary spirit still lived within her. She was better at containing it these days. But she still liked rousing her family every once in a while.

Growing up as the youngest Westmoreland had had its perks as well as its downfalls. Over the past few years, most of her family members had shifted their attention away from her and focused on their spouses and children. She adored the women and men her cousins, brothers and sisters had married. And when she was around her family she felt loved.

She thought of her cousin Riley’s new baby, who had been born last year. And there were still more babies on the way. A whole new generation of Denver Westmorelands. That realization had hit her like a ton of bricks when she’d held Ramsey and Chloe’s daughter in her arms. Her first niece, Susan, named after Bailey’s mother.

Bailey had looked down at Susan and prayed that her niece never suffered the pain of losing both parents like Bailey had. The agony and grief were something no one should have to go through. Bailey hadn’t handled the pain well. None of the Westmorelands had, but it had affected her, the twins—Adrian and Aidan—and Bane the worst because they’d been so young.

Bailey cringed when she thought of some of the things she’d done, all the filthy words that had come out of her mouth. She appreciated her family, especially Dillon and Ramsey, for not giving up on her. Dillon had even taken on the State of Colorado when social services had wanted to take her, Bane and the twins away and put them in foster care.

He had hired an attorney to fight to keep them even with all the trouble the four of them were causing around town. Because somehow he’d understood. Somehow he’d known their despicable behavior was driven by the pain of losing their parents and that deep down they weren’t bad kids.

“Little hell-raisers” was what the good people of Denver used to call them. She knew it was a reputation the four of them were now trying to live down, although it wasn’t always easy. Take last night, for instance.

Walker Rafferty had almost pushed her into reacting like her old self. She hated men who messed around after marriage. As far as she was concerned, the ones who messed around before marriage weren’t any better but at least they didn’t have a wedding ring on their finger.

Pushing away from her desk, she moved to the window. Downtown Denver was beautiful, especially today, seeing it from her new office. The buildings were tall, massive. As far as she was concerned, no other city had more magnificent skyscrapers. But even the breathtaking view couldn’t make her forget Walker’s callous remark.

Just like Bailey would never forget the pain and torment Josette had suffered while being married to Myles. Against their parents’ wishes the two had married right out of high school, thinking love would conquer all as long as they were together. Within a year, Josette found out Myles was involved with another woman. To add insult to injury, he’d blamed Josette for his deceit, saying that it was because she’d decided to take night classes to get a college degree that she’d come home one night to find him in their bed with another woman. A woman who happened to be living in the apartment across the hall.

That was why Bailey had been so mad about Walker’s insinuations that wearing a wedding ring meant nothing to a man. She’d been so angry that she’d only hung around Dillon’s place long enough to hug his sons, Denver and Dade, before leaving.

It was obvious that Walker was just as mad at her as she was with him, but she didn’t have a clue as to why. Yes, maybe her reaction had been a bit too strong, but seriously, she didn’t give a royal damn. She called things the way she saw them. If he hadn’t meant what he said, he should not have said it.

The beeping of the phone on her desk got her attention and she quickly crossed the room to answer it. It was an interoffice call from Lucia. Ramsey’s wife, Chloe, was the magazine’s founder and CEO but it was Chloe’s best friend Lucia who ran things as editor in chief. Lucia was married to Bailey’s brother Derringer. Although it was nice having her sisters-in-law as first and second in command at the magazine, it also put a lot of pressure on Bailey to prove that whatever accolades and achievements she received were earned and well deserved and not the result of favoritism. Just because Chloe and Lucia were Westmorelands, that didn’t mean Bailey deserved preferential treatment of any kind. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yes, Lucia?”

“Hi, Bailey. Chloe stopped by and wants to see you.”

Bailey raised an arched brow. What could have brought Chloe out of Westmoreland Country so early today? It wasn’t even nine in the morning yet. After marrying Ramsey, Chloe had pretty much decided to be a sheep rancher’s wife and rarely came into the office these days.

Bailey slid into her jacket. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

* * *

Deciding to take the longest route back to Dillon’s place, Walker rode the horse and enjoyed the beauty of the countryside. There was a lot about Westmoreland Country that reminded him of Kodiak Island, minus the extremely cold weather, of course. Although the weather here was cold, it was nothing compared to the harsh winters he endured. It was the middle of October and back home the amount of snowfall was quadruple what they had here.

But the differences in the weather weren’t what was bothering him today. What bothered him today had everything to do with the dreams he’d had last night. Dreams of Bailey. And that talk they’d had by the barn.

Even now the memory of their conversation made him angry. She’d had no right to assume anything about him. No right at all. She didn’t know him. Had no idea the hell he’d been through or the pain he’d suffered, and was still suffering, after almost ten years. Nor did she have any idea what he’d lost.

By the lake, he slowed the horse and took a deep breath. The mountain air was cleansing; he wished it could cleanse his soul, as well. After bringing the horse to a stop he dismounted and stared at the valley below. Awesome was the only word he could use to describe what he saw.

And even though he was mad as hell with Bailey, a part of him thought she was pretty awesome, as well. What other way was there to describe a woman who could rile his anger and still star in his erotic dreams? He had awakened several times during the night with an erection. It had been years since that had happened. Not since he’d returned to Kodiak from California.

He had basically thrown himself into working the ranch, first out of guilt for not being there when his father had needed him, and then as a therapeutic way to deal with the loss of Connor. There were some days he’d worked from sunup to sundown. And on those nights when his body had needed a woman it had been for pleasure and nothing else. Passionate but emotionless sex had become his way of life when it came to relationships, but even that had been years ago.

Walker no longer yearned for the type of marriage his parents and grandparents had shared. He was convinced those kinds of unions didn’t exist anymore. If they did, they were the exception and not the norm. He would, however, admit to noticing the ease with which the Westmoreland men openly adored their wives, wearing their hearts on their sleeves as if they were a band of honor. So, okay, Walker would include the Westmorelands in the exceptions.

He remounted the horse to head back. Thoughts of Bailey hadn’t ended with his dreams. Even with the light of day, she’d invaded his thoughts. That wasn’t good.

He had told Dillon he would leave the Monday after this weekend’s wedding, but now he figured it would be best if he returned to Kodiak right after the wedding. The farther, and the sooner, he got away from Bailey, the better.

He’d learned enough about the Westmorelands and would tell Garth what he thought, regardless of Bart’s feelings on the matter. If Bart thought he could pressure Walker to do otherwise, then he was mistaken.

Walker had nothing to lose since he’d lost it all already.

* * *

Bailey walked into Lucia’s office to find her sisters-in-law chatting and enjoying cups of coffee. Not for the first time Bailey thought her brothers Ramsey and Derringer had truly lucked out when they’d married these two. Besides being beautiful, both were classy women who could be admired for their accomplishments. Real role models. The two had met at a college in Florida and had remained best friends since. The idea that they’d married brothers was remarkable, especially since the brothers were as different as day and night. Ramsey was older and had always been the responsible type. Derringer had earned a reputation as a womanizer of the third degree. Personally, Bailey had figured he would never settle down and marry. Now not only was he happily married but he was also the father of a precious little boy named Ringo. He had stepped into the role of family man as if he’d been made for it.

Chloe glanced up, saw Bailey standing in the doorway, smiled and crossed the room to give her a hug. “Bay, how are you? You rushed in and out of Dillon’s place last night. We barely spoke, let alone held a conversation. How’s day two in your new position?”

Bailey returned her sister-in-law’s smile. “Great. I’m ready to roll my sleeves up and bring in those feature stories that will grow our readership.”

Chloe beamed. “That’s good to hear. I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion and let you know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks, Chloe.” Bailey couldn’t help but be touched by Chloe’s words. She had begun working for the company as a part-timer in between her classes at the university. She had liked it so much that she’d changed her major to journalism and hadn’t regretted doing so. It was Chloe, a proponent of higher education, who had encouraged her to also get her MBA.

“So what brings you out of Westmoreland Country so early?”

“I’m meeting Pam in a little while. She wants me to sit in on several interviews she’s hosting today. She’s hiring a director for her school.”

Bailey nodded. Dillon’s wife, Pam, was a former actress and had opened an acting school in her hometown of Gamble, Wyoming, a few years ago. The success of that school had led her to open a second one in Denver.

Taking her by the arm, Chloe said, “Come sit with us a minute. Share a cup of coffee and tell me how you like your office.”

“I love it! Thanks to the both of you. The view is simply stunning.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Lucia said, smiling. “That used to be my office and I regretted giving it up. But I have to admit I have a fantastic view in here, as well.”

“Yes, you certainly do,” Bailey said, agreeing, glancing around the room that was double the size of her office. When her gaze landed on Lucia’s computer screen, Bailey went still.

“Recognize him?” Lucia asked, adjusting the image of a face until it took up the full screen.

Bailey sucked in a deep breath as she felt the rapid thud of her pulse. Even if the clean-shaven face had thrown her for a quick second, the gorgeous eyes staring at her were a dead giveaway, not to mention that smile.

“It’s Walker Rafferty,” she said. He looked years younger, yet his features, sharp and sculpted, were just as handsome.

Chloe nodded, coming to stand beside her. “Yes, that’s him. At the time these photos were taken most people knew him as Ty Reklaw, an up-and-coming heartthrob in Hollywood.”

Shocked, Bailey looked back at the computer screen. Walker used to be an actor? No way. The man barely said anything and seemed to keep to himself, although she knew he’d formed a pretty solid friendship with her brothers and male cousins.

What had Chloe just said? He’d been an up-and-coming heartthrob in Hollywood? Bailey studied his image. Yes, she could definitely believe that. His grin was irresistibly devastating, to the point where she felt goose bumps form on her arms.

She glanced back at Chloe and Lucia. “He’s an actor?”

“He used to be, around ten years ago and he had quite a following. But then Ty Reklaw left Hollywood and never looked back,” Chloe said, sitting back down in her chair.

A frown bunched Bailey’s forehead. “Reklaw? As in Reklaw, Texas?”

Lucia chuckled as she poured Bailey a cup of coffee. “I doubt it. Probably Reklaw as in the name Walker spelled backward. You know how movie stars are when they don’t want to use their real names.”

Bailey’s gaze narrowed as an idea popped into her head. “Are you sure Walker Rafferty is his real name?”

“Yes. I asked Dillon.”

Bailey’s brow raised. “Dillon knew who he was?”

“Only after Pam told him. She remembered Walker from the time she was in Hollywood but she doubted he remembered her since their paths never crossed.”

Bailey nodded. Yes, she could imagine any woman remembering Walker. “So he used to be an actor with a promising future. Why did he leave?”

Lucia took a sip of her coffee. “Pam said everyone assumed it was because of the death of his wife and son. They were killed in a car accident.”

“Oh, my God,” Bailey said. “How awful.”

“Yes, and according to Pam it was quite obvious whenever he and his wife were seen together that he loved and adored her. His son had celebrated his first birthday just days before the accident occurred,” Lucia said. “The loss was probably too great and he never recovered from it.”

“I can understand that.” Having lost both her parents in a tragic death a part of her could feel his pain. She reflected on their conversation last night when she’d asked if he was married. He’d said no and hadn’t told her he was a widower.

She then remembered the rest of their conversation, the one that had left them both angry. From his comment one might have thought the sanctity of marriage didn’t mean anything to him. Or had she only assumed that was what he’d meant? She shuddered at the thought.

“Bailey? Are you okay?”

She looked up at the two women staring at her. “Not sure. I might have offended Walker big-time last night.”

“Why? What happened?” Lucia asked with a look that said she wished she didn’t have to ask.

Bailey shrugged. “I might have jumped to conclusions about him and his attitude about marriage and said something based on my assumptions. How was I to know he’d lost his wife? I guess he said what he did because the thought of marrying again is painful for him.”

“Probably since, according to Pam, he was a dedicated husband and father, even with his rising fame.”

Bailey drew in a deep breath, feeling completely awful. When would she learn to stop jumping to conclusions about everything? Dillon and Ramsey had definitely warned her enough about doing that. For some reason she was quick to automatically assume the worst about people.

“Is that why you rushed in and out of Dillon and Pam’s place last night? Because you and Walker had words?” Chloe asked.

“Yes. At the time I was equally mad with him. You know how I feel about men who mess around. Before marriage or after marriage.”

Chloe nodded. “Yes, Bailey. I think we all know. You gave your poor brothers and cousins hell about the number of girlfriends they had.”

“Well, I’m just glad they came to their senses and settled down and married.” Bailey began pacing and nervously nibbled her bottom lip. Moments later she stopped and looked at the two women. “I need to apologize to him.”

“Yes, you do,” both Lucia and Chloe agreed simultaneously.

Bailey took a sip of her coffee as a question came to mind. “If Walker was so hot in Hollywood, then why don’t I remember him?”

Lucia smiled. “If I recall, ten years ago you were too busy hanging with Bane and getting into all kinds of trouble. So I’m not surprised you don’t know who was hot and who was not. I admit that although I remember him, he looks different now. Still handsome but more mature and definitely a lot more rugged. The beard he wears now makes him nearly unrecognizable. I would not have recalled who he was if Pam hadn’t mentioned it. Of course when she did I couldn’t wait to look him up this morning.”

“Was he in several movies?” Bailey asked. She intended to find any movies he’d appeared in as soon as she left work.

“No, just two. One was a Matthew Birmingham flick, where Walker played opposite actress Carmen Atkins, as her brother. That was his very first. He was hot and his acting was great,” Chloe said, smiling. “According to Pam, although he didn’t get an award nomination, there are those who thought he should have. But what he did get was a lot of attention from women and other directors in Hollywood. It didn’t take him long to land another role in a movie directed by Clint Eastwood. A Western. He’d just finished filming when his wife and son were killed. I don’t think he hung around for the premiere. He left for Alaska and never returned.”

Bailey didn’t say anything. She was thinking about how to get back in Walker’s good graces. “I’ll apologize when I see him tonight.”

“Good luck,” Chloe said, chuckling. “When I left this morning, Thorn and his brothers and cousins had arrived for the wedding and you know what that means.”





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