Roping Ray Mccullen. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “I won’t lie to you, Ray. I am here because your father left me something.” She pulled the letter from her bag. “I had no idea he’d included me or Bobby in his will, but he did. A lawyer named Bush contacted me about the reading.”

      “Just as I thought,” Ray said, animosity dripping from every word.

      Self-preservation kicked in. “Listen, Ray, I didn’t ask for this. And I don’t think Bobby even knows yet. He and Joe didn’t get along, and Bobby’s had problems in the past, so I don’t know what to expect from him now.” She shoved the letter toward Ray. “Just read this letter your father wrote me.”

      Ray’s dark gaze latched with hers, tension stretching between them, filled with distrust.

      Her hand trembled as she waited for Ray to take the letter. When he snatched it, she finally released the breath she’d been holding, sank back in the chair and struggled to calm her nerves.

      But the sight of Ray’s big, tough masculine profile haloed by the orange-and-yellow firelight aroused feminine desires that she’d never felt. Desires that she had no right to feel for the man in front of her.

      Desires that couldn’t lead to anything.

      But something about his strong jaw, that heavy five o’clock shadow and the intensity in his eyes reminded her of Joe. Joe, the man who’d been like a father to her.

      Joe who’d sent her here to meet his sons.

      She clutched her drink glass again and sipped it. The warm scotch slid down her throat, warming her. Yet the alcohol also reminded her of Joe.

      Why had he put her in this awkward position?

      He had to have known that Ray and his brothers wouldn’t welcome her or want to share any part of their family ranch. That they would be angry, and that the truth would turn their world upside down.

      * * *

      RAY LEANED AGAINST the hearth as he studied the paper Scarlet had handed him. It appeared to be a handwritten letter to her.

      In his father’s handwriting.

      My dearest Scarlet,

      I was blessed to have sons. But I never had a daughter—until I met you.

      That first line knocked the breath from his lungs. But he forced himself to read further.

      By the time he finished, his gut was churning. These were his father’s words. His father’s sentiments.

      Betrayal splintered through him.

      Scarlet wasn’t lying. His father had loved her, had lead a life that he’d kept from his sons.

      What were Maddox and Brett going to say? They didn’t even know about Barbara...

      “I realize this is a shock to you,” Scarlet said softly. “It was to me, too.”

      Still suspicious though, Ray narrowed his eyes, determined to see the truth beneath the pretty exterior. She was dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, boots, her long blond hair natural, and she wore little makeup or jewelry.

      Not his idea of what a gold digger would look like.

      But who was to say she hadn’t conned his father into writing this when he was ill or on medication?

      He’d worked as a PI long enough to know that con artists came in all shapes and sizes, that sometimes the most charming, alluring face hid a devious side beneath.

      Scarlet had grown up in an orphanage. Wasn’t it common for children who grew up without parents or in troubled homes to have mental problems? Maybe she wanted a family so badly that she’d latched on to his father and had taken advantage of him in a weak moment and convinced him to take her in.

      He cleared his throat. He needed more information before he showed this to his brothers. “Where did you get this letter?”

      “It came registered yesterday.” She gestured toward the envelope. “You can see the return address on the envelope.”

      Ray hadn’t paid attention to it, but he flipped the envelope over and noted the name of a law office. Bush Law, Darren Bush, attorney-at-law.

      Darren Bush was his father’s lawyer. So she hadn’t lied about that.

      “You realize I’ll need to make sure this is legitimate.”

      Scarlet bit down on her lower lip. “Yes, but...I’d like the letter back. It’s the last thing Joe ever wrote to me.”

      He clenched his jaw. “He wrote you other letters?”

      Scarlet shrugged. “Not letters, but he gave me cards for encouragement when I lived at The Family Farm. And then on birthdays.”

      Resentment bubbled inside Ray. Why had his father treated her so special when he’d ignored him?

      Because you knew what he did to your mother. And his anger and bitterness had driven a wedge between the two of them.

      But dammit, his father could have tried.

      “I’m sorry I upset you,” Scarlet said. “I almost didn’t come. But—”

      “But you did,” Ray said again.

      “Yes,” she said in a voice that cracked with emotion. “I don’t want the money per se, but I admired Joe and having a piece of the ranch that he cherished means I’ll always have a part of him. I know you and your brothers feel the same way.”

      Except they were Joe McCullen’s blood. And she was...not family at all.

      Although according to that letter, his father had loved her like a daughter.

      Ray wished to hell he knew exactly how much money and land his father was talking about. And what about this half brother?

      The letter mentioned that he had problems. Would he make trouble for the McCullens?

       Chapter Three

      Scarlet sensed it was time to leave. She hadn’t expected the visit to go well, but she’d hoped...

      What? That the McCullen men would welcome her into their family as Joe had?

      They didn’t even know her. Besides, according to Joe, the three brothers had their own differences to work out. Throwing a surprise half brother in the mix that they were unaware of and adding her—who was not even blood kin—had to rock their foundations.

      They might even find some loophole to prevent her from receiving what Joe had intended her to have.

      A pang hit her. If that happened, she’d live with it. Lord knows, she’d handled rejection before.

      Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure Barbara had ever wanted her.

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