Out of Exile. Carla Cassidy

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      “And so she’s come here hoping we’ll default on the terms of my father’s will and she’ll inherit the place?” he asked tersely.

      “I know all about the terms of the will, that your father set it up so you all have to work here for a year before the ranch officially becomes yours. And I know if any one of you defaults on the conditions, the ranch goes to Aunt Clara.”

      She took a step toward him and placed her hand on his forearm. He suddenly remembered that about her, that she’d been a toucher. “She doesn’t want the ranch, Matthew. All she wants is a home here with the rest of her family.”

      What family? Matthew wanted to ask. The Delaneys had never been a family. They had been four children trapped in a life with a brutal dictator, four siblings who’d been isolated by fear and distrust. But Matthew didn’t talk about such things. He never talked about it.

      “Why doesn’t she move in with you?” he asked, then realizing how cold he sounded, he hurriedly continued, “I mean, you’re certainly much closer to her than any of my brothers and sister have been over the years.”

      She nodded, the gesture giving her thick, dark hair a sensual sway. “I told her I’d get a bigger apartment, that she was more than welcome to move in with me, but she insisted she wants to be here.”

      He fought the sigh of resignation that rose in his throat. “Then I guess she’s going to be here.”

      Lilly offered him a wide smile that lit every feature on her face. He felt the warmth of that smile burrow deep in the pit of his stomach. “Thanks, Matthew. More than anything, I want her to be happy.”

      He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did you really think I’d send her away?”

      She grabbed a strand of her midnight hair and twirled it around her finger. “To be honest I didn’t know what to expect. We haven’t exactly stayed in touch, and I wasn’t sure how you might react.”

      She was right. Many years had passed since they’d spoken or had any contact. She had no idea what kind of man he’d become, just as he had little idea of the woman she’d become.

      “How long are you going to be here?” he asked. “Hasn’t school started in Dallas?” The last thing he’d heard was that she was a high school counselor.

      “Yes, but I decided to take a year off.” Her gaze slid away from his.

      “Really? Why?”

      She shrugged. “I just decided I needed a little break.”

      She walked over to one of the other stalls and reached out to pet the mare confined there.

      Matthew watched her. He had a feeling there was more to the story, but told himself it was none of his business. She was none of his business.

      Still, he had to admit to himself that she was as pretty as she’d been at sixteen…even prettier. She was still slender, but with curves in the right places. Her hair wasn’t as long as it had been years ago, but it still framed her face with glossy darkness, a perfect foil for her startling blue eyes.

      “You never married.” It was a statement, not a question.

      She turned to look at him once again. “Neither have you,” she countered.

      “That’s right. And I never intend to marry.” Matthew knew well the reasons why he would never bind himself to a woman. “I like living my life alone. What about you?”

      She gave the horse a final pat. “For the most part I’m comfortable alone. I’ve never felt the need for marriage. I think there are just some people who aren’t cut out for the institution.” She grinned. “And no, I’m not gay.”

      He blinked in surprise. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”

      “You’d be surprised how many men discover I’m thirty-five and never been married and just assume it must be because I’m gay, or at the very least highly dysfunctional in some way or another. There are times it gets quite irritating.”

      He felt a grudging grin curve his mouth. Even as a young woman she’d been in touch with her emotions and had no problems verbalizing them. He’d always admired that about her.

      “So how long are you planning on staying?” he repeated as they headed for the stable door.

      “A week, maybe two if that’s all right with you. I’d like to see Aunt Clara settled in.” She grinned, the infectious smile he remembered from their youth. “But don’t worry, Matthew. I’m a big girl now. I don’t expect you to squire me around on this visit. I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.”

      They both halted as the door to the stables opened and Jacob Tilley walked in. “Jacob!” Matthew said in surprise.

      He hadn’t seen Jacob since six months ago when Jacob’s father, Walter Tilley had been sent away to prison.

      “I’m sorry to interrupt, Matthew,” Jacob said. “One of your men told me you were out here and I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.”

      Matthew turned to Lilly. “Jacob, this is Lilliana Winstead.”

      “Yes, I remember you,” Jacob said and held his hand out to her. “You used to visit in the summers.”

      “That’s right,” Lilly replied. “And you used to come with your father when he’d have a meeting with Adam.” She shook his hand, then stepped back from them. “I’ll just get out of here and give you two some privacy.” Without a backward glance she left the stables.

      “Pretty, isn’t she?” Jacob observed when she had gone.

      “She’s all right. What can I do for you, Jacob?” Matthew asked, curious as to why this man would show his face around here.

      “I hear the ranch is doing well,” he said as he swept his hat from his head and fingered the brim. “Heard you’re booked up solid through Christmas.”

      “We’re doing all right,” Matthew replied. He eyed the man patiently, knowing eventually he would get around to the reason for this visit.

      Jacob shifted from one foot to the other, his gaze not meeting Matthew’s. “This can be a tough town, an unforgiving town.”

      “Are you here on behalf of your father?” Matthew asked. Seven months before, Walter Tilley had been the executor of Adam Delaney’s will and the family lawyer. Then it was discovered he was running illegal aliens through the ranch and was responsible for the death of a young woman who’d been working the ranch as a social director.

      “No, I’m here on behalf of me…and my family.” For the first time Jacob looked him square in the eyes. “I hear you’re doing some hiring.”

      “I always do this time of year,” Matthew replied. “I’ve got interviews set up for tomorrow.”

      “I was afraid if I tried to set anything up with you, you’d turn me down,” Jacob replied. He frowned. “And of course, I wouldn’t blame you if you did. What my father did to you, to this ranch, was inexcusable.”

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