LITMIR.BIZ

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was tall, with long, straight blond hair, blue eyes that never missed much and an easy smile. In Liam’s experience, she was the one exception to the rule that rich, high-society females were useless. And she was a friend.

      “Didn’t see you there,” Liam had said, grateful he hadn’t been complaining about her father out loud.

      “Yes, I know.” She’d shrugged, tucked her hands into the pockets of her pale gray slacks and said, “I found out a long time ago that you can learn all kinds of interesting things if people don’t realize you’re around.”

      Liam had grinned. “Sneaky, are you?”

      “I prefer covert,” Esme had said, still smiling. “Look, Liam, I know my father can be...challenging.”

      He snorted. As a PR executive at Perry Holdings, Esme spent most of her time explaining her father’s actions and guarding the family company. But of all the Perry kids, Esme had always been a friend.

      “But he’s right in this. I know you don’t want to talk to Chloe, but she’s not what you think she is.”

      Not convinced, he’d snorted again. “You mean she’s not the daughter of a rich man with more money than sense?”

      “I didn’t say that,” Esme had allowed. “But Chloe’s more than that. She’s working hard to make a life for herself, and I would think you more than anyone could understand that.”

      He could and that bothered him. Still, in his experience, wealthy women were mostly concerned with their hair and being seen at all the right parties.

      “She’s really nice and very driven,” Esme had said, then paused. “Like you.”

      “Driven?” Liam had been unconvinced. He and Esme had been friends for a long time, so he didn’t take offense at the word. But he also didn’t believe it applied to him.

      “Oh, please.” She’d waved one hand as if wiping away his disbelief. “You’ve always known exactly what you want, and you’ve devoted yourself to getting it.”

      All right, he’d silently conceded, maybe driven was the right word to describe him. Liam had planned out his life a long time ago, and finally that plan was becoming a reality. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But how are Chloe and I in any way alike?”

      “Because she’s plotting her own course, too. She’s a friend, Liam, and all she’s asking is to be heard.”

      “About a camp for little girls. On the ranch.”

      One eyebrow had lifted. “So only little boys are allowed to dream of being a cowboy?”

      Neatly boxed in, he’d bowed his head. “You got me. I’ll hear her out.”

      “And give her a fair chance,” Esme had said.

      “And give her a fair chance.”

      “Thanks, that’s all I’m asking.” Esme had walked closer. She’d reached up, kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder at the same time. “Now, don’t pout because you gave in. It’s so unattractive.”

      He’d laughed and left the house, shaking his head at the Perry family. Sterling got his way through intimidation. Esme did the same thing with a smile and reason. He preferred Esme’s way.

      “Hey, man!” Mike elbowed him and instantly Liam came up out of his thoughts like a drowning man breaching the water’s surface. Memories of those conversations with Sterling and Esme washed away, and he faced the foreman-to-be.

      “What?”

      Mike laughed shortly. “You were somewhere else.”

      “Yeah, too much on my mind,” he admitted, and couldn’t wait for the day when all he had to think about was his own ranch, his own life, his own damn future.

      Until then, Liam would meet the Hemsworth woman, hear her out and then get back to the real world of ranching.

      Liam and Mike walked across the ranch yard toward the corral where one of the men was putting a steel-gray stallion through its paces. The horse was stubborn as hell, didn’t like a bridle and pretty much thought running in circles in a corral was a waste of time. Liam couldn’t blame him. It was exactly how he felt about the last several years.

      Mike, already comfortable in his new role as “almost foreman,” climbed the corral fence to lend the cowboy a hand. Liam watched the show, but his mind wasn’t on the horse or the men in front of him. Instead, he thought about his own place, and how damned eager he was to be there.

      Liam threw a long glance over his shoulder at the big house that Sterling had inherited from his late wife. Sterling Perry might not be much of a rancher himself, but the man had always loved this place and he knew how to put on a show. The house was big enough for four families to live in. It gleamed such a bright white when the sun hit it, a man could be blinded. Not to mention the hot Texas sun glancing off the million or so windows on the place. It was showy and fancy and suited Sterling down to the ground.

      On Liam’s own place though, the house he’d had built was a two-story log house with wide porches that wrapped around both the upper and lower floors. It was big enough for the family he might decide one day to have, but not so damn big a kid could get lost in it.

      A flicker of shame slapped him as he told himself he shouldn’t be thinking badly of Sterling Perry. The man had his problems, but he’d given Liam a chance when he’d needed it. For that, he’d always owe the older man.

      A distant rumble caught his ear, and Liam turned his head to the southwest. Thunderheads were gathering on the horizon, big and black and threatening. As if proving itself to him, the coming storm sent a gust of wind to slap at him. The scent of rain was on that wind, and everything inside him told Liam they were in for a hell of a storm. No surprise, he thought, the weathermen hadn’t forecasted it at all.

      Shaking his head, he called out, “Hey, Mike!”

      His replacement turned toward him. “Yeah?”

      “I’m heading into Houston for that meeting. Going to try to beat that storm back home. If I don’t, you make sure the yearlings are locked down, you hear?”

      He waved. “Don’t worry about it, Liam. I’ve got it.”

      Nodding, Liam briefly lifted one hand and then headed for his black truck. Mike had already proved to him that he knew what he was doing, and that he’d be a good foreman once Liam’s time here was done. And if Mike needed help in the short time Liam would be gone, then the other cowboys could step in.

      Soon, he told himself, this ranch wouldn’t be his problem. Soon, he’d be working at his own spread instead of simply checking in with his own foreman every couple days. He steered the truck down the oh so familiar drive and wondered how many thousands of times he’d driven this route over the years. Then he figured it didn’t matter. He hit the Bluetooth speed dial, listened to the ring and when the foreman at his own ranch answered, Liam started talking. “Joe, you get everything tied down over there? Looks like a beast of a storm headed in.”

      “Just saw that, boss.”

      Liam smiled to himself. If there was one thing you could count on with a man who worked the land, it was that he always kept a sharp eye on the skies. Hell, weather was the one thing a rancher—or a farmer—couldn’t control. So when there was a potential enemy always ready to rain down misery on you, well, that kept a man permanently on his guard.

      “The boys are bringing in the mares now,” Joe said. “Looks like we’ve got some time yet. Heck, storm might pass us altogether. But if it doesn’t, we’ll have everything set before it hits. Don’t worry.”

      “I’m not,” Liam lied. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his foreman or the other men working for him, it was only that he’d feel a hell of a lot better if he was there, taking care of things himself.

      He’d worked most of his life toward

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