LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      Jensen Fortune Chesterfield slipped out the back door of the small Texas ranch house in which he was staying, hoping to escape the chattering crowd and to find a little peace and quiet.

      Inside, his family had gathered to celebrate Christmas on Boxing Day with their new Texas relatives. But he wasn’t in the mood for all the holiday gaiety—and hadn’t been since his father died nearly four years ago.

      After Sir Simon Chesterfield suffered a fatal heart attack during a polo match, Jensen had been plagued by a bah-humbug mood that began in December and lasted through the better part of January.

      In some ways, he wished he’d stayed in England, but his mother wanted him to join her in Horseback Hollow, where his sister Amelia now lived with her husband, Quinn Drummond.

      His mother was staying with her sister, while his younger siblings had rooms at a local bed-and-breakfast. Jensen was staying with Amelia and Quinn. The space was a bit tight, but the arrangement suited him. As he stood in the yard, he took in a deep breath and surveyed the grounds. If you removed the vehicles in the drive, the Drummond ranch would’ve made the perfect Western setting for a cowboy movie. He actually found it quite appealing, but then, he’d always been a fan of classic American Westerns, even the old black-and-white ones he occasionally caught on late-night cable when he couldn’t sleep.

      Despite his wealthy London upbringing, he liked being in the country. Plus, with him here and Amelia’s due date fast approaching, he’d be able to watch over her while Quinn was out working the ranch.

      Fortunately, her pregnancy had been uneventful as far as medical concerns. But, emotionally, she’d had a time of it early on, when the paparazzi had pounced on her, making her life miserable. And they’d been especially annoying lately. He wouldn’t put it past them to try to infiltrate the family gathering today, which was one reason he was on guard.

      He reached inside his pocket and withdrew his gold watch, a habit he’d picked up over the past four years. The treasured heirloom had once belonged to his father, and for some reason, he drew comfort from the weight and the feel of it in his hand.

      As the back door squeaked open, Jensen glanced over his shoulder to see his mother stepping out and onto the porch. She was dressed impeccably in a simple forest-green dress and heels, her silver hair coiffed as though her personal stylist had accompanied her on the transatlantic trip to Dallas/Fort Worth and then the quick hop on a charter flight to Lubbock.

      “Jensen,” she called. “What are you doing outside when the chill is so frightful?”

      “I wanted some fresh air.” To prove the imaginary excuse, he took a deep breath, relishing the brisk winter breeze.

      His mother, Lady Josephine, made her way toward him—no doubt concerned about him distancing himself from the others. But he was in Horseback Hollow, wasn’t he? And not out each evening at one of the many parties he’d attend if he was home in London.

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