LITMIR.BIZ

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Jeremiah.”

      “He didn’t have the means then.” She directed a hard look his way. “Nor the evidence we have now. Jeremiah made sure of that.”

      “We both have interesting characters in our respective families,” he said with grim humor. Jeremiah Kincaid had been a womanizer just as his own father had been. However, unlike Larry with his six, maybe seven, illegitimate kids, Jeremiah had only two that they knew of.

      She ignored his attempt to put them on common ground. Her face stern, she reminded him, “There is no statute of limitations on fraud.”

      “Yeah, I remember that from business law.”

      He had studied business management from a ranching viewpoint. Business law had focused on land ownership and legal decisions involving ranches and cattle disputes, or the inheritance of those.

      “Then you must admit we have a very strong case,” Hope said. “It would be in your family’s interests to settle it now.”

      He couldn’t help the sardonic tinge in his voice. “Well, now, if it were up to me, I would, but with the sale of those two parcels—one of which was to the Laughing Horse Reservation—others are involved. Jackson Hawk says the res won’t give up the land. They’re too far along with plans for a resort on it.”

      Her eyes turned frosty. “That land belongs to my father. The trustees had no right to sell it. Surely with the famous Kincaid influence and charm, your grandfather can persuade the tribal elders to give up their claim. I’m sure the Kincaids can afford to return their money.”

      “With interest,” he agreed, his own tone hardening.

      The waitress arrived with their food, forestalling the argument. Damn, but he was tired of this whole thing. They had been at a stalemate for months. What made his granddad think he could break through the impasse? Baxter’s daughter was as tough and stubborn as her old man.

      Silence engulfed them when they were alone again. He began eating the meal, one of his favorites, without tasting it. When the door of the café opened, he watched the new arrivals with a jaundiced eye. He recognized the woman as a local florist and wedding planner. She carried her son in her arms.

      The kid, who looked about two years old, glanced his way and shouted, “Ope. Ope.”

      Collin felt decidedly uncomfortable, as if the boy had named him the absent and unknown father of the florist’s son. Heat suffused his ears.

      The woman laughed and came toward him. Hell, what was going on?

      “Hope,” she said to her son. “Hope.”

      “Ope. Ope,” the boy said.

      Hope laughed, startling him. It was a truly joyous sound, a welcoming sound rather than an amused gurgle. He was instantly fascinated. She held out her arms.

      For a second Collin thought heaven had opened its gates and was inviting him inside. He was totally fascinated by the change in her. Whereas a moment ago she’d been all frosty professionalism, there was now tenderness and laughter in her eyes. But she wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed hard and watched the woman with the kid stop at the table.

      “Here, he’s yours.” The mother dumped the child into Hope’s willing embrace. “Gabe can say ‘Ope,’ but can’t seem to get the H on the front of Hope,” she explained to Collin.

      “Hey, big boy,” Hope murmured.

      “Shug,” the child said in an insistent voice.

      “You have some sugar for me?” she asked in make-believe surprise, her eyes going wide.

      The kid nodded and grinned happily.

      To Collin’s further amazement, the cool, serious attorney planted loud, smacking kisses on the toddler’s neck and ear until he giggled with delight. The kid caught chubby fists in her smooth hair and left it in tangles when she settled him on her lap.

      Seeing his gaze on them, the blush hit her cheeks again. “This is Meg Reilly and her son, Gabe. Have you two met?” Hope asked, reverting to the polite persona he suddenly disliked.

      “No, we haven’t. Glad to meet you,” he said.

      “You’re Collin, right?” Meg asked. “It’s hard to keep all the Kincaid brothers straight. Oh, I’m sorry. That was extremely rude of me.”

      With green eyes and wavy brown hair, she was a pretty woman a few years older than he. He liked her rueful smile and straightforward manner when she apologized.

      “No problem,” he assured her. “I had trouble keeping the names straight myself when it was discovered I had six half brothers.”

      Her frank gaze was discerning. “That must have been a startling revelation.”

      “To put it mildly.”

      “From all evidence, you’ve handled it well.” She turned to her son who was playing some kind of clapping game with Hope. “Okay, young man, I know you hate to leave the love of your young life, but Mommy needs to eat. It’s been a hectic morning with a bridal shower and two funerals,” she explained to the adults.

      “Who’s dead?” Collin asked.

      Sorrow rippled over her face. “A baby that was stillborn, and the son of a rancher who lives at the far northern reaches of the county. The son was from New York. He was in advertising and dropped dead of a heart attack in a meeting with a client. His father brought him back here to be buried in the family cemetery.”

      “It must be terrible to lose a child,” Hope said, handing the boy to Meg. Her eyes were as soft as velvet.

      “Yes,” Meg agreed after a beat of silence. “See you later. Don’t forget you’re coming to supper Thursday night.”

      “I won’t.”

      Watching Hope with her friend, Collin had an idea. He considered it from every angle, looking for flaws and planning an argument to win her to the plan, which, in his estimation, was a sound one.

      When Meg and Gabe left them to sit at the counter, he ate the tasty hash and studied Hope for a moment before speaking what was on his mind.

      “I think you should come out to the ranch and look the land over before presenting our offer to your father. That way you’ll know exactly what we’re talking about. I can show you the two parcels in dispute.”

      He liked the way her eyes opened wide as surprise darted through them. He waited impatiently for her answer.

      Two

       “N o,” Hope said, sounding as horrified as she felt.

      She had done some stupid things in her life, such as getting mixed up with a fortune hunter in law school, but becoming involved with Collin Kincaid wasn’t going to be added to the list. She knew all about his father and the women the man had seduced—there were six known bastard sons to verify that. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be seduced by the current Kincaid heir. Going to the ranch with Collin would be the first step on that slippery slope.

      “It would be logical,” he insisted, leaning forward over the table, his expression serious.

      “’Logical’?” she questioned. That was the last word she would have expected him to use.

      “Sure. You can view the two parcels that were sold, then you’ll know exactly what you’re talking about when you approach your father with our offer. Or don’t you care to see the land you’re fighting so hard over?”

      The sardonic undertone hit a nerve. She had, of course, been out to the old Baxter spread. From what she could see, it was mostly hills and sharp peaks, but in truth she had only gone a short distance. The original ranch road had been too overgrown with shrubs and pine seedlings to navigate and the old mining road had been too rough for her car. A four-wheel-drive vehicle was the only practical way to get around

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