don’t, remember I’m watching.
Wade
How long must it have taken you to write the letter,
Matt thought. He shook his dark head in admiration and love. Wade was a tenacious fighter in more ways than one. Matt’s mouth tilted slightly at the corners at the warm memories his uncle’s letter evoked. When he glanced at Shannon, his blossoming smile vanished.
She looked utterly devastated. Her expression reminded him too much of himself when, ten years ago, Kane had brought a reluctant and angry Matt to Wade’s ranch.
Matt had initially stayed because of his mother’s tears, but it was his uncle’s prodding and the land that helped Matt forget his wife’s infidelity and turn his life around.
The painstakingly written letter clutched in her hand, Shannon recalled the peaceful expression on Wade’s face, the wistfulness in his voice when he talked of his meadow. He called it a place touched by the smile of God. No, Wade wouldn’t have wanted her to sell the land. Nor would he have been pleased to know she had taunted Matt with the possibility.
Wade thought she and Matt might help each other. That was impossible. Healing took time and trust, and Matt wasn’t going to give her either.
Unsteadily, she pushed to her feet. “I’d like to think things over before I sign. I’ll let you know my decision before I return to St. Louis.” She turned to Matt. “In . . . in my letter Wade speaks fondly of you. Remember him the same way. He wasn’t trying to take from you as much as he was trying to help me.”
His continued silence hurt as much as the censure in his unrelenting face. She needed someone to recall the good memories instead of the sad ones. After reading Wade’s letter, a part of her wished it could be Matt.
Sadness weighing heavily on her shoulders, she extended her hand to the lawyer. “Good day, Mr. Ferguson, and thank you for all your help.”
“If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate tocall,” Mr. Ferguson said. “Wade was more than a client, he was a close friend.”
Shaking the lawyer’s hand, she left very much aware of Matt’s continued silence and the growing sadness within her.
“Where is she?” Octavia asked as soon as Matt walked through the front door of the ranch house.
“She who?” Matt never slackened his stride.
“Don’t get funny with me, Matt Taggart,” Octavia told him. “Shannon Johnson, that’s who.”
Matt flipped through the mail in his hand. “How should I know?”
“You had an appointment with her at Ferguson’s office. I know you didn’t expect Wade to leave her the meadow,” she said, “but I guess he had his reasons.”
“So I gathered, but there has got to be more to it than his letter explained. It also doesn’t explain why the woman he left it to is ready to take my head off one minute and then before I can blink, she’s trying to comfort me,” Matt railed.
His mood had grown darker since he saw Shannon fighting tears. She hadn’t acted the way he expected. Why hadn’t she signed the papers in the lawyer’s office? Why wait?
Suspicion narrowed the housekeeper’s eyes. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing.” Matt barely kept from growling the word. Tossing the letters and magazines on his desk in his study, he retraced his steps to the front door. He hadn’t felt so on edge since Kane dumped him at the Circle T. Octavia’s nagging wasn’t helping.
“She doesn’t know anyone else here, where would she go?”
Matt spun around. “How would I know? She’s probably someplace trying to con some man and make a fast buck.”
Octavia opened her mouth, saw Matt’s scowl deepenand said, “My arthritis is acting up. I won’t be able to fix supper tonight or breakfast tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Jerking open the heavy front door, he headed for the barn. Whenever the housekeeper wanted him to know she was really upset with him, her “arthritis” acted up and she went on a work strike. In reality, she was as limber and
Wade
How long must it have taken you to write the letter,
Matt thought. He shook his dark head in admiration and love. Wade was a tenacious fighter in more ways than one. Matt’s mouth tilted slightly at the corners at the warm memories his uncle’s letter evoked. When he glanced at Shannon, his blossoming smile vanished.
She looked utterly devastated. Her expression reminded him too much of himself when, ten years ago, Kane had brought a reluctant and angry Matt to Wade’s ranch.
Matt had initially stayed because of his mother’s tears, but it was his uncle’s prodding and the land that helped Matt forget his wife’s infidelity and turn his life around.
The painstakingly written letter clutched in her hand, Shannon recalled the peaceful expression on Wade’s face, the wistfulness in his voice when he talked of his meadow. He called it a place touched by the smile of God. No, Wade wouldn’t have wanted her to sell the land. Nor would he have been pleased to know she had taunted Matt with the possibility.
Wade thought she and Matt might help each other. That was impossible. Healing took time and trust, and Matt wasn’t going to give her either.
Unsteadily, she pushed to her feet. “I’d like to think things over before I sign. I’ll let you know my decision before I return to St. Louis.” She turned to Matt. “In . . . in my letter Wade speaks fondly of you. Remember him the same way. He wasn’t trying to take from you as much as he was trying to help me.”
His continued silence hurt as much as the censure in his unrelenting face. She needed someone to recall the good memories instead of the sad ones. After reading Wade’s letter, a part of her wished it could be Matt.
Sadness weighing heavily on her shoulders, she extended her hand to the lawyer. “Good day, Mr. Ferguson, and thank you for all your help.”
“If there is anything I can do, please don’t hesitate tocall,” Mr. Ferguson said. “Wade was more than a client, he was a close friend.”
Shaking the lawyer’s hand, she left very much aware of Matt’s continued silence and the growing sadness within her.
“Where is she?” Octavia asked as soon as Matt walked through the front door of the ranch house.
“She who?” Matt never slackened his stride.
“Don’t get funny with me, Matt Taggart,” Octavia told him. “Shannon Johnson, that’s who.”
Matt flipped through the mail in his hand. “How should I know?”
“You had an appointment with her at Ferguson’s office. I know you didn’t expect Wade to leave her the meadow,” she said, “but I guess he had his reasons.”
“So I gathered, but there has got to be more to it than his letter explained. It also doesn’t explain why the woman he left it to is ready to take my head off one minute and then before I can blink, she’s trying to comfort me,” Matt railed.
His mood had grown darker since he saw Shannon fighting tears. She hadn’t acted the way he expected. Why hadn’t she signed the papers in the lawyer’s office? Why wait?
Suspicion narrowed the housekeeper’s eyes. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing.” Matt barely kept from growling the word. Tossing the letters and magazines on his desk in his study, he retraced his steps to the front door. He hadn’t felt so on edge since Kane dumped him at the Circle T. Octavia’s nagging wasn’t helping.
“She doesn’t know anyone else here, where would she go?”
Matt spun around. “How would I know? She’s probably someplace trying to con some man and make a fast buck.”
Octavia opened her mouth, saw Matt’s scowl deepenand said, “My arthritis is acting up. I won’t be able to fix supper tonight or breakfast tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Jerking open the heavy front door, he headed for the barn. Whenever the housekeeper wanted him to know she was really upset with him, her “arthritis” acted up and she went on a work strike. In reality, she was as limber and
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