Cowgirl Heart (The Dalton Boys Book 12) Page 10

  Knox pivoted and met Kizzy’s stare. Holding out an arm, he said, “This is my assistant, Kezziah Dalton.”

  “Dalton? Of the Dalton Ranch in Paradise Valley?” The woman’s eyes gleamed as she smiled at Kizzy.

  “Yes, actually, I’m part of that big family.” She approached the couple and shook hands with them as well, aware of Knox standing extra-close and how he smelled so good she wanted to roll herself all over him again.

  “Shall we ride out and I’ll show you where the property bounds will be? Or would you like to come inside first and have a drink with us?”

  Knox including her gave her an odd, tight feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t a deciding voice in this transaction—all she’d done was phone the couple and ask if they’d like to come to the Amazing Grace and discuss a possible sale.

  “A drink would be nice, thank you. We had a long drive.” Marty placed a hand on his wife’s spine. “Is that all right with you, Amanda? I know you’re itching to get a look at that property.”

  “Yes, of course, dear. Thank you, Mr. Cohen. Some refreshment sounds great.”

  Knox gestured for the couple to move to the house, and Kizzy hung back. He paused in his step till she drew beside him.

  “Stay close to me,” he said quietly.

  A thrill hit her system, wandering far too low to be excitement that she was included in his business affairs.

  She met his hazel gaze and nodded.

  The next few minutes were spent on the veranda where Kizzy liked to work with tall glasses of iced tea on the table between them. Knox hadn’t touched his. She wondered if he was hungover from the whiskey he’d drank the night before, but his eyes weren’t bloodshot and he seemed to be his usual self, if a bit more restrained than she saw him back in Houston.

  “We have a ranch up in Montana, but we’re looking to find some warmer temperatures. Hard on the older bones, you know,” Marty was saying with another boisterous laugh.

  Drawing her tea to her lips, Kizzy hid her smile. Men like Marty, who had a sitcom laugh track of their own, always amused the Dalton men, who were more down-to-earth and didn’t need to put on airs.

  She caught Knox’s glance and quickly covered her smile.

  “I’d suggest we take the horses out to see the property today, but I’m afraid we’re a bit rushed for time. I hope you won’t mind my truck for the journey?” Knox granted the couple one of his persuasive smiles. Those pearly whites had probably earned him half the money in his bank account.

  “Yes, that sounds just fine.” Amanda turned to Kizzy. “We’ve read about the Dalton Ranch and how they’ve expanded from cattle to horses.”

  “Yes, some of my brothers and cousins have branched out in recent years and are making a name for themselves.”

  “Do you ride? Of course you do! A woman can’t grow up on a ranch and not ride.”

  Amanda’s statement filled her with remorse, guilt and a generous sprinkle of homesickness for what she’d walked out on in order to pursue what she believed to be her own dreams.

  But the more time she spent here in the country, the more she missed home and wondered why the hell she’d left in the first place. Houston had nothing on this lifestyle—and lacked the view too.

  “I do ride, and I’ve been doing a lot of that here on the Amazing Grace since we arrived.”

  Amanda turned sympathetic eyes on Knox. “We are very sorry to hear about the passing of your father.”

  Next to her, Knox shifted, and under the table, Kizzy saw his fist clench on his knee, as if he was gripping onto some invisible cord to keep him from drowning. “Thank you. Are you finished with your tea? We don’t want to waste a bit of time seeing that land, now, do we?”

  The persuasive tone was accompanied by a smile. The couple stood and all four of them went out to the truck Knox had waiting.

  He caught her elbow before she moved to the back door. “Would you do the honor of driving? It gives me a chance to play tour guide.”

  She blinked up at him. Drive the big diesel that had belonged to his father? She had no problem handling the truck, but she was surprised by the request. “Of course.”

  She got behind the wheel and waited for all to be seated, Knox at her side and the couple in the back seat. By now, she knew the Amazing Grace well enough to navigate the roads winding through the property. She took the road west and listened to Knox speak about the rich heritage of the place.

  What she noticed, more than anything, was the pride seeping into his tone. The more he talked, the more she heard how much he loved the ranch. So why was he selling? He seemed happier and more at ease here, despite the circumstances for him coming. Yet he was eager to break it apart and return to Houston.

  When they reached the high-rise office again, what would become of this friendly rapport they’d gained while here? What would happen to all these feelings that were building inside her?

  “Stop here, please.” His quiet instruction had her applying the brakes, and she put the truck into park. He turned to look at the couple. “Shall we?”

  “Yes, please.” Amanda was already reaching for the door in her eagerness to see the land she had the chance to lay her hands on.

  Kizzy got out last, a deep ache of sadness weighing her down. This was Knox’s land—Cohen land. A legacy that his father, who she hadn’t even known, had built into the massive operation it was now. And she couldn’t help but think of her own family and put herself into Knox’s shoes. If she inherited the Dalton Ranch, would she sell it off?

  The answer was a swift hell no.

  She would stay on and run it to the best of her ability. If that meant hiring top people to help, then that was what she would do. Because her love of the country and ranchin’ was bred into her. Somehow, Knox had convinced her of that even if he hadn’t meant to. Just being here was enough.

  Looking at Knox as he spoke about the pastures and water supply, she didn’t think he was so different from her—love oozed into his tone as well.

  She had to convince him to rethink this decision. She couldn’t help but believe he would regret it—if not now, then someday soon.

  He had the money to wait and see, so why rush into the decision?

  The thunder of hooves on the earth made her turn, and she saw John Cohen riding up, fast and hard. His horse was puffing, nostrils flaring as John reined it up and dismounted.

  Kizzy rushed to the horse, taking it by the reins to walk it in order to cool it off, even as she kept her sights on John.

  The man strode up to Knox and got into his face. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

  A calm came over Knox, but his clenched fist belied his masked expression. “John, this is Marty and Amanda Rock. They’re interested in purchasing the western plot I’ve decided to sell.”

  He spoke the last three words through clenched teeth as he squared up to his uncle. The challenge was clear in the set of his broad shoulders.

  John slashed the air with a hand. “You cannot sell even a single square inch of the Amazing Grace. Your daddy left it to you for a reason. He wanted you to come home and help him, and you never did.”

  Talk about a guilt trip. Kizzy walked the horse past them, focused on Knox.

  “I forbid you to sell to these people!” John’s voice came out as a harsh command.

  Uh-oh. If Kizzy knew anything of Knox, giving him a command or any sort of ultimatum only served as fuel to the fires, and he’d tug back in the opposite direction every time.

  Which John had to know. He had to realize—

  She stopped on a soft gasp. His uncle was using reverse psychology on him, wasn’t he?

  She latched her stare onto John now, saw the agitation coming off him in waves and his dark eyes snapping.

  “John,” Knox said with an evenness that belied what he must be feeling, “we’ll discuss this later, alone.”

  “We’ll damn well talk about this now!” He sliced a glance at Marty, who turned away with a s
mile on his face—but not before she caught it.

  Narrowing her eyes, she watched John and Marty, noting the reaction of the prospective buyer and the show she now believed John was putting on for the buyers’ benefit.

  Knox stepped up to John. “I said, we will discuss this later. Alone.”

  John glared at him for a long heartbeat. Strangely, Amanda and Marty didn’t reflect a single hint of surprise at this exchange. Nor did they vibrate with the tension in the air, as anyone would be if they saw relatives facing off.

  The Rocks knew what would happen, she concluded.

  A rash decision struck Kizzy, and she swung onto the back of the horse she was walking. Knox looked up at her.

  “I’m going back to the ranch. I’ll see you there.” She sent him a pointed look, but whether or not he cottoned on to it, she’d find out later. She had to get back to the ranch and do a little digging on the Rocks—and John Cohen too.

  Chapter Seven

  How to find a connection? Where to look?

  Kizzy led the horse to the barn and began stripping off the saddle and tack. Her mind so deep in thought that she didn’t hear Corbin till he was standing beside her.

  She looked up at the ranch hand.

  He stepped in. “Everything okay, Kizzy?” Concern creased his eyes.

  “Yes. Just lost in thought.”

  “Let me take that.” He took the bridle from her hand and hung it on a wall peg then got down a brush and began working over the horse’s coat.

  The animal’s hide shivered in pleasure at the bristles, and Kizzy watched for a moment as Corbin cared for the horse.

  If anybody knew the workings of the ranch, it was a ranch hand. And Corbin would have worked closely with John as well, right?

  She sidled up to him and leaned against a barrel full of feed as she watched him brush the horse. “I met some people today. Guests on the ranch.”

  Corbin cocked a brow at her. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, a couple by the name of Rock.” Her heart pounded harder.

  “I know of ’em,” he said, moving the brush in long strokes down the length of the horse’s flank.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Been by plenty. He and John are friends.”

  Bingo.

  Pulse racing at the revelation, she steadied herself against the barrel. She really wanted to run and find Knox and tell him what she’d just learned about these buyers and his uncle too. The man was lying through his teeth to Knox about wanting him to stick around, at least that was her perception of the situation.

  “I bet John’s got a lot of friends who come by the ranch.”

  “Yeah, a few closer than others, especially since his brother died.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  Corbin looked up from the brushing. “What’s going on?”

  “Just wondered is all. Ranchin’s a small community. I wondered if any are people I know.”

  He named a few more, and she committed them to memory.

  “Sure you don’t want me to take over for you? You must have a hundred other things to do.” She was itching to get to her laptop and dig a little about the names.

  Corbin sent her a grin. “I got it. You’ve probably got work too. A man like Knox has to be a slave driver.”

  Again, she felt no love between the two, even with Knox far off in the field with the Rocks and his uncle.

  She smiled at Corbin and left the barn.

  In her suite of rooms, she took a chair at her desk and began searching the names. When she had phone numbers, she contacted them, letting the people believe she was John’s assistant, calling on his behalf.

  “Tell John I’ll be up to the Amazing Grace the minute I get the call from his nephew. Oh, and the realty company won’t be taking their cut either, since it’ll be a private sale,” one man told her.

  “Really? No cut for the realtor?” Her mind raced. “That seems odd.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too, but since our lawyers will be handling the resale back to John, then we cut the realtor out of the loop.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Well, that sounds just peachy,” she said in her best sweet drawl. “We’ll be in touch, sir. Thank you for speaking with me.”

  She hung up and sat against the back of her chair in shock. From what she’d learned, John was trying to convince Knox that he shouldn’t sell. Meanwhile, he was setting up buyers, so-called friends who would turn around and sell the land back to him. But for what purpose? So he could own the Amazing Grace, or something more?

  Half an hour and three calls later, she almost bit the pen she was nibbling in half when she finally got to the bottom of it all.

  A casino wanted in, and John had the land to sell to them, at a hefty profit that would see the man more than wealthy and comfortable for the rest of his life.

  She had to find Knox.

  * * * * *

  Knox felt Kizzy’s presence like a wave of heat against his side. She’d ridden off and left him with the Rocks, and he wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t a flighty person, nor one to judge, but he couldn’t help but believe she didn’t approve of his choice to sell some of the ranch and had taken off because of it.

  She waited not so patiently, shifting from boot to boot as he saw the Rocks back into their truck and told them he’d be in touch.

  As soon as the doors closed and the truck was rolling down the drive, she stepped in front of him. “You can’t sell to them.”

  “What?” Not her too. He’d had enough words with John for one day, and he didn’t need her griping on him as well. His uncle had taken off walking the long distance back to the house, and Knox hadn’t offered to drive him back after Kizzy commandeered his horse.

  She thrust out a sheet of paper to him, and he took it. Skimming over a list of names, he saw the Rocks included.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “This,” she said with emphasis, “is a list of your uncle’s friends.”

  He went still. “Where did you get it?”

  “From Corbin.”

  “Corbin doesn’t know anything. Don’t let him convince you he does.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not interested in whatever beef lies between you and the ranch hand. I’m trying to tell you not to sell to the Rocks or any of the people on this list.” She looked at him closer. “You recognize some of the names, don’t you?”

  Hell. What was going on?

  “Yeah, I do. Now explain all this.”

  She didn’t demand he ask her nicely or use a kinder tone of voice—and that was one of the million things he liked about Kizzy. She was a no-bullshit kind of woman, a rare gem in a sea of fakes.

  She pointed to the list. “These names were given to me by Corbin just an hour ago.”

  The fact she was with Corbin an hour ago irritated the hell out of him, but he said, “Go on.”

  “Your uncle knows them.” She stared at him.

  He stared back.

  She shoved out a hasty sigh, obviously irritated he wasn’t catching her meaning. “These people want to buy parts of the ranch, and your uncle knows them. I contacted several of them, and they’re planning to buy the land, and then instantly sell it back.”

  “Back to whom?” A hollow burn took up residence in his gut. He already knew the answer.

  “To John Cohen. He’s going to collect the Amazing Grace into one unit again and sell to a casino looking to get in the area.”

  Goddammit. Knox suspected his uncle was being overly pushy about him not selling the place, but that sounded like a ploy.

  “Knox, he knows you’ll do the opposite of what he is telling you. He—”

  He raised a hand for silence, and she cut off. “I need to think a moment.”

  She gave him space. When he walked into the house again, she didn’t follow.

  He went straight to his room and called four out of the five people on the list. None of them wanted to answer his questions, and one person wouldn’t even acce
pt his call.

  That was answer enough for him, and a seething anger took hold. The grip on his chest made it burn, and he wanted to put his fists through every wall in the place and finish the explosive spree of anger by knocking out all of his uncle’s teeth. He’d lied through the pearly whites enough for a lifetime, and it was time Knox took the reins.

  First, he had to find Kizzy and apologize for his reaction just a bit ago. She didn’t deserve that colder part of himself—he never wanted to show it to her again.

  Then he was going to find John and clamp his fist around the man’s balls until he squealed like a little girl and confessed everything.

  In the back of his mind, too, was the knowledge that a man who would do something like this wasn’t against sabotaging him—or the ranch—in other ways.

  He had to dive deep into the operations and see what was being done and if anything was blatantly ignored as a way to break down the ranch further right underneath Knox’s nose.

  Hell, maybe his father’s too, unbeknownst to him.

  Knox found Kizzy in her room. She looked up when he entered with only a cursory knock.

  “Ride with me.”

  She stood without a word and followed him to the paddock.

  “What are we doing?” she asked as he crossed through the gate to capture two horses for them.

  Turning, his resolve hardened as he looked into her blue eyes. “It’s time for me to be a cowboy again.”

  * * * * *

  All seemed on the up and up in the pastures closest to the ranch, but she had a deep worry that where nobody could see, that might not be the case.

  But the ranch hands would be checking the herds regularly, no matter which pasture they were in, right?

  Knox’s profile was hard granite, and he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Thinking to take more burden off his shoulders, she rode up beside him.