Page 14 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

“The thing is, nobody knows about the separation. Not in my family, anyway. A year and a half ago my brother got married and I paid her twenty thousand dollars to fly east for the wedding and pretend we were still together.”

“Why?” Bailey exclaimed.

“I don’t know. At the time we’d only been separated six months, and I had hope maybe things would work out and we’d get back together. And then I saw Maggie and Cam together, remembered how it’s supposed to be, and realized I didn’t actually want Isabel back. I mean, I wanted to maintain my marriage because that’s what you do—you get married and you stay married. But I can’t stand her. She repulses me on every level. The ranch is a pawn between us, the threat she constantly dangles before me. I’m the fourth generation in my family to run this place. Do you understand what it would be like to lose it because I married for looks?”

“Yes,” she said, and he thought maybe she did get it. She seemed the type of person who would understand the full weight of the responsibility he was under, of duty and honor.

“What’s the solution?” he asked earnestly. “Because so far I can’t find my way out, so we linger in this mutual trap of loathing, both of us in misery. She lives on a far corner of theland and dates other men. Lots of other men, if the rumors are true. I remain here, a cuckolded laughing stock who pays for her lavish, entitled lifestyle.”

“Have you spoken to a lawyer?”

“Yes, and the law’s on her side. She could take half the ranch. I only own seventy percent, my brother owns thirty. In the case of a divorce, Isabel and I would split my half, thirty five percent each. Even with Cam and I having the majority, she would make life a misery just because she could. She would fight me every step of every day. She would ruin me, ruin the ranch, just because she hates me that much.”

“What if you sold all your percentage to your brother before filing for a divorce?” she asked.

“That’s called dissipation of assets and, while not technically illegal, it’s unethical and frowned upon.”

“So is infidelity,” she said. “I’m not saying she should walk away with nothing here, but if you sold to your brother, you could give her half the cash value of the ranch. I think any judge would see that as fair. It’s not like she’d be empty handed, and I’m guessing you’d rather see the cash go than your family land.”

“That’s true,” he said. “And Cam has enough in his trust to cover at least Is’s half of the ranch. I could pay him back in increments.”

“Of course it would mean having to tell him the truth.”

“I’m guessing by your disapproving tone you believe I should have done that from the beginning,” he said.

“I’m a marine. We’re kind of big on the truth,” she said. “You know, honor, faithfulness, etcetera.”

“Sounds like I should have married a marine and saved myself the trouble of a beauty queen,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, and he laughed.

“Tell me, little bit, if you’re so hep on marines, why aren’t you married to one?”

“Two marines in one family, that’s a tricky combination, sir. And I’ve never found a civilian who measures up.”

“Measures up to what?” he asked.

“My exacting standards,” she said.

“As someone who chose poorly, let me commend you on that and advise you not to settle,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, and they finished their meal in contemplative silence.

Chapter 7

The next morning Cal drove Bailey to town, more than an hour away. Bailey stared quietly out the window the entire time while Cal drank his coffee and tried to wake up. It had been a sleepless night after Isabel’s visit; it always was. Regret had a way of keeping him awake, regret and pain and worry for the future. He’d wasted a decade of his life on a woman who didn’t love him, who refused to give him children. There was no way to get those years back, no way to make amends for the damage he’d done to himself. The only thing he could do from here was to protect the remainder of his family from Hurricane Isabel.

He returned his coffee to the console and saw Bailey’s hand resting idly between them. All of a sudden he was tempted to reach out and take it, and he was both surprised and repulsed by the temptation. He was the sort of man who demanded perfection from himself and usually got it—perfect discipline, perfect control, perfect performance. So it always came as something of a surprise when some wild urge sprang out of him—the desire to hit Isabel, the desire to take Bailey’s hand and, not just that, but to reach for her, to pull her to his side of the truck and kiss her. It had been a long time since he kissed Isabel and even longer since he kissed anyone else. And hemissed it, missed the intimacy of being with a woman, both physically and otherwise. He missed sharing his life with someone. Was he attracted to Bailey merely because she was handy or was it something deeper? Either way, she was off limits to him. His wedding band served as a constant reminder of that.

So deep was he in his thoughts about her that he jumped like a nervous jackrabbit when her hand landed lightly on his arm.

“I think you missed our stop, boss.”

He came to and looked around, realizing as he did so that he’d driven straight through town. “Sorry, my mind was,” he turned to face her, his glance falling to her lips, “somewhere else.”

“Hmm,” she replied and turned her gaze out the window. He began to wonder how many things she was saying when she said that because she said it a lot, in multiple different tones. “Who am I meeting with today?”

“Sully Langford, our local Texas Ranger,” he said.

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