Page 11 of Tough Enough


  “Lower his pride?” Margaret was flabbergasted by that interpretation of events. “You think that’s what Rafe did when he went to Seattle to fetch me down here?”

  “Of course.”

  “Julie, it wasn’t anything like that at all. Not that it’s anyone else’s business, but the truth is, I was virtually blackmailed and kidnapped. I didn’t notice Rafe having to surrender one square inch of his pride.”

  “Then you don’t know my brother very well,” Julie said. She put her hand on Sean’s arm. “But I shouldn’t say anything. It’s between you and Rafe. Mom may have been right, maybe Rafe did need the jolt you gave him. He’s accustomed to having things his way and it’s no secret that people cater to him. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s human and he can be hurt. And he’s got a thing about loyalty.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about protecting your big brother,” Sean murmured. “Something tells me he can take care of himself.”

  Julie groaned. “You’re right. Besides, right now I’ve got my own problems with him. To tell you the truth, Margaret, I’m inclined to sympathize with you at the moment. Rafe can be extremely bullheaded when it comes to his own opinions. I haven’t dared tell him yet just how serious Sean and I are. He thinks we’re just dating casually, but the truth is Sean and I are going to get married whether Rafe approves or not.”

  “Give Rafe a chance to know Sean.” Margaret smiled at the artist. “He’s really fairly reasonable about most things, once you get his full attention.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’m sure you know as well as I do that folks in the business world have a hard time understanding people in the art world.”

  “True.” Sean’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “And the situation isn’t improved any by the fact that Cassidy is basically a cowboy who happens to be a genius when it comes to business. Maybe I should invite him to a showing of some of my work. Then he could at least judge me on the basis of my art. If he’s going to criticize me, he might as well know what he’s talking about.”

  “But Rafe hates modern art,” Julie exclaimed.

  “He’s fully capable of appreciating it if he puts his mind to it,” Margaret said. She remembered the discussion she’d had with Rafe on good wine and good hotels. “He may be a cowboy at heart, but he’s very good at moving in different worlds when he feels like it.”

  Julie eyed her thoughtfully. “You’ve got a point. My brother likes to play the redneck when it suits him, but I’ve heard him talk European politics with businessmen from England and Germany and I’ve even seen him eat sushi with some Japanese distributors.”

  Margaret looked up at Sean. “Letting him see your work is not a bad idea at all, Sean. When’s the next scheduled exhibition of your work?”

  Julie interrupted before Sean could reply. “There’s one on Monday evening at the gallery here in town that handles Sean’s work. Do you think you could convince Rafe to come?”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Margaret promised.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Julie.” Sean’s voice was gentle. “Even if Margaret gets him there we can’t expect him to instantly change his mind about me.”

  “No,” Julie agreed, “but it would at least be a sign that he’s willing to give you a chance. Margaret, if you can pull this off, I will definitely owe you one.”

  Margaret laughed, feeling completely relaxed around Julie for the first time since she had met her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Julie turned to Sean. “Look, the band is starting up again. Let’s dance.”

  “All right. I could use a few more lessons in Western swing. If I’m going to marry a ranch girl, I’d better learn a few of the ropes.” Sean put down his glass. He nodded at Margaret. “Thanks,” he said as he took Julie’s arm.

  “No problem. Us nonbusiness types sometimes have to stick together.”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  Margaret watched the handsome couple disappear into the throng of people dancing on the patio. She was idly tapping her foot and wondering where Rafe was when she suddenly became aware of Doug Hatcher standing behind her. She turned to smile brightly at him, thinking that he was about to ask her to dance. But his first remark dispelled that illusion.

  “You’re settling in very quickly around here, aren’t you?” Doug’s words were carefully enunciated, as if he was afraid of slurring them.

  Margaret felt a frisson of uneasiness. “Hello, Doug. I didn’t see you there. Enjoying the party?” She eyed the half-empty glass in his hand and the careful way he was holding himself and wondered if he was a little drunk. She realized she had never before seen him drink anything at all.

  “You’ve definitely moved in on the Cassidy clan.” Doug took a long pull on his drink. “You’re changing things around here.”

  “I am?”

  “Don’t be so modest, Miss Lark.” Doug stared at her and nodded, as if at some private understanding. “Yeah. You’ve changed him all right.”

  “Are we talking about Rafe?”

  “He’s different now.”

  “In what way, Doug?”

  “Getting soft.”

  “Soft? Rafe?” She was genuinely startled by that comment.

  “It’s true.” Doug nodded again, frowning. “When I first went to work for him he was like a knife. He’d just cut through everything in his path. But a year ago things changed. Oh, we put together a couple of good deals this past year, but it’s not like the old days. I thought it was going to be all right for the first few months but then he decided he wanted you back.”

  “He talked about me to you?”

  Doug shook his head, the gesture slightly exaggerated. “He didn’t have to. I know him. I knew what he was thinking about and it wasn’t about business. Like I said, he’s gone soft, lost his edge. When he does think about business, he only thinks about one thing these days.” He turned abruptly, caught himself as he nearly lost his balance and then vanished into the crowd.

  Margaret took a deep breath as she dared to hope that the one thing Rafe thought about most these days was her. She didn’t expect him to spend the rest of his life focusing entirely on her, she told herself. She fully understood that he had a major corporation to run and a ranch to manage. She had no intention of being unreasonable.

  But it was comforting to know that there was growing evidence that she was finally important enough to him to make him alter his normal way of doing business. A year ago she had not been at all certain she held that much significance in his life.

  “You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Maggie, love.” Rafe materialized out of the crowd and took her hand to lead her onto the dance floor. “Can I conclude that the thought of engagement parties in general no longer is enough to send you running for cover?”

  She smiled up at him, aware of the sheer pleasure of being in his arms. His beautifully controlled physical strength was one of the most compelling qualities he possessed. She loved being wrapped up in it. “I’m having a great time at this one,” she admitted.

  “One of these days we’ll start planning another one.”

  His certainty always left her feeling breathless. “Will we?”

  “Yeah, Maggie, love. We will.”

  “I thought I was going to get plenty of time to make up my mind.”

  “I promised you a little time to get used to the idea of marrying me, but don’t expect me to give you an unlimited amount of rope. Knowing you, you’d just get yourself all tangled up in it.”

  She shook her head in wry wonder. “You are always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “I am when I know what I want.” Rafe came to a halt in the middle of the dance floor. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to make the big announcement. I’ve been assigned to do the honors.”

  “Doesn’t it seem a little odd that you’re announcing your own mother’s engagement?”

  “We live in interesting times.” He kissed her forehea
d. “Be back in a few minutes.”

  The crowd broke into loud applause and cheers as Rafe grabbed a bottle of champagne, vaulted up onto the diving board and strode out to the far end. He held up the bottle in his hand to get the crowd’s attention.

  “You all know why you’re here tonight, but I’ve been told to make it official,” he began with a grin. “I would therefore like to say that it gives me great pleasure to do as my Mama tells me and announce her engagement to one smooth-talking cowboy named Connor Lark.”

  A roar of approval went up. Rafe gave the crowd a couple of minutes to grow quiet once more before he continued.

  “I’m here to tell you folks that I’ve got no choice but to approve of this match. It’s not just because I’ve had Lark checked out and decided he can take care of my mama in the style to which she has become accustomed—”

  The crowd interrupted with a burst of applause.

  “And it’s not just because she seems to actually like the guy or the fact that he’s crazy about her. No, folks, I am giving my heartfelt approval to this match because Lark has informed me that if I do not, he will personally drag me out into the desert and stake me out over an anthill. Folks, I am a reasonable man. I want you to know I can hardly wait for Connor Lark to marry my mother.”

  Laughter filled the air as Rafe let the cork out of the champagne bottle with a suitable explosion. Again the crowd yelled approval. Connor, standing at the side of the pool next to Bev, grinned broadly at Rafe as he held a glass up to be filled with bubbling champagne.

  Rafe filled the glass with a flourish and then a second one for his mother and everyone toasted the guests of honor. Connor finished his drink in one swallow and kissed his fiancée. Then he gave a whoop and grabbed her hand.

  “Honey, let’s dance,” Connor crowed, sweeping Bev into a waltz. She laughed up at him with undisguised delight.

  “They make a great couple, don’t they?” Rafe leaped lightly down from the diving board and went to stand beside Margaret. He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side.

  “Yes,” Margaret said, her eyes on her father’s face. “They do. I think they’re going to be very happy.”

  “No happier than you and me, Maggie, love, you’ll see.” Rafe kissed her soundly and then dragged her over to the section of the patio that was being used for dancing. He smiled down into her eyes as he whirled her into the Western waltz.

  A moment later the patio was filled with dancing couples and Margaret gave herself up to the joy of the music that flowed around her like champagne. Yes, she allowed herself to think for the first time in a year, yes, she could be very happy with Rafe. She could be the happiest woman in the world.

  RAFE SAW HATCHER HANGING BACK as the last of the guests took their leave. He scowled at his assistant, wondering if Doug had followed orders two hours ago and laid off the booze.

  “You sober enough to get behind the wheel, Hatcher?” he asked bluntly as the two men stood isolated on one side of the front drive.

  “I’m fine,” Hatcher muttered. “Haven’t had anything but soda for the past couple of hours. Just wanted to tell you I left the Ellington file in your study. You’d better take a look at it as soon as possible.”

  Rafe eyed him. “Something new come up?”

  Hatcher nodded, his eyes sliding away to follow the last car out of the drive. “Today. I’ve updated the file so you can take a look for yourself. I didn’t want to say anything before the party. Seemed a shame to ruin it for you.”

  “Since when have I ever asked you to shield me from bad news? That’s not what I pay you to do and you know it.”

  Hatcher’s jaw tightened. “I know, but this is different, Rafe.”

  “What am I going to be looking at when I open the file?”

  Hatcher hesitated. “The possibility that we’ve got a leak.”

  “Damn it to hell. You sure?”

  “No, not entirely. Could be a coincidence that Moorcroft came up with the numbers he did today, but we’ve got to look at the other possibility.”

  “Someone gave him the information.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Rafe watched the last set of taillights disappear down his long drive. “I thought we had this airtight, Hatcher.”

  “I thought we did, too.”

  “When I find out who’s selling me out, I’ll do a little bloodletting. Hope whoever it is realizes what he’s risking.”

  “We don’t know for sure yet, Rafe,” Hatcher said quickly. “It really could be a genuine coincidence. But regardless of how it happened, there’s no getting around the fact that we’ve got to counter Moorcroft’s last move and fast. Thought you’d want to run the numbers yourself.”

  “I’ll do it tonight and have an answer in the morning. Nothing gets in the way of this Ellington thing, understand? It has to go through on schedule.”

  “Right, well, guess I’d better be off.” Hatcher nodded once more and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Rafe stood for a while in the balmy darkness watching Hatcher’s car vanish in the distance.

  Vengeance was a curious thing, he acknowledged. It had the same ability to obsess a man’s soul as love did.

  “Rafe?”

  He turned toward the sound of Maggie’s soft, questioning voice. She looked so beautiful standing there in the doorway with the lights of the house behind her. His beautiful, proud Maggie. He needed her more than the desert needed the fierce storms of late summer. Without her, he was an empty man.

  And if she ever realized what he was going to do to Moorcroft, she’d be furious. There was even a possibility she’d try to run from him again. He had to be careful, Rafe told himself. This was between him and Moorcroft, anyway. A little matter of vengeance and honor that had to be settled properly.

  “I’m coming, Maggie, love.” He started toward the doorway. “Mom and Dad still out waltzing by the pool?”

  Margaret laughed. “Without a band? No, I think they gave up the waltzing in favor of getting some sleep before leaving for Sedona in the morning.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Rafe said.

  “What?”

  “Sleep. I could use some myself and so could you. Good night, Maggie, love.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Forty minutes later he watched from the other side of the patio as Margaret’s light went out. For a short time he toyed with the idea of going to her room.

  But the file waiting in his office was too important to ignore. He’d told Hatcher he’d have an answer by tomorrow morning.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MARGARET FOUND SLEEP impossible. She tossed and turned, listening to the small night sounds that drifted through her window. Her mind was not cluttered with the bright images of the successful party or thoughts of her father and his new love. She wasn’t thinking about any of the many things that could have been keeping her awake.

  All she could think about was Julie Cassidy’s remark concerning Rafe having overcome his hawklike pride in order to find a way to get Margaret back.

  The notion of Rafe Cassidy lowering his pride for a woman was literally stunning.

  Margaret stared up at the ceiling and realized she had never considered the events of the past few days in those terms. She had felt manipulated at first and there was no denying that to a great extent she had been.

  But what had it cost Rafe to admit to himself and everyone else that he wanted her back?

  She thought of all the times during those first few months after the disaster when she had almost picked up the phone and called him. Her own pride had stood in her way every time. She had nothing for which to apologize, she kept telling herself. She had done nothing wrong. She had tried to explain her side of the situation to Rafe and he had flatly refused to listen.

  And then he had said terrible things to her, things that still had the power to make her weep if she summoned them to the surface of her consciousness.
r />   No, she could never have made the call begging him to take her back and give her another chance. It would have meant sacrificing all of her pride and her sense of self-worth. Any man who required such an act of contrition was not worth having.

  But it was a novelty to think that in some fashion Rafe’s apparently high-handed actions lately bespoke a lowering of his own pride. Margaret realized she had never thought of it in that light.

  It was true he had not actually admitted that he had been wrong last year. Other than to apologize grudgingly for his rough treatment of her, he had basically stuck to his belief that she was the one who was guilty of betrayal; the one who required forgiveness.

  But there was also no denying that he was the one who had finally found a way to get them back together.

  Of course, Margaret told herself, somewhat amused, being Rafe, he had found a way to do it that had not required an abject plea from him. Nevertheless, he had done it. They were back together, at least for now, and Rafe was talking about marriage as seriously as ever.

  What’s more, he really did seem to have changed. He was definitely making an effort to limit his attention to business. The Rafe she had seen so far this week was a different man than the one she had known last year in that respect. The old Rafe would never have taken the time to get so completely involved in organizing his mother’s engagement party. Nor would he have spent as much time entertaining a recalcitrant lover.

  Lover.

  The word hovered in Margaret’s mind. Whatever else he was, Rafe was indisputably the lover of her dreams.

  She had missed being with him last night. She and Bev had sat up talking until very late and then retired. Margaret had toyed with the notion of waiting until the lights were out and then gliding across the patio to Rafe’s room. But when she had finally glanced out into the darkness she had seen the two familiar figures splashing softly in the pool and quickly changed her mind. Her father and Bev had already commandeered the patio for a late-night tryst.