Kitabı oxu: «Smoky Mountain Home»
Giving in to Jonah now would make it that much harder to hold out against him in the fight for her barn
Ruth Ann leaned back, pulling away from his mesmerizing kiss. His hold loosened, but instead of stopping, he took the kisses from her lips to her cheeks, her eyes and her chin, which was almost as devastating.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “You don’t.” Pushing him, she managed a step backward. And another, breaking the circle of his arms.
Jonah stood motionless, staring at her. Finally he took a deep breath and straightened. “You’re right. The situation is complicated and what just happened didn’t make anything better. My apologies.” Walking past her, he left the stall. Moments later she heard a truck engine start.
She simply couldn’t afford to leave herself vulnerable where Jonah Granger was concerned.
Dear Reader,
Like many little girls, I enjoyed a love affair with horses. I read Black Beauty and also loved historical novels, where the characters went everywhere on horseback or in carriages. Like most teenagers, however, I eventually got busy with homework and boys, and my horse obsession died away.
Or so I thought. When my own daughter wanted to ride, I drove her to the stable. While glancing around at the pastures, I was hit by a wave of intense longing. The stable owner walked up, we introduced ourselves and I said, “Can I ride, too?”
That was almost eight years ago. These days I’m the devoted caretaker of five horses and twenty-two acres of land. I believed I’d left my junior high school dreams of a life with horses behind. Now I can’t imagine living without them.
The heroine of Smoky Mountain Home, Ruth Ann Blakely, shares my passion for horses. She’s also passionate about Jonah Granger—passionately opposed to his plan to replace her beloved, historic stable with a new equestrian center. Yet she’s desperately in love with the man himself. Does Ruth Ann have to sacrifice her past in order to have a future with Jonah?
I hope you enjoy spending time with Ruth Ann, Jonah and all the horse characters I had fun creating for this story. I love to hear from readers—please feel free to contact me at my Web site, www.lynnette-kent.com, or by letter in care of Harlequin American Romance.
Happy reading!
Lynnette Kent
Smoky Mountain Home
Lynnette Kent
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lynnette Kent began writing her first romance in the fourth grade, about a ship’s stowaway who would fall in love with her captain, Christopher Columbus. Years of scribbling later, her husband suggested she write one of those “Harlequin romances” she loved to read. With his patience and her two daughters’ support, Lynnette realized her dream of being a published novelist. She now lives in North Carolina, where she divides her time between books—writing and reading—and the horses she adores. Feel free to contact Lynnette via her Web site, www.lynnette-kent.com or write her at P.O. Box 1012, Vass, NC 28394.
For Angela,
consummate horsewoman and incomparable friend
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
Jonah Granger was exactly what she’d expected.
His straight black hair had been styled into a perfect tousle, no doubt at a salon in New York City which had charged two hundred dollars for the privilege. He wore gray flannel slacks with a dark-brown turtleneck sweater, probably cashmere, and managed to look artistic but still businesslike while showing off his strong, square shoulders and his flat belly. Add in Italian loafers and a discreet, hideously expensive gold watch. Everything about the man screamed class and money.
Ruth Ann Blakely gritted her teeth as she watched the architect explain his design, and watched The Hawkridge School’s board of directors melt under the warmth of his smile. Even Jayne Thomas, their usually pragmatic headmistress, seemed swept away by the grandiose plans displayed on Jonah Granger’s easel.
“Thirty-foot ceilings,” he was saying, “for air circulation and light, with a series of archways creating unique visual effects.”
“Like a Gothic cathedral.” Board chairwoman Miriam Edwards sighed. “How wonderful.”
Ruth Ann rolled her eyes.
“Exactly,” Granger said, aiming the spotlight of his attention right at Miriam. “The clerestory windows provide ventilation in the summer and a solar-heating effect in the winter.”
“Smart.” Harry Hopkins nodded. “Save on the heating bills.”
Examining the backs of her hands, which testified to twenty-five or so winters spent working in an unheated stable, Ruth Ann bit her lower lip to keep from laughing.
“The stall floors will be textured concrete, but the aisles of the stable will be paved with brick.”
Oh, no, they won’t. Ruth Ann shifted in her chair. My horses aren’t spending their lives standing on concrete, not even if it’s underneath the mats you haven’t mentioned.
“I’ve provided a lounge for parents and students.” Granger flipped the page to reveal an artistic rendering of what looked like a nightclub. “Sofas for conversation, tables and chairs for meals prepared in the full-sized kitchen equipped with marble counter tops and professional appliances, plus a complete audio-video system.”
Ruth Ann burst out laughing.
The thirteen board members sitting around the conference table turned to stare at her. Jonah Granger raised his straight black eyebrows and looked down the slope of his nose at her. “Is something funny?”
She tried to control herself, but whenever she glanced at the drawing, she couldn’t help another cackle. “S-sorry,” she said finally, wiping her eyes. “That’s a—a really nice room.”
“Thank—”
“If you’re building a house or a hotel,” she interrupted. “But my barn doesn’t need so much—” she waved a hand “—stuff.”
Those slashing brows moved higher. “Your barn?”
Jayne Thomas cleared her throat. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce you, because Ms. Blakely arrived after the presentation started. Jonah Granger, this is Ruth Ann Blakely, The Hawkridge School’s equestrian trainer and instructor.”
“Ah.” Jonah Granger sent her a cool nod. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Blakely. I’m sure we’ll be able to work well together.”
“I’m not.” Ruth Ann got to her feet. “This so-called stable you’ve designed might be pretty, but it won’t work for horses or their caretakers. On the other hand, the stable we use now was designed by people who understood the art and science of equines.” She glanced around the conference table, making eye contact with the few board members who weren’t pretending to study their notes. “All my barn needs is some renovation and restoration to make it as good as new. If you’d like to discuss those possibilities, Mr. Granger, I’ll be more than happy to talk with you. But I’m not signing off on a new barn that’s more about looking good in the parent brochure than about caring for the animals and giving the girls safe, productive lessons.”
She left the conference room by the nearest door, and congratulated herself for not tripping or running into a chair on her way out. Sometimes her feet forgot their main job, especially when she was nervous. Facing down Jonah Granger had definitely made her nervous. He was so cool, so controlled, so…
“Arrogant,” she muttered as she reached the grand circular staircase descending to the first floor. “Contemptuous. Conceited.” Her riding boots sounded like the horses themselves as she hurried down the marble steps. “Egotis—”
She stopped moving and muttering as she rounded the curve and saw a girl sitting on the bottom step. “Hello, there. Can I help you?”
The girl turned to look at her as she came the rest of the way to ground level. “No, thank you. I’m just waiting.” She would be about thirteen, with dark hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, a round face and a chubby body dressed in tank top and jeans a size too small.
“Waiting for what?” Ruth Ann leaned an elbow on the newel post. The fall semester didn’t start for another week, and all the students had left campus for a brief vacation.
“My stepfather.” The girl stared straight ahead. “Mr. Granger.”
“Ah.” That might explain the odd air of withdrawal, as if she’d walled herself off from the rest of the world. He’d be a demanding parent, which played hell with an adolescent’s self-esteem, in Ruth Ann’s experience. “I just left that meeting. He should be finished in a few minutes.”
A nod was the only response. But then, with a sideways glance at her breeches and boots, the girl said, “You ride? Horses?”
“I’m the trainer here. Do you ride?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I mean, I do, kinda. But it’s really scary.”
“Maybe you haven’t had the right horse. What’s your name?”
After hesitating a moment, she said, “Darcy.”
Ruth Ann offered a handshake. “I’m Ruth Ann Blakely. Good to meet you, Darcy.”
Jonah Granger hadn’t taught his stepdaughter how to shake properly. She barely grazed Ruth Ann’s palm with her own, then let her arm fall back to her lap.
The approach of voices from upstairs announced that the meeting had ended. Darcy jerked her head up, got to her feet, and scurried to the other side of the entry hall, like a mouse caught on the counter when the kitchen light comes on.
Ruth Ann’s temper started to simmer again. What had the man done to make this girl so nervous?
Flanked by board members, Jonah Granger came down the stairs, carrying his big box of useless drawings and smiling at the compliments of people who wouldn’t know a hoof pick from a hay hook. At the bottom, he spoke with each and every one of them as they left by the front door, before finally deigning to notice his stepdaughter.
“Darcy, there you are.” He grinned at the girl and summoned her with a gesture. “I thought you’d still be in the library.”
To Ruth Ann’s surprise, Darcy moved quickly to join him. “I didn’t feel like reading. I went for a walk instead.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Did you like what you saw?”
The girl shrugged. “It’s pretty.”
“When you come back to start classes,” Jayne Thomas said, “you’ll get an extensive tour, and you can see how beautiful Hawkridge really is. We have hiking paths on the mountain and, of course, the riding trails.” The lift of her eyebrow in Ruth Ann’s direction promised a reprimand as soon as they had a private moment.
But Ruth Ann was more interested in the fact that Darcy would be attending Hawkridge. “Maybe you’d like to sign up for some lessons,” she told the girl. “I promise to keep you safe, and you’ll have a good time.”
Jonah Granger’s smile vanished. “Darcy’s had her fill of horseback accidents, I believe. But she’s an excellent pianist, and plays several other instruments, too.”
The teenager gazed at her toes, their nails painted a glittery blue.
“She’ll have lots of choices,” Jayne promised, with a warning glance at Ruth Ann, who had opened her mouth to protest. “And lots of time to decide what she wants to do.” Setting a hand lightly on Granger’s shoulder, she ushered him toward the door. “You’ll be coming in from New York next week—”
Aha! Ruth Ann thought.
“—to bring Darcy for Moving-In Day. Let’s arrange another meeting then. We can review your plans in more detail. Ruth Ann will give us her input at that time.”
From the double doorway, Jonah Granger threw Ruth Ann a glance that could have been called challenging. Or just spitting mad.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he told the headmistress, his voice as smooth as black ice.
Jayne went outside with Granger and Darcy. Staying within the shadows, Ruth Ann peeked around the door frame in time to see the architect and his daughter fold themselves into a dark-blue Porsche. With a roar of the engine and a squeal of tires, the sports car streaked around the circular drive.
“Showoff,” Ruth Ann muttered. “Just what I’d expect.”
Jayne remained on the front steps until the forest surrounding them hid the Porsche from sight. Returning to the entry hall, she closed the doors and stood for a moment facing the carved mahogany panels, holding onto the big brass handles.
Ruth Ann decided not to wait for the lecture to start. “Look, I’m sorry I was late. I scheduled the vet visit for one o’clock three months ago, but he had an emergency and didn’t arrive until after two. I couldn’t just walk off and leave him with six horses to handle on his own. Nobody consulted me when they set up this meeting.” She gave a disgusted sniff. “Not surprising. The board would probably have preferred I never show up at all.”
“Especially when you started talking.” Jayne crossed the marble-tiled entry hall and entered the school’s office suite. “Let’s go to my office and sit down.”
Once they’d settled into the chairs on either side of Jayne’s big desk, she shook her head. “Your opposition to the new stable doesn’t make a lot of sense, Ruth Ann. Why wouldn’t you want a new building with all the amenities? Surely an up-to-date facility would make your job easier?”
Ruth Ann propped her elbows on the armrests and stared at her linked fingers as she constructed the answer in her head.
“Why don’t we tear down the Manor and build a new, state-of-the-art classroom building? We could have computer hookups at every seat, modern labs for the science classes, high-tech recordings for the language teachers, an auditorium and a dining room and—”
Laughing, Jayne held up a hand. “Enough, already. I agree—there’s a great deal of historic value in all of the buildings on the estate, including the stable.” She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out again. “The board—”
“Meaning Miriam Edwards.”
“The board,” Jayne repeated firmly, “believes the current facility is unsafe for the students.”
Ruth Ann characterized that opinion with a single rude word.
“Maybe,” Jayne conceded with a tilt of her head. “We’ve never had an accident involving the building itself. And,” she said before Ruth Ann could, “we’ve never had a girl seriously hurt while riding. You’re a great trainer and instructor, Ruth Ann. You’re a terrific therapist—you and your horses have made a real difference for a number of girls the rest of us had just about given up on.” The Hawkridge School served as a refuge and, often, a last resort for girls whose emotional problems had driven them into troublesome, even dangerous, behavior.
Blinking hard, Ruth Ann said, “I’m glad. I love my job.”
“Good. What we’re going to have to do is find some way to compromise on the stable. I don’t know what that means, yet, except that you’ll need to cooperate with Jonah Granger as he works on the design.”
“Why can’t he design a renovation?” Ruth Ann sat forward in her chair. “The old barn needs some work, some updating, sure. Can’t Granger simply fix what’s wrong and leave what’s right?”
“That’s not what he does.”
“Then find someone who will.”
“The board wants Granger. He built a house and barn for Miriam’s sister up in Connecticut, and she’s just wild about his work.”
“So let him build something new for her. He can leave my barn alone.”
Jayne’s brown eyes were kind, but she said, “It’s not actually your barn, Ruth Ann.”
“My dad took care of it until the day he died. Literally—his heart stopped while he was sweeping the aisle that night.”
“I know.”
“My grandfather and his father before him worked in that barn taking care of the estate’s horses. How am I supposed to walk away from that?”
“It’s just stone and wood, sweetie. You and the horses are what matters. Those would be the same in a new stable.”
“I don’t think so.” Ruth Ann got to her feet. “Call me superstitious or just plain weird, but my barn is a special place. The horses know it and the girls know it—the ones who really care, anyway. Moving the equestrian program to a new stable would be a mistake.”
Jayne stood up. “As a friend, I’m asking you to cooperate. Please…for my sake?”
Ruth Ann frowned at her. “Unfair.” Then she sighed. “Okay. For your sake, I will listen to what he has to say. Are you going to ask him to do the same?”
“Of course.”
“For all the good that will do,” Ruth Ann muttered, once she’d closed the office door between herself and the headmistress. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar that Jonah Granger listens to no one’s opinion but his own!”
RUTH ANN BLAKELY was not what he’d anticipated.
Jonah admitted he’d been expecting someone like his ex-wife, Darcy’s mother—slim and neat, with polished boots, hair combed into a sleek ponytail and a lipstick smile. More, he’d expected to be listened to, consulted, and then given the go-ahead on the stable project.
Instead, she’d laughed at him, dammit. Made fun of his plans. He simply couldn’t believe it. What did she know about architecture, anyway? She spent her days mucking out stalls and teaching kids to ride. Who did she think she was, criticizing his work?
He’d known she was trouble as soon as she entered the conference room—late, to begin with—after Jayne Thomas had introduced him and he’d started his presentation. Her skepticism, her resistance to his project, had surrounded her like a force field. He doubted a word he’d said had gotten through.
She certainly hadn’t gone to any trouble to impress him. She’d stalked in wearing riding breeches, dusty boots and a T-shirt with a huge green smear across the front, as if some horse had used her for its napkin. Face shaded by the baseball cap she hadn’t taken off, her damp ponytail drooping through the hole in the back, she’d conveyed quite clearly that he was interrupting her important work. As she’d stomped out again, he’d noticed that she was tall, well built on generous lines, and furious.
Well, that made two of them.
Darcy stirred in the seat beside him, and Jonah realized he should be talking with her instead of silently venting his frustrations. “So what did you think of the school?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay.”
He refused to be daunted. “The Hawkridge estate was built in the early 1900s as a wealthy businessman’s personal home. His daughter turned it into a school in the 1960s.”
His stepdaughter yawned. “Looks like a castle. Maybe it’s haunted.”
Jonah chuckled. “Maybe.” When she didn’t say anything else, he tried again. “I thought the headmistress was pleasant. She doesn’t seem like the type to be hiding instruments of torture in her office.”
After a long silence, Darcy said, “The riding teacher was nice.”
So much for diverting his thoughts from the belligerent Ms. Blakely. “What did you talk about?”
“Riding. She said the right horse would make it less scary.”
Nice of her, giving an opinion on something she knew nothing about. On the other hand, Darcy needed all the encouragement she could get. “Maybe you can do some riding when you’re at school.”
“Mom told me I was useless around horses.”
“Your mother…” Jonah clamped down on the impulse to speak his mind concerning his ex-wife. “She was upset that day, Darcy. You’d just fallen off and broken your arm. The horse was still running loose. You know she didn’t mean what she said.”
He glanced over, and saw that Darcy’s long-fingered hands were clamped into fists in her lap. “She said it later, too. While they were putting the cast on my arm.”
“Damn her.” This time the curse erupted before he could stop it. He couldn’t believe even Brittany would be so cruel to her own daughter. Brittany, of course, hadn’t bothered to confess what she’d said until a month later, while they sat on opposite sides of the emergency room waiting for the doctors to pump half a bottle of pain pills out of Darcy’s stomach.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Obviously, I have some serious problems with your mother, or else I’d still be married to her.” He wanted to share a smile with Darcy, but she was staring out the window. “You’re with me now, so don’t worry about getting hassled like that anymore.”
She didn’t turn around. Finally, though, she murmured, “The teachers…”
“The teachers at Hawkridge are there to help you, and not just with schoolwork. They’re more like friends you can count on to listen and support you when you’re having problems.” He hoped so, anyway, for Darcy’s sake. No thirteen-year-old girl should be desperate enough to attempt suicide.
His stomach rumbled, and Jonah switched to a more cheerful topic. “It’s been a long afternoon and I’m starving. How do you feel about pizza for supper? I hear there’s a pretty good place in town. We could stop there before we go back to the hotel.”
Darcy gave him another of those defeated shrugs. “Pizza’s fattening.”
More of her mother’s wisdom, no doubt. “We’ll walk around town afterwards, look in the shop windows and work off the calories.” His stepdaughter didn’t answer. “Or we could go swimming in the hotel’s heated pool.”
“I can’t wear a swimsuit.”
“Darcy…” Jonah started to protest, but pulled himself up short. He wasn’t sure what the right response would be—as the only child of two only children, he lacked the sisters and female cousins who might have provided experience. His instincts about women were obviously lousy, otherwise he would never have gotten involved with Brittany…or Cindi or Annelise or Jacqueline…in the first place.
At least Brittany was the only mistake he’d married.
“Well,” he said, braking as they approached the town limit of Ridgeville, “most pizza restaurants offer salads, too. But I hope you’ll have a piece or two of the pizza. Otherwise, I’ll have to eat the whole thing myself. And then I’ll have to walk for hours to work it off. I might not get to sleep tonight.”
He thought he heard a snort of amusement from Darcy. He’d take that as progress.
But he hoped The Hawkridge School could do better. And he prayed that Jayne Thomas and her staff would show him how to avoid making mistakes with this fragile soul for whom he’d taken responsibility. Now that Brittany had transferred custody to him, he planned to move to Ridgeville within the next few weeks. Living nearby, and without his ex-wife’s constant interference, Jonah hoped he could learn to be the parent Darcy needed.
Business-wise, planning and construction of the school’s stable, along with his other projects in Atlanta and Charlotte, would allow him to start up his solo firm in North Carolina on a solid financial basis. Without the Hawkridge commission, though, he couldn’t cover his expenses. He’d have to spend another year in New York, working with his prima-donna boss and going not-so-quietly insane.
So whether she knew it or not, Ms. Ruth Ann Blakely held his future in her hands. If he didn’t win her support on the stable, he wouldn’t be his own boss for at least another year. More important, he wouldn’t be able to give Darcy the support he knew she needed.
But the argumentative, assertive Ms. Blakely would not be easy to win over. And given his lousy track record with women, Jonah didn’t have a clue what approach to take!
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
