Stealing Hearts (Wild at Heart #1)(70)

My husband nods. “Yes, sir. We’ll be ready.”

“No trouble fattening up your herd?”

“No. They’re looking good.”

Stepping back, I motion behind me. “I’m going to say hi to some friends and let you chat.”

I say a little prayer my husband has all the right words to inspire Harlan’s confidence. We’re so close to our goal, and I don’t want anything to go wrong.





35





RHETT




The moment my wife walks away, Harlan’s eyes go hard. He turns to me and lowers his voice. “Can we speak privately for a moment?”

Unease settles over me as I follow him a few feet away from Prescott and Jimmy, off to the side of the stage. “Is something wrong?”

“I need to ask you a question.” After I nod, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigar. It’s illegal to smoke in the downtown area, but no one’s gonna tell Harlan his business. “How long have you known Paige?”

Shit. This can’t be good. “For years. I was best friends with her brother, Danny, before he passed away. Why?”

He cants his head as he studies me. “Son, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have it on good authority she was dating someone else until recently. Until just before you two got married.” He pulls out a trimmer and clips off the head of his cigar.

So that little dickhead Marcus finally spilled the beans? I try to look unaffected by Harlan’s words. I shrug like I don’t give a damn because I don’t, but I have to tread carefully since Marcus is his nephew. “She told me about her ex. As I understand it, things were over for a while before they officially broke up. The truth is I’ve always been fond of Paige. Sure, we moved a little fast, but when you know, you know. I dated my first wife for years, and I did everything by the book, but we were miserable from the start. I thought I’d do things differently this time.”

He chuckles as he stares across the dance floor where my wife is talking to Frannie Tate. “Can’t say I blame you for locking her down. She’s a pretty little thing.”

I fight like hell not to bristle. I don’t really care for any man checking out my wife, but I try not to take offense. “I’ve never been happier.” And that’s the God’s honest truth.

Harlan pats me on the back. “I’m glad to hear that. Since your father is gone, rest his soul, I felt like someone should be looking out for you and your brothers. I’d be remiss not to mention it.”

“I appreciate your concern, sir, but you don’t need to worry. My wife is the best thing to happen to me. She supports the ranch and loves my kids. She even organized my office.”

“God bless her. If your office is anything like mine at home…” he chuckles as he pulls out a gold lighter engraved with his initials. “Would you care for a cigar? I always carry an extra one. It’s from my personal collection I import from Cuba. Nobody smokes them right anymore. You need a soft flame to light them. This lighter here has a split flame valve to accommodate the width of the cigar.”

“I’d better not. You enjoy it.” Itching for this conversation to be over, I hold out my hand. “Thank you for the talk. It’s nice to know you have my back.”

We shake, and he tilts his head. “So I’ll see you in, what, nine days?”

“It’s circled red on my calendar.” I can’t fucking wait to repay this loan. I hate lying to Harlan. Granted, Paige and I are working out, but I don’t like being dishonest.

Nodding, he leans forward. “Good because I don’t give extensions. I have another project I’m looking to invest in, but I’d like to have your loan repaid first. Our bank is different because I always make sure we have plenty of capital on hand. Call me old fashioned, but my grandfather started this bank and weathered the Great Depression by not taking on too much risk.”

“Harlan, I appreciate you taking a chance on me. I won’t let you down.”

And I mean it.





36





PAIGE




“I’m thrilled you and Rhett are doing well,” Judge Tate says as she wraps me in a hug. “Call me next week so I can add you to our quilting group.”

“I’ve only made a baby quilt, and it wasn’t fancy,” I admit.

She waves her hand. “Sylvia Reyes says you’re a fantastic seamstress. You’ll learn advanced techniques in no time.” Leaning in, she whispers, “We call it the Sewers and Sippers Society because we like our margaritas.”

I laugh. “Sounds like fun.”

After I jot her number in my cell, I go in search of fried dough. The festival is getting crowded, and as I weave around a large group, I run into Irma and Ty. My stomach tightens, and I force a smile. “Hi. How are y’all?”

Ty gives me a genuine grin. “Great. I just finished selling off the rest of our puppies. I’m making bank.”

I hate that he’s running a puppy mill. “What about the mama dogs? How much time do you give them between litters?”

Irma rolls her eyes. “They’re just dogs.”

“Mom, don’t talk like that.” Ty shakes his head. “This is my last batch. I’m getting tired of cleaning up crap all the time. I’m gonna invest the money and do something else.”