many of our young breeding bulls,” she added for good measure.
He was very still. “King Brannt?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him, I gather.”
He didn’t reply. He turned on his heel and marched back to his car. But this time he didn’t spin his wheels.
Maddie almost fell over with relief.
Just as the developer left, another car drove up, a sleek Jaguar, black with silver trim. Maddie didn’t recognize it. Oh, dear, didn’t some hit men drive fancy cars…?
The door opened and big John Everett climbed out of the low-slung luxury car, holding on to his white Stetson so that it wouldn’t be dislodged from his thick head of blond hair. Maddie almost laughed with relief.
John grinned as he approached her. He had pale blue eyes, almost silver-colored, like his dad’s, and he was a real dish. He and Odalie both had their mother’s blond fairness, instead of Cole Everett’s dark hair and olive complexion.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he drawled. “Black cars make you twitchy or something?”
“I think hit men drive them, is all.”
He burst out laughing. “I’ve never shot one single person. A deer or two, maybe, in season.” He moved toward her and stopped, towering over her. His pale eyes were dancing on her flushed face. “I ran into King Brannt at a cattlemen’s association meeting last night. He said you were having some problems trying to work out your father’s breeding program. He said Cort explained it to you.”
“Uh, well, yes, sort of.” It was hard to admit that even taking notes, she hadn’t understood much of what Cort had told her.
“Cort tried to tutor me in biology in high school. I got a D on the test. He’s good at genetics, lousy at trying to explain them.” He shoved his hat back on his head and grinned. “So I thought, maybe I’ll come over and have a try at helping you understand it.”
“You’re a nice guy, John,” she said gently. And he was. At the height of his sister’s intimidation, John had been on Maddie’s side.
He shrugged. “I’m the flower of my family.” His face hardened. “Even if she is my sister, Odalie makes me ashamed sometimes. I haven’t forgotten the things she did to you.”
“We all make mistakes when we’re young,” she faltered, trying to be fair.
“You have a gentle nature,” he observed. “Like Cort’s mother. And mine,” he added with a smile. “Mom can’t bear to see anything hurt. She cried for days when your father’s lawyer came over and told her and Dad what Odalie had done to you.”
“I know. She called me. Your dad did, too. They’re good people.”
“Odalie might be a better person if she had a few disadvantages,” John said coldly. “As things stand, she’ll give in to Cort’s persuasion one day and marry him. He’ll be in hell for the rest of his life. The only person she’s ever really loved is herself.”
“That’s harsh, John,” she chided gently.
“It’s the truth, Maddie.” He swung his pointing finger at her nose. “You’re like my mother…she’d find one nice thing to say about the devil.” He smiled. “I’m in the mood to do some tutoring today. But I require payment. Your great-aunt makes a mean cup of coffee, and I’m partial to French vanilla.”
“That’s my favorite.”
He chuckled. “Mine, too.” He went back to the car, opened the passenger seat, took out a big box and a bag. “So since I drink a lot of it, I brought my own.”
She caught her breath. It was one of those European coffee machines that used pods. Maddie had always wanted one, but the price was prohibitive.
“Sad thing is it only brews one cup at a time, but we’ll compensate.” He grinned. “So lead the way to the kitchen and I’ll show you how to use it.”
Two cups of mouthwatering coffee later, they were sitting in Maddie’s father’s office, going over breeding charts. John found the blackboard her father had used to map out the genetics. He was able to explain it so simply that Maddie understood almost at once which herd sires to breed to which cows.
“You make it sound so simple!” she exclaimed. “You’re a wonder, John!”
He laughed. “It’s all a matter of simplification,” he drawled. He leaned back in the chair and sketched Maddie’s radiant face with narrowed pale blue eyes. “You sell yourself short. It’s not that you can’t understand. You just have to have things explained. Cort’s too impatient.”
She averted her eyes. Mention of Cort made her uneasy.
“Yes, he loses his temper,” John said thoughtfully. “But he’s not dangerous. Not like that boy.”
She paled. “I can’t talk about it.”
“You can, and you should,” he replied solemnly. “Your father was advised to get some counseling for you, but he didn’t believe in such things. That boy had a record for domestic assault, did you ever know? He beat his grandmother almost to death one day. She refused to press charges, or he would have gone to jail. His parents jumped in and got a fancy lawyer and convinced the authorities that he wasn’t dangerous. I believe they contributed to the reelection campaign of the man who was police chief at the time as well.”
“That’s a harsh accusation,” she said, shocked.
“It’s a harsh world, and politics is the dirtiest business in town. Corruption doesn’t stop at criminals, you know. Rich people have a way of subverting justice from time to time.”
“You’re rich, and you don’t do those types of things.”
“Yes, I am rich,” he replied honestly. “And I’m honest. I have my own business, but I didn’t get where I am by depending on my dad to support me.”
She searched his eyes curiously. “Is that a dig at Cort?”
“It is,” he replied quietly. “He stays at home, works on the ranch and does what King tells him to do. I told him some time ago that he’s hurting himself by doing no more than wait to inherit Skylance, but he just nods and walks off.”
“Somebody will have to take over the ranch when King is too old to manage it,” she pointed out reasonably. “There isn’t anybody else.”
John grimaced. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s the same with me. Can you really see Odalie running a ranch?” He burst out laughing. “God, she might chip a fingernail!”
She grinned from ear to ear.
“Anyway, I was a maverick. I wanted my own business. I have a farm-equipment business and I also specialize in marketing native grasses for pasture improvement.”
“You’re an entrepreneur,” she said with a chuckle.
“Something like that, I guess.” He cocked his head and studied her. “You know I don’t date much.”
“Yes. Sort of like me. I’m not modern enough for most men.”
“I’m not modern enough for most women,” he replied, and smiled. “Uh, there’s going to be a dressy party over at the Hancock place to introduce a new rancher in the area. I wondered if you might like to go with me?”
“A party?” she asked. She did have one good dress. She’d bought it for a special occasion a while ago, and she couldn’t really afford another one with the ranch having financial issues. But it was a nice dress. Her eyes brightened. “I haven’t been to a party in a long time. I went with Dad to a conference in Denver before he got sick.”
“I remember. You looked very nice.”
“Well, I’d