C.J. Miller

Capturing A Colton


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Jade, are you okay? I’m calling for an ambulance.”

      Jade opened her eyes. She was kneeling by the training circle, her head in her hands. The bright Texas morning sun hurt her eyes. Looking up, she could make out the shadow of a huge man, broad shoulders and crisp slacks, shiny polished shoes.

      “Jade? What happened?” Declan knelt beside her, his strong hand on her shoulder.

      It took several deep breaths for her to clear her head and focus. That memory of her parents pulsed through her like a bad hangover, the horror and the grief fresh every time. It had been years since her father had died and she had never told anyone except Mac and the federal agents he had put her in touch with. Even after Livia had been arrested, tried and jailed, Jade didn’t believe it was safe to tell anyone else what she knew about her mother’s crimes. Livia’s reach was too long and Jade had been right to be afraid. In prison, forever hadn’t meant that for Livia.

      Her mother had escaped. Though she had never said anything, she had seen Jade that day in the training circle. It was part of the reason for the grieving wife performance and why she had pretended to care so much about Jade in front of the police and paramedics. When she had delivered the news about Fabrizio, Jade remembered the look of vicious joy in her eyes.

      “I’m sorry, I had a sudden headache,” Jade said.

      She rose slowly to her feet and Declan did, as well. “Let’s get a glass of water. Is there medication you need? Pain pills? Maybe an ice pack?”

      His caring attention was almost too much for her and the wave of emotion brought the threat of tears. “I’m okay. I have a lot of work today.” Her animals, first and foremost, needed their breakfast.

      “Jade, if there’s something that needs to be done, I’ll take care of it. After I take care of you.”

      Her nerves were still rattled and she hadn’t cleared the fog left by the memory yet. Declan led her toward the house. He held open the screen door and she unlocked it. The kitchen was in the front of the house. Taking a seat at the wood kitchen table, Jade watched Declan. He got her a glass of water. “Headache meds anywhere?” he asked.

      She pointed to the cabinet next to the black refrigerator. Her coffeepot was still half-filled, her mug and plate from breakfast in the farmhouse apron double sink.

      Handing her the pills, he took a seat across from her. “Tell me what you need.”

      Tossing the orange pills in her mouth, she swallowed them with water. “You are sweet to care, but I’m doing okay.”

      “Then give me the farm to-do list and I’ll handle it until you’re feeling better.”

      She reached across the table and covered his hands with hers. Meaning the gesture to get his attention, it did more than that. Heat vibrated between them and Jade felt desire blossoming inside her. Her crush on him was growing deeper. “I’m really okay. I wasn’t feeling well and I should have slowed down. You aren’t dressed for farm work.”

      “The list,” he said. He stood and started unbuttoning his shirt.

      “I don’t have an actual list.” And now that he was taking his shirt off, her mouth went dry.

      In just a white T, he was something to look at. He frowned. “Then I’ll accompany you.”

      Sensing he wouldn’t give up, she stood, too tired to fight and wondering why chasing him away was important. His willingness to help should be accepted with open arms. “You may find it interesting.”

      “I find a lot about this farm interesting.” The look he gave her seared her to the core.

      Her. He found her interesting and that was an exhilarating experience.

      * * *

      After spending the morning with Jade at Hill Country, Declan’s shoulders were tight. He had respect for what she did every day. He’d needed to stay to be sure she was fine. It had scared him to see her crouched in the dusty training ring and she hadn’t exactly explained what had happened.

      Though he was behind on his own work, spending the morning with her had been eye-opening. Her work was tough and endless, and her devotion was admirable.

      Declan showered and changed into fresh clothes and shoes and then headed to La Bonne Vie, his most recent acquisition. He had plans for the run-down mansion and the valuable land it sat on. Edith had come to Shadow Creek first to look at La Bonne Vie to fix up the house and make it inhabitable. Buying the old estate had brought Declan no satisfaction. The house was dark and haunted by the evil that had gone on there. He had tried to stay there, but nothing could fix the damage to that property; it was beyond repair. His new plan was to start paving the way with the local government toward rezoning the land into developments.

      Residential neighborhoods or a commercial property would be well suited to the area. Shadow Creek was a small town, located about one hour south of Austin in the great Texas Hill Country. The perfect place to raise cattle, with rolling hills and green land, it was comprised of a central town and surrounded by cattle ranches. From Declan’s experience, it had room for growth and that meant development opportunities.

      The small-town atmosphere would attract people looking for a less hurried way of life. The shops along Main Street and local businesses were quaint and welcoming. Burnout from big-city living would send people to Shadow Creek if Declan provided them the right place to live. The local schools were underpopulated, so there was room for plenty more families to settle on La Bonne Vie’s three hundred acres of land. The natural spring running through it provided the best source of water for local ranchers and was another selling point. He was already thinking of neighborhood names that brought to mind the type of living he wanted to sell: Spring Overlook, Well Wood Spring, Springcrest or Bishop’s Spring. Packaging the houses with the implication that the homes would be luxurious and the neighborhood would be elite would allow him at least a fifty percent markup on every option sold.

      Though he wondered if he would catch flak from Joseph “Mac” Mackenzie, owner of the Mackenzie Ranch that bordered La Bonne Vie, Declan would overcome it. Mac was Thorne Colton’s father, the result of an affair with Livia Colton while she had been married to her third husband, Wes Kingston. Livia had deflected gossip about her and Mac by concocting lies about Wes, claiming he’d mistreated her, working to ruin his reputation. Wes divorced her and left his land behind in a settlement that gave Livia full custody of both River and Thorne. Until recently, when a DNA test had proved otherwise, River had believed Wes was his father.

      From what Declan knew of Mac, his affair with Livia had been out of character for him. Mac had worked as a foreman on Livia’s property. Livia hadn’t been willing to raise cattle because their noise bothered her, so Declan wondered what exactly Mac had done at La Bonne Vie.

      La Bonne Vie being run-down didn’t bother him; he had seen worse properties and had made a fortune renovating them. The main house, built in a French country style, sat on top of a hill with a long drive and a fountain in front. The grand staircase inside the foyer, the seven bathrooms and eight baths, heated pools and beautiful barn: all spoke to the lifestyle Livia had led.

      But the stigma La Bonne Vie carried because of what had gone on inside the house wouldn’t be scrubbed from local memory anytime soon. No one wanted to live there. It was haunted by the people whose lives Livia had destroyed. Quite a fall from grace for Livia, to move from the mansion to prison. Declan delighted in knowing the drastic change had to have been terrible for Livia. She deserved every ounce of suffering she had withstood over the last ten years.

      Seeing La Bonne Vie in its current state made it easier to tear it down. Declan was removing anything that remained in the house that he could sell. Though the state had taken most obvious items of value, Declan knew how to squeeze every last penny from a property. The house had items to be sold and Declan had them taken to a nearby auction house each week, where they wouldn’t be recognized as Livia’s. When he was finished stripping the house, the structure would come down, the wreckage hauled away, and he would start new.

      A new