Claiming Her Cowboy

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#uf216b09b-e74e-5314-b1ac-4798159b588f)

If Lucy Maxwell had learned one thing, it was that when life appeared to be going smoothly, it was time to listen closely for the other boot to drop.

Because it always did.

The attorney who stood at the head of the conference table, in his finely tailored suit, with his impossibly thick black hair and deep charcoal eyes, was definitely sigh-worthy. He even had a slight dimple when he smiled. Which he didn’t do very often. Except for his off-center nose, with the scar at the bridge, he was perfect. It was a good thing she was not taken to sighing over near-perfect men with dimples.

The man was unfamiliar to her. After working closely with the Brisbane Foundation for several years, she thought she knew everyone. But not him. She would have definitely remembered Jackson Harris.

He began to speak. The icy disdain that laced his voice as he reviewed the last twelve months of charitable funding to Big Heart Ranch obliterated any fanciful thoughts in Lucy’s head. Instead, she blinked to attention and sat up straight, adjusting her sundress and blowing her thick fringe of bangs from her eyes.

“After a lengthy consultation with the foundation accountants, I recommend a significant reduction in funding to Big Heart Ranch for the upcoming fiscal year,” he concluded.

Lucy gasped at the attorney’s words. The sound was loud enough to cause the board members seated at the enormous conference table to turn and stare. She fanned her damp skin with the meeting agenda. It seemed that the cool air had been sucked from the room, leaving it as sweltering as the Oklahoma summer outside the conference room windows.

Reaching for her water glass, Lucy took a long drink. If ever there was a need for divine intervention, it would be now. Big Heart Ranch’s own budget for the next year could not be finalized until the foundation’s donation had been secured.

She should have suspected something was up when her presence was requested at this meeting. Usually, the ranch accountant met with the Brisbane Foundation accountant. And it was generally a simple transaction. Not this time. This time the director of the ranch was invited to the meeting. Lucy took her director responsibilities seriously and had arrived early and eager.

The start of the meeting seemed a lifetime ago. Now her hands trembled as she set the glass back down. Lucy clasped her fingers together tightly in her lap and turned to the other end of the table, where the chief executive officer of the Brisbane Foundation sat.

“Mrs. Brisbane?” Lucy prompted.

Meredith Brisbane had paled beneath her silver coif. She cleared her throat and touched the pearls at her neck, as if to reassure herself she was still breathing.

“Lucy dear, I can assure you this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Though my nephew is newly appointed to the foundation, I am certain he has our best interests at heart.”

Nephew? How had she missed that significant bit of information?

“However, through no fault of his own,” Meredith added, “Jackson has a limited understanding of why we partner with your organization. I take full responsibility for this omission. Lucy, perhaps you could enlighten him on how funding to the ranch is utilized.”

“Yes. Yes.” Lucy nodded, while her mind raced. “I’m happy to.”

After all, Big Heart Ranch was Lucy, and her brother, Travis, and her sister, Emma. They’d single-handedly built the Timber, Oklahoma, local charity for orphaned, abandoned and neglected children.

Lucy paused, her confidence waning. She could provide the smug attorney with numbers until the ranch cows came home. Like the fact that the average cost of raising a child was well over two hundred thousand dollars, and that the ranch was raising sixty children. However, something told her that Jackson Harris would not be impressed with numbers. What would get through to this man?

She blinked. Like the kick of a stubborn mare, out of nowhere, inspiration struck. Lucy smiled and turned to face him.

“Spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations can’t possibly show you the true heart of our ranch, Mr. Harris. The best way to understand the big picture is to come to the ranch. Spend time with us. I’d love to show you our ministry in action.” She paused. “Of course, I’m happy to provide you complete access to our financials, as well. You have an open door to anything you need from us.”

It was Jackson Harris’s turn to show surprise. He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, his aunt chimed in.

“Why, Lucy, that’s a splendid idea. I couldn’t agree more. He needs to see the scope of the ranch’s reach.”

Jackson’s gaze moved from his aunt and then back to Lucy. He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly did you have in mind?” The words were measured and precise.

Lucy scrambled for a plan. “Summer,” she burst out.

“Summer?” The attorney tugged at the collar of his dress shirt.

“Yes. We’re about to start our summer program at the ranch. It’s our busiest and most ambitious undertaking of the year. Not only do we work with our own sixty children, but we invite the children from the State of Oklahoma orphanage in Pawhuska to the ranch for vacation Bible study at rotating intervals.”

He adjusted his silk tie and said nothing.

Lucy continued. “We’re about to start our annual series of old-fashioned trail rides and campouts.” She flashed him what she hoped was a confident smile. “The summer events are capped off in August, with a black-tie fund-raising gala hosted by your aunt.”

Had she imagined his jaw tightening as he reached for his water? The board members seated at the table glanced away and carefully examined the paperwork in front of them. An awkward silence stretched for moments until a melodic ring filled the large room. All hands shuffled and reached for cell phones. Meredith shot Lucy an apologetic smile as she retrieved her own phone.

“I’m so sorry. I must take this.” Phone in one hand, cane in the other, Meredith stood and wobbled precariously. As she reached out for the table ledge, her cane fell to the thickly carpeted floor with a soft thud.

Lucy jumped up in time to grasp Meredith’s forearm and gently steady the benefactress.

Jackson was around the table and at his aunt’s side in seconds. “Are you okay, Aunt Meri?” he asked. Genuine concern laced his voice—the first sign of humanity Lucy had seen in the man.

“Oh, my. Sorry to give you two a fright.” Meredith glanced from Lucy to her nephew and frowned. “An inner ear issue, the doctor tells me. Sometimes I’m a bit off balance. This getting-old stuff is not for sissies.”

“How are you feeling now?” Lucy asked.

“I’m fine. Thank you, dear. I simply need to remember not to stand quite so fast.”

Lucy nodded as she picked up the ebony cane and handed it to Meredith.

Head held high, Meredith’s measured steps were nothing short of regal as she moved across the carpet. The room remained silent until the door closed behind her.

Harris again turned to Lucy. The man’s unflinching gaze was anything but warm and fuzzy. The dark brows were drawn into a serious frown.