Roping Ray McCullen Read Free Page B

I have a half brother?” Finally Ray turned toward her, a harshness in his eyes. “How old is he?”
    â€œTwenty-six,” Scarlet said.
    â€œJust a little younger than me,” Ray muttered. “Damn my daddy. Even in death, he found a way to screw us.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Ray.” Scarlet fidgeted. “I know this is a shock. Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but—”
    â€œBut you did come,” Ray snapped. “Because you and Bobby want something? What? Part of Daddy’s money? The ranch?”
    Scarlet flinched at his accusatory tone. Although she reminded herself that she’d just dropped a bombshell on Ray at a time when he was grieving. Lashing out was a natural reaction.
    But Joe McCullen’s words in that heartfelt letter echoed in her head. She had loved Joe, and even though he’d made mistakes in his life, he’d cared about her.
    Ray must have read her silence as a yes. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want part of Horseshoe Creek?”
    â€œRay, please,” Scarlet said, her voice quivering. “It’s not like that.”
    Ray’s jaw tightened. “Then how is it? You simply came to tell me you’re sorry my father is gone? That he has another son, but that he doesn’t want part of Dad’s legacy?”
    Actually Bobby would want part of it. And Joe had made arrangements for him, only there were stipulations attached to it. She didn’t know what those stipulations entailed, but whatever they were, Bobby would balk.
    â€œI won’t lie to you, Ray. I am here because your father left me something.” She pulled the letter from her bag. “I had no idea he’d included me or Bobby in his will, but he did. A lawyer named Bush contacted me about the reading.”
    â€œJust as I thought,” Ray said, animosity dripping from every word.
    Self-preservation kicked in. “Listen, Ray, I didn’t ask for this. And I don’t think Bobby even knows yet. He and Joe didn’t get along, and Bobby’s had problems in the past, so I don’t know what to expect from him now.” She shoved the letter toward Ray. “Just read this letter your father wrote me.”
    Ray’s dark gaze latched with hers, tension stretching between them, filled with distrust.
    Her hand trembled as she waited for Ray to take the letter. When he snatched it, she finally released the breath she’d been holding, sank back in the chair and struggled to calm her nerves.
    But the sight of Ray’s big, tough masculine profile haloed by the orange-and-yellow firelight aroused feminine desires that she’d never felt. Desires that she had no right to feel for the man in front of her.
    Desires that couldn’t lead to anything.
    But something about his strong jaw, that heavy five o’clock shadow and the intensity in his eyes reminded her of Joe. Joe, the man who’d been like a father to her.
    Joe who’d sent her here to meet his sons.
    She clutched her drink glass again and sipped it. The warm scotch slid down her throat, warming her. Yet the alcohol also reminded her of Joe.
    Why had he put her in this awkward position?
    He had to have known that Ray and his brothers wouldn’t welcome her or want to share any part of their family ranch. That they would be angry, and that the truth would turn their world upside down.
    * * *
    R AY LEANED AGAINST the hearth as he studied the paper Scarlet had handed him. It appeared to be a handwritten letter to her.
    In his father’s handwriting.
    My dearest Scarlet,
    I was blessed to have sons. But I never had a daughter—until I met you.
    That first line knocked the breath from his lungs. But he forced himself to read further.
    By the time he finished, his gut was churning. These were his father’s words. His father’s sentiments.
    Betrayal splintered through him.
    Scarlet wasn’t lying. His father had loved her, had lead a life that