Oklahoma Moonshine (The McIntyre Men #1) (2 page)

“I want to landscape the prettiest spot on the place, down by the riverbank,  and make it even prettier, then rent it out for folks to hold
wedding ceremonies.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

“I’ve been thinking about it since I was a kid.” She lowered her eyes.
“I grew up on that ranch. Happier times.” She looked up at him and smiled, but it was a sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I
want to spread my sister’s ashes there. But not unless I get the place. If I don’t, then…  I just want to keep her near me.”

And the rainstorm became torrential. How the hell was he going to bid against her now?

 “I’m sorry,” he said. “Was it recent?”

“Six weeks ago. Almost seven. I don’t…I can’t—” She held up a hand and her eyes got damp.

Everything in him turned to mush at the sight of those unshed tears. He wanted to chase them away. The power of his attraction to her was shockingly
strong. He hadn’t felt this drawn to a woman in a long time. Maybe not ever. “Tell me more about your plans for the place.”

She sipped her drink, blinked her eyes dry again. “Probably just pipe dreams.”

“They don’t sound like pipe dreams so far. What about Halloween, what kinds of tricks and treats do you have in mind for Oklahoma
Octobers?”

 Her whole being shifted, he thought. The light came back into her eyes. “Hayrides and corn mazes and pumpkin patches. The smaller of the two
barns would make the most amazing haunted house you ever saw.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

“Mm-hm. I’ll name the place Holiday Ranch. It’s gonna be a gold mine.” She was smiling hugely when she looked his way, then lowered
her eyes, her cheeks going pink. “You must think it’s a crazy idea.”

“I think you might be kind of brilliant.”

“Really?” She looked at him as if his answer mattered. “I really want to know. You have a lot more knowledge about business stuff than I
do, being the son of RJR McIntyre.”

He knew enough about business to be aware that his own dreams for his someday ranch were not likely to be lucrative at all. But he didn’t want to do
it for the money. “I agree it could be a money maker, after a while. You might be living hand-to-mouth for the first year or two. Might need to grow
some sort of crop or lease some of the acreage to a local farmer to help get up on your feet. Might even need to take on a side job until things start
rolling. But it’s a sound idea. And you’re only just scratching the surface of what you can do out there. Gift shop, maybe an on-site coffee
and snack bar—”

“Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for that. This is important. It’s a new beginning for
me. A whole new life.”

She finished her drink and reached for her handbag.

“Nope. It’s on the house.”

She smiled up at him, then slid off her stool, landed on the floor, and stumbled a little on those heels. He caught her shoulders and she tipped her head
up, met his eyes, and hers turned soft and smoky.

He felt a rush of something warm and dangerous whispering through him. The urge to kiss her was like a giant hand on the back of his head, pushing him
closer. 

But Rob resisted. “Night, Kiley. It was real nice meeting you.”

Kiley left that fancy saloon like she was walking on a cloud. She was going to do it. The ranch was practically hers!

Rob McIntyre was polite and sweet and charming, and according to that bumblebee-like real estate agent Betty Lou Jennings, who loved to gossip while
showing potential buyers like Kiley around properties, he was very interested in buying the old Kellogg place. He’d be at that auction tomorrow for
sure. All she had do was get there ahead of him and wait.

 He was more handsome than she’d expected. Yes, she’d seen him from a distance, because she’d been researching him. But up close, it
was like being pulled by the force of his gravity or something. He had the sweetest face she thought she’d ever seen. Thick, full lips and a wide
broad smile that made his eyes crinkle up. Dark hair that wanted to curl, and just enough scruff on his face to send her hormones into overdrive.

He was so over-the-top nice to her that she’d have suspected he was running a con of his own if she didn’t know he was rich. Rich folks could
afford to be polite and charming for no reason, she guessed. But it would have been easier if he’d been a jerk to her. Or if he looked like an ogre.
Or if his smile hadn’t just about made her forget how to breathe.

This was gonna be hard. It would work, but she almost wished it didn’t have to.

Kiley Kellogg was turning over a new leaf, going straight, creating a respectable life in her small hometown the way she’d always secretly dreamed of
doing. Being that her father was in prison and her sister was dead, she didn’t think the message could’ve been any clearer; she needed to
change her life if she didn’t want to end up like they had.

But going straight required capital, and she only knew one way to make bank. She’d never been worth a damn at it, nowhere near as good as her dad and
Kendra. A constant source of disappointment to them both, as a matter of fact. But if she wanted her home back, she was going to have to up her game.

She had to con a billionaire cowboy into handing her half a million dollars. And she had to do it in a way he would never suspect had been a con at all,
because she wanted to go on living in this town once the ranch was hers again. She might even consider paying him back.

She got into her beaten and barely road-worthy car, and then drove it home. It was all of five minutes if you took your time. Right out of the parking lot
of The Long Branch Saloon, two miles down, then right onto Pine Road. The ranch her mother had inherited and her father had pissed away, included both
sides of Pine road, a full thousand acres of it, wide flat meadows and scrubby woodlots, generously watered by the Cimarron.

Home.

Her battered car’s headlights lit the rutted driveway and picked out what remained of stonework pillars on either side. There used to be a gate
attached, but it was long gone. Just the rusted hinges remained, their orange-brown decay staining the stones.

She shut the headlights off before driving on through. It wasn’t exactly legal to be squatting on the property before she’d bought it, but she
couldn’t afford much else. The trip from New York had cleaned out most of her cash. Besides what she’d set aside for the auction.

She had five hundred thousand dollars in cash, stuffed into a duffle bag, crammed behind the wall in the back of a bedroom closet. She and Kendra used to
hide their diaries in there.

She pulled all the way up to the house, and then drove around behind it, cut the engine and got out. Then she just stood there for a minute, looking
around. The sky was so much wider here than in New York, a blanket of twinkling stars, spread as far as you could even see. No moon tonight, and hardly a
cloud, either.

When she was a little girl, she and Kendra used to sneak out on nights like this. They’d wander down to where the river meandered through the meadow,
and spin until they were too dizzy to stay upright. Then they’d open their arms and fall backward into the deep grass and wildflowers, giggling until
it was hard to breathe. When the laughter ebbed, they’d keep lying there. That was the best part. Lying there in the silence of an Oklahoma night,
listening to the bullfrogs and grasshoppers and nightbirds, and gazing up at all those stars. Sometimes a fish would jump and splash in the river, or a
bullfrog would croon a baritone lullaby.

It would be good to reclaim her home, to be able to live there legally. Good to turn it into what she and Kendra had talked about as kids.

She felt close to her sister there. Closer than she’d felt to her in years. They’d struggled so hard to stay in touch when their father had
gone to prison and they’d gone into the system, moving from one foster home to another, never in the same one together. They’d made sure they
never fell out of contact back then.

And then they’d turned eighteen and had been booted out on their own. Kendra wanted to run games, con the wealthy, and get rich quick. Kiley wanted
to take classes and learn how to make an honest living, so she only grifted when she had no other choice. They’d run one or two fairly successful
games together, but they just didn’t see things eye to eye. Kiley felt guilty, which made Kendra feel judged. Angry fights ensued, and they’d
drifted apart.

She slid her hand into her big handbag and closed it around the black leather drawstring pouch that held Kendra’s ashes. “I’ve just gotta
run this one last game to get the rest of the money for the ranch, Sis. Once it’s mine and no one can take it, I’ll spread your ashes here.
Down by the big boulder on the riverbank.”

Guilt gnawed at her belly. It was always the same. If she ran a game and failed, which happened more often than not, she hated herself for not living up to
her dad’s expectations and her sister’s phenomenal skills. If she ran a game and succeeded, she felt even worse.

All those people who’d sent her money through
Go-Fund-Yourself.com
for her non-existent Chihuahua’s make-believe prosthetic legs,
haunted her dreams at night. It had been the most successful con she’d ever played. And it was still only half enough to buy her home back. To fund
her dream.

And that was why she had to go straight. She had never been any good at the game anyway. And if she started to
get
good at it, she thought that
would be even worse. She just wasn’t cut out to be a criminal.

One more game, and she’d have enough to get her home back. And that was it. No more.

Kiley nodded, affirming to herself that all of her dreams were about to come true, and then she went inside, crawling through the same window she’d
been using for the past few nights. The house was empty, but had been spruced up for potential buyers. She trailed her fingertips over the fresh paint as
she went upstairs to the bedroom that had been her sister’s, walked into the closet and pulled away the board that covered up the hollow spot in the
wall. Just inside the dark opening her sleeping bag waited, all neatly rolled up. The smaller green duffle contained most of her worldly possessions.
Clothes and toiletries, mainly. The bigger green duffle held the cash. She hauled everything out except the cash, and dropped it all onto the bedroom
floor.

Her styrofoam ice chest full of food and bottled water stood in the farthest corner from the bedroom windows. There was no electricity turned on in the
place, and it was summer and hotter than hell by day. But the century-old farmhouse stayed remarkably cool. Would stay cooler still once she put some
curtains in the windows.

She unrolled her sleeping bag, gave it a shake, in case of visitors, then stripped off her clothes, and crawled inside, tired and lonesome, but closer than
ever before to her dreams coming true. She just wanted to snuggle down, close her eyes, and imagine how it was going to be.

So she did.

When Kiley opened her eyes again, smiling lazily and stretching her arms, the sun was way higher than it ought to be, and blazing at the wrong angle
through the bedroom window.

“Holy smokes!” She crawled to her clothes, rummaged through them for her cheap cell phone, and flipped it open. Five minutes to nine. The
auction was at ten.

There wasn’t time for her usual early-morning bath in the river down back. She snatched clothes and makeup bag out of her rucksack, grabbed two
bottles of water from the cooler, and ran for the second floor bathroom. Shoving the stopper into the sink, she poured the water into the spotless basin
and did a fast wash-up. Face first, body second. Hair...ah, hell, hair.

It was a mess. She pulled a large-tooth comb through her curls, then piled them up on top and snapped a pretty clip into place. Then she slapped on a coat
of makeup, and ran back to the bedroom and into the closet for the cash. She unzipped the duffle just to verify it was still there, and she hadn’t
dreamed it. Stacks of banded bills and a waft of money-smell confirmed that it was indeed for real. She tugged the bag through the opening, and knocked a
banded stack off the top of the pile. It tumbled further into the dark compartment.

“Dang! I don’t have time for this now.” She set the bag aside, and reached way into the opening. The stack of bills was there, on top of
something else. Either two bundles had fallen or her money had multiplied overnight.

She pulled both items out into the light. A banded stack of bills, and a small book, with a lock and a tiny keyhole. It was purple with the words My Diary
on the front in pink glitter.

Kendra’s. Kiley’s had been just like it, only pink with purple glitter. She had no idea what had happened to it. But this was definitely
Kendra’s.

She landed on the floor, on her butt, and held the small book in hands that shook a little. Her throat went tight, and her eyes burned. She could’ve
opened it without the key. Just a solid tug would do it. Or she could pick the lock with a hairpin, if she didn’t want to damage the thing.

But instead of doing either of those things, she just sat there, holding that little book in her hands, blinking down at it, trying to keep the hot tears
from spilling over and ruining her mascara. “Dammit, Kendra, why did you have to die before we got the chance to make up?”

Sniffling, she put the diary into her purse. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’d give anything for another chance to say I love
you.”

She got to her feet, brushed herself off. The auction would begin in a half hour. She needed to wash her hands one more time and get there before Rob
McIntyre. No time to roll up the sleeping bag, repack her dirty clothes, or carry the rucksack and cooler down to the car just then. She left it all just
as it was, hefted the money duffle by its shoulder strap, and ran to the car like her feet were on fire.

Rob McIntyre was having a mental tug of war inside his own mind. He didn’t quite know how he could bid against Kiley Kellogg for her childhood home.
That girl seemed to want it way more than he did. But she’d also seemed full of blue mud, as his stepmother Vidalia would say, when she’d been
talking about some priceless family heirloom that was going to fund her cause. She was a liar, and a very bad one. And while he couldn’t think of a
single reason why she would lie to him, a perfect stranger, about some non-existent piece of priceless jewelry, he was sure she had.