McFarlane's Perfect Bride by Christine Rimmer Page B

Riley Douglas that morning.
    â€œRiley clued me in. I get the picture now, and I don’t much like what I see. You want the resort and whenyou get it, people who matter to me, people who have worked hard here, are going to be without their jobs.”
    â€œGrant, come on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
    â€œI liked you,” Grant said with deadly softness. “I heard you were here to be with your son, to smooth over past differences with your sister. I admired that. Yeah, I also heard the rumors that you were interested in the resort. I didn’t listen to what they said.”
    â€œGrant, there’s no reason for—”
    â€œYou’re right.” Clifton cut him off. “Getting you here in my office and reaming you a new one isn’t a very smart thing for me to do. But I’m just pissed off enough that I don’t give a damn what’s smart. I just want you to know that I know now you’re not who I thought you were. You’re no better than a vulture, McFarlane. And I wanted to say that to your face.”
    Connor said nothing. With a curt nod, he turned for the door. Grant made no move to stop him.
    As he drove down the mountain, Connor tried to remind himself that he’d been called worse things than a vulture. In the past, he’d never cared. He went after what he wanted and he got it and what people said didn’t mean a thing.
    Now, strangely, Grant Clifton’s harsh words rankled. And he found himself worrying about Melanie and Russ, about their reaction when they learned he had plans for the resort. Tori had warned him he’d better tell Melanie what he was up to.
    So he detoured to the Hopping H. He found Melanie in the kitchen, baking cookies. The kids, she said, were out in the barn with Russ.
    She took a sheet of great-smelling snickerdoodles from the oven and set them on top of the stove. Andshe turned to him. She frowned when she saw his face. “What? You look like somebody stole your dog.”
    â€œI never had a dog.”
    She chuckled. “Mother never would have allowed that. ‘They are so filthy, darlings.’” She imitated their mother’s cool, aristocratic tones. “‘And the shedding.’” She faked a delicate shudder. “‘No. Impossible.’”
    He laughed—and then instantly grew serious. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
    Now she looked worried. Really worried. “What? Is it about CJ? I think he’s doing much better.”
    â€œHe is. It’s not about him.”
    â€œWell?”
    He laid it on her. “I came here this summer for him. And to spend some time with you.”
    â€œI know that, Connor. And I’m pleased that you’re here.”
    â€œAnd also to buy the Thunder Canyon Resort.”
    â€œYes,” she replied. “What else?”
    â€œWhat do you mean, what else?” he demanded grimly. “That’s it.”
    â€œThat you want to buy the resort?”
    â€œYes. I want to buy the resort and I thought you should know.”
    She took off the fat oven mitt and waved her hand airily. “Oh, that. I knew that.”
    He groped for a chair and lowered himself into it. “You did?”
    â€œYou’re my brother, Connor. I know you. I know how your mind works. The resort is a different type of property than McFarlane House usually takes on. That makes it a challenge and you love a challenge. Plus, youcan probably get it for an excellent price. Of course, you’ll go after it.”
    His mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut. “You knew all along.”
    â€œI did. And I knew that you’d tell me about it eventually, when you were ready to discuss it.”
    He confessed bleakly, “Grant Clifton just called me a vulture.”
    Her eyes grew sad. “Yes, well. Grant found his calling, managing the resort. It’s killing him to watch it fail. I’m sorry to hear