Heiress by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1987-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Although the auction wasn't scheduled to begin for another hour yet, an assortment of parked cars, pickup trucks, and horse trailers already filled the farmyard, a few overflowing onto the shoulder of the narrow lane, when Rachel arrived. She found a space between two vehicles parked near the house and maneuvered her car into it.

As she stepped out of the car, a hand touched her arm. Startled, Rachel turned sharply, half expecting to be confronted by Abbie. Instead she found herself gazing into Lane's smiling eyes, happy lines fanning out from the corners like so many rays from the sun.

"Lane." She breathed out his name in a mixture of delight and relief.

"Surprised?" He kissed her lightly.

"And glad," she admitted as he drew back to run an admiring glance over her, sweeping her from head to toe.

She met it confidently, aware that her choice of attire was both casual and elegant, as well as practical and feminine. Padded at the shoulders and graced with high stand-up collar and turned-back cuffs, her ivory blouse was done in a softly draping silk charmeuse. A wide brown leather belt circled the shaped waistline of her camel skirt, which then fell gracefully full to midcalf. Instead of shoes, she wore a sophisticated version of flat-heeled riding boots. A silk scarf, the same ivory shade as her blouse, held her hair back at the nape of her neck. Her only jewelry was a pair of heavy gold earrings, sculpted in layers.

Since she'd moved to Houston, she'd thrown out or given away all her clothes and bought a whole new wardrobe. No more inexpensive California casual for her: now that she had some money, it was Texas chic, thanks to the helpful and instructive suggestions she'd received from clerks at several of Houston's more exclusive department stores—clerks vastly different from the disinterested, gum-chewing salespeople in the stores where she used to shop. Knowing what to wear, how to wear it, and when to wear it—and knowing that because of it she always looked her best—had done wonders to improve her self-image.

"You look stunning, as usual," Lane declared, then tucked a hand under her elbow and guided her toward the idly milling crowds near the stables.

"I didn't know you'd be here today. You never said anything about it when we talked on the phone last night." She looked at him curiously.

"Under the circumstances, I decided it would be wise for me to come and ensure that there wouldn't be any problems." He didn't say "with Abbie," but Rachel knew that's what he meant. "And, as Dean's executor, I felt I should be on hand to see how the auction went."

"Of course." A small crowd had gathered at the rail of the riding arena to watch a horse and rider working in English tack. Rachel paused with Lane to observe the pair, her attention first drawn to the flashy bay mare, then shifting to the rider. It was Abbie, dressed in jodhpurs, riding helmet, and white shirt, minus the customary jacket, her dark hair pulled back in a low bun.

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