Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [27]
“Um, maybe you can get her to design the Web site for Uncle Sid’s foundation that we’re setting up,” Casey suggested.
“I mentioned it to her briefly, and you’re right. It might be something she can do while she’s here if she has the time.”
“She’ll be at the ranch when McKinnon and I visit in a few weeks,” Casey said as if thinking out loud. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
Casey’s intonation immediately sent up red flags. He knew his sister. After that Chantelle fiasco she had gotten a little overprotective where he was concerned. He found it rather amusing although not necessary. “Don’t forget who’s the oldest, Casey,” he decided to remind her.
Over the phone line he heard her unladylike snort. “But only by a mere fourteen minutes. I would have been the oldest if it wasn’t for Cole holding me back.”
Clint laughed. That’s the reason Casey liked telling everyone for her being the last born. She had gotten that tale from Chester, who had convinced her she was in position to be born first. “Whatever. Look, Case, I have a lot of work to do around here today. I’m expecting another shipment of horses,” he said.
“Wonderful. McKinnon and I will talk with you later to let you know the exact day we’ll be arriving.”
Moments later Clint ended the call with Casey thinking that she was usually a good judge of character. He wondered what she would think of Alyssa.
Seven
A lyssa glanced around Clint’s office thinking how the one in her home was a lot smaller. She loved her small apartment. It was just the right size for her. All she needed was a kitchen, bedroom, bath and working space. She had considered the living and dining rooms as a bonus.
She studied the different pictures on the wall and recognized the one of Sid Roberts. Another showed a woman with three little ones—about the age of five or six—at her side. She knew that it was a picture of Clint, his mother and two siblings. There was another framed photograph of his mother alone. She was beautiful and Alyssa could easily see Clint’s resemblance to her; the likeness seemed very strong. She thought that Clint favored his mother until she saw yet another photograph of a man she immediately decided had to be Clint’s father. Any resemblance she’d attributed to his mother dimmed when she compared the image of Clint she had in her mind to the picture of his father. Clint had his father’s domineering features. Both Clint and Cole, whose looks were nearly identical, had inherited their father’s forehead, chiseled jaw and matching dark eyes. They had also inherited their dad’s sexy lips, the lips that she loved to look at on Clint. The father, whom Clint said he’d only met a few years ago, definitely was a good-looking man. Alyssa quickly formed the opinion that Casey, although she had her father’s eyes, had inherited more of her mother’s features.
Alyssa tensed when she heard her cell phone ring. She had recently gotten a new number and hoped that Kim hadn’t gotten hold of it. Flipping the phone open, she smiled when she saw it was her aunt calling. “Yes, Aunt Claudine?”
“Just wanted you to know that I got those boxes shipped off like I said I would. You should get them in a few days.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your going to the trouble,” Alyssa said.
“No trouble. Kim dropped by this morning trying to sweet-talk me into telling where you were. I didn’t tell her a thing. Actually, I told her you were off seeing a client.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Alyssa said.
“Jessie also called asking about you, but I figured Kim put him up to it.”
Alyssa had to assume the same thing. Her uncle rarely sought her out these days.
“And how are things with you and your cowboy?”
Alyssa chuckled. “He isn’t my cowboy, but things are going just fine.” At least she hoped they were. She hadn’t seen him since breakfast that morning. She knew he had returned for lunch because she had heard him when he’d ridden up on his horse. She had glanced out the window—being careful