Kara Lennox - One Stubborn Texan

“But you found him, right? This Russell Klein?”

Sydney sighed. “Yeah. He’s the one. But I don’t have a signed contract. He did sign a contract, but then I got mad at him and tore it up.”

Lowell’s jaw dropped. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. You did not raise a brilliant daughter. You raised an idiot.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t tell me…this is the guy? The guy you told me about last night on the phone?”

“’Fraid so. But he accused me of lying and betraying him when I’d gone out of my way to be understanding about his situation.”

“What exactly is his situation?” Lowell wanted to know.

So she told him about Russ’s childhood and Winnie and how he’d built a really happy life down in Texas and didn’t want to wreck it. “But then he realized it was dumb not to accept the money and he did it. He did it for me, because he knew how badly we needed this commission.”

“Honey, you did him a favor. Not the other way around.”

She’d figured Lowell wouldn’t understand. Sydney herself had struggled to comprehend why Russ had refused the money. It was only when she spent time in Linhart and experienced the charms of small-town life herself-and met Winnie-that she’d started to understand.

“At any rate, he asked me not to tell anyone I’d found the Oberlin heir until he’d talked to his mother and explained he was putting the money into a trust. And, of course, I agreed; no harm in that. But somehow the media found out.”

“And he thought you were responsible?” Lowell asked, managing to muster up some righteous indignation of his own. “He called you a liar?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I got news for that deluded young man. He might be trying to protect his mama, but she’s the one who alerted the media.”

That caught Sydney up short. “Winnie Klein? Are you sure?”

“I saw her on CNN. Nice-lookin’ gal with big blond hair and a bust measurement about the same as her IQ?”

“Dad, that’s not very nice.” Sydney felt compelled to defend Winnie. “She must not be too dumb, because she sure put two and two together.” And Sydney wished she could be there when Russ found out.

“So you’re telling me there’s no million-dollar commission?” Lowell said, finally grasping the most significant point of this conversation.

She nodded miserably. “I let my pride get in the way of common sense. Sorry, Dad.”

He reached over and squeezed her knee. “That’s okay, darlin’. I’m still proud of you. I wish you’d come work with me full-time. As a partner, a full partner.”

“Really? You mean it?”

“You’re every inch your mother. You know, sometimes she refused a commission when she thought the client needed it more than us. Nothing wrong with letting your emotions rule once in a while.”

Sydney expelled a long breath of air. “We’re going to have to declare bankruptcy.”

Lowell winced. “Guess I saw that coming.”

Russ somehow managed to get through the day. He got the hunting party outfitted in all the latest gear, garnering a nice profit. Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about how profitable the store was if he accepted the ten million bucks.

Around noon the reporters gave up on him. They’d shot a few photos of him, but when he refused to be interviewed, they’d wandered off to greener stories.

For the remainder of the afternoon, the store was besieged by a string of customers who’d come in pretending to shop so they could gawk at him-or to offer sincere congratulations, because of course most normal people would see a windfall like this as good fortune. In fact, Russ was probably the only person in the world who saw it as a curse.

Sydney had brought a curse down on him, that was all there was to it. But whatever anger he’d felt toward her had dissipated during the day. He kept thinking about how she’d torn up the contract. If her only motive was money, she would never have done that. He couldn’t escape the niggling doubt that he’d somehow gotten it all wrong.

But Sydney had to be the one who’d alerted the media. Or at the very least, she’d told someone who then contacted the press. Which meant she’d lied. She’d manipulated him in the name of blatant self-interest; therefore she wasn’t the sort of person he wanted to be involved with romantically or do business with.

Bert had been fielding calls all day on his cell phone. He and his network of gossipers had kept the airwaves humming, though Bert was doing his best to quell the worst of the rumors.

Late in the afternoon, he hung up from a call looking troubled. “That was Eleanor Ivans. She said Winnie’s been up and down Main Street shopping, and she just bought a diamond necklace.”

“What?” Russ cursed softly. He’d wanted to wait until some of Winnie’s giddy excitement had worn off before sitting her down and forcing her to believe him when he said he wasn’t taking the money. But he couldn’t wait if she was running up her credit cards.

He shoved his sleeves into his jacket. “I’ll be back.”

“Dang, I’d like to be a fly on the wall for this conversation,” Bert said unhelpfully.

Russ found Winnie still in Stover’s Fine Jewelry. She smiled a greeting, but her smile faded when Russ scowled at her. She was wearing the necklace, which was so heavy with diamonds he was surprised she could stand up straight.

“Mom, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Just a little shopping. I haven’t had any sparklies since I sold the ones Sammy gave me and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I do mind. Return the necklace. Now. Then you and I are going to have a little chat.”

“I don’t see what you’re getting all bent out of shape for. I was gonna put it on layaway ’cause I know how you hate it when I run up my credit cards. But you’ll buy it for me, won’t you? It would just be a drop in the bucket.”

He hated it when Winnie used that little-girl voice with him. He thought she’d outgrown it. “Just give the necklace back to the nice man. Then we’ll go back to the Cut ’n’ Curl and go into your office and I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”

Winnie looked perturbed, but she unfastened the necklace and handed it back to the patient Mr. Stover. “Don’t sell it to anyone else, Arthur, please?”

“I’ll put your name on it.”

She winked at the elderly jeweler, then followed Russ outside and down the street to the beauty shop, holding her head high and walking like a queen.

Betty and Glory, who both had customers, stopped what they were doing to applaud Russ when he entered.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said, hating the attention. He wasn’t crazy; this was proving he’d been right all along. Being rich would be nothing but a pain in the butt. He escorted Winnie into the small office in the back where she kept her books, did the payroll, placed hair-product orders and paid bills. She’d proved herself surprisingly competent at running her business. But for some reason, that expertise did not extend to her personal finances.

Travel magazines and brochures for cruises and safaris were spread out all over her desk. “You haven’t ordered anything else, have you? You haven’t booked any luxury vacations or bought a Mercedes or anything like that?”

“No, but if we’re going to be rich, I don’t see what the problem is. Do you have any idea how much money ten million dollars is? We couldn’t spend it in a lifetime if we tried.”

Winnie could. That woman could spend it in a year. But it was a moot point, because there wouldn’t be any money to spend.

“I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Okay?”