WHEN SHE KNEW she was onto something powerful, something right, Natasha didn’t give up. She was her mother’s daughter. Aware of this tendency, she channeled it, as her mother always had, into something positive.
And she lived a mostly lonely life. Keeping herself apart from others who could fall prey to her strengths. Angela had been around so long not only because she was great at her job but also because she could hold her own with Natasha.
Natasha was positive that while her proposal to Spencer Longfellow had crossed boundaries of expected behavior, it was the best answer for all four of them. Spencer, the kids, her. The minute the idea had occurred to her, she’d gotten that feeling. The one that led her to victory every single time.
Still, being right didn’t guarantee success—most particularly in this current matter. She couldn’t force him to marry her.
Spencer had a will of his own. Maybe even as strong as hers. Angela respected him, and that was saying something.
He wasn’t jumping on the idea. Worse, he seemed almost to be…laughing at it?
“Just out of curiosity, how do you see this relationship being good for the children down the road?”
Raising her head, she studied him. He was completely serious.
Sensing the possibility of a turn in the negotiations in her favor, she thought carefully before replying.
“I see them growing up with two champions in their lives, two people who love them unconditionally and who will always be there for them.”
“What if we decide to end our arrangement?”
Shrugging, she shook her head. Didn’t need time to think about that one. “They’d still have two champions in their lives, two people who love them unconditionally and who will always be there for them.”
“What if you found out, somewhere down the road, that I have some dirty little secret…?”
“Do you?”
“Maybe.”
He was baiting her. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”
“No.”
“Anything immoral?”
“Of course not.”
“I suspect we all have things that we don’t tell the world. We’re entering an unusual, perhaps lifelong, business arrangement, Spencer. Not giving up our autonomy.”
The designation was key. She couldn’t do it otherwise.
And suspected that neither could he. He was more like her than he seemed ready to admit, as committed to his ranch as she was to Family Secrets—and any future ventures she’d create if Family Secrets ever served its time.
The sky was her limit. Not Spencer. Or anyone else.
“You’re really serious about this.” He was staring her right in the eye.
She didn’t blink. “I am. Believe me, I know it’s out of the blue, but can you think of a reason why it isn’t a good decision? Why it won’t work?” Because she couldn’t.
Except… “Depending on how much time I spend here, I might have to bring Lily here to live.” Which, now that she thought about it, did work, because then the kitten wouldn’t be alone so much when she traveled.
“Fine. Cats are good in farmhouses. They keep the mouse population down.”
Her heart started to pound again. She thought of her mother up on the bench. The deep breath. The focus. “So, you’re agreeing?” she asked when she could.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m agreeing to think about it.”
She wanted his answer. “For how long?”
His grin screwed with her focus. “You got someone else on the hook?” he asked.
He knew she didn’t. “If I’m going to be embarking on a project of such a scope, I’ll need time to prepare. We have a Thanksgiving deadline for our announcement if we plan to forestall any viable attempt Claire would have to make to take the kids for any period of visitation over Christmas.”
As always, sticking to the facts, to the logic, brought the answers. Kept the solution in clear focus. Susan would be proud of her.
Susan. She’d have to tell her mother she was getting married.
If Spencer agreed.
For the first time, she felt a note of real doubt. Saw it, not felt it. Her mother was a strong proponent of freedom. She’d lived her whole life as an example to Natasha of who she was and how to live with who she was.
Her mother was not going to approve of a marriage—any marriage—for her daughter. But only because she’d be certain that such a union could only end in disaster.
But this one wouldn’t. It wasn’t a traditional marriage. It was a business deal being signed in family court.
She’d just have to make certain that Susan had all the facts.
“Having second thoughts?” Spencer’s words brought her back to the cabin in the desert. She saw him watching her, a strange expression on his face, kind of warm and…affectionate?
“Absolutely not,” she told him. “So, when can I expect an answer from you?”
“Right now,” he told her, his gaze piercing. “I agree to your plan, Natasha. I have some questions, some stipulations, but overall, I agree to your plan.”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t hear anything but thickness in her ears. Like she was standing in the midst of a rushing wind.
Sucking in air just in time before she had to sit down, she forced a smile.
“I’m sure we’ll both have questions,” she managed. “Let’s each make a list, and we can discuss them at our next meeting.”
“Meeting? We’re going to have meetings?”
“Regularly.” That was a given. “This has to succeed, Spencer. Which means we have to stay on top of it.”
He was grinning again. She didn’t like what that did to her.
“When is our next meeting?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned. “I’m not going to do all the work here, Spencer. You can be in charge of meeting times… No, wait, I guess it makes sense that I do that, considering that I’m the one who’ll be coming and going so much.”
“I’ll need a couple of days’ notice, when possible.”
“For the meetings? Or my coming and going?”
“If this is going to be your home, Natasha, you’re welcome anytime. I was speaking of meetings. However, now that you mention it, I would like to be kept apprised of your schedule.”
No one but Angela had access to that. Because she didn’t report to anyone. Yet…his request made sense. “Okay,” she said. And added, “And I’ll need yours and the kids’.”
“Fine.”
They talked about sharing an online calendar. Spencer said he’d set it up.
She agreed.
And they both went to work. On separate parts of the ranch.
All things considered, Natasha was proud of herself. She’d had a very productive morning.
* * *
HE HAD HIS LIST. And wasn’t completely hating all aspects of Natasha’s plan. In some ways, it worked out quite well. They’d have their separate lives—it was clear that couldn’t change for either one of them.
There’d be no messiness like there’d been with Kaylee. No recriminations or threats or defensiveness if, at some time in the future, either one of them wanted out of their arrangement.
And in the meantime…it was like he’d won the lottery. His kids would have a female influence in their lives—and he’d have his family unit, too. Claire Williamson would no longer have a leg to stand on in a custody battle when he was married. Every potential argument she’d raised had stemmed from him being a single father with a start-up cattle business and limited resources, while she could offer Tabitha the world—and a grandmother’s womanly influences.
Under Natasha’s plan, his business was going to soar. And yet…he gave up none of his autonomy. He was taking on a silent partner where the ranch was concerned.
Yes, the more he thought about the plan, the more he liked it. So much so that he stopped by the studio to tell her that afternoon.
She was in a meeting.
He told Angela not to disturb her.
And was glad to know that nothing had changed between them.
* * *
NATASHA WORKED TOO late to have dinner with the kids. Or to tell them good-night. It was going to happen. A lot. She knew that. And knew she was entitled to work late when needed.
Still, she was feeling a bit…deflated…as she drove slowly past the main house and down to her cabin. But figured the majority of her unease came from the phone call she had to make to her mother.
It was almost eleven in New York. Susan would still be up. And Natasha, like her mother, was one to face difficult deeds head-on, to get them done, rather than stew about them.
Forgoing dinner, she made herself a piece of toast with peanut butter. Poured a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade—a gift from Betsy—and sat down at her kitchen table with a notepad and pen.
Susan would have suggestions. Probably geared toward showing Natasha that she could be making the biggest mistake of her life.
She wasn’t going to change her mind. But she didn’t like being at odds with her mother. When you were different, as they were, sometimes each other was all you had…
“You’re what? Did you say you’re getting married? To the rancher?”
Natasha had expected the incredulity. Holding the phone away from her ear, she frowned. She hadn’t expected the excitement that was raising her mother’s voice a couple of octaves.
“Yes. Well…we’re not officially getting engaged until the Thanksgiving live show, but yes, we will be married in January. Here on the ranch. So you’ll need to clear your calendar…” She talked about dates.
“I can’t believe it! Oh, Natasha, I’m just so…happy for you.”
What? Well, then, “I’m just so happy you’re happy,” she said and proceeded to give her mother the entire rundown of her business proposition. The wins for everyone in so many ways.
Highlighting what was, for her, one of the biggest wins of all, aside from Family Secrets.
“I’m going to have a family, Mom, but keep my autonomy,” she said. If the arrangement worked as projected, she wouldn’t be alone in her old age. A retirement plan like none other.
When she’d shared all of the details, she fell silent and took a bite of cold toast. The peanut butter was still good.
The lemonade chaser was nice, too. Not too tart. Not too sweet. She’d have added a touch more water to soften the sharpness of the lemon…
“Mom? You still there?”
“I’m here.”
Uh-oh.
“I thought you were pleased I was getting married.” Her stomach sank as she waited for the conversation she’d been dreading.
“You don’t love him.”
“Of course not.”
“Marriage is for love, Natasha. Not for business.”
“But…”
“It’s a sacred bind.”
“It’s a legal contract,” Natasha countered.
“Because we as a society define it as such, but that’s not what the personal, lifetime partnership between two people is all about.”
“You love Stan but you won’t marry him.” She sounded like a petulant kid. Even to her own ears. And hated that her mother still had the ability to bring that out of her.
“I won’t marry him because I don’t love him.”
Shocked, Natasha leaned both elbows on the table and stared at the veneer top, as though within the faux wood grain she’d find something that would take away the sting of emotions trying to get the better of her.
“You…”
“I’m extremely fond of Stan.” Susan’s voice broke. “I miss him. But I don’t love him.”
“You should call him.”
“No. That would be selfish and unfair. I won’t marry a man I don’t love. It’s not right.”
For the first time in her life, Natasha openly disagreed with her mother. Vehemently.
“I’m going to marry Spencer, Mom. It’s the right thing for both of us.” She’d considered everyone involved. Saw no losses.
Not even small ones.
It was the most perfect business deal she’d ever come across. Or even heard of.
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“But you understand that I have to do what’s right for me.”
“Yes.”
She’d never heard her mother sound so sad. “You should call Stan,” Natasha tried again.
“I don’t love him.”
The denial bothered her. Maybe that was why she couldn’t let it go. “How can you possibly know that? You probably do love him. You’re just refusing to see that…”
She’d overstepped. She knew it the second the words left her mouth. Holding her breath, she waited. Would it make matters worse to apologize? Or did she show more respect by waiting humbly for Susan’s verbal dressing-down?
“I know because I have been in love.” Susan’s words were the last thing Natasha had expected.
“You have?”
“Yes.”
She had to… “When? With whom?”
“With your father.”
“But…”
“He left me pregnant and alone. Because he didn’t love me.”
Whoa.
The world had tilted. Alarmingly. Her view of her mother…their relationship…everything she’d known it to be was disintegrating right before her eyes. Her mother, a victim of unrequited love?
“Have you ever tried to get in touch with him again?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After you were born. The day you graduated from preschool. And high school. And college…”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. He never responded.”
He didn’t want them. Didn’t want the woman who’d spent her whole life loving him…
“I love you, Mom.”
“I know you do. And I love you, too, Tasha.”
She hadn’t heard that name in…years.
“I’m going to be fine.” She felt like the parent all of a sudden.
“Not if you marry this man, you won’t.”
So some things about Susan hadn’t changed. And probably never would.
“Why do you say that? You’re happy. And you’ve lived your whole life without a partner relationship built on love.” It was something she was just now beginning to see—the fact that Susan really was happy. She’d made her own happiness. With everything she had.
“You aren’t me, Natasha. You’re a nurturer. I am not.”
“That’s not true. You’re a great mom. And you and I, I’ve always known we’re exactly alike. I’m proud to be like you.”
“No, we’re not.”
The words cut her to the quick. Pushing away her half-eaten toast, she got up from the table. And had nowhere to hide. “Of course we are,” she finally said. Arguing again, because she had no other choice.
“No, Natasha. I spend my day judging people. You spend yours helping make people’s dreams come true…”
Her news had shocked her mother, as she’d known it would. Disappointed her. As she’d known it would. Susan was handling it badly, was all. She’d come around. Especially after she met Tabitha and Justin.
She hoped. Though Susan didn’t have a lot of cause to be around children, and had never seemed particularly enamored by them—especially in restaurants—she’d loved Natasha. Been a good mother to her.
Getting her mother to at least agree to mark herself off her judge calendar for the time in January she’d need to be in Palm Desert for the wedding, she rang off.
Her mother’s goodbye had been the same as always. Same exact words. Almost as if things were back to normal.
Natasha had a feeling life wasn’t ever going to return to the way it had always been.