Courageous

“Exactly,” Jason said blandly. “That’s why you need the break.”

Grange turned back to him, with his hands deep in his jeans pockets. He grimaced. “Listen, I don’t like people much. I don’t mix well.”

“And you think I do?” Jason asked reasonably. “I have to hobnob with heads of corporations, government regulators, federal auditors … but I cope. You’ll be able to deal with it, too.”

“I guess so.” He drew in a long breath. “It’s been a while since I led men into battle.”

Jason lifted an eyebrow. “You went into Mexico to liberate my wife when she was kidnapped by your current boss.”

“An incursion. We’re talking about a war.” He turned back to the fence, leaned his arms on it and stared blindly at the purebred cattle munching at a rolled-up hay bale. “I lost men in Iraq.”

“Mostly due to your C.O.’s idiotic orders, as I recall, not to your own competence.”

Grange said grimly, “I loved his court-martial.”

“Served him right.” Jason leaned against the fence beside him. “Point is, you lead well. That’s a valuable ability to a deposed head-of-state who’s fighting to restore democracy to his country. If you succeed, and I believe you will, they’ll erect a statue of you somewhere.”

Grange burst out laughing.

“But the ball is a local tradition. We all go, and donate to important regional causes at the same time. We get together and dance and talk and have fun. You remember what that is, Grange, don’t you? Fun?”

Grange made a face.

“You ex-military guys, honest to God—” Jason sighed.

“Don’t start with me,” Grange told him. “You just remember that my military experience is why Gracie isn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Jason shook his head. “I think about it every day.” He didn’t like remembering it. Gracie had almost died. Their courtship had been rocky and difficult. They were married now, and expecting their first child. Gracie had thought she was pregnant soon after their marriage, only she’d been mistaken. She wasn’t this time. She was six months pregnant and beaming. They were happy together. But it hadn’t been an easy path to the altar.

“I was going to ask her out, just before you married Gracie,” Grange said to irritate the other man. “I even bought a new suit.”

“It wasn’t wasted. It’s still in style. You can wear it to the Cattleman’s Ball. Besides,” Jason added with a grin, “you have no cause for complaint. I gave you a tract of land and a seed herd of purebred Santa Gertrudis.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Grange told him firmly. “It was overkill.”

“It wasn’t. You’re the most valuable employee I’ve got here. It was a bonus. Well deserved.”

Grange smiled. “Thanks.” He made another face. “But you didn’t have to throw in Ed Larson and his daughter.”

“Peg’s sweet, and she cooks like an angel.”

The dark eyes glared. “She’s after me. All the time. She says things …”

“She’s barely nineteen—of course she says things …”

“She’s trying to seduce me, for God’s sake!” he burst out, and his high cheekbones flushed.

Jason’s eyebrows lifted. “You do know that the Victorian Age is over and done with?”

“I am not about to start playing games with a nineteen-year-old,” came the curt reply. “I go to church, pay my taxes and give to charity. I don’t even drink!”

Jason shook his head. “I give up. You’re a lost cause.”

“You want to see a lost cause, look around you,” Grange began. “We have the highest divorce rate, the ugliest economy and the greediest corporate entities on earth….”

Jason held up a hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m due in New York the week after Thanksgiving,” he said drolly.

“I wasn’t going to take that long to get my point across.”

“You’ll have to plant your soapbox someplace else. As to the ball, if you don’t take Peg, who will you take?”

Grange looked hunted. “I’m going alone.”

“Oh, that’s going to put you on everybody’s front page for a month.”

His sensual lips made a straight line. “I’m not taking Peg! Her father works for me! So does she, while we’re on the subject!”

“I can list all the people who took employees to past balls, if you like,” Jason mused.

Grange knew already what a list that would be, and many of those couples ended up married. He didn’t want to open that can of worms.

“It’s only for about three hours,” Jason continued. “What’s the harm? And aren’t you leaving the country two days later?”

“Yes.”

“Think of it as a happy memory to take with you.”

He shifted and averted his eyes. He ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “Peg won’t have the money for a party dress.”

“We have a new boutique in town. The designer, Bess Truman, is trying to drum up business, so she’s outfitted half the town’s eligible women with her stock. Remember Nancy, our pharmacist? She’s got a green gown that she wore for an event that was filmed on the local television station. Bonnie, her assistant, has a red one that stopped traffic. Literally. Even Holly, who works with them, got a gold one. So Bess, she’s the designer, she gave Peg one to wear also.”

“Going to tell me what color it is?” Grange drawled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Jason grinned. “Gracie said it’s the most gorgeous of the lot.”

Grange still hesitated.

“Ask her,” Jason said, and he was solemn. “You’ve been walking around alone for a long time. You don’t date anybody. It’s time you remembered why men like women.”

His eyes narrowed. “Gracie put you up to this. Didn’t she?”

Jason shrugged and pursed his lips. “Pregnant women have cravings. Strawberry ice cream with pickle topping, crushed ice with mango, their friends getting asked to holiday balls …” He glanced at Grange with twinkling eyes. “You wouldn’t want to upset Gracie?”

“Yeah, hit me in my weak spot, why don’t you?” Grange muttered.

Jason grinned wider.

He shrugged. “Okay. I should be testing weapons and drilling men. But I’ll take the evening off and escort Peg to a ball I don’t want to attend. Why not?”