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the silk-covered couch. “But you aren’t here to be bored by my woes. Please sit and make yourself comfortable.”
    She gingerly sat on the edge of the ornate sofa.
    Ferguson sat across from her in a matching wingchair. He rested his arms on the sides and folded his hands in his lap. “When you called, you said you were interested in entering a business arrangement.”
    The housekeeper entered, carrying a silver tray full of delicate cakes and a coffee set. She served them espresso and Leon dismissed her.
    With shaky hands, Charli held onto the fragile china cup and saucer. “Yes, I’m wondering if you’d contract some of your ranch hands and equipment out to me. I’d like to get my pasture land cleaned up, a few fields planted, and my main corrals fixed. I’ll pay ten percent above the going rate for the service. I don’t want to waste any more time while I’m looking for a manager, and can hire my own workers.”
    Ferguson leaned back and sipped his coffee. His demeanor was the epitome of politeness. But some underlying magnetism of his dark eyes lured her in. She squirmed with apprehension and excitement at the same time.
    He set his cup and saucer down on the low Chippendale table between them. “The old place needs a great deal of work. Quite overwhelming, I’m sure, for someone so young.”
    “I may be young, but I know what I’m doing. I helped run my grandfather’s ranch for years.”
    “Of course, but Blackwell Ranch is a big investment.” Leon regarded her with shrewd deep brown eyes as he sipped his coffee.
    She held her saucer in one hand and laid the other on her thigh below the hem of her short skirt. When his gaze lowered to her legs, she tugged on the hem of her skirt and shrugged. The hot interest showing in his eyes shook her attempt at confidence. “I have a business plan and enough capital to invest. The house and most of the outbuildings need work, but I like the ranch and want to make Colton my home.”
    “These old mansions do hold a certain charm.”
    “Yes, they do, and I have plans for the house.” She wasn’t ready to share more of her ideas for the future.
    “If I can be of service with the renovation, please don’t hesitate to ask. Here in Forest County, neighbors watch out for each other.”
    Did she want Leon Ferguson watching out for her? What if he decided to look into her past? Hank had made sure if anyone tried to investigate her past, they’d hit a brick wall regarding her connection with Ricardo Rodriquez, a Las Vegas drug dealer, pimp and nightclub owner. But even Hank, with all his money and power, couldn’t cover up Ricardo’s serving a life sentence with no chance of parole for those crimes, as well as six counts of first-degree murder.
    Her stomach twisted into a knot. No way could she drink the dark coffee. What if Leon somehow discovered her former cocaine addiction?
    He made a weak gesture toward her cup with a flick of his hand. “Would you prefer something else? Tea, water, wine?”
    She swallowed hard to get the stinging taste of anxiety off her tongue, and shook her head. “No, thank you, coffee’s fine.” Maybe one sip would appease him and get the hot pepper feeling out of her mouth. “Neighbors looking out for each other is one of the things I love about the area.”
    “Me, too. Colton and Forest County have a wonderful sense of community.” He picked up his cup and took a drink. “I’ll be more than happy to spare a few of the boys to get your place ready. It’ll be easy to come up with a cost workup. Call you tomorrow to set up another meeting to sign a contract?” His smile eased her apprehension as he placed the saucer and cup back on the table. “A crew could start as early as Monday.”
    “Wow. That would be wonderful, thanks. You have a beautiful home.”
    “Thank you. It was built in 1867. A replica of the plantation house co-founder of the county, Dylan Ferguson, had left to come west with his cousins, Elijah Blackwell and