All through dinner, Lianne had managed to keep up with the conversations—except when they involved much input from Nate. When she was excited, which was often, she talked right over others. Her exuberance, combined with how fast she spoke, made lipreading next to impossible.
She gave Nate a lot of credit for wanting to learn how to communicate with her and Becky, especially because many people never made the attempt. But now, as the girl moved on to tell Ryan a long story about a rodeo, she seemed to have forgotten she knew a single sign.
Lianne looked away, giving her eyes a rest. She made sure to keep her gaze from going anywhere near Ryan.
On their ride to the inn, he had done the same.
In the truck, she’d noticed he had shaved after his shower, closely enough for her to see the small muscle tic in his otherwise smooth jaw. She knew what that telltale tic meant. He’d had no idea what to say to her.
Though they had left the ranch house hours ago, she could still recall the way his eyes had darkened when she told him she was deaf. From shock, probably. Surprise, for sure.
She was used to both, and worse. Over the years, she’d had to explain to hundreds of people that she couldn’t hear. She had built up a thick skin, an armor that protected her against any reaction.
But today, for the first time in her life, she hadn’t felt ready to hear a response. And she didn’t want to think about what that meant.
Nate patted her arm. “Lianne, did you tell Ryan all about the school?”
“Yes, I did.” She’d better not miss a word of this conversation now. Not in front of the man sitting across from her.
Nate looked up at Ryan. “You’re gonna help Daddy with the wranglers, right?”
“Right.”
“And Lianne’s running the ranch.”
“Is she?” he asked.
“Yep. She’s helping Daddy build the school. It’s gonna be a camp, too. Isn’t that great? But don’t worry, it won’t be like a dude ranch or anything.”
Recalling her conversation with Ryan about that, Lianne couldn’t keep from looking his way. He was watching her.
His hazel eyes had changed, chameleon-like, picking up the color from his T-shirt. The green of an impending storm had given way to the brighter shade of grass after the rain. The sight sent a rush of pleasure through her.
Nate patted her arm again. She tore her gaze away from Ryan.
“There will be lots of horses at the ranch, right?”
She nodded at Nate. “Right. The boys will have plenty of chances for horseback rides.”
From across the lawn, Caleb and Tess approached, each carrying a tray.
“This is how you say horse, Ryan.” Nate rested the tip of her thumb against her temple with her index and middle fingers together and standing straight up. She tapped both fingers in the air twice the way Lianne had taught her.
He nodded.
“Try it,” she insisted.
“Nate,” Caleb said, “why don’t you give Gram and Aunt El a hand with dessert?”
“Okay,” she agreed, bounding to her feet. “So long as I get the biggest piece of pie.”
“We’ll give that to one of our guests,” her mother said. “And later you and I will have another talk about sharing.”
As Nate ran off, Caleb set his tray on the picnic table. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Can I pour for you?” Lianne asked.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it covered,” Caleb said. “Tess is training me.”
“Yes, and it’s a slow process.” Tess smiled at Caleb to take the sting from her words.
Lianne smiled, too. Like Kayla and Sam, these two were lucky to have each other.
Tess turned toward Lianne. “I hope you found things okay over at the house.”
“Everything’s great.” She spoke firmly, trying to convince herself as much as Tess. “So far I’ve seen everything I could possibly want in the house.”
And one person she didn’t want there at all.
She tried not to look at the man across the table as she reached for the mug Caleb held out to her.
She owed Caleb so much. The job. The chance to prove herself. Even the house she was living in rent-free. The big ranch house, with lots of rooms to get lost in.
Growing up with so many other kids around, she’d never had the luxury of a room to herself. Unlike Nate, she’d also never had a problem with sharing.
Before now.
Chapter Five
Their second helpings of pie finished, Ryan and Caleb had moved to a couple of lawn chairs. The one Ryan had taken provided him with a clear view of the far side of the yard, where Lianne sat at a table near a row of pine trees laced with tiny white lights. After dessert Nate had ferried Lianne over there for a sign language lesson.
Caleb’s mother-in-law hefted the coffeepot. “I’ll be right out with a refill.”
Caleb and Tess made vague comments about continuing his “training” and followed her.
“What did you think of the dessert?” asked the older woman seated near him.
Grateful for the distraction, he turned to Tess’s aunt. With her grizzled gray hair and tanned skin, Ellamae could have passed for Tony’s female twin.
All during the meal, she and Roselynn had sent platters and plates and bowls of food in his direction, urging him to take extra. Three rounds later he’d finally quit saying yes. He recalled Caleb’s warning that she liked to “spice things up.” But after kindness like that, he was willing to give the woman the benefit of the doubt.
“Dessert was great,” he said truthfully. “One of the best pecan pies I’ve ever tasted.”
He took a long, bracing swallow of coffee. One advantage to not sleeping—no worries about too much caffeine.
Ellamae did the same, eyeing him over the rim of her mug. “You’re a long way from Montana. It’s your first visit to New Mexico, isn’t it? And of course, your first time here in town.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.” And probably the last. As things stood now, he knew once he’d gotten free of his obligations here, he’d never want to see the place again. Whether he went back home or not… He’d have to see how things stood then.
“You’ll have to make sure and look me up next time you’re in town,” she said. “I’ll show you around, introduce you to a few folks. And there’s always something going on at the community center.”
That was the last thing he needed. “Thanks. I imagine I’ll be sticking close to the ranch for a while. It’s a busy time over there.”
Across the yard, Nate gave a loud frustrated groan.
Lianne laughed and brushed her blond hair back over one shoulder. Caleb had lit the hurricane lamps on the picnic tables, and in their glow her hair rippled like a river catching the first rays of the sun.
Fine poetic thoughts from a man whose literary heights ran to Louis L’Amour novels. And not thoughts he wanted to have at all.
“Good to know you’re enjoying your new surroundings.”
He’d forgotten about the woman sitting right next to him, who had trained her sharp-eyed gaze on him again. “Flagman’s Folly does seem like a nice place,” he said, choosing to misunderstand her. “At least, from what I’ve seen so far.”
“Uh-huh.” The ghost of a grin on her wrinkled face told him she hadn’t fallen for his redirection. But she rolled with it anyway. “From what I heard around the office the other day, you got a fairly good glimpse of Signal Street.”
Frowning, he looked over to Lianne and back again.
“Nope,” the older woman said.
“Caleb?” Even as she shook her head, he strung her words together and made the connection. “You work at Town Hall.”
She nodded. “As town clerk for more than forty years now. That’s a lot of water under the bridge.”
And a long history of loyalty to Judge Baylor, he’d bet.
Should have heeded Caleb’s warning after all.
After tonight he’d make sure to keep away from he
r.
“The judge has almost as much experience reading folks as I have,” she said, “though he’s not quite as generous in giving them the benefit of the doubt. Early on, anyway. He’s seen too many situations where folks have let circumstances steer them in the wrong direction.” She couldn’t have made it any more clear that she knew all about his situation. And she didn’t bother to hide the gleam in her eyes.
Damn him—though he wanted not to care, his desire to learn more equaled hers. “Does everybody in Flagman’s Folly know what’s brought me here?”
Again she shook her head. “Most folks know Caleb brought you here, and that’s the extent of it. But he and the judge get along.”
He grimaced. “Should I expect the sheriff on my doorstep at dawn?” Better that than the rude awakening the other morning.
She laughed. “Not likely. Don’t take it too hard, Ryan.” The kindness in her tone suddenly made him wonder about that glimmer he’d seen in her eyes.
Thinking about that glimmer suddenly made him envision Lianne standing beside the truck. He blinked and focused on Ellamae again.
“The judge provides a sounding board for a lot of folks around here,” she said. “But he knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“And you?”
“I know everything that goes on in Flagman’s Folly. Sooner or later.”
It hadn’t escaped him that she’d left the important part of his question hanging. He understood all about folks wanting to spread gossip, good and bad, throughout their small town. Especially the bad.
Half of him wanted to say the hell with it, to walk away from this town and not look back. The other half knew he already stood on the verge of losing everything. One more wrong step, and he’d risk plunging over that edge.
* * *
OVER THE RIM of her magazine, Lianne checked out the coffee table. Napkins. One coffee mug. A carafe filled to the brim. And the full pan of brownies. Nothing to show she hadn’t just settled in for a Sunday-night chocolate fest on her own.
Nothing to show she was ready and waiting.
Since their dinner at the Whistlestop a week ago, Ryan had stayed true to his word. He’d done his job and left her to do hers. Unless Caleb had a reason to talk to them together, they rarely saw each other. If their paths did happen to cross, they managed to keep the conversation civil.
When Ryan was upstairs in his bedroom, just down the hall from hers, she even did her best not to make too much noise…if she remembered. Her forgetfulness about that had been a source of never-ending complaint with Mark, too.
Maybe this sharing a house would work out.
They hadn’t discussed his reaction to her being deaf. Or the fact that she was deaf. In fact, except for his momentary surprise at her announcement, whether or not she could hear hadn’t seemed to register on his radar at all. A unique experience for her.
She should just give thanks for his lack of response since she’d given him the news.
But most likely, judging by her latest experience with a hearing man, they needed to get the issue out in the open. The thought had led her to detour to Harley’s General Store on her way home from Kayla and Sam’s this afternoon.
Despite her good intentions to watch for Ryan, he seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Oh, hi.” The tightness of her throat told her she hadn’t managed a casual tone at all. She tried again. “Want a brownie?”
He couldn’t mask his surprise—not from someone who depended on reading expressions the way she did. Yet even with a lifetime of experience, she couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “If the coffee’s on offer, too, I’ll go grab an extra mug.”
He left the room and she rolled her eyes and told herself to get a grip. Except she already had one on the magazine she was crumpling in her fingers. Immediately, she forced her hands to relax. This was a simple snack. He wasn’t a date. She could act like a rational woman.
She fanned herself with the magazine.
Yes, he had come in and showered earlier, then gone out to the bunkhouse for dinner with the cowboys. He had done that every night this week. But this was the first time he had changed into shorts no larger than a scrap of denim and a faded blue T-shirt that clung like the plastic wrap she’d covered the pan of brownies with.
On the couch beside her, the screen of her cell phone lit up. She grabbed the phone—her lifeline, she called it. Her link to both her worlds, hearing and deaf. And, right now, it also provided a distraction she welcomed.
As she was responding to the text, Ryan came back with the mug. He took a chair across from where she sat on the couch.
“I just had a message.” She waved with the phone and reached up with her free hand to find the lamp switch. The overhead light she had turned on earlier left his face partially shadowed—and she didn’t want to miss reading a word on his lips. Or miss his lips, for that matter.
Get a grip.
She shouldn’t have needed to repeat the warning. Or to have told herself the first time.
“Caleb’s on his way over,” she said.
“I figured he’d be spending the evening with the family.”
“So did I. That’s where I thought he was all day. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him.”
“He was down in Tucumcari.”
“Umm…where?”
He repeated the name more slowly.
She still didn’t get it but knew it was somewhere she’d never heard of. She dropped the cell phone onto the couch. “He didn’t tell me his plans.”
He shrugged. “Ranch business.”
Meaning it didn’t concern her—in his opinion. “What kind of ranch business?”
“Checking into buying a stud mare.”
“Oh.”
He pointed to the tray of brownies. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. I wanted chocolate.” And something to fortify me during this talk. “How are things going?”
“All right.” He frowned. “Why?”
“Just making conversation.”
He said nothing.
She tried again. “How do you like working here?”
“Caleb has a good bunch of men on the payroll.”
“I’ve been tied up with the contractor’s crew. I haven’t met any of the cowboys yet.” When he said nothing, she went on, “Except Tony. I like him.”
“Me, too.” He poured coffee and took a sip.
“What do you think of New Mexico?”
“It’s nice enough, from what I’ve seen so far. I haven’t been anywhere but the Whistlestop and here. The environment’s different. The dryness takes some getting used to.”
“That’s for sure.” She sipped from her mug. “The other day, Caleb said you came down from his ranch in Montana. Have you got family back there?”
He had reached for the brownies and now held the knife suspended over the pan.
She waited a beat. Even though she’d asked a direct question, his lack of response almost didn’t surprise her. But when he didn’t move the knife, she frowned. “What’s the matter?”
He looked up. “I’m deciding how big a piece to cut. You having one?”
“Yes. And I’d better get it before you and Caleb start in. I saw how much you both ate at dinner last week.”
“Not our fault. Ellamae and Roselynn kept pushing seconds.”
“And thirds.” She took a napkin and a brownie.
He did the same and sat back in his chair. “You’re from the city, you said. Chicago.”
“That’s right.”
“The school will have lots of horses, according to Nate. You know about tending horses?”
“No, not a lot.”
“Surprising, since you’re running this ranch. Also according to Nate.”
“Of course I’m not. I’m project manager for the school. I do office and admin work. You know that. We discussed it last week. As I recall, we discussed my qualifications
then, too.”
Again he said nothing. Now she could clearly see doubt in his eyes. She set her mug on the table. Hot coffee splashed onto her thumb. Nothing she couldn’t handle—one wipe, one tight fist, and the crumpled napkin dropped into her lap.
“Trust me, Ryan, this project won’t be a problem for me. I’ve worked at all kinds of jobs in my life. This isn’t any harder than any of them.” She forced a smile. “I waitressed in college. That’s a lot tougher than maintaining a few spreadsheets.”
“How did you wait tables when you couldn’t hear the customers?”
Finally.
As out in the open as it could get.
He might have tried for simple curiosity in his tone. But she didn’t read tones. She read body language, expressions, gazes. Now she saw stiff shoulders, a tight jaw, narrowed eyes. Resistance. And plenty of doubt.
“I’m doing fine talking to you, aren’t I?” Well, fine except for the one miss—that she knew of. That happened with relying on lipreading alone.
He shrugged.
She sighed. “Look at it this way. How do you know to close the windows when there’s a storm coming? Or to figure out if a horse is sick? Or to be suspicious of a shady salesman?” No sense waiting for answers she knew wouldn’t come. “You use your eyes, your experience, your gut. You use whatever it takes in the situation. Right?”
Though he nodded, the slight tilt of his head said he still mistrusted her as much as he would any dishonest salesman.
She took a deep breath and let it out again. “I’m no different from anyone else. That’s what I do, too. With my customers, I used what I knew, starting with reading their lips.”
“Last week at the Whistlestop, I saw you struggling. Missing parts of the conversation. Not understanding everything folks said.”
What he said was true—and she would never deny a natural part of her life, a part she accepted every day. But his words stung because he felt it necessary to say them. To show he thought she was less than equal.
Blinding headlights swept a path outside the house. Caleb.
She stood, looking down at Ryan. “Not everyone’s easy to lip-read. In the case of my customers, I would ask them to write notes. Or have them point to what they wanted on the menu. We got the job done, just as I’ll do here.”
Rancher at Risk Page 5