Halfway to the barn, Tony eyed him. “You and Lianne go out riding together this morning?”
The man asked his question as casually as if, like these chats on the porch, his going riding with Lianne had become just another daily occurrence. The truth was that they hadn’t been riding again since the day of the incident. And that day, although he and Lianne had returned to the ranch at the same time, they hadn’t talked on the way back from the ridge. He’d had a feeling she would’ve liked to have left him in the dust again, too.
He swallowed a sigh. He didn’t want to think about Lianne. Bad enough he’d had to face her every day since then.
Since his latest wrong move with one of Caleb’s employees.
“No,” he said flatly. “She probably ran into town. Or out to her sister’s.”
“Maybe. She hasn’t been around. Since you both came riding in together that day, I figured you might’ve gone out again.”
Not wanting to cut the old man off but not wanting to hear him running on about Lianne, either, he said, “I was working out by the corral all morning.”
Just before noon he’d come in and taken a shower at the house. He hadn’t seen her at all. Hadn’t heard her, either.
He took a swig from the water bottle he’d carried from the bunkhouse, needing to do something with his hands. It seemed as if every time he did think of her, he wanted to touch her.
What a damned fool.
They’d reached the barn, and Tony stood eyeing him.
“The reason I asked about you and Lianne…”
That was Tony. Never would quit till he’d had his say. “Yeah?”
“You missed a visitor while you were gone.”
“Who would that be?”
“Feisty gray-haired woman. Walked right into the barn like she owned it. Said she was Caleb’s aunt.”
“Sounds like her. Ellamae?”
“That would be the one.”
He hadn’t seen her since the night at the Whistlestop Inn. Counting back, he frowned. A few weeks ago now, that was. He’d have expected her out here before now. Much before.
“She and I had quite a little talk,” Tony said.
Between the two of them, they’d probably covered any news to be had in Flagman’s Folly. Including his? But Tony wasn’t acting any different than usual. “I don’t know why she would’ve come to the barn. She must’ve been looking for Lianne.”
“She made a point of saying she wanted to talk to you. Said she’d stop by again soon. Speaking of feisty women,” Tony went on, “Lianne’s got some pluck, too. Y’know, after you went off to the bunkhouse that day, I stayed working in here. A while later she marched in—just like that Ellamae—and said she wanted me to show her how to groom a horse.”
“Did she?”
“Yep. And she wouldn’t let me do a thing for her.”
“Yeah. That sounds like her, too.” He shook his head. “How did you…explain things?”
“Didn’t have to. Like I said, she wanted me to show her. I took one horse, she took another. She just watched me and followed along.”
I can handle this.
The near-empty water bottle crackled as he squeezed it in his fist.
He wouldn’t care to swear in Judge Baylor’s courtroom whether the automatic reaction came from irritation or anger. Most likely a bit of both, along with a good measure of disgust.
With himself.
What the hell kind of man was he? How could he lust after another woman when he hadn’t yet come to terms with losing his wife and child?
He entered the ranch house and trudged up the stairs.
Lianne had the right idea. He had kissed her, and she had thought of her job.
That was where his head should have been, too, instead of getting wrapped up in her story. Instead of getting caught by the vulnerability in her eyes.
Halfway up the stairs, he heard the sound of water running. A few steps down the hall, he saw the bathroom door standing ajar, revealing only the steam-misted mirror and a pile of clothing perched haphazardly on the edge of the sink.
As he went to pass the door on the way to his room, Lianne moved into view, her back to him. He stopped dead in his tracks. If she could have heard his footsteps, she would already have pushed the door closed. That fact made him think twice about standing there looking.
But like a hog-tied bull, he couldn’t have broken free if he’d tried.
Plump water drops trickled along her shoulders and arms. Wet hair streamed down her bare back, dampening the towel she’d wrapped low on her hips. This was worse than the morning he’d stood out in the open watching her stretch in the sun.
Hell, no. It was much better.
Water dribbled down the steam-fogged mirror, leaving tiny tracks that offered tantalizing views. His mouth went so dry he’d have willingly licked some of that moisture away if only he could have gotten into the room.
Still unaware of him, she poured lotion into her hand, then rubbed her palms together and leaned down to run both hands over her calves, leaving twin creamy white streaks behind.
He shoved his hands into his back pockets.
Without any help from him at all, the fog on the mirror began to clear.
As she bent from the waist, massaging the lotion into her skin, the edge of the bathroom counter blocked his view of all but the curved tops of her breasts and the start of the deep V plunging between them.
He couldn’t take much more of this torture. He couldn’t stay there, either, without feeling like the world’s biggest heel.
The last thought gave him the strength to back away.
Somehow he found the wits to get past the door and down the hall and into his room.
Chapter Nine
Ryan stood just outside the office, bracing himself.
When Lianne finally spotted him standing in the doorway, she looked him up and down, from the fresh Western shirt and jeans he’d put on after his shower to the spit-polished pair of boots that had never seen a stirrup or spur.
“What are you doing here?”
He made a show of looking at his watch. “I’m early for the interview.”
“I thought we’d decided I could handle these myself.”
“You decided. I’m here.”
“Ryan—”
The lamp near the coffeemaker began to flash rapidly at the same time the doorbell rang. He frowned. A short in the wiring?
“It’s connected to the bell,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. “You must not be the only one early for the interview.” She brushed past him, looking good in a button-down white silk shirt, a black skirt and low heels that still managed to make her long legs look longer.
When he realized he’d stood staring till she got all the way to the front door, he hustled into the room.
Taking the power position in the desk chair would be a nice touch. But on second thought, he decided to stand. He leaned against the credenza behind the desk and crossed his arms.
Lianne came into the room with a teenaged boy who looked as spit-shined as Ryan’s boots and not yet half as old.
“Ryan, this is Billy Maxwell.”
Billy.
Ryan froze, his hand half-outstretched.
A familiar name—but not one from the stack of resumes she’d given him. If it had been, he’d never have forgotten.
He shook hands with the kid and returned to his seat again.
Lianne looked at him. “Wouldn’t you prefer a chair?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She sat behind the desk and the kid took one of the chairs at the front.
Jaw clamped tight, he watched and listened as they chatted about folks in town and the kid’s graduation, coming up later in the month.
Good way to break in the ice, get the applicant comfortable. She had the right idea. But when the chat went on and the interview questions never began, he frowned.
When they both finally stopped for breath, he said, “Did you bring a resume wi
th you?”
Billy looked up. “No, I didn’t.”
Lianne glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ryan…” She gestured to the vacant chair beside Billy’s.
He waved the offer away and looked at the kid. “Where are you working now?”
“At Harley’s General. On Signal Street.”
“What’s your position?”
Lianne rose and moved to stand beside the filing cabinet.
“It’s a grocery store,” Billy said. “I work the register there after school and on weekends.”
He nodded. “Have you got any other experience? Have you worked with troubled teens before?”
Billy shook his head.
Lianne opened a drawer in the cabinet and pulled out a folder. She plucked a sheet of paper from it and handed it to the kid. “Billy, I appreciate your taking the time to stop by this afternoon. We’re asking applicants to complete this form. You’re working tomorrow, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Great. If you’ll take this with you and fill it out, I’ll pick it up from you at Harley’s.”
The kid nodded and shook hands with Ryan. Lianne escorted him from the room.
Ryan settled back on the credenza.
She returned within two minutes, stalking in on those heels. “Ryan.” She took a deep breath. “What is this?” She gestured at him, indicating his seat on the credenza and his crossed arms.
“It’s comfortable.”
“It’s intimidating, especially for someone who doesn’t have much experience with interviews.”
“You told me you knew what you were doing.”
“Very funny.” But she didn’t smile. “I sincerely hope the next interviews go better than this one did,” she said. “And that you’ll reconsider what it means to work together.”
He’d have bristled at the words if her voice hadn’t suddenly gone low and soft.
She sighed. “If you sit behind me, I can’t participate in the conversation very well.”
Hell. The day at the construction site all over again. She couldn’t see the kid when she’d climbed the stairs. She couldn’t hear what he’d said to her when he’d almost run her down. Just as he had then, he said, “I forgot.”
“You forgot.”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes glistened. And just like that day at the site, he didn’t get why.
She shook her head. “Whatever. I’m not sure I understand what you were trying to do. Why did you jump in with those questions?”
He shrugged. “I thought you were floundering, so I asked the questions.”
“To help me?”
“To do my job.”
Her eyes gleamed again. She nodded shortly and left the room.
He gripped the edge of the credenza with both hands. The woman was going to drive him to distraction. Did she honest-to-Pete think she’d catch him with that bear trap of a question?
Yeah, he’d wanted to help her.
But that would be the last thing she’d want to know.
* * *
RYAN FINISHED OUTLINING the plans for tomorrow with the rest of the cowhands, then left the bunkhouse with Tony.
The old man began rehashing the events of his day and sharing whatever info, news and just plain gossip he had collected since their last talk.
Ryan never begrudged any of the time he spent here. But tonight, as he’d done so many times lately, he wished he didn’t have to fight to keep his mind from wandering.
The day of the interviews, the second one had gone worse than the first. Lianne hadn’t been able to read the applicant well at all, and he’d jumped in to help—damn the consequences.
He’d been dealing with the effects of his action since last week.
Their meetings ran strictly along business lines. Clipped discussions about the scouts and the school. Battles over whose job covered what responsibilities. Nothing personal. Nothing involving brownies and a cup of coffee. Nothing even close to a nice relaxed chat on the porch.
He shoved himself away from the railing. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You heading over to the house?”
“Don’t I always?” He eyed the old man. Neither of them needed to stop by the barn at the moment, which was why, as usual, they had settled against the rails. Tony didn’t jump in to respond, which wasn’t usual at all.
Maybe his leg was acting up again. There wasn’t much likelihood of the old man raising the subject in front of the cowhands. “You doing all right? Need some time off? I can get one of the boys to take over in the barn tomorrow.”
After Tony’s denial and a few more minutes on the porch, he crossed the yard and passed the barn on his way to the main house. By now his boots probably could’ve taken him there on autopilot.
This time, determination drove him. If he was ever going to prove to Caleb he could be trusted, he needed to get along with all the men—and the one woman—he supervised.
That meant getting control of this situation with Lianne, getting to know her—in a head-straight, hands-off way. Working with her, not butting heads on a regular basis. They needed to go somewhere besides the ranch, away from the triggers that kept them from having a normal conversation with each other. Away from the antagonism in that damned office.
Supper out would be the place to start. Neutral territory. A nice meal. Dessert… Something chocolate.
Inside the house, he found the office empty, the computer shut down and the desk completely cleared of paperwork.
He had no better luck in the kitchen.
That all changed when he returned to the living room and looked through the stair railing.
He saw her feet first, encased in strappy sandals with high heels. Then her legs, impossibly long and firm, going on until they finally disappeared beneath the edge of a green skirt that hugged her hips. A pale green top took care of snuggling the rest of her, and a waterfall of fresh-washed honey-blond hair tumbled around her shoulders.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs.
He reached up to loosen his tight collar…and found his work shirt already unsnapped. “Don’t you look nice.”
“Thanks.”
When she passed him, her rose-scented perfume drifted over to him. He leaned back against the stair rail and crossed his arms.
She took the chair closest to the door, easing onto the seat as if afraid of wrinkling her skirt.
He made a sweeping gesture, indicating her outfit. “Have plans for the night?”
She nodded.
Right. He wasn’t winning any awards for originality in this conversation. That didn’t matter, as long as he got to his goal. “I’d thought we might go out for a meal.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe another time.”
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea.” She dropped a satiny bag in her lap and smoothed her hands along her skirt.
“What’s wrong with having a meal?” he asked. “We spend plenty of time together on the ranch.”
“For business reasons.”
“Exactly. That’s just what I’m saying. We’ve had plenty of business meetings.”
“Oh, yes. Usually several times a day.” Her smile looked strained. He caught some additional tension beneath her words.
He’d felt plenty of stress lately, himself. “We haven’t spent much time together other than briefings in the office or going over to the construction site.”
Or hiking the trail.
She said nothing. He could sense her backing away.
“After all,” he said, “we’re working together. We ought to get to know each other. Go out to supper or for coffee once in a while, the way I go for a few beers with Tony and the guys.”
She stared back at him silently.
He heard the sound of a car driving up to the front of the house, followed by the vibration of her cell phone.
She reached into the bag on her lap and pulled out her cell phone, read the incoming message, and smiled—smiled, dammit—as
she tapped the keys.
He held his frustration in check. He had too much riding on this to mess it up.
Done with the phone, she dropped it into her bag. She rose from the chair and smoothed her skirt. Finally, she said, “I’ll think about it.”
* * *
RYAN HAD JUST finished brewing a pot of coffee when a knock came at the back door.
Lianne.
She’d changed her mind. Canceled her date. Sent the guy—whoever he was—packing. After she’d seen the kitchen light on, she had come around to the back of the house because…she’d…forgotten her key.
Yeah, right.
Still, smiling, he went to the back door and opened it.
“Glad you’re so happy to see me.” His visitor stood on the porch, looking up at him.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He stepped back. “But what are you doing here?”
Waving a deck of cards at him, Tony made his way across the room. “The boys are playing poker. I prefer a nice game of gin rummy.”
“Since when?”
The old man sat heavily in one of the oak kitchen chairs and slapped the deck on the table. “Since I saw that car drive off.”
He eyed him. “You couldn’t have seen a car from the bunkhouse.”
Tony shrugged and began shuffling the cards.
Frowning, he closed the door. “Coffee?”
“Sounds good. Got any of Lianne’s apple cake around?”
Apple cake?
“She keeps it over in that cabinet.” Tony pointed.
Hell, he’d barely been able to find the coffee. And she hadn’t offered him anything but a cup of coffee—in the office—since the night of the brownies. He put a mug on the table and slid the sugar bowl within Tony’s reach. “Spend a lot of time here?”
“A fair amount, lately.”
Earlier, when he’d left the bunkhouse, Tony hadn’t been his usual self. “You knew Lianne was going out tonight.” And decided to take pity on me.
He didn’t need to see the man’s nod to know he’d called it right.
Well, he didn’t need the sympathy. He was doing fine with the idea of Lianne being out with someone else. It was also fine that they never spent much time together in the evenings unless they had something to discuss—which they then discussed in the office.
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