Once Tempted

by Laura Moore

  Her answer had caused Ward to cough loudly, forcefully.

  Okay, did she care that he now realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had no clue what cowgirls liked to do—except maybe find handsome-as-sin dark-haired cowboys with gold-flecked eyes—which, by the way, wasn’t exclusive to cowgirls?

  It was strange to discover that the answer was yes. She did care what he thought. What had happened to her determined disdain? Had hearing about his rescue of Brian and seeing firsthand how generous he was with his friends obliterated it? That was reason enough for her change in attitude but she worried there was more to it than that.

  Luckily she had no chance to analyze her feelings further for Reid spoke. “Your version of a cowgirls’ weekend is”—his face split in a wide grin—“a tad unorthodox, but actually that might work to our advantage. It’d be a distinctly unique take on the theme. We would stand out from the other guest and dude ranches. What do you think, Ward?”

  Oh Lord, now she was going to have to look at him. Her pulse quickened.

  Ward’s expression was enigmatic. He was not a man she’d ever want to play poker with, especially when her thoughts kept circling back to what it would feel like to thread her fingers through the damp, silky thickness of his hair. She’d lose the shirt off her back to him within minutes—and wasn’t that a disturbingly appealing image?

  Blindly she reached for her coffee cup to hide behind, lowering it only when she heard him say, “Phil, how about getting to work figuring out when we can fit a cowgirls’ weekend into the calendar? Tess, would you mind consulting with Quinn on this? Between the two of you, I bet you’ll come up with a terrific package.”

  Good grief. Now she was going to have to hold her own against Quinn, cowgirl extraordinaire.

  THE MEETING BROKE soon after. Ward thanked Michael Parenti and Ted Dulchek for coming out to Silver Creek and asked them to draw up an estimate for revamping the ranch’s website. Then he turned to Phil.

  “Would you and Reid mind seeing Ted and Michael out? There’s something Reid wants to go over with you before he rides out to check on the cattle. I need to talk to Tess about Brian and Carrie’s wedding.”

  Tess, who’d been quietly sidling out of the room, stopped in her tracks and tried to remember how to breathe. Oh Lord, she was going to be alone with Ward.

  “Really, I can handle this on my own.” She hoped the asperity in her voice masked the fact that her pulse was beating triple time. Somehow, despite her repeated assurances, Ward had marched her back to her office, a small space that had shrunk two sizes now that he was standing in it. When she breathed she caught the soapy clean scent of him. It was making her lightheaded, and she was terrified she might say something irrevocably stupid, like, “Goddamnit, kiss me.”

  Indifferent to her condition, Ward stared down at the row of dresses spread out on the sisal rug. “Of course you can. But the sooner we get Carrie to choose her wedding gown, the sooner we can move on to the attendants’ dress. So, which one is it? This one?” His booted foot pointed to the one Reid had also unerringly chosen.

  It was ridiculous. Was there something in the Acacia water or the vegetables they grew at Silver Creek that was the reason both Knowles brothers possessed good looks and fashion sense? She crossed her arms over her chest and, bristling with defensiveness, demanded, “So why that one?”

  “It’s romantic. All that poufy stuff will look good on her.”

  “That’s tulle,” she said, happy to be able to tell him something.

  He arched a brow. “Tulle, burlap, whatever. It works.” He checked his watch. “Carrie’ll be home from the university by now. Let’s call her.” His tone was brisk and all businesslike as he pulled out his cellphone, so she nearly dropped the photocopies she’d gathered up from the floor when he said, “So your wedding dress, did it look like one of those?” He nodded to the papers fluttering in her hand.

  Overcompensating, she tightened her grip and felt the papers crease. With an effort, she made herself relax. “My wedding dress?”

  His thumb paused to hover over the keypad of his cell. “Yeah, what was yours like?”

  “I, uh, just wore a pretty dress. David and I were married at city hall.”

  He looked surprised. “Oh. I’d have thought you’d go for that sort of thing—”

  Sadness pierced her that David hadn’t understood that about her, or perhaps hadn’t cared. Yet Ward, who knew her far less well, already did.

  “We eloped. There was no need for anything formal.”

  He nodded. Perhaps it was because she sensed he didn’t intend to pursue the topic or press her for answers that she suddenly felt compelled to explain. “David and I decided it would be better if we skipped a church ceremony and save my parents the expense.”

  “I’m sure you took his breath away.”

  It was she who was robbed of breath. The quietly uttered compliment took her completely by surprise. Luckily she didn’t have to respond. Ward had raised the phone to his ear. His stance relaxed, his expression calm, he betrayed none of his thoughts. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew he was fully aware that she’d just revealed more about herself in the last five seconds than she had in the past six weeks.

  She didn’t have the time to worry or obsess about what he might think of the insight he’d gained, however, because Ward began speaking.

  “Hey, it’s me. Yeah, everything’s fine here. Listen, is Brian there? Out at the gym? No, that’s perfect. I don’t want him barging in. Guess what—Tess has been searching high and low for wedding dresses and thinks she’s found some you’ll really go for. Yeah, we only hire the best. Care to open your computer? She’s sitting down to send them to you as attachments. Once you’ve got them up on your screen, Tess can fill you in …”

  It took only twenty minutes for Ward—with a few carefully inserted suggestions from her—to help Carrie winnow the dresses down to five and drop the subtle hint that the frothy lace and tulle one was extraspecial. “Tess, Reid, and I think you might just look as stunning in it as one of those galaxies you study, kiddo.”

  And she’d thought Reid was the one with the silver tongue. It was just one more opinion about Ward she’d have to revise.

  “You’ll know which is the gown that’s perfect for you when you slip it on,” Tess said.

  “I can’t wait. This wedding stuff is far more fun than I ever dreamed it would be. Of course, that’s largely thanks to you, Tess. And you, too, Ward, for providing Tess as our planner and for giving us such a beautiful place to hold the wedding. I can’t wait to call my mom and see if she can drive up to Boston so we can go shopping on the weekend. Oh! I have some good news: Our minister said he’d be happy to fly out and perform the ceremony. He’s such a great guy. And Mom said she’d send me the list of guests she and Dad want to add tomorrow. She says it probably won’t top forty but she simply must invite them.” As she pronounced the word “must,” Carrie raised her hands to make twin air quotes. “Since it’s a destination wedding she’s sure that many of them will decline.”

  Both Ward and Tess smiled, remaining scrupulously polite rather than voicing their skepticism. Destination weddings were sometimes a great draw, with the guests deciding to expand the wedding event into a longer vacation trip. In her excitement over the dresses she’d selected to try, Carrie didn’t notice their silence. “And Mom and Dad think Brian and I should come out to Acacia and meet you, Tess, so we can go over all the wedding details together. My dad is giving us his miles. I’m so happy,” she said and laughed.

  “That’s terrific. It will give us a chance to make lots of decisions.” Tess’s mind was already whirring as she compiled a mental list of the essential items she could have them decide on during the visit: the photographer/videographer, the makeup artist and hairstylist, the floral arrangements, and the wedding cake and menu tasting—essentials that couldn’t be properly considered talking over the phone or using FaceTime.

  But there was one topic she could addres
s now. And the sooner she got the specifics down, the sooner she could draft the wedding invitation to send to Carrie and Brian for their approval.

  “I did want to float one idea I had,” she said. “I looked up the lunar calendar and it’s supposed to be a full moon on that Saturday. I thought it might be nice if you chose to have the dinner and dancing alfresco. Dancing under the stars with your husband might be a lovely way to celebrate the start of your and Brian’s new life together.”

  “Dancing with Brian under a full moon after we’ve just said our vows? I think I’m gonna cry.”

  Tess smiled and made a mental note to stock boxes of Kleenex in preparation for Carrie’s visit to Silver Creek. “So do you think you’d like to schedule the wedding ceremony for five in the afternoon?”

  “Yes, and I’m sure Brian will love the idea. If we have it at five o’clock we don’t have too long a wait to start celebrating. Brian does love a party.”

  “Well, just let me know as soon as you can so I can create a mock-up of the wedding invite for you. The invitations need to go out ASAP.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Carrie replied, saluting. “Mom’s going to love you.”

  They said goodbye shortly after that so Carrie could call her mother with the news about the dresses.

  “You handled that like a pro, Tess.”

  Feeling the weight of his gaze on her, Tess busied herself closing the windows of her computer, staring at the vanishing icons as the screen went blank as if in wonder at such a sight.

  “Well, it’d be kind of pathetic if I had no aptitude for my self-professed dream job. And don’t breathe easy yet—there’s still plenty of opportunities for a screw-up of epic proportions.” She certainly didn’t plan to make one, though.

  “Duly warned. At least I can rest easy knowing I won’t have to take Brian out for a midnight ride when he finds out Carrie’s pregnant with his best buddy’s—his ex-best buddy’s—child.”

  “Huh?” Then, remembering the staff meeting where Quinn and Reid described one of the previous horrible weddings they’d had to host—or police—she said, “Yeah, you should be spared that fun.”

  “Speaking of fun, I was wondering whether you’d like to be responsible for doing the tweets and Pinterest board.”

  She rose from her chair, fighting the urge to jump out of it. “I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

  “Hmm. Why not?” With a lazy kind of interest he watched her pace the confines of her small office.

  “Because to do it right, you need people like you or Reid or the guys who work on the ranch to take pictures. It shouldn’t be just the guest lodge.” She paused. “How about Quinn?”

  “Not a good risk. Can’t trust her not to tweet something totally inappropriate.”

  Damn. She knew that. The first time she’d met her, Quinn was wearing a shirt that had “There are more horses’ asses than horses in the world” emblazoned across it.

  “At least she knows something about the ranch—”

  “Moreover, Quinn would lose interest in tweeting in about three days, max. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not that technologically oriented a family.”

  “Well, what about one of your hands?” She really did not want to take this job on.

  He cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was all patience. “The thing about ranch hands is that they’re generally using them—so it would be kind of unreasonable to expect them to carry around iPhones so they could type texts and snap pictures.”

  “See, I didn’t know that. That just shows you how ill-suited I am.” A bit of a stretch, but she wasn’t going to let go of that line of argument. It was her lifeline.

  “One of the best ways to learn is by doing.”

  So said Mr. Cowboy–Business Executive–Ranch Heir, she retorted silently. She didn’t have to say yes, she told herself.

  “Out of curiosity, is there a reason you don’t want to do the job?” he asked.

  “Other than the fact that overseeing the event planning for Silver Creek and handling Carrie and Brian’s wedding is already pretty time-consuming?”

  “The tweeting one hundred and forty characters and taking pics would take maybe half an hour out of your day—”

  “Which is not an insignificant chunk of time when I’m organizing a destination wedding. And if we’re exchanging philosophies here, buster, I’d argue that everyone has their area of expertise. Mine doesn’t cover the great outdoors and four-legged creatures. I have no interest in taking pictures of sheep and cattle.” Her lofty tone told him he could stick that in his pipe and smoke it.

  His slow, knowing smile had her stiffening. “I get it. You’re scared of animals.”

  Scared spitless, but darned if she was going to admit that. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t know much about them. Not everyone grows up surrounded by animals that bleat and moo, you know.” Or have really big hooves, she added silently.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What about ones that woof and meow? I know you lived in the city, but didn’t your family even have a dog or a cat?”

  “We couldn’t. Chris—”

  She stopped. Being in Ward’s company was turning into a bare-your-soul fest, except it seemed like she was doing all the baring.

  “Chris? Who’s that?”

  All right. Maybe this would shut him up. Better still, maybe the pitying look she’d seen on so many other faces would steal over his and she would be the one to stop talking. She quit her pacing and turned, watching him as she presented the bald facts. “My older brother, Christopher, suffers from severe autism. In his case it presents with frequent, uncontrolled outbursts. When Christopher still lived with us, my parents—my mom principally, since Dad was at work for most of the day—couldn’t risk having a pet for fear that Christopher might have an episode near the pet and it would react by trying to defend itself.”

  “I’m sorry about your brother. I’ve read that sometimes animals can help people afflicted with autism.”

  Her nod was more a jerk of the head. “I know. Some patients at Chris’s facility get visits from therapy dogs. They tried with him, but it had the opposite effect. He becomes severely agitated. If Chris gets upset for too long, it gets kind of intense and not in a good way, and he has to be given extra medication, which no one wants.” She realized that at some point in her explanation she’d folded her arms across her middle. Her fingers were digging into her elbows. She made herself relax her hands.

  “Your brother’s condition must have been rough on your family.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes early detection and therapy can really help, though even then it’s a question whether as adults they’ll be able to live independently. Unfortunately with Chris he’ll never be able to live outside an institution. But at least he’s in a good facility and it’s close enough for Mom to visit him every day. When Chris was still at home, keeping him safe was a full-time job for her. Now she can help Dad a little with the bookkeeping for his construction company. It’s a tiny operation, but still.” She shrugged. “So to make a long story short, the only animal I got to know as a kid was the Angottis’ dog, Caesar. I don’t know what kind he was. He looked like a dirty mop with teeth. Caesar used to hide behind a bush in the front yard, lying in wait as I walked to and from school. Every day, he’d race out, those sharp teeth bared, and try to bite me.”

  “We don’t have any dogs of that description on the ranch.”

  “That’s good, ’cause that was one nasty, vicious beast. He made Dracula look friendly.”

  A grin pulled the corners of his mouth. “Listen, I really want you to do the Twitter/Pinterest posts. I think you could make them fun and appealing, and generate interest in the ranch. How about we make a deal? You do the tweets and take the snapshots, and I’ll look around for a decent used car—one that won’t catch fire after a few thousand miles.”

  A car. It would liberate her from those hellish taxi rides with Ralph Cummins. The prospect was so enticing she ditched
any snarky replies that contained “car killer” in them. “How about you just give me the money and I find my own car?”

  “Nope. I’ll do the looking. You seem to know as much about automobiles as you do animals—barely enough to fill a thimble.”

  He didn’t seem fazed when she narrowed her eyes.

  “So, how about it? You do the Twitter stuff; I’ll put out some feelers out and find you a decent car.”

  When she still hesitated, he added, “I’ll owe you big-time, Tess.”

  “Oh, all right,” she said with a show of reluctance so that he wouldn’t think she was the world’s softest touch.

  “Thanks. So, we better get you acquainted with the ranch and its creatures large and small. Let’s start with the least scary animals imaginable—the newborn lambs. Before you know it we’ll have you roping steer. Come on.”

  She gaped at him. “What, you mean now?”

  “No time like the present.” His grin was cheerful and, she thought, evil. “I’d recommend changing into some jeans, though. You want me to pick you up at your cabin?”

  “No! No,” she repeated somewhat less hysterically. The last thing she wanted was to have Ward filling her cabin with his presence. “I’ll meet you down at the, uh, barn.”

  “Barns,” he corrected. “The sheep are in the smaller one on the right. See you in a few.”

  “Yeah, in a few,” she echoed weakly. Oh God, she thought. This was going to be a mistake. A big mistake.