by Casey Hagen
He pulled off the road as carefully as he could, but dust still billowed up. Luckily a breeze carried it off to the side and not right into Ryan’s face. He turned to tell Ivy to stay there, but not in time, because she was already scrambling out of her seat.
With a sigh, he climbed out of his truck and joined his daughter.
“My name is Ivy. What’s your name?” she said with her hand outstretched.
Ryan knelt down to Ivy’s height. “My name is Ryan. It’s nice to meet you, Ivy,” Ryan said, shaking Ivy’s hand.
“What happened to your neck and eye?” Ivy asked as she peered closer at the bruises.
“Would you believe I had to play superhero and fight some bad guys?” Ryan glanced up at him and winked.
Shit.
“Reeaaalllllyyyyy?” Ivy asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said with a nod.
“What are you doing here?” he said, with a bit more agitation than necessary.
Ryan straightened and looked him straight in the eye, much like his daughter always did, and was doing right at the very moment. Jesus. Two fearless women. He didn’t stand a damn chance.
She gave him a smirk. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought maybe I would hop a train,” Ryan said.
Slade adjusted his hat to block the hot Texas sun. “Train doesn’t come through again until Monday.”
Ryan leaned back and took a sip of her drink. “Bummer.”
Hands on his hips, he looked around. “You don’t have a car?”
Ryan shrugged. “I have a truck, but I don’t have the money to get it from Rusty’s.”
She was stuck. No car, a broken guitar, and she looked like she had been in one hell of a fight. She was vulnerable prey out here. God forbid Cutter get out of lockup and stumble upon her.
Fuck.
“Hop in the truck; you can stay at our place.” He started to turn away, but stopped when she grabbed his arm.
Those big eyes flashed fire, and she squared her shoulders. “I don’t think so, Cowboy. I’m not looking for charity. I’m looking for a job.”
“Fine. You’re hired.”
“For what?”
“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck and scrambled for something, anything. “I have a ranch and some bunkhouses that need renovating.”
“Is there a place to stay there on your ranch?”
“I have guest rooms.” He bent down to pick up Ivy as the breeze kicked up, blowing dust in her eyes.
“What about meals, are they included?”
“Yeah, communal meals with the family and help combined.”
“What’s the pay?”
“Six-hundred, every two weeks.”
Her mouth spread in a brilliant smile. “Then you have yourself a deal.”
“Yes!” Ivy hissed with a fist-pump.
Five minutes later, he was back on the road to the Double C, heavy one beautiful stranger. Ivy sat between them with the biggest smile he had ever seen, chattering away about Smoke and all the other animals on the ranch. In one hour she had managed to get her red cowgirl boots, Ryan, and probably, before all was said and done, a handful of horses.
Nice to know he had control over his life.
“So now, we’re going to look at horses. Daddy said I can get one. If I find one right for me,” Ivy told Ryan.
Ryan eyed him over Ivy’s head. He resisted the urge to tug at his T-shirt collar.
“Is that right?” Ryan said.
“It’s time. She’s been patiently waiting for six months,” Slade said as he turned in to the Double C. Slade hopped out of the truck, escaping Ryan’s knowing look.
Tony greeted them in the driveway. “You’ve picked up a third along the way,” Tony said, shaking Slade’s hand.
“Sure did. This is Ryan. Ryan, this Tony Carlton, owner of the Double C,” Slade said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tony.”
“And you, Ryan.” Tony tilted his head and hitched his chin at her. “Run into some trouble?”
“Yeah, but lucky for me, someone lent a helping hand.” She smiled up at Slade, and damned if he didn’t stand up a little straighter.
“Interesting,” Tony said.
“Not really,” Slade said. He regretted his words the minute he said them. His intention had been to shut down Tony’s sudden interest in the situation, which he did, but when he caught a glimpse of Ryan and the way her smile slipped just a bit, he knew that he had hurt her.
Tony glanced between the two of them. “Okay then, let’s go take a look at what I’ve got.”
At the entrance to the barn, Ryan stopped. “Why don’t you guys go ahead? I’ve got a phone call to make.”
“But don’t you want to see the horses, too? Maybe you can get one,” Ivy said.
Ryan knelt down. “Now isn’t the best time for me to be looking at a horse. I move around a lot. You go ahead.”
Ivy walked off with Tony, but Slade hung back. “Look, if this is about what I said before…”
“It’s not,” Ryan said. A horse whinnied from somewhere in the barn and she backed up a step.
Slade frowned. “Are you afraid of horses?”
She scrunched up her face. “Maybe, just a little bit.”
“Why?”
“Because I was thrown from one when I was young, and since then they’re always fidgety around me. I must give off some sort of something, because they don’t like me.”
Slade laughed. “It’s not because they don’t like you. They sense the fear. Horses react to the emotions you put out there.”
“Yeah, well, if that’s true, I’m not going in there and stirring them up. Ivy needs to pick the right horse; that’s the most important thing right now.”
He had resisted getting too involved at Lucifer’s. Ryan had trouble written all over her and, against his better judgment, with the added pressure from his daughter’s kind heart, he’d invited Ryan to his home despite the danger that might follow. He didn’t want to like her, but the minute she refused to go in based on what was best for Ivy, his position shifted.
He hadn’t been serious with a woman since his ex-wife, other than a casual date here and there. Those nights ended with a mutually beneficial physical release, with no commitment. That suited him. He hadn’t been tempted, until now, with possibly the most mysterious woman of all, and whatever danger she was running from, not far behind.
And that scared the hell out of him.
He glanced down to her, and the dad in him overpowered the man. “You’re temporary. Don’t break my daughter’s heart.”
4
Ryan had steered clear of Slade after his chilly warning the afternoon before. With her wallet dangerously empty, like a V-8 running on fumes, she decided to text her father instead of calling. After her other phone calls, she tossed her phone and bought another, but right now she didn’t have the luxury of buying even the most basic pay-as-you-go phone.
Actually, if she were honest, she had been damn lucky Slade had stumbled upon her. Truth was she was going to hitchhike and see how it went. She had taken self-defense courses. Funny thing about those: they only worked if you actually applied the lessons. Two times she was attacked. Two times she’d failed to engage.
Had Slade not crossed her path, who knows if hitching a ride would have worked out or not? At best, she would be broke in another city, with no truck, no place to stay, no money, and no working guitar to earn money. At worst, she would have a third chance to apply her self-defense lessons.
Third time was the charm, right?
Well, she wouldn’t admit it to the man, especially not after what he had said about her being temporary, but she breathed a sigh of relief when Slade offered her a job. Even better, it came with a place to stay. She sat up in the bed, pulled back the sheer ivory curtain, and peered out at the activity outside. Ranch hands milled about, laughing, crossing from the bunkhouses into the barns, most carrying their morning coffee as they moved about feeding the animals.
&nbs
p; It might be the best view she had ever seen. Everyone looked so settled, comfortable, like they belonged. They weren’t rushing; there was no irritation, and no calculation. What would it be like to have a life like this? People you enjoyed working with. Coworkers you would never refer to as coworkers because you lived, worked, and shared meals together.
The job Slade offered ran two weeks. She would never be one of them. She would never look like she fit in here, even if a part of her, deep down, wished to belong.
She sighed and got out of bed. She didn’t have a report time, but the ranch had woken up and that meant it was time for her to get her butt in gear. She made her bed and dressed in jean shorts and a tank top. The heat climbed into the eighties in June, hotter in other parts of Texas, but being near the mountains helped keep them cooler than other areas. Still, cleaning would be hot work, so she gathered her long hair in a ponytail.
Just as she was about to spread concealer over her cheekbone, she stopped. This was silly. Slade knew about her black eye; hell, everyone knew. Why bother hiding it anymore? The worst of it was gone, leaving a faded discoloration that was slowly shrinking. In a handful of days, no one would even know it had been there.
Well, no one but her. She might always see the bruise now. The ones around her neck, those were another story. She had earned those while not being a gutless coward. At least thirty people stood around watching Cutter attack her, most of them men. Slade was the only one man enough to put an end to it.
For that reason alone, she let his biting comment from the previous afternoon go.
She went downstairs, to find Myra at the sink, washing dishes. “Can I help you with those?” Ryan asked.
“Thanks for the offer, honey, but I’ve got it. I’ve gotten used to cleaning up after this crew. They’re respectful-like and make it easy.” Myra turned to her while drying her hands. “You missed breakfast, but we have some left over. You hungry?”
“Maybe just one of these muffins, thanks.” Ryan took a blueberry muffin off the cooling rack and sat at the kitchen table with it. Was she late for work? He’d never made it clear what time she needed to report. As a matter of fact, he steered clear of her after they returned to the ranch. If she had to guess, she would say he was avoiding her.
“Cutter did one hell of a job on that throat of yours. Did you get any licks in?” Myra asked, sitting down across from Ryan with her coffee.
“Not a one, unfortunately. I forgot everything I knew about defending myself.”
Myra shrugged. “That’s too bad. I would have loved to hear that he got a kick in the short and curlies.”
Ryan choked on her muffin. Myra jumped up and starting thumping her back, hard. Of course, that’s the moment Slade walked in.
“I’m good now,” Ryan croaked. Worn blue jeans hugged muscled thighs. The gray T-shirt stretched over his chest, revealing every curve and valley of his sculpted muscles. Ryan sighed, well, as much as she could sigh with crumbs still trying to climb into her lungs.
Slade slid off his hat and frowned down at them. “What happened?”
Myra waved him off. “Eh, she’s just not used to my plain-speak, is all.”
Slade laughed. The rough sound caught Ryan’s attention and she forgot about the way tears ran down her cheeks from choking. She forgot about her exposed bruises. Instead, she listened, fascinated by the sound. He had only broken a smile once or twice, and that was the night Cutter choked her.
Yesterday, his mouth had gone from a flat line to a permanent scowl. By the time Ivy had said good night to Ryan, giving her a big hug and kiss, Slade had begun grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw.
She should document the effect she had on men. Maybe she exuded some natural irritant.
“You ready?” Slade said.
There it was… that scowl.
“Now you cut that out,” Myra waved her towel at him.
“What did I do?” Slade asked.
“You’ve got that pinched look on your face, like you’ve got the trots. I’m warning you…be nice,” Myra said, pointing a finger in his direction.
“Jesus.” Slade scratched his head and replaced his hat. “I’ll be waiting on the front porch when you’re done.” Red in the face, he walked out the front door.
“Is he always this grumpy?”
“Can’t say that I’ve ever seen him this grumpy. If it wasn’t so annoying, it would be funny.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, honey, I think you might have done something just right.” Myra smiled.
Ryan walked out to the porch, where she found Slade pacing.
“Slade?”
He whirled around and glared. “You ready?”
She didn’t know what burr was up his butt, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to let his bad mood spoil her good one. “Sure. Lead the way.”
She never considered herself short until now, trying to keep up with Slade as he ate up the distance across the driveway to the bunkhouses.
The bunkhouses each resembled small cabins running side-by-side, along the opposite side of the driveway, in front of a line of Texas ash trees. Each had a small front porch with a rocking chair. She had spent her life in big houses. The smallest she could remember was at least six-thousand square feet. Every bedroom had a fireplace. She should have loved it, but all she could remember was feeling like their house was more of a museum than a home.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing even a speck of dust, shoes left scattered about, or unopened mail on the counter. Her mother had run the house like a well-oiled machine before she had left her father. After, the senator made sure to have a small army of staff at all times to keep things in order.
And to watch her while he was away. Which made her wonder. “Where’s Ivy?”
Slade stopped and turned to her. “She’s in the horse barn. Why?”
“Well, I thought I might say good morning to her. You know, like a civilized human being. Do you remember civilized?”
His mouth twitched. “I think I may recall.”
The sun shined in her eyes, so she shielded her face with her hand. “Careful there, Cowboy, you almost broke a smile.”
“Look, I’m sorry. Ivy… she’s been through a lot. I don’t want her hurt anymore.”
“Being her friend isn’t going to hurt her.”
“No, but you’ll eventually leave, and if she gets too attached she’ll be devastated.”
There was no arguing with that. All he was doing was being a good dad. “I’ll be careful.”
“That’s all I ask.” He gestured to the door over his shoulder. “This is Levi’s place. He manages the ranch hands. They’re all the same on the inside, but his is the best shot at being clean.” With a double knock, he pushed open the door.
The cabin was a wide open room with a small living area to the left, a double bed against the wall to the far right. A counter ran along the back with a small sink, a two-burner stove top, and ending with a small fridge. A door in the back corner, from the looks, led to a small bathroom with a standing shower. It was a small, but surprisingly comfortable space.
“Good morning, boss,” Levi said as he slid his hat onto his head.
“Morning, Levi. This is Ryan; she’ll be working on getting the other two bunkhouses in order.”
“Ryan, nice to meet you,” Levi said as he shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you as well.” From the corner of her eye, just past Levi’s shoulder, she spotted his guitar. “Your guitar is beautiful.”
“Thanks. You play?”
“I do, well, I did…before Cutter snapped the neck of mine.”
Levi scratched his chin. “Yeah, word got around about that. You’ll want to stay away from that one. He’s no good. One of these days he’s going to self-destruct completely. We’d all do good to steer clear when it happens.”
“Oh, believe me, lesson learned.”
He examined the marks around her neck. “I would say it was. If you’ll ex
cuse me, I’d best be getting out there.” Levi opened the door, but just before he stepped out he turned back. “If you’d like to use my guitar while you’re here at the ranch, you’re welcome to take it. I don’t play much anymore.” He lifted his hands, curled, and extended his fingers a couple times. “Arthritis.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’d rather have someone use it than just have it sittin’ there collecting dust.”
It may not be performing, but at least she could play again. Going more than a couple days without holding a guitar made her twitchy. “Then I’ll take you up on that. Thanks.”
The door clicked shut and Slade slanted a look at her. “You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
“At getting people to like you. I don’t get it.”
“What’s so hard to get? I’m polite. I make eye contact. I smile. Boom. Friendship established. You should try it some time. Polish up those people skills, because, frankly, this grunting and glaring thing you have going on is beneath you.”
He sauntered up to her. Or swaggered. She didn’t know what they called it in Texas, but she had only seen it in movies and old Westerns. In those, it looked cheesy. On Slade, well, if she were a scoop of ice cream on an ice cream cone, she would be running rivers down the sides.
“It’s beneath me, huh? For whatever reason, you bring it out in me.” He searched her eyes. She would swear seeing all the way into her. “What did you do for a living before?”
Uh-oh. She really wasn’t ready for this. “You know what I did, I played my guitar.”
“No, before you ran from whatever or whoever you’re running from.”
“Who says I’m running?”
“I would bet my bank account on it, and that’s no small bet.”
She flipped her ponytail. “Bragging about your wealth, so not attractive.”
He crowded her space and short-circuited her brain. “You’re avoiding. Come on, what did you do for a living? I think as your employer I deserve to know.”
The wall of body heat he exuded met her sensitive skin. The smell of soap, hay, and fresh air clung to him, teasing her senses.
No, no, no, damn it. No men.
Especially not this one. He was too big and too cranky. Plus, he signed her paycheck. Which was also the reason she needed to be honest and tell him. “I was the personal assistant and event coordinator for Senator Abel Ward.”