Resisting the Rancher

by Kadie Scott

  Hell, she’d almost married one of the passengers on that crazy train.

  Time and experience had shown her Jason hadn’t damaged her heart so much as her pride. But once—just once—she wanted a man to love her for herself, and not for her last name. She wasn’t likely to get any unconditional love from her father. When her older brother had passed away in a car accident, Garrett Walker suddenly had to contend with the fact that his only heir was not only a woman, but the daughter he already blamed for killing his wife in childbirth.

  Probably to her father’s annoyance, she’d turned out relatively undamaged and self-reliant. And Rising Star would be hers one day, come hell or high water, despite her overbearing, dictatorial father and his old-fashioned opinions.

  After that kiss at the bar, she’d almost convinced herself Will might be different from the others. What a dadgum fool she turned out to be. Not as smart as she’d thought, that was obvious.

  Flipping on the radio, Rusty did her best to put her father and Williams Hill as far from her mind as possible. A little over an hour later, she was pulling into the rodeo grounds for Frontier Days. She took care of Mischief and got registered, but when she returned to her truck, she stopped in her tracks twenty feet away and considered ditching her vehicle and walking somewhere far, far away for lunch.

  Instead, she slowly approached the man waiting for her. “That must’ve been a fast meeting,” she said.

  Hard living had taken its toll. Dark skin, leathered by the sun set off pale blue eyes which could turn piercing faster than a stampeding herd. Tall and rail thin, her father might be described as rangy. He kept his face cleanly shaven and hair, more silver than black these days, he wore short and slicked back.

  She’d say he looked old, but his eyes were still too keen, and his body still in too good a condition to label him with that description.

  Her father shrugged. “I’d already done my research, but I have to—”

  “Look a man in the eye,” she filled in for him. He said it often enough. “So, it’s a done deal? What kind of partnership are you working out?”

  With the man who lit me on fire only to be doused by a bucket of cold reality.

  “For now, we’re discussing transportation and housing for the animals. He’s my conduit to more Texas circuit events, while I can help him in the Mountain, Prairie, and Badlands circuits.”

  She pursed her lips. “Sounds like a win-win, Daddy.”

  His mouth turned down at the name. He hated that she called him Daddy, which was why she did it. She ignored the frown and passed him up to open the driver-side door to her truck and toss her paperwork on the seat.

  When he didn’t leave, she raised her eyebrows. “Did you need something from me?”

  Her dad put his hands on his still-lean hips and directed his hardened gaze at her from under the brim of his hat, his eyes glittering with a light she didn’t quite trust. “You need to know that I’m changing the terms of my will.”

  Everything inside Rusty came to a screeching halt. He was talking inheritance, which meant the ranch.

  Schooling her features to not show her shock, Rusty crossed her arms. “Oh?”

  “Rising Star still goes to you…”

  A trickle of relief leaked through the tension riding her body, but she didn’t let herself breathe easy quite yet. “But?”

  “But only if you marry a man I approve of within the next year.”

  Oh. My. God.

  Blood pumped through her so hard, the pounding sounded in her head. Fury and despair warred inside her, and Rusty had no effing clue which to respond to first. Her father resented her, something she had known since she was old enough to understand why he treated her so coldly, when he addressed her at all. That had only gotten worse after Reed died. But she’d never imagined he’d do something like this.

  By some miracle—and years of experience dealing with her father—she held onto the words she wanted to scream at him. “And if I don’t?” she asked quietly.

  “I’ve determined an appropriate man to inherit in your place. Someone who knows the business.”

  I know the business.

  She wanted to screech. She wanted to cry. Or hit him. Or stomp away. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of any of that. Tantrums held no sway with him, and she’d outgrown them a long time ago.

  “I see,” she said instead, projecting a deadly calm she was far from feeling. “I assume you’ve already selected a list of appropriate candidates for the role of Mr. Rusty Walker?”

  His smile spelled out exactly how much he had her over a barrel. “If you need some suggestions, I have one or two, but, no. You can pick. I just get final approval.”

  “Uh-huh. Are any of the hands on the suggestion list?” If Dave was one of the ones listed, she might lose her breakfast right here in the parking lot.

  That wiped the smile from his face. “No. And if I find out you’ve been sneaking around with one of them—”

  Her snort cut him off. “Yeah, right. Like I’d ever be interested in one of your lackeys.”

  Then a terrible, awful idea occurred to her. “Is Williams Hill on your short list?”

  Please say no, please say no.

  But he didn’t. Her father shrugged.

  Well, shit.

  “Was that the deal you were discussing?” She hated that she had to ask, was compelled to ask.

  “No.”

  She believed him. One thing her dad was, was honest. Rusty took a deep breath which she released as a long, audible sigh. “Well, then I guess the ranch will have to go to someone outside of the family.”

  If her heart wasn’t aching in her chest, she would’ve laughed at the frozen expression of shock on her father’s face.

  “Excuse me?” he demanded.

  She mimicked his shrug from a moment ago. “I may have put up with your blatant hatred that you only have a girl to pass your legacy to, and your iron-fisted control over my life up till now, but I draw the line at this. One day, you’ll die, then I’ll be stuck with whoever you approved for the rest of mine.”

  Her father scowled. “That day is coming sooner rather than later, young lady. I need to get my house in order.”

  For the second time in minutes, shock ricocheted through her like a buckshot pinging around. Did he mean what she thought he meant? “What are you saying?”

  His lips flattened. Perhaps he hadn’t meant to tell her that. “I’ve got cancer.”

  Rusty’s chest tightened until she couldn’t breathe. He might be a dictatorial, old-fashioned ass, but he was the only family she had left.

  “How long?” she asked, hardly able to make her lips move to form the question.

  He spit on the ground. “Couple months. Six at most. It’s a brain tumor. Inoperable.”

  Six months. Or less. And she’d be an orphan. My father is dying. Rusty couldn’t wrap her head around this new reality.

  “So you’d better get a move on. Because I want to leave the ranch with family, but only if I know it’ll be run right.”

  “I would run it right,” she said softly.

  “After the babies come, you’ll have other things to focus on.”

  A hysterical laugh tried to bubble out of her. He’d just told her he was dying and he was going to take her home away, because she was going to have babies one day.

  “I can’t, Dad.” She shook her head slowly. “I won’t.”

  Garrett Walker’s mouth hung open. Maybe the only time she’d ever shocked him speechless.

  “I’m sorry you’re dying.” And she was. More than she’d expected to be, maybe. “And I want Rising Star more than I think you ever realized. But…” She gave her head a shake. “Marriage is too big, too serious, and too long-term for me to rush into it. Even for you. Even for the ranch.”

  Her father’s initial frozen response morphed into a glare that should’ve left her quaking in her boots, but Rusty was hard-pressed to feel anything but numb.

  “I e
xpect you to get your ungrateful ass off my property,” he snarled.

  As though that would change her mind. She tipped up her chin. “After the rodeo, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

  “With what vehicle?” By the triumph in the smile he aimed her way, he clearly thought he had her there.

  “I hate to break it to you, Daddy, but everything I own, including my truck and the clothes on my back, I’ve paid for with my money, funds earned under a company I started and own. I haven’t used a cent of your money since I was eighteen years old.”

  She’d even paid for her college degree. Granted, she was still working off those loans.

  He scowled. “That’s not possible. You’ve been accepting an allowance from me for years.”

  “Why bother arguing with you over it? I let it sit in a bank account, but it’s all there. I’ll arrange for the bank to transfer it back to you.”

  The only thing she’d wanted from him was Rising Star Ranch, but that was no longer an option.

  By this point, her father’s face was turning an interesting shade of eggplant purple. If he wasn’t careful, he’d keel over now, before he had a chance to amend the will. Not that she’d wish that on him. The man had six months left to live, and she wished…

  Hell, she didn’t know what she wished. That she could be there to help him through it. That he could pass in peace, knowing she’d continue to grow and prosper the legacy he left behind. But he wasn’t going to let her do either of those things.

  “Where do you think you’ll go?” he asked.

  Her conversation with Holly on the way here suddenly gave her the answer she needed. Fate sure had a sense of humor, not that this situation seemed at all funny.

  “That’s no longer your concern,” she said to her father. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Mischief.”

  Before he could stop her, Rusty walked off.

  She made it only far enough away to be sure her father hadn’t followed, then Rusty stopped, leaning against a trailer, hands on her knees, as reaction finally set in. Her chest constricted, and she tried to suck air into her lungs.

  Oh, my God. Oh, my God. What have I done?

  He was dying and she’d walked away. What kind of daughter did that make her? Years of dealing with his dictatorial ways in pursuit of her dream of running the ranch, and she’d walked away. She should’ve known he’d never just let her have it. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes, but she pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes and refused to let them fall, still painfully aware that she was in a public place.

  “Rusty? You okay?”

  She closed her eyes at the sound of the deep male voice calling her name from close by.

  Will.

  Seriously? Had the entire universe decided to dump on her today? “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

  “You’re sure? Because it looks like you’re about to vomit, or pass out. Maybe both.”

  She managed to force herself upright, sucking a sharp breath in through her nose, forcing it into lungs that still didn’t want to function. “I said I’m fine.”

  She went to walk past him, but he snagged her by the elbow, swinging her around to face him. Even now, resenting him almost as much as her father, his touch still warmed her skin, sending a fizz of awareness through her.

  “Listen,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your dad, but I’m not part of it.”

  The worst possible thing he could’ve said to her. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her. “Whether you like it or not, you’re smack in the middle of it.”

  She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “Have fun dealing with that son of a bitch, because I’m through with trying.”

  This time, Will let her go, though she could feel his gaze burning a hole in her back as she walked away.

  Managing to avoid Will, her father, and the hands, Rusty made her way back to her truck in a roundabout way. She hopped in the cab and pulled out her cell phone, dialing.

  A familiar female voice answered.

  “Holly?”

  “You get to Cheyenne safely?” Holly asked.

  Had she picked up on the tension in Rusty’s voice?

  “Yeah. Um… I think I’m going to take you up on that job offer after all.”

  Chapter Four

  “What do you mean, my hotel reservation got lost?” Will stopped walking in the middle of the concourse, cell phone to his ear, sun beating down on his head, his hat shading his eyes.

  “Watch it, buddy,” someone grumbled as they passed by, so he moved to the side out of the blazing sun.

  The rodeo hadn’t started yet, but the place was full of stock contractors, cowboys, and rodeo staff getting everything set up to kick off with the timed slack events before the shows got rolling.

  Will put a hand to his head. His day had started off crappy—Rusty and Garrett Walker both having a large hand in that—and apparently the pattern was continuing. Seeing as how the person on the other end of the line was his mother, he was doing his best not to flip out. “Can they un-lose it?”

  A deep sigh came down the line. “I’m sorry, honey. They’re booked solid. I’ve checked and every other hotel in town is too. I did manage to find you something…”

  Evaline Hill was not the shy type, prone to hold her tongue, so her hesitation had him a bit worried. “What’s the catch?”

  “Well… I called around and found Jordan and Chris some space. The Brewers are out there in their camper, and have bunk beds they can spare.”

  “And me?”

  “I’ve put you up at a B and B in downtown Cheyenne—the Nagle-Warren Mansion.”

  At least it was a bed and not sleeping in the cab of his truck, which had happened before. “Doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “It a historical Victorian mansion.”

  Ah. In other words, all dainty antiques and he had a tendency to break dainty stuff. Beautiful, but not exactly designed for a tall cowboy who, as his mother put it, tromped around like a bull in a china shop. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Mom.”

  As long as he had a place to stay relatively close to the rodeo, he didn’t care what it was. He wouldn’t be there more than to sleep anyway.

  “Good. How’d your meeting with Mr. Walker go?”

  Will shook his head, trying to come up with a description. After Rusty left, the conversation had been brief and a bit weird—as though Garrett Walker was distracted—and inconclusive.

  “If you’re shaking your head, Will, I can’t see it.”

  “Sorry, Mom. Mr. Walker seemed… receptive. But we didn’t nail anything down like I hoped.”

  “You still think he’d be good to work with?”

  “He’s one of the biggest contractors in the business. So, yeah. I wouldn’t call him an easy man though.” And I can’t get his daughter out of my dang mind.

  “Hmmmm… Well, you always make the right choices. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Will had his own doubts about that, but limited his response to a simple, “Thanks.”

  “Have you talked to Holly yet?”

  “No. Is Mariah’s foal finally on its way?” Slowly, Will meandered toward the parking lot. He needed to check in to his new accommodations.

  “I don’t think so. Give Holly a call when you get a sec. She’s been trying to get a hold of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They chatted a little longer. After getting reports on the ranch and his siblings, he hung up with his mother. By that time, he’d reached his truck. His cell phone GPS got him to the B&B, which was a short drive from the rodeo grounds.

  The mansion stood on a corner, tall and stately with a wide front porch and a turret. Inside was just as his mother had probably imagined—wood floors, fancy wallpaper, chandeliers, furniture that looked like it’d snap under a butterfly’s weight let alone his big frame.

  And Rusty Walker.

  What were the odds? He’d recognize her head of red hair and her slim bo
dy anywhere, not to mention her perfectly rounded behind. To his irritation, his body tightened in a visceral response to her presence. Will clamped down on that hard. She’d already called him an asshole once today. No need for a repeat.

  She stood with her back to him and a suitcase at her side as she talked to the lady checking her in. Will didn’t say anything, simply stepped up in line behind her and dropped his duffel on the floor.

  “I’ll be right with you,” the lady behind the mahogany desk murmured.

  Will tipped his hat, even as he waited for Rusty to turn, but she didn’t.

  “Here’s your key,” the check-in lady said to her. “You are in the Sara & Richard Sullivan room on the third floor.”

  “Thank you.” Rusty gathered her suitcase and turned only to stop dead, eyes going wide.

  She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again.

  “Ms. Walker.” Will nodded.

  She frowned, but the look she sent him wasn’t embarrassed or offended or angry. If he were a betting many, he would’ve said Rusty was confused. Why? The way they’d parted was pretty darn clear to him, and nothing changed when he saw her in the parking lot earlier.

  “Mr. Hill,” she finally said.

  Then she dragged her suitcase behind her as she headed for the stairs. Will watched her go, still trying to figure out what that look had been about.

  “May I help you?” the lady behind the desk asked.

  Five minutes later, for the second time that day, Will couldn’t believe his luck. Fate seemed determined to throw him in Rusty Walker’s path. Or vice versa. He looked at the key in his hand. The key for the only other room on the third floor. With Rusty.

  Really?

  Still, they might not cross paths. This was a long rodeo, and they might not be scheduled the same nights.

  Once up in his room, Will stood, hands on his hips, staring at his accommodations and shook his head. The room was beautiful. In fact, every woman he knew would probably gush over it, but he only hoped he didn’t break anything.

  He carefully flopped on the bed, then pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed. “Hey, Holly. Mom said you were trying to get a hold of me?”