Resisting the Rancher
Page 10
With that, he turned on his bootheel and walked over to where Rusty already waited at their table. She watched him approach, her expression giving nothing away, but as soon as he was close, she stepped into him, taking his face between her hands, and laid a sweet, soft kiss against his lips. Paused, and kissed him again.
Then drew back and smiled at what he was sure was an idiotically dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “You’re a good man, Williams Hill.”
He grinned. “I agree. But what made you decide I deserved a kiss for it?”
She shrugged. “I heard.”
Damn. He thought he’d kept that encounter quiet, not wanting to embarrass her. “Sorry.”
She shook her head as he held out her chair for her. “Don’t be. I’ve been dealing with that ass for years. Nice to finally have some backup.”
Rusty did not lower her voice, and Will grinned as a twitter buzzed through the room. Yup. Amazing.
They managed to make it through the meal in relative peace, only being called upon to kiss a few times. Thankfully, Rusty had talked her dad out of most of the traditions, so there was no dancing, no cake cutting, and no official speeches.
That was, until Mrs. Stephens heard about it. “No dancing?!” she exclaimed loud enough for everyone to stop eating. “But they have to share a dance at least.”
“Oh, Lord,” Rusty whispered. “She won’t quit until we do.”
“Guess, we’d better then,” Will whispered back.
Rusty’s eyes widened as he stood up from the table and crossed to the DJ to make a request, then approached where she still sat, watching him.
Will held out a hand. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Hill?”
Something vulnerable flashed in her eyes as the soft strains of “Feels Like Home,” the Linda Ronstadt version, came over the speakers. But she put her hand in his, and stood as he wrapped his other hand around her waist. Then he moved them into a slow two-step, their bodies moving in time to the music as if they’d been dancing together like this for years. Not a single trip or damaged toe.
A miracle as far as he was concerned. Women among his family and friends avoided dancing with him for a reason. But Rusty moved with him, and Will forgot to be worried about it, focusing instead on her upturned face.
Rusty stared up at him, her expression unreadable, as they danced, and Will didn’t look away. He didn’t want to break the moment, the… something… between them that was real. Could she feel it too?
Finally, the song ended, and he leaned down, kissing her lush lips that pulled him like gravity until he crashed into her.
They broke apart to the sound of clapping. “See.” Mrs. Stephen’s could be loudly heard declaring. “Every bride and groom need a dance. Makes it official.”
Rusty grinned up at him—the first real smile she’d shown since the moment they’d announced to her father that they were engaged. “I guess we’re official.”
Chapter Eight
Dust kicked up behind Will’s truck as Rusty followed him down the long gravel drive, obscuring her view of the buildings ahead. Two days of driving, two days by herself in the truck with her thoughts.
She had married Williams Hill.
Reality still hadn’t sunk in.
They’d stayed the night in the honeymoon suite at the hotel where the reception had been held, again, her father’s “treat.”
As they’d thanked everyone for coming, Doris had yanked Rusty up against her generous bosom. “No thanks necessary, darlin’. Your father thought you’d like me to be here.”
Even now, Rusty was stunned by that one act that seemed almost human. Damn her father and his stubborn pride, bullying her into doing exactly as he wanted. Only, thanks to the man in the truck in front of her, she’d beat her father at his own game.
At least they were finally here. High Hill Ranch.
Rusty hadn’t spent much time in Texas. In fact, she’d met Holly in Colorado to pick up Mischief. While she and Will drove south, she’d found the change in topography fascinating. The high plains of the panhandle had morphed into cotton crops followed by acres of short cedar trees and massive windmill farms, and finally the rolling hills covered with green-leafed live oaks among cedars and cactus.
Every so often they passed through small towns, some in better shape than others, but seeing them had made Rusty relax a tad. This wasn’t so different from her home in Wyoming. Good, down-to-earth people lived here, and she’d be one of them.
As Will’s wife.
Oh, God, what have I done?
For the thousandth time since she’d said “yes,” Rusty gave herself a mental shake. She could do this. She could upheave her life and change everything about the course of her future in a fake marriage to a man who wanted to be business partners. All for the best in the end, she hoped.
Finally, she got a look at the main house. Like many homes in Texas she’d passed on the drive, the house was single story—ranch style, spreading out on each side from the double doors in the center. Built of white limestone that showed its age by some spots that had turned black, it had been well cared for over the years.
The house was surrounded by a well-tended lawn and she’d bet money a large garden lurked somewhere near, probably around back. She especially loved the tin roof and wrap-around covered porch with randomly grouped rocking chairs. She could imagine watching a thunderstorm gather from those chairs, iced tea on the table beside her.
Maybe even sweet iced tea. She’d never tried it, but, given her serious sweet tooth, would bet she’d like it.
Forget iced tea. She would be living in the main house. With her husband.
When she should be sharing the bunkhouse with the other hands. If she let herself think about it too much, she would run away right now and ask for an annulment. Especially knowing she was about to meet her in-laws.
Temporary though they might be.
Will bypassed the house and drove to the barn, and Rusty followed. Chris and Jordan, Will’s rodeo hands were two days behind them as they had another rodeo to hit in New Mexico on the way home, but Will had wanted to return immediately and share their “good news” with his family before rumors reached them.
Rusty was inside the trailer, carefully backing out Mischief, who was a lamb when it came to travel, when she heard a female voice calling Will’s name.
“Hi, Mom,” he called back.
Oh, Lord.
Rusty scrunched up her face as she peeked around Mischief’s bulk to Will’s dark head outside. His face was turned away, as he looked at his mother in the distance. She was going to meet his mother now? She wouldn’t have minded a shower and a chance to freshen up first. Rodeo had always meant a lot of travel, and usually the last thing she wanted at the end of a two-day drive was having to put on her social face and be nice to total strangers. But this was so much more, so much worse.
In-laws, not strangers.
People she’d be living and working with day in and day out for a while. Except when they went to Rising Star. While her father’s manipulations meant she couldn’t live with him all the time these last months, he was still her father and he was dying. Will had agreed they’d split their time between the two ranches as much as possible.
Her new husband turned back to face her and caught her gaze. He waved her to continue. With pressure on the lead, Rusty backed the horse out, the clomp of hooves against the trailer floor echoing around her.
Outside, she blinked in the bright sunlight for a second, and appreciated the breeze. July in Texas was miserably hot, at least today it was, but even worse in that trailer, despite how it was vented for air, which helped when on the road, but not as much when stopped.
“Take Mischief inside and get him settled,” Will said. “His stall is third on the right. You can meet the family when you’re done. Just come on up to the house.”
Her expression must’ve said how much she relished that idea. He was going to abandon her to walk in there alone?
Still shaken from the brief kiss and the confidence in his gaze, Rusty didn’t argue, turning immediately for the shade of the barn. And, yes, she might’ve spent more time caring for the horse than was strictly necessary.
She even made a quick call. Except a gruff male voice answered the phone. “Dad?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
No way was her father home in the middle of the afternoon without good reason. “You feeling okay?”
“No. I’m not okay. I’m dying. But not today, so don’t worry about it.”
In other words, don’t show any concern at risk of irritating the tar out of him. But if anything was proof that her father truly was sick, his being at home at this time, after two days “off” dealing with her marriage.
“I just called to let Doris know we made it back to the ranch okay.” Because her father sure as hell never asked.
“I’ll tell her you called.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll—”
The click on the other end told her he’d hung up. He never had been one for wasting time with pleasantries like hellos or goodbyes.
Rusty gazed toward the house where her new in-laws awaited. Washing up would’ve been nice. A glance behind her showed a sink, so she used that to rinse off her hands and face, wiping the sweat from the back of her neck.
Wyoming had its own form of intense summer heat, but nothing like this oppressiveness. The air was stifling, weighing down on her like a physical presence. A shower was going to feel like heaven. But first, time to meet the family.
The closest door to the barn she could see was the front door. She hesitated. Did she ring the doorbell? Or did she go around back and let herself in? The hands on her ranch used the back door, but she wasn’t a hand. She also hadn’t been introduced yet.
With a sigh, she turned her boots for the front door. Before she rang the doorbell, she took off her boots and deposited them by the front door.
She was about to ring a second time, worried no one had heard her, when the red door was swung open by Will.
He didn’t look upset. In fact, when he saw her face, he chuckled. “Don’t look so worried. They’re all excited to meet you.”
“I’ll bet,” she muttered.
“Come on. Pretend you’re ripping off a bandage.”
He took her by the hand, his touch only marginally helping the nerves growing tentacles inside her stomach. Rusty made a noncommittal sound as she allowed him to lead her through a living room and down a long hallway, the vague sounds of voices floating back to them.
Rusty stopped at the door, and tried not to visibly swallow as she took in the scene. Oh, God. The entire Hill tribe has been gathered.
Could’ve used a warning about that. Did they always greet each other like this when they’d been out of town? Will’d only been gone a few weeks. Her father had never bothered to meet her at the door when she arrived after a trip. Hell, often he wasn’t even at home, usually out doing his chores or dealing with business, often at other rodeos.
Will put his hand at the small of her back to usher her in. Or push her in. Not much difference at this point.
The first person she came to as they walked farther into the kitchen was a petite woman with dark hair cut in a short bob that curled just under her ears. Only the lines fanning out from the corners of her eyes gave any indication of her age.
“You must be, Rusty,” the other woman said in a thick Texas drawl. “Will told us the news.”
This had to be his mother. Was she happy? She didn’t look like she’d been crying or anything.
“Come on in, darlin’.” She was beckoned to come closer. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here and you’re family now.”
As soon as Rusty stepped closer, she was pulled into a big hug from a very tiny woman. “We couldn’t be happier that Will finally found someone.”
Finally?
The room erupted in talk and congrats. Rusty had no idea what she’d been expecting—everything from tears and recriminations to disappointment—but not this.
“You are so beautiful. I can see why he fell for you so quickly,” his mother said. “And you love horses as much as he does. Perfect.”
Will had certainly said a lot in the time she’d been handling Mischief. Too much, maybe. He’d laid it on too thick. They would either not believe their instalove story, or they’d be so disappointed when they split it would be awful.
“We can’t wait to watch the video,” Will’s mom continued.
Video? Uh-oh.
“We can watch it after dinner, Mom,” Will said.
Wait. What? She swung her gaze to his, trying not to let the others see her panic.
He caught her confused expression. “I had one of the hands use my phone to record the ceremony and part of the reception.”
He did?
Suddenly the enormity of what she and Will were doing—lying to his family and her father so she could keep her ranch—struck with all the weight of a sledgehammer. Her father was one thing; he’d forced her hand. But Will’s family… She could already tell these were lovely people.
Will’s mom backed up, tears in her eyes, and smiled. “I’m forgetting my manners. We haven’t even been introduced. I’m Will’s mom, Evaline Hill.”
Rusty chuckled and smiled back. Hard not to when such open kindness was directed her way. “I figured. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hill.”
“Evaline, please.”
Will stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Rusty sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear. Louder he said, “Let me introduce you to everyone else.”
He turned her to face the others. “You know Holly, who I will forever be grateful to for finding you.”
She pinched his arm, and he jerked slightly under her fingers. But hopefully he got the message. Too much, Will.
A familiar woman with dark wavy hair almost to her waist and wearing a gypsy-ish skirt in greens and purples moved forward. Like Evaline just had, Holly Hill pulled Rusty into a hug. At least Will had to let go of her. “Nice to see you again. And with such happy news! When I suggested you hire on here, I sort of hoped Will might make a move.”
Rusty choked on that one, and tried to hide her snort with a chuckle. “I’m sure you’re all shocked. It happened… sort of fast.”
Before Holly pulled away, she whispered in Rusty’s ear, “Don’t let the large family thing intimidate you. They’re harmless and thrilled.”
Dang. Had her nerves been that obvious?
Will twined his fingers through hers and tugged her to the next person, a man who the Hill kids had obviously taken after. “This is my father.”
“You can call me John.” The older version of Will also gathered her in for a quick hug, before releasing her back into Will’s care.
Same dark hair, though graying at the temples, and same startling blue eyes, not remotely dimmed by time, which gazed back at her now. She got a good idea of what Will would look like in his fifties—attractive, that was for dang sure. She flicked a glance up at him, mentally picturing it. Of all the Hills, each of whom was tall except Evaline, Will was the tallest.
“I knew when Will finally found the right woman for him, he wouldn’t wait around,” John said. “He always was one to go after what he wanted.”
Except Will didn’t want her—not as a wife. He wanted a business partner. A horrible feeling settled in the center of her chest—rocks piled on rocks piled on nausea. What had she done to him?
“Holly is married to my brother Cash,” Will continued the introductions.
An only slightly shorter, less lanky version of Will, dressed in the browns and tans of a Texas sheriff, also gave
her a hug. “Welcome to the family.”
“Me next!” A tiny blonde peanut of a girl jumped up and down next to Cash, hardly able to contain her excitement.
Rusty dropped to her level with a smile. “And you are?”
The girl, who had to be around six, drew herself up tall. “I am Sophia Ivy Hill. This is my daddy, and Holly is my new mama.”
“That must make you pretty special.”
“Where are your mom and dad?”
Rusty flicked a glance at Will, but his expression gave nothing away. “My dad lives in Wyoming where I grew up. My mom passed away a long time ago.”
Solemn Hill-blue eyes regarded her for a long moment, then Sophia threw her arms around Rusty’s neck. “My mama died too, and so did Holly’s. But it’s okay, because they watch over us from heaven.”
Rusty had to fight hard to keep her stinging eyes from spilling over the sweet child’s sincere need to make her feel better. “Yes, they are.”
Sophia drew back to study Rusty’s face. “You have sad eyes.” Rusty froze. How did one handle a comment like that in front of her pseudo-family?
Before she could say anything, Sophia looked over her shoulder. “You should fix that Uncle Will.”
Holy smokes. Awkward did not begin to cover this moment.
“Okay, munchkin,” Cash said. “Rusty still needs to meet the rest of the family.”
Sophia’s arms tightened around her for a second before she released Rusty who ruffled Sophia’s hair before she got to her feet. She looked at the only person she could without it being really weird. Will.
He took her hand again, turning her to two other men. “These runts are Jennings and Autry.” Two younger versions of the older brothers, in their early to mid-twenties, nodded and grinned.
Rusty took a deep breath, thankful everyone had let that moment pass.
“I wouldn’t exactly call them runts,” she murmured. They were well over six feet. The younger brothers both winked at her in unison and she chuckled. Did they do that all the time?
“Carter is away at school right now,” Will said. “But you’ll meet her as soon as her summer session is over, sometime in August before fall semester starts up.”