The Rancher and the Runaway Bride

by Susan Mallery

  The vulnerability in her eyes called to him. Before he could stop himself, he half rose out of his chair. Don’t even think about it, he warned himself as he slowly resumed his seat.

  “I’m not going to fire you,” he said. “We agreed to a one-week trial, Rita. The week is up. I want to talk to you about your job. You do great work and I’d like you to stay on. I asked you here so we could talk about that. Nothing more.”

  Her mouth opened. Color flooded her face, then faded. “Really?” Her voice squeaked. “I thought—” She shook her head. “I guess I overreacted, huh?”

  “Just a little. But under the circumstances, it’s understandable. Now I know why you turned down dessert. When we’re done here, why don’t you go explain it to Tex. I’m sure he’s got some peach cobbler left over. He’ll be wondering why you didn’t have your normal two or three servings. We can’t afford to have our cook sulking, now, can we?”

  She laughed. “I promise I’ll go speak to him.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on his desk. “I like my job, Brady. I’m enjoying the ranch. If you want to keep me around, I’d like to stay.”

  Pleasure heated his belly. He ignored the sensation, just as he ignored the impulse to lean forward as well and capture her hands in his. “Great. I’m going to raise your salary thirty dollars a week. Can you give me any kind of time commitment as to how long you’ll be staying?”

  He always asked that question of new employees, but this time his interest in her reply was personal. Shadows moved across her face. She withdrew her hands to her lap and shook her head.

  “Not really. A couple of months. Maybe.”

  “I see. Well, we’re happy to have you here as long as you want to stay.”

  The disappointment was sharper than the pleasure had been. He’d wanted more. Trust, maybe? It was too soon to expect that. She might never trust him. Could be life had taught her it was too dangerous. After all, he’d had his own lessons. He’d learned it was safer not to give away his heart.

  “If anything changes and I find I can stay, I’ll let you know,” she said. “But I can’t promise more. Not without knowing if I can keep my word. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “I understand.”

  There was an awkward pause as the room filled with unasked questions. Questions about her past and his, about a future that was never going to be.

  “That’s all I had to say,” he said, dismissing her. “Your raise will be in your next paycheck.”

  “Thanks.” She rose to her feet and gave him a quick smile, then moved to the door.

  He watched her go, telling himself the emptiness inside had nothing to do with her, or with feeling lonely. He wished it could have been different. He wished he could have fallen in love with someone who wanted what he wanted. But he hadn’t. Instead he’d learned a hard lesson.

  Love was a rare and elusive gift. Once given, there was no guarantee it was going to be enough to make the relationship work. He had the scarred heart to prove it.

  Chapter Five

  Randi leaned against the window frame and inhaled the soft smells of the night. It was getting late, and she should think about going to bed. After all, 4:00 a.m. came pretty early. But she couldn’t seem to settle down. Her body was pleasantly exhausted from a hard day’s work, but her mind was restless.

  Thoughts flitted around like butterflies in a meadow. She was pleased that Brady wanted her to stay, proud that he thought she was doing a good job. She wondered about Grand Springs, then questioned what it meant that she no longer thought of that place as home. She missed Noah, if not her mother. She tried to imagine her future and couldn’t picture herself in any one place. Or with any one man.

  She stared through the trees. Brady had wanted to talk about her past. She’d read it in his eyes. He had questions and she couldn’t blame him. What must it be like to hire someone with no references, no experience? Why had he given her a chance?

  It would be so easy to confess everything to him, to tell him about the wedding and her near escape, to explain about those two men with guns. She sighed, knowing he would despise her for the former and disbelieve the latter. She couldn’t even make it sound better by saying she ran because of the men with guns. The truth was she’d been on her way out when she’d seen them. As much as she would like it to be otherwise, they had nothing to do with why she’d left Hal at the altar. So she wasn’t going to let on even a single whisper about her past.

  If the last week had taught her only one thing it was that Brady Jones was an honorable man. Her first assessment of him had been right on the mark. If this was a 1950s western, his part would be played by John Wayne. Brady was an all-American hero. She was just a woman who’d run out on her own wedding and didn’t know what to do with her life. She thought he was wonderful; he probably didn’t think about her at all. They had nothing in common.

  He spent his life helping out strays and others in need—she waited to be rescued, first by her father, then by Noah. Sure, this time she’d decided to take care of the problem herself. She might be making progress and growing up, but it wasn’t enough for a man like Brady.

  A cool breeze blew into the bedroom, calling her, tempting her. Finally she gave in. As there was no way she was going to sleep for the next couple of hours, she might as well enjoy the night.

  After slipping off her boots and socks so she could walk quietly and not wake Brady, she tiptoed down the hall and the stairs before crossing the hardwood floor and moving to the front door. She pulled it open slowly, wincing at a faint creak. She stepped onto the porch and pulled it shut behind her.

  “Great night.”

  The unexpected voice made her jump. She peered toward the sound and saw Brady sitting on the front steps.

  “I, ah—” She didn’t know what to say. Obviously she hadn’t been the only one tempted by the night. “Sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.” She turned to go back inside.

  “If you came out to enjoy the night air, there’s plenty for both of us.”

  She glanced at him. He slid over on the step and patted the wood beside him.

  “I don’t bite,” he encouraged.

  She relaxed. “But as a former rodeo cowboy, you can probably hog-tie me in less than four seconds, right?”

  He grinned and raised his hands. “Yup, but I don’t have my trusty rope, so you’re safe.”

  She crossed the porch and sank down on the top step, taking care to sit as far from him as possible. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. Quite the opposite. After comparing the goodness of their respective souls, she was feeling a little lacking and out of her league.

  “You work hard enough to be asleep,” he said. “So it must be a guilty conscience keeping you up.”

  She jumped at his words and stared at him. Dear Lord, how did he know?

  Brady shook his head. “It was a joke, Rita. Relax.”

  “Okay. Sorry. I don’t feel guilty. Just sort of restless. Mentally, not physically,” she added quickly. “I like it here at the ranch and I really appreciate the raise.”

  “I’m glad you’re staying.”

  “Yeah?”

  The porch light allowed her to see his features. His eyes were dark and beckoning. She let her gaze lock with his, feeling drawn toward something she couldn’t quite define. Maybe it was supposed to frighten her, but it didn’t. Quite the opposite—it made her feel safe.

  “My daddy always taught me to pay good help well and they’ll be loyal in return,” he said.

  “Your father sounds a lot like mine.” She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “A good man, right?”

  Brady nodded.

  “Mine was, too. He died when I was pretty young. I miss him. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear he spoiled me. Some days I miss being his little princess.”

  “You still are, in your memories.”

  “I know, but I’d prefer it in real life.” Not that she would want him to rescue her this time, Randi
reminded herself. She was supposed to be getting herself out of this mess alone.

  She shook off her thoughts. “Where are your folks? Somebody said something about them traveling?”

  “They bought an RV and are using it to see the world. Or at least this part of it. They’re strange, but I love them.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded postcard. After smoothing it, he handed it to her.

  She held the picture up to the light. “Rio?” she asked disbelievingly. “Your parents are in South America?”

  “I know it’s crazy, but that’s where they are. They wanted to explore as much of the world as they could, so they drove to the tip of South America and are working their way north. They wanted to hold off on the States and Canada until they were older.”

  “Rio.” The postcard showed a stunning aerial view of the city from the top of Corcovado Mountain. The shadow cast by the famous Christ the Redeemer statue was in the foreground.

  “You can read what they wrote. Like I said, my folks are a little odd, but nice people.”

  She turned over the postcard and held it up to the light.

  We love Rio. Wonderful food, friendly people. Lots of stray cats, which makes us think Princess would enjoy it, too. I wanted to send you a postcard of the topless girls on the beaches, but your father got embarrassed at the gift shop so I couldn’t buy it. We are having a wonderful time, and we miss you and love you very much.

  “They sound terrific,” she said. “Are you disappointed about the postcard?”

  He chuckled. “Knowing Mom, she’ll find a way to buy one without my dad finding out. At least the mail carrier is an old friend and I won’t have to do any explaining.”

  She handed him the postcard and wished her mother had been half as affectionate. While her father had obviously loved and cared for his children, he’d been gone a lot. Her mother had been the one at home, and the one to find fault all the time.

  “I envy you them,” she said lightly, hoping he didn’t hear the loneliness in her voice. It wasn’t that she missed what she had, but instead she felt a sense of loss for the potential of what should have been.

  “Does your family know where you are?” he asked.

  She stared at him.

  Brady shrugged and tucked the postcard into his shirt pocket. “That first night you mentioned a brother, so you must have some family.”

  She thought about changing the subject, then figured she owed Brady better than that. “Noah knows that I’m safe. I called him. But no, he doesn’t have any specific information on my whereabouts. I’m sure he passed the information along to my mother. She’s not someone I’m anxious to have a conversation with right now.” There was an understatement. When Randi thought about the spoiled wedding, the scuttled plans for the reception, the wasted food, she cringed.

  “I’m not ready to be in contact with them,” she continued. “I have a few things to work out.”

  “The ranch is a good place to do that,” he told her. “When I need to think things through, I get on one of the horses and ride. Speaking of which, if you want to explore the ranch, go ahead. I saw you on Casper and you know what you’re doing. Any of the horses that aren’t being worked need the exercise, anyway, so help yourself.”

  “Thanks. I might do that.” She paused, wondering if he was judging her. “It’s not as bad you think,” she added, even as she told herself it was too late, not to mention futile, to try to tip the scales in her favor. “My being on my own. I just—”

  “Rita, you don’t have to explain,” he interrupted gently. “People get into different situations, and sometimes they need to take a break from that. My only assumptions about you are based on the job you’re doing right here, the same as the rest of the guys. Everyone has secrets. As long as yours don’t get in the way of the work getting done, you’re welcome to them.”

  He was right about everyone having secrets. What were his?

  She reminded herself she didn’t have the right to ask. Besides, there was no way his were as bad as hers.

  In the distance night creatures called to one another. “I’ve seen the topographic maps in the barn,” she said. “The ranch goes on for miles. You ever get lost out there?”

  “Not since I was a kid. I used to camp out in the summer. Eventually I would find my way home, or one of the cowboys would come after me. I like it out here.”

  “It’s different from anything I’m used to,” she said. “The landscape’s forbidding.”

  He leaned against the railing and angled toward her. “Barren is the word you’re looking for. West Texas isn’t exactly the breadbasket of the world. It was the last part of the state to be settled. Some people think it’s still being settled.”

  “The wide-open spaces are a little intimidating. I can understand why those early pioneers kept on going.”

  “Me, too. Hot as hell in the summer. Freezing in the winter. We get storms coming in all directions, tornados, remnants of gulf hurricanes.”

  “Sounds like paradise,” she teased.

  “It is to me. I’ve traveled a lot, and this is where I belong. It’s not for everyone, though.”

  She gazed up at the star-filled sky. “Maybe not, but I understand the appeal. There’s no one around telling you what to do. No pressure. I’d forgotten what it was like to do physical work, something with my hands, to have something to show for a day’s work.”

  “I wouldn’t have picked you as an old-fashioned girl.”

  “Me, neither. I’m still figuring things out.” She looked at Brady. Ruggedly handsome, she thought with a sigh. A perfect, romantic cliché. Too bad she wasn’t in the market for a cowboy. He was a hundred percent fantasy material.

  Broad shoulders filled out his shirt, stretching the material just enough to make a woman sit up and take notice. She’d seen him calming his horse. He spoke gently, moving his hands with a sureness that made her wonder what else those hands would do as well. What other tasks did those long, strong fingers move into easily, confidently? Wasn’t there an analogy about women and horses being similar—unpredictable to tame but worth the effort? Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

  “How long have you run the ranch?” she asked.

  “Five years.”

  “I’m surprised. You must have been a baby.”

  He grinned. “Twenty-eight. I’ve aged quickly. Now I’m an old man like Tex.”

  “Thirty-three isn’t old.”

  “It’s nine years older that you, Rita.”

  She stiffened and stared straight ahead. “I’m not a child.”

  “Agreed. You’re more of a youngster.”

  Randi knew he was teasing her, but oddly enough, she found it difficult to smile in return. She didn’t want Brady to think of her as immature—not when she was a grown woman. But defending herself would only prove his claim of her youth. She would have to find another way to point out that he should take her seriously.

  She would also have to keep her past from him. Running out on a wedding was not the act of a mature adult.

  “Being the baby of the family made it hard to grow up,” she admitted. “Things are different now. Time on the road changes a person.”

  “How long have you been on your own?” he asked.

  “Two months. It’s been hard, but in a good way. I’m learning to depend on myself rather than letting other people take care of me. I guess I’m becoming responsible.”

  “That’s a hard lesson to learn.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not for you. I’ll bet you were born responsible.”

  “Are you saying I’m boring?”

  “Not at all.” She glanced at him. “Responsible isn’t boring. The world needs more responsible people in it. Otherwise the rest of us would be in trouble.”

  “You’re doing okay. Taking care of the horses is a challenging job. People think it’s all about mucking out the stalls, but there’s more to it. You have to learn about the animals, understand them, so you c
an see if they’re healthy. You connect with them.”

  His compliment pleased her. “Thanks. I guess you got lucky, huh? I could have been a complete flake.”

  “A flake wouldn’t have worried about getting up on time that first day.”

  “Maybe.” She wrinkled her nose. “You don’t have to answer this, but…why did you hire me?”

  Brady surprised her by turning away. She might be crazy, but she would have sworn the question made him uncomfortable.

  Silence stretched between them. Randi wondered if she’d crossed some invisible line between employer and employee. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s not that,” he told her. “I’m trying to work up an answer that doesn’t sound nuts. The truth?”

  She nodded.

  “I hired you because my gut didn’t tell me not to. I get this feeling about people, and I’ve learned to listen to it. If my gut said you were going to be bad news, I wouldn’t have offered you the job.”

  She had thought his answer would make her feel better, but it didn’t. She felt worse because his gut had been wrong about her. She was bad news.

  “It turned out right in the end,” he said, and leaned forward to capture her left hand. She was too surprised to stop him, and once he’d taken her fingers in his, she didn’t want to.

  He held her gently, almost impersonally. After turning her palm to the light, he ran his thumb across the bumps at the base of her fingers.

  “New blisters,” he said. “Thicker calluses. A few more months of this and your hands are going to look like mine.” He turned his wrist so his palm faced up. With his free hand he pointed at the marks on his skin. Several fingers were scarred; there was a healing cut by his thumb. “See what hard work can do.”

  He was bigger than her, his fingers longer, his palm broader. Maybe his strength should have frightened her, or at least pointed out how vulnerable she was with him. Instead, she found comfort in his physical power, sensing he would use it to protect rather than threaten.