Captive of the Cattle Baron (Selkirk Family Ranch Book 1)

by Irene Vartanoff

  After a minute, he said, “I saw her once more. She was so thin she was skeletal. She claimed her big break was right around the corner. I could tell she was using big time. I tried to stage an intervention, but she told me she’d married the creepy boyfriend. She showed me a cheap ring. Said I had no right to tell her how to live. I had to walk away.”

  He was silent so long she prompted him. “Then?”

  “She died within a year. Burned herself out with the drugs.” He rubbed his face, as if trying to wipe the memory from his mind.

  “Tragic,” she said.

  Baron looked at her, his eyes burning. “When I met you, you reminded me of her. That same combination of vulnerability and dignity.”

  “You couldn’t save her, and I don’t need saving,” she said, in a quiet voice. Baron was clearly in the past.

  “I thought I was over my failure. Those feelings rose up and bit me when I saw you,” he said.

  “Because my situation looked similar.”

  “My frustrations about her transferred to you. Maybe other frustrations, too.”

  Feeling her way, she said, “Yesterday, our conversation seemed to take a turn for the worse when I said I have to get back to Jackson Hole for an appointment. What do I have to do to convince you that I am not your old girlfriend?”

  “Stay here.”

  “I can’t. I have a commitment.”

  “Is it personal?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, as if he was trying to peer into her soul.

  “You could say so. I won’t talk about it.”

  “I’ll get you to talk eventually.”

  She eyed him. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “It’s a promise.” He leaned over, cupping her chin with his hand. “I always keep my promises.”

  Her breath caught. Something warm and knowing in his eyes reached out to her. She began to relax and soften inside. Her lips parted. He lowered his head and kissed her.

  It was a tender kiss, full of promise. His lips caressed hers, and she responded, enjoying the soft feel of flesh on flesh. When she felt the questing tip of his tongue, she surrendered completely. When he finally withdrew, she sighed.

  His hand smoothed her cheek. He kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around him.

  A few minutes later, they came up for air.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  He smiled and turned the key in the ignition. “Time for breakfast.”

  She sat in a daze during the short ride back. Where were they headed? She’d give him points for playing fair today. He didn’t press his advantage by trying to interrogate her after softening her up with his kisses. What came next?

  Stubborn man. Eventually, she would tell him everything, but not when he still refused to help her get back to Jackson Hole.

  As he pulled up in front of the ranch house, she asked “May I train Whitey?”

  “Are you really a horse trainer?” He looked unconvinced.

  “Certified.”

  He still appeared doubtful.

  “Whatever I do someone else can build on,” she said. “I don’t train horses to be one-person animals.”

  “Tess and Paula will arrive in a few hours.”

  She shrugged. Their imminent arrival didn’t mean much to her, though it appeared to weigh heavily on Baron. “In a couple of hours I can help Whitey get substantially more calmed down, which will be good for him and for whoever deals with him in the future.”

  “All right. Don’t overtire yourself.”

  She resisted rolling her eyes, although his concern for her health touched her. He dropped her off at the house and continued on over the rise to where the ranch hands lived.

  ***

  She rushed through breakfast and then quickly changed into her jeans and boots. This was turning into a great day. She headed outside to spend the morning with Whitey. The sky was blue, the temperature had risen to a comfortable level, and she would be with a horse. Life was good.

  A few minutes later she found a training stick in the tack room—whose wall phone had mysteriously vanished. That man. He never gave up. He wanted her to stay here. If he wasn’t so darned bossy, she’d like to stay. His insistence brought out her own determination to go.

  Miss Betty called Baron “boss,” but Addie did not intend to be bossed around. Some women might feel secure with a man who wanted to rule their every hour. Not her. She wanted to make her own choices.

  If she ever was in a serious permanent relationship, then she’d have to compromise some. That’s what all the old married couples claimed made marriage work, compromise. Maybe it was true, but she’d never had an opportunity to test the need for compromise in a healthy relationship. She’d never had a serious relationship that was healthy. How twisted was it that she even considered what was between her and Baron a relationship? He’d abducted her. He was keeping her a prisoner on his ranch. It was a fancy ranch and a mostly pleasant form of imprisonment, but she was not free.

  She’d never been so strung out by desire before. Every time he touched her, she wanted to rip her clothes off and offer herself to him. She wanted to yield. She must keep fighting. She couldn’t allow him to run her life or trap her into going against her principles because of a sex thing. How could she live with herself if she let Caz down?

  She should stop thinking about Baron. It only made her hotter for him.

  Once she saw Whitey, all other thoughts fled. She concentrated solely on the stallion. She started again by standing outside the corral, cooing in low tones, encouraging the stallion to come to her side. She didn’t touch him until she was in the corral and had more space to move herself and move him.

  Once inside, she clucked and made gestures with the training stick, urging Whitey to move back to give her room. When Whitey moved as she urged him to move, she praised him.

  “There’s a good boy. There’s a wonderful stallion.”

  Whitey sidled up to her and she stroked his neck just under his mane, praising him all the while. Her training had taught her that happy enzymes were created by this stroking that imitated what a horse’s mother would do.

  Every correct action Whitey took was rewarded with soft, encouraging words, and strokes on his neck. She never touched him with the training stick. She used it as a pointer, an extension of her arm.

  She did push him around. She made him understand that she was the leader, and if she wanted to be in a spot, he must yield and retreat. She spoke her commands in a calm voice, a firm but friendly voice, and always in a low tone. When he did as directed, she softened her voice and cooed.

  After an hour or two, maybe more, Hoot’s raspy tones came from outside the corral.

  “Miss Addie, they want you up at the house.”

  She gave Whitey more strokes as she moved toward the gate.

  “Okay, time for me to go now,” she cooed. “Now, back up,” she commanded, indicating with her stick that the stallion should give her room. He obeyed.

  Hoot opened the gate and she slipped out. She turned around immediately and praised Whitey.

  “What a good horse you are. Yes, you’re a very good horse.” Whitey moved to get his head over the rail. She stroked him some more.

  “All right. Yes, you are a very good horse. Goodbye for now.”

  “I’ll be. Never seen anythin’ like it.” Hoot escorted her through the stable.

  “Why did you all think Whitey was a rank one? He behaved himself with me.”

  “He arrived kickin’ and screamin’, that’s why. Rolling his eyes and carryin’ on somethin’ fierce.”

  She’d arrived at the ranch in much the same condition as Whitey. “He probably got transported insensitively, and panicked on being dumped into a new situation.”

  “Could be. You’re a miracle worker to calm him down so quick.”

  Hoot said goodbye and she walked the final steps to the ranch house. She’d calmed down on the ranch much quicker than Whitey had, and with less effort by anyone. Baron w
asn’t a woman whisperer, but his innate good manners and his clear sense of honor made her trust him and relax. Still, like Whitey, she remained cautious. Although Baron had not mistreated her so far, he had come close. He’d manhandled her. And he had yet to help her return to Jackson Hole.

  Caz felt he would pay serious consequences if she didn’t testify. She would lose his friendship and be vilified in the tabloid press, too. She didn’t care about the tabloids, but hurting Caz was something she didn’t want to do.

  She walked into the ranch kitchen and found Miss Betty putting food on the table.

  “Do I have time to clean up?”

  “Be quick about it. Biscuits comin’ out in a minute.”

  “Biscuits. Yum. Be right back.” She flew upstairs and took a fast shower. Then she donned more of the casual clothes from the bureau in her room.

  ***

  Baron was in his office, looking at geology jobs online, when he heard Miss Betty’s first call that lunch was on the table. He rubbed his face. His morning had started off great, kissing Addie. The rest of today, not so much.

  Arguing with the ranch hands over details of the roundup wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life. The conference in Jackson Hole had given him leads for new geology projects with interesting employers, but he couldn’t take any of them, dammit. He had to stay here and run the ranch.

  Run the ranch. Not him. The ranch hands ran the oiled machine his father had created. Dad had a genius for organization and leadership. He’d laid out every aspect of the ranch work in a clear system. Many of the men had been here since Baron was a boy, and they were loyal to his dad’s system. Now that much of the work utilized four-wheelers and computer chips, ranch hands didn’t wear out physically, so guys didn’t give up early. Even Hoot, who’d taken some bad falls off horses in his rodeo days, was fully able to do his job by riding around in the Jeep or one of the four-wheelers. Baron had tried to get the old man to retire, but settled for letting him run the stables and act as his sub-manager. Not that there was much to do in the stables with Addie training that stallion. Or anywhere else on the ranch, with the hands following his father’s systems and not listening to his ideas.

  The ranch didn’t need Baron, but he was stuck here anyway, until J.D. got better, or until their parents decided to move back or sell up. Whenever that happened. J.D. had returned from the war a year ago. The outlook for his recovery and return to civilian life still wasn’t good.

  Meanwhile, the days of Baron’s own life went by, and at age twenty-nine, the work he’d spent years training to do, geology, not ranching, was forbidden to him. Family duty was nothing but frustration.

  “Boy, you eatin’ lunch, or what?” Miss Betty called again.

  “Coming.”

  ***

  Addie sat down at the table, and a few seconds later Baron arrived, his mind clearly somewhere not pleasant. After a casual glance at Addie, his gaze sharpened. His eyes examined her clothes. He frowned.

  Suddenly conscious of how much skin the cami and shorts revealed, she asked, “Is there something wrong with my clothes? You’re giving me the stink eye.”

  “Not much clothing in evidence,” he said, scowling.

  “Last night I got the distinct impression you liked that,” she replied.

  “What?” Miss Betty shrieked.

  “All I did was kiss her,” Baron told his housekeeper.

  “Excuse me, but there was a lot of touching going on, too, Mister-Holier-Than-Thou. There’d have been more if I hadn’t escaped.”

  Baron’s face flushed red. “You responded. Don’t deny it. I could have had you if I’d pressed.”

  “How dare you?” Addie cringed mentally at the show they were putting on in front of Miss Betty, but couldn’t stop. “This isn’t about my clothes. It’s about you being frustrated because I keep saying no.”

  “Set yourself down and concentrate on lunch,” Miss Betty advised.

  Addie took an angry turn around the room. “I’ve lost my appetite,” she replied. “Excuse me.”

  She left the kitchen.

  Back in her room, her stomach growled. Breakfast was a long time ago. She stared at her body in the mirror on the bathroom door. There was nothing provocative about her shorts and cami. Why was a frown from Baron Selkirk enough to set her off? She’d jumped down his throat. Was it because they’d come so close to making love last night, but been frustrated? Yet they’d been okay this morning. This morning had been sweet. Why had she blown up at him?

  She talked to her reflection. “You will return to the kitchen and eat lunch like a civilized person. You’ll stop baiting Baron and you’ll ignore him if he happens to frown instead of smile at you.”

  She sank down on the closed toilet seat. Miss Betty had worked hard to provide hot food. It wasn’t her fault that Baron and Addie had a volatile relationship. She shouldn’t have embarrassed Baron in front of the housekeeper. She’d overreacted. Maybe they both were on edge because they’d come close, so close last night.

  She slipped into the kitchen a few minutes later. The television was on, and Miss Betty was alone at the table, eating.

  “I apologize for causing a scene,” Addie said. “May I still have lunch?”

  “Sit down, girl. ’Twas the boss that started the trouble.”

  Addie helped herself to biscuits that were still a little warm. “All he did was frown at me. I took offense awfully quickly.”

  “That you did.” Miss Betty took a bite of her biscuit.

  “I don’t understand why he thought I wasn’t properly clothed.”

  Miss Betty didn’t roll her eyes, but she looked as if she might. “’Tain’t the clothes, it’s the girl inside. When Paula wore that outfit, the boss ignored her completely.”

  “I was trying to spare you the smell of horses.”

  The older woman made a gesture with one hand, pushing aside the topic of the quarrel. “When he brought you here, I told the boy not to take liberties, but from what you said, he has.”

  Now it was Addie’s turn to feel her face redden. “I’m afraid Baron told the truth about last night. I kissed him back.”

  “Do tell,” Miss Betty said. “Well, you sure put a bee in his bonnet just now. He took off for parts unknown after you stalked out.”

  “Did I truly stalk out?” Addie asked, bemused by the image.

  “Yes, you did. It was like a movie,” Miss Betty said. She continued with a gleam in her eye, “Or an episode of a sitcom.”

  Addie went still. “Television is very fake.”

  “You two sure have been actin’ like you was in a TV show. I watch a lot of ’em while I cook. I’m an expert.” Miss Betty smiled.

  “What’s next in the script?” Addie asked, trying to look only a little bit interested.

  “Tess and Paula arrive to complicate matters,” said the older woman with satisfaction. “Tonight I’m servin’ dinner in the dining room. Should be quite a scene with Paula hangin’ all over Baron, and him eyein’ you like a prime piece of meat he wants to chew on, and Tess lookin’ daggers at all of you.”

  Chapter 8

  Baron took the big SUV over to the air strip. Tess and Paula should be arriving in a few minutes. Anyway, he needed to cool off after almost letting his personal frustrations make a hash of things with Addie.

  She didn’t have to blow up at him like that. She was driving him crazy. She had a body that just wouldn’t quit, and she ignored it completely, and ignored him, too. Except when she didn’t, like last night. Last night, she’d been eager. She’d wanted him, but she held him off because of the abduction thing. He should apologize to her and take her home. Then they could start over. No, she’d never give him the time of day again and, anyway, he supposedly was needed here. Addie wasn’t the only prisoner on this ranch, not by a long shot.

  He got out of the SUV and stared at the sky to the east, where the plane would appear. When he was a kid, he’d liked living here in the middle of nowhere. Now, thinking of al
l the things he was missing, he wanted to hop in his own plane and take off, never to return. If he at least knew when his tour of ranch duty would end, he could make plans for his future.

  Tess would probably arrive drunk as usual. He’d tried to get her to stop drinking, but she insisted it was the only way she could cope. She never tried to talk about her misery to their parents. She was thoroughly cowed by them. As for himself, he should call or visit and have it out, but then his mother would cry, and Dad would get that look. Better to keep doing his duty, and say nothing.

  ***

  Addie would enjoy returning to the corral to work some more with Whitey, but it would be too much for the horse too soon. She never pushed horses. She gave them time to adjust.

  She’d taken her run this morning and that was enough serious exercise. Maybe she’d go for a swim. There was that pool in the back yard. She could imagine Baron’s expression if she swam wearing one of the tiny bikinis from the guest room bureau. Her own fury if he made more comments about her borrowed clothing. They were at each other’s throats because of their sexual frustration. How had they managed a sweet kiss in his Jeep this morning? Every other scene ended in hot feelings, whether desire or anger. Usually both.

  She wandered the main living room of the house, picking up framed photos of Baron, Tess, and J.D. together. They were a handsome group. J.D. had sandy hair and a cocky grin, and stood a bit shorter than Baron. The three smiled broadly through a series of informal snaps and school portraits as little kids, then teenagers, and finally college age. Growing up here must have been fun.

  Baron didn’t smile much now. Was it because he resented having to take up the burden of family duty and move back to the ranch, or was it the reason for the move? J.D.’s injuries sounded pretty bad.

  If Baron was touchy, maybe she shouldn’t take it so personally. Although she’d felt very personally frustrated last night when their desire had nearly overcome them.

  If she lived on a big ranch like this, she’d be busy all day training one horse after another. She’d never get bored.

  A swim might work off some of her restless energy, the restlessness that came from being cut off from her normal volume of work as well as her usual channels of communication and entertainment. No cell phone. No tablet or laptop.