by Firebrand
“Push, Mama,” she coaxed, whispering soft words of encouragement over and over. A human mother couldn’t have wished for better care than the cow was being given by Mrs. Rusty Wilder.
There were tears of joy glistening in Rusty’s eyes when she held up the calf and walked around to the cow’s head. “Here she is, a little girl. She wants her mama.”
The exhausted cow turned immediately and began to lick her calf. Above the cow’s head, Rusty and Cade’s eyes met, and he felt a special warmth, a joining of purpose. They both smiled. In that moment he knew that he’d agree to her proposal. Such a woman was more than the head of Silverwild. She was a woman who had much to give to a child—and a man.
Rusty left the cow and her calf to Doak, washed her hands, paying little attention to her soiled clothing, and slid her arms into the jacket Cade was holding for her. For a moment she leaned against him, and they shared the satisfaction of what they’d accomplished. Then she turned and started back to the house.
“I’ll be leaving tonight, Rusty,” Cade said simply. “Pixie and I will be back in a few days—if you’re still sure about your proposition.”
Rusty stopped and turned around. “Are you certain, Cade?”
“No, I’ve probably never been less certain of a thing in my life. But I’m willing to give it a chance. Six months. Then we’ll see. One thing …”
“What’s that?”
“Pixie and I will stay in one of your tenant houses. I don’t want my daughter to be disappointed if this doesn’t work. If she sees me as another ranch hand, she won’t get her hopes too high.”
“No, Cade. If we’re going to get to know each other, it has to be on more intimate grounds than that. Letty already has the two rooms in the guest wing ready for you. They were originally built for my grandmother. She wanted her quarters to be private. You work for me. More than that your daughter doesn’t need to know.”
“I hope this isn’t a mistake, Rusty.”
Rusty. That was the first time he’d used her name. She felt her heart take a funny little leap. She didn’t know what to say. Finally she added, “You know that Letty has her heart set on looking after Pixie. She can’t wait either.”
“Letty?”
There was a long silence.
“Letty and I,” she corrected, and turned back toward the house. This time her practiced long strides were forgotten as she considered the decision they’d just made. She gave way to a more natural rolling walk, the kind of feminine walk that even tired legs couldn’t disguise.
Cade felt a tightening in his groin. It was good that he was leaving, that Pixie would soon be here. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to maintain a safe distance from Rusty. He wasn’t sure how long he wanted to.
Business, he reminded himself.
A business relationship.
Except—this business was sex.
He was being hired to do a job, a job for which he appeared to be very well qualified, if his present response to Mrs. Wilder was any guarantee.
Four
Pixie’s dark eyes widened as she took in the barren landscape from the backseat of the Jeep where she sat, clutching Eugene’s hand. Eugene hadn’t been part of the deal with Rusty. But Pixie had wanted Eugene, and he’d surprised Cade by insisting on buying his own ticket. Cade only hoped that Rusty would find something on the ranch to keep the crusty old man busy.
Doak, Rusty’s foreman, had been sent to meet their plane and drive them back to the ranch. The drive was long and tiring for a six-year-old making her second move within a year.
“Where’s the snow, Daddy?” Pixie asked.
“In the mountains, Pix. They’ve had a light fall this year.”
“Oh,” Pixie said in a quiet little voice.
“Where’re the trees, Cade?” Eugene asked, disgruntled.
“In the mountains. The Mormons who first came here cleared the land for planting.”
“Oh,” Eugene said.
“All right, you two. This isn’t any easier on me than it is on you. I know that it’s different from Alaska, but we agreed that we’d come to Utah and give it a try.”
“Maybe, but I thought the ‘it’ we were trying out was the widow Wilder, and I don’t see any sign of her,” Eugene grumbled as he tried to fold his long legs into the small space behind the front seat where he’d insisted on loading himself. “Seems to me that she could have found time to meet us personally.”
“Rusty would have come,” Doak insisted, “except she had a meeting of the state water commission, and she won’t be back until tonight. She didn’t know when you were coming.”
“Trouble?” Cade questioned.
“She didn’t say,” Doak answered without elaborating.
By the time they reached the ranch, the temperature was beginning to drop, and the sky was swimming in thick gray clouds.
“Looks like there’s a storm coming up,” Doak observed with a frown. “Hope Rusty gets on in here ’fore it breaks.”
Cade didn’t have to be told how dangerous it would be for Rusty to land in a snowstorm, particularly in the dark. He didn’t comment.
The first big flakes were floating to the ground as the house came into view.
“Daddy, it looks like Zorro’s house in the movies. Are there horses?”
“Yes, honey. It’s built like a Spanish hacienda, and there’re horses and cows and a few chickens,” Cade answered as he began to unload their cases, preoccupied now. Where was Rusty?
“Cade! And this must be Jennifer.” Letty came through the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “You all come in here quick before you freeze. Who’s this?” She turned to Eugene with a critical frown.
“I’m Eugene P. Manderville,” the man in question answered testily, adding, “And I’m part of the family.”
Letty’s only comment was “Humph.”
Manderville? Cade bit back a smile. If he’d ever heard Eugene’s last name, he’d forgotten it long ago.
Pixie was soon settled at the big oak table in the kitchen, Letty pouring hot chocolate and serving a plate of big chewy cookies. Eugene, on the other side of the table, was eyeing Letty with his best “show me” expression. When she offered him a cup, his eyes widened in disbelief.
“Hell’s bells, woman. Is that all you’ve got to offer a man who’s come thousands of miles? I see I’m going to have to introduce you to Tundra Tonic.”
“You haven’t traveled thousands of miles, Eugene, and it’s the middle of the afternoon.” Letty dismissed his complaint and filled his cup with chocolate. “What in heaven’s name is Tundra Tonic?”
“It’s a little something that I bottle myself, good for what ails you.”
“I’ll bet.” Letty rolled her eyes skeptically. “But maybe I do have a little something extra for you.”
“Well, I should hope so.”
Letty beamed at Eugene and plopped a marshmallow into his cup.
Cade shook his head to Letty’s offer of hot chocolate. He couldn’t be still. He walked to the window and peered into the snow, not yet falling heavily but blowing gracefully across the open ground between the house and the barn. “How’s the bull doing?”
“Hard to tell,” Letty answered slowly. “Whoever decided to call him Pretty Boy had a real sense of humor.”
“ ‘Pretty Boy’?” Cade couldn’t hold back a smile. That had been his name for the bull.
“Yep, he ain’t pretty, and he has a strange way of picking his ladies.”
“Oh, you mean he has to advertise too?” Eugene asked dryly.
“I mean no such thing. I mean he prefers the wild ones on the range to the champions that Rusty offers him. Just like a man. Don’t know what’s good for him.”
Pixie finished her cocoa and began to yawn. “Daddy, I feel sleepy.”
“Of course, you are, little one.” Eugene started to rise. “And I think I’ll join you in taking a nap. I’m a little tuckered out myself. Where’s the bunkhouse, woman?”
“Eugene, you aren’t taking that child out of this house. She has her own room, right next to her daddy. Come along, darling, Letty will show you.” She gave Eugene a warning frown and took Pixie’s hand. “You, you can find your own bed. The bunkhouse is beyond the barn.”
“Now, just a minute,” Eugene began.
“Let it be,” Cade said, and moved back toward the window again, satisfied that Pixie was not afraid to go with Letty. “I don’t think Letty likes you, Eugene,” he observed.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Cade,” Eugene retorted with a chuckle. “She and me, we’re going to get along just fine. You wait and see. Think I’ll go see if my trunks made it to the bunkhouse. You going to be okay here without me?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
But he wasn’t. There was a gnawing edge of unease in his stomach as the storm worsened. Finally he pulled on a slicker he found hanging by the back door and dashed toward the barn, calling out as he threw open the door, “Doak?”
But Doak didn’t answer. The ranch hand pitching hay into one of the stalls looked up in surprise. “Can I help you, sir?”
“How do I get to the hangar, the airfield where Mrs. Wilder will land?”
“Guess you could take the truck.”
“Fine. The keys?”
“Inside it.”
Cade offered a measured thank-you for the well-traveled road. The snow was beginning to come down now, and in no time it would obscure any landmarks. Suddenly the hangar loomed up before him. Sliding out of the truck, he slammed the door and ran inside.
Standing at the open end was a worried Doak. “Fool woman. She’d have to be crazy to try to land in all this.”
“Don’t you have any lights?” Cade demanded.
“In a cow pasture?”
“How does she land in weather like this?”
“Normally she doesn’t. Normally she’d wait over and fly in when the bad weather passes.”
“Why isn’t she doing that today?”
“She has some notion that she ought to be here when her … guests arrive. She’s been fidgety as a moth caught in a spider’s web since you left here. Won’t let nobody tell her nothing. Guess she was worried you might not come back. But you did. We’re hoping that you can talk some sense into her.”
“Me? What makes you think I have any influence?”
“Well, she’s had on a dress for two nights in a row, and I’ve never known her to wear one unless she was going in to town. We figure she’s practicing for her new man.”
“Is that what she told you?”
“Nope, Rusty don’t tell nobody nothing. But she don’t usually go around naming bulls ‘Pretty Boy’ and calves ‘Darkeyes,’ either. I figured she brought you here for a reason, and being a ranch hand ain’t it. Wait a minute. Listen!”
They heard it, the drone of an engine. It seemed to be skipping every now and then.
“Something’s wrong,” said Cade.
“She’s up there,” Doak said. “I’m going to take the Jeep to the runway approach. Maybe she’ll see the lights and follow me in.”
“I’ll bring the truck too.” Cade climbed in, started the engine, and set off across the field, the lights of the truck making watery beams of light through the mixed snow and rain.
At the end of the runway Doak directed the Jeep’s lights toward the point at which the plane should drop into view. Cade pulled alongside. After a tense moment they heard the plane, coming closer and closer until suddenly it was just above them, coming in at high speed as it drew closer to the ground.
Doak put the Jeep in reverse and spun around. “She’s going too fast.”
At that moment they heard the sound of the collision. The plane dipped its right wing into the ground and spun around, crumpling into a corner of the hangar with a crash.
By the time Cade reached the plane, Rusty was sliding to the ground. She swayed slightly and looked around. Cade covered the distance between the Jeep and Rusty in two steps, lifting her into his arms. As he held her, the snow swirled around, catching in her flame-colored hair like decorations on a Christmas tree. Lightning suddenly split the sky behind the house, followed by a clap of thunder.
“I made it,” Rusty said dazedly, “So did you.”
“Are you hurt?” Cade asked, gazing down at the woman he was holding.
Was she hurt? No. Was she feeling slightly foolish and disoriented? Yes. She blinked as she looked into his frowning eyes.
“No, I don’t think so. Looks like the plane is a little worse for wear, though.” She felt his arms tighten around her, and a flush of heat rushed to her face. She would have said more, but a knot seemed to be blocking her throat. She’d been afraid he wouldn’t come back, that she’d never see him again. But here he was, holding her as if he’d never let go. She wondered for an instant if she was dreaming.
“Next time, stay over.” His voice was snappish and worried. The urge to claim those parted lips was winning. She was blushing, and that knowledge gave him a warm feeling.
Under the intensity of his gaze Rusty shook her head. He was doing it already, giving her orders, and they hadn’t been together ten minutes. “I’ll stay over if I think it’s the thing to do,” she snapped, marshaling her defenses. “Put me down, McCall. I can walk.”
“If I thought so, I’d have let you.”
Cade strode back to the Jeep and motioned to Doak, who nodded and started the Jeep to drive it back to the house. Cade continued to hold her in his lap, burying his chin in her hair. She was still, too still. Then she began to shiver. When the Jeep stopped, he strode through Letty’s empty kitchen, up the stairs, and into the family wing.
“Which room?”
“First door on the right,” she managed to say.
She should be struggling, opposing his take-charge attitude. Instead, her arms had found their way around his neck, and her fingertips were playing on the skin beneath the collar of the slicker. She liked the way his hair curled against his collar. She liked the way it felt, the way he smelled. She tried to pull herself together. “Where’s—your daughter?” she managed to ask.
“My daughter is where you’re about to be—in bed.”
“Bed? Why?”
“For a rest. She’s had a long trip.”
He tightened his grip for a moment, feeling the touch of her breast against his chest, the little warm breaths of air against his neck. Then, reluctantly, he let Rusty down and flicked on the lamp beside her bed. “Take off those wet clothes.”
Take off her clothes? His words rattled around in her conscious mind until she could focus on the meaning. Rusty shook her head. This time he’d gone too far. Concern for her after she wrecked the plane was understandable, but ordering her to undress? She didn’t want to undress. A moment ago she’d been warm. Now she was cold, cold because he wasn’t holding her any longer. She felt like a television screen, fading from color to black and white, and back to color again.
Losing contact with his body gave her a respite from the barrage of emotions plummeting her body. She took a deep sensible breath. “Listen, McCall, I won’t be dictated to. This is my room, and these are my clothes. I’ll take them off when I’m ready.”
“Not this time, Redhead. You’ve had a shock, and you’re wet and cold. This time you take them off when I’m ready. Either you do it, or I’ll do it for you.”
Shock? Yes. Emotional shock as a result of severe mental pressure. That must explain the strange sensations she was feeling. Her legs felt weak, her thoughts fuzzy. She couldn’t even lift her arms to unzip her parka.
Across the room Cade slid out of the damp slicker and let it fall to the floor. He looked around, spotted the bathroom door, and turned on the shower inside. Back at the bed he lifted Rusty and carried her into the bathroom, already filled with steam.
Before she could protest what was happening, Cade had stripped off her jacket and shirt and was sliding her jeans down her legs.
“McCall? This wasn
’t part of our agreement.”
“We haven’t signed an agreement yet, Redhead, and you don’t know what terms I may insist on. I have to do something to earn my keep. I’m no cowboy, you know. I think, however, that I could be a very good lady’s maid.”
“I don’t think that you have any experience at that either,” she said dreamily. “But you can learn.”
Maybe, but first Cade would have to learn control. As Rusty’s body came into view, he felt his insides contract. Her breasts spilled over the edge of a lacy red bra that had to have been designed to drive a man wild. The matching panties were heart-stopping. The lingerie looked new. He smiled. He liked a woman who wore silk beneath denim, especially when its color was hot red.
Cade swallowed hard and picked Rusty up, placing her inside the shower stall.
“Oh, no, McCall. If I have to get wet, so do you.” With an attempt at being stern, Rusty reached out and jerked a surprised Cade under the spray.
“Listen, you,” he began, “you’re wetting my boots, and I just bought them.”
“Oh? You bought a pair of boots?” She looked down at the shower floor. “So you did. You didn’t have to do that. I guess I ought to tell you as my husband-to-be that I intend to keep you barefoot and—no, that’s how you keep a woman, isn’t it? Well, no matter, we’ll improvise.”
Her improvising was reaching mercurial heights when Cade became aware of a pounding on the bathroom door.
“Are you in there, Rusty Wilder?” Letty’s voice was marine drill-sergeant intense.
“Of course,” Rusty said with a lilt in her voice. “Cade’s taking off my clothes.”
The door burst open. “He’s what?”
“I was trying to warm her up,” Cade explained. “She crashed the plane into the hangar, and I think she may be suffering from shock.”
“Nonsense, McCall. I’m suffering from frustration, and I’m doing something about it.”