Breaking Bailey's Rules

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Breaking Bailey's Rules Page 8

by Brenda Jackson


  “Look, Walker. My intentions were good, and regardless of what you think of me I did come here to personally apologize.”

  “Fine. You’ve apologized. Now you can leave.’

  “Leave? I just got here! Where am I to go?”

  He frowned. “How did you get here?”

  “I caught a taxi from the airport.”

  A dark brow lowered beneath a bunched forehead. “Then, call them to come pick you up.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “And go where? My return flight back to Denver isn’t for forty-eight hours.”

  His frown deepened. “Then, I suggest you stay with your cousins in Fairbanks. You’ve met Garth. He will introduce you to the others.”

  Her spine stiffened. “Why can’t I wait it out here?”

  He glared at her. “Because you aren’t welcome here, Bailey.”

  * * *

  Walker flinched at the harshness of his own words. He regretted saying them the moment they left his lips. He could tell by the look on her face that they’d hurt her. He then remembered how kind her family had been to him, a virtual stranger, and he knew that no matter how he felt about her, she didn’t deserve what he’d just said. But then, what had given her the right to come here uninvited?

  He watched as she placed the cup on the table and slid back into her jacket. Then she reached for her coat.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, noticing how the loud sound of his voice seemed to blast off the walls.

  She lifted her chin as she buttoned up her coat. “What does it look like I’m doing? Leaving. You’ve made it clear you don’t want me here, and one thing I don’t do is stay where I’m not wanted.”

  He wanted to chuckle at that. Hadn’t her cousins and brothers told him, jokingly, how she used to impose herself on them? Sometimes she’d even done so purposely, to rattle any of their girlfriends she hadn’t liked. “Forget what I said. I was mad.”

  When her coat was buttoned practically to her neck, she glared at him. “And you’re still mad. I didn’t come all the way here for verbal abuse, Walker. I came to apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.” The memory of what had followed the last time he’d said those words slammed into his mind. He’d kissed her, feasting on her mouth like a hungry man who’d been denied food for years.

  He could tell from the look in her eyes that she was remembering, as well. He figured that was the reason she broke eye contact with him to look at the flames blazing in the fireplace. Too late—the wood burning wasn’t the only thing crackling in the room. He could feel that stirring of sensual magnetism that always seemed to surround them. It was radiating more heat than the fireplace.

  “Now that I think about it, staying here probably isn’t a good idea,” she said, glancing back at him.

  He released a deep breath and leaned back on his heels. She was right. It wasn’t a good idea, but it was too late to think about that now. “A storm’s headed this way so it doesn’t matter if you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “It matters to me if you don’t want me here,” she snapped.

  He rubbed his hand down his face. “Look, Bailey. I think we can tolerate each other for the next forty-eight hours. Besides, this place is so big I doubt if I’ll even see you during that time.” To be on the safe side, he would put her in one of the guest rooms on the south wing. That part of the house hadn’t been occupied in over fifteen years.

  “Where’s your luggage?” he asked. The quicker he could get her settled in, the quicker he could ignore her presence.

  “The airline lost it, although they say it has just been misplaced. They assured me they will deliver it here within twenty-four hours.”

  That probably wasn’t going to happen, he thought, but figured there was no reason to tell her that. “Just in case they’re delayed, I have a couple of T-shirts you can borrow to sleep in.”

  “Thanks.”

  “If you’re hungry I can fix you something. I hadn’t planned on preparing dinner till later, but there are some leftovers I can warm up.”

  “No, thanks. I’m not hungry. But I would appreciate if I could wash up and lie down for a bit. The flight from Anchorage was sort of choppy.”

  “Usually it is, unfortunately. I’ll show you up to the room you’ll be using. Just follow me.”

  Seven

  The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house jarred Bailey awake and had her scrambling to sit up in bed and try to remember where she was. It all came tumbling back to her. Kodiak Island, Alaska. Walker’s ranch.

  She settled back down in bed, remembering the decision she had made to come here. She could finally admit it had been a bad one. Hadn’t Walker said she wasn’t welcome? But she had been determined to come after deciding a phone-call apology wouldn’t do. She needed to tell him in person that she was sorry.

  And she would even admit that a part of her had wanted to see him face-to-face. Everyone in the family had been surprised he’d left early, and although no one questioned her about it, she knew they suspected she was to blame. And she had been. So no one had seemed surprised when she announced her plans to travel to Kodiak. However, Dillon had pulled her aside to ask if that was something she really wanted to do. She’d assured him that it was, and told him she owed Walker an apology and wanted to deliver it to him personally.

  So here she was, in an area as untamed and rugged as the most remote areas of Westmoreland Country. But there were views she had passed in the cab that had been so beautiful they had almost taken her breath away. Part of her couldn’t wait to see the rest of it.

  Bailey heard the sound of a door slamming again and glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. Had she slept for four hours?

  She suddenly sniffed the air. Something smelled good, downright delicious. Walker had been cooking. She hoped he hadn’t gone to any trouble just for her. When her stomach growled she knew she needed to get out of bed and go downstairs.

  She recalled Walker leading her up to this room and the two flights of stairs they’d taken to get here. The moment she’d followed him inside she’d felt something she hadn’t felt in years. Comfort. Somehow this guest room was just as warm and welcoming as the living room had been.

  It might have been the sturdy-looking furniture made of dark oak. Or the huge bed that had felt as good as it looked. She couldn’t wait to sleep in it tonight. Really sleep in it. Beneath the covers and not on top like she’d done for her nap. Getting out of bed, she headed for the bathroom, glad she at least had her carry-on containing her makeup and toiletries.

  A few minutes later, feeling refreshed and less exhausted, she left the guest room to head downstairs. She hoped Walker was in a better mood than he’d been in earlier.

  * * *

  Walker checked the timer on the stove before lifting the lid to stir the stew. He’d cooked more than the usual amount since he had a houseguest. Bailey had been asleep for at least four hours and even so, her presence was disrupting his normal routine. He would have driven around his land by now, checking on the herds and making sure everything was ready for the impending snowstorm. He’d talked to Willie, his ranch foreman, who had assured him everything had been taken care of.

  That brought his thoughts back to Bailey, and he uttered an expletive under his breath. He’d figured out the real reason, the only one that made sense, as to why she was here, using an apology as an excuse. She probably thought she could make him change his mind about doing the interview, but she didn’t know how wrong she was.

  As far as he was concerned, she’d wasted her time coming here. Although he had to admit it had been one hell of a gutsy move. As gutsy as it was crazy. He’d warned her the first day they’d met that winters in Alaska were a lot worse than the coldest day in Denver. Evidently she hadn’t believed him and now w
ould find out the truth for herself. She had arrived nearly frozen.

  But nearly frozen or not, that didn’t stop the male in him from remembering how good she’d looked standing on his porch. Or how she’d looked standing by his fireplace after she’d removed layer after layer of clothing.

  He had awakened this morning pretty much prepared for anything. He figured it was only a matter of time before Garth showed up. And a snowstorm blowing in was the norm. What he hadn’t counted on was Bailey showing up out of Alaska’s cold blue sky. When he’d left Denver, he had assumed their paths wouldn’t cross again. There was no reason why they should. Even if the Outlaws kindled a relationship with the Westmorelands, that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything to him, because he lived here on the island and seldom flew to Fairbanks.

  “Sorry I overslept.”

  He turned around and then wished he hadn’t. She was still wearing the clothes she’d had on earlier, since she didn’t have any others, but his gaze moved beyond that. From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing any makeup and she had changed her hairstyle. It no longer hung around her shoulders but was pulled back in a ponytail. The style made her features look younger, delicate and sexy enough to make his lower body throb.

  “No problem,” he said, turning his attention back to the stove.

  He’d seen enough of her. Too much for his well-being. Having her standing in the middle of his kitchen, a place he’d never figured she would be, was sending crazy thoughts through his head. Like how good she looked in that particular spot. A spot where Kalyn had never stood. In fact, his wife had refused to come to Kodiak. She hadn’t wanted to visit the place where he was born. Had referred to it as untamed wilderness that lacked civilization. She hadn’t wanted to visit such a remote area, much less live there. She was a California girl through and through. She’d lived for the beaches, the orange groves and Hollywood. Anything else just didn’t compute with her.

  “What are you cooking? Smells good.”

  He inwardly smiled, although he didn’t want to. Was that her way of letting him know she was hungry? “Bison stew. My grandmother’s recipe,” he said over his shoulder.

  “No wonder it smells good, then.”

  Now, aren’t you full of compliments, he thought sarcastically, knowing she was probably trying to be nice for a reason. But he wasn’t buying it, because he knew her motives. “By the time you wash up I’ll have dinner on the table.”

  “I’ve washed up and I can help. Thanks to Chloe I’m pretty good in the kitchen. Tell me what you need me to do.”

  “Why Chloe?”

  “In addition to all her other talents, she is a wonderful cook and often prepares breakfast for Ramsey and his men. Remind me to tell you one day how she and Ramsey met.”

  He came close to saying that he wouldn’t be reminding her of anything, and he didn’t need her to do anything, unless she could find her way back to the airport. But he reined in his temper and said, “You can set the table. Everything you need is in that drawer over there.” He never ate at a set table but figured it would give her something to do so she wouldn’t get underfoot. Not that trying to put distance between them really mattered. Her scent had already downplayed the aroma of the stew.

  The ringing of his cell phone on the kitchen counter jarred him out of his thoughts. He moved from the stove to pick it up, recognizing his foreman’s ringtone.

  “Yes, Willie? What is it?”

  “It’s Marcus, boss,” Willie said in a frantic tone. “A big brown’s got him pinned in a shack and nothing we can do will scare him off. We’ve been firing shots, but we haven’t managed a hit.”

  “Damn. I’m on my way.”

  Walker turned and quickly moved toward the closet where his parkas hung and his boots were stored. “Got to go,” he said quickly. “That was Willie Hines, my foreman. A brown bear has one of my men holed up in a shack and I need to get there fast.”

  “May I go?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to tell her no. Then he changed his mind. It probably had something to do with that pleading look on her face. “Yes, but stay out of the way. Grab your coat, hat and scarf. And be quick. My men are waiting.”

  She moved swiftly and by the time he’d put on his boots she was back. He grabbed one of the rifles off the rack. When she reached up and grabbed a rifle off the rack as well, he stared at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m not a bad shot. Maybe I can help.”

  He doubted she could and just hoped she stayed out of the way, but he didn’t have time to argue. “Fine, let’s go.”

  * * *

  “I thought bears normally hibernated in the winter,” Bailey said, hanging on in the Jeep. Walker was driving like a madman and the seat belt was barely holding her in place. On top of that, her thick wool coat was nothing against the bone-chilling wind and the icy slivers of snow that had begun to fall.

  “It’s not officially winter yet. Besides, this particular brown is probably the same one who’s been causing problems for the past year. Nothing he does is normal. There’s been a bounty on his head for a while now.”

  Bailey nodded. Although bears were known to reside in the Rockies, they were seldom seen. She’d known of only one incident of a bear in Westmoreland Country. Dillon had called the authorities, who had captured the bear and set him free elsewhere. She then remembered what Walker had told her the first day they’d met. There were more bears than people living on Kodiak Island.

  The Jeep came to a sudden stop in front of three men she figured worked for Walker. He was out of the truck in a flash and before she could unbuckle her seat belt, he snapped out an order. “Stay put, Bailey.”

  She grudgingly did as she was told and watched him race toward the men. They pointed at the scene taking place a hundred or so feet ahead of them. The creature wasn’t what she’d expected of a brown bear. He was a huge grizzly tearing away at a small, dilapidated shack, pawing through timber, lumber and planks trying to get to the man trapped inside. Unless someone did something, it wouldn’t take long for the bear to succeed. And if anyone tried shooting the bear now, they would place the man inside the shack at risk.

  She didn’t have to hear what Walker and his men were saying to know they were devising a plan to pull the bear’s attention away from the shack. And it didn’t take long to figure out that Walker had volunteered to be the bait. Putting his own life at risk.

  She watched, horrified, as Walker raced forward to get the bear’s attention, coming to a stop at what seemed to be just a few feet from the animal. At first it seemed as if nothing could dissuade the bear. A few more loose timbers and he would get his prey. She could hear the man inside screaming in fright, begging for help before it was too late.

  Walker then picked up a tree limb and hit the bear. That got the animal’s attention. Bailey held her breath when the bear turned and went charging after Walker. The plan was for Walker to lure the bear away from the shack so his men could get a good shot. It seemed the ploy was working until Walker lost his balance and fell to the ground.

  Bailey was out of the Jeep in a flash, her rifle in her hand. She stood beside the men and raised her gun to take a shot.

  “There’s no way you can hit that bear from here, lady,” one of the men said.

  She ignored his words, knowing Walker would be mauled to death unless she did something. She pulled the trigger mere seconds before the bear reached Walker. The huge animal fell and it seemed the earth shook under the weight.

  “Did you see that?”

  “She got that grizzly and her rifle doesn’t even have a scope on it.”

  “How can she shoot like that? Where did she come from?”

  Ignoring what the three men were saying, she raced over to Walker. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just banged my leg against tha
t damn rock when I tripped.”

  Placing her rifle aside, she leaned down to check him over and saw the red bloodstain on the leg of his jeans. He wasn’t fine.

  She turned to his men, who were looking at her strangely. “He’s injured. I need two of you to lift him and take him to the Jeep. The other one, I need to check on the man in the shack. I think he passed out.”

  “I said I’m fine, Bailey, and I can walk,” Walker insisted.

  “Not on that leg.” She turned to the men. “Lift him and take him to the truck,” she ordered again.

  “Don’t anyone dare lift me. I said I can walk,” Walker snapped at the two men who moved toward him.

  “No, you can’t walk,” she snapped back at him. She then glared at his men, who stood staring, unsure whose orders to follow. “Do it!” she demanded, letting them know she expected her order to be followed regardless of what Walker said.

  As if they figured any woman who could shoot that well was a woman whose order should be obeyed, they quickly moved to lift Walker. He spewed expletives, which they all ignored.

  “I’ll call Doc Witherspoon to come quick,” one of the men said after they placed Walker in the Jeep. “And we’ll be right behind you to help get him out once you reach the ranch house.”

  She quickly got in on the driver’s side. “Thanks.”

  She glanced over at Walker, who was now unconscious, and fought to keep her panic at bay. Of all the things she figured she’d have to deal with upon reaching Alaska, killing a grizzly bear hadn’t been one of them.

  Eight

  Walker came awake, then reclosed his eyes when pain shot up his leg. It took him a while before he reopened them. When he did, he noted that he was in his bed and flat on his back. It didn’t take him long to recall why. The grizzly.

 

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