Montana Mavericks, Books 1-4

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Montana Mavericks, Books 1-4 Page 27

by Diana Palmer


  “I see.” There was a story behind Keith’s connection to Maris and the ranch, Luke decided. For one thing, no one ever mentioned his family, or if he even had one. In fact, Maris had been very closemouthed about Keith right from the first.

  “Are you related to Maris?” Luke quietly asked.

  “No, but I wish I was. Hey, he’s pawing the ground. Is he getting mad, Luke?”

  Luke looked back at the Appaloosa and grinned. “He’d rather be out in the pasture. Well, I’d better get back to work. Me and Rocky are going to be friends, though he doesn’t know it yet.”

  “You named him Rocky? Cool,” Keith commented with an approving grin. “Is it okay if I stay out here and watch you work?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Just don’t yell or make any sudden movements, okay? And keep Blackie on your side of the fence.”

  “Okay.”

  At supper that evening Keith talked on and on about Luke and Rocky. “You should’ve seen how Luke calmed him down, Maris. He rubbed him all over with an old sack, then with a blanket. Rocky loved it.”

  “I’ve seen the process,” Maris said with a glance at Luke, who instantly sent her a grin that she saw as masculine smugness. Obviously he was basking in Keith’s enthusiastic admiration and the whole situation worried her. Luke Rivers, after all, was not the best role model for a boy like Keith.

  That was something she should have considered before this, she realized uneasily. Keith was all but bursting with elation because he was going to be helping Luke with the horses, and she couldn’t very well reverse herself on that decision now.

  She made another decision. After dinner was over she would talk to Luke and ask him to avoid telling Keith stories about his wild-and-woolly good times on the rodeo circuit. Maris actually shuddered at the thought of that sort of camaraderie developing between the two of them. She would be crushed if Keith followed in Ray’s and Luke’s footsteps, particularly since it would be her fault for exposing the boy to a man of Luke’s feckless nature.

  Immediately after dinner, she firmly resolved that whatever it took, she was going to talk to Luke alone. This was not going to be a conversation for Keith to overhear.

  Seven

  “Luke, would you teach me how to use a rope the way you do?”

  Still seated at the dinner table, though everyone had finished eating, Maris let her gaze drift from boy to man. Keith was no longer shy with Luke and was, in fact, developing a bad case of hero-worship. Maris opened her mouth to intervene, but Luke answered before she could suggest that learning to use a rope really wasn’t a very high-priority item.

  “Be glad to, Keith. How about a lesson right now?”

  Keith’s excitement had him up and heading for the door at once, and Maris’s heart sank. Luke, grinning at the boy’s enthusiasm, stood up to follow.

  “Luke,” Maris said in a low voice. “I need to talk to you.”

  Luke’s entire expression changed, his face taking on a predatory cast. “Anytime, babe. Just say the word.”

  Maris’s eyes flashed angrily. “I said talk!”

  “Luke? Are you coming?” Keith called from just outside the door, obviously anxious to get started with his roping lesson.

  “I’m coming.” Almost lazily Luke moved around the table, stopping very close to Maris’s chair to lean over and whisper, “What’s it going to be this time, honey, another fight or something with a little spice to it?”

  She lifted her eyes to send him a venomous look. “It’s happens to be something very important, and I do not appreciate your crude jokes.”

  Laughing deep in his throat, Luke went through the back door to join Keith. Maris continued to sit at the table, while anger wreaked havoc on her nervous system. How dared he call her “babe” and “honey”? If only she didn’t need his proficiency with the horses so badly. For a few seconds she indulged in a gratifying mental image of herself telling him what a careless, negligent, pleasure-seeking jerk he was, and then to get his gear together and get the hell off of her ranch.

  Reality began overriding her anger. Luke wasn’t careless or negligent when it came to the horses, and their training was moving along at a rapid pace. With Mother and Sugar and Zelda and all the other animals he’d been working with, he showed endless patience and an unquestionable expertise. She couldn’t do something so stupid as to lose her temper and destroy the best thing she had going for the ranch, regardless of his insolent reminders that he would gladly take her to bed.

  Besides, there’d been a teasing note in his whispery voice when he’d leaned over her. She probably presented a comical challenge to a man like him, which wasn’t a particularly flattering idea to Maris. Yet what other amusement was there for Luke on the No Bull but to bait her and then watch her feathers ruffle? And dumb her, she bristled on cue. No wonder he’d walked out laughing.

  The table full of dirty dishes suddenly seeped into her senses. Sighing dramatically, she got up to do the dishes.

  But come hell or high water, embarrassment or even another argument, she was going to have that talk with Luke before she went to bed tonight. Keith had made remarkable headway since coming to the ranch, and Luke Rivers was not going to undermine that progress by painting outlandish scenes of romance and adventure on the rodeo circuit for the impressionable teenager.

  Maris was just finishing up with the dishes, when the telephone rang. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she picked up the phone. “No Bull Ranch. This is Maris.”

  “You’re not really serious about changing the name of your ranch, are you, Maris?”

  “It’s already been done, Judd. Hi, how are you?”

  “But I thought you were just kidding around with that new sign.”

  “The Circle W was the Wylers’ ranch, Judd. The No Bull is mine.”

  “Now that doesn’t make any sense at all, Maris, not when it’s the same darned ranch.”

  “It’s not ‘the same darned ranch,’ Judd, but it’ll be a while before it’s obvious to anyone but myself.”

  “Maris, are you all right?” She could hear concern in Judd’s somber voice. “You’re talking kind of funny. Is everything all right out there?”

  Worrying Judd Hensley was the last thing she wanted to do. She was fond of him and appreciated his attention. “Judd, I’m fine and so is everything else.”

  “Well…the reason I called was to ask you out for supper on Friday night. Melissa’s advertising an all-you-can-eat fish fry at the Hip Hop, and I thought you might enjoy it.”

  “I would, but…” Maris bit down on her bottom lip. With all that was going on right now, did she want to leave the ranch for an evening? “Judd…would you mind terribly if I begged off? I’m working very hard to get a yard sale organized, and frankly, I’m completely exhausted at the end of the day.”

  “A yard sale, you say? What’re you planning to sell?”

  “Every piece of junk on the place.”

  “Those things that Ray had stored out behind the barn?”

  “Yes.” Recently she’d been thinking of certain articles in the house that she’d be glad to see the last of, as well. Ray’s gun collection for one. She hated guns, and there were eight rifles and almost as many handguns in a locked gun cabinet in her living room. Cabinet and all were going to be added to her growing list of sale items.

  “Well…I’m disappointed about Friday night, but we’ll do it another time. By the way, how’s your hired man working out?”

  “Luke is a wizard with horses, Judd. He’s working out very well.” Maris had been wondering if Judd would get around to mentioning Luke.

  “Uh, Maris, I’ve been hearing some rumors about—”

  “Don’t say it, Judd,” she interjected sharply. “I despise gossip, especially when it’s totally groundless.”

  Judd was silent a moment. “Sorry I brought it up. I’ll call again, or drop by, Maris.”

  “Do that, Judd.”

  After goodbyes, Maris put down the phone. So, even Judd had hea
rd the gossip about Luke doing more than just working for her. Someone was mighty busy spreading lies, or perhaps no more than amused hints and sly innuendo. Maris had never been the subject of this sort of gossip before, and she didn’t much care for the feeling it gave her.

  But what could she do about it? It would die down after Luke left. Until then she would just have to grin and bear it.

  Maris was becoming impatient. The sun had slipped down below the mountains, it was nearly dark and Luke and Keith were still tossing loops at fence posts. They were getting along famously, she saw from a window, talking and laughing together, whooping when Keith actually succeeded in roping a post. She didn’t want to go out there with some heavy-handed comment about needing to speak to Luke in private, but it was getting late and she was not going to go to bed without having that crucial conversation with Luke.

  From the window it appeared to Maris that Keith was having the time of his life, which raised some extremely disturbing ambiguities within her. She wanted Keith to have fun—he’d had little enough of that before coming to the ranch—but she didn’t want him having fun with a man of Luke Rivers’s ilk. Though she could tell they were talking at intervals, she couldn’t make out their words, and what if Luke was boasting about wine, women and song on the rodeo circuit? Wouldn’t tales of that sort influence a young man, maybe start him thinking that rodeo would be a great way to go?

  With intense relief, she finally saw Keith handing his coiled rope to Luke and starting for the house. The yard light, which was on a sensor responsive to darkness, flashed on and provided enough light for Maris to see Luke going into the barn.

  Keith came in through the kitchen door. “Hi.” He went directly to the refrigerator and took out a gallon of milk. “Roping sure is fun, Maris. You should’ve come down and watched. Luke said I did real well for a beginner.” After pouring himself a tall glass of milk, Keith grabbed a handful of cookies and sat at the table to eat his snack.

  Maris leaned her hips against the sink counter. “You like Luke, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, he’s an all-right guy.”

  “Does he talk very much about himself?”

  Keith looked up. “Why would he do that? Don’t you like him, Maris?”

  She drew a slow and uneasy breath. “I like him just fine. I was just curious about…well, about what the two of you might have discussed.”

  Keith grinned. “We talked about roping. He’s an expert, Maris. He can do all kinds of tricks with ropes.”

  “I’m sure he can.”

  Gulping the last of his milk, Keith got up and rinsed his glass at the sink, the way Maris had requested he do when he’d first come to the ranch. “I’m hitting the sack, Maris. Luke said I could start riding Mother first thing in the morning.”

  “Good night, Keith. See you in the morning.” Maris wanted to kick herself. There was no way she could tell Keith that she’d changed her mind about him working with Luke and the horses, not when Keith’s excitement was almost tangible.

  Maris pushed away from the counter. That talk with Luke was imminent.

  Luke had just stepped out of the shower, when he heard someone knocking on the door of his loft quarters. “Just a minute,” he yelled from the tiny bathroom. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he crossed the living room and pulled open the door.

  His near nudity shocked Maris into momentary speechlessness. Then she stammered, “Uh…put some clothes on. I’ll wait out here.” Shivering with an internal chill, she folded her arms around herself in the barren loft and tried not to listen to the sounds in Luke’s room. His bare feet made a soft slapping noise on the wood floor. A door opened—the closet?—and then she heard the rustle of clothing. Her heart seemed to be beating unusually fast. Her mouth felt dry. She would have to ask him for a glass of water.

  The look on Maris’s face when he’d opened that door, wearing a towel, made Luke chuckle while he yanked on a pair of clean jeans. But he returned to her with a straight face. “Come on in. Mi casa es su casa.”

  “Indeed it is.” Maris swept past him into the room. Damn him! All he’d put on was jeans, and he hadn’t even closed the button at his waist. She suspected that he already considered her a prude, so she wouldn’t mention more clothing if her life depended on it.

  “Have a seat,” Luke drawled.

  There were two places to sit in there, one straight-backed chair and the bed. Maris chose the chair. Luke sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs. “Must be something mighty important eating at you to bring you into my lair,” he said with deliberate and mocking somberness.

  “I’m not here to bandy words with you, Luke, so please cut the macho lines, okay?”

  He changed positions, leaning back on his elbows, half sitting, half reclining. His spread thighs seemed to be pointing directly at her, a flagrant display of manly assets that could only have been more clearly defined without the jeans.

  Maris got up, moved the chair to another location—one without such an arresting view—and sat down again. “I want to talk to you about Keith.”

  “About Keith?” Luke’s teasing came to an abrupt halt and he sat up. “What about Keith?”

  Her mouth was dryer still. Telling, or even asking, Luke how to behave on any level wasn’t a pleasant prospect. “Could I have a glass of water?”

  He looked at her peculiarly, then pushed to his feet. “Yeah, sure.” Disappearing into the bathroom for a moment, he returned with a paper cup of water.

  “Thank you.” Maris drank it down, every drop.

  “What about Keith, Maris?” Luke repeated.

  It couldn’t be put off any longer. She lifted her chin. “I don’t want you filling his head with romantic nonsense about rodeo life. It’s not romantic, and it’s not even very civilized, and…”

  “Hold on a minute.” Luke’s expression had become as hard as granite. “In the first damned place, you don’t know what you’re talking about. How many rodeos did you compete in? How many did you even attend? But that’s not the point. You have your opinion of rodeo and I have mine. What is the point is why you would think I would discuss it with Keith, and second, if it did happen to come up in conversation when we’re together, what makes you think I would romanticize the subject? Rodeo is hard work and tough competition. Most of the men and women competing for the prize money love the sport and work damn hard to prove themselves. Where do you get the nerve to call it uncivilized, when you don’t even understand it?”

  Maris smirked. “I understand it perfectly.”

  “No, babe, you don’t,” Luke said sardonically. “You’re against rodeo because Ray loved it, and that’s the long and the short of it.”

  Maris leapt to her feet. “You smug bastard. Just a regular Mr. Know-it-all, aren’t you? Well, let me tell you something. If Ray had stayed home and taken care of this ranch instead of traipsing all over the country to chase prize money—which he never won—and women—which I’m sure he found by the droves—this ranch wouldn’t be nearly bankrupt. And you have the gall to stand there and tell me not to blame rodeo?”

  “He wasn’t gone all the time, Maris. What did he do when he was home? Even with rodeo a big part of his life, this ranch shouldn’t be bankrupt.”

  It was the God’s truth, the stunning truth, and Maris’s fury wilted right before Luke’s eyes.

  “He drank,” she said listlessly. “I ran the ranch, or tried to, and with him spending every cent coming in, I couldn’t keep it afloat.” Her eyes flashed with renewed anger at the pity she saw in Luke’s. “None of that is any of your business. I will always despise rodeo and nothing you can say or do will ever change my mind. I meant what I said about Keith. He’s a good kid and he’s going to make something of himself. I don’t want him influenced by a bunch of fairy tales about how wonderful bumming around the country to break his neck in some rodeo arena is.”

  Arguing with Maris over the pros and cons of rodeo life was a no-win proposition. Lu
ke sucked in a long, slow breath. “Who is he, Maris? How come he’s living here with you? Where’s his own family?”

  Maris hesitated. “If I tell you about his background, will you keep it to yourself? What I mean is, unless Keith himself mentions it, will you act as though you know nothing about it?”

  “He’s been in trouble with the law, hasn’t he?” Luke said quietly.

  “Do you promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. I’ll never mention it to Keith. What happened?”

  Maris walked to a window and looked out at the black night. This side of the barn was opposite to the yard light, and there really was nothing to see, other than her own reflection in the windowpane.

  “He lived with his father and grandmother. Terrance, his father, is an alcoholic. He beat not only Keith, but his own elderly mother. No one knew it. Keith started getting into trouble at school, then he got caught shoplifting. Sterling McCallum and Jessica got involved in the case. They suspected something terribly wrong in the Colson home, but Keith would never admit to anything. Finally, I guess he just couldn’t take any more abuse. He got hold of an unloaded gun and tried to hold up Bill Murray’s car lot. It was a cry for help. Every time he got in trouble, he eventually got sent back to his father. The poor kid decided that going to jail would be better than living with Terrance. It was Sterling and Jessica who saved him from juvenile detention. Sterling, actually. He called me and told me the story. I needed some help on the place—” Maris turned around to face Luke “—but that wasn’t the reason I agreed to Keith’s coming here. I can’t bear the thought of youngsters being abused, and I wanted him to have a chance at a decent life. It’s been working, Luke. You must be able to see for yourself what a great kid Keith is.”

  Forgetting everything but her vehement concern for Keith, Maris went to Luke and laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t want him to become enchanted with some unstable vocation like rodeo. I want him to get an education and to do something with his life. He’s so young—young enough to be my own son—and I’ve become very attached to him.”

 

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