by Marin Thomas
“Why not? The Prescott area is beautiful, and we might even catch a glimpse of snow up there.”
“It’s tempting, but...” She shook her head. “I need to make a few business calls.”
She didn’t want to be alone with him. “Business calls? Aren’t you taking a hiatus from your job?”
Her teeth worried her lower lip and the innocent action reminded him of when she ran her tongue over the pouty flesh right before he’d kissed her. She pulled free of his grasp. “I don’t think we should be alone, Mack.”
His ego ballooned at the idea that she viewed him as too much of a temptation. Right then and there he decided he’d do whatever was necessary to make sure she sat next to him in his truck when he drove off tomorrow. “You’re free to make business calls while I’m driving.” When she remained silent, he said, “I swear nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen.”
She laughed. “And that’s supposed to reassure me?”
“C’mon. Before you know it, your respite at the ranch will be over and you’ll be working nine-to-five again.” She rubbed her brow and he sensed she was giving his proposition serious consideration.
“When are you leaving?”
The sweet rush of victory swept through him. “After breakfast.”
“Okay.” She opened the cabin door.
“Bring a warm coat. Never can tell what kind of weather we’ll run into north of Phoenix, and don’t forget to pack an overnight bag.”
“What for?”
“I’d rather wait until the next morning to head back.” The last thing he wanted to do was have a tire blow out or hit a deer on a dark road with Beth in the truck.
“Fine.” The door shut in his face.
He walked off, grinning.
* * *
LATE MONDAY MORNING Beth waited in front of the cantina for Mack to pull up in his truck. Her stomach hadn’t stopped fluttering since she’d woken at five. She was both excited and nervous about accompanying him to Prescott.
Since his declaration that he intended to change her mind about him, she’d see-sawed between wanting him to leave her alone and wanting him to fight for her attention, which made her feel even guiltier for accepting his invitation today. A long-term relationship between them wasn’t in the picture—at least not the one she painted for them. And she worried he’d accuse her of leading him on when they parted ways.
The sound of a pickup reached her ears seconds before Mack’s silver Ford came into view. He put the vehicle in Park, got out and set her overnight bag in the backseat. “You ready?”
No. “Yes.”
“Mack!” Dave jogged toward them. “Be careful on the roads today. They’re predicting snow near Prescott.”
Mack opened Beth’s door and she slid onto the seat. “I’ll call once I see the herd.”
“No need to unless you don’t like what you see. Last night I phoned Miller and negotiated a price for the fifty head. All he’s waiting for is an okay from you to deliver them to the ranch.”
“Sounds good.” Mack shut Beth’s door and walked around to the driver’s side and hopped behind the wheel. “I’m going to make you a promise.”
“No more promises.” Mack’s promises were nothing but trouble.
“Too late.” He winked.
He was a big flirt—a flirt Beth was helplessly falling for.
“I promise that you’re going to wish the next two days would last forever.”
Gathering his words close to her heart she said, “We’ll see, cowboy.”
He reached across the seat and gently squeezed her fingers. “Yes, ma’am, we will indeed see.”
As soon as they reached the highway, Beth announced, “I’m going to close my eyes for a while.” Then she promptly fell asleep.
In repose Beth appeared young and innocent, but Mack suspected her husband’s betrayal and the subsequent divorce had taken a toll on her. He’d let her sleep, and hopefully she’d be well-rested for a night on the town. Four hours had flown by when Mack took the dirt road that led to the Still Water Ranch.
“We’re here already?” Beth yawned and stretched.
“You slept the entire way.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“I’m glad you caught a little shut-eye.” He parked in front of the main house then got out and opened Beth’s door.
“Howdy!” A man walked toward them.
“You must be Bud.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m Mack Cash.” He offered his hand.
“Who’s this pretty filly you brought with you?” Bud tipped his hat.
“Beth Richards,” she said before Mack could introduce her.
“Welcome to Still Water.” Bud pointed to an enclosed pasture. “Those are the cows I handpicked for your boss. Why don’t you wander over to the fence and take a look at them while I make a quick phone call.”
“Sure thing.” Once Bud retreated inside the house, Mack took Beth by the hand and crossed the ranch yard.
“What do you think?” Beth propped her boot on the lower rail of the fence. A crisp breeze blew her hair across her face and she brushed it aside.
“They look to be in good health. What do you think?” he said.
“Me? I don’t know a thing about cattle.” Then she motioned to a cow with big white splotches. “That one is pretty.”
“She’s a beauty, all right.” Mack thought Beth was the real beauty. “See how the others are trailing behind her. She’s leading them to the grain bin.”
“How do you know so much about cattle when you grew up on a pecan farm?”
“I worked summers on a ranch helping my brother Johnny punch cows.”
“Not literally, I hope.”
He nodded to a steer standing by itself. “That one’s a renegade.”
“How can you tell?”
“See him stomp the ground.”
She nodded.
“He’s bored.”
“Can you blame him?” She swept an arm in front of her. “There’s nothing to do out there but walk around and eat grass.”
Beth’s comment opened the door to a question he’d wanted to ask her for a while. “Have you always lived in a city?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Did you ever consider living in the country?”
“It’s never entered my mind. As far as cities go, Yuma’s small compared to San Diego.” She eyed the herd. “If I hadn’t met Brad and married him, I’d probably be in California right now.”
“I guessed you were no Annie Oakley when I met you at the bar.”
“I’m the furthest thing from a country girl, but I admit I’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet at the dude ranch, especially at night when I sit on the porch and watch the sun set.”
“You might not be a country girl, but you like to shake things up once in a while.”
“Are you going to hold my one night at the Number 10 against me forever?”
Keeping a straight face he said, “You might have more wild oats to sow.”
Her expression sobered. “Maybe you’re right. I went straight through college and grad school without taking a break. I met and married Brad within a year of starting a new job, and then I worked long hours to prove myself to my employer. I guess I never really let loose.”
“Then you need to kick up your heels and party.” And Mack wanted to be the man she had a good time with.
“Back to the reason we’re here,” she said. “What does it matter if that cow is bored?”
“He’ll cause trouble in the herd and we need cattle we can trust. A stampede could kill a ranch guest.”
“Sounds dangerous. Maybe you should herd sheep, instead.”
“That’s
not even funny.”
“What’s not funny?” Bud joined them at the fence.
“Beth suggested we herd sheep instead of cows.”
“Shame on you, missy. This is cattle country. No sheep allowed.”
“So I’ve been told,” she said.
“Sorry about the phone call.” Bud took off his cowboy hat and shoved his fingers through his hair.
“I like what I see, except for the lone wolf out there,” Mack said.
“He’s bored.”
Mack sent Beth an I-told-you-so look.
“As long as you drive the cattle once a week and don’t let them sit more than a few days in the same spot, he shouldn’t cause trouble.”
“Okay, then.” Mack shook Bud’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
They settled on a delivery date, then Bud thanked Mack for doing business with the Still Water Ranch and retreated to his office.
“I don’t know about you,” Mack said, “but I’m starving. Let’s grab a bite to eat at the Tepee Truck Stop down the road from here.”
“Sure.” Beth hopped into the pickup. “Where did you plan to stay the night?” She wondered if he expected her to share a motel room with him. Half of her wanted to fall into Mack’s arms again and for one more night pretend she was everything he’d ever wanted or needed, and the other half was afraid it would only lead to heartbreak—hers.
“I thought we’d drive as far as Aguila and check out the Burro Jim Motel.”
“The Burro Jim Motel?”
“It’s a desert oasis.” He laughed. “That’s what the website said. There’s a big donkey sign in front of the motel.”
“I’m not sure I want that kind of fun,” she said.
“If we don’t like it, there’s a Best Western in town.”
“That sounds better.”
For the second time that day he reached across the seat and grasped her hand. “You’ve been a good sport. This cattle stuff must be boring as hell.”
“Not really.” She could get used to Mack reaching for her. Her ex hadn’t been a toucher—he’d blamed it on his German blood but now she knew better. Brad hadn’t been in love with her.
“You’ll like the Tepee’s Geronimo burger. It’s spicy like you.”
She snorted. “No one’s ever accused me of being spicy.” Only dependable, quiet and polite.
The drive to the truck stop took twenty-five minutes. When they arrived, the parking lot was crammed with media vehicles and state highway patrol cars.
“Let’s find out what happened,” Mack said.
Beth didn’t unsnap her seat belt.
“What’s the matter?”
She swallowed hard, her eyes riveted on the Channel 3 vehicles. No way would she be able to sneak inside the restaurant without running into a reporter. Thank God Brad anchored the sports desk; at least she knew he wouldn’t be here. And neither would her old boss, because she’d delivered a baby boy two days ago. Beth had seen the Facebook post. “Let’s find a different place to eat.”
“And miss out on a Geronimo burger?” He nodded to the trucks. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about all this?”
Not really.
Mack got out then skirted the hood and opened her door. As he guided her through the throng of reporters, she focused on her shoes rather than the action in the parking lot.
“Beth? Beth Richards, is that you?”
Mack held up, leaving her no choice but to stop, too. Pasting a fake smile on her face she spoke to the reporter. “Hello, Ramona.” Hoping to cut the woman off at the pass, she asked, “What’s going on?”
The question took a few seconds to sink into Ra-mona’s head, because the reporter was too busy gawking at Mack. Ramona was four years younger than Beth and with the help of plastic surgeons, the blonde was a knockout. “There’s a roadblock a few miles up the highway. A gunman robbed the Savings and Loan in Prescott yesterday, and he was spotted in the area a couple of hours ago. They think he might be holed up in an abandoned cabin near here.”
“Is the teller okay?” Beth asked.
Ramona nodded. “The robber got away with two hundred thousand dollars.” Ramona’s gaze latched on to Mack. “Looks like both you and Brad moved on pretty fast.”
“Mack, this is Ramona Simmons. Ramona, this is Mack Cash.”
“Nice name. Sounds country music-ish.”
Mack flashed his pearly whites. “Nice to meet you.”
“We’re in a hurry.” Beth made a move to step past Ramona but she blocked her escape.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t know they’d hooked up until a few months afterward.”
Beth’s face flamed. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of Mack.
“And I’m sorry about the baby. Until Brad told everyone, I had no idea you couldn’t—”
“We really need to get going.” Beth tugged Mack’s arm.
Ramona walked beside them. “Anyway, it looks like you rebounded just fine.”
“Good luck with the story.” Beth made a dash for the restaurant entrance, Mack’s boot heels clunking against the asphalt behind her. A second later his arm came into view when he reached in front of her and opened the door.
She skidded to a halt inside. Damn. She squared off with the news anchor. She didn’t like the man—not since she’d overheard him joking at the company picnic that Brad was an idiot for marrying her when he could have gotten a woman way prettier than she was.
“This is a surprise.” The jerk offered his hand to Mack. “Tim Wetzel. Channel 3 news anchor.”
“Mack Cash.”
Tim glanced between her and Mack. “You two aren’t...”
Beth wanted to cry when Mack set his hand against her waist and inched closer. “Aren’t what?” he asked.
“I guess I can tell Brad that you’re doing a lot better than he thinks.” Tim chuckled. “He said you’d gone off the deep end and quit your job.”
No way would she stand here and listen to this idiot talk her down. “Good luck with the story.” She entered the restaurant and seated herself at a booth next to the windows. Mack slid onto the bench across from her, then a waitress named Peg delivered glasses of water to the table.
“Can I get you anything else to drink while you look over the menus?”
“I’ll have coffee, please,” Beth said.
“Make that two.”
Once Peg left them alone, Beth rubbed a burn mark that marred the Formica tabletop.
“I’m sorry we ran into these folks,” Mack said.
“It’s not your fault.” She peeked up at him. His brown eyes were filled with compassion and questions.
“Beth.”
“What?”
“How do all these people know your ex-husband?”
Did you think you could keep Brad’s identity a secret forever?
No, but she’d hoped that while she was with Mack she could pretend her ex didn’t exist.
“Brad Stevens is...was my husband.”
“The sports anchor for Channel 3?”
She nodded.
“He’s good. I watch his sportscast every night.”
“Apparently, he’s good at a lot of things.” Like sleeping with her boss.
“What was that woman referring to when she said she’d heard about the baby? What baby is she talking about?”
“Brad got my boss pregnant.”
Mack’s eyes rounded.
Peg rescued Beth from having to say more when she brought their coffee. “Ready to order?”
“We’ve changed our minds about eating.” Mack left a ten-dollar bill next to his mug then scooted from the booth and offered his hand to Beth. “Let’s get out of here.”
/> Clutching his fingers as if they were a lifeline, they left through a side door and made it to the pickup undetected by the news team. A few seconds later, they left the truck stop, the silence in the cab suffocating.
Chapter Seven
Mack gripped the steering wheel, wishing his fingers were squeezing the news anchor’s neck. Who did the guy think he was, speaking to Beth that way? Mack had known Beth’s husband had cheated on her—but with her boss? That was low. No wonder she’d quit her job.
He glanced across the seat. Beth stared straight ahead—probably not seeing a damn thing out the windshield.
“You can stop worrying,” she said.
“About what?”
She looked at him, her pretty brown eyes clouded with pain. “That I’m going to lose it. Fall apart. Become hysterical.”
“You did that already?”
“That’s what the night at the Number 10 was all about.”
He didn’t believe her. Beth was an investment adviser. She calculated numbers. A person like her pondered, gathered facts and analyzed data for eons before reaching a conclusion or, in her case, reacting to an event. He’d bet his Gibson guitar that she hadn’t yet come to grips with her husband’s betrayal.
He wasn’t in any position to dole out advice, but maybe he could take her mind off running into the TV crew. Besides, with the highway blocked indefinitely, the best place to find a decent motel room for the night was in Prescott. “I know where we’re going.”
“Where?”
“The Bird Cage Saloon.” At her frown he asked, “Have you ever heard of the famous Whiskey Row in Prescott?”
“No.”
“During the 1800s the street was lined with bars from one end to the other. A fire destroyed the block in 1900 but they rebuilt it exactly, using brick, and it’s become a tourist attraction. My band’s played at the Bird Cage.”
“Why are we going to a bar?”
“Because you need to let loose.” He held his breath, wondering if she’d agree to his plan.
“Okay, I’m game.”
Relief swept through Mack. Tonight would be a do-over of their first meeting, only it would end differently—he’d wake up in the morning with Beth in his arms.
They reached Prescott at dusk and he parked in front of the saloon. When they entered the Bird Cage a band Mack wasn’t familiar with played on stage. He guided Beth to a booth in the corner.