by Robin Wells
Except that he wanted her to leave, and here she was, making herself at home, becoming thicker than thieves with Consuela.
Still, making a fuss did nothing but make him look as ill-tempered as a penned-up bull. “Suit yourself,” he muttered. Even to his own ears, it sounded like a particularly ingracious way to show appreciation for volunteer labor. “Thanks for giving us a hand,” he forced himself to add.
Consuela smiled warmly at Josie. “Yes, thank you.” She wiped her hands on her white apron. “Now if you two will excuse me, I need to run to the cellar to get some onions for the hash browns.”
Luke plucked his hat from the chair as Consuela scurried from the room. After the way Josie had affected him last night, he had no intention of being alone with her again. “I’ll go see about pulling your car out of the mud,” he said.
“There’s no hurry,” Josie replied, glancing up from the potatoes. “I won’t need it for a week.”
A weight sank and settled at the bottom of Luke’s stomach like a thrown horseshoe. “So you intend to stay.”
“I told you I wouldn’t change my mind.”
Luke swallowed and forced his lips into a smile. “Well, fine.” Yeah, fine and dandy. He could look forward to a full week of raging testosterone. Even now, at five-thirty in the morning, he felt a pull of attraction to her.
He shifted his hat to his other hand and headed for the door. “Well, enjoy yourself. The activities schedule is posted in the dining room. The group trail ride leaves at ten.”
Josie’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh, I’m not going with the group. I’m supposed to have private trail rides as a part of my package.”
Luke stopped in his tracks. She wasn’t really going to insist on all that honeymoon stuff, was she? “That package is for two people.”
“Why should that matter? I’ve paid for the whole thing.”
“But…but it’ll just be you and the trail guide.” And the trail guide is Butch Avery, the most prolific womanizer in the county, he added silently. Butch considered anything in a skirt to be fair game—and the objective of his game was to see how many notches he could carve on his bedpost. Letting a vulnerable, heartbroken woman go off alone with Butch would be like letting a fox baby-sit a chicken.
Josie placed the bowl in the sink, flipped on the faucet and began rinsing the potatoes. “I’ve never been big on group activities. Besides, you told me yourself that all the guests this week are couples and I’d feel like a third wheel.”
“But…but…”
Her spine visibly stiffened. “But what?”
Luke shifted his hat to the other hand. “Well, Josie, it’s a little much to expect us to dedicate one of our staff members to just one guest.”
“Is the whole ranch as understaffed as the lodge?”
“No…” Luke admitted.
She snapped off the faucet and whipped around. “So let me see if I’ve got this straight. If I had a man with me, it wouldn’t be a problem. But since I’m by myself, you suddenly don’t have the staff?”
Dadblast it! She’d twisted it all around. “Look, I’ll be more than happy to refund the difference between our regular guest rates and the honeymoon package.”
“I don’t want a refund. I want exactly the same experience I would have gotten if I’d come here with a husband. I refuse to have my life compromised because I’m not part of a couple.” Josie fixed him with a heated glare. “You know, there’s a term for what you’re trying to do here. It’s called discrimination.”
“Now, wait just a cotton pickin’ moment!” Luke raked a hand through his hair and glared back.
She placed both hands on her hips, her eyes flashing. “Come to think of it, there’s another term that applies, too. Bait and switch.”
The only thing he’d like to switch was her behind. Dammit, he was only trying to protect her, but he could just imagine her reaction if he attempted to explain it to her.
Well, if she was going to take this attitude, she deserved whatever she got. Luke clamped his hat on his head. “At the Lazy O, we aim to please,” he said tersely. “I’ll tell Butch to saddle up for a honeymoon ride.”
He only hoped Butch wouldn’t take the instructions too much to heart.
The sun was high in the sky when Luke pulled up at the corral and switched off the engine of his pickup truck. Rolling down the window, he leaned out to watch Butch help Josie down from the roan mare named Petunia.
His mouth twisted in a scowl. Just as he’d predicted: Butch was all over her like a cow in clover. The cowboy’s hands stayed on her waist far longer than necessary, and he stood so close to her he could probably smell her soft, flowery scent. The thought made Luke do a slow burn, which blazed into outright anger as he watched the cowboy run a hand down Josie’s shapely backside just before he released her.
Luke slammed the door hard enough to rattle the truck windows and strode toward the corral, where Butch had begun unsaddling the mare.
“Enjoying yourselves?” Luke demanded.
Josie looked up, her blue eyes startled. “I loved the ride.”
“Well, howdy there, boss,” Butch drawled. “This little lady’s real handy in the saddle.”
And I bet you’re just dying to find out how she is in the sack, Luke thought darkly. “Is that a fact,” he replied curtly.
“Yes, sir. She’s real taken with the ranch, too. I’m plannin’ on takin’ her on a tour of the place this afternoon. She wants to see the longhorn cattle you’re breeding, and I thought I’d show her the canoe launch site, too.” The gleam in Butch’s eyes reminded Luke of a dog with a new bone.
“Sorry, Butch, but I’ve got an errand I need for you to run this afternoon.”
“Can’t you send someone else?”
“All the other hands are tied up today.”
Butch ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair. “Well, maybe I can do it while Josie’s at lunch.”
Luke shook his head. “Afraid you’ll have to go all the way to Tulsa to take care of this.”
“What is it?”
Luke thought fast. “We’re fencing off a portion of the back pasture, and I need some barbed wire.”
Butch gave a relieved grin. “Oh, I can buy that in Tahlequah.”
“Not this kind. Stop by the house in half an hour and I’ll give you the specs.” That should give him enough time to look up an obscure type of wire in one of his equipment catalogues, Luke thought.
Butch glanced at Josie. “I sure hate to let this little lady down.”
“I don’t mind exploring the ranch on my own,” she said quickly.
Luke shook his head. “I can’t let you do that. Our insurance prohibits unescorted guests from roaming the ranch.”
“But the agenda for the first day of my package includes a tour,” Josie protested.
Luke hesitated. He’d been so intent on getting her away from Butch’s clutches that he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He scuffed a cowboy boot in the dirt and hooked his thumb through a belt loop. “There’s a group nature hike this afternoon,” he ventured.
Josie’s chin tilted upward. “You know how I feel about group activities.”
Yeah, he did—and he secretly shared her sentiments. As much as it irritated him, he had to admit he admired the way she stood up for herself and insisted on getting what she wanted.
He met her gaze and was temporarily undone by the blue of her eyes. Those eyes made him want to find out what other things they might have in common, what else about her there was to admire. When she looked at him like that, it was hard to remember all the reasons he didn’t want to get involved with her.
For starters, he reminded himself, this was supposed to be her honeymoon. She might not act like it, but he couldn’t let himself forget for a moment that she had a freshly broken heart. She might have fooled Consuela with that cock-and-bull story about never having loved the guy, but he wasn’t buying it. And if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he never wanted to be
a stand-in for some other man again.
Besides, even if she weren’t one of the walking wounded, she still lived in Tulsa. She was a city girl who thought a ranch was romantic, of all things. Not to mention the fact that she lived a two-hour drive away. He didn’t have time for a long-distance romance, and there was no point in getting anything started that could only last a week. Unlike Butch, he wasn’t the type for such a short-term fling. He was pretty sure she wasn’t, either.
No, pursuing her was out of the question. If he had any sense at all, he’d avoid her like a pit of rattlesnakes.
“So who’s going to take me on the tour?” she asked.
Dammit, he could just kick himself. He couldn’t assign another ranch hand now because he’d just said everyone else was busy.
Instead of avoiding the pit, he’d jumped right in it. And those rattlers were closing in.
He tipped the brim of his hat and sighed. “I reckon that’ll be me.”
Chapter Four
Luke ground his pickup to a halt in front of the lodge shortly after the lunch hour and exhaled harshly, trying to tamp down his irritation. He had a dozen things he needed to do this afternoon, and playing tour guide to Little Miss Love-’Em-and-Leave-’Em-at-the-Altar wasn’t one of them. How had he managed to get roped into this, anyway?
He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, shaking his head in disgust. He knew darn good and well how it had happened; he’d lassoed himself with his own damn lariat. He didn’t know why the thought of Butch making time with Josie had made him see red, but it looked like he was going to spend the rest of the day paying for it. He’d already wasted the better part of an hour lining out the particulars of a fool’s errand for the ranch hand to perform.
Might as well get on with it, he thought glumly, swinging his long legs out of the truck. The sooner he got this tour started, the sooner he could get it over with.
A heavy wool rug muffled the sound of his boots on the hardwood floor as he entered the main hall. It was a cavernous room with log walls, enormous paned windows and a high, beamed ceiling, a room where everything was larger than life and oversize. Its masculine dimensions and furnishings were in stark contrast to the lone, slender figure occupying it, spotlighted by a sunbeam in front of the gigantic stone fireplace.
He’d know that mop of dark, tousled curls anywhere. And if he’d failed to recognize her hair, there was no way he could have mistaken those jeans-clad curves—not after the way they’d teased his imagination all morning.
“Ready?” He practically barked the word, and it came out sounding more like an order than a question.
Josie whipped around, and the blue of her eyes hit him like a two-by-four, knocking the breath out of his lungs. The fact she had such a disconcerting effect on him irritated him all the more.
He jerked his head in the direction of the door. “My truck’s parked outside. Thought we’d start the tour in the back pasture.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to start right here at the lodge.”
Oh, for the love of horse feathers! The last thing he wanted to do was answer a bunch of questions about this blasted building. He opened his mouth to tell her as much, then abruptly shut it.
She’s a paying customer, O’Dell, he reminded himself. And unless he wanted to hear more accusations about discrimination or false advertising, he’d better make sure she got her money’s worth.
“All right.” He reluctantly turned and swept his arm in a half circle. “This here’s the main room. Down that hall is a game room, the lodge manager’s office and two small meeting rooms that aren’t used much. You know where the dining room and the kitchen are. The guest rooms are in the attached wing, and there’s a heated pool on the terrace outside. There’s a small apartment for the manager attached to the lodge on the other side. That’s about it. Ready to move on?”
To his consternation, Josie burst out laughing. Luke knit his brow in a frown. “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head. “You lift the phrase whirlwind tour to new heights.”
“Well, you can look around the lodge anytime you want,” Luke said defensively. “You don’t need a guide for that.”
“I wasn’t asking about the floor plan.”
“Then what the heck were you asking about?”
Josie’s smile disarmed him. “For starters, I’m curious about the fireplace. Were the stones quarried locally?”
“I wasn’t here when the place was built,” he said curtly. “Can’t help you there.”
Consuela was right, Josie thought; Luke had no use at all for the lodge. He was positively chomping at the bit to get out of here as soon as possible.
For some perverse reason, she didn’t want to let him. “What about the Indian rugs?” she asked, gesturing to the beautiful wool creations scattered over the polished wood floor. “Were they made by local tribes?”
Luke lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know. Dad hired some high-falutin’ interior designer to handle all the furnishings.”
The answer disappointed her. She’d hoped to find some piece of Luke in the lodge, some clue to his personality, some glimpse of the man behind the scowl and Stetson.
She gestured to a large wall hanging above the fireplace. “Then I guess you know don’t anything about this beautiful quilt, either.”
Luke’s gaze shifted to the faded quilt, and she was surprised to see the hard, guarded edge in his eyes soften. “Well, now, the quilt’s a different story. My mother made that.”
Both the answer and the change in his expression startled her. She gazed up at the worn quilt, taking in the intricate design of shooting stars combined with bows and arrows. It was a beautiful piece of work, a patchwork masterpiece in blue and burgundy and deep forest green, with touches of cream and gold. “She must have been a wonderful seam-stress. I sew a little myself, but I’ve never had the nerve to tackle anything like this.” Josie glanced at Luke. The light in his eyes as he gazed at the quilt transformed him, making him seem less intimidating, more approachable. And more appealing than ever.
Stop that, she warned herself. She turned her attention back to the quilt. “It’s exquisite. I thought it was an antique.”
Luke met her gaze and gave a crooked grin, and an unwanted ripple of attraction raced through her. “It just looks like one because I nearly wore it out It pulled duty as a picnic blanket, a sleeping bag, a pup tent, a saddle blanket, a tepee—you name it.”
“It was yours,” Josie murmured, gazing back up at the beautiful handiwork. “Oh—I see your name stitched in the corner! And it looks like there’s something else embroidered around the edge, but I can’t read it from here. What does it say?”
“‘Shoot for the stars.’”
“How wonderful!” Josie stared at it, her heart swelling with emotion. What a wonderful message for a mother to pass on to her child, she thought. How confidence building, how positive, how inspirational…
How different from the subliminal message of dependence her own parents had given her. She swallowed around a sudden thickness in her throat. “It must have been very special to you.”
Luke gave a short nod. “I loved it to pieces—almost literally. It would be in shreds by now if Consuela hadn’t confiscated it when I was sixteen. She said it was too beautiful to ruin and it wouldn’t endure another round through the washer.”
“A lot of work went into making it,” Josie said, studying the unusual design. “A lot of love, too. I bet you could feel it when you wrapped it around you.”
Luke briefly met her gaze, and the way the hard brown of his eyes melted to a soft chocolate did something funny to her stomach. “When Mom gave it to me, she told me that if I ever lost my way, to look up, and the stars would get me back on track.”
Josie’s chest constricted with emotion. “She wanted you to follow your dreams.”
Luke gave a slight smile, making the fine lines at the corners of his eyes fan out like the tails of the shooting stars on the quilt. “You’
re a quicker study than I was. At the time, I thought she was talking about nighttime navigation.” He glanced back up at the wall hanging. “After Mom died, I used to lie under that quilt at night and pretend she’d just tucked me in—that she wasn’t really gone, that she was just across the hall, reading or sewing. It was the only way I could get to sleep for a couple of years.”
Josie’s eyes misted over, blurring her view of Luke’s face. She started to reach out a hand to him, then pulled back, not knowing what to do or say, not knowing if she should offer comfort, not knowing how it would be received if she did. She thought about her own mother, and couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up without her. Her mother might drive her crazy with her hovering and overprotectiveness, but her love and care and nurture had been the core of her childhood.
The lump in her throat made it hard to speak. “Your father must have loved the quilt, too, to have made it the focal point of the lodge.”
Luke’s eyes grew shuttered and his lips tightened into a taut line. “My mother made other quilts, all of them beautiful. It surprised the heck out of me to find this one hanging here—especially since Dad knew how I felt about the lodge.” He glanced at his watch and shifted his stance, suddenly uneasy. “It’s getting late. Ready to move on?”
She nodded and followed him from the room, moved by the glimpse into Luke’s painful childhood, touched by the fact that the hard-bitten cowboy had a secret, sentimental side.
Judging from the way he was charging toward his pickup now, he sure hadn’t intended to reveal it. He probably regretted giving her any personal information about himself at all, she thought as she scurried after him.
She wondered why knowing that should make her all the more intrigued by him. She wondered why the mention of his father had made him lock up faster than a shopkeeper at quitting time, and why he resented the lodge so much.
She wondered how she could get him to tell her all about it.
As he stalked toward his truck, Luke was wondering a few things, too—mainly just what in tarnation had gotten into him. He yanked open the door for Josie, closed it the moment she’d settled on the seat, then strode around the truck, rubbing his jaw as he went. He wasn’t the sort of man who went around spewing out personal information to every Tom, Dick and Harriet. Hell, he hardly ever talked about his mother, and he’d never told another living soul how he used to pretend she’d tucked him in. What the devil had possessed him to prattle on like that to Josie?