A wan smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I have to thank Barry Macon for introducing me to ranching life. He was a childhood friend. We attended the same middle school together. That was before my parents took me out of public school,” he added with a frown. “Anyway, Barry’s parents owned a small ranch outside of Houston and that’s where I first learned to ride. Barry’s dad raised Black Angus and he would let us boys help him round up the cows for doctoring and vaccinating. And in the summertime we’d work in the hayfield driving tractors. I loved every minute of those days.”
Enjoying the peek into his young life, she thoughtfully studied his face. “You spent a lot of time at Barry’s home?” she asked.
“As much as I could. Their ranch was a little boy’s paradise. Being around the animals, swimming in the creek, eating country meals at the Macons’ kitchen table.”
She heard more than just fond recollection in his voice. He was speaking with love. Something she’d not picked up on when he’d talked about his parents. It suddenly struck her that the Macon home had probably shaped his life in more ways than just fostering a love of ranching.
She said, “You say you met Barry while you were in public school. What happened to your friendship with Barry when you entered high school?”
Ridge’s face tilted upward to the bright blue sky and the Mexican eagle gliding in lazy circles in the hot southern wind. He eyed the bird with respect and a bit of envy. Even though the black and white eagle had to forage alone for his survival, he was free to live as he wanted and not as someone else wished.
He answered Nicolette’s question. “I didn’t attend public high school. My parents sent me to boarding school. Which, in the long run, was actually better for me. I loved public school, but at boarding school I didn’t have to live at home.”
She stared at him with utter dismay. “My word, Ridge, was your home life really that bad?”
Sighing, he tugged the brim of his hat a little farther down on his forehead and fixed his gaze on the trail ahead of them. “I guess I’ve given you the wrong impression about my growing-up years, Nicci. You’re probably thinking I’m giving you one of those poor-little-rich-kid stories.”
As her gaze traveled over his strong profile, she tried to imagine him as a vulnerable child and her heart ached to think he’d grown up without the emotional support he’d needed from his parents.
“Are you?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No. I’ll be the first to admit that I had things that kids like Barry never dreamed of having. We lived in a mansion, in the old, prominent part of the city. I had a closet full of well-tailored clothes, a new sports car every year, all the spending money I wanted, vacations to anyplace in the world, the best schools, medical care…you name it, I had it.” A tight grimace came over his face as he glanced at her. “I guess I should have felt guilty as hell for not being satisfied. Indeed, my parents thought I needed therapy because I wasn’t a happy kid. But I was happy—whenever I was away from them…when I was at Barry’s and his mother was feeding us fried eggs and biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Can you understand any of that?”
Nodding, Nicolette said, “Yes, I can understand. You liked things simple—uncomplicated. So do I. That’s why I moved back to the Sandbur after my divorce. This place keeps my feet on solid earth.” Reaching up, she patted her horse’s neck with a loving hand. “And where a person really feels at home is where he wants to be when he’s wounded or lonely or in trouble.”
He didn’t say anything for long moments and as they rode along Nicolette contented herself with listening to the jingle of the bridle bits, the creak of the saddles, and the melodious twitter of the ever-present mockingbirds. She realized Ridge had probably already told her more about his personal life than he’d intended and, though she would have liked to know more, she wasn’t going to push him.
After a few brief minutes passed in silence, he surprised her by picking up the conversation where she’d left off.
“I guess that’s why I wanted to spend so much time at Barry’s home. I never really felt at home with my parents. They’ve always been absorbed in themselves, and things weren’t any different when I was a child. During the times the two of them were together there was always friction and fighting. To say the least, the atmosphere in the house was cold and strained. It’s still that way.”
Nicci knew that feeling quite well. The house she’d shared with Bill had eventually turned into a battleground. Now that she’d had a chance to look back on that awful time in her life, she was glad there had been no children to be hurt by the fallout, the way Ridge had apparently been hurt.
“Are your parents still together?”
He grunted mockingly. “Oh, yes. If you can call living under the same roof as being together. They go their separate ways—if you understand my meaning. In both of their opinions, divorce would be too expensive.”
“I see,” she murmured, and not for the first time, she realized how blessed her childhood had been. Her parents had been madly in love and they’d encompassed their children in that love. The rich sweetness of their relationship had permeated the house and made it a warm haven for the whole family. She couldn’t imagine how horrifying it would have been to hear them throw vile words at each other. But apparently Ridge had seen and heard those words between his parents and he’d done the only thing a child could do under the circumstances. He’d sought out a place where he’d felt safe and at home, with his friend Barry.
He looked at her with skepticism. “Do you? I somehow doubt that you do. When I met your mother I could just tell she’d made things good for her children.”
Nicci nodded soberly. “You’re right. I grew up in a loving home. But later—” Her features tightened as the memory of those painful years she’d spent with Bill bullied their way into her thoughts. “Well, I don’t want to get into that. Just tell me the rest of your story. What happened to you and Barry after you went to boarding school?”
As he absently combed his fingers through Rebel’s mane, he said, “When my parents put me in boarding school, I was afraid I’d never get to be with my friend again. But thankfully, Barry’s folks realized it was important for us boys to be together and they scraped up enough money to send him to the same boarding school. To this day, I honestly don’t know how the Macons’ afforded the tuition. Borrowed and made self-sacrifices, I’m sure. Anyway, I had enough spending money for both me and my friend, so that helped him a little.”
Now she had to add generosity to his list of traits. Was the man a genuine golden boy or did she simply want to only see the good in him? While she’d been growing up, her parents had often encouraged her and her siblings to focus on the good in a person. She’d done that with Bill and had failed to see his glaring faults. She couldn’t let herself do that a second time.
“So what about college?” she asked. “Was Barry around then?”
Ridge nodded. “For four years. Then he graduated with a degree in agricultural business. He’s put that to use helping his father. And me—” He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, you know what I’m doing.”
Yes, he was doctoring people with sick hearts, she thought. But Nicolette now understood a little more about this man. He was not only trying to make a place for himself among his peers, he was seeking a home like Barry Macon had shared with him. And deep down, wasn’t she? She’d wanted a husband and children so badly. But her chance for that sort of home had been crushed and now the thought of reaching for her dream again was terrifying.
Shoving that bleak thought away, she said, “I think I’d like to meet this childhood friend of yours. He sounds like quite a guy.”
Chuckling, he turned a glinting eye on her. “Oh, no. Barry’s too much of a flirt to let him loose around you. I’d have to keep him on a leash.”
Nicolette laughed lightly to cover the blush that had seeped into her cheeks. “I can handle myself around flirts,” she said teasingly. “Is he married?”
“N
o. He swears I’ll be the first one to settle down and have kids.”
Trying to hide her curiosity, Nicci cast him a sidelong glance. “Will you?”
His warm brown gaze lingered on her face until her whole body grew hot and uncomfortable.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I need to find the right woman first.”
It was a struggle for Nicci not to urge her horse ahead of him and away from the suggestive look in his eyes and the innuendo in his voice. Flirting lightly with her was something she could handle, anything beyond that was too much for her broken heart to deal with.
“Well, I’m sure you will find her,” she said, trying to make her voice as casual as possible. “There are plenty of available women around here who want to get married. Any day the perfect one might walk into the clinic and right into your heart.”
Maybe that woman already had walked into his heart, Ridge thought, as he watched Nicci nudge the sorrel on ahead of him. Maybe she was the woman who could help him fill his little house with the sound of children and the warmth of love.
But she was a career woman with a job that would hardly allow her time to have a child, much less raise one, he reminded himself. Besides that, she was rich. She wouldn’t want to lower her standard of living just to be with him. And if that wasn’t enough of a wall between them, she was downright afraid to love again. So why was he here? Why wasn’t he out trying to find a woman more suitable to his needs?
Maybe because each time he looked at her, his gut tightened and his heart kicked into high gear. Right or wrong, she affected him in ways no woman ever had. And a suitable mate wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted love.
Chapter Six
Twenty minutes down the trail, Nicci and Ridge rode up a gently sloping hill that was veiled with spreading live oaks. The shade was deep and cool and the grass short enough to make sitting on the ground comfortable instead of scratchy.
Both of them tied their mounts to a nearby salt cedar, then carried the saddlebags full of lunch items over a shady spot.
The wind rustled the leaves above their heads and played them like musical chimes. Ridge sighed with pleasure as he looked around him. The slight elevation of the hill gave them a view of the western range, where more Brahmans grazed on vast grassland.
“This is nice. Really beautiful,” he murmured with appreciation.
Nicci’s gaze followed his. “Well, we could have kept riding until we reached the river. Some of the spots along its banks are very pretty. But we’d have to make a southern detour and it would take us quite a while to reach it.”
After making sure there weren’t any nearby mounds of fire ants, she dropped her canteen next to the huge tree trunk, then sat cross-legged on the ground.
“There’s no need to ride to the river. I like it here,” Ridge assured her.
He carefully placed the heavy saddlebags next to the canteen before he joined her on the ground. He leaned his back against the tree trunk and crossed his long legs out in front of him. “All you can hear is the wind in the trees, the birds singing and the locusts buzzing.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
She reached for the saddlebag full of food and Ridge quickly placed his hand over hers. The touch brought her questioning gaze up to his.
“Thank you, Nicci, for going to all this trouble today,” he said gently.
The air between them suddenly sizzled with under-currents. She glanced away from him and the open pleasure on his face. “It’s no trouble,” she said huskily.
Even though his hand was lying lightly over hers, it felt like a hot iron, making her acutely aware of his callused palm, the heat of his body and the small space separating the two of them.
“Remember, Nicci, I’m a doctor. I know how rare it is to have free time for anything. You probably had a thousand things you’d rather be doing than riding with me around your ranch.”
There were probably a thousand things she should be doing, Nicci told herself, other than sitting here with this man who made her heart thump just a bit too hard and fast. But if she was going to be totally honest with herself, she knew being here with him was the only thing she wanted to do.
“Don’t worry about it. I like to ride whenever I have the chance.” She carefully eased her hand from beneath his and quickly dug several sandwiches from the leather pouch. “Uh, looks like Cook has made roast beef, tuna or bologna. Which would you like to start with?”
He took off his hat and ran a hand through his flattened hair. Finger-combed strands fell across his forehead.
“Give me a beef,” he told her.
She handed him the sandwich and a small bag of chips, then took the same for herself. As she began to eat, she tried her best to ignore his nearness, but it was almost impossible to do when his thigh was only inches from hers and each time he made the slightest move his upper arm brushed her shoulder. Every nerve ending inside of her seemed to be awake and ready to jump at his slightest touch.
“When did the Sandbur first originate?” he asked after they’d both taken a few bites. “Did your family start the ranch?”
Glad to have something other than him to focus her thoughts on, Nicci nodded. “My great-great-grand-parents, Sylas and Amalia Ketchum, started this place sometime around 1900. When Sylas passed away in 1936 during the Depression, the ownership went to his son, Nate, and Nate’s wife, Sara. Once they died, the ranch was then handed on to my mother and her sister, Elizabeth.”
He looked impressed. “So your family has owned this land for more than a hundred years. That’s quite a legacy.”
Her family roots were deep in Texas soil, going back to when it was the Republic of Texas. Throughout the years, one generation of Ketchums had passed a legacy on to the next. It was a fact she was proud of and yet at times it saddened her to think she had no child to continue the tradition.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But there have been times when the Sandbur wasn’t always prosperous. During the Great Depression my grandfather sold some parts just to have enough money to hold the rest together. But later, Sara, my grandmother came into oil royalties and that pretty much saved things. Nate bought back the old property, and the Sandbur returned to its original size.”
He glanced at her as he popped a potato chip into his mouth. “Sounds like your family are fighters. What about your dad? I haven’t heard you mention him. Is he still living?”
With a wistful shake of her head, she said, “My father’s name was Paul. He was killed about ten years ago in a boating accident. At least, the police called it an accident. We’re not really sure what happened. He supposedly went overboard while fishing with some friends down on the gulf.”
Regret filled his eyes. “That’s too bad, Nicci. You and your family must have been crushed. Was he a cattleman, too?”
Thoughts of her loving father still had the power to sadden her, and she looked down at her half-eaten sandwich and willed away the lump in her throat. “He knew his way around a ranch and helped with the cattle when he was needed, but he made his own mark working as an engineer for an oil company in San Antonio. I miss him terribly. He was a wonderful father.”
“I’m sure,” he murmured gently, then posed the question, “I guess your mother never remarried?”
Sighing, Nicci tried to swallow down another bite of sandwich. The ball of bread and meat seemed to scratch its way to her stomach. “No. She’s interested. But I guess Daddy is a hard act to follow. She’s very particular about men.”
A dimple came and went in one of his cheeks. “You mean, sort of like her daughter?”
Even though she realized he was mostly teasing, her mouth popped open. She’d never thought of herself in that light and the revelation surprised her.
“I’m not particular about men,” she answered after a moment. “I just mainly avoid them.”
He balled up the plastic wrap that had covered his sandwich and shoved it into an empty section of the saddlebag.
“You’re not avoiding me,�
�� he pointed out.
There was no need for him to remind her that he was a man, Nicci thought helplessly. There hadn’t been a second that ticked by since he’d arrived on the ranch when she’d forgotten his potent presence. And now that the two of them were alone, everything about him seemed magnified.
Glancing away from his tempting face, she said, “I—you’re here as a friend. That’s all.”
“Hmm. Funny, but I don’t feel exactly like a…friend.”
The low purring sound of his voice was a warning, and Nicci turned her head just in time to see his upper body leaning toward hers.
“I invited you out here to see the ranch,” she quickly reminded him. “Nothing more.”
As Nicci watched a slow smile lift the corners of his lips, she felt the air drain from her lungs, her heart leap into a fast jig. She’d never been this close to a man like him, who oozed charm and sexuality, and her senses were quickly turning traitor.
“And I came here to see the ranch because it’s your home,” he admitted. “Nothing more.”
She forced herself to breathe and tried to resist the invisible pull of his body. “If you think I’m—”
He cut her off by lifting his hand to her cheek. His eyes narrowed sensually as he moved the tips of his fingers over her soft skin. “Right now I think you’re the most irresistible woman I’ve ever met.”
Her head managed to move slightly to one side and then the other. “Not hardly.” She gestured down to her jeans and boots. “Not looking like this.”
His fingers stopped their travels across her cheek to cup the side of her face. “Especially like this, Nicci.”
A yearning, soft and sweet, billowed up in her and clouded her senses. Her gray eyes connected with his brown ones, and the tender light she saw there tugged on her heart and, just for a moment, made it forget all the scars and walls surrounding it.
The Best Catch in Texas Page 8