The Reluctant Rancher

by Patricia Mason

  Mary couldn’t help but ask. “The true spirit?”

  Joseph looked her straight in the eye, the faded green reminding her so much of Luke’s. “It all means nothing – the land, the wealth, the success – unless you have someone to share it with.”

  “I’m sure Luke will get married again when the time is right.”

  Mary’s heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs at the thought of Luke marrying. At the thought of Luke marrying her.

  That brought her up short. When had her feelings changed from a slight crush to a full blown obsession? When you saw just how sexy and appealing he was up close and personal the little voice inside her taunted.

  For her own sanity she decided to change the subject. “Where are Luke’s parents now? Does he have any brothers and sisters who could use these lovely things?” Her fingers caressed the smooth surface of the dresser.

  “Luke is an only child. His parents didn’t have the most ideal marriage. They married too young. By the time he turned eighteen my son, Wayne, had decided he didn’t want to be a rancher and headed off to college where he met Luke’s mother, Madeline. They were the perfect pair, both selfish to the bone. Ten months later they had Luke. Six months after that, Wayne knocked on our door saying they couldn’t handle raising a child. Emma and I filed for custody and brought Luke up as our own.” Joseph shook his head sadly, lost in his memories.

  “Where are Luke’s parents now?” No one, not even the most die-hard gossips in town, had ever mentioned the missing Tanners.

  Joseph fingered the warm wood of the cradle. “They’re both dead. They died in a car crash soon after Luke turned three. They had moved to the city and were living the high life on the trust fund I’d set up for Wayne when he was a child.”

  Mary didn’t know what to say and Joseph had apparently decided he’d said enough. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Luke rode hard and fast to the south pasture trying to make up for lost time. He should have been out on the range an hour ago. With a muttered expletive, he jammed his hat down tight as the wind threatened to tear it off.

  What had possessed him to touch her? Just five minutes in Mary’s presence and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Who was he trying to kid? Just waiting for her to come downstairs had made anticipation build like a child on Christmas morning.

  He’d thought the slow, sensual heat he’d felt when she’d first appeared on his front doorstep had been a fluke, but apparently it had merely disguised a raging brushfire. When he touched her, his whole body responded. Heaven knew he hadn’t felt any type of sexual desire for a woman in more than two years. Not even with the young and forward groupies who followed the rodeo circuit and hung out at the stockyard sales. Like the ones in Newport who had made it perfectly clear they would be willing to help him pass the dark lonely nights. He hadn’t joined up with any of the women, though. Instead he’d spent his free time holed up in his hotel room, watching re-runs of Gunsmoke and thinking of Mary. Something he had to stop doing. And soon.

  He reined Lucifer in and let his eyes take in his surroundings. He’d spent the whole of his thirty-eight years making the Circle T the most successful cattle operation around, building upon what his great-grandfather and grandfather had started. A few lucky breaks and some shrewd investments on Wall Street had ensured the future of the ranch well into the next millennium.

  Tanner land. Land passed down from generation to generation. The land was his life. The land never left you, never betrayed you. It was the one constant, never changing fact of life a man could depend on. Something even the most cynical and barren of heart could believe in. It gave you everything and asked nothing in return.

  “Hello, boss.” His foreman, a grizzled old cowhand, greeted him as he swung gracefully from his horse.

  The closed expression on Luke’s face did not daunt the older man. He had been foreman on the Circle T for too many years. First for Joseph and now Luke. Very little escaped the tall, silent man.

  “Good morning, Hawk. Anything new I should be aware of?”

  “We’ve got some cattle lost in the lower pastures according to the new guy, Johnson. I thought I’d send a couple of men out to round them up while we finish up here.

  Luke knelt near a bundle of posts that needed to be separated. The hands spent the cold winter days repairing the broken down fences in preparation of the spring roundup which was almost upon them. “How are the new guys doing?”

  “Okay, I guess.” Hawk’s bronze features twisted into a frown. ”One of ‘em comes with good recommendations from the Bar M. He’s a good family man who’s had a run of bad luck. But the other guy, Johnson, I’m not so sure about. Some of the men have complained that he has a loud mouth and a mean temper.”

  Luke immediately thought of another sassy individual who had invaded his life but quickly pulled his wayward thoughts from Mary and concentrated on his foreman’s report.

  “We’re short-handed so I guess we can’t be too choosy,” Hawk continued. “Dang it, I wish those other fellers hadn’t quit.” He slapped his sweat stained hat against his thigh, the large gray Stetson showing other marks of his frequent abuse.

  Luke shrugged. “It happens, Hawk. The bright lights, the big city. It’s hard to keep the men entertained way out here.” He freed the posts with one final clip of the wire cutters and rose to his feet. He kept his voice low as he warned his foreman. “Keep an eye on the guy though. I don’t want any surprises. And I’ll see about the strays.”

  He hoisted himself back into the saddle and rode in the direction Hawk had mentioned. Rounding up strays was a tiresome, time-consuming job; one he usually didn’t volunteer for. But today he had a lot of serious thinking to do. For the first time in over two years, he felt like a man again. A man with needs and desires. Trouble was, he didn’t know what to do about it.

  * * * * *

  Several hours later, Luke halted in mid-stride upon entering the kitchen. The room qualified as a disaster area. Cans and boxes of food littered every available surface and pots and pans overflowed from the open cabinet doors. But what stopped him in his tracks was the picture of Mary.

  Even though no one, kind or otherwise, could call Mary a small woman, she was attractive. A generous woman, he could almost hear his grandfather say, with enough curves and valleys to keep a man warm through a cold Wyoming winter. And he definitely had no problem with Mary’s size. He had dated all types of women – tall women, short women, small women, large women. In the dark they were all the same, a warm body and a pair of arms to hold you until the morning light. Unfortunately, none of them could completely chase away the loneliness.

  He stood for several more minutes, watching as she stretched to reach the top shelf of the high oak cabinets. As she worked, she sang along with the country western tune on the radio, her soft voice filled the room. Voluptuous hips swayed to the rhythm of the music, drawing Luke’s eyes. The baggy sweats of that morning had been replaced with mid-thigh cotton shorts. A long, oversized t-shirt slipped from one shoulder to reveal a large expanse of creamy skin. A turquoise clip held her long flowing hair away from her face. She looked young and carefree, sexy enough to entice any man.

  For just a moment his breathing increased and he forgot why he had returned to the house. A sharp stab of pain in his forearm quickly reminded him.

  He must have made some small sound alerting her to his presence for suddenly she swung around. Immediately her eyes spied the blood soaked sleeve of his shirt and she flew to his side in a flash. “Oh, Luke,” she exclaimed. “What happened?”

  “What the hell does it look like? And just what do you think you’re doing?” Luke demanded. With his good arm, he gestured at the mess around him.

  “I’m cleaning the house. Part of our bargain if you remember correctly,” she snapped back. “Now hold still and let me take a look at your arm.”

  Mary examined his wound, making soft purring noises in th
e back of her throat. It pulled at Luke’s heart, this show of concern. It disturbed him, physically and mentally, that she could turn him inside out with just a touch.

  He realized he’d poured himself into the ranch way too long and figured he needed to get back into the swing of things, start socializing, and find himself a woman who could fulfill his needs without any strings attached. When women found out just how much money stood behind the Tanner name it was easy, too easy, to establish a mutually satisfying relationship. But at the end of their time together, no hearts were broken, no dreams of white knights shattered. He had gotten what he wanted and needed. A couple of hours where the loneliness didn’t eat away at his soul like a cancer. Only with his ex-wife had he allowed the hot flush of desire to evolve into something more. And look where that had gotten him.

  “I can take care of it myself. First aid is a necessary fact of life on a ranch, Ms. Carter.” He removed his arm from her soft touch. Infection presented a serious risk when you worked with animals and Luke insisted that even the slightest injury be taken seriously. Even his own. A rancher couldn’t afford to be laid up for even one day.

  It had given him an excuse to come back to the house. He could just as easily had the bunkhouse cook, Rooster, patch him up. The man had done it many times before. Reluctantly Luke admitted to himself that he’d wanted to see Mary again. He enjoyed her quick wit, even the stinging insults she threw his way. But he also knew nothing could come of his fledging feelings. Nothing.

  Abruptly he stepped around her and headed to his bedroom. He could feel Mary watching him as he walked away and knew she would be worrying her bottom lip with her pearly white teeth in concern. She’d done it that first night on the ranch when she’d debated picking up her brief case and walking away. Why he noticed such things, he didn’t understand. Yet he found himself wanting to soothe her tortured lips with his own.

  He looked down at his blood soaked sleeve and realized he’d refused her help a little too quickly. It was going to hurt like the devil to remove his shirt. And even if his male pride allowed him to ask, after the brusque way he left, he doubted she’d be too willing to assist him now.

  “Come into the bathroom.” Mary burst through the door without knocking and Luke allowed himself a fleeting smile as he followed her into his bathroom. Apparently her compassionate heart had gotten the better of her temper.

  As soon as he entered the room, he knew he’d made a grave error. He became aware of his size as he towered over her. She pulled his arm under a warm stream of water, forcing his hard frame against her soft curves and desire flowed through him like a molten river of lava. He groaned silently as his body instinctively responded to the feel of this woman.

  “What happened? It looks like you had a fist fight with a briar thicket and lost.”

  “I did,” Luke said through gritted teeth as she worked the fabric from the torn skin. “An ungrateful mamma threw me into a thorn bush when I tried to rescue her precious baby.”

  Mary looked up at him, grimacing in sympathy. “I know this must hurt. I’ll try to be as gentle as possible.”

  To distract himself from the pain and the feel of her lush body, he released the barrette holding her hair, and ran the silken strands through his fingers. “You have beautiful hair,” he murmured.

  “As opposed to the rest of me?” she quipped. He heard her breath catch in the back of her throat as her hair caught on the pad of his work roughened palm. It had been so long since he’d touched a woman. Felt the softness.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “And you know it.”

  “I do?” Her voice held a note of skepticism.

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “Can’t you take a damn compliment like a normal woman?”

  Mary’s shrug caused the blouse to slide further off her shoulder to reveal the satin strap of a peach colored bra. “Not many people, especially men, pay me compliments.”

  “Well, they should. You’re a fine looking woman.” His tone was solemn but he sensed she still didn’t believe him. Before he could say more, she stepped back to inspect her handy work.

  “There. I think that does it.

  Luke removed his soiled shirt and immediately regretted the action as soon as he saw the bright red flush that stained Mary’s cheeks. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her.

  “I’ll soak that later.” With jerky movements he threw the shirt in the claw-footed bathtub. He started to leave but she stopped him.

  “Wait. I need to clean the cuts.” He watched as she removed the first aid items from the medicine cabinet.

  “This is going to sting,” she cautioned, holding his arm over the sink once again. With a brief, sympathetic glance at his face, she poured antiseptic over the open cuts.

  “Hell, woman! Are you trying to kill me?” He jerked his arm away, grabbing a clean towel from the shelf. Still swearing, he left the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He removed the towel and took a good look at his injuries for the first time. Now cleaned, some of the cuts looked downright nasty and a few probably needed stitches.

  “Give me those.” He reached for the bandages Mary held in her hands. She’d followed him out, standing before him with a militant look in her gray eyes.

  “I’m the nurse.” She batted away his hands and knelt between his legs. “These probably need stitches, you know.”

  His frowned at her suggestion, even though he’d thought the same thing himself. Her tone made him feel like a scolded child.

  “But then, you’re as bad as your grandfather. It would take a two foot gore hole from a bull to get either of you to go to the doctor.”

  He smiled, watching her bent head. With very little effort, he could see her in this room, in his bed, in the dark of the night, the moonlight turning her hair the color of deep, pure silver. This time the desire he felt cut sharp and swift, like the blade of a knife. He placed the towel strategically over the front of his jeans.

  With a determination borne of years of experience, he clamped down hard on such thoughts. “What has my grandfather been up to now?”

  “His blood pressure is up. Dr. McAllister is concerned.”

  “What?” Luke growled. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

  Mary finished and rose to her feet. “He didn’t want you to worry.”

  Luke strode across the room, away from the temptation of Mary. Retrieving a clean shirt from a chest of drawers, he fumbled to button it.

  “Here, let me help.” Her smaller hands moved his larger, clumsy ones aside.

  “Is it serious?” He breathed in the clean, dewy scent of her skin.

  “What?” She started as if she had been lost deep in thought. But he knew that couldn’t be the case. Mary certainly wasn’t standing in his room mooning over the likes of him. He was no woman’s gift from God. Outside of his looks, which would never win him a beauty contest, he’d grown too rough, too set in his ways to cause a woman’s heart to pound with desire. He knew his value to women and it came through his wallet, not his flesh.

  “Grandpa. Is his blood pressure a problem?”

  Mary shook her head. “Not right now. But it could be. I think he needs to see the doctor before his next scheduled checkup.”

  “Set up a time, and I’ll take you.” Against his will, he lifted his hand, following the flow of her hair across the crown of her head, the nape of her neck and down the curve of her spine. “You should wear it down more often. It suits you.”

  “Thank you.” This time she smiled at his compliment and he allowed himself his own small grin. Apparently he’d gotten through her stubborn skin after all.

  His finger traced the line of her jaw. “You’re welcome. I’m fine now, Mary. Thanks for the help.”

  He pulled away and fastened his shirt. A man could only stand so much torment. And being next to Mary was the sweetest kind of torment known to man.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “She a mighty fine figure of a woman, boss.” Hawk pointed to Mary as she w
alked out of the bunkhouse kitchen almost a week later. Luke lifted his head from unsaddling Lucifer and gave the other man a quelling look. Hadn’t he said pretty much the same words to Mary the day she’d bandaged his arm and received a taunted barb in return for his trouble? He wondered how she would react to his crusty foreman saying them now. Probably smile and give the old coot a kiss.

  Of course his withering look didn’t phase Hawk. The other man just smiled and continued to talk. “And it appears I’m not the only one around who thinks so.”

  Mary had stopped at the corral talking to the new man, Luther Johnson.

  “What’s Johnson doing here?” Luke demanded, his tone hard and flat. He tightened the cinch, uncomfortable with the stab of jealousy he felt.

  Hawk’s knowing gaze missed little as he answered. “All the hands are in the house pasture. We got a late start this morning, remember?”

  “From now on keep the men away from the house. I don’t pay them to socialize. I pay them to work.” He walked out of the barn and headed for the corral. By the time he reached the couple, that stab of jealousy became a raw, open wound. “Get going, Johnson. The other men are ready to leave.”

  “So they are boss.” The man straightened, insolence palpable in each movement of his body as he pushed back the brim of his hat. It took every ounce of Luke’s iron control not to flatten the man where he stood. He stared at Mary like a thirsty man looking at a long, cool drink of water.

  “See you later, honey.” The cowboy smiled, revealing slightly crooked teeth as his gaze raked over Mary one last time.

  Luke saw the shudder that shook Mary’s frame as the man walked away and cursed. “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing much, just welcoming me to the ranch.”

  Luke couldn’t let it go, a surge of fierce protectiveness rushing through him. He’d seen men like Johnson all his life, men who flirted with everything on two legs. He knew a pretty face and a few sweet words could turn any woman’s head. Even Mary’s. And he didn’t like that thought. Not one bit.