The Reluctant Rancher

by Patricia Mason

  Mary shook her head. “There’s nothing to tell. We ate a little and danced a little.”

  The other woman became serious. “Did you talk any?”

  “Some, but Luke isn’t much of a talker.”

  It was Jennifer’s turn to shake her head. “Darling, I know you don’t want to hear this, but…”

  “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it. You got lucky, Jenny. Mark is a wonderful man who loves you to distraction.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just don’t want you rushing into anything, doing something you’ll regret later.” Her eyes filled with sympathy and Mary knew her friend had guessed her feelings for Luke without being told. And her intentions should the opportunity ever arise. Remembering the feel of him beneath her hand had her insides clenching.

  “I’m never going to have what you have. I’ve accepted that about myself and my life. But if I can have a night with this man holding me close, I’ll take it. Happily-ever-after never happens for women like me.” She sighed in regret. “I’m staying until Joseph’s cast comes off and then I’ll have my loan and forget all about Luke Tanner.”

  They shared a sad smile and left the restroom, returning to the dance.

  When Mary and Jennifer returned to the party, they discovered Luke had received a urgent call from the ranch informing him that one of his pregnant mares might be in trouble. He’d hitched a ride and left the truck for Joseph and Mary. They stayed until the early hours of the morning but for Mary, the night had lost its fairy tale feeling.

  Suddenly she felt just like Cinderella had after the ball – pumpkin coach, rats and all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A few days later, Luke shifted restlessly in his saddle and tried to find a comfortable position on the cold wet leather. He’d given up any hope of staying dry in the deluge now falling. He cursed each cold drop of rain that found its way beneath his weatherproof poncho. For hours he had ridden through the unrelenting downfall and there seemed to be no relief in sight.

  Another cow escaped from the herd and he wheeled Lucifer around to catch the errant animal. Tired and damp, he just wanted to go the hell home. He and his men had been up since before dawn moving cattle across the water logged plains.

  The cattle had to be rounded up and moved to the mountain pastures pronto. He didn’t care what the weatherman said, the town of Fiddler Creek, as well as his ranch, was in for a good old-fashioned flooding.

  He urged his stallion forward and headed for the mountains. More than one cow had already strayed through the boundary fence he had repaired earlier that week. Or thought he had repaired. He winced. His mind had been more on Mary than the job at hand. She had him so confused, he was behaving like some greenhorn kid.

  Luke cursed roundly as the clouds above him broke open again drenching him all the way through in spite of his waterproof poncho. It was nothing more than he deserved he thought as he tugged the collar of his slicker up around his neck. Why shouldn’t the fates decree their displeasure with him?

  The past few weeks had been both heaven and hell. Every time he looked at Mary his heart thudded and a little more of his soul thawed. He wanted this woman with a blinding need that increased with each passing day. The torture of wanting her and not being able to have all of her sweetness drove him mad.

  But something, some deep buried sense of honor kept him from taking her. He knew that more than one woman had been swept away by passion, only to regret the hot savage flames once they cooled. The essence of goodness, she represented everything his life lacked. More, she looked at him as though she would stay with him forever if he asked.

  And during these last few weeks, Luke realized he no longer wanted a flash in the pan romance. He wanted a deep, lasting relationship like the one his great-grandparents had shared and what he had seen between Joseph and Emma.

  At the dance he’d almost went down on one knee and asked Mary to run off to Vegas and marry him that very night. But then he’d overheard her conversation with Jennifer. She was leaving as soon as she got the loan.

  Just like his ex-wife, she’d be gone as soon as the ink dried on the check. He guessed he should be grateful that she had spared him the bedroom scene, even though heaven knew he’d have no problem consummating his relationship with Mary. Damn it to hell, he wanted the woman badly. His hands tightened into fists, jerking the reins. The horse danced sideways.

  “Sorry boy.” He patted Lucifer’s neck in apology. He raised his face to the sky and allowed the rain to pour over his face as he breathed in the clean, rain-soaked air. Maybe he could somehow purge his soul and ease the constant ache in his heart.

  He hunched his shoulders. He was cold, wet and very, very angry. None of which would get the job done. He urged his mount forward and forced thoughts of Mary from his mind. “Come on, Lucifer, we’ve got a lot more to do today.”

  * * * * *

  Mary removed the last towel from the dryer and added it to the stack on top of the machine. She gathered them in her arms and walked into the adjoining kitchen. A jagged streak of lightening lit the darkened sky and she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone pounded on the back door at the same time. She turned, the warm towels held to her chest like a shield.

  “Hawk.” She sagged with relief and opened the screen to let the foreman inside. “You scared me half to death. And this storm is horrible.”

  The tall, man remained standing just inside the door. He didn’t even help himself to one of the fresh-from-the oven cookies sitting on the counter. Almost from the very first day of her arrival, Mary had taken to supplementing Rooster’s less than imaginative fare with cakes, pies and cookies. She had earned the friendship and admiration of every cowboy on the ranch. Especially Hawk.

  But today the man stood silently, dripping a puddle of water on the shiny tile floor and twisting the brim of his hat with nervous fingers.

  “What’s wrong?” She tightened her hold on the towels. “Oh, my God, it’s Joseph. Something’s happened to Joseph.” She hadn’t seen the older man since early in the morning when he’d gone to help the boys in the barn. Mary would never forgive herself if something had happened to the older gentlemen. Not only had Luke trusted her to look after him, but Joseph himself had managed to earn an important place in her heart.

  “No, ma’am,” Hawk reassured her. “Joseph is fine. He’s in the barn with Naomi, the soon-to-be mama.” Another of Circle T’s prize mares was about to give birth to Lucifer’s offspring. Luke had shared with her his hope that the mare’s gentle breeding would be a calming factor in stallion’s otherwise fiery prodigy.

  “Then what?” She fought the strong sense of anxiety that overtook her and put the towels aside.

  “It’s Luke, Miss Mary. Lucifer just rode in without him.”

  She clutched the back of the kitchen chair, her knuckles whitened with the strength of her grip. “What do you think happened?” She forced the words past a suddenly tight throat.

  “Well, ma’am.” Hawk hesitated and she wanted to grab him by the shirt and yank the words from his mouth. Instead she willed herself to wait.

  “I don’t think he’ll be hurt bad, nothing ‘cept maybe his pride. Lucifer probably just got spooked by this lightening and threw him. He has a tendency to do that during a storm. He’s a dang ornery critter.”

  Mary wanted to scream at him to stop giving her a rundown on the horse’s attitude. Luke could be out there somewhere badly injured, despite what Hawk said. “Shouldn’t someone be out looking for him?”

  “That’s why I came up to the house.” The battered hat began another round through nervous fingers.

  “Yes?” She lost what little patience she’d managed to maintain.

  “Well, you see, Luke ordered all of the men to roundup strays up around Fiddler Range. It’d take a good hour to get a message to ‘em. There’s no phone reception out there. And, well, I can’t leave Naomi while she’s so close to delivering, it being a breech. Joseph can’t do it alone, on accou
nt of his arm and all. Luke would skin me alive if I let something happen to that foal.”

  Mary caught his drift and so did not like where this was headed. ”You want me to go look for Luke? I can’t ride in this storm, Hawk. I barely know how.”

  “Now, Mary.” He spoke with the gentle patience he'd use to speak to a frightened horse. “You’ve been practicing nearly every day this month.” After that very first lesson, Luke had ordered Hawk to be her instructor. “And you’ve got a fine seat. If I didn’t think you’d do just fine, I’d never ask you to go. Luke would grind me into a bloody pulp if I let anything happen to you.”

  As he spoke, lightening crackled again. The sky opened up and torrents of rain spilled to the ground. The already saturated soil became a river of mud. Seconds later thunder boomed. The sound vibrated throughout the house and rattled the windows. Mary hated storms. As a child she’d hidden in her room, blinds drawn, until they passed.

  But what if Luke was injured? What if he was hurt, somewhere out in the open, unprotected against the storm’s fury? She stopped. She mustn’t allow herself to think such thoughts. She had to keep a clear, calm head and think rationally. “You’re right, Hawk. I need to go. Saddle Lady Jane for me. I’ll change and get the first aid kit and then be right out.”

  Hawk strode out of the door before she’d even finished speaking.

  In her room, Mary quickly donned thick socks, jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Pulling her hair atop her head, she secured the thick mass into a ponytail and slipped on her boots. Her movements quick and efficient, she gathered the first aid kit from Luke’s bathroom. She tore out of the house like the hounds of hell nipped at her heels.

  The entire process, clothes changed and supplies gathered, took less than five minutes, but she still felt as though she moved in slow motion. In the barn, she hugged Joseph goodbye.

  He held the reins for several seconds, his wrinkled brow puckered in concentration. “Are you sure you want to go, Mary? That grandson of mine can take care of himself.”

  She was touched by the older man’s show of concern. “I’ll be fine, Joseph. And I’ll find Luke.”

  “I know you will, Mary. And don’t try to make it back until this storm passes. Go to the old line shack and hole up. There’s a radio there and Luke can call the barn so we’ll know you’re alright.”

  “Will do.” She guided the horse from the barn and into the slashing rain. Digging in her heels, she spurred the sturdy animal into a bone-rattling run.

  * * * * *

  Mary rode away from the storm and by the time she reached her destination the rain had settled into a light drizzle. Hawk had given her clear directions to where Luke was supposed to be working. From the top of a small knoll, she spotted him. The flood-tide of relief she felt left her weak. For several seconds, she could only stare. He moved with his usual loose limbed gait over the rough terrain. He reminded her of Lucifer, big and muscled, arrogant and dangerous. Oh, so dangerous to the inexperienced rider. Or the inexperienced woman.

  Mary urged the red sorrel forward. She knew Luke would not be in a good mood.

  And she was right.

  “What in the hell are you doing out here?”

  Tiny drops of water dripped from the ends of his hair jutting from beneath his Stetson. He’d removed his shirt, which revealed a thickly grown layer of hair over a smooth layer of silk. The muscles of his upper body were stunningly defined, his shoulders broad and strong, made to lean upon. His stomach didn’t have the washboard smoothness of a male model. His muscles came from the hard physical work of running a ranch, not the results of hours spent in the gym. A hard working man who needed good, solid food to see him through the day. His healthy lifestyle showed on his fame.

  As she stared, a rivulet of water followed the natural contours of his body until it disappeared into the waistband of his jeans, drawing Mary’s eyes with it. His sodden jeans clung to his male curves. Breathless, she dragged her eyes back to his face, which matched the thunderclouds overhead.

  “I came to rescue you.” She tried her best to keep her voice even, though laughter swelled in her chest. She could understand how he might feel a little out of sorts.

  “Your horse came back without you. We thought you might be hurt,” she went on to explain when he just stood there, not saying a word.

  Luke snorted, his hands on his hips in an aggressive stance. “Lady, nobody should have come out in a storm like this. And especially not a greenhorn like you. There’s liable to be flash floods. If you were one of my hands, I’d fire your ass for pulling a stunt like this.” He glared at her, his brows drawn together in a fierce scowl.

  She looked down at him from her perch high atop her horse. “Well, I’m not one of your hands and you can’t fire me. We have deal, remember? But if you stand there much longer, I might just leave your ass out here in the rain, since you seem to like it so much.”

  Her words seemed to deflate his anger a little. He removed his hat and raked his fingers through his sodden hair. “Damn it, Mary, you shouldn’t have come.”

  He swung himself into the saddle behind her and the laughter died in the back of her throat at the feel of his heavily muscled chest at her back. Suddenly Mary felt as out of sorts as Luke looked.

  “Somebody had to,” she pointed out, more than a little breathless from his close proximity. Mary knew having to accept her help irritated the hell out of him.

  “This is no job for a woman. I hired you to look after Joseph, not play cowhand. Why didn’t Hawk come if all of you were so all fired worried?”

  “Naomi’s in labor. He thought there’d be hell to pay if he left.” Mary struggled to suppress her gasp of pleasure as his arms closed around her. Despite his soaking, he was warm and rock solid. So wonderfully alive.

  “He was right,” Luke said, and she could see he admitted it grudgingly. “That animal is going to be Lucifer’s finest offspring yet. A real champion.”

  “What happened to your rain gear?” She tried to turn in the saddle but the tightening of his arms stopped her. He buried his cold face against the side of her neck. A moment passed before he whispered.

  “I lost it.”

  “How did you lose a slicker – and a shirt?”

  “Believe me, honey, it wasn’t easy.” He took the reins of the red sorrel and clicked his tongue. The horse surged forward. In minutes, they reached the top of another knoll and Mary had her answer.

  “He stole them.” Luke pointed to a small white and red calf chewing on a yellow raincoat that matched the one she wore.

  Mary laughed.

  “You find that funny?” Luke bit out sarcastically.

  “Yes, yes, I do,” Mary didn’t want to reveal the true source of her happiness. “But I still don’t understand how he got them.”

  “In case you missed it, there’s a mud hole the size of the Grand Canyon down there. I wasn’t about to spend the whole day wet and muddy after I rescued the ungrateful thing, so I took them off.”

  “And he stole them?”

  “Yeah, he stole them.” Luke’s dark gaze dared her to say more.

  “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Luke, but I don’t see your shirt anywhere.” This time Mary had the good sense to smother her laughter.

  “What? That’s my lucky poker shirt!”

  “Maybe you can get it later,” she suggested.

  “We’ll find it now.” Luke urged the horse down the steep incline.

  “Wait,” she protested. “We need to get you someplace warm and dry, not worry about a shirt. A shirt can be replaced, but you can’t.”

  “Hell,” he muttered. ”You’re half frozen.”

  Mary didn’t have the heart to tell him she felt as snug as a bug in a rug because his big body provided more warmth than any heating stove ever had. The shiver stemmed from something much more fundamental than rain and wind.

  “Did you tell Joseph we’d come straight back?” Luke shifted in the saddle.

  “He told m
e to head to the line shack if the storm got too bad. He said it had a shortwave.” Mary grasped the saddle horn, desperate to keep herself away from the press of his hard body. Away from temptation.

  “That’s a smart man, my grandfather,” Luke murmured, his breath a warm breeze across her ear.

  A lump of anticipation settled in the pit of Mary’s stomach as he headed north. Away from civilization. Away from everything and everyone. She shivered again and savored the warmth of his breath on her neck. It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy him for just a moment, would it? No one said anything had to happen. They’d go to the line shack, spend an hour or so waiting out the storm and be back to the ranch before sundown. She leaned into his embrace and his arms pressed her, if possible, even closer.

  Both were instantly, sizzling-ly aware that only a few wet layers of cloth stood between them. Between them and heaven.

  He shifted the reins into one hand while the other tilted her face up to his. “You are so damn beautiful.”

  Luke slipped his hand inside her yellow slicker and Mary shuddered as he found her swollen nipple. He plucked the large, swollen nub with his calloused fingers, playing it like a fine musical instrument.

  “I want you Mary. God how I want you.” He moved his hand, splaying his fingers against the curve of her generous hips. Slowly, torturously, he lowered his hand, skimming past the snap of her jeans to briefly touch the part of her that wanted him most. He shifted their weight and pressed her backside against his aching need. His mouth closed over hers and his tongue nudged her lips apart. Mary was lost. She didn’t stop him as he kissed her with savage need. She couldn’t. She wanted Luke Tanner more than she wanted to draw her next breath. She opened her mouth, accepting without question his complete and total control. She matched him stroke for stroke, their mating tongues a sweet prelude to what they both knew was to come.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nothing more than a tumbled down one-room shed, the line shack sat at an odd angle, the whitewashed planks leaning in the direction of the blowing wind. Practically built into the side of the mountain, it had withstood years of abusive weather.