by Linda Wisdom
She mulled over his words. That makes sense."
She gazed toward the truck's passenger door. "This is all so new to me that I'm not sure how to act."
"Yeah, we figured that." He couldn't keep his eyes off her white silk skirt and soft aqua blouse that matched her eyes.
Letitia followed the direction of his eyes. “I guess
I'm a bit overdressed." She wrinkled her nose. "I didn't think the airport here would be, well, like this," She looked around at the expanse of dirt and tall weeds decorating the exterior of the World War II vintage Quonset hut set squarely in the middle. "Or that the pilot of the plane would look like someone out of a horror film. And believe me, if anyone knows about horror, it's me ..." Her words trailed off while she stared at her foreman's back as he headed back to the building.
"What the hell is in this thing?" Tyler roared a few minutes later, walking out of the Quonset holding the animal carrier as far from his body as his arm could reach while the occupant yowled shrilly enough to break glass.
"Oh, my baby!" Letitia headed straight for the carrier. "Sweetheart, I know you're upset, but it wouldn't be a good idea to let you out now," she crooned through the wire door. "You'll be out of the carrier and safe in your new home very soon."
Tyler scowled. "What is it?"
"He is my cat, Le Chat," she explained, taking the carrier from him. "He's very upset because he hates to travel. I know he would have preferred to stay behind in Salem, but Jack said he's positive Le Chat would be happier with me than with him. He only says that because he hates him," she confided.
Tyler looked upward, appealing to a much higher power who, he was convinced, was playing a very nasty trick on him. "Then I hope he is a good mouser because that's the only use we have for eats around here."
Letitia looked horrified at his pronouncement. "Le Chat is not a mouser. He has an impeccable bloodline."
Tyler took the carrier from her and set it in the back of the truck. "Well, countess, out here, bloodlines don't mean much except with horses and cattle." He herded Letitia to the passenger door of the truck with the same ease he herded cattle. He planted his hand against her rear end and unceremoniously pushed her onto the seat.
"I could have gotten in here myself!" she protested, looking down at him.
"Not in that skirt." He walked around the front of the truck to the driver's side.
Tyler swung his body behind the steering wheel and started the engine. He swore under his breath when the cat's yowling protest vibrated through the air.
"He doesn't like riding in the back," Letitia told him.
"He'll get used to it," he clipped, steering the truck down the pothole-infested drive.
"He also holds grudges and he knows you were the one who put him back there." She shifted her body into a more comfortable position-not all that easy on a seat that was patched with duct tape. "Le Chat always gets even."
"I'll survive." He shifted gears, wishing she'd quit wiggling because every movement sent a wave of sexy perfume his way. Damn, why did she have to be one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen? Why couldn't she look like one of those horse-faced toothy society matrons he'd seen in old movies on 'IV, in- stead of having lovely delicate features with sparkling eyes and a warm smile? Yet she dressed and looked like old money. Silk clothing, expensive leather shoes, hair pulled up in an elaborate braid with a ribbon running through it the same color as her blouse. No woman should look that good! He wondered how long it would take before she begged to go back to civilization. He wished he could remember what the odds were in the betting pool. Everyone had chipped in five bucks; he'd given her two hours. He now shortened his estimate to half that time. Besides, he reminded himself, just because she's lovely on the outside doesn't mean she's all that lovely inside. Still, if she has the money necessary to sink into the ranch he won't complain. He tried to tune out her voice as she chattered away, but it was easier said than done.
"It's very remote, isn't it?" Letitia chattered as she looked right and left. "I mean, there's so much empty land around. I'm surprised real estate developers haven't come out this way."
She hoped she didn't sound like some flighty socialite to Tyler and feared that was exactly what she sounded like. She hadn't expected her ranch foreman to look like he stepped out of one of those old cigarette ads. She expected him to be gray-haired, paunchy and chewing tobacco. Maybe even be unshaven. Instead, he turned out to be tall and very good-looking. Seated this close to him, she could inhale the warm aroma of horse mixed with male sweat. Her eyes lingered on his hands resting on the steering wheel. She'd bet there were calluses on the fingertips and in the palm and they'd feel raspy against her bare skin. She almost shook her head in denial. Where did that mental picture come from? She wasn't here to find a man. Not with her lousy track record where the opposite sex was involved. She noted a pale blue and purple bruise on his thumb that spread across his nail. She winced at the idea of what kind of pounding could have caused something that must have hurt like hell when it happened. She had to bring herself sharply back to the here and now to catch Tyler's answer to her spoken question.
"As you said, it's too remote, although most of this land is either privately owned or owned by the government and we lease grazing rights. Besides, no big city yuppie wants this kind of commute, much less live so far from the symphony, the theater, Rodeo Drive," he tacked on in a sardonic tone. "Although, we do seem to be getting movie stars out here because they want the privacy."
She tipped her head to one side, looking at him with eyes he thought saw more than he wanted to show. He was beginning to fear this lady might not be the fluff ball she'd first appeared.
"Opera puts me to sleep," she stated. "Now, tell me about the ranch."
"We run cattle."
Her face brightened. "Oh, like in the movies with cattle drives and stampedes and all?"
"Stampedes aren't exactly a pastime we encourage. It tends to upset the cattle," Tyler gritted, swiftly changing his estimation of her, again.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Damn! Why did she have to have seduced Giancarlo into signing the ranch over to her? Giancarlo had practically promised Tyler he could buy it from him. Giancarlo had never been interested in being a hands-on owner. In order for the ranch to pull out of its slump and have a chance to succeed, it really needed the personal touch. And Tyler, with his love for the land, knew he could give it just that. He still had a chance, his inner voice intruded. The lady looked as if ranch life wouldn't agree with silk clothing and fancy hairstyles, so maybe he could strike a deal with her.
"We'll be on your land in about half an hour," he announced suddenly. He mentally cursed the moment he spoke because Letitia's attention was now focused on him and with each movement of her body the haunting fragrance of her perfume floated in his direction.
"And then how much longer before we reach the house?"
"Another hour and a half or so."
Letitia leaned forward and peered through the windshield. "The ranch is that big?" Her hushed voice was filled with awe.
"You need a lot of land with cattle," he said, frowning. "Tell me something, countess, exactly how much do you know about ranches?"
"They either have cattle, sheep or horses, cowboys work on them and-" her brow wrinkled in thought "-and the old men chew tobacco, which sounds positively disgusting."
"Where exactly did you grow up?" Tyler demanded. He couldn't believe it. What she said should have come out sounding stupid, but instead, she merely sounded like someone who just didn't know.
Letitia crossed her ankles in perfect finishing-school fashion. The soft sound of silk sliding against perfumed silk was loud in Tyler's ears.
"I’d have to say most of my schooling was in England, although I did spend a year in Switzerland and another in Florence," she explained. "My mother loves to travel any chance she can get and my brother and I usually ended up in school wherever we happened to be at the time. She preferred England
because she felt they offered the best schooling. Although the uniforms we were forced to wear were hideous. When I complained about them, I was told they would build character. That isn't how I saw it."
"I thought you were Italian," he commented. Letitia shook her head. "No, born American, schooled European," she replied. "Mother left Connecticut years ago after she married Jack's father. She met mine in Berlin. He was with the American embassy there. Her present husband has something to do with British politics."
He was beginning to doubt that anything she said would surprise him. "Your mother had three husbands?"
"Actually, she's had five. Jack's father died of a heart attack, mine divorced her in favor of a cabaret singer and she went on to marry three more times. Her third husband died and she threw her fourth one out when she found out he had a mistress. She met her present husband two years ago. Luckily, she and Percival have been very happy." She wrinkled her nose. "Can you honestly imagine anyone named Percival? And he's not the type of man you can call Percy, either."
Her laughter washed over Tyler like warm rain. He hunched his shoulders as if the action would just banish her aura from him. He should have known better. The lady seemed to stick to him like glue. The sooner they reached the ranch house and she was inside, the happier he'd be. He deliberately tuned her out as he concentrated on navigating the twisting rocky road.
Except the speed only accomplished one thing, keeping Letitia unbalanced on the lumpy seat with her body bouncing right and left, usually left against Tyler. And Le Chat's angry yowls threatened to shatter his eardrums.
"Sorry," she murmured, after bumping into him the fourth time.
He gritted his teeth. "No problem." Oh sure, no problem. The lady smelled better than anything he'd ever smelled in his entire life and the source of that smell probably cost more than he made in a year! Does her bare skin feel as soft and silky as her clothing? What would she feel like in bed? He damned himself for even thinking it. Didn't he have enough problems without thinking of sliding her into his bed?
"I don't think Le Chat is having a good ride."
"Cats can endure anything."
"Yes, but Le Chat isn't just a cat. He has a pedigree longer than most humans. One of his ancestors was with Catherine De Medici."
"Well, hell, maybe we should have brought the limousine," Tyler muttered, pulling the wheel hard to the right to avoid a particularly nasty pothole.
"Considering the state of this road, it probably wouldn't have been a good idea. I guess it would cost too much to pave the road, wouldn't it?" Letitia rashly commented before she noted Tyler's dark frown.
"Yep."
Her face lit up. "You really do say yep! I thought that was only in the movies and in books."
Tyler heaved a sigh. "Countess, there's a lot of things we say around here, most of them not fit for a lady."
"You'd be surprised what I've heard over the years between my brother, his friends and later on with my ex-husband." Her lovely features darkened. "The louse."
"Hey, if he's not paying you enough alimony you can always take him back to court for more," Tyler suggested.
"I would do more than that if he hadn't decided to die on me when his polo pony fell on him. I'm just glad the horse wasn't hurt. No, Stephano deserved a much nastier death," she murmured. "And I would have been only too happy to arrange one for him."
"So because of your husband, uh, ex-husband, you're a countess?"
She slanted a look at Tyler. "No, you're the one who granted me that title. Stephano's family are only minor royalty. Very minor. Besides, I've been called much worse over the years."
"So how'd you meet Giancarlo?" Tyler asked.
"At a party in Los Angeles. I should have known he was a complete bastard. He was much too charming. Stephano had been charming. At first. Then polo became his first love." She raised her hands, palms up in an and-that-was-that gesture.
"I'm just wonderin' how you ended up with the ranch." He figured he'd learn all he could as long as she was going to speak so openly.
"Giancarlo owed me a lot of money and he preferred signing the ranch over to going to jail," she explained. "If I'd had my way he would have..."
"Been drawn and quartered among other things," Tyler finished for her.
She grimaced. "I guess I went a little overboard on the phone. Luckily, Jack understands my temper. He doesn't have one. The man is so cool and composed it's downright scary. It must have something to do with the books he writes."
He didn't want to ask. He wanted to avoid chitchat altogether. Still, he had to find out. "Your brother writes books?"
Letitia nodded. "Horror. Have you ever read anything by Jack Montgomery?"
Tyler was now impressed. "The man who wrote Black Moon? It was very good. One of the men read it and had trouble sleeping for a week. The book jacket said he's written a lot of books, but I'd never seen them before."
Letitia nodded in agreement. "He's only been published in Europe until recently. He moved to Salem, Massachusetts a little over a year ago and got married just after the first of the year. Talk about the perfect life-style. He's living in a house haunted by a man who hung himself at the turn of the century, his wife is a witch's descendant and her children believe in magic so much they cast a spell to conjure up a father. It's the Addams Family without Thing and Lurch, but they do have a housekeeper who had to have been one of the witches in Macbeth. "
Tyler shook his head. "Great, the countess and her whole family are loony tunes," he muttered, glancing out the side window. Landmarks told him the ride would only be another ten minutes. Ten minutes that would seem like a lifetime.
Letitia wasn't sure which was worse: Le Chat's agitated yowling in the back of the truck or Tyler's glares. She subdued a sigh. During her flight here she went over in her mind how she was going to handle this. She had vowed to let this be the beginning of a new life for herself. A life that would give her complete independence. How good that word sounded! After all these years of having to first rely on her mother then Stephano and even her brother, she felt she was well and truly on her own now and vowed to make this new venture work. After all, with ranch hands doing all the heavy work, how hard could it be to run a ranch? And her foreman was supposed to oversee everything, wasn't he? She straightened her shoulders, feeling more confident about her future than she had in a long while.
Her foreman. He was dusty from the long drive to town. His craggy face was bristling with a heavy beard, features that looked grim enough to belong on a statue. Eyes that beautiful shade of gray shouldn't be so cold and condemning, she decided. The man was clearly not too happy to have her here. Well, too bad, she was here and intending to stay whether he liked it or not!
Letitia was so lost in her thoughts she didn't realize the truck was slowing to a stop until Tyler spoke.
"Well, countess, welcome to Running Springs Ranch!' Faint sarcasm coated his words. "Hope it's all you thought you would be."
Letitia's expectant smile faltered then died completely as she looked past Tyler's impressive chest toward a sprawling clapboard house with discolored peeling gray paint that left the exterior looking like it had been left untended for many a season. It was a he Countess toss-up whether the roof or the weathered porch would collapse first.
"And I thought Jack's house was the ultimate in horror," she murmured, before looking up at Tyler's chiseled profile and asking a tad hopefully, "Is this the bunkhouse?"
He turned to face her with a sardonic smile pasted on his lips. "No, countess, this is the main house where the owner resides, although I guess it doesn't look anything like the castles and mansions you're used to." He confirmed her worst fears. "I admit it might need a little work, but I'm sure you can spruce it up thanks to all that money you got from your titled ex-husband before he kicked the bucket or got crushed by his horse or whatever he did."
"Money? I don't have any money! His family canceled my credit cards the day of Stephano's funeral!" she blurted out, goi
ng nose to nose with him. With her hands braced on her hips, her chest was pushed out until it brushed against his shirt front. "All I have to my name is this ranch!"
Tyler's mouth dropped open in shock. He could only stare at her, unable to believe what he just heard. He not only got saddled with a fancy dancy countess, but a broke one at that!
Chapter Two
Tyler stared up at the sky as if a higher power might suddenly speak up and assure him this was all a horrible nightmare he would soon wake up from. At the very least, a very nasty joke. Neither happened.
"I don't believe this," he muttered, slowly shaking his head. He stared down at the ground looking for that same answer. His anger sliced through her like a hot knife. "You're dressed in clothing that probably costs more than I make in a year, you were married to some high mucky muck Italian member of royalty, and you don't have a cent?" By the time he finished, his voice was a low roar.
Letitia was unperturbed by his fury. She prided herself on remaining calm in the most upsetting situations. Right now, she felt this was a true test of her ability. "I don't know why you're so worried. I'm not destitute. I have the ranch." She looked a bit doubtful as she gazed at the house. "Of course, it does need a little work," she murmured under her breath.
Tyler kept shaking his head as he walked around to the rear of the truck and lowered the tailgate with a measured bang.
"Ben, get over here and help me get this unloaded," he barked at a young man who stood near the barn watching them with open curiosity ...”Starting with this." He picked up the animal carrier and handed it to the younger man as he walked up. Ben winced at the earsplitting sounds coming from the interior.
"My poor baby!" Letitia reached for the carrier. At the same time the latch loosened and the cat flew out of the interior like a tawny blond haze. "Le Chat!"
"Duffy!" Tyler yelled at the same time as a black shepherd-wolf mix appeared from a comer of the house. The moment the large canine saw a member of his worst enemy, he chased after it. 'The cat promptly raced for a straggly tree near the house.