by Linda Wisdom
She shaded her eyes with her hand as she took in the nearby rolling hills dotted with cattle grazing. A thrill of pride ran through her body as she surveyed the quiet scene.
"It's mine," she murmured with quiet awe. "This is all mine." She couldn't stop smiling as she slowly turned in a circle.
"Lord, missy, the way you dawdle, you'll be lucky if you even see the first barn," J. T. called out from the open barn doorway where he stood watching her.
She turned around and walked to him. "There's no grass, no flowers out here."
He looked confused. "There's more than enough grass for the cattle. Probably cause we're not running the numbers we used to."
Letitia shook her head. "No, I mean there's no grass, no flowers right here." She swept her hand in a half circle toward the yard area.
"No reason to have any."
"No reason? There's always a reason to have flowers and even a small patch of grass," she argued.
He looked puzzled. "Why?"
Letitia opened her mouth then shut it again. "Why?" She needed to be sure she heard his question correctly.
He nodded.
She pulled in a deep breath. "Because they cheer people up, they add beauty to the area and...” She couldn't believe she'd run out of reasons so quickly! "And they add color."
J. T. shook his head as he led her into the dim interior. "There's no one around here who's got the time to take proper care of flowers. Not when there's a ranch this size to run. Tell me somethin', since you lived in Italy, did you ever meet Gina Lollobrigida? Now that's one fine woman!"
Letitia shook her head. "No, I'm sorry I never did. Although, it was rumored that my ex-father-in-Iaw had a fling with her many years ago. I did see Sophia Loren at a charity ball once."
He smiled. "Yep, she's another looker. The women today just don't have what the women back then had."
She leaned against a stall door. She decided she liked the grizzled old man with the wry twinkle in his eye. "What did they have then that was so special?"
"They were real women," he stated. "They didn't care about all this equality nonsense because they didn't need to. They were women who took care of themselves, but knew how to make a man feel like a man when it counted."
"Were you ever married, J.T.?" Letitia asked curiously.
He shook his head. "Hell, when I was young I was too busy seein' the country to want to get tied down. By the time I took the job here, I was too settled in my ways to bother with a woman."
"There's always Myrna." Her sly question hit its mark.
"Myrna's as set in her ways as I am in mine," he informed her. "And no match makin', missy, or you'll find yourself in a sorry patch of trouble."
"I figured it wouldn't hurt," she teased, straightening up and following him through the barn.
Letitia walked into the tack room and fingered bridles hanging from various hooks. Many of them had been mended with intricate delicacy that defied the naked eye. She studied a saddle that was waiting for a broken cinch strap to be repaired.
"Giancarlo told me the ranch was a real moneymaker." She sighed. "I should have known better. He hadn't told the truth about anything else. Why should he have about this? Especially when I was holding a gun on him." Seeing his curiosity, she relayed the story of how she received the ranch.
J.T. hooted and slapped his knee. "Bet that showed him." His expression sobered. "A money-taker is more like it. Ranching isn't a cheap operation. When the snows are heavy, we have to truck feed out to the cattle which is damn expensive if you don't grow your own. While we can handle most of our own animal doctoring, there's some things we need a vet out here for, then there's the pay for the men, food, and that's not takin' into account doctor bills if one of the men gets hurt."
Letitia experienced a sinking feeling. "Give me an estimate." The figure J.T. quoted sent her stomach falling into a bottomless pit. "Is there anything positive you can tell me?"
J.T. pondered her question. "We ain't been foreclosed on yet."
"That's a heartening thought."
By the time J. T. finished showing Letitia through the barns where she admired two new colts, a newborn filly and listened to J.T.'s comments about the ranch, her head was whirling with information and going crazy over the facts and figures he tossed out.
"What have I gotten myself into?" she moaned, leaning against a corral fence.
"Mind telling me something?" J. T. asked.
She held her hand up, palm out. "Yes, I did take a vow that I will never allow myself to be lured by the charms of an Italian man again. And I should have shot him when I had the chance."
He grinned. "No, I just wondered if you're going to stick it out."
"I have no choice."
"Everyone has a choice."
"I'm not everyone."
He eyed her leggings that weren't as immaculate as before. Bits of hay snagged the fabric beyond repair and several smudges of dirt dotted her sweater. "That I can see. So why?"
From the beginning, Letitia sensed she had a friend in the elderly man and opted to answer him honestly rather than with a flippant remark. "So I can prove I can succeed on my own."
He nodded. "You know, they don't think you can make it."
“They, meaning Tyler." She shrugged. "Then I'll just have to prove him wrong, won't II" She stepped to one side and froze. She looked down at her now filthy shoe, grimaced and spat out a word.
J.T. chuckled. "If that word means what I think it does, you're right."
LETITIA WALKED BAREFOOT into the kitchen, after dumping her ruined shoes into the trash can set just outside the kitchen door.
"They might have been saved with a good dose of bleach and heavy-duty detergent," Myrna commented, having watched Letitia's progress across the yard.
She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so."
"Then you better think about getting yourself a good pair of boots before all of your shoes start turning that particular shade of brown."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but from what I've already deduced, a major mall isn't within driving distance."
"No, but the town has a store that carries everything a body needs and we also have a good bootmaker. Tyler has to drive into town this afternoon. He can take you."
"I can what?" The object of Myrna's offer roared loud enough to make Letitia jump.
"Take Letty into town for a pair of boots. Her shoes might be fine for inside the house, but she needs something sturdier for around the barn and for riding." Myrna was unperturbed by Tyler's glare.
Tyler looked down at Letitia. “Yeah, I heard you didn't look before you stepped. Not exactly a good idea when you're around horses who aren't housebroken."
She just wished he wasn't so blasted tall! And incredible. Now she knew what Holly meant when she once told Letitia just looking at Jack not only took her breath away but all sense of rational thought. Because Letitia most definitely felt it with Tyler. "Yes, I discovered that. Tomorrow they all have to start wearing diapers."
Tyler stared at Letitia, unsure if she was kidding or not.
She rolled her eyes. "It's a joke, all right? Just a very bad joke."
"She needs the boots, Tyler," Myrna spoke up.
"We'll leave right after dinner." He spoke directly to Letitia. "For all our sakes, don't wear high heels. I'd hate to have you break your neck while climbing out of the truck."
"I could have figured that out on my own," she sputtered at his retreating back. "That man is so irritating and chauvinistic and..." She ran out of insults. "Neanderthal!"
Yeah, what a shame he's so good-looking to boot. Letitia peeked out the window. From behind the starched curtains, she could watch Tyler's lean-hipped body saunter across the yard to the largest black stallion she'd ever seen.
"Naturally, he'd ride a big horse," she muttered, unaware every word was heard by a grinning Myrna. She watched him swing himself into the saddle. "I bet he thinks of his big horse just like any man thinks of a fast car. Both of them nothi
ng more than a phallic symbol to make them feel macho."
"Honey, from what I've heard about Tyler and the ladies, he doesn't need to worry about any of those symbols. He does just fine all on his own."
Letitia grimaced. "Jack has told me countless times that I need to think before I speak. I'm just glad that glorified cowboy out there didn't hear me. Who knows what horrible reply he would have come up with?"
Myrna cracked a smile. "He would have had some fun with you, that's for sure."
Yes, and Letitia was only too familiar with Tyler's idea of fun "I think I'll see what I can do to clear up some of that mess in the office." Letitia reluctantly pulled herself away from the window.
Myrna nodded. "Just keep an eye on the clock. I run these meals on a schedule, remember?"
"I'm sure if I didn't remember, my stomach would."
In the next hour and a half, Letitia made two very important discoveries. None of the paperwork was dated any later than ten years ago and Harvey's idea of bookkeeping was to stuff all the receipts in a journal and toss them in an envelope when they were paid.
"Something else I'll have the pleasure of asking the foreman," she said with a sigh, pushing herself away from the desk.
She looked around, making a mental note to bring in some boxes and clean out the desk. Except what should she keep and what should she throw out?
"Maybe I'd be better off if I just burned it all," she lamented, sorting the various pieces of paper into three piles-one to definitely be thrown away, one to find out from Tyler if they're important or not, and the last held papers she knew had to be kept. At dinnertime she looked at the piles, pleased with the progress she'd made.
When Letitia walked into the kitchen she found only J. T. and a couple of the other men at the table.
"When they're working out on the range, it's easier to take their meal with them," J. T. answered Letitia's inquiring look.
"I thought maybe I'd scared everyone away." She stopped by the butcher-block worktable and picked up a tureen of beef stew.
"Only that critter you call a cat could do that," Tyler spoke up as he entered the kitchen. He neatly plucked the tureen out of her hands and set it on the table.
"Do you do that for Myrna?" she questioned.
"When its beef stew I do. I don't want to see her drop it and lose us a good dinner." He looked down at her feet. "You don't intend to wear those to town, do you?"
She followed his disdainful gaze. "Why not? They're shoes."
Tyler muttered a comment about God saving them from women who don't know what real shoes are.
Letitia studied her light blue leather ballet flats, twisting them one way then the other. "I wonder what you'll complain about next," she murmured.
"Just give me some time and I'll have a list for you."
As they ate their meal, Tyler couldn't stop sneaking glances at Letitia. He had to admit she didn't pick at her food the way so many women tended to nowadays. Considering the way she'd been eating since arriving at the ranch, he figured she had the kind of metabolism some women would kill for.
Letitia looked up just as she was about to spoon stew into her mouth. She gave a tiny embarrassed smile and put the spoon down. "I usually don't eat like this," she admitted. "It must be all the fresh air."
"I gave her a tour of all the barns this morning," J.T. told Tyler. "She's a quick learner."
Tyler's eyes dropped to Letitia's mouth. "Oh, I'm sure the lady has a lot of hidden talents she'll choose to reveal to us soon enough."
She refused to show any reaction to his pointed look and silent comment on the kind of woman he thought she-was. No wonder! She had kissed his socks off, and given a little more encouragement, could have kissed a great deal more off than that! She noticed everyone was concentrating on their food and not even looking their way. She made sure the others couldn't see her as she turned to Tyler with a bold smile pasted on her lips. She waited until he sensed her eyes on him and looked up with an inquiring expression. The minute he did she pursed her lips and blew him a silent kiss. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. The stunned look on his face gave her the answer she wanted.
Chapter Five
Letitia had accomplished a great deal more than she thought. Thanks to her erotic gestures, Tyler's hunger was rapidly being replaced by another hunger that couldn't be appeased by stew and dumplings.
He realized that in Letitia DeMarco, he'd found the one woman who seemed to know exactly what to do to unbalance him. Right now he wasn't sure whether to kiss her or throttle her. The latter was winning the battle raging inside his head while his nervous system was fighting for the former. He stood up with an abrupt jerk of his body and pushed back his chair.
"We'll leave in ten minutes." He didn't look at Letitia as he spoke. "If you're not ready, I leave without you." He walked out without a backward glance.
"I'm surprised Mr. Personality didn't want us to synchronize our watches," Letitia huffed. J.T.'s rusty chuckle caught her attention. She glared at him. "Did you say something?"
He shook his head, his lips still twitching. “No ma'am. I figure more than enough has been said already and I like my head right where it is."
Letitia turned to Myrna whose own shoulders were shaking with silent laughter at the exchange. "Cowboys are crazy."
"Yes, I guess they are," Myrna agreed. "Except you couldn't find a better breed of man when you need one."
Letitia didn't quite agree. She deliberately dawdled over her meal, but she still kept a close eye on the clock. She wouldn't give him any excuse to leave her behind. She knew he'd be out the door in a flash if she gave him the opportunity.
"Are you sure I can't help you with the dishes?" she asked Myrna, while still keeping one eye on the clock.
The older woman glanced pointedly at Letitia's manicured hands. "I don't think those long nails would appreciate your abusing them. In fact, if you're intending to finish cleaning up the house you better get yourself a good pair of rubber gloves so you don't ruin your hands."
Letitia added it to her rapidly growing list. She escaped to her bedroom with just enough time to rebrush her hair into a ponytail and spritz on her favorite scent. She hurried through the house then deliberately slowed her pace when she stepped out onto the front porch.
"Well, are you coming or not?"
She looked out and noticed the pickup truck parked in front of the house. Tyler leaned against the front fender, his arms crossed in front of his chest, one ankle cocked in front of the other. With his hat pulled down over his eyes and his dusty clothing, he looked like an advertisement for the quintessential western man.
"This man is danger with a capital D," she murmured, walking down the steps. "It's a good thing I'm well equipped."
"Oh, you're well equipped all right," Tyler drawled, his storm-colored eyes lingering on her slim figure. "The test is if your equipment can stand up to mine."
Letitia's smile broadened at his suggestive remark.
"Trust me, cowboy, you're the easiest critter I've come up against in a long time. A snap." She snapped her fingers to prove it.
He straightened up and pulled open the passenger door. "I'm not as easy as you think I am, sweetheart, but I'm worth it."
Letitia looked over her shoulder. Her haughty expression rivaled anything a member of royalty could come up with. "That's countess sweetheart to you, slave."
Tyler grinned, pleased with her comeback. "That's what I like about you. You're willing to give as good as you get." He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. "At this rate, you just might last longer than we thought." He started up the truck with a minimum of fuss.
"You act as if all of you set up a betting pool." She peered at him closely. There was nothing to indicate his thoughts at the moment, but still there was something in his expression that ... "Wait a minute. You took bets on how long I'd stay here before I screamed in horror and ran back to the big city?"
“Ranching is a lonely business. 'You do
what you can to relieve the monotony. And we all enjoy a good betting pool." He downshifted as they coasted over a cattle guard. "At the time, you were a perfect outlet."
Letitia flopped back in the seat. When she felt her nails dig into her palms, she consciously relaxed them. She stared intently out the window at gently rolling hills with tall mountains far off in the distance. Her imagination took off full tilt as she visualized Indians in colorful war paint overtaking the truck. Hmm, if she remembered correctly, Indians had some wonderful ways of dealing with their enemies. She wondered if she could find a book on the subject.
"How long did you give me?"
At first, Tyler pretended not to hear her question. Although, even after this short acquaintance, he should have realized that Letitia refused to be ignored.
"I hope you lost a lot of money," she said as if he'd answered her.
"Ten bucks so far. We drew up a new pool last night since you've already stayed longer than anyone figured on. I decided I'd be more conservative this time around."
She nodded her understanding. "You expected .me to demand to be taken back to the airport the first day, didn't you?"
"I figured you'd want to go back within the first hour, actually," he admitted, lulled by her soft voice. "Most bet on various times the first day. One even gave you twenty-four hours," he added generously.
She fumed. "What a shame I made it so difficult for you."
“Not really. Actually, your stubbornness in facing the truth is making this pool a hell of a lot more interesting than 'Monday Night football.' "
It was a good thing Tyler didn't see Letitia's smile or he'd think he had something to worry about.
"Well, I'm glad I've been able to provide you men with so much amusement." Her tone was conversational, unthreatening. She glanced at his hands lying relaxed on the steering wheel. It was so easy to imagine him strung up by the thumbs. Then she visualized Tyler tarred and feathered. The thought was so satisfying she couldn't stop smiling as she considered other appropriate tortures she could have Tyler and the men subjected to. Each more ghastly than the last. "Perhaps I can come up with something really horrible in the near future," she murmured.