Letter to a Lonesome Cowboy

by Jackie Merritt

  “You can tell that fast?”

  Suzanne smiled again. “Would you like a lesson on accounting procedures, Rand?”

  He shook his head adamantly. “No, thank you.”

  Suzanne closed the book and looked at him. “I think we should discuss how involved you want me to get with your records. Remember, I won’t be here very long. And how will George feel about my even touching his books? Rand, you have to understand something. An accountant feels quite—oh, what’s the word?—possessive, maybe, about his or her work.”

  “Really?” Rand looked dubious.

  “Trust me, it’s the truth. You must know George’s attitudes and personality. Is he going to resent someone else doing his work?”

  Rand thought for a moment. “Suzanne, I have to do what’s best for the ranch. I honestly don’t think George will resent anything you do in here, but if he does…well, I’ll deal with that if and when it happens.” He paused, thought again for several seconds, then said, “What I need most right now is a payroll.”

  “When is payday?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” she echoed, her lovely eyes opened wide. Rand shrugged. “But is there really any hurry? I mean, until the men can leave the ranch, what could they possibly do with their checks?”

  “You’re absolutely right, we don’t even have mail service. But that’s not the point, Suzanne. There’s never been a late payroll on this ranch while I’ve been here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Suzanne nodded. “I understand.” Again she turned her chair to survey the black-bound books. Spotting one bearing the label Payroll Records, she took it from the shelf and, moving the Check Register aside, laid it on the desk. After going through it for a few minutes, she raised her eyes to Rand. “George is a methodical accountant. Everything is here. There’s a page for each employee, citing salary, social security number and other pertinent information. Also, every check they’ve received is recorded. Unless you’ve given someone a raise or changed their status in some way, I can use what’s in this book and get your payroll out by noon tomorrow. Is that soon enough?”

  Rand sat back. “You’re incredible.”

  From the tone of his voice Suzanne suspected he wasn’t just talking about her accounting abilities. Neither was he flirting, as he’d done in the kitchen. His expression was seriously admiring, and she couldn’t help responding to it when no one had admired her for anything for a very long time.

  It seemed an eternity and she still wasn’t able to force her eyes from his, and during that time a great change took place within her. She was immeasurably attracted to this man, and was there any logical reason why she should deny or fight it?

  “Am I really?” she quietly asked, belying the quickened beat of her heart.

  “You are,” Rand said so softly she just barely heard him. She was such a pleasure to look at that he couldn’t stop staring. It was as though he were etching her features on his brain so that when she was gone he would be able to remember every detail of her face and form.

  Something wonderful is happening here, Suzanne thought as warmth blossomed within her. It had been so long since she’d felt this delicious, potent attraction to and from a man, and she wanted to sustain and protect it. To make it last for a while.

  Her hint of a smile was pure female. “Because I understand accounting?”

  “No, because you’re beautiful and caring, smart and unselfish, and you’re also adaptable.”

  Her smile became broader, slightly teasing. “All of those things? My, I really am incredible, aren’t I?”

  “You really don’t believe it, do you?”

  She didn’t want to burst his bubble by describing what a truly ordinary woman she was. Certainly she wasn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination. Pretty, maybe, in a quiet sort of way, but not beautiful. And yet it was that very fact that made her absorb Rand’s compliment like a thirsty sponge. True or not, it was lovely to hear.

  As for the rest of his opinion, if she weren’t caring, unselfish and adaptable, her life would be even harder than it was. As for Rand’s word smart, she knew she was very smart in some things and extremely obtuse in others. Perhaps uneducated was a better word than obtuse, as she was thinking of how badly she was failing with Mack and most of that failure was due to an ignorance of teenage boys.

  But they weren’t discussing Mack right now, were they? And if Rand had any more lovely things to say to her, she wanted to hear them.

  “I think you’re making me believe it,” she said quietly, which wasn’t entirely true but neither was it a total lie. Maybe what was happening was that he was making her want to believe it.

  Rand was thinking that he’d give up a month’s pay to kiss her right now. She had sensually full lips, and he could almost taste their texture and warmth. Breathing normally was becoming difficult. A bittersweet ache in his groin was getting more pronounced.

  “Suzanne—” he leaned forward “—when I put that ad in that magazine, I never dreamed—I didn’t dare dream—that it would result in my meeting someone like you.”

  It was as though someone had suddenly doused Suzanne with ice water. She had actually forgotten that abominable ad! Her pulse rate dropped so fast she saw spots before her eyes. What in God’s name had she been doing? Listening to and half believing what could only be flattery for some nefarious reason of Rand’s own, forgetting completely that his horrid ad had caused her untold grief and that the worst was yet to come, when she and Mack got back to Baltimore and had to scrimp by to even eat!

  Rand felt a sudden influx of shock. The expression on Suzanne’s face would dilute the most fiery of emotions. But what did it mean? What was she thinking?

  “Suzanne,” he said frantically. “What’s wrong?”

  The anger within herself, aimed at herself, expanded to include Rand. “I’m sure you know,” she snapped, standing to transfer the black-bound books from the desk to the wall shelf.

  Rand, too, got to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”

  “Take a wild guess,” she said coldly. “Unless there’s something else you wish to discuss concerning the work in this office, I’m going to bed.” Glaring at him, tapping her toe impatiently, she waited to hear his answer.

  Rand couldn’t believe this was happening. They’d been getting along so well. Better than well. She’d been so sweetly feminine, so desirable, and now she looked as though one more word from him would start World War III.

  He frowned. Surely his mentioning that ad hadn’t caused this. It wasn’t, after all, something she hadn’t known about.

  He couldn’t let her leave in this state, and his mind raced for something to say to get her talking again.

  “Uh, there is something,” he said uneasily. “I’d like to put Mack on the payroll. I’ve been operating shorthanded and—”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why have you been operating shorthanded?” Her eyes were like hard brown icicles.

  Rand’s stomach sank. Instinct told him that the truth would scare her. Hell, it scared him. They could all be blown up in their sleep; he’d be a fool not to be scared. What he should have done the minute he’d learned about that second box of dynamite was to get everyone off the ranch, then have Reed bring out some other officers and conduct a complete and thorough search of the place.

  But the weather had been clear, he’d thought he could find it himself and even Reed hadn’t suggested an evacuation. Then the blizzard had struck, changing everything. They were all trapped out here until it was over, and Suzanne worrying about sabotage and dynamite would do no one any earthly good. Rand braced himself for a lie.

  “Hands come and go,” he said. “It’s just one of the things that go along with ranching.”

  Suzanne inhaled and exhaled slowly, not completely certain he’d been honest with her, although she couldn’t put a finger on why she harbored some doubts over what he’d just told her. But what d
id she know about ranching, and why would he lie about something so mundane?

  She put that subject aside and focused her thoughts on her brother. “I don’t want Mack on the payroll.”

  “But he worked as hard as the hired hands today, and I’m positive he’ll be up and ready to do it again tomorrow. Suzanne, he deserves compensation.”

  Suzanne’s eyes flashed angrily. “He deserves a swift kick in the seat of his pants! Handing him a paycheck would be as bad as patting him on the back and telling him what he did was all right. It wasn’t all right, and I don’t want anyone even hinting that it was! Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very, but I think you’re wrong.”

  “Well, that’s just too bad. I personally don’t give a damn what you or anyone else might think about my attitude on this matter. Mack will not receive a paycheck if we’re stuck here for…for two weeks!”

  “It won’t be that long,” Rand said gruffly. He didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. As angry as Suzanne was, he still wanted to kiss her. He wanted to gentle her, hold her and make that sweet smile appear on her beautiful face again.

  “Is there anything else?” Suzanne asked stiffly.

  Rand thought a moment, then growled, “Yeah, there is.” He started around the desk and Suzanne thought he was going to show her something else that had to do with the books on the wall shelf.

  Instead, he stopped right in front of her, locked his hands around her waist and pulled her forward. She gasped out loud, but before she could get one word of protest out of her mouth he was kissing her.

  The sensation of his mouth on hers caused another, that of her stomach dropping clear to her toes. Objections to this onslaught stacked up in her mind, but they were swiftly overwhelmed by the reactions of her body. While his kiss devoured her lips, he brought her closer, and the chafing of her nipples against his chest shot a whole new wave of response through her system.

  She could feel his manhood, huge and hard, pressing into her abdomen, inarguable evidence of where he hoped this kiss would take them. She tried to think clearly, but it was barely possible to think at all with his tongue in her mouth, one of his hands caressing her buttocks and the other clasping the back of her neck under her hair.

  Her hands, her fingers, which had risen to his chest to push him away, began to curl into his shirt. A feverish heat was developing in the pit of her stomach. She gasped for breath and suddenly needed more air than she was getting.

  Jerking her head, she tore her mouth free of his and sucked in an enormous breath. Dazed and dizzy, she stayed where she was and looked up into Rand’s eyes, which seemed to be darker than usual and burning with a hot light. Seconds passed and neither moved.

  Rand spoke first, hoarsely, raggedly. “Suzanne…”

  She swallowed hard and took in more air. “I…what are we doing?”

  “Making love,” he whispered, dipping his head to nuzzle her creamy throat. She smelled delicious, so clean, so femininely fragrant, and his head was spinning from her scent.

  Her glassy gaze fell on the black books on the wall shelf. “But…we can’t.”

  Rand raised his head to look at her. “We can’t?” He immediately thought the worst. “Is there someone in Baltimore?”

  “No…but…” Suzanne was struggling with her own sense of right and wrong. A sexual relationship with Rand could only be an affair, a very brief affair, without love, without commitment. Did she want that sort of memory haunting her when she was finally able to go home?

  Rand feared he was losing her. Kissing her without her consent had been an extremely bold move. She could have yelled, “Sexual harassment!” and slapped his face, but after her initial shock had passed she had kissed him back with all the ardor any man could hope for. Now he sensed that she was emotionally slipping away, and he knew he would do almost anything to have her clinging to him again.

  “Suzanne, this is important to me. You are important to me,” he said with genuine sincerity.

  Suzanne almost lost it. He wasn’t leading up to a marriage proposal, was he? Dare she doubt it when he had gone so far as to advertise for a wife? she thought with panic destroying every trace of the desire she had nearly drowned in only moments ago.

  She had to put an end to this right now, she thought. But she had to do it tactfully. After all, she had kissed him back like a wild woman, and why wouldn’t he think it meant more than it did when he was looking for a wife. Why in heaven’s name did she keep forgetting that?

  Well, it just wasn’t her fault, she told herself next, receiving some comfort from doing so. She certainly hadn’t started this, he had. She would let him down as easily as she could, but she had to let him know he had gained nothing by kissing her.

  “Rand, you have to listen to me for a minute.” His arms were still around her, she was still pressed against him, and she gently extricated herself from his embrace, then moved around the desk so it was between them. She saw the look of disappointment on Rand’s face, but what could she do about it?

  But then, just like that, words escaped her. Instead of the tactful letdown she’d been intending, she found herself thinking of him, of how she’d felt in his arms, of how incredibly handsome he was and how hurt he looked now.

  She gave up, mumbled, “Good night,” and all but ran from the room.

  With a heavy sigh, Rand watched her leave, then listened to the quiet closing of her bedroom door.

  His body was tight as a drum, hot and throbbing. It was just as well that he was planning to lay out his bedroll at the foot of the stairs tonight, because he probably wouldn’t get much rest wherever he stretched out.

  Suzanne got into her pajamas the second she was in her bedroom, turned off the light and climbed into bed. Huddled under the covers, she heard Rand go into his room and, about ten minutes later, come out of it again.

  Lord, what a startling evening this had been, she thought with a nervous shudder. She had come very close to jumping into bed with Rand tonight, and she knew she would have regretted it the moment it was over. Thank God she’d come to her senses in time.

  And yet there was the most restless yearning in her body. Well, she had become very aroused, she thought in defense of the feeling. And there was no denying Rand’s potent appeal. Why couldn’t she meet someone like him in Baltimore? Minus that awful advertisement for a wife, of course. How could Rand have done something so utterly ludicrous? He didn’t seem at all like the sort of man who would drop his standards to such a low level.

  But then did she know him well enough yet to make that judgment? Scratch anyone’s surface personality and no telling what you might find.

  After a while Suzanne started wondering what Rand was doing. Why hadn’t he returned to his room and gone to bed? The bunkhouse was totally silent; the only thing she could hear was the storm outside. Obviously the men were in bed, why wasn’t Rand?

  Ten minutes of that line of thought was all she could stand. Getting up, she tiptoed to the door, opened it a crack and peered down the hall. Only a dim night-light burned, but it was enough. Her mouth literally dropped open when she saw Rand in a sleeping bag at the foot of the stairs.

  Was he crazy, or what? Why would he choose to sleep on the floor in the hall rather than in his bed?

  It was a very long time before Suzanne fell asleep that night. She lay there listening to the storm that raged on and on with no break in sight, thinking of herself kissing a crazy man and loving it, worrying about Mack and their future when they finally did manage to get home and, in general, feeling as miserable as a human being could. What horrible thing had she ever done to deserve what she was having to endure in her twenty-fourth year of life?

  Rand had been dozing, but he came wide-awake over a sound at the top of the stairs. His eyes opened instantly and he caught the blur of movement. Someone was up and wandering!

  Jumping up, he took the stairs three at a time. Everything was quiet, no lights burned. Scowling, he began opening doors and peeri
ng into bedrooms. Every man was in his bed and appeared to be sound asleep. Whoever had been roaming had hurried back to his bed when he saw Rand at the foot of the stairs. The man might be fully dressed and in bed with his clothes on, but Rand couldn’t wake every man and demand an inspection.

  Still, he had stopped someone from pulling any dirty tricks tonight, hadn’t he? Feeling good about that, at least, Rand returned to the first floor and crawled back into his sleeping bag.

  His eyes narrowed in circumspection. Right now that dynamite could be under a snowbank, but it wasn’t likely because the perpetrator would want to keep it dry. Where could it be? Mentally Rand walked through every building on the ranch and visualized every possible hiding place. When he’d actually conducted his search, had he missed anything?

  He glanced up the stairs, and his lips thinned grimly. If someone hadn’t been up to no good when Rand had spotted movement on the second floor, why hadn’t he shown himself?

  The constant howl of the wind was beginning to grate on Rand’s nerves. Regardless that the blizzard was keeping Suzanne on the ranch, he wished it would stop. Once it did the sun would come out. The earth would be a blanket of glistening white and very beautiful to the eye. He would like her to see that.

  He groaned quietly as his thoughts changed directions. Never had he wanted a woman more than he had tonight in the office while holding Suzanne. And she had wanted him just as much. Why had she suddenly turned off on him?

  For a while he tortured himself with the fantasy of going into her bedroom, undressing and crawling into bed with her, of taking her in his arms and making love to her. He wanted desperately to kiss her again, and to touch her in all the right places while she touched him.

  Muttering a curse, he punched his pillow and told himself to cool off. He was not going into her bedroom uninvited, so why drive himself crazy thinking about it?

  It was a long, miserable night for Rand, with only a few catnaps to ease his weariness.