“Oh. I thought we had.” Was this a trick question?
“I was assuming that once I showed you around the house, you’d be asking for more.”
“Does that mean you would give me more?”
He laughed. “No, that means I would have suggested you jump on the next bus back to New York. Come along. I want to show you outside.”
She followed him through a rickety screen door and onto the weathered back porch where the dog and cat were sprawled out in the shade.
“Do they have names?” she asked.
“Roscoe. I’ve had him since he was a pup. The cat? I don’t call him anything. He was already here when I moved in but he’s okay.”
“Looks like he’s doing you a favor with rodent control.” The cat looked like it had swallowed a couple of rats whole. “He might deserve a name.”
“Have at it,” Ruger winked.
As if the fat cat knew he was being talked about, he rolled over submissively onto his back. “He looks like a Fritz.” She squatted and rubbed his belly.
“The shed’s there.” Ruger pointed and she stood. “You’ll find supplies. Anything else you need you’ll have to grab while you’re in town. There’s a safety box in the kitchen cabinet where you’ll find cash to purchase any items for the house. At the market, the bill will go on my tab. Place any other receipts in the box for bookkeeping purposes. Also, you’ll find the employment contract there too. If you read it and have any questions just ask before you sign, but just so you know, the salary and arrangements are nonnegotiable.”
She plucked a daisy by the steps and rolled it between her fingers. “You’ll see that we’ll have a great working relationship.”
His brows lifted. “I hope so. I don’t have time for anything else.”
Back inside, he opened a cabinet and took out a small metal box and an old set of keys, handing them to her. “To the red truck outside.”
“How about keys to the house?”
He lifted a brow. “Yeah, I’m sure there must be a set somewhere around here. Might be best if I change the locks.”
“You might have to get a front door first for the key?”
“Oh, that tiny detail?” He laughed.
“Where should I start?” When in doubt it was best to jump right in.
He scratched his temple. “Go into town and grab food supplies for the next few days. You can grab more when the hands arrive.” His cell buzzed from his pocket. He grabbed it, glanced at the screen and frowned. “I better get back to work.” He started for the hallway then he turned back. “One more thing, do you have a driver’s license?”
“Yes.”
“Good, not that Sheriff Conley would give you too hard of a time.”
CHAPTER FOUR
RUGER STEPPED OUTSIDE and listened to the voice message from his ma. “The toilet is stopped up again. Can you help?”
With a grimace, he shoved his phone back into his front pocket. Add plumbing to his list of duties.
He glanced back at the house and sighed. What the hell? Filling his lungs with fresh air, he muttered a couple of curse words.
With his long, agitated strides, it took him half the time to reach the guest house. He followed the worn path around to the back, kicked off his dirty boots on the step, and went inside the unlocked screen door into the open space. Inside the refrigerator, he took out the iced tea and drank straight from the plastic jug. Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he stepped over to the window that faced the main house.
His new employee was cute, not that it mattered.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t GraceAnn Lutz.
So who was the woman impersonating the lady he spoke to briefly on the phone?
From the second he saw her he knew she wasn’t the same Grace he hired. She seemed as knowledgeable about ranch life as he was about the new fashion trends. Although the two women sounded similar, Grace Ann, a young, almost immature woman, giggled a lot during their conversation. This Grace was a self-assured, mature, intelligent woman who he suspected didn’t cook often—or ever.
“Damn!”
Rubbing the tension from his forehead, he gritted his teeth in regret. He realized she was lying so he should have sent her packing. He didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to train someone on how to run a kitchen, not that he knew much himself. He could slap a piece of cheese between two slices of bread and be good to go, yet truthfully, he’d looked forward to some food he could sink his teeth into.
He could always march back to the house and let her know that falsifying her identity was reason for automatic termination.
But he didn’t.
He was a bit curious.
Why had she lied? Hell, if this were some high salaried competitive position, he could forgive a little white lie or two, but under the circumstances it didn’t fit.
She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. Dark circles lined her pensive green eyes and her skin hadn’t seen the light of day in months. She was also a bit on the skinnier side.
He couldn’t get sidetracked. She didn’t have the right to come waltzing onto his land and telling a lie.
Growling, he left the house with his toolbox and hat, dragged on his boots, and strolled down to the fence that needed mending. There he took out the hammer and nails, sticking the extras between his teeth. It’d be nice when his hands were here to help.
At least now he had some help inside the house.
Even if she was lying.
Problem was, he didn’t believe Grace was lying about everything. Just a feeling he got being around her.
Maybe there was a good explanation.
Instinct warned him she needed Wilder Ranch as much as it needed her.
Finding someone else only meant he’d have to waste more time. It could take days, weeks, maybe even months, which he didn’t have.
He needed to stay focused and get the place in shape. The house looked like a shack, and he’d give Grace credit where credit was due, she didn’t turn her nose up at it and run away like most women would.
Sure, it looked a mess sitting under a rusty roof, but after he was finished the property would be worth three times more than what he paid for it. Within five years all his planning would materialize into a retreat where guests could learn the basics of ranching, riding, and taking care of animals. He envisioned the ranch full of laughter and celebration during holidays, maybe even a venue for weddings. It all would come in due time.
Just as soon as he’d bought the ranch he’d had buyers coming out of the woodwork wanting to buy the land off him. Developers wanted to tear the house down and build new. Call it being stubborn, or whatever, Ruger had always had a soft spot for places like the ranch.
He’d had his eye on this place even as a kid. He and his family would drive by on Sunday on their way to church. Back then it was a reputable working ranch and the house had been akin to a mansion, at least in his eyes. The wide sparkling windows had seemed majestic reflecting the sun. Carter had kept a fresh coat of paint on the siding every few years, as well as having the best-looking lawn this side of Montana. The fields had been overflowing with horses. The barns bursting with farm animals. Now it was time to bring it all back.
Ruger knew the ranch had character.
The day before he left for boot camp he’d stopped to visit. Even up in age, Carter was as sharp as a tack. They’d sat out on the front porch and over tall glasses of tea they reminisced about the good ol’ days of Cooper’s Hawk. As Ruger had stood to leave, the old man had stood too, and with a wide smile he’d said, “Son, maybe one day you’ll have a ranch just like this one.”
It only seemed natural that this place would belong to Ruger.
He knew what the place could look like because he had the vision, and the determination to see it through.
To get there, he’d be spending a lot of days, and nights, working. He was overcome with pride. He wanted to do the place justice—to make James Carter proud too.
&n
bsp; Pounding the nail into the fence, he lost some of the tension that had been building in his chest.
He needed to get to know Grace better, figure out what he should do.
He couldn’t forget his ma still needed his help too.
Dropping the hammer and nails, he retraced the path to the main house. Inside, he looked around, listening, hearing some rustling sounds coming from upstairs.
“Grace?” he called out. A second later, she appeared at the second-floor landing. She’d changed into a simple top, black yoga pants with some kind of see-through fabric down the legs and fancy running shoes. She looked like she was heading to the gym instead of grabbing supplies for a ranch. Better than the last outfit.
“Did you need me?” she asked as she piled her long hair high on her head and secured it.
Shifting from one boot to the other, he hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “I need to run into town. I figured it might be a good time to show you around and pick up some supplies myself. You ready?”
A smile erupted over her heart shaped face. “Give me thirty seconds.”
He stepped out onto the porch and waited, shifting his weight on the dilapidated boards to test them.
A fly buzzed around his head and he took off his hat, using it to swat at the pest. He only managed to piss the sum’bitch off and soon he had a family flying around him.
Jumping off the porch, that solved his fly problem, but he found Roscoe staring at him with inquisitive brown eyes. “What’s wrong, boy?”
The dog let out a long yawn and stretched in the shade under an ancient tree that still had a tire swing hanging from a branch.
Because he was still waiting, he gave the dry rotted rope of the swing a jerk and it came down fast, the frayed end smacking him against the face. “Shit!” His cheek stung.
Buzzing sounded in his ear. He swiveled, cursing at the new assault from the fly family.
“You damn son-of-a-guns.” He waved both hands through the air.
Then he saw Grace standing a few feet away, a smile on her pretty pink lips. “You’re attracting the flies.”
“Huh?”
She pointed at his left boot. He looked down and frowned. At some point he’d stepped into a still warm pile of—
“Is that a gift from Roscoe?” She hid her smile behind her hand.
“Roscoe!” Ruger bit out, looking at the dog who gave a low growl and closed his eyes without a care in the world. Blowing out a long breath, Ruger grumbled, “I have another pair of boots in the back of the truck.”
While he changed into the clean boots, he took a leisurely visual stroll down the backside of those form fitting pants Grace had on while she busily scrolled through her phone, apparently looking for service. At least she appeared to be in shape but working out at a gym with air conditioning and music playing from corner speakers couldn’t prepare a man or woman for the grueling work on a ranch.
“I really have terrible service here.” She swung around and he jerked his gaze off her.
“Yeah, that’s the point. No working phone means a person can relax. I did mention that issue. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Nope, not at all.” She dropped the cell into her fancy-looking purse.
He had his doubts that she was cut out for ranch life so maybe if he stayed quiet, she’d be gone in a few days anyway. That’d take care of one problem, but he’d still be left with a bigger one. Who’d want to come out here and hang out with rednecks? Maybe he should be hoping she stayed.
“Good.” He tossed the stinky boots into the bed. “Ready?” Time was a-wasting.
She turned and their gazes locked. “I’ve been ready.”
Swallowing a curse, he wouldn’t allow those intriguing sea green eyes to take his mind off focus. Or the way her bottom lip trembled slightly as if she couldn’t quite decide whether she wanted to smile or not.
“Roscoe, man the house.” Ruger resituated his Stetson and stepped over to open the passenger door for Grace. Seeing her confused expression, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Not one thing.”
He caught an amazing whiff of vanilla as she climbed into the truck. He’d never been into perfumes and overpowering scents, and actually preferred the natural scent of a woman, but this one was a perfect combination of a freshly baked batch of cookies and morning sunshine.
When he settled into the driver’s seat, he started the engine and turned on the air full blast. “We don’t have AC inside but we do out here.”
“I don’t want to complain, but when do you think you’ll get that door put up?”
“A door? You were serious?”
“Yeah, a front door. Most houses have one.” A thin brow popped up. “You weren’t going to put one up?”
He burst out into laughter. “I can take care of that when we get back.” No one could say he wasn’t a generous man. He wanted her to feel safe so he’d have to do some sanding and planing but it’d be up by evening.
He gave her a quick glance before he backed up. “You cold?”
“A little.” Her tongue came out to sweep across her plush bottom lip. A few pieces of hair had fallen around her flushed cheeks.
He pressed the temperature button to low. “The AC works like a charm in this girl.”
She clicked her seat belt into place. “Nice ride you have here. What is it? A Silverado? What’s the HD?”
Goose necking, he grinned. So the lady knew her vehicles? “2500.”
“Best choice for heavy duty hauling, right? I bet she runs like a dream.” She swept her hand over the pristine dashboard. “Silver ice metallic?”
“Yeah. No offense, but how do you know so much about trucks? Most women I know wouldn’t care what color it is let alone what’s under the hood.”
“Maybe you’re picking the wrong women,” she teased. “Mom was a car saleswoman. Sometimes I’d go to work with her and I guess I caught on to all the shop talk. I handled buying my first car all by myself and even came out paying five grand less than the original price. It was a pretty black Mustang with red flames on each side.”
“Wow. A muscle car. I’m impressed.” He pulled out of the lane and drove the truck on the winding curves of the back road, taking sneak peeks of her across the wide cab. Her hands were planted on her thighs and she wore no rings, no jewelry, not even earrings. She had a small cross with a verse on the inside of her left wrist. “Do you still own it?”
“No. Sold it soon after—”
“Soon after what?”
“I bought an SUV.”
He got the feeling she wasn’t an open book when it came to certain subjects. He wouldn’t pry.
Once they reached the town limits, he pointed out a few buildings. “There’s the library. There’s the jail house. And the hardware store where I need to grab a few things.” He drove to the light. “Down at the end of this street is the corner market. Would you like me to drop you off there?”
“I saw a boutique I’d like to check out. If you don’t mind letting me out here I can walk.”
“Sure.” He pulled over next to the sidewalk. “I’m heading back to the hardware. How about we meet at the market in an hour?”
“Sure. By the way, I’m not sure when you’re buying paint for the house, but I have a perfect color that will draw in all that amazing light.”
He didn’t mind any suggestions. “Yeah?” Expecting her to pull out a picture, he was a bit shocked when she handed him a scarf from her purse. He narrowed his gaze on her. “Grey?”
“It’s not just grey. It’s a shade of grey. Anyway, it’s just a suggestion.” A car beeped behind them. “I better go. See you in an hour.” She slid out and shut the door. He watched her walk up the sidewalk with a nice sway. Without thinking, he brought the scarf to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent in the material. Feeling an awakening below his belt, he dropped the cloth on the passenger seat. Another beep sounded, this time the driver laid on the horn. “Go around,” he muttered.<
br />
Growling under his breath, he stepped on the gas and did a U-turn, giving the belligerent driver a smirk as he passed.
Parking in front of the hardware store, he started to climb out when he remembered the scarf. Reluctantly, he grabbed it. He did like the color. It wasn’t too dark or too light.
The store was quiet as he pushed through the glass door and the short, stocky man behind the counter lifted his head up. When he saw Ruger his eyes lit. “Back again, my friend?”
“Back again, Joe. Sometimes I think I might need to set up camp outside your door.”
“You’re probably ready for some paint, aren’t you?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. I also need a few other things. Ma’s toilet is backed up again.”
“I told her she needs to do some plumbing work before things get worse.”
“She’s holding off as long as possible.” Ruger laid the scarf on the counter. “Can you mix up paint this color?”
“I bet this brings the color out in your eyes,” Joe teased.
“Funny. So can you?” Ruger had an entire list of things to accomplish today and he was in a hurry.
“No problem.”
Taking a guess at the number of gallons he needed because he hadn’t planned to buy any today, he placed the order and while Joe worked Ruger searched through the aisles. As he came back to set his armful on the counter to be rung up, Essie, Joe’s wife of over thirty years, greeted Ruger.
“Afternoon. How are things at the ranch?” Essie was a short, round woman with salt and pepper spiked hair. She always wore a friendly smile, but he knew she and her friends like to discuss more than the weather at the Friday night Bingo games. They kept the rumor mill spinning and Ruger wanted no part of it. He’d suffered his fair share after the divorce.
“They’re moving along,” Ruger replied politely.
“Is that your new gal I saw when I was driving by? She climbed out of that pretty truck of yours and went into the boutique.”
“That’s my employee. Grace.” Ruger wasn’t shocked at the question. The small town liked to dabble in his relationship status, ever since Bren left. He didn’t like having his personal life on display like roadkill to vultures.
Cowboy Wilde (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 2) Page 6