Lonesome Ryder: Lonesome Ryder / Restaurant Romeo
Carol Finch
Meet the bachelor cousins of Hoot's Roost, Oklahoma, where love comes sweepin' down the plain!Lonesome Ryder? by Carol FinchRun over by a stampeding bull and bulldozed by a cheating ex-wife, rancher Wade Ryder doesn't want anything to do with women. Too bad for him that his tricky cousins decide a woman is just what he needs. They've hired gorgeous Laura Seymour to keep house for ol' Wade until he recuperates. Will this headstrong beauty temper the surly beast? Or will Ryder be lonesome tonight?Restaurant Romeo by Carol FinchMeat 'n taters were just fine for the menfolk of Hoot's Roost. But when Stephanie Lawson turns her family's diner into a five-star restaurant–with the female population's approval–a battle of the sexes seems about to ensue. But the men have a secret weapon–ladies' man and cowboy Quint Ryder. His mission is to use his legendary charm to seduce headstrong Stephanie into changing her haute cuisine back to blue-plate specials. However, Stephanie seems to be the one woman immune to his charm. Will Quint win her heart…or die trying like that other Romeo?
Duets™
Two brand-new stories in every volume…twice a month!
Duets Vol. #81
Popular author Carol Finch takes us to Hoot’s Roost, Oklahoma, where there are quite a few single cowboys who don’t give a hoot about marryin’. But when two sexy city girls show up in town, that changes everything. Enjoy Carol’s funny, romantic Double Duets stories about The Bachelors of Hoot’s Roost—where love comes sweeping down the plain!
Duets Vol. #82
Delightful Tina Wainscott is back with another quirky Duets novel where the hero is driven to distraction by the gorgeous free-spirited heroine living next door! Tina tells “a charming story full of love and laughter,” says Rendezvous. Joining her in the volume is talented Candy Halliday with a story about a pilot hero who’s always winging it when it comes to relationships. It takes a special woman to bring this guy down to earth!
Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!
Lonesome Ryder?
Restaurant Romeo
Carol Finch
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Lonesome Ryder? (#u6c0af667-c6b2-5930-9c96-768788f391ee)
Chapter 1 (#u1f8450ff-3f97-52af-862c-b948ec8b122b)
Chapter 2 (#u0b525695-14b1-56de-b48c-0ffa12edf74f)
Chapter 3 (#u6e82e5b4-7aaf-5133-a1c9-c0ebe6c74a50)
Chapter 4 (#ue6643498-eb75-5f4d-8f3d-e09a23ae7044)
Chapter 5 (#ub2a4c9f3-ba6e-546b-a416-93a87fc61a82)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Restaurant Romeo (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Lonesome Ryder?
“The last thing I wanted was to be laid up and have a woman under my roof!”
Laura regarded Wade through her narrowed gaze. “So, you’re saying that you’re afraid of women.”
“I’m saying nothing of the kind,” he said, highly affronted. “You’re all of five foot nothing and I’m six-three in my stocking feet. Whaddya gonna do? Break my other leg?”
“I’m not referring to physical fight,” she clarified. “I’m talking about emotional terror. You figured you couldn’t make a woman happy so why try, right? It’s easier to give up, to quit.” She turned toward him then, all fierce determination. “Well, I’m not a quitter, Mr. Ryder. Now, go take a load off while I whip up supper,” she ordered, shooing him on his way.
Wade was so surprised by the unexpected turn of events that he was halfway across the room before he realized he’d allowed her to boss him around. Hell!
He didn’t want to share his personal space with a female, especially one as tempting as Laura. He wanted her to vamoose—pronto. He’d push and prod until she lost her temper and spit out the four-letter Q word. Then he’d have her exactly where he wanted her…besides naked in his bed….
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Hoot’s Roost, Oklahoma, where Wade Ryder has no intention of letting the love bug take a bite out of him ever again. He lives in a female-free domain of cattle and horses—until he’s laid up by a ranching accident. Suddenly he’s saddled with a temporary housekeeper and that’s when the trouble starts. Laura Seymour is irresistible, but Wade has a broken leg already, and the last thing he needs is a broken heart. He’s about to discover that the love of one very special woman can cure just about everything.
In the second story, cousin Quint Ryder, the ladies’ man, meets his match in a sassy redheaded restaurateur who’s immune to his flattery. His legendary reputation with women is on the line when the locals appoint him to charm Stephanie Lawson into converting her fancy-schmancey restaurant back into a blue-collar café so everyone can enjoy the former menu of meat ’n taters. Can Quint wrap her around his little finger? Or will Steph wrap Quint in a French crepe and serve him up as the Special of the Day? Or will they discover that love’ll getcha if you don’t watch out!
Enjoy!
Carol Finch
Books by Carol Finch
HARLEQUIN DUETS
36—FIT TO BE TIED
45—A REGULAR JOE
62—MR. PREDICTABLE
72—THE FAMILY FEUD
HARLEQUIN HISTORICALS
592—CALL OF THE WHITE WOLF
SILHOUETTE SPECIAL EDITION
1242—NOT JUST ANOTHER COWBOY
1320—SOUL MATES
This book is dedicated to my husband, Ed, and our children—Christie, Jill, Kurt, Jeff and Jon. And to our grandchildren—Brooklynn, Kennedy, Blake and Livia. Hugs and kisses!
1
THE MOMENT SHE WALKED through his front door, Wade Ryder knew this situation had disaster written all over it in screaming neon letters. Even worse, his first cousins, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, were waggling their eyebrows and grinning like the idiots they were as they swaggered behind the blond-haired, blue-eyed knockout who was to become Wade’s temporary cook and housekeeper at the ranch.
The goddess in designer jeans and a trim-fitting pink knit blouse smiled politely. When her baby blues twinkled down on Wade everything inside him tightened like a saddle cinch and alarm bells clanged in his head. He swore under his breath at the immediate effect the woman had on him. She was the picture-perfect image of style, class and refined elegance. She was one hundred percent woman—all tantalizing curves and generously proportioned swells. In a word—dangerous.
From unpleasant experience Wade knew that the more attractive the woman the more perks and privileges she demanded—expected—from a man. Yup, this female was pure venom in denim and she was going to be trouble, no doubt about it!
Anger and resentment roiled through Wade while he sat in his recliner, beaten down by life’s unexpected pit-falls. He looked crumpled and wrinkled, while the gorgeous female appeared fresh, wholesome and so spiffy that he wanted to muss her up, just so he’d feel better about himself. And that made him feel worse about himself so he directed his frustration to her. It was a vicious cycle, to be sure.
Wade felt as bad as he looked. A plaster cast encased his left leg from below his kneecap to his toes. A sling and splint held his sprained left wrist and throbbing arm against his tender ribs. His hair was ruffled from raking his one good hand through the thick black mass that begged for a long-overdue haircut. His left eye was a putrid shade of purple. He felt trampled and battered—which he had been, literally. He also felt as if all his frailties, insecurities and vulnerabilities were exposed to the world, and especially to this woman who’d invaded his private male sanctuary.
Wade’s gaze swung from the smiling goddess to his traitorous, mischievous cousins. “Leave everything to us, cuz,” they’d said. Wade had gone along with their bright idea, only because he’d been in so much pain and misery that he barely knew who or where he was. Big mistake.
His cousins, Vance and Quint Ryder, knew he’d sworn off women—and with excellent reason—six years ago. So naturally, the ornery rascals thought it’d be great fun to kick him while he was down. Damn their hides. They were standing behind the goddess who was every man’s fantasy come true, making no attempt whatsoever to swallow their stupid grins or display the slightest bit of sympathy for his mangled condition. Well, as soon as Wade was up and around again, he was going to kick his cousins’ butts and make them like it!
Quint Ryder, the legendary ladies’ man of the family, cast one last gawking glance at the goddess’s shapely derriere then stepped forward to make the introductions. “Laura Seymour, this is our cousin, Wade Ryder.” He grinned outrageously for Wade’s benefit. “Vance and I found the perfect temporary cook and housekeeper while you’re recuperating. She’s the answer to your prayers.”
Quint’s grin was as wide as the Oklahoma panhandle and Wade itched to punch that expression off his cousin’s face. This woman wasn’t the answer to Wade’s prayers; she was his worst nightmare. He preferred a miraculous recovery, not a tempting female underfoot.
When Wade reluctantly agreed to temp help he’d sort of envisioned the modern version of Alice from The Brady Bunch. Instead he got Miss June from Playboy magazine. Hell! He just couldn’t catch a break.
Wade ground his teeth—which had practically been jarred out of his head during the ranching accident that left him virtually helpless. It wasn’t a feeling he was comfortable with. Having her in his home, emphasized those feelings of frustrated uselessness and helplessness—in spades. Wade prided himself in being capable, independent and self-reliant. Now, everything he was, and strove to be, had a discolored bruise on it and he had to rely on a crutch to ensure his balance.
Damn that Black Angus bull that had run right over the top of him then tried to make mincemeat of him. That beast was hamburger!
The bombshell with the peaches-and-cream complexion—and not one bruise or flaw to mar her bewitching face—stepped forward and extended her hand. “I’m sorry to hear about your accident. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Ryder.”
“Is it? What’s so nice about it?” Wade stared at her well-manicured hand, as if she were trying to foist off a three-day-old dead fish. He wasn’t going to permit physical contact because he had no intention of keeping her. He didn’t want to touch her or see her again—ever.
Her hand just sort of hung there in midair before she realized there wouldn’t be any shaking going on. Wade acquainted her with his fiercest glare and stared her down until her smile faltered and she backed away self-consciously. His conscience tried to beat him black and blue because of his rude behavior, but what was one more bruise on his battered body, he asked himself.
Vance Ryder, the playful practical joker of the family, stepped front and center to smooth over the awkward situation, but Wade had no intention of making it easy on his cousin.
“As you can tell, Laura, our cuz isn’t in a happy place right now. His severe pain is making him surly. Don’t pay Wade any mind. He’ll be more sociable when he’s feeling better.”
“No, I won’t,” Wade contradicted grouchily. “This is as good as I ever get.” For effect, he flashed Ms. Forbidden Temptation another lethal glare. Her smile evaporated and she stared warily at him. A little timid, was she? Good. He could scare her off with very little effort. He had her at a disadvantage because she was in his home with a room full of strangers and she was trying her best to be polite.
Vance’s fake laugh filled the silence then he said, “Wade’s just kidding around.” His narrowed, warning gaze locked on Wade. “Aren’t you, cuz?”
“Yeah,” Wade growled, teeth bared. “This is how I look and act when I’m kidding around. You don’t wanna be around here when I’m in a really bad mood. Now, why don’t you take a hike, lady, so I can have a private chat with my cousins.”
Laura’s head snapped up and her eyes flashed. She opened her mouth then must have thought better of lighting into him because she clamped her lips together and held her tongue. Obviously offended, she strode quickly out the door.
Wade instantly understood why Vance and Quint had trailed behind Laura. Her designer jeans clung to the curve of her tush as if they’d been tailor-made to fit her hourglass physique. The mesmerizing sway of those denim-clad hips drew Wade’s gaze and held it fast. He had to give himself a mental slap before he could drag his attention to his cousins.
“Did we do good or what?” Quint murmured as his all-consuming gaze followed Laura until she disappeared from sight. He sighed dramatically. “That’s one fine-looking, USDA prime-choice female, Wade. Almost makes me wish I’d been the one run over by a bull so Laura could take care of me.”
“I want her out of here, pronto,” Wade snapped. “You know I’ve sworn off women and I don’t her want underfoot.”
“Aw, c’mon, cuz,” Vance cajoled. “Laura is perfect for this temporary position. She’s going to take a new job teaching math and computer science at the high school in Hoot’s Roost this fall, so she has the summer free for this short-term employment. As a bonus she can update your computer programs for your livestock and expense accounts. Plus, she hasn’t found a place to live, so she can give you round-the-clock attention. She’ll be doing you a service and you’ll be helping her out by providing room and board.”
“What!” Wade howled in disbelief. “You expect me to have that woman at my ranch 24/7? No freakin’ way!”
“Simmer down,” Quint spoke up. “You have enough injuries without sending your blood pressure into the red zone.”
“I should’ve had my head examined when I agreed to send a notorious ladies’ man and a world-class practical joker to locate a temporary housekeeper. I didn’t much like the idea to begin with and I like it even less now. That woman is not staying at my ranch. Discussion over!”
Quint’s perpetual smile turned upside down as he loomed over Wade. “She’s staying here,” he said in no uncertain terms. “Your accident happened at my ranch and it was Vance’s cantankerous bull that stomped all over you, so we feel responsible. Furthermore, you stepped in front of us like a shield when that cursed bull came after us when we separated him from his harem of cows. You received extra points for heroism for that maneuver and you took the brunt of abuse that bull dealt out.”
“Therefore,” Vance put in as he came to loom beside Quint, “we are paying Laura’s salary because that’s only fair. We made a pact years back to trade off our work and share our ranch chores so we could cut down on the expenses of hiring extra help during cattle drives, branding, inoculation, hauling livestock to market and planting crops. That was the deal. When one of us needs help the other two assist. We share our tractors, machinery, corrals and breeding stock.”
Yeah, they did, Wade silently agreed. The arrangement had worked splendidly and saved time and expenses—until he’d ended up in the emergency room at Hoot’s Roost Hospital and was informed by the doctor on duty that he’d be taking a forced vacation for the next six to eight weeks.
“You can growl, snarl and fuss at us all you want,” Quint invited, “but Laura Seymour isn’t leaving until we say so. You can’t fire her because we hired her. I suppose you could put her up in your hired man’s bunkhouse, but that’d make you look more ungrateful and unappreciative than you do now.”
If Quint thought the remark would jump-start Wade’s conscience he could forget it. Wade’s conscience had disowned him about fifteen minutes earlier. “Fine, put my new housekeeper’s luggage in Duff’s cabin. She can cook in his cracker-box kitchen and tote my meals up to the house.”
Vance rolled his eyes in disgust. “C’mon, Wade. Duff doesn’t even have a dishwasher. The appliance he refers to as a stove only has one functioning burner and the temperature regulator on the oven doesn’t work.”
“Plus,” Quint added, “Duff’s washing machine is almost an antique. Hell, it doesn’t agitate as easily as you do. You can’t make Laura haul laundry and meals from the bunkhouse to here. That’d be cruel and unusual punishment.”
Wade sighed audibly. Okay. So he was overreacting—a little. Maybe. But he still didn’t want that woman underfoot. Hell, he could still smell the lingering scent of her perfume. If he dared to shut his eyes he predicted he’d see Laura’s alluring vision standing in the sunlight that streamed through the east window, making her blond hair glitter like spun gold. She looked too dainty and refined to fit into life on a working ranch. She also appeared too petite to haul around heavy loads of laundry and move furniture to dust and vacuum. No, she looked like the kind of woman who needed—expected—to be waited on hand and foot by a man.
“Now, you be nice to Laura,” Quint ordered, wagging his index finger in Wade’s face. “Vance and I are doing you a favor by giving you time to recuperate. We’ve got cattle—yours as well as ours—to brand and inoculate. We don’t have time to keep house, feed you and do your laundry. I don’t have to tell you that this is one of our busiest times of the year.”
No, he didn’t, Wade thought sourly. He was going to be sitting here, feeling as if he’d let his cousins down while they busted their fannies working cattle, swathing and baling hay to provide winter forage. Wade was used to working hard, right alongside his cousins. Inactivity was going to drive him nuts. Having Laura Seymour— and he preferred to See Less of her—would drive him straight down the road to Nutsville.
“We’re not budging on this,” Vance said. His customary good-natured smile was suddenly nonexistent and he stared somberly at Wade. “Laura is here to stay so you better get used to the idea. We’ll be around to check on you, same as you’d do if one of us was laid up, because family’s family and we stick together through thin and thick.”
“Damn straight,” Quint chimed in. “We’re doing this for your own good.” True to form, Quint couldn’t remain serious overly long and his famous lady-killer grin returned full force. “Besides, cuz, that new high school teacher is hot and there hasn’t been a woman in your house, aside from your mother and our mothers, for six years.”
“Exactly right and I’d planned to keep it that way until you two bozos decided to have a little fun at my expense,” Wade grumbled bitterly. “Just remember that payback’s a bitch and I’ll definitely be repaying you for this stunt.”
His cousins shrugged, undaunted, and Quint said, “Bring it on, cuz. Just don’t forget that when we rodeoed together we were every bit as tough as you, so you better bring along your lunch, ’cause it’ll take you all day to pound us both flat.”
Wade was aware that pounding his cousins into the ground would require considerable time and effort. When he and his cousins followed the rodeo’s suicide circuit nobody messed with the Ryder cousins who’d been all for one and one for all—still were. Same went for Cousin Gage who’d traveled the circuit with them. When one of them got banged up or broke a bone while riding broncs or bulldogging the other three covered as best they could. They pooled their winnings, shared expenses and helped each other through hard times.
Right now, Wade should be feeling grateful for the loyalty and support, but the prospect of having a woman in his home after all these years was setting as well as an indigestible meal on a queasy stomach.
A thought suddenly occurred to Wade that made him feel a smidgen better. Maybe he couldn’t fire the goddess who’d been hired to keep house while he recuperated, but he could antagonize her until she quit. It wouldn’t take much, he predicted confidently. He’d leveled one mutinous glare on her earlier and she’d backed off.
Like most women, she’d be outta here when the going got tough—and he’d make sure it did. If Little Miss Schoolmarm thought she’d taken a cushy job and latched onto a prosperous rancher as an added bonus then she better think again. He already had one ex-wife’s memory to remind him that women weren’t worth the trouble. He’d also had enough rodeo groupies hovering around him to know females were only interested in what a cowboy had in his wallet—and his blue jeans.
Yes indeedy, Laura Seymour would be as good as gone after Wade made things difficult for her. He’d give her two days. Three days tops. She’d pack her bags and hightail it into Hoot’s Roost to rent an apartment.
“Okay, fine,” Wade agreed begrudgingly. “She can stay…for a while.”
“Great!” Vance and Quint chorused.
Quint spun on his boot heels and headed for the front door. “I’ll bring in Laura’s luggage.”
“And I’ll help,” Vance insisted then shot Wade a mischievous grin. “We’ll put her stuff in the bedroom next door to yours so you can call for help…if you need some in the middle of the night.”
Need some in the middle of the night? Wade clenched his one good hand into a fist as his cousins swaggered off, cackling like a couple of hens. “Ornery cusses,” he muttered at his cousins’ departing backs. He was in the middle of a full-blown crisis and they were busting a gut laughing—at his expense. They didn’t have a clue how he’d felt when Bobbie Lynn betrayed him, rejected him, deceived him and ran off with her new lover. If that wasn’t enough to sour a man on women then Wade didn’t know what was.
These days, Wade rebelled and withdrew the instant he felt a serious attraction to a woman. And he’d damn sure felt the hum and sizzle of physical awareness the instant Laura Seymour entered the room and stood there in the shaft of sunlight that spotlighted every appealing feature of her face and emphasized the voluptuous curves on her body.
Ms. Temptation had definitely arrived on the scene and Wade wanted her gone—ASAP. He’d built a six-strand barbed wire fence around his heart after Bobbie Lynn hurt and mortified him. Wade wasn’t going through that again—ever. He mistrusted the female gender, lost all respect for women and he wanted nothing to do with them, aside from the occasional gratification of sexual needs. And since he was in no condition to satisfy basic lust he didn’t want to share his space with Laura Seymour, goddess extraordinaire.
He’d manage to take care of himself—somehow. He didn’t want Laura laundering, handling his underwear and attacking his pet dust bunnies that hid under his furniture. What he wanted was to get her out of his house—pronto.
LAURA SEYMOUR DRAPED her arms over the top rail of the pipe-and-cable corral and battled her irritation with Wade Ryder while she stared at the cattle grazing on the rolling Oklahoma hills. This ranch was so peaceful and serene that she momentarily forgot about her less than pleasant introduction to Wade. If not for that rude, unsociable cowboy-in-a-cast, this temp job would’ve been absolutely perfect for her.
She muttered under her breath, remembering the menacing expression on Wade’s handsome face the moment she walked through his front door. The look he directed at her implied that he’d like to book her on a one-way express flight to a place where the hottest of climates prevailed.
She tried to tell herself that the hostility and resentment radiating from Wade Ryder wasn’t a personal affront. His pain and frustration, caused by incapacity and injury, must’ve given rise to his black mood, she diagnosed. She’d never caused such an adverse reaction to anyone—that she could recall, leastwise.
When he’d dismissed her so rudely she’d been tempted to lash out at him, but she’d been trying to make a good first impression. Apparently she hadn’t. Wade had looked and behaved as if he disliked her on sight. Ironically he’d had the opposite effect on her. In addition, she’d been distracted by the astonishing family resemblance between the three men who looked more like brothers than first cousins.
According to Quint Ryder there was another first cousin named Gage who was out of the country on business and rented his ranch to them during his absence. She wondered if Gage was as ruggedly handsome as his other cousins. Probably.
Laura had never been in a room with so many strikingly attractive men—excluding her four older brothers. While her brothers were the collective picture of suave sophistication and refined good looks, the Ryder cousins were the personification of tall, dark and devilishly handsome. Yet, it was Wade Ryder, looking rumpled, surly and vulnerable, who’d drawn her curiosity and interest. She couldn’t recall feeling such an immediate attraction to a man before. Something about him simply called out to her on a basic level.
Not that her attraction to him mattered, Laura reminded herself sensibly. Attracted or not, she was here to fill a temporary position that would enable her to make a down payment on the quaint little farmhouse she’d seen for sale when she drove into Hoot Owl’s Roost—or Hoot’s Roost as the locals referred to the rural community. She’d fallen in love with the house immediately and she intended to accumulate the money to make the farm her own—by her own means, without the unwanted assistance of her overprotective brothers who’d probably find all sorts of fault with the house.
Moving to Oklahoma was a declaration of independence from her well-meaning but smothering brothers. Laura wanted to prove to herself, and to her brothers, that she could manage her life and make sensible decisions without her brothers’ constant input. That was another reason why this summer job and this situation with Wade was so important to Laura. She could reassure her brothers that she could handle herself around a man without falling head over heels for the first one she met—one who hadn’t been screened and checked out by her brothers.
“Laura?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Quint and Vance sauntering downhill, looking more devastatingly handsome than any two men had a right to, smiling the kind of smiles that made females from eight to eighty sigh in appreciation. All that glossy raven hair and those swarthy physiques wrapped in chambray, denim and leather were impossible to ignore. But in Laura’s opinion, Wade Ryder was the biggest, baddest, most dangerous heartthrob of all. And why? Because she detected a hint of vulnerability and defensiveness about him that she identified with. Because he was far from perfect and she’d spent too much time around her all-too-perfect brothers who put Mary Poppins to shame.
“The job’s yours,” Quint announced. “We put your luggage in a spare bedroom. We’ll be around at the end of the week to check on Wade and see how you’re managing with him.”
Laura smiled gratefully. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate your company. I’ll see that his household runs smoothly while he recuperates.”
Vance grinned slyly. “You might offer Wade a massage every now and then,” he suggested. “He’s sore and achy after my bull steamrollered over him.”
“Plus, Wade’s home could use a cheery touch,” Quint inserted with a smile. “You know, a few bouquets of wildflowers, all the windows flung open wide to allow plenty of light and fresh air, that sort of thing.”
“And change things around a bit,” Vance added. “The place has looked the same way for years. New furniture arrangements might perk him up a little.”
Laura frowned when the Ryder cousins exchanged amused glances. “Sure. No problem. I can handle that.”
“Well, then, we’ll get to work and leave you and Wade to get acquainted.” Quint touched the brim of his hat and nodded politely. “See ya in a few days. We’ll be back to inoculate Wade’s cattle for him.”
“Bye, Laura,” Vance said with a wave and a grin.
When the men climbed into the fire-engine red pickup and roared off in a cloud of dust, Laura squared her shoulders, stiffened her resolve and headed for the house to unpack her belongings. She was going to be helpful and cheerful and prove to Wade that she wasn’t an unwanted inconvenience in his home. He’d find no fault with her, she vowed. She’d take her job seriously and put in a hard day’s work for a hard day’s pay.
This would be no different than the first week of a new school year, she mused as she strode toward the sprawling ranch-style brick home on the hill. It always took her and her students several days to get acquainted and for them to adjust to her way of conducting class. It took a week for her to evaluate the various personalities of her students and determine the best way to deal with them. The same held true for Wade Ryder. In a week she’d know how to handle him and her duties. Things at the ranch would run like a well-oiled machine, she convinced herself.
Mentally prepared, Laura pasted on a smile and ventured inside the house. Wade was still ensconced in the massive leather recliner in his very masculine, no-frills living room. The ranch décor, with landscape paintings of rolling hills, rustic barns and grazing livestock, fit this rugged rancher, Laura decided. The room lacked a woman’s touch and the heavy drapes were drawn—save the one window near the front door. She’d take Vance and Quint’s suggestion to give this dark room an open, visitor-friendly appearance.
“What the hell do you have in those three coffins my cousins dragged in here? Dead bodies?” Wade asked abruptly.
The snide questions and the harsh tone in which they were delivered caused Laura’s smile to wither on her lips. She halted in midstep. “Coffins?” she repeated, bemused.
“Yeah, those coffin-size suitcases,” he said, grimacing as he leaned sideways to retrieve the glass of ice water on the end table. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a ranch, not a resort hotel that requires scads of fancy clothes to attend scheduled activities. A couple of pairs of faded jeans and T-shirts are all you need.”
Laura reflexively flinched at his catty insinuation that her country-club attire, packed in those coffin-size suitcases—as he referred to them—was inappropriate for her new job. If Wade was trying to aggravate her, he’d succeeded. While it was true that she came from a privileged background she never flaunted wealth and she certainly didn’t consider herself better than anyone else. But one look in Wade’s direction indicated that he thought that she thought she was just a step below royalty and hadn’t put in a day’s work in her life. That was nowhere near accurate. She and her brothers prided themselves in being hard workers. Wade had no right whatsoever to presume anything about her when they’d only just met.
Man, this guy was a real piece of work! He might be as handsome as sin but he acted like the very devil!
“I’ll go unpack,” she said between her teeth as she made a beeline across the spacious room.
“That’ll probably take you the rest of the day,” he said, then smirked. “I guess I can forget about your squeezing in time to scrounge up something for my supper.”
The smart-ass comment brought her up short. She glanced back at those glittering green eyes that shouted disapproval and animosity. “My job description is to cook, clean and ensure you take care of yourself during your recuperation, Mr. Ryder,” she said in a tone she usually reserved for ill-mannered students. “Supper will definitely be served. What time do you usually eat?”
He scoffed, as if she’d asked a stupid question. “This is a ranch, Seymour. You’ve obviously never been within shouting distance of one before, or else you’d know that supper is scheduled around chores that always come first.”
She smiled in mock sweetness. “And obviously you won’t be attending your usual chores for a while.” Her rejoinder caused his brows to bunch up on his scratched forehead, which gave her a small degree of satisfaction. “Therefore, we can establish a schedule for eating and you can depend on my having food on the table at dinnertime. Now, I’ll ask again, Mr. Ryder, what time would you like to eat this evening?”
“Six forty-five,” he grunted, then wet his whistle with ice water.
Laura was pretty sure the same said liquid flowed through the man’s veins. What a foul-tempered bear he was! He might have rugged sex appeal oozing from his pores and a body like nobody’s business, but he had the disposition of a wounded grizzly and he was making no effort to make her feel wanted or welcome.
“Fine, six forty-five it is,” she said.
“Good. I’ll eat in here…in my recliner…by myself.”
He made it crystal clear that he didn’t want or need her company. Not that she cared, of course. She’d rather eat in a cafeteria with a bunch of teenage students during a food fight than dine with him anyway.
When she walked off he jacked up the volume of the TV where an old Western, starring John Wayne, was playing. If he was trying to annoy her, he was doomed to disappointment this time. She was a John Wayne fan from way back and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance was one of her favorites.
Liberty Valance had nothing on Wade Ryder, she decided on her way down the hall. Both men leaned toward mean and nasty and deserved a good shooting.
2
LAURA NEATLY STACKED HER underwear and socks in the empty dresser and hung her clothes in the walk-in closet. Pensively she contemplated ways to give the living area a more welcoming appearance. For sure, she’d let plenty of light into that dark room, place scented candles and potpourri on the end tables and fill the area with vases of wildflowers. Then she’d rearrange the furniture to give the room better balance.
Laura stashed her suitcases in the corner of the closet then hiked off to appraise the kitchen and check to see what kind of food was on hand for supper. She was pleased to find an ultramodern kitchen at her disposal, but the reckless arrangement of food in the cabinets offended her sense of order. She set about organizing the boxes, cans and jars in alphabetical order so she wouldn’t waste valuable time rummaging to locate items while cooking.
She was halfway through the process when Wade hobbled into the kitchen on his crutch and braced his battered body against the doorjamb. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he all but roared at her.
Refusing to let him rile her, Laura pivoted and tossed him a high-voltage smile. “I’m reorganizing the kitchen.”
“It was the fine the way it was,” he grouched. “I’ll never find a damn thing now.”
“You won’t have to because I’m in charge of KP duty for the next six to eight weeks,” she reminded him, striving for a noncombative tone—which wasn’t easy since he was glaring thunderclouds on her sunny smile.
“You’re working here, not taking over the place,” he growled. “Put that stuff back where it was…now.”
Even bruised and mauled, the man could still come off looking ominous and intimidating. Laura forced herself not to shrink away from him the way she’d done when they first met. Learning to hold her own was good practice, she realized. Her fairy godbrothers were no longer waving their magic wands, paving the way for her and running interference. She’d landed her new teaching position by herself and she was taking absolute control of her life for the first time in twenty-five years. Wade was a test of her character and gumption and she had no intention of failing the test.
“When my employment is terminated I’ll arrange your kitchen the way you had it.” She gestured carelessly toward the cabinets. “I’ll cram stuff on the shelves so you’ll have to waste time locating ingredients. Happy now, Mr. Ryder?”
“No,” he mumbled, shooting her a disgruntled glance.
Admirably she shrugged off his hostility and resumed the task of arranging items that began with N. Silence reigned for several moments while she progressed through O and P and skipped over Q to place a box of rice on the shelf.
“Where’re you from, Seymour? You don’t speak Oklahoman.”
“Colorado.” She plunked down the spaghetti sauce next to the rice.
“What happened? Did the school administration fire you and you had to leave the state to outrun your reputation?”
Laura gnashed her teeth as she swiveled around to meet Wade’s insolent smirk. The man didn’t know how close he’d come to having a jar of spaghetti sauce smack him right between his moss-green eyes. “No, as a matter of fact I come highly recommended by my principal.”
She had no idea why she was defending herself to him. She certainly didn’t owe him an explanation and he didn’t deserve one. She’d never had acceptance issues with her associates, either. Most people gravitated toward her friendly, nonconfrontational nature. All except His Grouchiness. He seemed to derive wicked pleasure from provoking her.
“No doubt, you came with all sorts of recommendations,” he said in a tone that implied scandalous activities. “Did the principal’s wife resent the competition? Did you move on before she stamped a scarlet letter on your forehead?”
Laura quivered with outrage. The horrible man had the audacity to stand there, assassinating her character, judging her by his lowlife standards and condemning her in one felled swoop. “I was not having an affair with my principal,” she defended hotly. “For your information my principal was a she!”
“Gad, that’s even worse,” he said distastefully.
The man was insufferable! “I came here to be on my own and work in the same school system with my college roommate, not that it’s any of your business,” she all but shouted.
Wade shook his tousled raven head. “I’ve got a news flash for you, Seymour, the PTA isn’t going to approve of striking up your old affair with your college roommate, either.”
Laura didn’t know what possessed her to react so violently to his goading. Her ability to apply restraint and self-control, after years of dealing with challenging students, failed her completely. Before she realized what she’d done, the container of salt that she had clenched in her fist was sailing across the room and smacked Wade squarely in the chest. With a horrified gasp, she watched him stare at the container that plopped on the tiled floor. He turned his death-ray glare on her and Laura’s face flushed with mortification. Damn it, she’d let him get to her.
With extreme effort, Wade doubled over to retrieve the salt container then tossed it back to her. “I guess you don’t think I’m injured in enough places already, huh?”
Regretful and embarrassed, Laura emitted an inarticulate sound and refused to meet his mocking gaze.
He smiled wickedly, then added, “I’ll bet your résumé failed to mention that you’re prone to violence when provoked. How many students have you clobbered when they’ve managed to tick you off, Seymour?”
Laura was so frustrated and angry that she was shaking. Her heart jackhammered in her chest, spurred by an overdose of adrenaline. She wanted to grab this infuriating rascal by the throat and strangle him for making her lose her temper. She almost never lost her temper. But Wade Ryder, the devil incarnate, had witnessed her complete loss of control.
“You aren’t going to let loose with the waterworks, too, are you?” he taunted. “If you’re going to cloud up and rain every day, I’ll make sure I have flood insurance.”
“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of seeing me cry,” she snapped at him. “Just go away.”
“Nope, this is my house and my kitchen.”
“Fine then, I qu—” Laura shut her mouth so fast she nearly cropped off the tip of her tongue. No matter what the man said to her, no matter how often he goaded and insulted her, she wasn’t going to quit. She wanted this job. She needed this job for a dozen good reasons.
He arched a dark, challenging brow, daring her to complete that sentence. “Yes, Seymour? You were saying?”
Laura might not have been the modern-day version of Einstein, but she was smart enough to deduce that A: Wade Ryder didn’t like her. And B: He didn’t want her crowding his private space. And C: He was trying to provoke her into quitting her new job before she had twenty-four hours under her belt. She didn’t understand why he wanted her gone because she didn’t know him well enough to determine what made him tick. But, for pure contrariness alone, she wasn’t giving this cantankerous rancher the satisfaction of hearing her say she quit. She wasn’t a quitter and she’d dealt with troublesome students during her four years of teaching at the elite private school in Colorado—a job her brothers had pulled a few strings to secure for her….
The thought served to bolster her firm resolve. She was going to tough it out on her own, no matter how snide and sarcastic Wade Ryder proved to be. She wasn’t a wuss, even though most of her former students weren’t in the juvenile delinquent category of kids who tested her temper and challenged her authority on a daily basis—not like Mr. I’m-Gonna-Give-You-Hell-Just-To-See-If-You-Can-Take-It Ryder. No matter how mad he made her—and he’d made her plenty mad already—she wouldn’t quit. She’d stay, if only to aggravate him.
“I’m not quitting,” she told him as she squared her shoulders and tilted her chin to a determined angle. The fact that she was trembling with frustration probably detracted from her defiant stance, but she’d get better at dealing with this rascal. Now that she knew he was deliberately trying to get rid of her, she’d refuse to take him seriously, wouldn’t allow him to annoy her. In fact, she could be as disagreeable as he was if she really tried.
“If you aren’t quitting then you better toughen up,” he goaded her. “I have no intention of letting up on you.”
“Why? Because it goes against your sour, surly nature to be nice to people?” she flung back.
Wade didn’t so much as flinch when she flashed him a smirk. With jerky, agitated motions, she resumed stocking the kitchen cabinets in alphabetical order. He felt like a first-class ass for provoking Laura. His conscience—which he was trying to ignore—was screaming some pretty raunchy curses at him for behaving so badly.
Silently he marveled at her organizational abilities that the White House would envy. Hell, the woman could probably run a small country all by herself and still take a couple of days’ vacation each week. But if he was to succeed in his campaign to rout Ms. Temptation from his house then he couldn’t pay her compliments or cut her any slack.
An apology flocked to his tongue, but he refused to voice it because being nice to her would defeat his purpose. And damn it, he was uncomfortably aware of Laura Seymour in her trim-fitting, perfectly creased jeans and her pink knit blouse that displayed the full rounded swells of her breasts. Her perfume kept trying to lure him across the kitchen to get a stronger whiff and his good hand itched—and so did the injured one—to map the alluring contours of her goddesslike body.
Sheesh! Of all the women in all the world why did she have to be the one hired as his temporary housecleaner, cook and bottle washer…? Bottle, that’s what he needed, he decided instantly. After a few drinks he’d be numb to the goddess in designer jeans.
Wade hobbled across the room and reached up to the top shelf to retrieve a bottle of hooch. He accidentally bumped into Laura when she grabbed the box of tea bags to align them beside the spaghetti sauce. Her breasts brushed the side of his left arm and Wade snatched a quick breath—only to be assailed by that citrusy scent that had been driving him crazy from the far side of the room.
When he glanced down his gaze collided with those enormous powder-blue eyes, surrounded by a hedge of long, thick lashes. Then his attention dropped to the teasing hint of cleavage displayed by her V-necked blouse. Feeling like a kid who’d been caught with his hands in the cookie jar—or wherever—because he knew that she knew what had momentarily distracted his attention, his gaze bounced guiltily back to her face. Her full, tempting lips were only a scant few inches from his. Wade didn’t dare draw breath, for fear of breathing in her essence so deeply that he’d succumb to the reckless urge to kiss her and find out if she tasted as delicious as she looked. Gawd, he’d known she’d be pure trouble!
“What are you doing?” she asked, a hitch in her voice, a flush of color on her face.
Checking you out, though that’s the last thing I’d planned to do, the voice of honesty replied. But Wade decided to play dumb. He could do dumb if he had to. “Whaddya mean, what am I doing?”
Blushing profusely, her gaze focused on his mouth, Laura gestured toward the top shelf where his hand had stalled in midair. “If you’re reaching for that whiskey bottle, that isn’t a wise idea. Pain medication doesn’t mix with liquor. Your doctor wouldn’t approve, Mr. Ryder.”
“First off, I decided to forego that pain medication because it makes me woozy.” He ignored her when she muttered something about preferring woozy to downright cranky.
“Secondly, you can drop that mister stuff, professor,” he instructed, then backed away from temptation personified.
“I’m not a college professor,” she clarified. “I’m a secondary school instructor.”
“Yeah, whatever. Fact is that my doctor is Jack Daniel’s and he makes house calls.” He snatched the bottle off the shelf and set it on the counter with a decisive thump. “Hand me two glasses.”
“I don’t want a drink,” she informed him.
“I’d hope not. You’re on the clock. I want two glasses, one for each hand.”
She stared pointedly at his left wrist that was draped in the sling. “You only have one good hand,” she reminded him.
“So what? Just hand me the damn glasses.”
She didn’t move, just stared him down as if he was one of her belligerent students.
“Fine then, I’ll get it myself, which only goes to prove that I don’t need you.”
Before Wade could reach around her to grab the glasses she plucked them off the shelf and set them down with a clank.
“Thanks, professor,” he said, and not very politely.
“You’re welcome, Ryder. But you should know that you don’t get extra credit for doing things for yourself when you’re supposed to be resting all those body parts you injured while bull wrestling.”
“I wasn’t bull wrestling,” he corrected.
“Yeah, whatever.”
When she tossed his caustic words back in his face he gnashed his teeth, then realized his jaw was as sore as the rest of his abused body.
“According to your cousins’ version of the incident that required immediate medical attention,” she went on, “you valiantly distracted the big bad bull before he flattened Vance and Quint. But I suspect that you were just trying to clamber out of the way so that thousand-pound brute could vent his frustration on your cousins.”
Wade’s chest swelled with indignation—which served to remind him that his ribs were exceptionally tender. “I didn’t turn tail and run,” he huffed and puffed and blew her theory down. “My cousins may be ornery cusses, but I didn’t see any sense of all three of us getting trampled so none of us could handle the ranch chores.”
“Oh, I see,” she said in pretended thoughtfulness. “You just wanted an excuse to take some time off and let your cousins handle the hard work.”
The comment cut like a Weed Eater. “Hell no! Are you nuts, lady?” he roared. “The last thing I wanted was to be laid up and have a woman under my roof!”
Wade slammed his mouth shut and cursed himself soundly. It was never wise to let the enemy know your battle plan. If Laura hadn’t figured out that he was trying to get rid of her any way he could, she surely suspected it now.
She regarded him through her narrowed gaze then went back to alphabetically stocking the shelves. “So, you’re saying that you’re afraid of women and that fear defines who you are.”
“I’m saying nothing of the kind,” he said, highly affronted. He twisted the cap off the whiskey with a vicious jerk and purposely slopped the amber liquid on the counter as he filled his glasses. “You think I’m afraid of you? Not hardly. You’re all of five foot nothing and I’m six-three in my stocking feet. Whaddya gonna do? Break my other leg? I don’t think so!”
“I’m not referring to physical fright,” she clarified. “I’m talking about emotional terror.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he protested.
She reached over to grab a dish towel to mop up his mess then tossed him a sly glance. “Then you’re saying that you don’t appreciate women in the same capacity that most men do.”
“If you’re asking if I like sex, which is none of your business, by the way, the answer is: Yes, I like sex as much as the next heterosexual guy. I just want sex on my terms. No strings attached, no commitment.”
“So basically you’re saying you just don’t like women, but you don’t mind using them to scratch the occasional itch,” she paraphrased.
Hoo-kay, so that sounded cold and insensitive. But yeah, she’d pretty much hit the nail on its proverbial head. Thanks to Bobbie Lynn he’d never let a woman close enough for prolonged periods of time to form an emotional attachment. “Right,” he replied. “Sex is impersonal. You get some when you need some. Like filling an empty fuel tank.”
She paused momentarily from her chore to glance sideways at him. He could tell she was offended, which was fine by him. He didn’t want to like her and he didn’t care if she liked him, either. The less she liked him the sooner she’d realize working here was a mistake and she’d take a hike.
“This is fascinating,” she said, staring at him with those luminous baby blues that had the power to make him weak in the knees. “Explain to me how sex can be impersonal when the act itself involves baring pretty much everything you are to someone else in the most intimate manner possible?”
Wade grabbed some ice cubes from the fridge, plunked them in his glasses and then tossed back a shot of booze. It gave him time to formulate his reply. “Well, ya see, professor, this is where we get into the differences between men and women,” he lectured authoritatively. “Women think you’re supposed to attach meaningful emotion to sex, but men just like to get laid because it makes ’em feel good all over.” He noticed her face had become splotchy with color, so he pressed the issue. “A man’s psyche isn’t so difficult to understand, despite all that mumbo-jumbo those psychological experts like to spout. We just want two things from life. One—” he waved the glass of Jack Daniel’s in her face “—is a swig of booze, and the other is getting naked with a woman when the mood strikes.”
She was highly offended or extremely embarrassed—he wasn’t sure which. Her peaches-and-cream complexion turned candy-apple red. Her eyes were shooting sparks, too, he noted.
“You want to know what I think?” she asked in a tone that reminded him of a hissing cat.
“No, not particularly.” He downed another slug of booze. “But you’re probably planning to tell me anyway, right?”
Apparently that really ticked her off because she glared at him and said, “I think you’re a throwback to the caveman era and your Neanderthal mentality sucks!”
Unfazed, he took another drink. “You’re entitled to your opinion, professor, but don’t come crying to me when you think you’ve landed Mr. Right and he doesn’t meet all your fairy-tale expectations of love and romance.”
He winced when her fuming glance zeroed in on his right hand that held his sweating glass of booze. He knew what she was going to ask before the words were out of her mouth.
“Is that a wedding band? It certainly looks like one. Why are you wearing it on the wrong hand?” she quizzed him like any self-respecting schoolmarm.
“Because I married the wrong woman. It’s a reminder never to make that disastrous mistake again, so long as I live.”
“Ah,” she said pensively. “No wonder you have so many hang-ups. That explains a lot.”
He stiffened and glowered down from his advantageous height, annoyed by that smug little smile on her rosebud mouth. “That doesn’t explain squat. I don’t have hang-ups.”
“Sure you do.” She returned to her task of stocking the cabinets. “You probably got your itsy-bitsy heart broken and you’re holding all women responsible for the traitorous act of one femme fatale. What did she do? Cheat on you?”
“None of your damn business,” he said through his teeth.
“That’s why this house shows no signs of a woman’s touch. You’ve become a card-carrying woman-hater, haven’t you?”
She thought she was so damn smart, did she? Well, she was right, but he didn’t cotton to how easily she’d read him.
“You tried to erase all evidence that there was a woman in your house who got under your skin.” She stacked three cans of tuna then reached over to grab three cans of turkey. “You figured you couldn’t make a woman happy so why try, right? It’s easier to give up, to quit.”
She turned toward him then, all fierce determination. “Well, you need to know that I’m not a quitter, Mr. Ryder, no matter how hard you try to drive me away. I intend to do my job exceptionally well. One look at you testifies to the obvious fact that you need my assistance to keep this place shipshape while you recuperate. Now, go take a load off your broken leg while I whip up supper. Go on, scram,” she ordered, shooing him on his way. “You’re slowing me down.”
Wade was so frustrated by the unexpected turn of events that he was halfway across the room before he realized he’d allowed her to boss him around. Hell! He’d let that woman have the last word. That would never do.
“Just stay out of my way, professor, and I’ll stay out of yours,” he felt to compelled to say.
“Fine.”
“Good!”
Muttering at his live-in housekeeper, he limped off on his crutch. He cursed his devilish cousins with every uneven step and returned to the living room with his glasses of whiskey. As he lowered himself gingerly into his recliner he watched John Wayne’s character drop Liberty Valance in his tracks. If only he could dispose of Laura Seymour that easily! She might have thought she had him all figured out so she could deal effectively with him, but she was way wrong about that.
Now, more than ever, Wade wanted her gone. When a woman started picking around in a man’s brain, he was in heap big trouble. And this particular woman was too blasted smart if she could analyze him in the course of one afternoon. He’d have to work harder at driving her away so he could reclaim his private, female-free domain. Besides, he’d kept his emotions in cold storage for years and he didn’t want Laura to defrost them. Keeping them frozen solid worked best.
As for his traitorous cousins, he wasn’t going to kick their butts, as soon as he was able. He’d decided to murder them for foisting this particular woman off on him. He suspected Vance and Quint were trying to do a little matchmaking—kill a couple of birds with one stone, as it were. Well, they’d wasted their time with this prank. Laura Seymour wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted in his life—not that he wanted any kind of female in his life, mind you, because he didn’t. He especially didn’t want to share his personal space with a female as tempting and intelligent as Seymour. She stirred up his hormones and put his conscience under duress.
True, he’d been raised better than to be unspeakably rude and disrespectful to women—his mother would’ve killed him if she’d overheard that exchange in the kitchen. Of course, his mother didn’t fall into the Women category. She was, after all, his mother. And okay, so maybe all women weren’t as treacherous as Bobbie Lynn. But Wade’s track record indicated that he was a lousy judge of the female of the species and he naturally attracted women who were all wrong for him. That said, the best course of action was to avoid close association with all varieties of females.
Furthermore, he mused as he sipped his hooch, he wasn’t about to let his younger cousins pick women for him. They enjoyed all varieties of women. The more women the better, so they claimed. What did they know about finding the elusive Ms. Right? Nothing, that’s what. Otherwise those two clowns would be wedlocked by now.
Wade knew that when it came to women Vance and Quint had stumbled and fallen a couple of times themselves. They chose to handle their humiliation in different ways. Quint preferred to shield his emotions by flirting outrageously with everything in skirts and he was swift enough of foot to dodge wedding nooses that flew his way. Vance relied on teasing humor to sidestep emotional land mines. As for Wade, he chose avoidance and barbed-wire barriers to protect his heart.
Whatever worked, he supposed. But the fact remained that the Ryder cousins—even the absentee Gage—were considered highly prized bachelors in Hoot’s Roost. Come to think of it, his maternal cousins were in great demand as well. The whole passel of male cousins were decent looking—if that mattered—and they were successful—and that did matter to females who power-shopped for low-maintenance husbands who could provide for their wives in the wealthy manner to which they aspired.
Well, gold diggers need not apply at the Ryder ranches, Wade mused. As for Laura Seymour, he wanted her to vamoose—pronto. Now that he knew he had the ability to make her mad he’d push and prod until she lost her temper and spit out the four-letter Q word. Then he’d have her exactly where he wanted her…besides naked in his bed….
Wade jerked upright, shocked by that whimsical thought. He didn’t want to visualize how Laura would look naked because that would lead to more trouble than he had already. Wade squelched the testosterone-induced fantasy that leaped to mind and concentrated on the movie. He wasn’t going to give his new housekeeper another thought—except to conjure up ways to get rid of her, while he listened to her rummage around in his kitchen, as if she owned the place.
SWIFTLY AND EFFICIENTLY, Laura bustled around the kitchen, preparing the evening meal that she felt certain Wade couldn’t fault. She’d covered the basic food groups to provide a well-rounded, nutritious supper. Immensely pleased with herself, she sauntered into the living room, toying with the devilish urge to dump the food on Wade’s head rather than politely placing the tray on his lap. To her disappointment he stared distastefully at his plate.
“What the hell is this?” he asked incredulously.
“Well, duh, it’s supper. What does it look like?” Laura mentally patted herself on the back for her sassy rejoinder. Already, she’d learned to counter Wade’s intimidation with lightning-quick sarcasm. After a few weeks of dealing with him she was positively certain she could hold her own with any man. She might have been a little timid and unsure of herself in the past, since her brothers tried to map out her life and speak in her behalf, but she was learning fast.
Wade glanced up from the tray and said, “Do you have the slightest idea where you are, Seymour?”
Puzzled, she replied, “On an Oklahoma ranch?”
“Well, if you figured that out all by yourself, did you also notice this is cattle country?”
She had no idea where he was going with this line of questioning. “Yes, I do believe I saw a herd of cattle grazing the pastures.”
“Good, it’s a relief to know you’re not blind, just dense.”
She could feel her temper simmering, but she valiantly suppressed her mounting irritation. “And your point, provided there is one, would be?”
He made a stabbing gesture toward the stuffed poultry and dressing, smothered in gravy, on his plate. “I raise cattle, therefore I support the beef industry, not poultry. You don’t feed a cattleman a damn chicken. Jeez, Seymour, are they giving away teaching certificates to the highest bidder these days?”
“Jeez, Ryder, if you don’t eat chicken, then what are all those frozen breasts doing in your freezing unit?”
A wave of heat flooded through her when his gaze focused deliberately on her bosom. He delighted in rattling her—that conversation they’d shared in the kitchen about the depersonalization of sex indicated as much. She should be highly offended by his telling glance. Indeed if another man stared so blatantly, unblinkingly, at her chest she would have been outraged and insulted.
For some unexplainable reason the red-hot, seductive glimmer in Wade’s green eyes sent her senses reeling and heightened her awareness of him. Which she didn’t need, thank you so much. She was aware of him—to the extreme. His deep, smoky voice sent hot chills down her spine. His muscular physique kept drawing her unwilling attention and feminine speculation. He was distractingly handsome with that thatch of raven hair, those hypnotic eyes, those deeply tanned and chiseled features, those broad shoulders and horseman’s thighs. He looked solid and unyielding and he exuded some mystical aura that fascinated her on an elemental level.
She tried to tell herself that she was intrigued because she wasn’t accustomed to hanging out with cowboys. Teachers, yes. Businessmen, you bet. But not rugged, macho hunks like Wade Ryder.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Wade taunted.
Color splashed across her cheeks in such a rush that Laura feared the sudden pressure would blow off the top of her head. He’d caught her ogling him. Worse, she was probably drooling. Enough of this nonsense! She wasn’t going to let herself become the least bit interested in this woman-hating cowboy and his hang-ups. He was a waste of time and effort.
“Earth to Seymour,” he prompted again.
“What?” she mumbled.
“I said…” he drawled very deliberately, “I like plump, juicy breasts occasionally, but not on a regular basis. Beef is my mainstay, so don’t forget it when you’re puttering around the kitchen, throwing together some slop to feed me.”
Puttering? Throwing together slop? She’d slaved over this meal, damn it. She glared at him, then noticed he was trying to get a reaction from her. He was waiting for her to pop her cork so he could toss out another insult that would infuriate her to the point of quitting. Well, it wasn’t happening, she vowed fiercely. She would not be provoked!
Before she could respond he thrust both empty glasses at her. “Make yourself useful and fill ’em up, will ya?”
She snatched up the glasses, careful to avoid contact with his long, lean fingers. “With poison? Gladly. I’ll be back in a flash with a deadly dose.”
Wade watched her stalk off, her hips swishing like an angry cat’s tail, and he sighed gratefully. Thank you, God! He needed a quick time-out. Staring at her well-proportioned chest and watching her blush got his male body all riled up. That he didn’t need—not in his condition. When she’d given him that thorough once-over he’d been positively certain that not all his body parts were nonfunctional. If not for the supper tray on his lap, Laura would’ve noticed his aroused condition and likely razzed him unmercifully about it.
Damn it, he didn’t like the way Laura made him feel, the way he reacted to her, the way his thoughts detoured down lusty avenues when she got within five feet of him.
On the spur of the moment he decided that he wasn’t going to repay his cousins by killing them swiftly and mercifully for dumping Laura on his doorstep. No, he’d roast them over an open fire…or drag them behind a galloping horse around the perimeters of the ranch…or stake them over a den of fire ants, that sort of thing.
Wade pretended a fascinated interest in the television when he heard Laura stamping back into the room. When she slammed down the glasses of whiskey on his tray, he said, “Took you long enough.”
“I had to scrounge around the cabinets to locate the hemlock and arsenic,” she muttered spitefully. “Here, pick your poison. Anything else, Your Grumpiness?”
He flicked his wrist, dismissing her. “That’ll do it.”
“It’d better.” She performed a quick about-face toward the kitchen. “Otherwise I’ll have to restock the poisons because we’re fresh out. Just my luck that I got stuck with a man who’s just too darn mean to roll over and die after a couple of lethal doses.”
3
WHEN LAURA STORMED OFF, Wade broke into a reluctant smile. Who would have thought the timid schoolmarm he’d met only a few hours ago possessed quicksilver sass and lively spirit. Of course, it made getting rid of her more difficult, but it was an entertaining challenge.
Wade recalled that if he dared to use that snotty tone on Bobbie Lynn, she simpered and mewled until her thick mascara bled like hot tar down her makeup-coated cheeks. However, Laura Seymour didn’t bleed mascara because she didn’t coat her face with war paint. She had the kind of natural beauty and flawless skin that Bobbie Lynn tried to acquire artificially.
Gawd, why he’d married that woman he couldn’t recall. She’d whined incessantly about the isolation of ranch life. She’d demanded favors for passion and dangled sex in front of him like a carrot before a mule. Fool that he’d been, he’d tried to make her happy, had given into her to make their marriage work because Ryders were supposed to wed forever. At least his parents had. Same went for Vance’s parents, Quint’s parents and Gage’s parents. The four older-generation Ryder brothers had discovered everlasting love and produced four Ryder cousins who’d never found their soul mates.
Maybe love skipped a generation, Wade mused. He was the only one of the Ryder cousins who’d waded into the wedding pool. He’d failed big time. He’d been such a blind idiot that he’d been the last one to know Bobbie Lynn was fooling around on him and took him to the cleaners when she trotted merrily off to Dallas, leaving him to deal with the humiliation and small-town gossip that spread faster than a plague of locusts.
Wade had worked double shifts after the financial disaster left in ex-wife’s wake. He’d learned his lesson well. Women would screw you over if you gave them half a chance.
The reminder of his ex reaffirmed his belief that he never wanted to put himself in a position to be betrayed or rejected again. He was better off without a woman in his life. Yup, he’d just keep hammering away at Laura until she threw up her hands and stalked out—for good. He had enough trouble trying to recuperate from the painful accident. He didn’t want to play the fateful hand women dealt out to men.
Wade had learned—the hard way—that women always played with loaded dice and they stacked the deck. Yet, even knowing that, Wade couldn’t keep his mind off Laura while he prepared for bed that night. She was in the room next to his, probably peeling off her clothes. All that soft, silky skin bared—
He inwardly cursed the wayward direction of his thoughts, struggled from his jeans then plopped on the bed. When he noticed a moving shadow in the hall he hurriedly snatched the bedspread over his lap to cover himself.
He glared at Laura when she stepped uninvited into his bedroom. “Next time try knocking first,” he muttered.
“Sorry.” Her gaze bounced from his bare chest and bare legs to his face. She blushed, but she moved bravely toward him. “I thought a massage might help you relax.”
Wade nearly came unglued when she placed her hands on the tense muscles of his neck. “Don’t touch me!” he yelped.
She snatched her hands away as if she’d been scorched. “I’m only trying to do the job I was hired to do,” she explained as her gaze dipped once again to his chest.
“Go do it somewhere else.” He clung desperately to the bedspread that concealed his hips. “I don’t want a massage.”
“You look pretty tensed up to me,” she observed.
“Maybe it’s because you’re invading my private space when I’m not dressed,” he grumbled, his male pride prodding him. He didn’t want Laura to see his battered and bruised body when, in comparison, she was the picture of health and beauty. This was not helping him feel better about himself.
She studied him for a pensive moment then smiled down at his scowl. “Know what, Ryder?”
“No, what, Seymour?” he asked, feeling himself caving beneath her beguiling smile.
“I still think you’re afraid of me,” she teased playfully. “And you know what else?”
“I give up. What else?” he questioned, wishing she’d hotfoot it from the room and leave him in peace.
“I’m going to kill you with kindness while I’m working here. No matter how mean you are to me, you aren’t going to have a single complaint with my work.”
“Probably not since I’ll be dead,” he countered.
He hadn’t intended to amuse her with the comment, but apparently he had because she chuckled. “Well, good night then. If you need anything just give a holler. I’ll have your breakfast ready when you get up in the morning.”
After she exited Wade raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. He wasn’t sure he could keep up this pretense that he disliked Laura when everything in him responded to her disarming smile and her enjoyable companionship.
Well, he reminded himself as he stretched out gingerly on his bed, he’d just have to try harder to remain remote and distant. He tried to concentrate on ways to alienate Laura, but he was just too exhausted. Sprawled on his back, he fell asleep with forbidden fantasies swirling around his head.
BY THE TIME WADE HOBBLED into the kitchen the next morning on the crutch he used for balance, Laura had one load of clothes washed and stuffed in the dryer and the rest of the laundry sorted. She also had bacon and pancakes staying warm in the oven.
“Morning,” she greeted cheerfully.
Wade mumbled unintelligibly then motioned toward the living room. She presumed he wanted to eat in his recliner so she fixed his plate. Surprisingly he didn’t poke fun at her cooking, just wolfed down the food and asked for more. Although he’d previously announced that he didn’t need her company during meals, Laura grabbed the dust cloth and spiffied up the living room.
“I really like your ranch,” she said conversationally.
“It’s mine and you can’t have it,” he replied, flashing her a dark look from beneath lowered brows.
“Well, shoot, and here I was, ready to write you a check for the place,” she said breezily.
“Could I have a little more orange juice, ple—” He clamped his mouth shut and glared at her.
“Sure.” She breezed over to pluck up the empty glass. It amused her that Wade had to force himself not to be polite. She sensed that he wasn’t as mean as he wanted her to think. She’d have to remember that when he purposely goaded her.
“I thought I’d take a look at your computer programs this afternoon,” she said as she handed him the glass of juice.
“Fine, whatever,” he mumbled then took a sip.
“More coffee?” she offered.
“Yeah, tha—” He closed his mouth and thrust out the cup.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hike around the ranch in my spare time. I haven’t had the chance to go on nature walks or ride horseback since I was a kid at summer camp.”
“Just don’t scare the cattle. I’m in no condition to stop a stampede.”
Well, at least he hadn’t forbidden her from looking around the place, she mused. Of course, that was because he wanted her out from underfoot occasionally.
When she reentered the living room, she noticed Wade had set aside the empty tray and was looking hopelessly lost. She imagined an active man like Wade was having trouble with his sedentary existence. Laura wheeled toward her bedroom to gather a few books that she’d brought with her.
“Here, these will occupy your time.” She handed him two suspense thrillers for his reading pleasure.
Wade stared at the books then glanced up at her. “I’m too old for book reports, professor,” he said flippantly.
“Would you prefer something else to read?”
“Yeah, Playboy. They’re in my bottom dresser drawer.”
If he was trying to aggravate her, she’d prove that it was a waste of his time. “Sure thing. Coming right up.”
He frowned, apparently disappointed that she hadn’t objected. Laura swallowed a smug grin and strode down the hall. She’d never actually had her hands on the men’s magazine before so she thumbed through it on her way back to the living room. She couldn’t help but wonder if the busty and bare bunnies were the types Wade preferred when he was in the mood for female companionship.
“Find something interesting in there, Seymour?” he asked when he caught her staring at the centerfold.
“No, Playgirl is more my style,” she insisted saucily. “I plan to pin up a few beefcake posters in my bedroom, as soon as I have time. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Fine by me. Then maybe you won’t be barging into my room to sneak peeks at me,” he razzed her.
Her mouth dropped open. “That was not what I was doing last night!” she objected, affronted.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, and grinned wickedly. “I may be crippled up, but I’m not blind. You looked your fill.”
Her face flooded with color because he was right and they both knew it. She’d definitely looked him over when she saw him sitting on the edge of his bed—arms, legs and chest bare. Having lived with four brothers, she’d seen men in various states of undress. But Wade’s power-packed, muscled body had had more of an arousing effect than she wanted to admit.
“Well?”
She jerked her gaze to his face when she realized she was staring at him, remembering how he looked without his shirt and jeans. “Well, what?”
“Are you going to deny it, Seymour?” he challenged.
Laura knew he was trying to get her goat again, but she refused to let him. “No, I’m not,” she replied. “You’re a stud muffin, Ryder, and I suspect you know it. If I had your picture I’d pin it on the wall beside the other beefcakes.”
When his mouth dropped open and he was left speechless, Laura smiled in triumph and went back to dusting the furniture. She wasn’t sure but she thought she might’ve won that round. Wade didn’t make another peep for an hour.
Although she knew Wade was trying hard to make himself difficult to live with she suspected that he wasn’t normally a grouch. He was being deliberately cantankerous for her benefit. She’d have to remember that the next time he tried to annoy her in his ongoing attempt to make her quit her job.
WADE WAS GREATLY RELIEVED when his cousins showed up at the end of the week. Leaning heavily on a single crutch, Wade slowly progressed down the hill to reach the barn where Quint and Vance were unloading their saddled horses from the stock trailer. He battled the feeling of uselessness as he watched his cousins tighten cinches and bridle their cow ponies.
“So, how goes it with the housekeeper, cuz?” Quint asked, tossing Wade a smile.
Although it was going better than he preferred, because Laura had been amazingly efficient the past few days, Wade said, “I don’t know how much you’re paying Seymour, but it’s too damn much for what little she does.”
Vance’s dark brows jackknifed. “You don’t say.”
“I do say.”
“What’s wrong exactly?” Quint asked.
“Where do I start? The woman tried to burn off my tongue with her thirty-weight-motor-oil coffee that’s as hot as molten lava, and her cooking skills are barely existent.” Wade made a face and cringed—although the truth was that her coffee was just the way he liked it, and she was such an excellent cook that he gobbled every bite of her meals.
Quint and Vance exchanged glances then stared toward the graveled driveway, noting that Laura’s low-slung sports car was gone. Wade used it as another strike against her.
“I haven’t gotten a full day’s work out of her yet,” he went on. “This afternoon she took off to visit her friend.”
“Well, I’m sure that once she gets settled into a routine things will run smoothly,” Quint defended her.
“Yeah well, it’s your money,” Wade said with a lack-adaisical shrug. “But I’m tellin’ ya, she’s as useless as a headache. I have to wake her up every morning by nine to fix my breakfast. She barely has time to prepare lunch while she’s watching all those soap operas.”
Wade was laying it on thick and his conscience was snarling at him for voicing lies, in hopes of convincing Quint and Vance to can her. Truth was, the woman was so energetic and efficient that it wore him out watching her buzz merrily from one chore to the next.
Like a whirling dervish, she’d attacked the mountain of laundry that had piled up before Wade was injured, as well as the mound that had built up after he’d come home in a cast and sling. The kitchen and bathrooms were spotless, and the house had been vacuumed and dusted within an inch of its life. Laura had also booted up his computer to look at his ranching programs. Like a physician conducting an examination, she’d decided what sort of updates he needed then called in her order. And presto, the software arrived by overnight express. Wade had seen her in his office loading the new software and transferring information like the pro she was.
However, if he gave her a ringing endorsement he’d never get Seymour out of his hair—and off his mind.
Sure ’nuff, having her underfoot 24/7 was driving him up the wall. He was starting to like her. When he deliberately provoked and tormented her, in hopes of driving her away, she sassed him playfully. When he tried to communicate through insults—to annoy her—she responded by insisting that he was suffering from a persecution complex brought on by the hang-ups left in the wake of his ex-wife’s betrayal and that he needed to get over himself. And worse, Wade was actually enjoying their conversations, their verbal sparring and her saucy sense of humor. That was not good.
It had been a long time since he’d experienced such an intense and profound physical attraction to a woman. He wanted her—of course, that went without saying, because she was extremely desirable and tempting. But what scared the bejeezus out of him was that he liked being with her, liked sharing his long hours of his inactivity. That was very bad!
Wade was getting so desperate that he was stooping to concocting outrageous fibs. He was tattling to his cousins, trying to convince them to dismiss Laura. He wasn’t very proud of himself, but this was about self-preservation!
Vance appraised Wade’s freshly laundered, wrinkle-free chambray shirt and jeans then smiled wryly. “You don’t look the worse for wear,” he observed.
“That’s because I hand wash my own clothes,” Wade said.
“Uh-huh, sure you do.” Quint smirked. “I hope you realize we aren’t buying this crock of malarkey you’re shoveling out.”
Damn, he was afraid of that. “Fine, turn a blind eye while she blows off her duties,” Wade muttered. “Throw your money down the toilet. What do I care?”
Quint chuckled as he effortlessly mounted his buckskin gelding. “I don’t know why you just don’t admit you like Laura and get it out in the open.”
“I most certainly don’t like her!” Wade objected—loudly. Another outright lie. He did like her. That was the problem and it wasn’t getting better.
“Right.” Vance scoffed. “Ask me, you’re protesting a little too much, which is a dead giveaway in my book.”
Wade swore ripely. This was his cry for help and his ornery cousins weren’t listening. A man couldn’t even count on his family to save him from disaster.
“Mind if we borrow Frank?” Vance asked as he reined his sorrel toward the corral.
“Sure, take my cow dog, too. You’ve already stuck me with Seymour. What’s one more traitorous act between cousins?”
“Gawd, cuz, you’re breakin’ my heart,” Quint drawled.
“I think I’m gonna break down and cry.” Vance, grinning playfully, wiped imaginary tears from his eyes and sniffled.
“Fine, you guys can sit there cracking wise, but I’m telling you that Seymour shirks her duties and you’re paying her for doing diddly-squat.”
Wade whistled. Frank, his loyal blue heeler, bounded from the barn, wagging his stub of a tail. Frank lived to round up and cut cattle from the herd. He was as efficient as two men on horseback and worth his weight in dog chow.
When Frank stared devotedly up at him, Wade patted the dog’s head then gestured toward the pasture. “Bring ’em in, Frank,” he ordered. When Frank spun on his haunches and sprang into action, Wade cut his cousins a quick glance. “Just stay out of Frank’s way. He can do everything except open and shut the gates.”
Quint leaned away from his horse to unlatch the gate. “Did you teach Frank to inoculate and brand, too?”
“If he could handle something like that I’d have him in the house, cooking and cleaning, because he could run circles around my temp housekeeper,” Wade flung back.
Duff—the bowlegged cowboy, who’d worked at the ranch since Wade was a toddler, and now, recently retired, helped out part-time—appeared at the barn door. “Need some help with roundup, boys?” he asked as he dusted blades of straw from his shirtsleeves.
“Naw,” Vance replied. “Frank’s gonna do all the work. Quint and I will just sit back and twiddle our thumbs until the cattle are penned up.”
Duff grinned, displaying his missing front tooth, and then he gestured toward the barn. “Laura brought down a stack of sandwiches, chips, colas and fresh-baked apple pie and stashed them in the fridge so you boys’d have some lunch. She went to town to restock groceries and pick up supplies. That little gal is something when it comes to working around here. She even helped me muck out the barn and feed the horses before she drove off.”
Wade winced when his cousins’ narrowed gazes branded him the liar he was. Damn Duff and his flapping jaws!
“Not getting our money’s worth?” Quint smirked.
“Lazy?” Vance scoffed.
Duff’s whiskered jaw dropped open and his sunken chest swelled with irritation. “Wade said that about her?” he hooted. “Hell, the little gal even came by last night to bring me supper and spiffied up my place while I ate. I forgot a house could look that clean and smell that good. She even brought me a vase of wildflowers to brighten up the place.”
Great, Wade’s strategy to convince his cousins that Seymour wasn’t pulling her salaried weight was blowing up in his face. How was he to know Duff was going to shout her praises to high heaven?
Duff didn’t shut up, either. He just kept yammering on and on about how “that gal” was the “best thang” that had happened around here in a decade and how she was the “pertiest thang” he’d every laid eyes on in all his sixty-six years.
“I’m feeling nauseous.” Wade turned an awkward one-eighty and limped toward the house. “I better go lie down.”
“First you better stop, drop and roll, right where you are,” Quint called after him, “Your pants are on fire, liar.”
“Does his nose look like it’s growing longer to you?” Vance asked Quint in mock concern.
“Yup, ol’ Pinocchio is in big trouble,” Quint teased.
“Darn tootin’ he is,” Duff chimed in. “His mama and daddy raised him better than to pull a stunt like that!”
Serenaded by teasing laughter Wade returned to the house. He’d gotten no help whatsoever from that quarter. He’d have to run Seymour off the ranch on a rail—all by himself.
LAURA BEAMED IN DELIGHT when she saw Annie Nelson jogging across the street to meet her for lunch. Annie didn’t look much different than she had in college. She was still an attractive bundle of energy and quick with a friendly smile.
“I’m so glad you had time to meet me in town today,” Annie enthused as she gave Laura an affectionate hug. “Sitting and gabbing is going to be just like old times.”
When Annie led the way into Hoagie’s Diner, Laura set aside her frustration of trying to gain Wade’s respect and his ongoing attempts to convince her to find another job. Dining with Annie was the distraction she needed.
Laura studied her surroundings as she plunked down at the corner booth of the busy café. The place was filled to capacity during the lunch hour and two harried-looking waitresses were darting from one booth to the next, taking and delivering orders. The mom-and-pop diner was doing a driving business and the smell of hamburgers and fries caused Laura’s stomach to growl in eager anticipation.
“You’ll love the food here,” Annie assured her. “Best hamburgers, chicken fried steak and cream gravy in three counties. And you’re going to love Hoot’s Roost, too.”
“It’s definitely a change from Denver,” Laura commented as she perused the fifties, malt-shop style café then glanced down at the laminated menu. “But I love the wide-open spaces here and I’m enjoying this new feeling of independence.”
Annie raked her shiny mahogany-colored hair away from her face and grinned. “I’ll bet your brothers have been calling every other day to check on you.”
Laura nodded her thanks to the waitress who set two glasses of ice water on the Formica tabletop. “Actually my brothers have been away on a business trip so I’ve had several days of reprieve. I sent them postcards to inform them that I’ve moved. But I fully expect them to call to grill me about my summer job when they return to Denver.”
Annie sipped her water and her hazel eyes glinted with curiosity. “So…how’s it going with Wade?”
She shrugged evasively. “It’s a job.”
“Yeah, right. Like you didn’t notice the man’s so good-looking that he could jump-start a woman in a coma. He’s a babe magnet, same as his cousins. I should be so lucky to be surrounded by the gorgeous Ryder cousins. Sounds like tough work if you can get it.”
Annie sighed dreamily. “Even when the Ryder cousins were in high school they were gorgeous, athletic and in great demand. Even though I was just in grade school at the time, I loved to watch them play basketball, baseball and rodeo. They were something to see in action, lemme tell ya.”
“Well, Wade might’ve been a sports dynamo back then but now he’s two-hundred-plus pounds of bad attitude,” Laura confided to her good friend. “He doesn’t want me in his house and I can supply you with a ten-minute list of his offenses if you’re interested. Even worse, when he goads me I sass him right back, without showing an ounce of my former restraint. The man is turning me into the worst version of myself.”
Annie shrugged, unconcerned. “It’s probably good practice for you. I always thought you were too restrained when your brothers were breathing down your neck, trying to run your life. You just caved in and let them intimidate you. As far as Wade’s concerned, it’s understandable that he doesn’t want a woman in his house after he made the mistake of marrying the original bitch goddess of Hoot’s Roost. Bobbie Lynn didn’t make life easy for him, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth about women in general. I heard recently that she’s already ditched her second hubby and moved on to number three.”
“Bobbie Lynn, huh?” Laura mused aloud.
Annie grinned wryly. “You know the type. Prom Queen, Homecoming Queen and voted most popular girl on campus. All the guys in high school went gaga over her. When Wade returned from college she made herself instantly available by dropping her current fiancé like a hot potato. Not long after Wade and Bobbie Lynn married, while he and his cousins were traveling the rodeo circuit, she started sneaking around on him.”
“No wonder Wade swore off women,” Laura mused aloud. “Bobbie Lynn obviously has fidelity issues.”
“You can say that again! You’d think Bobbie Lynn would’ve recognized the good deal she had going, but she was never known for her commodity of brains, only her eye-catching looks and seductive wiles. I think she even tried to hit on Wade’s cousins, but they have a hard-and-fast rule about remaining loyal to one another,” Annie informed her. “Even Quint drew the line and wouldn’t budge when Bobbie Lynn practically threw herself at him. No matter what the gossip circulating about Quint being a ladies’ man, he does have scruples, so don’t let anyone around here tell you differently.”
Laura grinned in amusement. “Is there anyone in this town whose background you don’t know?”
“Nope,” Annie replied breezily. “I’ve lived here all my life. I know who’s related to whom and which branch of which family tree juts out from what direction. It helps to understand the dynamics of this podunk town when you’re teaching school here. It prevents you from shooting off your mouth and offending someone’s shirttail cousins.”
Laura must have looked a bit shell-shocked because Annie leaned over to pat her hand consolingly. “Not to worry. I’ll be there at school to debrief you when your students troop into your classroom. Of course, my music room is at the opposite end of the hall from the math and computer rooms.” She grinned playfully. “We wouldn’t want to break your students’ concentration while they’re calculating square roots, ya know. All that screeching and howling in my classroom would be a distraction. But I can be at your end of the hall in just over a minute if you need me.”
Laura slumped against the back of the vintage vinyl booth. “Sometimes I still can’t believe I actually packed up, moved away from my brothers and have a life of my own now. The next order of business is to convince the superintendent and school board that I can transform all my students into Nobel prize-winning mathematicians…What if I can’t?”
Annie chuckled. “You’ll do fine here. What happened to your self-confidence, girlfriend?”
“Wade has been trouncing all over it,” she muttered.
“Well, he’s an idiot if he doesn’t know what a great deal he’s got in you,” Annie said loyally.
“Maybe you should tell him that. I don’t think he’s figured it out by himself.” Laura shut her mouth when the waitress reappeared to take their order.
When Mildred—according to the plastic name tag pinned on her Pepto-Bismol-pink blouse—scuttled off, Annie leaned forward, all eyes, all ears and profound concentration. “Okay, what’s up with Wade?”
Laura hadn’t meant to unload on her friend, but she felt the urge to vent her frustration. “Well, for starters, he’s determined to dislike me. He nearly came unglued when I offered to give him a massage to help him relax. Sheesh, the way he carried on you’d think I possessed the touch of death. He rarely eats in the same room with me and you wouldn’t think it’d kill him to say thanks for dinner or for laundering his clothes or cleaning his house every once in a while. In fact, he bites backs the words please and thank you when they occasionally start to slip out.”
Annie slouched in the booth, nodded her head and said sagely, “Ah-ha.”
“Ah-ha, what? What’s that mean, Ms. I’m-Privy-To-Background-Information-On-Every-Resident-of-Podunk City?” Laura blew out a frustrated breath. “See there? What’d I tell you? Wade’s bad habit of being flippant and sarcastic is rubbing off on me.”
Annie grinned wryly. “Jeez, Laura, surely a smart woman like you can figure out what’s going on with you and Wade.”
“Well, color me stupid, but I don’t get it. All I know is that Bobbie Lynn disillusioned him. He mistrusts those of us of the female persuasion and I have this ridiculous obsession to prove to him that I’m not a blasted thing like her.”
“I’m no psychiatrist, but I’d say he finds you extremely attractive and that worries him so he’s trying to build walls to keep you at arm’s length.”
“Phfft!” Laura erupted. “Your analysis is way off base. He just doesn’t want me around, no matter what I try to do to earn his trust and friendship.”
Annie arched a delicate brow. “And you’re trying hard to win his trust and friendship because…?”
Laura squirmed uneasily and sent a prayer of thanks winging heavenward when Mildred returned with their burgers and fries, buying Laura time to collect her thoughts and her composure.
“Because?” Annie prompted.
She should’ve known Annie wouldn’t drop the subject. The woman, after all, had the tenacity of a pit bull.
When Laura pretended an interest in her basket of French fries, Annie snapped her fingers, demanding attention. “Because…?”
“You’re a real pest,” Laura grumbled.
“No, I’m not,” Annie replied. “I’m your best friend. I care about you and I feel responsible for convincing you to move here to teach. I also feel responsible because I’m the one who lined you up with this summer job when Quint and Vance were asking around town about a temp housekeeper. And if I were having man problems, I’d spill my guts to you so you could make me feel better. But since my boyfriend and I are getting along dandy fine, I don’t need a sounding board like you do. So, admit it. You’re sort of interested in Wade, aren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous.” The lie rang false the instant it popped off her tongue. “Besides, I just moved here.”
“Uh-huh,” Annie said.
Then Laura said, “I’m starting a new job in the school system.”
And Annie said, “Uh-huh.”
Laura said, “I’m not looking to start a relationship.”
Then Annie said, “Uh-huh.”
“And most certainly not with Count Grouchiness.”
“No, of course not,” Annie patronized, lips twitching.
“Clam up and eat, Annie,” Laura muttered darkly.
Annie threw up her hands, as if held at gunpoint. “Fine, but you need to brush up on your geography so you’ll realize this is the state of Oklahoma, not the state of Denial.”
“Cute.”
“Thanks. I like to think so,” she said, fluffing her hair and batting her lashes.
Laura couldn’t stay aggravated with Annie. Reluctantly she smiled and Annie smiled back and all was right with the world again. Even if Wade Ryder wanted to drive her away and her awareness of him just kept mushrooming from one day to the next. She couldn’t help thinking that beyond that six-feet-three-inches high and five-feet thick wall Wade had erected around his emotions there was a man she’d really like if he’d open up and share a small part of himself with her.
After their tasty meal, Annie offered to give Laura a tour of the town. She pointed out the tag agency so Laura could get her new driver’s license. She introduced her to the pharmacist at the drugstore, the owner of the hardware store, the furniture store and every other business owner in town.
Laura and Annie ended up in the town square where a concrete hoot owl in perpetual flight rose above the gurgling circular fountain. They treated themselves to snow cones from the sidewalk vender and sat down to rest after their hike. Annie’s boyfriend stopped by on his way into the courthouse and chatted a few minutes before tending his errands.
The afternoon spent with Annie was exactly what Laura needed to revive her spirits and regroup before purchasing groceries and supplies and heading back to engage in another verbal battle with Wade. Of course, there was the off chance that she’d get lucky and return home to discover that Wade had died of rabies during her absence, she mused with a wicked grin.
4
TIME HAD GOTTEN COMPLETELY away from Laura while gabbing with Annie. With a heavy foot on the accelerator Laura zoomed back to the ranch, knowing she’d probably catch hell from Wade for getting a late start on supper. The man didn’t need another excuse to criticize her.
According to Annie, Laura should continue swapping saucy retorts with Wade, just to let him know he couldn’t drive her away. Fine, she could do that. It sharpened her wits, after all, but she’d rather call a truce and be herself rather than being en guarde, lunging and parrying in verbal swordplay.
Arms laden with groceries, supplies and the potted plants she’d picked up on impulse, Laura struggled through the front door to see Wade lounging on his leather throne, surfing the TV channels. She ignored him, glancing instead at the closed drapes. She’d flung them open wide before leaving the ranch that morning. Now they were shut tightly, enshrouding the room in gloom and doom.
“What happened, Seymour? Did you get lost?” Wade asked. “I knew I should’ve given you a compass and drawn you a map.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you looming there in the shadows,” she tossed back flippantly as she juggled the paper sacks and plastic bags in both arms. Four more sacks dangled from her fingertips.
“I distinctly remember asking you not to yank open all the drapes and allow the glaring sunlight in here.”
“Right, Count Drac, I forgot that blood-sucking vampires prefer cryptlike darkness,” she countered as she headed for the kitchen without glancing in Wade’s direction. “Now where’d I put that stake I intended to drive through your heart? It’s never around when I need it.”
He ignored her taunt. “Why’d you change the furniture in here? I nearly broke my other leg when I rounded the corner, expecting the furniture to be exactly where I set it.”
“Well,” she said, halting in the middle of the room. “According to feng shui—”
“Who the hell is he? And what does he know about rearranging my ranch house!” he blustered.
“Feng shui is the Chinese philosophy of interior design,” she explained.
He let loose with a disgusted snort. Surprise, surprise.
“It’s based on the theory that if you change your environment, you can change aspects of your life.”
“I liked my life just fine until you got here,” he grumped.
“Well, feng shui will make you feel better,” she insisted, “because now this room is well balanced and well lighted—or it would be if you’d open the drapes. This room creates and promotes the flow of positive energy to counter your negativity.”
His response was another disgruntled snort.
“So, how’d the roundup and branding go today?” she asked.
“Fine. Quint got kicked in the shin while inoculating one of my calves,” he reported.
“I’m sure that made your day.”
“Damn, Seymour, whaddya do? Have your tongue sharpened while you were in town?” he called after her.
“Ah, you noticed. Glad to know I didn’t waste my money.”
“Are we eating tonight? Or am I supposed to chew on my fingernails to stave off the hunger pangs?” he asked.
Laura dumped the sacks on the kitchen counter and grinned to herself. She wasn’t sure, but the bite in his words didn’t seem as sharp as it once was. Now his tone leaned more toward teasing humor. Could it be that Wade actually missed having her around to torment and was actually glad to have her back? Naw, must be her imagination and Annie’s ridiculous notion that beneath all that razzing and taunting Wade liked her and was determined not to let it show.
“Supper will be ready at the usual time, Your Majesty,” she called to him. “Oh, and before I forget to tell you, I took the liberty of inviting Duff up to the house to dine with me tomorrow night.”
“Liberties aren’t included in your job description,” Wade threw back.
“Too bad. He’s going to teach me to play poker, guzzle beer and smoke cigars. He also promised to teach me how to two-step later in the week so Annie and I can go honky-tonkin’ Saturday night. She’s gonna set me up with a hot date.”
“You don’t have to shout,” Wade muttered as he propped himself against the kitchen wall.
“Sorry, I thought you were still in the living room.”
“I wouldn’t advise accepting any date Annie Nelson arranges for you. She has lousy taste in men.”
Laura paused from sorting and arranging the cold food in the fridge and flung him an annoyed glance. “There was nothing wrong with her taste in men during college. I met her boyfriend, Mark Childress, this afternoon. I’d give him an eight on a scale of ten.”
“A five would be pushing it,” he remarked.
Laura let her appreciative gaze wander over Wade’s muscular physique, admiring the way he filled out his shirt and jeans. Annie was right. Wade Ryder oozed sex appeal. He was definitely beefcake material and she’d like to sneak another peek at all the rippling muscle and sinewy flesh concealed beneath his clothes.
“Depends on who you’re comparing him to,” she said belatedly. Compared to Wade, Mark wouldn’t register a three.
Whoa, don’t even start comparing other men to Wade, she cautioned herself. That implied Wade was the standard measure of excellence.
“What are you looking at, Seymour?” he questioned as he glanced curiously down his torso. “Did I button my shirt improperly?”
Laura snapped her attention back to the interior of the fridge and placed the food on the glass shelves. “Not to worry. You’re properly buttoned up, except for your lip and it would require surgery to keep that shut.”
“I’m trying to make friendly conversation.” He scowled at her and his thick brows flattened menacingly over his eyes.
Friendly? That’d be the day. “Don’t strain yourself, Ryder. You have enough injuries already,” she snapped.
He held his tongue so long that Laura glanced up to determine the problem. Her breath lodged in her throat when those laserlike green eyes zeroed in on her. His penetrating gaze made a thorough sweep of her knit blouse, denim shorts and the exposed length of her legs. She felt her body burn each place his riveting gaze touched. Was something going on here that she’d missed while she had her head stuck in the fridge? How could they possibly have gone from snappy repartee to this sizzling sensual awareness that leaped back and forth between them like two-twenty volts of electrical current?
One smoldering look from Wade and desire contracted inside her like a coil of fire. She’d never experienced anything remotely like this before.
Laura felt as if time had ground to a halt, as if the looks passing between them were trying to define themselves. Yet, she wasn’t sure she could correctly decode the message he was sending because she constantly received mixed signals from him. Nevertheless, she was helpless to restrain the feminine vibes her body bleeped at him. Just what the heck was going on between them? She wished she knew for certain.
Was it hot in here? Suddenly the heat seemed stifling and breathing was a real chore. Her gaze dropped to the sensuous curve of his mouth and Laura was struck by the tormenting realization that she was starving to death for a taste of him. She wondered what it would be like to exchange kisses rather than saucy retorts, wondered how it would feel to be pressed familiarly against that rock-solid body, despite his encumbering cast and sling.
Call her reckless and crazy but she’d really, really like to know how it felt to be kissed and held by him. For the sake of curiosity, if nothing else. Oh right, who was she kidding? Her curiosity wasn’t the only thing that was dying to find out how well he kissed.
Laura’s heart stalled in her chest when Wade pushed away from the wall and took one, then two hobbling steps toward her. Then he halted in his tracks, muttered something to himself and stood there, looking at her as if he was waging some tormenting internal battle. Her heart plummeted to the tiled floor and she felt like whaling him upside the head for refusing to approach her. He just kept staring at her with that exasperating mixture of hungry need and wary caution.
Hoo-kay, if he didn’t have the gumption to just kiss her and get it over with then she’d have to take the initiative. After all, she’d come to Oklahoma to break old habits, explore her newfound freedom and make her own decisions without her brothers’ constant censorship.
Mustering her courage, Laura closed the small distance between them, pushed up on tiptoe and kissed him squarely on the mouth—and felt a blast of heat sweeping through every fiber of her being. Instinctively she pressed closer, craving something more. But Wade didn’t hook his right arm around her waist and pull her snugly against him. He didn’t even kiss her back—which was a huge disappointment. It didn’t do a thing for her self-confidence, either. He just stared at her with those glowing green eyes, as if he wanted to kiss her back but refused to let himself do it. Now she really wanted to whale him upside the head!
Determined to blunder through the awkward silence, Laura dropped down on her heels and plastered on a breezy smile to conceal her embarrassment—and there was plenty of that pulsating in her face, she was sure.
“Why’d you do that?” His voice crackled like static and his massive chest expanded with ragged breaths.
“Why didn’t you do it so I wouldn’t have to?” she countered shakily.
Seconds ticked by while she tried to draw a breath that wasn’t thick with the tantalizing scent of him. Hoo-boy, how was a woman supposed to extricate herself from such an awkward encounter? She had no idea! Why didn’t he say something, damn it? Snippy insults were better than this maddening silence that stretched between them like a rubber band about to snap.
“Well, that answers that,” she said lamely.
He didn’t so much as blink. His gaze just bored into her. “What was the question?”
Thoroughly exasperated, she swatted him on the chest with the back of her hand. “You’re impossible!”
“Then quit,” he suggested. His face was such an unreadable mask that she wanted to grab him by his shirt collar and shake the stuffing out of him.
“Not on your life, buster,” she erupted. “You can’t fire me and I refuse to leave. You’re stuck with me!”
“Not necessarily,” he begged to differ. “A cleverly arranged murder is still an option.”
She smirked at him. “You’d never get away with it. And you know what else?”
“I’m afraid to guess because I’m probably being graded on this, professor. You’ll deduct the number of wrong answers from the right ones and I’ll end up with a score of zero.”
Laura cocked her head and studied him pensively. Was he teasing her with that dry wit that could stir up a cloud of dust? She was pretty sure he was. Wow! A real breakthrough!
In a moment of what was surely impulsive insanity, Laura looped her arms around his neck, surged upward and kissed him again. His mouth softened ever so slightly, but she didn’t stick around to embarrass herself again, just in case he refused to kiss her back a second time. With a loud smack for her grand finale she broke the kiss, wheeled around and wobbled over to the sink, hoping he’d take his cue and leave so she could splash water on her face and cool off.
While Laura ran the faucets full blast and stared out the kitchen window Wade pivoted around and hobbled into the living room on one crutch, one broken leg and two unsteady knees that threatened to fold up like lawn chairs. He couldn’t breathe normally and sensual awareness echoed through him like feedback to a microphone. He made it to the recliner—barely—before he collapsed.
“Aw, damn,” Wade whispered roughly. And that was putting it mildly! He’d watched Laura bend over and poke her head in the fridge and his gaze and attention had been immediately drawn to the swell of her breasts and the alluring curve of her fanny. Desire had shot through him like a lightning bolt.
He’d taken two impulsive steps toward Laura then grabbed onto his self-control with both fists, telling himself that touching her would be a huge mistake because he was afraid to trust the hot, wild sensations she aroused in him and the ravenous hunger he felt for her. He’d been wrong to trust his feelings and desires before and he’d paid dearly, thanks to his ex. But Laura had had the courage to walk right up to him and finish what he’d foolishly started.
Now he wished he didn’t know that she tasted like raindrops during a spring shower. He wished he didn’t know that the slightest brush of her lush body could make him hard and aching in the time it took to hiccup. He wished he didn’t know that he’d never be satisfied not tasting her again, not touching, not being as close to her as two people could get because he was so intensely attracted to her that it was downright unnerving!
“Aw…damn…” he repeated. Another wave of tormenting desire crashed over him and threatened to drown him in forbidden wanting. What the hell was he going to do with that woman when he couldn’t fire her, she wouldn’t quit and he was starting to like her way too much?
THE NEXT DAY, WADE was still searching for the answer to that question while he lounged in his recliner. He glanced up from the TV when he heard the front door swing open. He inwardly groaned when Laura strolled inside, wearing a wet T-shirt and shorts that clung to her curvaceous body like a coat of paint. Traitorous desire delivered a quick knockout punch as his gaze roamed helplessly over her. Damn it! He’d been sitting here, listing all the reasons he needed to keep his distance from Laura and here she came again, tormenting him to no end. Wanting her, and refusing to do anything about it was wearing him out.
He frowned disapprovingly when he managed to drag his eyes off Laura’s shapely body and noticed Frank was at her heels. “What’s he doing in the house? He’s a cow dog.”
Laura reached down to pat Frank’s damp head. “I thought you might enjoy having Frank around for company, so Duff and I bathed him and applied some flea and tick medication.”
“I don’t want him in the house,” Wade insisted.
“Sure you do,” she contradicted as she crossed the room.
Her wet clothes demanded his attention again and he gritted his teeth against the insane urge to reach out and map the exquisite terrain of her feminine body. Well hell, so much for trying to stifle the desire that looking at her engendered. Arousal was becoming the conditioned response to seeing her. Damnation, he was turning into a basket case!
“Frank, you stay here and visit with Wade while I start supper,” she ordered, then headed for the kitchen. “Duff should be here soon.”
“Ooofff.” Wade grunted when Frank bounded onto his lap and sat there staring happily at him. Wade sighed in defeat and scratched behind Frank’s ear.
The woman was definitely taking over his home and his life, he realized. She dominated his thoughts, too. And lately, most of those thoughts originated below his belt buckle.
When Frank used Wade’s crotch as a springboard to bound from the chair, he grimaced uncomfortably. He muttered a salty curse when Frank trotted to the kitchen to rejoin Laura. Damn dog had turned traitor and was getting attached to Laura.
Wade sat there in his chair, wondering how much longer he could hold out against this woman’s devastating charms. She’d rearranged his life, left her memory all around his house and she had him wanting her to the extreme. He honestly wondered if the self-control he’d taken for granted for years could fortify him until she was out from underfoot. Wade had the uneasy feeling that one of these days he’d buckle to this inevitable attraction and wind up getting hurt all over again.
Would Laura be as hard on his heart as Bobbie Lynn had been? Wade liked to think not, but he still wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk of caring and finding out for sure.
“NO, NO, NO, YA DON’T CLAMP a cigar between your teeth like that,” Duff instructed. “Hold that bad boy like this.”
Laura watched her mentor of newly acquired vices bite down on his stogie and then she imitated his technique.
“That’s better,” Duff said. “Now squint your eyes a bit and look down at the cards in your hand. Don’t change expression, either. That’s a dead giveaway that you’re holding something good.”
Laura conjured up the somber expression that was Wade’s trademark then studied her poker hand. She glanced at the paper Duff had filled out so she’d know if a flush beat a straight and where a full house fit in the winning sequences.
“Now, casually take a sip of beer,” Duff told her. “And slouch in your chair a bit. You look as if you’re ready to pounce. Nonchalance is the name of the game here.”
Laura draped herself negligently in her chair and took another sip of beer. It wasn’t her beverage of choice, but in Duff’s book of etiquette, poker and beer went together like peanut butter and jelly.
“Gimme two,” Duff requested as he puffed his stogie and squinted at his hand of cards.
“You bet, slick. The dealer takes one.”
While Laura dealt the cards, Wade lingered by the kitchen door, feeling like an outsider in his own home. Earlier, while he was eating alone in the living room, he’d heard Duff and Laura jabbering and laughing and he’d turned an unbecoming shade of envy green because he wasn’t in there enjoying her company when he really wanted to be.
Duff, he noticed, had gotten all gussied up to join Laura at the table for dinner. You’d have thought the old coot was on a date, considering he’d shaved the stubble off his face and ironed his striped Western shirt and jeans.
Wade smiled in amusement as he watched Laura emulate Duff’s gestures and puff on the cigar she had clenched between her teeth. Well hell, he just couldn’t take this feeling of isolation another minute. He was going to limp in there and invite himself into the game. With Duff as a buffer he could share an enjoyable evening with Laura without doing something stupid—like kissing her senseless the way he wanted to.
Laura glanced up when Wade rounded the corner. He barked a laugh when she gave him an one-eyed squint, her poker face intact, her stogie tilted at a jaunty angle. “Better have your ATM card handy if you want to join in this game, ace,” she drawled playfully. “This is high stakes, y’know.”
Wade’s gaze dropped to the stack of pennies on the table then he hobbled over to retrieve what was left of the whiskey he’d poured down his gullet the first night Laura arrived.
“Duff says beer suits poker better,” Laura informed him.
“I’m sticking with Daniel’s.” Wade filled two glasses. “What’s up with this need to learn to play poker, Seymour?”
She shrugged casually. “I’ve led a sheltered life up to this point, so I’ve decided to broaden my horizons and Duff is helping me. Are you in on this hand, Ryder? Or do you want to sit there and nurse your whiskey?”
“I’m in. What’s the game?” Wade awkwardly parked himself in a chair while Duff dealt the hand.
“Seven card stud, stud,” Laura replied, grinning playfully around the stogie clamped in her teeth. “Duff’s teaching me a variety of games tonight.”
“She’s beaten me at half of ’em, too,” Duff said. “Even for a beginner, this little gal is dang lucky at cards.”
Wade took a quick peek at the two cards in the hole, then watched Duff deal four cards face up. He darted a glance at Laura’s exposed hand and he nearly choked on his booze. Three aces stared back at him. His accusing gaze swung to Duff who wore a wry grin. The old rascal was cheating. He had to be. He was letting Laura win to ensure she had a good time.
Sure enough, Laura breezed through the first two hands and collected all the pennies. After fifteen minutes of one incredible hand after another, no matter which game Duff suggested, Laura raked in the winnings.
“Go ahead and play without me,” she insisted as she snuffed out her stogie. “I left a load of laundry in the dryer and I better remove it before everything wrinkles.”
She leaned over to give Duff an affectionate peck on the cheek before she strode off. When Laura kissed Duff, Wade swore the old man died, right there in his chair, and went straight to heaven. Wade glanced over his shoulder, noting the sly smile on Laura’s lips—and he realized the woman was far cleverer than he’d given her credit. He’d bet his last penny that she’d purposely invited Duff to the house to treat him to a home-cooked meal and harmless female companionship, before luring in Wade so he could enjoy their company. Since Wade had made it clear he wanted to keep his distance from Laura, she’d ensured that he didn’t spend all his evenings alone. Frank, who was sprawled on the living-room floor, catching a few Zs, was another example of her wily strategy.
“That’s some woman,” Duff murmured as he dealt a hand of seven-card stud. “I can’t figure out why you wanted Quint and Vance to think she wasn’t doing her job…unless…”
Wade squirmed beneath Duff’s gimlet-eyed squint. “Unless what?”
“Unless you’re afraid of getting too attached to her,” he said perceptively.
“Are we going to play poker or gab?” Wade asked.
“I can do both at once.” Duff picked up his cards and gave them a quick look-see. “If I was thirty years younger you wouldn’t see me trying to drive that perty little gal away.”
“Well, you’re not, so act your age and ante up.”
Duff chuckled as he flipped a penny toward the center of the table. “Gonna play your hand close to your vest, are you, boy? Okay, fine. You do that. But you need to know that Frank and I are perty attached to that little gal.”
No kidding. Wade would’ve sworn his loyal cow dog would never defect to the enemy camp. They’d worked cattle together for years and Frank often rode shotgun in the pickup when Wade made trips into town. They were best buddies. But it was evident that Frank was allowing a woman to come between them.
“You should see Frank follow at that gal’s heels when she ventures outside,” Duff went on. “She always takes time to give him a pat on the head or scratch behind his ears. She must’ve picked up some dog treats in town because I saw her slip one to Frank while she was running water in the cattle tank for me after supper.”
Swell, thought Wade. His dog was suffering a bout of puppy love and so was Duff. Quint and Vance thought Laura was the perfect temp help who could do no wrong. The whole world was ganging up on him.
Despite how hard Wade tried not to get emotionally attached, he liked having Laura around. Worse, he’d actually missed her when she’d gone to town and he’d sat there in his chair, ears pricked, listening for the sound of her car zooming down the graveled road.
“You gonna bet or sit there staring into space, boy?” Duff prompted.
“Depends on whether you’re going to cheat the way you did while Laura was in the game,” Wade flung back.
Duff grinned unrepentantly. “I just wanted to show her a good time during her first experience at poker. So shoot me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Wade tossed a penny on the table.
Duff snickered as he called the bet. “Maybe you oughta just shoot yourself and put yourself out of your misery. Knowing you, it’d be easier than admitting you actually like having that little gal around. And just so you know, I may be old, but I ain’t blind. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you don’t think anyone notices, so don’t bother denying it.”
Wade scowled sourly when Duff laid his winning hand on the table. “Damn, sometimes you just can’t win for losing.”
Duff gathered up the beer cans and tossed them in the trash. “You’ve got a win-win situation going here. Don’t screw it up, son. Give yourself a chance at happiness.”
With that parting advice Duff walked out the back door to return to his cabin. Wade’s shoulders slumped. He reached for his whiskey and took a sip, wishing the taste of liquor could curb the thirst that had been tormenting him. He wanted to feel Laura’s lush mouth beneath his again, to feel her shapely body brushing against him. But he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop with a few kisses.
Afraid. There was that word again. The more he thought about it, the more he thought Laura might be right. He was afraid. Not of women in general, but afraid of her. Afraid his self-control would slip and his suppressed feelings for her would come pouring out. Afraid of this ever-growing attraction. Afraid of the pleasure he derived from being with her—and not just in bed. He could’ve accepted and acknowledged the sexual attraction. It was a given. It was these deeper feelings that really had him worried.
Wade knocked back another drink, shuffled the cards and played solitaire until he was tired enough to hit the sack. But when he retired for the night, he kept picturing Laura smoking a cigar, squinting up at him with a cocky grin, sipping a longneck—in attempt to broaden her horizons.
Wade fell asleep with a grin on his lips.
SATURDAY NIGHT, BORED nearly to death, Wade sat in his recliner, surfing the TV channels and finding not one decent program to watch. When an unexpected knock rattled the front door, Wade glanced sideways. “It’s open!”
His curious gaze transformed into a sour scowl when Kevin Shelton, the history teacher, walked inside. Brown hair neatly clipped and styled, Kevin stood there on two good legs, his hands tucked in the pockets of his khaki slacks. His trendy clothes and good looks caused Wade to mutter under his breath. In comparison to Mr. Teacher of the Year, Wade felt like a beat-up old geezer.
“Hi, Wade,” Kevin said. “Is Laura ready?”
“Probably not,” Wade grumbled. “She’s a woman, after all. Isn’t it indigenous of the gender to always be late?”
“Hi, Kevin,” Laura called out—proving Wade wrong about her punctuality. She emerged from the hall, looking all too seductive in a tight-fitting miniskirt that emphasized the length and feminine curve of her legs and thighs.
“Well, isn’t this cute?” Wade said under his breath. “Here’s Ken and Barbie, decked out for a night on the town.”
He stifled the feelings of possessiveness that roiled through him. He didn’t want Laura to go out with Kevin, but he had no right whatsoever to object. “You better have her home early,” Wade demanded before he could stop himself.
Laura’s sculpted brows elevated in surprise as she glanced over her shoulder to stare curiously at Wade.
“Sure thing,” Kevin said, smiling awkwardly.
“She punches the clock at seven sharp in the morning. I don’t want her dragging butt when there’s work to do.” God, he sounded like a grumpy idiot. Jealousy was gnawing at his male pride and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“Not to worry, boss.” Laura slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, causing the clingy fabric of her knit top to strain against her breasts. Wade glowered when he noticed Kevin’s attention had dipped to her bosom. “My duties won’t suffer, you can count on it,” she assured him.
Wade crooked his finger at her, summoning her to him. When Laura walked toward him, his male hormones started bouncing around like a pinball. He willfully ignored the drastic effect she had on him.
“What do you know about this guy?” Wade asked quietly.
“Not much, but Annie likes him,” Laura reported.
“Then maybe Annie should date him,” Wade muttered. “For all we know he might be the modern version of the Boston Strangler and Jack the Ripper rolled into one.”
Laura snickered. “That should make you happy. If he murders me and dumps me in the nearest river you’ll be rid of me without dirtying your hands with the dastardly deed.”
“Hadn’t thought of it that way,” he said, just so she wouldn’t get the idea that he cared what happened to her.
“Anything else, boss?” she asked when she noticed Kevin had shifted impatiently from one well-shod foot to the other.
“Yeah, if he drinks, you drive home,” he instructed. “He’s probably a lush in hiding.” He shot Kevin a black look. “And if he gets fresh, let me know and I’ll send my cousins over to kick his preppy butt.”
She grinned outrageously. “Maybe I want him to get fresh. Maybe I’m looking for a little action. Ever think of that? It’s my life, you know, and I’m broadening all my horizons.”
Wade went into a slow burn. Envy and jealousy ate at him like battery acid. “If you aren’t home by midnight I’m coming to find you, broken leg or not. Got it?” He flashed Kevin another thunderous glare for good measure. If Mr. Teacher of the Year wasn’t on his best behavior, Wade wanted it understood that there’d be hell to pay. When Kevin squirmed beneath the piercing stare, Wade was pretty sure he’d gotten his silent message across.
“Just stay on guard, Seymour,” Wade cautioned. “You’ve broadened your horizons enough for the week.”
“Your concern is touching,” she said, grinning. “That’s really sweet of you, Ryder.”
“I’m anything but sweet and you know it,” he grumbled before she sauntered over to join her handsome date.
When the door closed behind them Wade swore ripely. He knew Kevin Shelton was closer to Laura’s age and more her type, but that didn’t stop him from wishing that blond knockout was on his arm tonight.
Frustrated, Wade switched to the Discovery channel to watch the next exciting installment on baboons that got liquored up on fermented fruit in the jungles and awoke with hellish hangovers.
5
WADE HOBBLED DOWN THE HALL to complain about the fact that it had been two days and Laura still hadn’t moved the furniture back to its normal arrangement. Also, she’d flung the drapes open wide—again—after Duff had driven him into town for a doctor’s appointment and a haircut. Even with the new walking cast the physician had wrapped around his leg and the lack of the sling on his arm, Wade had nearly tripped and fallen as he rounded the corner to the kitchen—again. He’d conked his head on that blasted hanging plant Laura had placed near the front door on the porch. She’d spaded up the unattended garden that encircled the front porch, planted scads of colorful flowers that attracted butterflies and humming birds. You couldn’t walk outside without getting slapped in the face with sweet scents or winged insects.
Damn it, she was turning his house into a jungle and decorating the place in a girlie manner. There were baskets of potpourri and scented candles taking up space on the end tables and coffee table. The house smelled…well, sissified. It offended his masculinity. If this kept up he wouldn’t recognize the place. The woman had definitely gone too far! He had to put a stop to it.
Already, he barely recognized Frank! Now that Laura had allowed the cow dog in the house—against his orders, he might add!—the canine rubbed up against his leg, shoved his snout under Wade’s hand and demanded to be petted. The dog was getting soft, lounging around the house instead of chasing rabbits, possums and raccoons that tried to overrun the place. Frank had been perfectly satisfied with his lot in life as a cow dog until Laura started fawning and fussing over him, feeding him doggie treats and taking him with her on long evening walks and horseback rides. Another month of this and Frank wouldn’t be worth shooting!
As for Duff, he was so besotted with “that little gal” that he’d yakkety-yakked all the way to Hoot’s Roost and back. He’d reported that Laura had been showing up on his doorstep with covered plates of roast beef, fried chicken and gravy, and stayed to polish her poker skills or practice the two-step. Wade, however, sat alone on his leather recliner, watching the boob tube and listing the reasons he should keep his distance from that woman.
Then, of course, there were Quint and Vance whose recent prank involved leaving cutout hearts made of red construction paper on the pickup seat. Earlier in the week Vance had disguised his voice and phoned to tell Wade that he’d won an all-expense-paid honeymoon vacation to the Bahamas. Wade scowled. His life was out of control and it was Laura’s fault.
Wade pulled up short in the hall when he heard Laura’s cell phone ring while she was putting away his laundry.
“Hello, handsome,” she said cheerily. “How’ve you been?”
Handsome? Who the hell was she talking to this time? He’d heard Laura answer her phone the previous day with: “Hi, gorgeous? How are you, Jerret?” How many men did this bombshell keep on a string at one time?
“My job is going fine. I figured you’d call as soon as you got my postcard from my new residence in Oklahoma,” she said, then paused when the man—obviously—on the other end of the line inserted a comment. “Who? Wade Ryder? The old rancher I’m working for? Are you kidding?”
Old? Wade winced. She thought he was old? The eight years separating them wasn’t so much, was it? To hear her talk, Wade was fast approaching his golden years.
“No, he isn’t much trouble,” Laura insisted. “I stir up oatmeal so he can gum it for breakfast. For lunch I open a can of soup, mash it up and serve it to him. I put a bib around his neck so he doesn’t dribble all over his clothes.”
Gum it? Wear a bib? Hell! Wade smoldered in offended dignity. Obviously she didn’t want her boyfriend to fret about male competition.
“Don’t be absurd, Davie. The man has a broken leg, a sprained wrist and bruised ribs. He can’t chase me around the kitchen and he certainly couldn’t catch me. I’m perfectly safe. Stop stewing…So how are things in Denver?”
No doubt Laura had left more than one lover behind in Colorado. Then, of course, there was that “hot date” Laura had accepted with Kevin Shelton and met up with Annie Nelson and her twerp boyfriend on Saturday night. Wade was thankful he hadn’t allowed himself to succumb to the need to kiss Laura back. It sounded as if she delighted in playing the field and keeping all her options open…just like Bobbie Lynn.
The thought caused Wade’s brow to pucker in annoyance. His instincts were right on target. He’d known this situation with Laura had Waterloo written all over it from the beginning. It was a damn good thing he’d kept his distance, even if his physical attraction to her was driving him nuts.
“Of course, I’ll come back to Denver before I start teaching in the fall,” Laura assured the caller, then paused to listen a moment. “I already told you I’m not falling for this old fogy rancher. He’s a grouch, among other things, so stop worrying about me, will you?”
Wade grimaced. If Laura thought he was an old coot and big grump, why had she kissed him that day in the kitchen? He’d thought there’d been some kind of connection between them. Something like, oh, say, mutual attraction. Apparently she’d just been toying with him.
Wade was still standing in the hall, simmering in irritation when Laura said, “I love you, too, Davie,” then disconnected. Before Wade could regain his composure and step around the corner her phone rang again. Man, she had men lined up like jets on a runway, didn’t she?
“Hi, Everett. I’ve been expecting your call. How was your trip?…Yes, Mr. Ryder is doing better.” She sighed audibly in response to whatever lover boy Everett had to say. “Will you stop freaking out? Nothing is going on here. Mr. Ryder doesn’t even like me so you can quit thinking I’m being mauled on a regular basis.”
Obviously Everett asked for a description of Wade because Laura said, “Oh, he’s a shriveled-looking old guy with ill-fitting dentures and a cast on one leg. He went to the doctor for a checkup, so he no longer has the sling on his arm, just a bandage on his sprained wrist. He wears faded overalls, has a patch over one eye from cataract surgery and his steel-wool-gray hair stands out every which way from his head. Are you satisfied now that nothing is going on between us?”
Wade gnashed his teeth until he nearly ground off the enamel. Laura was painting quite an unattractive picture of him so her boyfriend wouldn’t be jealous. Of course, Dear Everett probably had no idea that he was her third caller in two days and that she’d painted the town red with the high school history teacher.
“I love you, too, Everett,” she murmured then hung up.
Wade gathered a full head of steam, prepared to light into Laura for the furniture arrangement, candles, potpourri and frothy green plants that littered the house and the front and back porches. And he couldn’t forget those uncomplimentary descriptions of him. He didn’t even make it into the room before that blasted cell phone rang again. Hell, he was going to have to make an appointment to bite her head off.
“Hi, Michael. I’ve been expecting your call,” she enthused. “I miss you, too…. Oh, God, you didn’t!”
Wade waited expectantly, wondering what Dear Michael had done that provoked her disapproval.
“I can’t believe you did that!” she huffed. “Of course, Wade Ryder doesn’t have a criminal record. He’s a rancher not a bank robber.”
Wade’s eyes popped. This boyfriend was so paranoid that he had Wade checked out? Man, talk about thorough, suspicious and excessively jealous!
“Well, that must’ve been a typo,” Laura said into the phone. “He’s not thirty-three. He’s eighty-three. He wears hearing aids and I have to yell so he can understand what I’m saying to him. He has no hair, wears eyeglasses as thick as ice cubes and has very few teeth. His favorite friend in the whole world is his dog. Now, do you really think I’m going to have romantic notions about the man?…I’m perfectly safe here and I’ll be back in Colorado for a week before the fall session of school starts. In the meantime, you need to get a grip, Michael. I’m not falling in love with Wade Ryder so you can calm down and relax.”
Wade didn’t wait for Laura to disconnect because he figured he’d have to barge in before another incoming call demanded her attention. The moment Laura realized he’d been standing in the hall, eavesdropping on her conversations, her face turned a fascinating shade of guilty-as-hell red. His condemning gaze locked on her and he didn’t let her off the hook when she flashed him a blinding smile.
“Bald? Toothless? Gums his food?” Wade gritted out.
Her chin came up and she stared defiantly at him. “You have no room to complain, Ryder. Duff said that you told Vance and Quint that I can’t cook, don’t clean and that I sleep until nine, at which time you wake me up to fix your meal.”
“Well, that’s different,” he muttered.
“How are your white lies different from mine?” she asked, arching a challenging brow.
“I’m trying to get rid of you since you won’t quit.”
“And I’m trying to reassure Michael, David, Everett and Jerret that nothing is going on between us so they’ll stop worrying about me.”
“Just how many lovers do you usually keep on a fishing stringer at a time?” he asked brusquely.
“None,” she replied just as brusquely.
“Oh, really? Then what was that ‘Hi, handsome’ and ‘Hello, gorgeous’ all about?” he challenged.
Laura spun around to stuff Wade’s clean briefs in the dresser drawer. “I have four overprotective brothers who happen to be every bit as handsome as you are—”
Laura slammed her mouth shut and darted him an embarrassed glance. She hadn’t intended to let her tongue loose without first engaging her brain. Wade stared at her, flashing a rare smile, undoubtedly gloating over her unintentional compliment. As if he didn’t already know he was drop-dead handsome, the jerk.
“You think I’m handsome?” he asked. “Without hair or teeth? Wearing overalls and listening to you yell at me because I’m hard of hearing? I gotta tell ya, Seymour, with you it’s hard to separate the lies from the truth. So what is the truth? Were those your boyfriends or your brothers?”
Laura shoved the dresser drawer shut with her hip and stamped over to the walk-in closet to hang up his chambray shirts. “They are my older brothers. My mom died when I was six and I lost Dad when I was twelve. My brothers taught me to work, but when it comes to friendships and relationships they watch over me like mother hens, because my dad made them promise to take care of me. I can’t even turn around without one of my brothers looking over my shoulder, checking on me, telling me what to do and how to do it.”
“So you packed up and moved to Hoot’s Roost and you’re bustin’ loose in Oklahoma with your newfound liberation,” he presumed. “You’re trying your hand at poker, beer and cigars because your brothers aren’t around to advise you against it?”
“Precisely.” Laura strode from the closet to pluck up two pairs of jeans that had the left leg whacked off at the knee to accommodate Wade’s cast. “My brothers are afraid I’ll fall for some jerk who doesn’t deserve me while they aren’t around to screen my dates and do background checks. My mistake was actually giving them your name. I should’ve lied about that, too, so Michael couldn’t run your criminal record.” She glanced at him sweetly. “But it’s nice to know you aren’t a convicted rapist or murderer.”
“Just a grouch,” he remarked, smiling grudgingly.
“Right, Mr. McGrump, so what do you want for lunch?”
“Fried crow, maybe,” he said. “I guess you aren’t some floozy who toys with men.”
Laura nearly fell over when Wade smiled at her again. This was a genuine, good-natured, peace-treaty smile and it made her weak in the knees. Her heart somersaulted around her chest, making it difficult to breathe normally.
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