Fugitive Fiancée (8 page)

Mimi smiled as she turned the page. She wondered if Katherine had penned her journal in this very barn over one hundred years ago.

“Watch out for those cowboys,” Mimi warned softly under her breath. Then she turned to the next journal entry.

Mimi heard a high-pitched whine and finally looked up from the old journal. Hubert sat at her feet, wagging his cropped tail.

“Did you get tired of waiting for me?” she asked, rising to her feet. She looked around the tack room,
orienting herself once again to the present. Then she gently placed the journal in the oversize pocket of the coveralls. Giddy excitement washed through her at the discovery. As an archivist, she found this old journal more valuable than a pot of gold.

Whistling for Hubert to follow, she turned off the light in the tack room, then walked out the barn door, pulling it shut behind her. The mercury light illuminated the path to the house, and Mimi could feel the weight of the journal in her pocket as she walked.

It was strange to think that the author was a girl of eighteen who had at one time lived on this very ranch. She must have hidden her journal in the barn. No doubt to keep it out of reach of nosy brothers and sisters. Or perhaps her mother, who didn't sound as enthusiastic about the dashing Boyd Harrison as Katherine.

Reading about the young girl's troubles made her think of her own problems. Her family. Her father might be autocratic and high-handed. Might have lied to her. But she knew deep down that despite all his faults, he did love her. And she loved him, even if she wasn't ready to confront him yet.

As Mimi walked into the silent house and hung up her coveralls on the hook by the door, she wondered if her father was worried about her. And even more important, if he was taking good care of himself.

She carefully pulled the old journal from the pocket of the coveralls, then walked to the bedroom. She sat down at Garrett's desk and pulled open the top drawer. Inside, she saw a small stack of plain white postcards.

Before she could have time for second thoughts,
she penned a short note to her father. Then she added a stamp and ran the card out to the mailbox. Garrett had already placed his outgoing mail in the box, so she knew he wouldn't see it and question her about it.

Back in the bedroom, she changed into her nightshirt and burrowed under the covers. She wanted to read more of the journal, but exhaustion overcame her. Shortly after her head hit the pillow, she fell fast asleep.

And dreamed about kissing Garrett Lord behind a hog shed.

 

G
ARRETT HAD
one chance left.

If he didn't want to spend the next four weeks fighting his feelings for Mimi, he had to find a way to make her leave. Today.

She walked into the kitchen, her blond hair pulled into a sassy ponytail and a wide smile on those delectable lips. “Isn't it a beautiful morning?”

Garrett looked up from his third cup of coffee, wondering where he'd gone wrong. After staying up half the night, Mimi looked better today than the day she'd arrived. His eyelids felt like sandpaper every time he blinked, and he'd been yawning practically nonstop since his alarm clock had gone off at six.

“Mmm, that coffee smells delicious.” She moved toward the counter and poured herself a steaming cup. Then she turned to face him. “So what's on the agenda today, boss?”

“Chores first,” he said, setting his fork on his plate. “Then we'll check the cows. After that…” He hesitated, wondering if he was playing fair. Mimi might
be a city girl, but she'd shown spunk and determination he'd rarely seen in a woman. Truth be told, she was turning into a hell of a fine ranch hand, even if she did have a few unorthodox methods. Like herding cattle with cow pies.

She sat across from him and picked up a piece of buttered toast. “Don't keep me in suspense.”

He looked into her sky-blue eyes and experienced the same odd reaction he'd had outside the corral. She was just so damn enticing. He'd almost blown it last night. Almost kissed her again. And that definitely wasn't in her job description. Hell, he'd be lucky if she didn't sue him for sexual harassment.

It was time to send Mimi home, before he gave in to these ridiculous urges. Before he did something he was sure to regret.

“After we check the cows,” he said, taking a deep breath and plunging ahead before he could change his mind, “we're going to do some target practice in the canyon.”

She paled. “Target practice. As in guns?”

“That's right. You know how to shoot a rifle, don't you?”

“Actually, no. Maybe I should just stay here and…keep an eye on the cows.”

He shook his head. “Every ranch hand needs to know how to handle a rifle. You'll have to ride Flint today. Pooh isn't used to the sound of gunfire.”

From the disgruntled expression on her face, neither was Mimi. Garrett ignored the way his conscience pricked at him the rest of the morning. Clearing predators off the place was part of a ranch hand's duties.
If Mimi couldn't handle the job, then she didn't belong here. It was pure and simple.

His resolve began to waver three hours later as they rode their horses single file into the canyon just south of the ranch. She looked pale on her horse, a huge gray gelding Garrett had assured her wouldn't bolt at the sound of gunfire or at the sight of a rattlesnake.

He wished he could be as certain about her.

But I want her to bolt,
he reminded himself.
All the way back to Austin.

Garrett reined in his horse and waited for Mimi to catch up with him.

Her gaze traveled slowly over the canyon. “I don't see any rattlesnakes.”

“It's a good thing,” he said, climbing from his horse and looping the reins around the stump of a mesquite tree, “since you don't know how to shoot yet.”

She stayed astride Flint. “Did I mention I don't like guns? That I've never even touched a gun before?”

He checked the barrel of the rifle just to make sure it was empty. “It's part of the job, Mimi. Take it or leave it.”

Mimi bit her bottom lip, obviously considering her options. Garrett's heart began to pound hard in his chest as he awaited her decision. Which was odd, since he didn't have anything at stake except his peace of mind.

“I'll take it,” she said quietly, then dropped down off her horse. After hitching it to the same mesquite tree, she took the rifle out of his hands.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“No.” The rifle shook slightly in her hands, but
her gaze didn't waver from his face. “But I'm sure I want to stay on as your ranch hand, so I'll do whatever is necessary.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Why?”

She hesitated. “Because it's important to me. I set out to prove to you that I'm more than just some fluffy city girl. But now I want to prove it to myself. If I have to shoot a few rattlesnakes to do it, then…I will.”

He'd lost, and he knew it, but he couldn't back down now. The way her hands were shaking, she'd be lucky to hit the side of the canyon. “Okay. Time for your first lesson.”

She perched the butt of the rifle against her shoulder. “I'm ready.”

“Good. Now put the rifle down.”

She lowered the barrel until it touched the ground, then frowned at him. “I thought you wanted me to learn to shoot.”

“I do. But the most important part of learning to shoot is making sure you don't shoot yourself. Or me.” He leaned forward and pointed near the trigger. “This is the safety switch. Always make sure it's on before you pick up any gun. Once it's in position, the trigger will not engage.” He demonstrated for her, then had her try it for herself.

“Okay,” she said, “the safety is on.”

“Now you need to see if the rifle is loaded.” He took the rifle from her hands, then pumped it once. “This is the chamber.”

She peered into it. “Looks empty to me.”

“Right. But that's no guarantee. Pump it at least
three more times just to make certain. If there is a bullet in there, it won't pump.”

Her blond brows drew together. “This all sounds extremely complicated. When do I get to shoot something?”

He handed her the rifle. “Okay, the safety is on and the chamber is empty. Now it's time to lock and load.”

He showed her how to place a rifle shell in the chamber and lock it into place. “Aim for that juniper tree over there.”

She placed the butt of the rifle against her shoulder, then cracked one eye open as she looked down the barrel of the gun. “Now what do I do?”

“Gently squeeze the trigger. And be ready for—” His words were drowned out as the shell exploded from the rifle. The recoil sent Mimi flying backward. She landed with a hard thud right on her rear end.

He bit back a smile as he helped her to her feet. “I tried to warn you about that.”

“You could have said something sooner,” she sputtered, wiping dirt and sage grass off the back of her jeans. Then she reached up to rub her shoulder. “That hurt.”

“You just have to be prepared for it next time.”

She peered at her target. “Did I hit the tree?”

“Not quite. Next time, don't close both eyes when you pull the trigger. Hold the butt of the rifle tightly against your shoulder and brace your feet with your left leg slightly out in front.”

“How?”

“Like this.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her so he could place the rifle in the
correct position on her shoulder. He could smell her hair and the faint, earthy scent of perspiration on her neck. Her body leaned slightly into his as she adjusted her footing. Garrett bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, attempting to remain immune to her nearness. And failing miserably.

“Okay, I think I'm ready,” she said.

Garrett stepped back, his heart beating an erratic tattoo in his chest. He watched Mimi turn on the safety switch, check the chamber, then lock and load. Clenching her jaw, she took careful aim at the juniper tree and cracked one eye open. Then she fired.

Garrett's jaw dropped in disbelief as one of the branches exploded off the tree.

“I did it!” This time the recoil of the rifle had backed her up a couple steps, but she'd managed to stay on her feet. “Did you see that, Garrett?”

“I sure did.” He handed her another shell. “Now let's see if it was just a lucky shot.”

She missed the next two, but connected on the third.

The shooting lesson continued long into the afternoon. At last they stopped to lunch on the tuna salad sandwiches Mimi had prepared. He almost could have enjoyed their impromptu picnic if he didn't feel so sneaky. Mimi was thrilled with her shooting success and anxious to try more target practice. Only she didn't know the kind of shooting he had in mind.

“I want to aim for something smaller now,” she said, licking bread crumbs off her fingers. She rose to her feet and reached for the rifle.

He was about to suggest shooting at a stunted shrub
when his intended prey came into target. Much sooner than he'd expected.

“Is something wrong?” she asked as he rose slowly and carefully to his feet.

He nodded toward the small outcropping of rocks just to the east of them. “Look over there. A coyote.”

Her gaze finally caught sight of the small coyote, still oblivious to their presence.

“He's beautiful,” she breathed.

Garrett thought the critter just looked mangy and scrawny. But then his opinion was probably colored by the fact that coyotes like this one killed a number of his calves every season. “Shoot him.”

She gaped at him. “What?”

“He's a predator, Mimi. If you don't shoot him, he may kill that calf we watched come into the world last night.” He handed her a rifle shell.

She stared at it as if she'd never seen one before. Then she slowly loaded it into the rifle.

“Quiet now,” he whispered as she pumped the rifle. “You don't want to run him off.”

Mimi perched the rifle on her shoulder, her face pale and drawn. Something in her blue eyes made Garrett's stomach give a sickening lurch. He opened his mouth to stop her when the rifle exploded. He whirled to look at the coyote.

The shot flew clear over its head, but the coyote didn't stick around to give her another chance. It scampered behind the rocks and out of sight.

Garrett turned to face Mimi. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she held the rifle toward him. “I missed.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said, taking the rifle from her. “It was a tough shot.”

“You don't understand, Garrett. I missed on purpose.” She spun on her heel and strode toward her horse. It only took her a few seconds to untie the reins and mount up.

“Mimi, wait,” he said, regret churning in his gut.

“Looks like you were right,” she said, her hands gripping the reins. “I don't belong here.”