The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 1 (2 page)

She sighed. Just last week she’d given herself a stern talking-to about facing her problems instead of bolting. Of course, in this case, her problems were bigger than she’d first imagined. Better to run than be shot.

Why
had
those men pulled guns on her? What was Hal going to say when he found out she was gone? What was her mother going to say?

She stared out the window while the driver tried to make conversation. The rain was stronger now. It felt as if it had been raining for weeks. As they circled around Grand Springs, she noticed there was a lot of mud on the highway and she didn’t see any lights. Looked like there was still a power outage. Maybe it would be enough to distract everyone so they wouldn’t notice she was gone.

If only that were true, she thought as the eighteen-wheeler drove southwest…toward safety.

Chapter One

Brady Jones leaned back in his chair, ignoring the loud creak as worn springs protested his weight. They’d been doing it since his dad had retired five years ago. Like everything on the West Texas ranch, the chair wasn’t new or fancy, but it worked and he figured it would outlast them all.

He glanced from the application he held to the woman perched uneasily on the straight-back wooden chair in front of his scarred desk. When she caught him looking, she gave him a big smile that didn’t make a dent in the worry lurking in her dark blue eyes.

Another hard-luck case, he thought as he dropped the application onto the printouts he’d been going through when she arrived. He’d always been good at spotting them. For one thing, the duffel bag at her feet was too small to contain more than a couple changes of clothing. She’d hitched a ride to the ranch instead of driving. Then there was the matter of her application. Too many lines left blank, too many vague references he wouldn’t be able to check out. No home address. No relatives.

He should kick her out on her shapely butt, because he didn’t need her kind of trouble, or temptation. That particular lesson had been hard won and never forgotten. These days he avoided women with mysterious pasts.

He
should
get rid of her, but as Tex would be happy to tell him, he was a bleeding-heart sucker for anything or anybody in need. So instead of saying the position had already been filled, he leaned back further, placed his booted feet on the desk and gave the woman an encouraging nod. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Ms.—” he glanced at the application “—Ms. Rita Howard.”

“I’m good with horses,” the woman said quickly. “I didn’t grow up on a ranch, but I’ve had lots of experience. I’ve been riding since I was about seven. I started with English and dressage, but one day I used a western saddle and I was hooked.”

This time her smile reached her eyes, brightening them until they gleamed like sun-soaked lake water on a perfect summer day. Brady nearly groaned out loud. He didn’t want to notice that, nor did he want to admit that he was itching to reach across the desk and touch one of the black curls springing free from her braid. She’d obviously combed her hair recently and braided it tightly in an effort to keep the curls in order, but it was a hopeless task. He would bet that by the end of the day, her hair was in complete disarray. Unfortunately, the image enchanted him.

“I worked in a stable all through high school,” she said. “I know my way around horses, Mr. Jones—”

“Brady,” he said, interrupting.

“Okay. Brady. I work cheap, I’m dependable, I don’t make trouble.” She shrugged. “I understand your reservations. You don’t know me from a rock, so you’re going to have to take my word about my good qualities.” She bit her lower lip. “I guess that’s it.”

She had a heart-shaped face and a cupid’s bow mouth. Stupid details to notice, he told himself. He would hire her or not hire her based on her abilities and his gut. His daddy had always taught him to listen to his gut, and so far, it had only let him down once. Of course, that other time had involved a woman, too, but he wasn’t going to think about that now.

Logically he shouldn’t give her a try. There was no reason to trust anything she’d said. Especially the part about not making trouble.

“There’s one thing you left out,” he said, lowering his feet to the floor. “You’ve got nowhere else to go.”

He met her gaze squarely, watching pride wrestle with reality. If only she knew how hard he wished she would claim some other job opportunity or a friend willing to take her in. He didn’t want this to be the end of her line.

She blinked twice, but didn’t speak. He swore silently. She didn’t have to speak; the quiver at the corner of her mouth said it all.

“I’ve gotten by before,” she said, and rose to her feet. “I’ll manage. Thanks for the interview, Mr. Jones.” She picked up her duffel bag and an expensive-looking purse.

Brady waited for the feeling from his gut. There wasn’t one. Only the voice in his head telling him to be damn careful because he’d been down this particular road before and it had a way of flattening a man.

“How about a week’s trial?” he said. “If things work out, you can stay on.”

She’d made it to the office door, where she paused, then turned back. “You’re saying if I don’t like the working conditions or job description, I’m free to move on to something more upwardly mobile?”

He grinned. “Sure thing. A place with a corner office, maybe.”

Another black curl worked its way free and dangled by her cheek. She shifted her purse to her shoulder and brushed the strand away impatiently. “I’d like that. The job, not the corner office.”

“Great,” he said, even as his gut belatedly kicked in. The feeling warned him that the decision he’d just made was going to change his life forever. He could only hope this time it would be for the better.

He rose to his feet and named a salary. “That’s weekly and includes room and board,” he added. “The stables are your responsibility. You’ll be up early. I want the horses fed by five so they’ll have at least an hour to digest their food before the cowboys get them some time around six. After you muck out the stalls, you’ll be responsible for exercising any horses not being used that day.”

Rita nodded. “I’m familiar with the work involved. I know I don’t look very strong, but I’m tough and I’m good. You’ll have to wait and let me prove that.”

Because he was ten different kinds of a fool, Brady actually wanted her to show him she was terrific. He wanted to be dazzled, and not just by her smile. Obviously he needed to get out more.

“You have a week,” he said. “There are a couple of high school boys who work in the afternoon. They take care of the horses when the cowboys are done, so you won’t be responsible for that. Any extra time you have, you tell Tex and he’ll give you chores. You have Saturday and Sunday afternoons off.”

“Sounds great. Is there something you want me to do now?”

“You can start in the morning.” He studied her face, trying to discover her secrets. A pointless exercise. She would tell him or not, in her own time. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know. For both of them.

He crossed the worn wooden floor and stopped next to her. Her left hand hung at her side. He picked it up and turned it over so he could see her palm.

At the base of her middle finger sat a large circle of raw skin. Other blisters—some healed, some still filled with clear fluid—formed an angry pattern across her flesh. He rubbed a couple of thick patches, feeling the calluses formed by hard work.

Rita Howard might know her way around a stable, but she hadn’t been doing the hard work until just recently. What was her story? Had she lied about everything?

He was so deep in thought he barely noticed the burning. When he registered it, he nearly flung her hand away as if it had bit him. Maybe it had.

Heat flared, starting in the center of his palm, going bone deep before boiling up his arm to his chest, then moving lower. Hot, mind-numbing, sexual heat—the kind that made a man behave like an ass, then not have the good sense to regret it in the morning.

He bit back a curse. He didn’t need this woman on his property, and he sure as hell didn’t need to want her in his bed.

His mind obligingly took that image and shifted it until he was lost in a mental tangle of bare arms and legs, burying his need inside her and his hands in her curly dark hair. According to his brain, a bed was not required.

Moving slowly, so she wouldn’t know what he was thinking, he released her hand, then shifted and leaned against the wall. The action did two things. First, it put some distance between them so he could work on developing a little self-control. Second, it allowed him to casually adjust his position, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles in an effort to draw her attention away from that part of him that had instantly and violently reacted to the unwelcome fantasy.

“Judging from your hands, you haven’t been working with horses,” he said, pleased his voice sounded completely in control. “What have you been doing?”

She shrugged, apparently unaware of the battle he fought for control. “A little of everything. I waitressed in Phoenix and found out I’m not much of a people person. I like them one at a time just fine, but the pressures of a lunch crowd are too much for me.” She clutched her duffel bag close to her midsection. “In Albuquerque I worked as a maid in a big hotel. Now I’m here.”

“Are you moving east?”

Her gaze darted away. “I don’t have any specific plans.”

But she
was
on the run. Had he really been hoping she was just some kid on a summer adventure? Life wasn’t that simple. This particular woman was in trouble, and despite his wayward hormones, Brady was going to do his best to stay clear of her.

There was, however, one thing he had to know. “Rita,” he said, his voice stern. He waited until she looked at him before continuing. “Are you on the run from the law?”

Her blue eyes widened and shock parted her mouth. Even before she spoke, he read his answer. Whatever her troubles, she hadn’t done anything illegal.

“Of course not,” she said. “I swear.”

Conversations like this were not part of her life plan, Randi thought glumly, wishing there was a way to convince the man in front of her she wasn’t a recently paroled felon. She wanted this job. More important, she needed it. Despite her proud words that she would get by, the truth was she was down to her last five dollars and getting pretty desperate.

“Okay,” Brady said. “I had to ask. I hope you understand.”

“No problem.”

“Come on. I’ll show you around.”

He led the way from the office at the back of the barn and through the stables. Randi followed behind. The familiar smell of horses and hay relaxed her. At least she would enjoy working here. She’d hated both waitressing and being a maid, although she’d kept the jobs until she’d felt the need to move on. After all, when one was on the run, one didn’t get a whole lot of choices, employment-wise.

“Report any problems with the horses to me immediately,” Brady was saying. “Even if it’s four in the morning and you don’t think I’m up. We’ve got a vet on call. I’d rather pay for an unnecessary visit than lose one of the animals.”

“I can do that.”

She glanced around at the large, clean barn. Judging from the little she’d seen, the ranch was successful. Maybe it was her imagination, but she had the sense that people had been happy here. At one time she would have laughed at herself and claimed she was being fanciful. In the past few weeks, she’d learned to listen to her senses. Being on her own had taught her to pay attention and trust herself. There was no one else she could depend on.

At the entrance to the barn, Brady paused. “The bunkhouse is over there,” he said, pointing to a long, low one-story building on his right.

Big windows looked out on the lawn and the large shade trees beyond.

Randi settled her duffel bag strap over her right shoulder. “It looks very nice.”

“Yeah.” Brady was lost in thought. “I have a cook. Tex. He prepares three meals a day. The dining room is in front. He rings a bell when the food’s ready. Don’t be late.”

She tried to ignore her growling stomach and the fact that she hadn’t eaten yet that day. “No problem.”

“Actually, there is.” Brady shook his head and turned to his left. Away from the bunkhouse.

She followed his gaze and saw a white two-story house. A wide porch wrapped around the first floor. Late summer roses bloomed by the back porch.

“Well, Rita, we have ourselves a situation.”

She smiled politely as she wondered if she would ever get used to her new name. At least she didn’t stare blankly when someone called her that. When she’d first run away from the wedding and those men with guns, her only thought had been to stay alive. Changing her name had made her feel safer. It was probably unnecessary, but it was too late now. Brady thought of her as Rita Howard and that’s who she was going to continue to be.

“There are over a dozen cowboys on the ranch,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Counting Tex and myself that’s nearly twenty men. Except for my dog, Princess, a few of the cats and some breeding stock, you’re the only female around.”

“Oh.” His words sank in. “Oh,” she repeated as heat climbed her cheeks.

“Yeah. Oh. So I’m going to give you a room up at the main house. I’m the only one who sleeps there, and I’m about as safe as they come.”

That wasn’t true, she thought, eyeing his broad shoulders and muscular thighs. She would bet he could be pretty dangerous when he chose to be. What he really meant was he wasn’t interested in her so she wouldn’t have to worry. It was no more than she expected. While children didn’t run in horror when they saw her walking down the street, no man had ever lost control because of her beauty, either.

“I appreciate the concern,” she said. “It won’t be a problem.”

“It better not be. I don’t want you making trouble with the men.”

Rita grinned. “Brady, don’t let that thought keep you up nights. I swear, if you catch me having my way with one of your cowboys, you won’t have to fire me. I’ll quit. As tempting as all that testosterone sounds, I’m going to do my best to resist.”