The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 1 (7 page)

Ralph mumbled a reply.

“Ziggy and Quinn, that fence is going up faster than I’d expected.”

“Some of the main posts aren’t rotted, so we’re reusing them,” Quinn said.

Brady’s style of management was very hands-on. About the second or third night, Randi had noticed he made it a point to find something to praise about each employee nearly every day. No wonder even the drifters stayed.

“Rita.”

She looked up when he said her assumed name. An unexpected attack of nerves made her fork slip out of her fingers and bang against her plate. She picked it up and cleared her throat. “Yes?”

He continued to smile as if nothing was wrong. “I’d like to see you in my office after dinner.”

“Um, sure.”

“You rode Casper today?”

“Yes. There’s no hint of the injury. You can put him back to work tomorrow.”

“Great. You’ve been patient with him. I appreciate that.”

“No problem.”

She forced herself to cut off a piece of pork, but instead of eating it, she chased it around her plate. When Ziggy handed her the bowl of biscuits, she passed them on without taking one.

He wanted to see her in his office. She knew what that meant. After only a week, she was out on her butt—just like that.

She couldn’t remember making a mistake. Damn. The irony was, she had barely gotten used to being here and now she was going to be asked to move on. Just when she’d realized she would very much like to stay for a while.

* * *

The motel’s window air conditioner fought a losing battle against the early evening heat, but for 19.95 a night, neither occupant expected luxury.

“Yes,” the bald man said into the phone. “I understand, but without any clue as to where to look for her—”

The caller cut him off with a sharp word. The bald man frowned his impatience, but didn’t say anything aloud. He was too fond of his job…and his life…to complain.

His companion, a dark-haired man wearing a White Sox baseball cap, tossed a full pack of cigarettes into the air and caught it. He repeated the action, not paying attention to the phone conversation. There was no point in worrying. They would get their instructions and they would follow them. End of story.

“I understand your concern,” the bald man said. “It’s also mine. But it’s been two months and the trail is cold. If my associate and I had been tracking her from the beginning, she would already be taken care of.”

“Take care of her now,” the caller said. “I can’t stress the importance enough.”

The bald man nodded. He knew what that meant. Find Randi Howell or else. “Is someone watching the police station?” he asked. “She could be caught on her way in or out.”

The caller’s voice sharpened with annoyance. “If she speaks to the police, there’s no point in worrying about her. Understand? Another murder would make everyone suspicious and we don’t want to take that chance unless we have to. Now, I just want to know where she is and what she’s doing. Then we can decide the best way to make sure she doesn’t talk.”

“She hasn’t called the police with the information?”

“Not yet. It’s been so long now, she may think they wouldn’t believe her. The broad’s been on the run for a while. She’s alone and scared and probably doubting what she saw. She’ll get careless about her whereabouts. You be there to take advantage of that.”

The caller hung up without saying goodbye.

The man in the baseball cap looked at his associate and raised his eyebrows.

“Bad,” the bald man said. “We have to find her before she talks to the cops. It’s important.”

They stared at each other and ignored the fear. Important. As in they would pay with their lives if they failed.

“We found the trucker who dropped her off in Phoenix,” the bald man continued. “We’ve checked west and north. It’s time to go east. We’ll check the small towns. A newcomer looking for work should be easy to remember. She’s gotta work. She couldn’t have had much cash on her, and she hasn’t used her bank card to get any.”

The second man tossed the cigarette pack in the air again, caught it and grinned. “I know where she is,” he said.

“Where?”

“It’s in her file. You said she needs a job. She only worked in one place while she was in school. According to the information, she loved it. A stable. We should start checking ranches.”

The bald man nodded. “Good idea.” He picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. When it was answered, he said, “Yes, it’s me. We have an idea about where she might be.” He explained about the ranches. “I think it might work, too. Also, she may try to contact someone, using a rodeo or horse show for a cover. We’d like you to let us know if anyone in Grand Springs leaves to attend either.”

He listened for a minute, then hung up. “They like it,” he told his associate. “They’re pleased.”

Good news for both of them. Now all that was left was to get the girl.

* * *

Brady straightened the papers on his desk. They didn’t need straightening, but he ignored that fact, just the way he ignored the faint tension in his gut that told him he was nervous. Hell of a state for a man to find himself in.

She’s just an employee, he reminded himself. If he treated her like everyone else, he would be fine.

Yeah, right, he thought grimly. Who was he trying to kid with that line? He couldn’t think about her like everyone else, because he couldn’t stop thinking about her at all. He could easily dismiss the cowboys from his mind, but Rita got under his skin.

A brief knock caused him to look up. She stood in the doorway.

“Come in,” he called, feeling like an adolescent with his first crush for being so pleased to see her.

She brushed her palms against her jeans-clad thighs, then did as he requested.

In the evening she usually let her hair loose of its braid and simply tied the riot of curls back at the base of her neck. Lamplight made them gleam as a few wayward strands danced around her neck. Her pale, much-washed T-shirt emphasized her strong arms and well-formed breasts.

He told himself to look away. Her feminine attributes were none of his business. She was his employee, nothing more. But as she walked toward him, her hips swaying with each step, he found himself wanting her. As he swallowed against rising desire, he wished he were the kind of man who could simply scratch the itch with whomever was handy. A night in town could take care of his need.

But he wasn’t that kind of man. He needed to trust and care before he participated in an intimate relationship. It was a flaw in his character, at least his rodeo buddies had told him so when he’d refused countless invitations by attractive and willing buckle bunnies.

As he wasn’t going to get involved with Rita, who was both an employee and a woman with a past, he had no choice but to live with the itch. In time it would go away. It always did.

She gave him a tentative smile. He returned it and motioned to the chair across from his desk. Days in the sun had given her skin a honey-colored glow and brought out a few freckles on her nose. She was bright-eyed and young. Too young for him. There were nine years between them. While he wrestled with his lustful thoughts, she probably saw him as an old man. Someone to be respected, like an older brother or an uncle.

Hell, she would be disgusted if she knew how he’d imagined them together, bare and touching, bodies—With a supreme effort of will, he forced his mind to the matter at hand. Rita and her job performance. Was it hot in here or was it just him? He tugged at the collar of his shortsleeved shirt and cleared his throat.

“You’ve been here a week,” he began, only to notice that she fidgeted in her seat. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, she clenched and relaxed her fingers, her gaze wouldn’t meet his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She pressed her lips together, then blurted out, “You’re going to fire me and I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong. I’ve followed the rules. All of them. The horses are in good shape, I’m up early, I work hard.” She straightened her spine and stared at him. “I’m quiet in the house, I haven’t made trouble with the men. I even clean the bathroom every afternoon after I shower. I just can’t think of a single thing I’m doing that you wouldn’t like.”

The vulnerability in her eyes called to him. Before he could stop himself, he half rose out of his chair. Don’t even think about it, he warned himself as he slowly resumed his seat.

“I’m not going to fire you,” he said. “We agreed to a one-week trial, Rita. The week is up. I want to talk to you about your job. You do great work and I’d like you to stay on. I asked you here so we could talk about that. Nothing more.”

Her mouth opened. Color flooded her face, then faded. “Really?” Her voice squeaked. “I thought—” She shook her head. “I guess I overreacted, huh?”

“Just a little. But under the circumstances, it’s understandable. Now I know why you turned down dessert. When we’re done here, why don’t you go explain it to Tex. I’m sure he’s got some peach cobbler left over. He’ll be wondering why you didn’t have your normal two or three servings. We can’t afford to have our cook sulking, now, can we?”

She laughed. “I promise I’ll go speak to him.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on his desk. “I like my job, Brady. I’m enjoying the ranch. If you want to keep me around, I’d like to stay.”

Pleasure heated his belly. He ignored the sensation, just as he ignored the impulse to lean forward as well and capture her hands in his. “Great. I’m going to raise your salary thirty dollars a week. Can you give me any kind of time commitment as to how long you’ll be staying?”

He always asked that question of new employees, but this time his interest in her reply was personal. Shadows moved across her face. She withdrew her hands to her lap and shook her head.

“Not really. A couple of months. Maybe.”

“I see. Well, we’re happy to have you here as long as you want to stay.”

The disappointment was sharper than the pleasure had been. He’d wanted more. Trust, maybe? It was too soon to expect that. She might never trust him. Could be life had taught her it was too dangerous. After all, he’d had his own lessons. He’d learned it was safer not to give away his heart.

“If anything changes and I find I can stay, I’ll let you know,” she said. “But I can’t promise more. Not without knowing if I can keep my word. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“I understand.”

There was an awkward pause as the room filled with unasked questions. Questions about her past and his, about a future that was never going to be.

“That’s all I had to say,” he said, dismissing her. “Your raise will be in your next paycheck.”

“Thanks.” She rose to her feet and gave him a quick smile, then moved to the door.

He watched her go, telling himself the emptiness inside had nothing to do with her, or with feeling lonely. He wished it could have been different. He wished he could have fallen in love with someone who wanted what he wanted. But he hadn’t. Instead he’d learned a hard lesson.

Love was a rare and elusive gift. Once given, there was no guarantee it was going to be enough to make the relationship work. He had the scarred heart to prove it.

Chapter Five

Randi leaned against the window frame and inhaled the soft smells of the night. It was getting late, and she should think about going to bed. After all, 4:00 a.m. came pretty early. But she couldn’t seem to settle down. Her body was pleasantly exhausted from a hard day’s work, but her mind was restless.

Thoughts flitted around like butterflies in a meadow. She was pleased that Brady wanted her to stay, proud that he thought she was doing a good job. She wondered about Grand Springs, then questioned what it meant that she no longer thought of that place as home. She missed Noah, if not her mother. She tried to imagine her future and couldn’t picture herself in any one place. Or with any one man.

She stared through the trees. Brady had wanted to talk about her past. She’d read it in his eyes. He had questions and she couldn’t blame him. What must it be like to hire someone with no references, no experience? Why had he given her a chance?

It would be so easy to confess everything to him, to tell him about the wedding and her near escape, to explain about those two men with guns. She sighed, knowing he would despise her for the former and disbelieve the latter. She couldn’t even make it sound better by saying she ran
because
of the men with guns. The truth was she’d been on her way out when she’d seen them. As much as she would like it to be otherwise, they had nothing to do with why she’d left Hal at the altar. So she wasn’t going to let on even a single whisper about her past.

If the last week had taught her only one thing it was that Brady Jones was an honorable man. Her first assessment of him had been right on the mark. If this was a 1950s western, his part would be played by John Wayne. Brady was an all-American hero. She was just a woman who’d run out on her own wedding and didn’t know what to do with her life. She thought he was wonderful; he probably didn’t think about her at all. They had nothing in common.

He spent his life helping out strays and others in need—she waited to be rescued, first by her father, then by Noah. Sure, this time she’d decided to take care of the problem herself. She might be making progress and growing up, but it wasn’t enough for a man like Brady.

A cool breeze blew into the bedroom, calling her, tempting her. Finally she gave in. As there was no way she was going to sleep for the next couple of hours, she might as well enjoy the night.

After slipping off her boots and socks so she could walk quietly and not wake Brady, she tiptoed down the hall and the stairs before crossing the hardwood floor and moving to the front door. She pulled it open slowly, wincing at a faint creak. She stepped onto the porch and pulled it shut behind her.

“Great night.”

The unexpected voice made her jump. She peered toward the sound and saw Brady sitting on the front steps.

“I, ah—” She didn’t know what to say. Obviously she hadn’t been the only one tempted by the night. “Sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.” She turned to go back inside.