Читать книгу Lonesome Ryder - Carol Finch - Страница 11

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.