Читать книгу The Rancher's One-Week Wife - Kathie DeNosky - Страница 10

Two

Blake glanced over at his backpack, the thermal food carrier and the jug of iced tea on the truck seat beside him as he drove away from the main ranch house. His house.

He had never lied to Karly, not eight months ago and not today.

But he hadn’t been completely honest with her, either.

When they met in Las Vegas, he’d told her that besides competing in rodeo, he was the boss at the Wolf Creek Ranch in Wyoming. She had assumed that meant he was the foreman and he hadn’t bothered to set her straight. For one thing, they’d been so hot for each other, they hadn’t talked at length about their jobs or much of anything else. And for another, he didn’t go around flaunting the fact that he owned the Wolf Creek or that he was a multimillionaire.

He had firsthand knowledge of how the lure of money could influence people and he intended to avoid that kind of shallowness at all costs. He didn’t want the money to affect his relationships, and he’d been especially careful about what he’d shared with the woman he’d married so quickly. In the past, both he and his father had seen the ugly side of women hell-bent on getting their hands on a hefty bankroll and once had been enough to leave Blake more than a little cautious.

But he was fairly certain Karly had no knowledge about the size of his bank account. She had fallen for him—without the influence of his money. He had figured that when she joined him at the ranch it would be a nice surprise to let her know that they would never have financial worries like a lot of other couples starting out. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the chance to tell her the truth because she’d decided that living in a big city without him was preferable to living on the ranch with him. She’d made that decision without the influence of his money, too.

In hindsight, he wished he’d told her right after they got married in Vegas. He didn’t want her thinking that he had been trying to hide his assets because of their pending divorce. That wasn’t the case at all. And he had every intention of telling her the truth, as well as providing her with a nice settlement for the very brief time they’d been married. He just needed to figure out the right time and way to go about doing that.

He could have told her about his wealth when she called from Seattle to tell him she thought they’d made a mistake and that ending the marriage would be for the best. But he’d decided against that because she might have assumed it was a desperate attempt on his part to get her to reconsider their divorce, to give them a chance. Him begging for a second chance was something that would never happen. Even if his pride had allowed it, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. She’d had her mind made up and nothing he could have said would have changed it.

So he’d kept his secret and signed the papers. But he could have told her the truth today, too, when she’d mistakenly assumed the foreman’s cottage was his house and that the main house and ranch belonged to someone else. But he’d held back without really knowing why.

All he knew was that his ego had taken enough of a hit eight months ago, when he’d learned that while she might have been the woman of his dreams, he obviously hadn’t been the man of hers. And if he was perfectly honest with himself, there had probably been a little fear holding him back, as well. He hadn’t wanted to tell her he was rich and end up finding out that he’d been wrong about her—that Karly could be swayed by the temptation of his money.

As he steered his truck up the lane leading to the foreman’s cottage, he reached up to rub the tension building at the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how something that had originally felt so right had gone so wrong. When he’d married Karly after only knowing her a week, the decision had seemed as natural as taking his next breath. Their whirlwind wedding carried on the Hartwell family tradition. Blake’s Grandma and Grandpa Hartwell had been married three days after meeting and his father and mother tied the knot two weeks after their first date. Both couples had successful marriages until death separated them and Blake had been sure it would be that way with himself and Karly. It was obvious now that he had been wrong.

Parking his truck beside the little red sports car, Blake took a deep breath and reached for his backpack, the thermal carrier full of food and the gallon thermos of iced tea he’d had his cook pack for their supper. There was no sense in trying to figure out how he could have misjudged Karly’s commitment to their relationship. He had and there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Besides, he’d never been one to dwell on his mistakes.

As he walked toward the cottage, she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. His breath caught and his heart thumped against his ribs. He felt the same pull that had drawn him to her the first time he’d laid eyes on her in Vegas. He forced himself to ignore the feeling. She might be the most exciting woman he’d ever known, but the sting of her rejection and her disdain for his lifestyle told him in no uncertain terms just how unimportant he was to her. She’d walked away from him once. He wouldn’t give her another chance to do it again.

Distracted by his turbulent thoughts, it took him a moment to notice the frown on her pretty face. “Is something wrong?” he asked as he climbed the steps.

“Where do you keep your food?” she answered his question with one of her own as they entered the house. “I was going to make something for dinner, but the refrigerator and pantry are both empty. If you live here why isn’t there anything in the house to eat?”

“I usually eat down at the bunkhouse with the single men or over at the main house,” he said truthfully as he set the cooler and jug of iced tea on the kitchen island, then turned to hang his hat on a peg by the door. He did eat with his men at the bunkhouse occasionally, just not as often as he ate what his cook made for him in the main house.

She looked doubtful. “Even in the winter when you’re snowed in?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her erroneous assumption. “Sweetheart, there’s no such thing as getting snowed in around here. A ranch is a twenty-four-hours, seven-days-a-week operation. It never shuts down because the livestock are depending on us to take care of them. If it rains we get wet. If it snows we wade through it no matter how deep it gets or how cold it is.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Looking a little sheepish, she shook her head. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know anything about ranching.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He motioned toward the thermal carrier. “And don’t worry about cooking. I had the cook over at the main house pack up what he made for supper. Why don’t you set the table while I go wash up?”

He didn’t mention that he’d had to endure an interrogation and a stern lecture before old Silas finished loading the carrier with containers of food. A retired cowboy turned cook after his arthritis prevented him from doing ranch work, Silas Burrows had some definite ideas on how Blake should conduct his life and he didn’t mind sharing them every chance he got. Having a wife show up unexpectedly, one that Blake hadn’t told Silas about, definitely got the old boy started. As sure as the grass was green, Blake knew he hadn’t heard the end of what Silas had to say on the matter, either.

“I’ll have dinner on the table by the time you return,” she said as she started removing the food from the carrier to set it on the butcher-block island.

Blake watched her for a moment before he gritted his teeth and left the room. Karly had changed into a pair of khaki camp shorts and an oversize T-shirt while he was gone. She shouldn’t have looked the least bit appealing. But he’d be damned if just seeing her in the baggy shorts, shapeless shirt and bright pink flip-flops didn’t have him feeling as restless as a range-raised colt.

Disgusted with himself, he marched up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. How could he want a woman who had rejected him? Who had rejected his way of life and the land he loved?

Setting his backpack on the cedar chest at the end of the bed, he walked into the adjoining bathroom to wash up. As he splashed cold water on his face to clear his head, he couldn’t help but think about the irony of the situation.

When Karly called him a few days after they parted in Vegas to tell him that she had changed her mind about being his wife, she hadn’t even been willing to discuss coming to Wyoming in order to see if they could save their brief marriage. Yet almost nine months later, here she was—in the very place she said she never wanted to see—with papers to end the union.

But as he dried his face and hands with one of the fluffy towels from the linen cabinet, he couldn’t help but think there had to have been something that happened when she got back to Seattle that had caused her change of heart. But what could it have been? Was there someone else she hadn’t told him about? Maybe an old flame or someone she had been seeing before they met?

He’d asked himself the same questions a hundred times—and just as often told himself to forget about solving the mystery. He had no way of knowing what went through her head. And no reason to ask once she’d been determined to end things between them.

But now that Karly was here, he had a golden opportunity that was just too damn good to pass up. All he had to do was convince her to stay at the ranch a few days, until the strike in Denver was settled. That would give him time to ask her what had happened, to find out what had changed her mind and why.

It might not be the smartest thing he’d ever wanted to do. And he knew that whatever he found out wouldn’t change the state of their marriage; he’d already signed the papers and let her go. Hell, he’d probably be better off not knowing. And he certainly wasn’t expecting anything about him or his ranch to change her mind, even if he did learn the answer.

But some perverse part of him felt that it was his right to know why she’d refused to even try to make a go of things with him.

With his mind made up, Blake went back downstairs to the kitchen to help Karly set the table. “I’ve been thinking. It doesn’t make any sense for you to spend money on a motel room when you can stay here for free,” he pointed out as he got two glasses down from one of the cabinets.

“I can’t do that,” she said, looking at him like he had sprouted another head.

“Why not?” he asked, pouring them each a glass of iced tea from the thermal jug.

“I don’t want to impose,” she said, placing a container of country-fried steaks on the table.

“How would you staying here be an imposition?” He carried the glasses to the table, then held her chair for her to sit down. “We’re still married and the last time I heard, a husband and wife staying in the same house isn’t all that unusual,” he added, laughing.

“We’re not going to be married that much longer,” she insisted. “We’re practically divorced already.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged as he seated himself at the head of the table and reached for the container of steaks. “You’re still my wife and that gives you the right to stay here.”

“We really don’t know each other,” she said, taking a bite of a seasoned potato wedge.

“That didn’t seem to be a deal breaker when you said ‘I do,’” he pointed out, before he could stop himself. He felt like a prize ass when he saw the wounded expression on her pretty face.

She stared at him for several long moments before she shook her head. “I think it would be best if I get that motel room tomorrow as planned.”

“Look, I’m sorry about what I just said.” He took a deep breath. “That was out of line.”

She stared at him for a moment longer before she shook her head again. “Not entirely. We were both—” she paused, as if searching for the right words “—caught up in the moment in Las Vegas. And I don’t think one of us was more at fault than the other.”

Maybe she had been caught up in the moment, but he had known exactly what he was doing and the commitment he was making when he vowed to take care of her for the rest of their lives. But arguing that point wasn’t going to accomplish what he had set out to do.

“That’s all water under the bridge now,” he said, shrugging. “But if you stay here, I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable than in a motel room. And you won’t have to drive the mountain roads more than once to get back to the airport.”

She gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you being so persistent about this, Blake?”

“I figure it will save you a few hundred bucks or so,” he said, thinking quickly. She obviously had to watch her finances. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned that by filing the divorce herself instead of having a lawyer do it for her she was saving money. But he wasn’t going to point out that he knew she was on a tight budget. She had her pride, the same as he did, and bringing up the state of her financial situation would probably send her back down the mountain as fast as that little red car could take her. “Besides, staying here beats sitting in a motel room for several days with nothing to do but stare at the four walls.”

He almost groaned aloud when she nibbled on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said. She wasn’t trying to be seductive, but it seemed like everything about her had his libido working overtime. Maybe it was due to the memories of making love to her that haunted his dreams at night. Or, more likely, it was the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman since they’d parted ways in Las Vegas. Whatever the reason behind his overactive hormones, he had every intention of ignoring them.

“I suppose not having anything to do would be pretty boring,” she finally conceded. “But I wouldn’t have anything to do here, either.”

“Sure you would,” he said, careful not to sound too eager. “There’s never a lack of things to do around a ranch. You could help me feed the horses and a couple of orphaned calves. And tomorrow afternoon, you can ride up to the summer pasture with me to check on a herd of steers we’ll be moving back down here in a couple of weeks.”

“You mean ride a horse?” When he nodded, she vigorously shook her head. “That’s not an option.”

“Why?”

“Other than a pony ride at the grand opening of a grocery store when I was five, I’ve never been on a horse,” she said, taking a sip of her iced tea.

That explained her skittish reaction to Boomer when she’d first arrived. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got the perfect horse for you and it won’t take any time to teach you how to ride her.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she commented, reaching for a roll. “Horses don’t like me.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked. “You just admitted that you’ve never really been around horses. How would you know if they like you or not?”

She frowned. “Your horse snorted and stomped his foot at me this afternoon. If that wasn’t an indication he didn’t like me, I don’t know what is.”

“Hoof,” he countered, correcting her. “Horses have hooves and he was just shooing away a fly when he moved his leg.” Blake took a bite of his steak. “And for the record, Boomer didn’t snort. Gently blowing through his nose like that is a horse’s way of sighing. It signals that he’s relaxed, curious or in some cases just saying hello. Boomer was just being friendly.”

“His name doesn’t exactly instill a lot of confidence,” she said, shaking her head. “Boomer sounds rather...explosive.”

Blake laughed out loud at her inaccurate assumption that the gentle gelding’s name reflected his temperament. “Boomer is short for Boomerang and the reason he got that name is because he likes people so much he can’t stay away from them. I can turn him out into a pasture with other horses and before I know it, he turns around and comes right back to me.”

“That’s great, but it doesn’t mean he likes me,” she said, looking doubtful.

Blake grinned. “I’ll introduce you tomorrow morning when we go out to the barn to take care of the calves. You’ll see. He’s as gentle as a lapdog.”

She looked skeptical, but didn’t comment until they had finished their meal. “I can help you feed the babies, but I’m afraid riding a horse tomorrow is out of the question. I didn’t expect to be away from home more than a couple of nights and I really don’t have anything to wear that would be suitable for a horseback ride.”

He smiled at the relief he heard in her soft voice. He’d bet every dime he had that she’d spent the entire meal trying to think of a way to get out of riding.

“We’ll remedy that tomorrow morning after I get the feeding done,” he said, smiling as he helped her clear the table. “We’ll make a trip down to Eagle Fork’s Western store and get everything you need.”

“That sounds like a lot of time and trouble for a pair of jeans,” she said as she put containers of leftovers into the refrigerator. “And besides, I don’t want to interfere with the work you need to get done.”

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” Blake said, barely able to keep from laughing at her attempts to escape his plans. He was not only determined to find out what she wasn’t telling him, he was also going to give her a ranch experience she’d never forget. “I need to get a new shirt for a Labor Day barbecue on Monday anyway and you’ll need something to wear to that as well. In fact, it would probably be a good idea to get you enough clothes for a few days since there’s no telling how long the strike will last.”

“I can’t crash your friend’s party,” she said as she turned to wipe off the kitchen island.

“You won’t be crashing the party.” Blake wasn’t about to take no for an answer. “You’ll go as my date.”

“That would be rather awkward,” she insisted.

“Only if you make it that way,” he said, even though he knew she was right.

“How on earth would you even introduce me?” She gave him a pointed look. “We may be married right now, but we’re little more than strangers on the way to a divorce. We wouldn’t even be married if the papers had arrived as they should have. I’d just as soon avoid a lot of questions about our hasty marriage and the upcoming divorce.”

“Easy. I’ll just tell them that we met in Vegas and you came for a visit,” Blake explained.

She stared at him before she frowned. “Do you really think it will take that long for the strike to be settled?”

He shrugged. “It’s a holiday weekend. There’s really no telling. Even if they come to an agreement over the weekend it’s going to take at least a day or two for the airlines to get all of the schedules lined up and the passengers from the canceled flights who haven’t found other means of transportation on their way again. And with Labor Day on Monday that’s going to delay things even more.”

“I suppose I could drive from here to Lincoln County,” Karly said, looking thoughtful.

“I know you want to get this divorce over with, but do you really want to drive fifteen or sixteen hours in holiday traffic?” he asked. “You couldn’t possibly get there tomorrow before the courthouse closes and it won’t reopen again until Tuesday. By that time the strike might be settled and you’d be able to fly.”

She didn’t look happy about what he was saying, but she finally nodded. “You’re probably right.”

“I know I am.” When she yawned, he pointed toward the hall. “I can finish cleaning the kitchen. Why don’t you go ahead and turn in for the night? Mornings around here start early.”

“How early are we talking about?” she asked, hiding another yawn with her delicate hand.

“I’ll start feeding the livestock in the barns around dawn,” he said as he loaded the dishwasher. “That will take about an hour. Since you don’t really have suitable clothes for that yet, I’ll wake you up after I get finished.”

She looked horrified. “Good Lord, are the animals even awake at that time of day?”

“They’re not only awake, they’re usually making a lot of noise because they know it’s time for breakfast,” he said, laughing.

When she yawned again, she started toward the hall. “In that case, I think I’ll follow your advice and go to bed.” She stopped at the door and turned back. “Thank you, Blake.”

“What for?” he asked, walking over to her.

“For giving me a place to stay until the strike is settled and for being so nice about all of this,” she said quietly. “You really didn’t have to be, considering how badly I handled filing for the divorce.”

He barely resisted the urge to reach for her. As he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans to keep himself from doing something stupid like taking her in his arms and kissing her until they both gasped for air, he shook his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had no control over what happened after you put the papers in the mail. And like I told you earlier, I’m old-fashioned. As long as we’re married it’s my job to provide you with a roof over your head and something to eat.”

She stared at him for several long moments before she finally nodded. “Well, thank you anyway. Good night.”

“Yeah, see you in the morning,” he mumbled as he watched her walk down the hall to the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, he waited until he heard her close the door to her bedroom before he started the dishwasher and turned out the kitchen light. As he slowly climbed the stairs to his own guest room, he couldn’t help but wonder how everything had become so damn complicated. Eight months ago, things had been simple. He’d found the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with and she’d told him that he was the man she wanted to share hers with, too.

He had no idea what had changed from the time they left Vegas until she called him a few days later from Seattle to tell him she wasn’t joining him at the ranch as planned. But one thing was sure—before she left this ranch to file for divorce and return to her life in the city, he had every intention of getting an explanation and settling the matter once and for all.