Читать книгу To Tempt a Wilde - Kimberly Kaye Terry - Страница 10

Nathan Wilde wanted nothing more than to put his feet up, pop open a can of beer and relax, exhausted and sweaty from moving cattle to the spring pasture for the better part of the day with his brothers.

“No beer for you, but I’m sure oats and water will work just the same, right, girl? ” he asked, affectionately patting the rear end of the horse he’d just dismounted.

After walking, watering and patting down Gerry, his favorite workhorse, Nate strapped the canvas feeding bag over her neck and led her to the stables.

Running a weary hand over the back of his neck, he rolled his shoulders forward, trying to work out the knots settled deep. As soon as their workday ended, his brothers had decided to go into town to their favorite sports bar to unwind, inviting Nate to go with them.

According to them, a woman was all a man needed to work out his “knots.” Although they’d issued the invitation, they’d done so more out of habit rather than any real belief that Nate would actually accept. They, like Nate, knew what his automatic response would be; not only no, but hell, no.

A woman was the last thing he wanted to work out his knots. He could do without the hassle of what came after a woman worked out his knots.

Nate led the horse toward the stable, thinking of his brothers’ invitation. There was a time when all three of them had been called the Wilde boys for a reason, besides it being their last name. They worked hard and played just as hard, and any woman knew when dealing with the men that that was all it was—play. It had been that way for Nate until two years ago…

He shook his head. A lot had changed since then.

When he’d gone too long without a woman and his need was rising high—that was the only time he ventured into town and went on the hunt. Those times he made sure the woman he chose knew the score from jump.

He was looking for a one-time thing. Just a hard, hot ride to release his pent-up energy. And nothing more. No expectations or demands on either side.

As he was pushing open the double-sided stable door to lead Gerry inside, he paused with one foot inside the barn. The low hum of a woman’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks and pulled him out of his mental musings.

With a frown on his face, Nate cautiously moved forward, Gerry docilely trailing behind him.

“Yes, baby, you are a beauty aren’t you?” the unknown woman crooned, her voice low, soothing.

Frown still in place, Nate led the horse to her stall and opened the gate, ushering her inside. He gave her one more absentminded pat on the rear before locking the gate and moving toward the voice.

The woman’s soft voice echoed in the quiet stable, tugging at Nate, and his feet moved as though of their own volition, drawing him closer to the source. When he came to the open stalled area he stopped, his eyes narrowing.

Standing before the Arabian palomino he’d recently purchased was a woman, the top of her head barely reaching the horse at mane level.

Her face was turned slightly away from him as she ran a small hand over the horse’s neck, down her side. As she whispered soothing words, the horse’s willingness to allow her to touch him fascinated Nate.

He’d recently purchased the horse from a rancher who’d put up his livestock for sale after selling his spread to a major conglomeration for a hefty fee. Although he’d owned mostly cattle, he’d also sold several horses. However, the palomino remained.

The old rancher had rescued it from a shelter that recovered abused horses and sought to rehabilitate them. Eventually the man had given up trying to tame the beast, unable to get anywhere near the animal besides to feed him.

Nate had gone to the ranch for the sole purpose of purchasing the Braunvieh bulls, paying a hefty price for several of the bulls to breed with their Angus. Yet when the rancher had shown him the stables and the last remaining horse for sale, he’d bought the horse, too.

It was beautiful and wild.

Beyond the fear, there was a keen intelligence in the horse’s watchful gaze, and Nate knew he had to buy it, convinced he could get to the animal, earn its trust. Nate had been sure that with the right touch, the beautiful horse would eventually come around.

In the week since the horse had been delivered, Nate hadn’t been able to get within two feet of the damn thing without it neighing, kicking its feet up and pitching a damn fit.

Last time he’d tried, he’d come in serious danger of losing his ability to father children…

And now, to witness this small, unknown woman uttering soothing nonsense at the horse, and it not only allowing, but encouraging her, nuzzling against her hand, was nothing short of amazing to Nate.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and watched the interaction between the semiwild horse and the woman, listening as she spoke, a deep frown pulling his brows together.

Althea hadn’t been so…at ease, in a long time.

She inhaled a deep breath, a smile tilting one corner of her mouth up slightly. Even the air smelled better. Cleaner, new. Alive.

That was it. That’s what was different.

She hadn’t felt so alive as she did here at Wyoming Wilde. Hadn’t felt so protected as she did now in longer than she wanted to remember.

Although the ranch was accessible, no one set foot on the property who wasn’t invited. And no one came without at least ten men knowing of their arrival.

Continuing to smooth her hands over the beautiful horse’s mane, she thought of her short time at Wyoming Wilde Ranch.

The morning she’d awakened from the night when she’d felt someone watching her, she’d known it was time for her to move on.

Not that she’d gotten any sleep after she’d turned off the light.

Instead she’d alternated between staring up at the ceiling, watching the blades on the old ceiling fan swirl round and round, the loud hum fading into the background, and fingering the business card she held clutched in her hand.

Finally she’d given up on sleep, just as the early-morning sunrise was peeking through the cracked blinds. She’d risen and brewed a cup of coffee before sitting down at the beat-up kitchen table. Thoughtfully, she’d sipped the strong brew while contemplating what her next move would be.

Glancing down at the card she’d laid on the table, Althea had made up her mind. Wyoming Wilde…she was going to the ranch. Why not? She’d gone on flimsier leads than that in her two years of moving from place to place.

She’d packed her scanty belongings before going by the diner to inform her boss that she was quitting.

That had been the hardest part of her decision.

The harried cook/owner had begged Althea to stay longer, at least for a few more nights, so he could find another waitress to help them out. Business was booming, as many ranchers and farmers from the surrounding areas were moving cattle and purchasing new stock, which meant traveling and stopping by the café.

Althea had been close to agreeing, mainly because the owner had been good to her, paying her weekly wages in cash versus a check without deeply questioning her reasons. That and the desire to get another few more days of tips had made her debate her decision to leave that day.

Piggybacking that thought, Althea had again gotten that eerie feeling of being watched.

She’d glanced nervously around the busy café, surveying the late-morning crowd. She’d seen no signs of anyone paying her any particular attention, yet remembering the previous night’s unease had been enough to strengthen her resolve to go.

When he’d realized Althea wasn’t going to waver, he’d asked her where she was headed, a concerned look crossing his deeply lined face. Althea had plastered a wide smile on her face, hoping the strain of what she really felt wasn’t showing, and told him she was headed east, that a friend had opened up a new restaurant and she had agreed to help.

The lie tripped smoothly from her lips, and she squelched down the guilt she felt. Mason was one of the few people she’d worked for who she’d actually begun to get close to.

Although she hadn’t dared share her history with him, or even tell him her full name, after the diner closed she and the older man had fallen into an easy, unexpected camaraderie.

He’d given her a look, one that had spoken volumes, and she’d squirmed a bit beneath his scrutinizing stare, but he hadn’t asked any more questions and had walked to the back to retrieve her pay, handing it to her and giving her an awkward hug goodbye.

It wasn’t until she was in her car that she opened the envelope, a small smile of gratitude crossing her full lips. Besides her wages, Mason had added several more crisp one-hundred-dollar bills, along with a note telling her to be safe.

Althea stifled the tears that threatened to fall.

She’d then gassed up at the Gas ’n Go next to the diner, bought a few necessities and hopped inside her car, preparing to leave.

That eerie feeling had crept over her again. She’d glanced into her rearview mirror, a shiver running over her spine, her heartbeat speeding up and thumping hard against her chest when she caught site of a dark green Mercedes coupe pulling into the diner as she left the gas station. The same make and color as the car he drove.

Keeping the car in sight as it came to a smooth halt, she’d watched a woman come from within, her high heels sinking into the unpaved parking lot as she walked inside the diner. Even though it wasn’t him, Althea’s instincts told her that he wasn’t far away.

He never was.

Without hesitating, she’d peeled out of the gravel parking lot and quickly headed east on I-90, once again on the move.

Now, as Althea heard the deep voice speak behind her, she spun around, her heart racing. She automatically stepped back several steps, warily glancing around looking for the can of mace she always carried and had placed near her feet when she’d entered the horse’s stall.

She eased her body down as subtly as possible and grabbed the can, palming it within her hand.

The man’s head swiveled, looked down at her hand before looking back at her. Although his eyes were shadowed beneath the Stetson he wore low on his head, leaving only a pair of well-defined, sensual lips visible, she felt his stare. She swallowed nervously.

She stood and glanced up, way up, as he pushed away from the wall and ambled toward her.

“What the hell are you doing with my horse…and who the hell let you in here?”

The question was spoken in a low, deep rumble. Yet the smooth tone did nothing to disguise the distinct…menacing undertone.

Althea’s heart leaped wildly against her chest as she stepped back, stopping only when her back brushed against the end of the stall.

Caught, unable to move away any farther, her tongue came out to moisten her bottom lip.

Waiting for the fear to come, Althea wondered why instead she felt a feminine rush of awareness sliver along her spine as he advanced into the stall.