Читать книгу Bachelor Cowboy - Patricia Knoll, Patricia Knoll - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

“I HAVE to tell you, lady, this is a day for firsts. My first female scientist giving me my first lessons on how to run my place and the first time I’ve ever had a beautiful woman faint at my feet. If you welcome everyone to Tarrant County this way, it’s a wonder there’s been any growth in the population here at all.”

Shannon could barely hear Luke’s voice. It seemed to be coming from miles away. She knew she should have been able to hear him more clearly. After all, her head was against his chest as he carried her with one arm under her knees, the other across her back. She was not a small woman, but he had picked her up as if she weighed no more than a feather pillow.

Her head lolled, seeming to have found its own special resting place between his jaw and his collarbone. As tough as this man was, it should have felt like having her head caught in a vise. Instead, it felt snug, warm and welcoming. For a crazy instant, she fantasized that it was a spot fashioned especially for her. She knew the idea was outlandish and that as soon as she felt better, her sanity would return, but right now, she didn’t mind indulging in the fantasy—and in the comfort he offered.

Giddily, she decided that the best thing about being carried by him was the way he smelled, spicy, faintly sweaty yet all male. Not that she should even be noticing such things, what with her head still spinning, but somehow it soothed her. Her stomach had settled a bit, but she would be grateful to get out of the sun.

Seeming to read her mind, Luke carried her to someplace cool and dark. Shannon opened her eyes to see that he had brought her into the old line cabin she’d seen earlier. She noticed that it was a charming little place, built of sturdy timber, not the ramshackle shack she’d thought it to be. There was a wood-burning stove in one corner and two shuttered windows that could provide cross ventilation. There were two cots with rolled-up mattresses.

“You can lie down here for a minute,” Luke said as he stopped and set her on her feet. He wrapped one arm around her and leaned her against him as he unrolled one of the mattresses, then eased her down on it.

Before she could say anything, he turned and left. Shannon blinked at the ceiling as she wondered where he’d disappeared to. He came back a few minutes later carrying a canteen.

She reached for it, but he gave her a look and sat beside her. “I’ll hold it,” he said, slipping one arm under her to lift her as he held the canteen to her lips. His touch continued to be gentle, filling her with tenderness she couldn’t quite understand. As she drank, she looked in confusion to study his expression. His jaw was set as firmly as a bear trap, his eyes shadowed, but he treated her as carefully as he would a small child. Confused, she paused after one swallow.

He looked at her, his brows drawing together in a frown. “More,” he said in a gruff tone. “If you didn’t feel well, you shouldn’t have started out today with no water.”

“I have some . . . in the truck,” she said, dutifully drinking more water as he pressed the metal opening to her lips.

He grunted as if asking why she hadn’t brought it along with her to the creek. Given his bluntness, she didn’t know why he didn’t voice the question. When she was finished, he settled her onto the mattress, then stunned her by removing a clean handkerchief from his pocket, wetting it and bathing her face.

Casually, he reached for the buttons on her blouse.

Her hand fluttered up to stop him. “No,” she gasped. This was getting way more personal than she wanted it to be.

He raised one of his thick, dark brows. “I’m not planning to try anything. Women who faint at my feet don’t turn me on.”

“How do you know?” she asked. “You said I’m the first one who’s ever done it.” Heat rushed into her face, and she wished she could call the words back.

She saw humor spark in those unusual caramel-colored eyes of his. “I only had to be kicked in the head by a horse once to know I didn’t like it.”

Whatever that meant, she thought, disgruntled as he casually unbuttoned the first three buttons of her blouse and bathed her throat and chest. His touch may have been disinterested, but her reaction wasn’t. Her heart kicked into quick time, and she was sure he could see it pounding in her throat, feel it as he swabbed the area above the swell of her breasts—which was instantly bathed in a rush of heat. She was surprised steam didn’t rise from her skin.

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, rounding her shoulders to discourage his touch, though to her shame, her treacherous body liked it too much. “I feel better now.”

Luke’s answer was a nod of acknowledgment as he stood. He watched her shaky fingers do up her buttons, then he crossed the room, tossed the damp handkerchief on a small wooden table, pulled a chair out and carried it across to her. Spinning it so the back faced her, he straddled it and placed his arms along the top. His gaze swept her again, sending a tingle of awareness through her.

Shannon’s eyes skittered away from his. She wished from the depth of her soul that she could get up and get out of here, but whenever she tried to lift her head, the world tilted on its axis. She didn’t like being at a disadvantage, and with Luke Farraday, it seemed even worse than it would have been with anyone else.

After a minute, he asked, “Are you pregnant?”

Her startled gaze flew to meet his. His eyes met hers with a cynical expression. “Certainly not,” she sputtered. “I’m not even married!”

That brought a rusty laugh from him. It sounded as if he hadn’t used it in a while. “Miss Kelleher, I think we both know marriage isn’t required to produce a baby.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she said quietly but firmly. “I’ve been sick with an ear infection. It’s better, but...”

“But you should have stayed home in bed until you were well. Why didn’t you?”

She was stunned that he seemed to be angry with her. After all, no one had forced him to help her. He could have left her crumpled on the ground to recover on her own. “I had to get back to work. My boss...” She realized that her boss had wanted her to come to work today in order to deal with the man in front of her. Good old Wiley, she thought. His philosophy was, Why deal with a problem if you can get someone else do it?

She wasn’t going to tell Luke that. She’d already blown her professional image. No point in telling him of her problems with Wiley—no matter how numerous they were.

“Your boss insisted you come to work? Why didn’t you stand up to him?” Luke asked, irritation simmering in his voice. “You don’t have any trouble standing up to me.”

“You’re not in charge of my biannual performance review,” she answered ruefully. “Or my salary raises.”

“Maybe you should talk to the person in charge of his,” Luke suggested.

“I might if his boss wasn’t also his mother’s brother.”

“Ah.” Luke tilted his head back. “Nepotism lives.”

“I’m afraid so,” Shannon agreed weakly. She wished she hadn’t said that, but she couldn’t call it back. She seemed to be making one stumbling, bumbling mistake after another today. Luke was right. She should have stayed home until she was well. She was here now, so she was determined to struggle through.

“Mr. Farraday,” she said, trying to sound briskly competent in spite of the weakness in her voice. “Thank you for helping me.” She sat up shakily and swung her feet to the floor. To her intense relief, the world remained firm and didn’t do one of those nauseating spins she’d been experiencing all day. She was pleased that she felt only a slight tremor in her hand when she smoothed her hair from her face. She took a steadying breath and glanced at him. “Now, why don’t we return to our discussion about your rangeland?”

“Because the discussion is closed,” he answered, standing and returning the chair to its place. He stood with his hands resting on his hips while his eyes narrowly assessed the color in her cheeks. “If you’re feeling better, let’s get you back to your truck. It’s time for you to go.”

Shannon gaped at him. “Really, Mr. Farraday, you can’t just refuse our help—”

“Of course I can. Haven’t you heard? It’s a free country. This is my place, and I’m my own boss.” In spite of his dismissive words, he hovered over her as she stood shakily, then took her arm and helped her to the door, gathering his canteen and handkerchief along the way.

She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the strength. He led her to the gelding he’d ridden to the stream. “We’ll ride double on Dusty,” he said. “I don’t want you falling off of Jezebel.”

Shannon laughed. “That gentle animal’s name is Jezebel?”

He shrugged, and again she saw that spark of humor. “How was I to know when she was a filly that she’d turn out to be such a lady?”

Shannon grabbed the pommel and placed her left foot in the stirrup as she looked over her shoulder at him. “You sound surprised.”

He stood behind her and placed his hands at her waist. “Not surprised. Wary.” With what seemed like the smallest flexing of his muscles, he boosted her into the saddle. “I’ve learned that wariness pays when dealing with the female of any species,” he said, turning to snag Jezebel’s reins and scooping Shannon’s hat from the ground.

Dazed, Shannon replaced her hat while she settled into the saddle. She kept her feet out of the stirrups so that Luke could mount. She wasn’t prepared for her reaction when he did. Awareness moved along her nerves like an incoming tide, first along the backs of her legs where they touched his, then her back, and finally up her spine, across her shoulders and down her arms as he reached forward, tied Jezebel’s reins to the pommel, then gathered those of his own horse. He clucked to Dusty and turned toward the ranch buildings.

Shannon, accustomed to handling her own mount, didn’t know quite what to do with her hands as they rode along. She refused to hold on to the pommel like a tenderfoot, so she tightened her knees against the mare’s sides to hold herself steady and settled her hands on her thighs. Glancing down, she saw that if she moved her hands back a few inches, she could touch Luke. Unexpectedly, her palms grew warm at the thought, and it made her even more light-headed than she’d been when she fainted.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. These strange reactions couldn’t be attributed to her illness. Something about Luke Farraday was affecting her in the oddest way. Was it because he was a stranger? Most of the ranchers and farmers she dealt with were people she’d known all her life. Maybe it was because he seemed so distant and unyielding. Whatever the reason, she needed to get her mind on business.

Grimly, she straightened away from Luke. “This is a wonderful ranch you’ve bought here,” she ventured.

“Even if the grass won’t support five hundred head of cattle?” he asked in a dry tone.

His deep voice vibrated through her, distracting her from her purpose. Strangely, she felt as if the timbre and vibration of his voice set off an answering chord in her. She leaned forward to escape that sensation. “With some work and proper management, we could have it in shape in no time.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

“So you said.” Shannon twisted to look at him. Their eyes met, and she was temporarily distracted when she noticed that his eyes had flecks of gold in them, which only added to their unique appearance. She forced her mind on track. “I’m sure you’ll try to do what you can here, but you need an expert. You need me.”

He set his jaw, and his eyes raked over her. “I have to wonder why this is so important to you.”

“It’s my job.”

“Is that all? Or could it be because it’ll enhance your reputation if you can do what that guy who called last week couldn’t do?”

Stung partly because it was true, she turned. “Of course not.”

He gave another one of those dry laughs. “Can it, Miss Kelleher. I’ve already said no.”

Shannon’s mouth tightened. “I heard you.”

“But you don’t listen very well.”

She ignored that “Do you know the history of this ranch?”

“As much as I need to know.”

His tone discouraged discussion, but she forged ahead anyway. She could be stubborn, too. “The Crescent Ranch is one of the last intact spreads in this area. It was homesteaded at the turn of the century by the Crescent family. The last member, Millard, built the fancy rock ranch house but should have put some of that money back into range management and improvement. He didn’t, though, and lost the place during the Depression. It’s had half a dozen different owners since then, until Gus Blackhawk bought it about thirty years ago. Some people say he bought it for his son, Garrett, but Garrett didn’t want it, so it’s been leased since then. I guess old Gus thought his son would change his mind someday and come back to live here.”

“Thanks for the update on local gossip,” Luke said.

“Sorry,” she answered, miffed. “I just thought you’d be interested in the past so you’d know what to avoid in the future.”

“I already know what to avoid. Interference.”

“So you said.”

“Just keep in mind how impossibly stubborn I am.”

She winced at having her words thrown back at her. “I shouldn’t have said that. I apologize.”

“Why apologize?” he asked with a shrug. “It’s the truth.”

Shannon gave up and made no further attempts at conversation as they rode across the range. Looking around, she felt sad at the knowledge that this ranch would never be returned to the lush vegetation it had once known.

When they reached the barn, Luke dismounted and helped her down. “Are you all right to drive back to town?”

“Yes.” She was worn-out, but she couldn’t admit it. Maybe her time with him had made her as stubborn as he was.

As if he didn’t believe her, Luke grasped her chin. Tilting her head, he looked into her eyes as if checking her pupils. Shannon’s gaze flew to meet his. “I’m fine,” she said.

Luke didn’t release her jaw. Instead his touch lingered. His eyes studied her face. One corner of his mouth tilted upward, but it wasn’t a smile. “Beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re too damned beautiful.”

The way he said it was an insult. Shannon snapped her head out of his grasp and nearly sent herself into another swoon. She turned, plucked the keys from her pocket and scrabbled for the truck’s door handle. He was there ahead of her.

“You’re in no shape to do this.” He rapped the words out. “I’ll drive you back to town.”

“Absolutely not,” she responded, her eyes flashing as she turned to him. “You’ve done quite enough.”

“No, I haven’t.” He snagged the keys from her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Shannon watched in impotent fury as he took the horses to the barn, unsaddled them and turned them into the corral. She wanted to run after him and demand the return of the keys. Unfortunately, he was right. She was in no shape to drive or to go tearing around after him.

But he didn’t have to be so high-handed about it.

Accepting defeat, she climbed into the truck and sat behind the wheel, arms folded and lips drawn into an angry line as she waited for him to return with the keys. He was back within a few minutes and didn’t even pause when he saw her. He scooted her aside and took her place behind the steering wheel.

“I guess it won’t do any good to point out that this vehicle belongs to the agency and only its employees are allowed to drive it?” she asked.

“You’re right. It won’t do any good at all. Fasten your seat belt.”

“How will you get home?”

Luke stuck his right thumb in the air. “I’ll hitchhike.”

Shannon turned in her seat to examine his grim profile, the hard set of his jaw. With his face shadowed beneath the brim of his black hat, he reminded her of a gunslinger of the old west. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “There’ll be any number of people willing to pick you up.”

“I bet you’d be surprised.”

“Not today,” she said wearily. “Nothing about you would surprise me.”

He stopped at the highway to wait for traffic and shaved a look in her direction. “You don’t have this whole diplomacy thing down too firmly, do you, Miss Kelleher?”

“I thought I did until I met you, Mr. Farraday.”

That brought another of those gritty laughs.

Shannon didn’t respond. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling unsettled, infuriated and powerless all at the same time. She’d never been around any man who was so determined to have his own way, who was so convinced his own way was right.

Turning her head, she stared at the scenery they passed. Cattle grazing in the lush grass in a field belonging to the McAdam family gave way to a field of prairie flax waving its lavender blossoms in the breeze. Two years ago, their fields had been as badly overgrazed as Luke’s, but they’d prospered with a little help from her and lots of good management by the McAdams. She wouldn’t waste her breath telling Luke that, though.

She told herself it was none of her business. She had tried and failed, but it galled her.

“Sulking won’t make me change my mind,” Luke said, giving her a sideways glance.

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You could also stick your bottom lip out and start crying, but that won’t make me change my mind, either.”

Chin in the air, she said, “Even if I thought it would, I wouldn’t resort to that. I’m a professional.”

He didn’t answer, but she saw his face twitch. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was fighting a grin.

They reached Tarrant within twenty minutes, and she directed him to the agency’s office building. It was a small redbrick structure, and the windows of Wiley’s office faced the parking lot. Shannon noticed a shadow behind the miniblinds and knew that her boss lurked there, watching her arrival. He would have something to say to her about letting Luke drive her back to the office. That was okay, though. She had plenty to say to him.

Luke parked the truck, stepped out and hurried around to help her out before she could gather her clipboard and reach for the door handle. When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand. “Don’t bother to thank me. I know you wouldn’t mean it.”

“No,” she responded, exasperated. “I wouldn’t.”

His long, callused fingers touched the brim of his hat. “Then let’s don’t be hypocritical by wishing each other a good day. It hasn’t been a good day for either of us.” With that, he turned and strode toward the street, his long legs and easy stride covering the distance in seconds.

Watching him go, Shannon slumped against the side of the truck and shook her head. “Who was that masked man?” she whispered with a silent laugh. She felt as if she’d spent three hours in his company and knew little more than she had when she’d stood on the floor of his barn and appreciated the sight of his backside.

In that time, she had gone through almost every emotion a person could feel, from appreciation to happiness to fury and indignation. No wonder she was dizzy.

Luke strode around the corner, then stopped and stepped back to see if Shannon was all right. She was just disappearing inside the building. Good. She was safely in her office, at her job, in her own life. She wouldn’t be coming to his place again. He’d made sure of that, though he knew he should be ashamed of his rudeness.

He resumed walking down the wide sidewalk of Tarrant’s main street. If he’d been capable of it, he would have stopped to appreciate what a pretty little town it was, but he hadn’t chosen the area for the beauty of its county seat. He’d bought the Crescent Ranch because he could afford it and he could own it outright. No sharing. Never again would he be in a position to let someone have a say in his place. Not financially. Not agriculturally.

Not even a beautiful range management specialist with midnight blue eyes and black hair was going to tell him how to run his place. Unconsciously, Luke’s hand went to the pocket where he’d tucked her card. Yeah, he’d kept it, though he didn’t know why. He’d never use it.

What he had told her was true. She was too damned beautiful. She was also too damned disturbing. He didn’t need that. He had work to do. Alone. He liked it that way.

He crossed to the side of the street where the traffic was heading east, toward home, and stuck out his thumb. The irony of thinking such thoughts, then begging for a ride wasn’t lost on him, but he wasn’t going to make a practice of asking for things from his neighbors, not even rides. The fewer things he asked for, the fewer obligations he had, the less he would be disappointed. Hurt.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was something in Shannon Kelleher’s big eyes and sweet mouth that could disappoint and hurt a man. He didn’t need that.

But her card was in his pocket, and he left it there.

Wiley pounced as soon as she walked in the door. “Who was that guy? And what was he doing driving my truck?”

Shannon lifted an eyebrow as she skirted around him and headed for her small office. “When did the agency sign the truck over to be your personal vehicle?”

“You know what I mean.” He dogged her steps.

In a cool tone, Shannon explained what had happened. Typically, Wiley didn’t express any concern for her welfare. She wasn’t surprised. Her boss was a secretive man whose main interest was himself.

“I know you lied to me when you said no one had contacted him.” She pointed a finger at him. “You tried to call him on the phone last week, and when he wouldn’t talk to you, you sent me out there. How I got back is my own business.”

Wiley’s ferocious frown told her he didn’t care that she knew he’d lied. “Did you do any good out there? Get him to sign on for the project?”

Shannon locked her shoulder bag in her desk drawer and sat down to go through her mail. “Not yet. But I will.” She wished she felt the confidence she put into her voice.

“Humph,” he said, turning to leave her office. “You can’t do this job. They should have hired a man for it.”

Shannon wanted to respond that they should have hired a man for Wiley’s job, too, but that would surely get her into hot water. She was growing weary of the constant struggles with him, and lately his animosity was tinged with an undercurrent she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He watched everything she did almost jealously, but she concluded it was because he had wanted his nephew to get her job. She could only think that he couldn’t seem to forgive her for being better qualified for the job—or for being a woman. Her only consolation was the knowledge that it was his problem, not hers.

As she cleared her desk, Shannon came across the paperwork she’d begun to get Ben and Timmy started on the lengthy grant awards process. They would have needed government money to fix up the Crescent Ranch. Except for their names and the date of purchase, she had filled in all the necessary information. It was true that she wanted to help her cousins, but it was part of her job. She would have done the same thing for a total stranger like Luke Farraday. Maybe she still could. She would hold on to these. He might change his mind. With a wry smile, Shannon told herself she was being ridiculously optimistic. She dropped the forms into a drawer and closed it.

She propped her elbows on her desk and pressed her fingertips to her lips as she wondered if there was any way to get him to change his mind. He’d told her that he didn’t want anyone telling him how to run his place, but she thought there was more to it than that. She didn’t know any rancher who liked government interference, but most of them were willing to work with her for the betterment of their land and cattle. She would have to think about the situation with Luke and see if she could come up with a better approach—just as soon as she stopped dwelling on what a disturbingly attractive man he was.

On Saturday morning, Shannon happily snuggled her two-month-old niece, Christina, against her chest and tucked a light blanket around her as they made their way down the sidewalk of Tarrant’s business district. Her mother and two sisters, Brittnie and Becca, were at the grand opening of Lauren’s Boutique, a shop owned by a friend of the family. Shannon, who hated shopping on the best of days, had no desire to go into that crowd no matter how much she wished Lauren well, so she had volunteered to take care of Becca’s baby.

Her family teased that she really didn’t care very much about clothes, and that was true, though she’d sought to please them today by dressing in a red shorts and top outfit that Brittnie had brought back last November from her honeymoon in Mexico. She liked the outfit because the shorts weren’t too snug or revealing and the top was loose enough to be comfortable.

Shannon pushed the stroller with one hand, held the baby with the other and drifted down the walk, gazing in windows and stopping frequently to talk to shoppers, most of them friends who wanted a look at Christina.

The sidewalk ended in front of the feed store, and she started to turn toward the boutique only to get the stroller caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Carefully supporting Christina, she was bending to free it when a hand came down, picked the stroller up and spun it around in the direction she wanted to go.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling and glancing up. She straightened abruptly, and surprise sponged the smile off her lips when she saw that her rescuer was Luke Farraday. “Oh, it’s you.”

He lifted a brow at her. “So it seems. Are you feeling better?”

The solicitous words were belied by the coolness of his tone. Shannon wondered why the contrasts in this man seemed to fascinate her so much. It had been more than a week since she’d been to his ranch, but she’d thought about him every day. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m completely well now.”

He nodded toward Christina. “Not yours, I take it, since you told me you’re not married.”

“My niece.” Shannon turned Christina so Luke could see her face. The whole Kelleher Saunders family agreed that she was an exceptionally beautiful baby, with her dark eyes and wispy hair. The baby looked at Luke and broke into one of her rare smiles.

Shannon glanced up in time to see something move in Luke’s eyes, a swift shadow of longing that first set her back on her heels, then made her doubt what she had seen, so quickly was it gone.

The thought flashed through her mind that he was determined to remain a loner, but even he had vulnerabilities. She wondered if it could be that he had the same needs most people had for family. She wished she knew more about him. She knew he lived, and ranched, alone.

Luke’s gaze flashed to hers, and the softness she’d seen disappeared. She glanced down to see he was carrying a box of items from the feed store. “You’ve been shopping,” she said lamely.

“Isn’t that what everyone’s doing here on a Saturday morning?” he asked, nodding toward the mass of shoppers. “Except you, it seems.”

“I only shop when my back’s to the wall.”

“You don’t like buying stacks of new clothes, maybe some diamonds, a fur coat?”

She burst out laughing. “And wear them where? To help Pete Minton reseed his north pasture? Luke, you’re a riot.”

At her flippant tone, he narrowed his eyes. “Then you’re an unusual woman.”

“I thought we’d already established that.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.” He tipped his hat to her and started to turn away, but he paused, looking up the sidewalk with a frown.