Читать книгу Stranded With The Rancher - Rebecca Winters - Страница 10
ОглавлениеWhile Alex stared at the man in the picture, a little beagle came running in, sniffing at her.
“Oh...look at you.” She leaned over to pet him. “How cute.”
“Come back here, Otis,” a man’s voice sounded. She turned around to see who’d spoken. The housekeeper and a man with silver in his dark hair, probably in his seventies, had come into the room. He walked with a limp and used a cane.
“Martha? I thought you said Alex Dorney was out here.”
“This is Alex.” She smiled at Alex. “Meet Royden Fielding.”
The older man shook his head. “Whoever named you Alex was crazy. With that blond hair and the face of an angel, you’re the most beautiful sight ever to walk inside this house.”
His over-the-top compliment came as a total surprise. “Thank you, Mr. Fielding. My legal name is Alexis.”
“I still don’t like giving a man’s name to a woman. Where did you say you were from?”
“New Jersey.”
“Ah! That explains it. Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”
Alex smiled inside. She would love to know what that meant, but decided not to pursue it and did as he asked. The adorable dog lay at his feet.
“Jose told me you wanted to get some information from me. Why in blazes would a woman from New Jersey want to talk to me about sheep?”
She opened her briefcase and pulled out a recent issue of the magazine. Alex handed it to him. “I write for this publication.” She explained about wanting to stay ahead of national trends in the food business and what it meant for the economy. “The little research I’ve done tells me there’s a rise in the demand for lamb, which is unusual. I’m out here to find out why.”
“It’s about time,” he muttered.
Again she didn’t quite understand his meaning. “Go ahead and scan some of the articles.”
“I’ll read yours here on seafood consumption.” He spent ten minutes perusing it before looking up. “You really know what you’re about, don’t you? How come neither mutton nor lamb was even mentioned as a protein source?”
“I had to quote the information I was given from a graph quoting comparisons of meat and fish, but I’m puzzled, too. That’s one of the reasons why I’m here.”
“But I’m the wrong person to help you with the kind of information you need.”
“Why is that? The administration at the Wool Growers Association in Casper said you’re the person who has all the answers.”
He laughed. “They were just pulling your leg.”
Disappointment swept through her. Maybe her subject being hard of hearing made it more difficult to do an interview. “Mr. Fielding—”
“The name’s Royden.” He cut her off. “You want the nitty-gritty of this business? You need to talk to my grandson, Wyatt. That’s his picture on the mantel.”
Alex hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him since she’d entered the room. “But he’s in a firefighter’s dress uniform.”
“He’s a rancher and sheepman first. Wyatt knows it all. He ought to, since I taught him everything.” The man’s gray eyes twinkled.
Her spirits were suddenly lifted again, but she did wonder why he didn’t want her to interview him. “Would he be willing to talk to me?”
“He would, but he’s up in the mountains right now at his camp.”
“How soon will he be back?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “That’s when I have to return to New York. My flight is already booked.”
“I thought you were from New Jersey.”
“I am, but my apartment and the magazine office are in Manhattan. Could I phone him?”
“He’s beyond cell range. Can’t you stay longer?”
“I wish I could.”
“For you to come all the way out here for a story does you great credit, young lady.”
Alex laughed. She hadn’t been called that since she was a little girl.
“Tell you what. I’ll ask Jose to drive you up to the pasture right now. You’ll have to stay overnight.”
“But I’m not equipped.”
“Have you ever camped out?”
“A few times at the beach with my family.”
He shook his head. “Not the same thing, but don’t worry. Wyatt will have everything to accommodate you. Jose will go back for you tomorrow afternoon. That way you can get an interview with Wyatt before you have to fly home. He’ll give you some angles you hadn’t counted on.”
Mr. Fielding had just offered her a solution and she was going to take it, even if it meant roughing it for a night! She would have to call and cancel her hotel reservation.
“If Jose will do that for me, I’d be very grateful to him and you.”
“You sit tight while I give him a call. I’ll ask Martha to find my wife’s sheepskin-lined parka along with her cowboy boots and gloves. You look the same size as my Ida. She passed away two years ago.”
“Thank you.” She studied him for a minute. “I’m sorry you lost your wife.”
“So am I. When I shot myself by accident out hunting it brought on her fatal heart attack.”
Alex’s eyes closed tightly for a minute while she tried to take in the gravity of those tragedies. Despite the importance of following through on this assignment for the magazine, she had a feeling his life’s story would be more amazing than any information she could glean from his grandson about sheep.
* * *
BY LATE AFTERNOON the wind had picked up. Wyatt eyed the roiling clouds and noted the drop in temperature. By nightfall a storm would hit. He might have known the great weather couldn’t last. Thank heaven he and Pali had brought down the last third of their thousand head of sheep to the seven-thousand-foot area of scrubland. The Fieldings owned some of it and leased additional acres.
Wyatt would keep the sheep at this elevation until mid-November, then take them down to the irrigated fields where the ranch’s crops were grown.
Only three ewes had been lost. His grandfather would be ecstatic to hear about that. Tomorrow they’d have to examine each animal and take care of those needing immediate attention.
While Wyatt was straightening up his camp for the impending storm, Gip started barking. A minute later, Wyatt saw Jose’s white truck coming up over the ridge. He honked the horn. The noise brought Pali out of his trailer.
Wyatt’s heart failed him. Something must have happened to his grandfather, otherwise Jose wouldn’t be here. Unable to bear the thought, he headed toward the truck. But as he got closer, he saw that Jose wasn’t alone. He’d brought a blonde woman with him, maybe midtwenties. What in the hell?
When the truck stopped, she jumped down from the cab in jeans and a T-shirt. The cold wind that was growing stronger by the second molded the fabric to her beautiful body. She was also wearing his grandmother’s cowboy boots and carrying her parka, of all things.
His gaze traveled upward to her oval face with green eyes as lush as the patches of grass growing in the mountain passes. Her hair was cut in a cute, short style that the wind kept rearranging.
Gip ran over to Jose who got out of the truck and lowered a suitcase to the ground.
“I’ve brought you a visitor. This is Alex Dorney from back East. She came to the ranch to talk to the boss, but he sent her up here to see you. Since this storm is going to hit soon, I need to get back down the mountain. My kids are home for a few days. I’ll be back tomorrow to get her.” With those words of explanation, he got into the truck.
“Wait a minute!”
But Jose was too quick for him. Within seconds he’d started the engine and taken off.
Wyatt turned to the woman, who cocked her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Fielding. Your grandfather said there was no service up here to alert you I was coming.”
The old man must he losing his mind!
Judging by her accent, this woman was a New Yorker. “He was right. We need to get you out of this wind before the downpour starts.” Noticing that Pali had gone to his camper with Gip, Wyatt grabbed her two cases and headed for his three-man tent.
She followed him inside. The roar of the wind tugging on the canvas told him this was no small mountain squall that would pass over in an hour. He knew in his gut they were in for the kind of violent early-fall storm he hadn’t seen for at least ten years.
* * *
THANK HEAVEN HE’D had the tent custom made with two entrances. The one could be used for emergencies, in case he was forced to cook on his old Coleman stove and needed the ventilation. He hadn’t used it this trip because he and Pali cooked in the trailer.
As for the heater, it had a hose connected to a hole in the tent that allowed ventilation to the outside. Because of the warm weather, Wyatt hadn’t bothered to set it up. Who would have thought he’d need any of the equipment this trip?
He lit a lantern and turned to her. “While you change into the warmest clothes you’ve brought, I have things to do, but I’ll be back. Make yourself comfortable.”
Wyatt reached for his parka and stepped out of the tent, zipping it up before he raced to his truck. He undid the tarp to unload the gear he hadn’t anticipated needing because he would have stayed with Pali. Already he could feel rain droplets. The deluge was about to start.
After making several trips to the tent, he’d grabbed everything necessary and retied the tarp. Just as he stepped inside, the heavens opened. When he glanced at his breathtaking visitor, she was sitting on his camp stool wearing his grandmother’s parka and Justin cowboy boots.
She looked up at him. “Your grandfather sent these clothes with me since I didn’t bring a coat. I didn’t think I’d need one with such beautiful weather everywhere.”
“The sudden change surprised me, too. That parka will keep you warm.”
“I’m sorry for just showing up like this. What can I do to make the situation better?”
He stifled a frustrated laugh and reached for the extra sleeping bag. After unrolling it, he pulled out the pillow tucked inside. Once he’d grabbed a blanket, he threw it and the pillow on the end of the bag.
“If you want to put your suitcase over here next to your sleeping bag, I’ll turn on the heater and warm up our dinner. Then we’ll talk.”
The fierce wind and rain didn’t let up. Wyatt had set up a temporary kitchen near the back opening with his food supplies and heated the coffee on his stove. “Sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
He dropped in two cubes and handed her a mug. The steam mixed with the flowery fragrance she’d brought inside the tent. She had moved the stool over to the end of the sleeping bag and brushed her hair. It gleamed a shimmering silvery blonde in the light of the lantern hanging from the ceiling of the tent. The wind gusts had grown worse, causing the lantern to swing.
To his dismay, his attention wandered to the pale yellow crewneck cotton sweater she’d put on beneath the parka. His gaze fell lower to her legs. The cowboy boots managed to accentuate the elegant length of her figure. He estimated she was five foot seven or so.
Still surprised to find himself in a small tent with a beautiful woman in the middle of a terrible storm, he got busy opening containers of biscuits and beef stew. When the meal was ready, he handed her a bowl of food and a spoon. She thanked him, and he sat down cross-legged on his sleeping bag while they ate.
“Do you think this storm is going to last long?”
Wyatt figured she must be terrified out of her wits, but she handled it with amazing calm. “I’m afraid it’s going to go on all night.”
“You’re kidding! But it’s only September!”
He got up to serve himself a second helping. “Ten years ago an early-fall storm swept through the Wind River Range unexpectedly. This feels just like it. I’m surprised my granddad sent you up here.” However unexpected the impending storm, a seasoned man like his grandfather must’ve known it was coming. Was the old man losing his touch?
“Your grandfather was anxious I get the chance to speak to you before I go home on Saturday. I’m certain he didn’t know.”
Wyatt hated to tell her this, but no one was going home on Saturday, or anytime soon. “Jose has worked for my grandfather for years in all kinds of weather. He must not have sensed how bad the coming storm is, or he would have refused to bring you.”
“I’m sure the last thing he wanted to do was drive me up here.”
Wyatt glanced at her. “He was just doing what my grandfather pays him to do. Would you like more stew or biscuits?”
“No, thank you. The food was delicious.”
He had to admit her polite manner warmed him. Wyatt glanced at his watch. Eight thirty. Before she went to bed she would need to go outside to the compost privy he’d set up in the one-man tent. But it was a little early for that. Wyatt got to his feet and put her bowl over by the makeshift kitchen area he’d set up with a little camp table. His custom-made tent had been enlarged on purpose to handle more gear.
“I have to talk to Pali, but I’ll be right back.”
After rummaging in his duffel bag for his hooded windbreaker, he put it on over his parka and let himself out of the tent, into the raging storm.
Wyatt ran against the powerful wind and stinging rain to Pali’s trailer. Gip must have heard him outside and barked, because his friend opened the door so he could get in fast. The two men stared at each other.
“We’re in for it this trip, Pali. Remember ten years ago?” Wyatt had been nineteen back then. Pali had been twenty-three.
The other man nodded. “Twenty-four inches of snow. We were stranded with the sheep for days.”
“Yup. It’s going to happen again.”
“Do you want the woman to stay in here? I can room with you.”
“Thank you, but I believe she’s nervous and probably won’t like being alone. I think it will be better if she sleeps in my tent tonight. Tomorrow could be a different story. Do you need anything before I go back to her? Thank God I brought plenty of food and supplies.”
“That’s good to know, but I’m fine.”
“All right. See you in the morning.”
He patted Gip’s head before facing the elements again. This time, icy shards of sleet attacked him. It was turning fast. There was going to be a storm the likes of which he suspected Alex Dorney had never experienced.
* * *
WRAPPED IN THE PARKA, Alex sat on the stool and drank another mug of coffee. It was great coffee, much better than she was used to, and she was comfortable enough because of the heater Wyatt had turned on. But she continued to shiver at the ferocity of the storm raging outside. If she didn’t know better, they could be on Mount Everest, which was a silly thing to think since she’d never been on any mountain.
She didn’t fear for her life. Royden Fielding’s grandson had already proved he was a breed apart from any man she’d ever met or known. She was convinced he could handle any situation and wouldn’t let anything happen to her. But home felt an eternity away and she was stuck up here with a total stranger who hadn’t asked for her company.
A man who didn’t have the right to be so impossibly gorgeous. Being a writer who made her living choosing the right words, Alex kept coming back to that particular adjective because no other synonym, like striking, attractive or handsome, adequately described him. She wondered if he was married. If so, he didn’t wear a ring, and his grandfather hadn’t mentioned a wife.
When he came back into the tent, removing his windbreaker and parka, she couldn’t decide which look she liked better—the firefighter in dress uniform or the hunky mountain man needing a shave. He wore a long-sleeved wool shirt and jeans that molded to his powerful thighs. The combination of disheveled raven-black hair and eyes that glowed blue was too much. Maybe the lack of oxygen really had affected her.
“Ms. Dorney? The privy tent is right around the side of this one. You can hold my windbreaker over your head while I take you out. Shall we go now?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
She’d been worrying about that. After she carried the mug over to the little kitchen camp table, he handed her the windbreaker to arrange before he put his parka back on. “The wind is gusting, so just hold on to my arm.”
“Oh—” she cried when she stepped out of the tent. The blizzard blew nonstop snow in her face. She might as well have been blind as he led her to the little tent he unzipped. After he handed her a flashlight, she managed to zip up the tent and do her thing. The whistle of the wind sounded so eerie, she was afraid she’d be carried off into the void.
In any other situation, she’d rather go through this alone, but at the moment she was thankful he was right there when she unzipped the flap again. He pulled her against his rock-solid body and zipped the tent closed, then held her around the waist until they reached the entrance to the big tent. The warmth and safety of it and him, felt like heaven.
He took the windbreaker and shook off some of the snow before zipping them inside. Alex walked over to the heater and knelt in front of it for a minute.
“More coffee?”
“No, thank you. I think I’d better not.”
“Smart girl.”
“More like desperate.”
When she stood up, she found him smiling. It warmed every ounce of her body. The high altitude couldn’t be blamed this time for turning her legs into traitors.
“Here I thought I’d be staying overnight in a saloon with rooms upstairs when I drove into Whitebark.”
“And a bunch of rowdy cowhands throwing a week’s pay at you for the chance to be up there with you?”
She laughed. “Something like that.”
One black brow lifted wickedly. “The place exists.”
Her smile faded. “I’d rather be here with you.” Her voice throbbed. “Thank you for helping me. I know I was the last thing on earth you expected to see arrive with the storm.”
His hands went to his hips in an unconscious male stance that made him even more desirable. Utterly desirable. “You’re right about that, but I admire your calm.”
“Thank you.”
Those piercing blue eyes played over her. “This has been a long day for both of us. Can I get you anything before I turn off the lantern?”
The lines of his rugged features fit the outdoor life that made him so extraordinary. “Maybe some ear plugs,” she teased. The roar of the elements was almost deafening.
“That’s probably the only thing I didn’t bring with me.”
“So I’ve noticed. ‘Everything but the kitchen sink’ has taken on new meaning.”
A chuckle escaped his lips.
Alex took a deep breath. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for putting up with me when you didn’t have a choice. No unwanted visitor was ever treated with better care. I’m ready for bed now.” Though she couldn’t imagine sleeping with the wind threatening to lift the tent off the ground. She’d worry about brushing her teeth tomorrow.
“The heater will go off and on during the night, but you’ll stay warm.”
This cowboy took care of everything. She removed the parka and laid it over the end of the sleeping bag where she’d spread out the blanket. After sitting on the stool to take off the cowboy boots, she climbed in and curled up on her side while she watched him.
In an economy of movement he tidied the kitchen area. To her surprise he walked over and handed her a bottle of water. “You might get thirsty during the night anyway.”
The “anyway” brought more laughter to her lips. His sense of humor shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after meeting his grandfather.
“There should be another word besides thank-you.”
His eyes searched hers for a quiet moment before he reached up and turned off the lantern. The moaning of the wind drowned out any noise he made getting ready for bed. It was the loneliest sound in the world. But with him inside the tent, she knew a strange contentment that was foreign to her.
“Ms. Dorney?” came his voice out of the darkness.
“Please, call me Alex.”
“All right, Alex. I’m waiting to hear what was so important my grandfather sent a woman fresh from the Big Apple up to sheep country.”
“I work for Rockwell Food Business Magazine, based in Manhattan as a contributing writer.”
“I read it regularly.”
She sat up. “You do?”
“It and a dozen other publications that keep abreast of news in the meat industry. Depending on how long you’ve been writing for them, I might have read one of your articles.”
His grandfather’s words rang in her head. Among other things, he’s a sheepman and knows it all.
Alex lay back down, surprised by her own stupidity. Everything was making sense, including the fact that his grandfather read her article thoroughly before asking questions.
“Last Saturday I flew out to Colorado to talk to some sheep ranchers at the Wool Growers Association convention in Montrose. After a few days I flew to Casper to attend a similar convention there. The people in charge told me the best person to ask for information was Royden Fielding.”
“Grandad would have liked to be there, but he needed me to take him, and I had to be up here.”
If he had attended that convention, Alex would have met both of them there. But it hadn’t happened that way. The thought of not meeting Wyatt Fielding bothered her in a way she didn’t understand.
“I called and set up an interview this morning, then flew to Jackson Hole.”
“And you were spared having to spend a wild night in Whitebark.”
She smiled. “Being up here on a mountain with sheep, fighting rain and gale-force winds, is what I’d call the real Wild West. I came to pick your brains about lamb.”
He burst into that rich kind of male laughter she loved. “Before I knew you wrote for that particular magazine, I thought you might be a photographer my grandfather sent up so you could get some spectacular photographs of the mountains.”
“There’s a thought.” She clutched the pillow. “So, when do you fight fires?”
“Several times a week when I’m back in town. But I also have a ranch to run.”
“Your grandfather wasn’t exaggerating about you.”
“He always exaggerates,” he corrected her.
She could believe it, but she also knew that for Royden the sun rose and set with his grandson. “Before we say good-night, do you mind telling me what you did today before I arrived?”
“Is this for research?”
“Yes.” Well, that and she wanted to know everything about him.
“We brought down the last four hundred head of ewes and rams over rough mountain terrain and streams from the ten-thousand-foot level where they’ve spent the summer. Once we start down, they wander off if you’re not chasing them every second. They get lost, caught in shrubs and trees, nearly drown and can fall off cliffs on the way.
“Considering the ewes are pregnant, that makes the journey down more treacherous. If the lamb lovers of this world knew what we go through, they’d pay us billions for the privilege of being served lamb chops and roasts at the dinner table.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“Why not? Now, I don’t know about you, Alex, but I’m exhausted. Let’s sleep on the subject, and tomorrow I’ll answer all your questions after we have breakfast and I check the herd with Pali.”
He had to be worse than exhausted. She turned on her other side, away from him, so she wouldn’t be tempted to talk anymore. Alex’s mind filled with pictures of him chasing her instead of sheep all over creation, until oblivion took over.
