Читать книгу Cowboys And Cradles - Sharon Swan - Страница 11

Ryder had spent the better part of the day dealing with bankers and was glad to be back at the ranch, out of a suit and dressed in his usual denim. Not that he regretted the lengthy questions he’d answered or the stack of forms he’d filled out. They’d tried his patience, but his spirits were far from dampened. With any luck at all, the extra financing he needed would be at his disposal by the time Eve Terry decided to throw in the towel.

Maybe her riding lesson this afternoon would speed her on her way, he thought as he parked his dark-blue pickup along one side of the ranch house stable and swung to the ground in a single, easy movement. To him the world was made up of two kinds of people: those who genuinely loved horses, and those who were convinced they loved horses until they’d spent a few hours on the back of one. If Eve was part of the last group, her nose would have already wrinkled at a good whiff of horse sweat, not to mention the barnyard smell of horse sh—

A woman’s laugh, soft and light, broke into Ryder’s reflections. If it was Eve—and who else could it be?—she seemed to be enjoying herself. Well, she just might be, even if she was in that second group, he conceded with a shrug, since he’d handpicked the oldest and slowest mare on the place for her first lesson. Buttercup didn’t move fast enough to work up a sweat.

Next time, assuming Eve was game for another lesson, he’d have to pick something a bit more challenging. Not too much, though. He didn’t want her to break her neck. He just wanted her gone.

But when Ryder moved past the stable and got a view of the corral, he was ready to break someone’s neck, or at least wring it for a satisfying moment. Zeb Hollister’s immediately came to mind. The old wrangler was supposed to be riding herd on the ranch’s new owner, and here she was, clearly having a grand time smiling down on young Cody Bodeen, who was checking her stirrup and managing to get very close to a shapely leg in the process—a leg clenched around a horse Eve had no business being on.

Three long, rapid strides took him to the edge of the fence. “What the hell is going on here?”

The black mare reacted first, surging up on her hind legs to paw the air. Cody’s swift tug on her bridle brought her back on all fours, and it took him another moment to bring her to a complete standstill. Then he faced Ryder with a wary look.

“I know I’m supposed to be up on the north range, but Zeb wasn’t able to give Miz Eve her riding lesson.” He rushed on to explain what had happened. “So with you and Zeb gone,” he added, “I offered to help.”

And avoided hunting strays at the same time, Ryder thought. His steely gaze didn’t waver. “And just how did Miz Eve—” he copied Cody’s twang for those last words “—wind up on a horse you know damn well she shouldn’t be on?”

“I’m riding Sable because I wanted to,” Eve said calmly, interrupting before the younger man could reply. “In fact, I ordered Cody to saddle her up.”

Ryder turned his gaze on her, not softening it in the slightest. “You ordered him?”

“Yes,” she replied in that same calm tone. “The mare you picked should be put out to pasture, since she’s probably old enough to collect Social Security.” One tawny eyebrow rose. “Or did you bring her out of retirement solely for my benefit?”

He had, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Buttercup,” he replied with what he felt was admirable restraint, “is the right horse for a beginner.”

“And I began with her. Now I’m ready for something else.”

“That brief demonstration a minute ago should tell you the something you’re ready for isn’t Sable,” Ryder muttered. He didn’t miss the way Cody watched their exchange like a verbal tennis match, eyes shifting back and forth.

“You scared her with your bellowing,” Eve protested. “We were getting along fine before you arrived on the scene. I’ve already taken her around the corral several times, and she’s been an angel.”

“She can also be a devilishly uncooperative female when the mood strikes.” He was no longer talking strictly about the mare, and Eve knew it, if the sudden spark that lit in her gray eyes was anything to go by.

“Maybe it depends who’s on her back.”

Ignoring that zinger, he blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not going to argue the point with you. Why don’t you just get down and we’ll drop the subject?”

“I don’t plan on arguing, either,” she promptly informed him. “It would be wasting time better spent taking Sable for a real ride outside this corral.”

He counted to five under his breath, then ten. And his temper still got the better of him. “You want to take a real ride? Okay.” Reaching up, he tugged the rim of his black Stetson low on his forehead in a gesture as challenging as an Old West gunfighter’s. “Cody, saddle up Lucky. Miz Eve and I are going to tour the ranch.”

And he’d do his best to make sure she came to no harm, he told himself, even though he was now certain whose neck he wanted to wring.

EVE GRIPPED THE SADDLE with tender thighs and issued a quiet sigh. Although an hour and several miles had clipped by since their confrontation in the corral, she had no trouble recalling how she’d watched Ryder mount up for their ride with such effortless grace, or how the soft curse she’d muttered under her breath had been directed as much at herself as at a wide male back. She’d been well aware of the mistake she’d made. Rather than attempt to compromise as she usually tried to do, she’d dug in her boot heels. And look where it had put her.

Not only was she spending time with someone she’d been going out of her way not to spend time with, she was doing it on horseback when parts of her had already been headed toward saddle sore before they’d even started out. Still, she’d never so much as considered backing down at any point, and on that she remained firm. Pride was on the line and she was seeing this through, no matter what.

No Complaints and No Regrets. That was her motto for the moment. Besides, without the physical discomfort, she knew she’d be totally enjoying the ride.

Sable had resumed her angelic ways, responding to the slightest tug on the reins. Not that Ryder was impressed, Eve noted with a sidelong glance. He continued to watch the mare like a hawk, clearly waiting for a devilish side to appear. An occasional word or two was all he’d offered so far, which was fine with Eve. The lack of conversation as they rode side by side allowed her to concentrate on her surroundings, and what she saw all around her made that effort more than worthwhile.

The desert, far from barren as some believed it to be, was a starkly beautiful place. The variety of cactus alone, from short and squat to tall and stately, created a constantly changing landscape. Trees, delicately green paloverdes and darker, gnarled mesquites, also flourished, along with a surprising amount of animal life.

The cattle were expected, of course, and every now and then groups could be glimpsed in the distance, Herefords with white faces and rusty-brown coats. But there were other animals, as well. Big-eared rabbits, tiny lizards, bushy-tailed prairie dogs, chattering birds. They were all here if one looked carefully, before they darted away as the horses got too close.

Something Eve had suspected she might see, and was very grateful not to have seen so far, was anything slithering along the ground. She’d never considered herself a coward, but the mere thought gave her the shivers. She’d rather face a hungry lion than a…

Snake!

Without warning, it was there, coiled near the side of the narrow dirt trail they rode down. Instinctively reacting to the sudden sight, she let out a small shout, jerked back on the reins, and almost instantly found herself airborne as Sable shot up on two legs to paw at the sky.

Ryder’s curse, brief and graphic, followed a thump as Eve landed on her rear and rolled—right into the snake! Something pierced her upper thigh before she scrambled up and lunged back toward the trail, only to come up against a solid chest.

Strong arms wrapped around her, held her so close she could feel Ryder’s heart pounding and knew her heartbeat matched his. “Good Lord, are you hurt?”

She sucked in a breath and raised her head. “No, I don’t think so.” Then she remembered the instant of piercing pain she’d experienced and realized the spot still smarted. Her eyes went huge.

“Oh, my God. I may have been bitten by the snake. I almost rolled on top of it.”

Dark brows snapped together. “What snake?”

“It was on my side of the trail, just coiled there. Scared the living daylights out of me. That’s why I yelled.”

He eased her an arm’s length away, ran his gaze over her. “Where did it get you?”

She twisted slightly and pointed to a spot high on her outer left thigh, noting a jagged tear in the denim fabric there.

Plainly seeing it, too, Ryder cursed again while he maintained his grasp on one arm and led her to a short, rounded boulder located on the opposite side of the trail from where she’d fallen. “I have to get a better look,” he told her, then made quick work of unbuckling her belt and shoving her jeans nearly to her knees. That done, he urged her into a makeshift seat on the boulder and crouched down beside her.

“It’s a puncture wound, and it’s not bleeding much,” he said after a moment, taking a snowy white handkerchief from his back pocket to pat it against her skin. He tipped his hat back and gazed up at her, his expression sober. “I want a good look at that snake.”

Her blood went cold. “What if it’s poisonous?”

He snagged her left wrist, pressed her palm on the soft cloth to hold it in place before getting to his feet. “It could be totally harmless, but even if it isn’t, there’s rarely a grave danger when the victim is a healthy adult. I just need to make sure exactly what we’re facing here.”

She fought for control, took a steadying breath and managed to achieve it. “Okay.”

He launched a probing glance. Apparently satisfied that he didn’t have a hysterical woman on his hands, he turned away and headed for the place where she’d landed on her rump.

Left alone and prompted by a gentle breeze gliding over bare skin, she became fully aware of her exposure. Granted, the long front and back tails of her ecru cotton shirt covered more than short shorts would have. Still, enough flesh remained on view to make something inside her clench at the unbidden thought of a certain male mouth sucking venom from a wound that was scant inches from other parts of her.

Back to reality, Eve, she told herself briskly, fairly sure modern medicine frowned on that technique. If it turned out she was in any sort of danger, the head honcho would probably put his take-charge attitude to good use by hauling her off to the nearest hospital. And she’d be grateful, despite the fact that no one had taken charge of her since she’d gone off to college.

At the sound of footsteps Eve raised her gaze and watched Ryder approach, swinging something from one large hand—something that had her shuddering before she realized it was too stiff, too rigid as it cut a path through the air, to be what she’d thought it was. At the same time, it was something she recognized all too well.

He stopped directly in front of her and held up the object. “Is this the snake you saw?” he asked mildly. Too mildly.

She knew she was on very shaky ground. “It looks like a snake,” was all she could come up with to say.

“It’s an old, wind-twisted mesquite branch. A sharp edge must have pierced your skin when you rolled into it.”

“It looks like a snake.”

“It’s a damned hunk of wood.”

“It looks like a damned snake,” she said stubbornly.

With clear disgust, he flung it backward over a broad shoulder. “Heaven save me from greenhorns and their imagination,” he muttered as he turned away. “I’ll get the first-aid kit and patch you up.”

Ryder whistled for Lucky, and the stallion was immediately at his side. He reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a small plastic box, still grumbling. The fact that he half blamed himself for what had happened only added to his dark frame of mind. He should have just flatly refused to let Eve ride a horse she wasn’t ready for, he groused inwardly. And he would have done it…if she wasn’t his boss. Cripes, how was a man supposed to deal with that?

And how was any male supposed to hide what a glimpse of smooth-as-cream thighs did to him? At first, with health issues in question, he’d been too concerned to consider anything else. Then he’d found the twisted piece of wood no seasoned outdoors person would have mistaken for anything threatening, relieving his mind and rousing something else when he got another look at his companion, jeans at her knees. If her attention hadn’t been fixed on the bogus snake, she’d have probably noticed that his zipper was no longer as flat as it had been minutes earlier.

Ryder pried open the kit and knelt next to Eve. He drew a deep breath and instantly regretted it. God, she didn’t even smell simple, he thought, taking in a sophisticated blend of exotic flowers and warm woman. He willed his hands to remain fixed on their objective as he slipped the handkerchief from her grasp, letting it fall to the dusty ground, and began to clean the wound.

“The antiseptic may sting,” he told her with a trace of huskiness he couldn’t hide.

Her leg jerked slightly when he gently touched torn skin, but she didn’t make a sound. He continued his task, trying to ignore a scant inch of pink lace that peeked out from between the slit sides of her shirt, and failing. At that moment, ignoring a rattler primed to strike might have been easier. By the time he applied a flesh-colored Band-Aid, he’d started to sweat. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think it’s serious enough for stitches. It should heal fine on its own. You’ll need a tetanus shot, though,” he tacked on, dropping his gaze and making a bigger production of repacking the kit than necessary.

“I got a shot before I came here.” The soft rustle of clothing, the low rasp of a zipper, accompanied Eve’s reply. “I know it’s important when you live around animals.”

At least she knew that much, he griped to himself, rising. He ventured a glance, discovered she was fully dressed and, after a moment, also noted a tendency on her part to look everywhere except his way. It suddenly occurred to him that he might not have been the only one affected by their enforced intimacy. Somehow that put him in a better mood. He didn’t like what was coming next, yet if it made his boss half as uncomfortable as it was bound to make him, maybe she’d think twice before overriding his judgment.

Ryder checked the time on the plain gold watch Pete had traded hard-earned money for to proudly produce as his college-graduation present, something he wouldn’t have traded for the fanciest Rolex. “It’s late. I’ll take a look around for your hat, then we have to start back.”

Eve resisted the urge to wince and told herself not to be a wimp. Despite various aches and pains, most of which centered where she’d be sitting, she had to get back on a horse, and there was no sense whining about it. “Don’t bother with the hat. If my memory serves me right, I landed on it when I fell.”

Ryder replaced the kit and turned to her. “Okay, let’s get going. Fortunately, Lucky can carry both of us.”

Eve frowned, puzzled because she knew her horse was uninjured. She’d already been reassured by the sight of the black mare standing several yards away, head dipped to munch on sparse grass. “Sable’s fine. I’ll ride her.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Ryder propped one shoulder against the stallion’s saddle. “I have a feeling that won’t be so easy.”

Eve’s chin rose right along with her renewed sense of pride. “I am perfectly capable of riding her.”

One corner of his mouth tipped up. “First you have to get her over here. Go ahead, call her.”

Recognizing the challenge underscoring those words, Eve called. Sable lifted her head, viewed her owner with gleaming dark eyes and stayed put. She called again. And nothing happened. When she took a determined step forward, the mare took a step backward. When she stopped and coaxed in a soothing tone, the mare went back to munching grass.

After several frustrating minutes of more of the same, Eve placed her fists on her hips. “Get your butt over here right this minute, Sable,” she ordered, stomping a foot to emphasize that statement.

The mare’s only response was to bob her head up and down, snorting all the while.

Eve’s spine stiffened in indignation. “I think she’s laughing at me.”

A sudden cough may have masked Ryder’s own laugh. Eve couldn’t be certain, since a quick spin found nothing to confirm it. “Are you ready to go now?” he asked calmly.

Still bristling, Eve returned to where he stood. “We can’t just leave her here. You try something.”

“I’d have to chase her down, and there’s no time for that if we’re going to make it back before the sun is history. Don’t worry, she’ll follow us. She’s smart enough to know there’s plenty of food and water waiting for her.” He bent over, linked his hands. “Put your foot here, and I’ll give you a leg up.”

She went up and up, and met the saddle with a small groan she couldn’t restrain.

“A bit tender, Miz Eve?” Now he was laughing at her. She was sure of it, even though she couldn’t see his expression as he mounted behind her.

Two people could indeed share a single saddle, she learned a second later—if the two in question were plastered to each other from shoulders to knees, if an unyielding chest melded to a supple backbone, if hard thighs cradled far softer ones, if some very private male anatomy came flat up against some very sore female anatomy.

It gave, she decided, a whole new meaning to the phrase up close and personal.

“Everything okay?” a low voice at her ear asked as Lucky ambled forward.

“Uh-huh.” She could hardly tell him that her nerves were stretched as taut as some of her muscles.

A skillful flick of the reins had the horse turning to retrace its steps. “We’ll take it slow and easy.”

“Uh-huh.” She wanted it fast and done with. A foolish wish, she knew. The stallion couldn’t handle both their weights and run a race at the same time. And, truth be told, her body wasn’t up to being jostled more than necessary.

As though well aware of the shape she was in, Ryder grasped the reins with one hand and slid an arm loosely around her waist. “If you tense up now, you’ll suffer for it later. Why don’t you lean on me and try to relax?”

The offer caught her off guard. Yet it shouldn’t have, she quickly realized. By and large, cowboys seemed to be naturally chivalrous. Fantasy knights in shining armor? No. Gallant in their own way? Absolutely. She recalled how Cody Bodeen had automatically tipped his hat. Ryder’s suggestion probably meant nothing more than that. Knowing she was bone tired, he had reacted accordingly.

What he didn’t know was that she seldom leaned on anyone, physically or emotionally. Her parents, special souls that they were, had raised her to be independent, encouraged her to never be afraid to try her wings. And she blessed them for it every time she met capable people too bound by what others thought they should be doing with their lives to try theirs. In her own way she had soared. Not to great heights but great enough for her. And she’d done it on her own. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t lean on someone else just a bit right now, just for a little while.

Eve let out a long breath and reclined slightly against the man behind her.

“That’s better,” he told her. “You won’t even have to put anything extra in my paycheck for the service.”

It made her smile faintly, eased more of her tension. “I’ll stick a gold star on your personnel file instead,” she promised, tongue in cheek.

“Thanks. I was afraid I’d have to do something truly amazing, like stand on my head on the back of a horse, to get one of those.”

The image had her chuckling. “Have you ever actually tried that?”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged, “when I was young and stupid.”

Although he’d certainly been young once, she didn’t believe for a second that this man had ever been less than intelligent. Reckless, perhaps. Stupid, never. “What happened?”

“I landed on the head I was trying to stand on.”

Now she gave in to the wince she’d held back earlier. “That’s a mental picture I can do without. Recent experience has proved it’s painful enough landing on the other end.” She let out a breath. “I have to admit I’ve been waiting to hear you say I told you so.”

“I told you so.”

His all-too-ready response had her grumbling. “Guess I should have kept my mouth shut.” But there was no real heat in that statement. “Is Sable following us?”

Ryder’s chin brushed her temple as he turned his head. “She’s there, all right, keeping her distance and having a great time, judging by the way she’s dancing around.”

Despite her exhaustion, Eve’s jaw set with determination. “I’m going to ride her again.”

“Eve—”

“But not outside a corral for the time being,” she assured him before he could continue the stern warning she was sure would have followed. “Not until I feel I can handle her no matter what we come across.”

His tone turned wry in a flash. “Does that include dead mesquite branches?”

Eve still had her pride, and she was sticking to her story. “It looked like a damned snake.”

RYDER VIEWED the sight of ranch buildings in the distance with sheer relief, grateful to know they were almost there. The return ride had seemed endless, and time had little to do with it. He assumed Eve was at least half-asleep, since she hadn’t said a word in some time and now leaned heavily against him, obviously totally relaxed.

He, on the other hand, was as tense as a steel fence post and quietly going crazy.

Even if Eve had been fully awake, her backside might be too numb to feel what pressed against it with growing enthusiasm, unmistakable evidence of a physical reaction he’d tried to curb. And failed. Thoughts of ranch business, which normally won his full attention, had proved to be no match for the lure of a woman’s softness.

And added to that, he supposed, was what he’d learned today about this particular woman.

Eve Terry could take it when the going got tough, and she did it without complaint. With some people, he knew the whining would have long since started. Hell, being thrown from a horse and then coping with a possible snakebite would have left more than a few shaken to the point of tears, not to mention hysterics.