A Wife in Wyoming (5 page)

But he and Garrett and Dylan had moved about a hundred cow-calf pairs to nice fresh pasture near the mountains. He'd spent the hours outdoors, soaking up pure Wyoming sunshine. His favorite boots still fit, and his jeans were even a little loose. Whatever they cooked up for dinner tonight, he planned to eat a lot of it. All in all, a good day.

“Race you to the barn,” Dylan called, as he surged past on his Appaloosa gelding, Leo.

Ford shook his head. “Crazy.”

Garrett blew by, leaning over Chief's black neck. “Loser makes dinner!”

Without a second thought, Ford flicked the end of the reins at his palomino, Nugget, and set out after them. He hadn't been in a horse race in several years—he'd be lucky if he stayed on for the half mile to the barn, much less caught up.

At the end, the three of them came loping across the last field and up the road, their horses neck-and-neck. Dust clouds billowed around them while flecks of foam from the horses came back in their faces. They passed the finish line—the corner of the barn—and only then saw the truck parked in front of the house. The three cow ponies all came to a sliding stop right beside Caroline Donnelly's bright red pickup.

It used to be bright red, anyway. Now a thick layer of dust had faded the color to dirty maroon. Caroline stood on the porch with Wyatt, watching with wide eyes, her mouth forming a big O of surprise.

“Busted,” Dylan muttered.

Ford threw him a warning glance. “You're doing dishes.”

Garrett said, “Him and me both.”

Wyatt's glare seared them even from a distance. “Is this any way to bring in a horse that's been working hard for you all day long? I'd expect you three to know something about taking care of your animals, but I guess I was wrong. You can just go out again and walk those ponies till they're cooled off—a good twenty minutes, I'd say, after that gallop. Once you've unsaddled, rubbed down and fed them, you can get over here and wash Caroline's truck off. She's staying for dinner, so when you've got the truck clean, you can come in and start cooking. I'd like to eat by seven.”

With a curt nod, he turned his back on them, opened the screen door and ushered Caroline into the house.

They didn't make seven, but by seven thirty Ford had finished his chores and managed a quick shower, plus a change of clothes. He started to shave but stopped himself with razor in hand. It wasn't as if he was going on a date.

In the kitchen, he checked the chili he'd thrown together, mixed a salad and took a stack of dishes off the shelf. Then, pulling in a deep breath, he went in to set the dining room table.

As he expected, Caroline stood in the doorway to the living room a moment later. “Can I do something to help?”

“Sure.” He'd meant just to glance over, but he got snagged by the sight of her in the last rays of sunlight, with copper glints sparking in her hair, her eyes shining, her skin glowing. She wore a red-and-blue-patterned dress that stopped well short of her knees. The long length of leg above her blue leather boots was a lovely thing to behold.

Ford struggled to get his brain back online. “We're...uh...having chili and salad.”

“Sounds delicious.” She came to the table and took the stack of bowls. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“Ford did most of the cooking before he went off to college.” Garrett walked in, carrying glasses and silverware. “He figured out menus all of us would eat without getting bored. After working at the feed store, he came home and made dinner every night. We've never eaten so well since.”

She nodded, smiling. “That's impressive.”

Ford's face heated up at the simple compliment. “Yeah, but I hate grocery shopping.”

Caroline shook her head. “See, I don't mind that part. I just make a list and speed through. I'll even put it all away when I get home. But when I come in at night, the last thing I want to do is make a mess in the kitchen.” She shrugged, and he noticed her pretty shoulders in the sleeveless dress. “I end up eating cereal and bananas more often than not.”

“Not much of a dinner.” He was setting plates around the table, going in the opposite direction as Caroline until suddenly they stood side by side. They both moved back, laughing, and Caroline stepped forward to slide by, but somehow there wasn't quite enough room in front of the table, and their bodies brushed together, her back to his front, as she moved across. Ford sucked in a breath, only to catch the scent she was wearing, flowers with a hint of musk. He couldn't remember when he'd last thought a woman smelled so good.

“I'm starving.” Dylan came in from the living room. “When do we eat?”

“When you put on a clean shirt.” Garrett nodded at the dust and dirt he'd worked in all day. “We have company tonight, remember?”

Caroline shrugged. “Don't bother on my account.”

Dylan held up a hand. “No, he's right. I'll jog down to the studio. Won't take a minute.”

Grateful for the distraction, Ford escaped to the kitchen. He'd strategically set Caroline's place between Wyatt and Garrett, so it was Garrett who pulled out her chair. By the time Dylan returned, dinner was served, and Ford was able to sit down at a safe distance from their guest.

Which was when he discovered that he was placed directly across from her and would see her every time he looked up from his plate. He watched as she smiled at Wyatt, at Garrett and Dylan, heard her parry his youngest brother's flirtatious comments and witnessed, again, her excitement as she and Garrett and Wyatt discussed the plans for the kids. Even when she was giving serious thought to a suggestion, light danced in her eyes, like a smile biding its time. Ford barely managed to finish half of his one bowl of chili.

But worse was yet to come. Once they all declared they'd eaten enough, Wyatt used the table to lever himself to his feet. “I've got some work to finish on the computer tonight. But Caroline wanted to check out the bunkhouse and the manager's cabin, see what needs to be done before the kids move in. Ford, can you walk her over, unlock the doors, give her a tour?”

What could he say? “I'll be glad to.”

Though he was anything but.

* * *

C
AROLINE
SENSED
F
ORD
'
S
reluctance as they crossed the front porch. As she hesitated at the edge, he took the three steps down and then turned to look at her when she didn't follow.

“Something wrong?” He glanced toward her truck. “They got the dust off pretty well, I think.”

“As if that was even necessary.” She was embarrassed that Wyatt had required his brothers to clean her vehicle. “It'll be dirty again before I get home to my apartment.”

“Apartment?” He tilted his head, gazing at her in the cool blue twilight. “You don't live out at the ranch these days?”

“Um...no. I have a place in Bisons Creek, the top floor of the old Curry house. Remember it?”

“Sure. I'm just surprised, that's all. I thought you'd be living at home.”

“No, Ford. I grew up and moved out.”

His jaw tightened. “Sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad.”

“Like you are?”

He held his hands out from his sides. “I'm not mad.”

“You're clearly not happy to be showing me around. I was going to apologize, but that'll take more of your valuable time. So let's get this done, and I'll be out of here as fast as I can.”

She jolted down the steps and stalked past him, headed for the building on the other side of the barn that Wyatt had pointed out as the bunkhouse.

“Caroline, wait. Caroline!” Ford caught up with her, grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. “Don't run away. Again.”

Breathing hard, she glared at him. “I am not running away. I didn't run away yesterday. But you keep backing off, and I'm trying to give you the distance you so obviously want.” She hated that saying it hurt enough to sting her eyes with tears. “Let. Me. Go.” She jerked her arm, trying to get free.

His fingers didn't loosen around her wrist. “I'm not letting go, so calm down. It's like fighting with a butterfly.”

She stopped, appalled. “I am not a butterfly.”

“No, you're a really beautiful woman who's driving me crazy.”

Her jaw dropped open in shock. She closed it and swallowed hard. “What did you say?”

Finally, he released her and slid his hands into his pockets. “I said you're beautiful. And you're driving me crazy. Because I can't think of anything I'd enjoy more than getting to know you very, very well.” His rich voice went even deeper on the last few words. Caroline understood exactly what he meant, and a shiver shimmied along her spine.

“But,” he said, recovering his normal, even tone, “flirting with you would be a bad idea. Wouldn't even be possible, with seven teenagers and my three brothers running all over the place.”

Caroline put her hands on her hips. “Are you so sure I want to—to flirt with you?”

His grin flashed in the growing darkness. “Not at all. I'd have to earn it, which would be part of the fun. You'd have to concede. Also fun.”

More images that would keep her awake tonight. “You've thought this all out in two days?”

“Herding cattle doesn't take much brain power.”

“So you're not mad. You're just avoiding me because you like me too much?”

“Exactly. The fact is, I'll be leaving for San Francisco before the summer ends. You've got family and responsibilities here. I don't want to risk starting something we can't easily let go.”

“I've never had such a backhanded compliment.” She blew out a sigh and then took three strides away from him. “There's your distance, Ford. Now, let me see this bunkhouse.”

They crossed a grassy area to the timber-sided building. Inside looked just as she imagined it would—a long, paneled room with a kitchen and dining area at the end closest to the door, sofas and armchairs and a television stand grouped together on the far side, and a separate bedroom with bunks arranged along the walls.

“This is perfect,” she said. “Exactly what we need.” Everything wore a fine layer of dust, but it wouldn't require much work to be ready for the boys.

Trouble was, trying to come up with impersonal conversation wasn't easy, now that Ford had said he was attracted to her. Every impulse urged her to explore what could develop between them. Her gaze tended to linger as he walked around the room, feasting on the sight of his square shoulders under a plain blue chambray shirt, the shine in his dark gold hair, the shape of his long-fingered hands. If he'd been “cute” as a teenage boy, he was heart-stopping, dynamite gorgeous as a grown man.

“Caroline? Hello?”

She realized she wasn't paying the least attention to what he'd said. “I'm sorry. I was thinking about...um, sheets and pillows. What did you say?”

“I asked if one of us should sleep in here with the boys, keeping watch, so to speak. Are these kids apt to run away?”

“I don't believe so.” The possibility hadn't occurred to her. “They're not here under duress. This is supposed to be a fun way to spend an otherwise boring summer. And it's a five-mile walk into town.”

“There are five trucks they could take, if we include yours.”

“None of them is old enough to have a driver's license.”

“I was a thirteen-year-old once. I would have killed for a chance to drive.”

“You must have been a reprobate.”

“Absolutely.”

She smiled at him, he grinned back and there was a moment of connection when she was tempted—oh, so tempted!—to want more.

Ford glanced away first and turned his back to walk toward the door. “It's getting late. We should check out the cabin so you can be on your way home.”

Biting her lip, Caroline followed. She didn't try to talk to him, didn't point out the stars beginning to appear in the sky or the thin line of pink where the sun glowed behind the mountains. He'd just shown her the rules. She would try not to break them again.

The girls would be staying in the former manager's cabin, a cozy building with a separate living room and eat-in kitchen plus two bedrooms. It wasn't as dusty as the bunkhouse, but needed some freshening up.

“I might try to do some painting, if you wouldn't mind.” She didn't look directly at Ford as she spoke. “The pink and green bedrooms are kind of dingy. And the bathroom could use a face-lift. The girls will care about stuff like that, where the boys won't.”

“No problem.” He was keeping his distance, leaning against the doorjamb while she explored the bedrooms. “We can help with that. With four of us, painting shouldn't take long.”

“The Circle M must have been a big operation to have a manager's cabin and a bunkhouse that sleeps eight.”

“When Henry was younger, he owned more land and ran more cattle, which required more cowboys.” He retreated into the hallway as she came toward the door. “But his wife died when they were barely in their fifties. They didn't have kids, so the heart just kind of went out of him. He sold off half his acreage and most of his cattle and managed by himself till he got older. Then he hired Wyatt. The rest of us came along as a bonus.”

“I imagine he liked having you all around the place.” She led the way into the living room. “You were probably the children they wanted.”

“Maybe. Or maybe he was too good a rancher to let the place go to ruin.” He opened the door for her to exit, and she made sure to leave a wide space between them as she passed. The fact that she had to think about doing so was simply wrong.

But she kept walking as he locked the door, so he had to catch up with her again. “Anything else you need to see?”

“No, thank you.” Caroline wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and pretend she didn't know Ford Marshall, wouldn't recognize him if he kissed her on the lips.