Chapter Eight

Luke

Everything was moving quickly and yet, not fast enough. He hadn’t imagined ever getting married, because he never found the right woman. But the moment Saunders said the words, he knew. He knew he’d step in and marry Rachel. It was the perfect solution. He could take care of her and keep her near. She was as mad as hell, but she’d come around. He’d do whatever it took to make her see his way.

They stood face to face, reciting their vows as they held hands. The expression in her eyes drifted from anger to fear and back to anger. When it came time to kiss, he lowered and brushed a chaste kiss across her lips. She softened her mouth and permitted the kiss.

Saunders asked Rachel and him to sign a few papers, transferring ownership of accounts and a few sundry legal matters. After that, they drove home in silence. When he stopped in front of the house, he put the truck in park and turned to face her.

“I inherited half a ranch,” she said, staring straight ahead.

He studied her and took in her lovely profile. She’d arranged her hair in an elegant knot that he yearned to tug loose. He wanted to see her hair tumble past her shoulders. He imagined burying his face into the curve of her neck and inhaling her scent, kissing her there. Biting and marking her.

“You didn’t inherit half a ranch. You inherited a whole ranch and you got married.”

“You’re saying that after a year, you’re not going to call it quits?”

“That’s what I’m saying. Exactly.”

He got out of the truck and came to her door. Instead of helping her down, he scooped her into his arms, kicked the door shut with his boot and carried her up the stairs. While he’d intended the gesture to offer a little romance to the day, she clearly didn’t appreciate his efforts. Hardly able to meet his gaze, she kept her eyes averted until he had her over the threshold and set her down.

The house was empty. It was just the two of them. She took a few steps back from him, teetering on her heels, giving him an alarmed look as if he might pounce on her right there in the middle of the hallway. And not that he wouldn’t, someday, do just that. But not today.

Silence stretched between them as taut as a bowstring, drawn tight with all the things that hadn’t been discussed.

Where would each of them sleep?

How would they manage day-to-day business of the ranch?

What did each of them want?

He drew close to her, watching for signs she might panic, just as he would study a frightened horse as he approached. “This is the way it’s going to go, baby.”

She flinched at the endearment, but he pressed on.

“I’m going to take care of the ranch and everything outside that door.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “And you’re going to take care of the house.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “What a surprise. Am I allowed to wear pants?”

A memory sprang to mind, the way her fine ass looked in yoga pants this morning while she cooked breakfast.

“I don’t mind you wearing pants.” And just to tease her he added a small barb. “I’ll allow it.”

“Gramps complained about me wearing pants. I’m surprised he didn’t add a dresses or skirts only mandate. Pantyhose too. Along with this stupid idea that I need to be married to have the ranch. I’ll wear whatever the heck I want to wear.”

“You look pretty nice now. That tight skirt looks sexy as sin on you, Rachel.”

A shadow of fretfulness passed behind her eyes. Had he gone too far, teasing her about her skirt being tight?

“You’re going to tell the men that we’re married?” she asked.

“I am.”

“And you’re going to sleep here?”

“I plan to.”

He’d expected her to object, but she looked relieved.

“I’d like that. The house creaks at night.”

“It’s just shifting.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I know. I just don’t like waking up like that. I get teased by my friends for being a chicken all the time. Are you going to sleep in your own room?”

“Where do you want me to sleep?”

“In your own room,” she replied without hesitation.

He expected as much, but part of him still hoped she’d want him like he wanted her. If he’d pressed the issue and reminded her of how last night he’d made her cry out his name, she would have retreated even further. The memory would have to be set aside. For now.

“All right,” he said. “I need to get some work done. I’ll take the master bedroom. The guest bed is too short for me.”

“This is my house,” she said.

“No, darling. It’s our house. At least for the next year.”

She frowned, but said nothing and he turned and left the house.

After he changed and went to the barn, his lead cowboy explained that a mare was missing from the herd. They’d rounded up mustangs from the back pastures and when they did the head count, they’d come up one short.

Luke ordered his gelding saddled and set out for the 200-acre tract that lay behind the ridge. The ride would do him good, allow time to clear his head. Jed, the son of a gun, had pulled a fast one on him. Not that he minded. Not at all. He would have preferred to have known beforehand, but there was no helping that now.

Back when Jed was around to give orders, he would have told the men to forget about a single mare. The mustangs were part of a government program and the ranch didn’t make a lot of money from the contract. Jed would have shrugged off the potential loss of a mustang, but that didn’t sit well with Luke. He wouldn’t leave an animal out there on its own, vulnerable to predators. Plenty of times he and Jed argued about Luke riding long hours to bring a single animal home.

Luke passed the better part of the afternoon, searching for the mare and almost missed her. She was down, most of her hidden by the tall grasses. He spotted the tips of her ears at the same time his gelding scented her. The horse nickered and the mare answered.

“Shit,” Luke muttered. He always traveled with a gun in his saddle bag and in the years of cowboying never had to put an animal out of its misery. He prayed he wouldn’t need to on this day. When he approached, the mare got up and shook herself.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Luke murmured, drawing close.

The mare turned her head and Luke followed her gaze to find a foal lying in the grass.

“Look what you got, there, beauty. A little one.”

Luke pulled his horse to a stop and waited. The foal was dry so he had to be a couple hours old, at least. Luke watched as the foal struggled to get to his feet, wincing at a few painful looking false starts. After a few attempts, the animal managed to get up and went directly to his mother to nurse.

Luke smiled, wishing Rachel were here to see this. She would have loved the youngster and the way he swayed on his long legs. After the foal nursed, Luke turned the gelding the direction of the barns and was grateful the mare and her little one followed. The trip home took longer because Luke stopped several times to let the foal nurse and rest, but they finally got back.

The sun set over the western hills as he rode into the barnyard. He handed off his reins to one of the ranch hands. He gave instructions for the mare and foal. He waited to see that his orders were underway and turned to the house.

Jed’s home, an old two-story ranch house, sat on a slope facing the west. The wiring and plumbing needed updating, no doubt. Jed hadn’t spent a nickel on improvements. Luke made a list of what he wanted to check first.

Halfway back to the house, a blast split the quiet of the evening. Luke watched in horror as a ball of flames shot through the roof of the old home. A curse tore from his throat as he took off at a dead run.