The Makings of a Good Man by Lietha Wards (1)

The Makings of a Good Man

By Lietha Wards

Amazon Edition

Copyright 2012 Lietha Wards

 

Amazon Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

 

This book is dedicated to all of you romantic readers that enjoy a little escape every now and then.

 

Chapter One 

 

Before Father Davis started his sermon, he asked the Winters’ family to please stand so he could introduce them. He’d only been at the parish for five years, but he’d grown up in the town and making people welcome was something he liked to do. His brother, Marshal, who was present with their nephew, was the Winters’ neighbor and he was hoping that Marshal would welcome them as well. He shouldn’t hope, but that’s what he did. John loved his brother and prayed that one day he’d let someone love him back. It was no secret that Marshal wasn’t an easy man to get along with.

As the three stood—mother, father, and daughter—Ben, Marshal’s nephew, spoke in a barely audible whisper to try to not be heard by everyone around them. “Uncle Marsh, that’s the family that bought the spread next to ours.”

They were sitting adjacent to the Winters in the opposite aisle, a couple of rows further back. Ben had seen a moving truck at the old O’Neil residence when he rode the school bus the previous week. Obviously, the old man’s family had sold the place when he died. It was a very nice spread, but not as nice as his uncle’s.

Marshal heard his nephew, but he didn’t say anything as he eyed the three newcomers with mild curiosity. He knew from rumor that the man was a lawyer and had set up practice in Salt Springs, but being a cattleman was something you had to have bred in you. This man looked nothing like a cattleman in his three-piece suit. Marshal felt his lip curl sardonically. The man had money, though, and probably thought that was all he needed. When people tried to do something they weren’t bred and born for, they tended to make fools out of themselves more often than not.

Something seemed a little odd about the three of them. The wife didn’t raise her eyes at all and kept her head bowed while the husband grinned and nodded to various greetings with a false smile. However, the daughter was different. She was neither shy nor fake as she turned her head to look at everyone. Her expression seemed almost sad, but there was defiance in her eyes as they moved around the room.

She was beautiful, no doubt about it. She had long auburn hair plaited in a braid that fell halfway down her back, and as she looked around, Marshal saw large almond-shaped emerald eyes that complimented her perfect skin, oval face, and high-arched brows. She was wearing a very conservative print dress with a lace collar. It seemed too young a style for her.

“Not bad, eh?”

Marshal had forgotten about Ben, who’d obviously noticed him staring at the Winters’ girl.

“I heard her name is Beth.” He leaned toward his uncle with a glint in his eyes.

“Shut up, Ben,” Marshal answered in the same low tone as Father Davis continued the introductions and asking people to make them feel welcome.

Ben smirked and did as he was told. The words weren’t said harshly in the least, but more as a warning—Marshal didn’t like to be teased about women. Ben was probably one of the few people besides Marshal’s brother that could get away with it, but it usually wasn’t for long and they were smart enough to know when to stop.

His uncle had a reputation for being a hard man, but Ben knew that under that crust was a soft spot for the people he cared about. After all, Marshal was raising him. He’d seen the man clear a room with his temper, but he’d also seen him carry a newborn calf into the barn, warm him with his own hands, and soothe him with his deep voice.

People liked him because he had a quiet, confident pose about him that drew attention and he had no problem helping people out that were in need. As far as Ben could see, those who had known Marshal for years seemed to genuinely respect him.

A few years ago, Bobby, a good friend of his, told him he should run for mayor when the old one retired. He would be fair and honest, which is what every town needed. However, Marshal was a workaholic and being mayor would mean he’d have to give up some of his other responsibilities, which he wasn’t ready to do. He loved ranching, and as far as Ben was concerned, his uncle was born to do just that.

As Ben watched his uncle, he grinned because Marshal still hadn’t taken his eyes off the young woman except to tell him to shut up. Ben may have been barely in his teens, but he knew a pretty girl when he saw one and Beth Winters was definitely pretty.

When the sermon was over, they were on their way outside when Father Davis introduced Marshal to the Winters. Marshal tried to evade him, but John spotted him through the crowd and waved him and Ben over. Marshal wouldn’t disrespect his brother by ignoring him, but the look on his face let him know he was displeased. “This is Marshal,” John explained as Marshal and Ben approached, “my older brother, and he also happens to be your neighbor.”

John was always one to make people feel welcome, but Marshal couldn’t care less. John was outgoing and easy to get to know, whereas Marshal didn’t care if anyone liked him or not. They were opposites in many ways, but their brotherly bond was strong. He actually tried to leave because he knew damn well that John would try to wrangle him into making the Winters’ family feel welcome just because he was their neighbor. As far as Marshal was concerned, he had enough friends and had no desire to gain any more. Not only that, lawyers weren’t on his list of favorite people to visit.

“Brother?” Martin Winters said in surprise, holding out his hand. His brows rose as he perked up. He knew that spread next to his and it was damn wealthy, so he knew this man had money—and lots of it. He was eager to land clients like him. “That’s nice to know. So you’re the cattle baron I’ve heard so much about?”

Marshal shook Martin’s hand, hating that title. “Cattleman,” he corrected without humor, causing his brother to clear his throat in discomfort. It was true, to some extent: he was rich, but he’d worked hard for it and it wasn’t easy work. He’d inherited the spread from his father, who had practically run it into the ground before he died. It had taken Marshal ten years to achieve the success he had now, but it certainly wasn’t achieved without sacrifice.

Marshal oversaw everything and worked eighteen-hour days, which left no time for a love life—not that he wanted one. He still dated, but it was never serious and the women filled his needs as much as he required.

Martin’s brows went up further at the man’s tone, but he wasn’t intimidated; he was a lawyer, and he was used to animosity. “I see. Well, Mr. Davis, being your neighbor, I would hope that you would seek my business.”

“I have a solicitor, Mr. Winters,” he said as his eyes went past the man to the auburn-haired woman. Up close, the woman was more strikingly beautiful, but she looked quite young. He was sure she couldn’t be any older than twenty. Her clothing was still younger, and he really didn’t like it on her.

“This is our sister’s son, Ben,” John continued the introductions while placing his hand on his nephew’s shoulder. Ben stretched out his arm and shook Martin’s hand.

“This is my wife, Laura, and my daughter, Beth,” Martin introduced his family. “Beth is attending college here in the fall.”

“Oh?” said Marshal with sudden interest. “What is your major?” Usually, he didn’t initiate conversation, but learning that she wasn’t just beautiful but was ambitious too peaked his curiosity. He admired people who wanted to further their education, especially women. It was because of their older sister, who’d wanted to do just that, but their father made her stay home, saying that was a woman’s place. It was a waste of an intelligent mind. He made their mother home school Judy, and she ended up running away when she was in her teens. John and Marshal had only seen her once since then, when she came to give them Ben.

Beth’s eyes rose to meet his. She’d felt his attention on her earlier during church and when she was brave enough to finally look at him, he’d been talking to his nephew. She’d seen him around town. He was a large man with a rough appearance, but now he was wearing his Sunday best: a dark brown suit that brought out a warm hue in his mocha-colored eyes. She’d seen him walk by the café where her mother and she were sitting by the window and she caught herself watching him, but that was before she knew who he was. At the time, he’d had on a worn cream Stetson, dusty jeans, and a matching denim jacket. However, now that she knew he was the brother of their priest, she found herself interested in him because he couldn’t be half as menacing as he looked with someone so religious in the family.

When she saw him that first day, he was unforgettable. Despite his intimidating appearance, he had a stride that emanated power and confidence. In addition, it was obvious from the way he spoke that he didn’t care what people thought of him. She had to resist grinning at the way he corrected her father; there weren’t many people who were that brave. She couldn’t help but admire that trait, especially when she was raised on outward appearances—something she always despised.

An old scar ran down his left cheek and made him seem frightening, but now that she had a good look at him, the scar was nothing compared to how handsome he was. If he smiled, it would probably erase that frightening image, but she doubted very much that he smiled often. “English literature,” she finally answered.

“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow.

Just when Beth thought he couldn’t look any more appealing, he surprised her. She averted her gaze to try to avoid his eyes. Golden flecks were buried in that mocha stare and they actually made her knees weak. What the heck was wrong with her—had she never felt attraction for a man before in her life? Of course, that might have had something to do with her father’s strict rules: no dating and no staying out after 9 pm. If she even glanced at a man, her father would keep her at home until the man lost interest and moved on.

“Marshal has a degree in finance from Yale with a minor in English,” John offered with a hint of pride while shifting his eyes back and forth between the two. They didn’t seem to notice.

“Is that right?” she asked with a measure of surprise. Looking at him, she wouldn’t have guessed that he was academically gifted. He looked like he was born and raised on the range with a horse under him. A Yale graduate, no less! So the man wasn’t just disgustingly handsome, he was highly intelligent as well. Then Beth really looked at those eyes of his and saw a sharp cleverness. She’d missed it before because of his whole demeanor, but who could blame her? He seemed to be the type to chew on rawhide and swing a lasso. What was rawhide, anyway?

“Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes on her.

“It’s time we go,” Martin stated, noticing the interest his daughter gave the man. He reached into his pocket to remove a business card and handed it to Marshal. “Just in case you change your mind, Mr. Davis.”

Marshal took the card and his eyes went to the man’s possessive hand on his daughter’s arm. He nodded and Martin led his daughter and wife away. “That seem right to you, John?” he asked his brother, watching the family walk away. He didn’t miss the look the young lady gave him as her father led her off, but decided to keep it to himself.

John shrugged. “Not particularly, but then again, they are from the city. Folks from there seem a little more secretive than most.” He studied his brother’s expression. “She’s quite pretty.”

“Eye candy is what we would call her,” offered Ben with a grin.

Marshal spared Ben a glance that told him to leave it be. However, being a priest and his brother seemed to give John some extra forgiveness when he ticked his brother off on purpose.

“You are getting up in years, Marsh, maybe—”

“—You know me well enough,” Marshal interrupted while centering his angry gaze on his brother, “to know that I’ll pop you one despite who you are if you mention that bloody ‘M’ word again.”

John grinned. “All right, Marsh, but you shouldn’t let what happened in the past affect your relationships. Not all women are like that one.” He held up his hands in surrender when his brother took a step toward him. “I’ll shut up now,” he said without wiping the smile off his face, yet he was laughing inside. Marshal would never follow through, but he had to make it look good.

Ben eyed the two carefully. It wasn’t often he’d seen his uncle angry, but the outcome usually wasn’t good. In fact, he’d heard that Marshal had wrecked a bar or two in his rowdier years and ended up in jail more than once for misdemeanors, but since Ben came to live with him, he’d mellowed out a little. He suspected his uncle didn’t have it easy as a child because of some of the things he’d heard and he reacted accordingly.

It was common knowledge around town that old man Davis, his grandfather, was a drunk and used to take his anger out on his three kids after his wife left him. He finally ended up in jail from too many DUIs when Marshal was eighteen and John was seventeen. The oldest, his mother, had taken off when she was sixteen and no one had heard from her until she showed up with Ben one day, asking them to raise him for her.

The way he’d heard the story from John, Marshal took one look at him and couldn’t refuse her request. She left the next day, even though they offered to help her. Without going into details, John said that she was in no shape to look after an infant, but he knew she loved him and it was the hardest thing in the world for her to give him up. Ben tried to believe that, but as the years passed, he’d never heard from her and neither had John or Marshal. However, not once did they say anything bad about his mother, and he was sure they didn’t think it either.

John was sympathetic, saying that Ben had no idea what they had gone through as kids and that his mother got most of it because she was the oldest. When she left, the brunt of the abuse fell on Marshal until he was big enough to stop their father. He’d gone to jail shortly after that and died in prison. Neither brother went to the funeral. Ben couldn’t imagine the kind of hurt someone had to dish out to have that happen. He knew the sacrifices the brothers made for him and never took them for granted. They weren’t always wealthy and Marshal had worked his fingers to the bone to get the ranch out of debt. Then, when he’d made enough money, he went off to school to have something to fall back on if the ranch didn’t make it, and John took over the responsibilities while he was away. John may have devoted his life to God, but he knew cattle ranching almost as well as Marshal did.

Marshal came home as often as he could over the four years it took to earn his degree. Ben was five when Marshal came home permanently and started putting his education to work. Now his oldest uncle was thirty-four and filthy rich from good investments and land deals. He still spread himself thin, but unlike most people, Marshal seemed to thrive on it. As for his reaction a moment ago to John, Marshal had a deep mistrust of women because of an incident that happened a few years ago.

The woman who caused him so much resentment was gone, but because of her, he didn’t trust women very much. It was too bad, because Ben was sure there were times that Marshal was lonely and he worked long hours because of that. It wasn’t as if he had a shortage of women, but the ones he did date usually couldn’t put two syllables together. Ben made a face as he thought about the latest one. She wasn’t so bad, but she obviously didn’t like kids or know much about them. She looked really nice in a dress, though, and he supposed she was pretty although he didn’t see it himself, but that was probably why his uncle dated her. To him, the women Marshal went out with seemed a little shallow, but Ben realized that it made the relationships simpler because as soon as they became the least bit complicated, Marshal would change women.

It was a shame that not many people knew the real Marshal, who was trying his best to raise him. Marshal had a housekeeper, May, who helped with his upbringing, but he usually turned to Marshal if he needed help with something. His uncle always had time for him, even if he was in the middle of something else. Actually, Ben was twice blessed because John would do the same, but John lived in town near the church and was busy with that and his parishioners most times. Because Marshal mostly worked from home, living with him was definitely the better option.

“Not in front of the boy, Marsh,” said John as Marshal’s menacing expression remained on his face.

“Nice save, John.” He looked down at Ben, who was still grinning. “Hell.”

“Marsh,” John warned.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said sheepishly, remembering where he was while placing his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home. I can swear there without the roof caving in.”

Meanwhile, Martin loaded his family into his Lincoln and turned to his daughter, his face taking on a deadly expression. “Don’t even think of Marshal Davis beyond him being a client of mine. Do you understand?”

Beth hated him. She hated him so much she wanted to scream. It took every inch of her will not to open the door and run away, but she had no place to go. “Yes, father,” she managed to say without a trace of the rage she was feeling. It had taken her years to learn how to hide her true feelings from him, knowing that if she let him see them, he would make her pay.

“You’re lucky that I let you go to college. You should be home with your mother, but for some reason, I let you convince me. If you go against me, child, I’ll pull the plug.”

“Yes, father,” she repeated with practiced obedience, averting her gaze so he couldn’t see the fury in her eyes. It was true she thought Marshal was attractive, but that meant nothing. The man was obviously steeled against any kind of emotion and probably wouldn’t give her the time of day if she begged for it. Not only that, he was much older than she was.

Her father seemed satisfied and turned back around to start the car. She stole a glance over her shoulder at the two men who were engaged in conversation while her father pulled out of the parking lot. She wasn’t sure of Marshal’s age, but she guessed he was in his early thirties. Regardless, her father wouldn’t let her date nor have interests in any man, so she’d probably just see him in church like today from now on.

***

The next day proved her wrong. Marshal was coming out of the hardware store and Beth ran right into him. Literally.

He barely felt it, but she landed flat on her bottom on the pavement with a grunt.

“Watch where you’re—Oh—it’s you,” she said, standing up and dusting herself off, not meeting his eyes. She was embarrassed and angry at the same time—mostly embarrassed that she hadn’t been paying attention and ran into him. His size was rather obvious. She was angry too, though, because she’d actually been thinking about him, which was what distracted her in the first place.

“Marshal,” he stated firmly. “I have a name.” He almost made a move to reach down and help her up, but something stopped him. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, he thought that it would offend her if he were to help her.

She stopped what she was doing and finally did look at him, bristling at his cool response. He didn’t even apologize; even if it had been her fault, she was a lot smaller than he was and he clearly hadn’t felt the impact like she had. “I didn’t forget.”

“Then use it, Beth.”

Her name on his lips made her pause and cast her eyes toward them. Those lips alone made him sinful. They were perfectly formed and undeniably sensual. A man like Marshal probably knew exactly how to use them on a woman. Suddenly, an image of those lips on hers flashed in her mind. After a moment, neither of them had moved and she wondered if he was interested in her.

“See something you like?” he said with a knowing look, cocking a single dark eyebrow.

Her eyes flipped up to his. “You wish,” she said icily, narrowing her eyes and glaring at him. Yes, she did, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“If you’re done memorizing my mouth, honey, could you move? You’re in front of my truck,” he said with clear amusement.

Beth looked over her shoulder and saw that she was directly in his path. “Oh God,” she said as she turned and stormed down the sidewalk, clearly embarrassed. So much for him being interested, she was just standing in his way! And to top it all off, he’d caught her staring at him—something she’d never have been found guilty of in the past. That man was really nice to look at—maybe too nice—and he knew it. Who could fault him? Even in jeans and a red and black plaid shirt, he was unequivocally masculine to the core.

Behind her, Marshal smirked, tipped his Stetson up on his head and watching her determined pace. He got a good view of her bottom in blue jeans. Not bad, he thought, not bad at all. Shaking his head, he tossed his supplies in the bed of the truck and got in. He had too much on his mind to pause for a pretty girl. She is pretty, though, he thought as he drove past her. He chuckled as she purposely averted her gaze, pretending to find something in a shop window more interesting than him.

Even though he was completely unapproachable most times, Marshal never had a problem getting women. Nevertheless, he’d never had a woman treat him with such indifference before, despite her obvious attraction to him.

Pushing the girl from his mind, he began listing the things he had to do today. There was fencing to be mended in the south pasture, Ben needed help with his homework, and he’d been lax on his bookkeeping for the past week.

He had a secretary that usually handled that last bit, but she was on maternity leave right then. Marshal was brilliant in many ways, but crunching numbers frustrated him because it meant he had to sit at a desk. He could do it, but he’d rather not have to. Even with his fancy degree at hand, it had never suited him. It did help him manage his business well, but he wasn’t a desk jockey and never would be. He was rich enough to hire others to do those things for him now rather than needing to waste his own time on it.

Marshal frowned. May had made him put an ad for a replacement in the paper the day before because she told him that his mood had gone from intolerable to downright excruciating and he’d be eating a cold supper until he did it, so he’d reluctantly agreed. She knew exactly how to bend him to her will: through his stomach.

He gritted his teeth, hating the task of choosing a replacement. Marshal didn’t trust many people, so his new secretary had to be carefully screened—and hopefully married. That way, he wouldn’t find her in his bed like he had with the one before last. He’d come home late and there she was. She left in tears when he’d fired her none too gently on the spot. The next woman he hired was married and not too easy on the eyes, but she proved very efficient and he liked her.

It wasn’t that Marshal didn’t like women. He did. He just preferred to be the pursuer if he saw something he liked; he was old-fashioned that way. Of course, he liked aggressive women in the bedroom, but not ones who assumed that because they were pretty or sexually appealing, they had a right to climb into his bed without his say-so, thinking he’d want them.

As far as he was concerned, he still paid for dates and opened doors for women, and if he wanted to have sex with them, it was his decision. He also didn’t like public displays of affection and if a woman got clingy, that would be the last time he went out with her.

That thought made him wonder about Beth because she didn’t seem like the clingy type. Generally, he would have helped her up off the sidewalk, but his instincts told him not to touch her. It was something her persona gave off. The funny thing was that she wasn’t offended by him not helping her—instead, she was offended that he’d caught her staring at his mouth.

Her eyes were incredible and held a sharp intelligence, even as fiery as they were. He admired intelligent women, but he didn’t date them very often because he’d never let them get close emotionally. He didn’t want to because as soon as an intelligent woman had him caring about her, she’d rip his heart out. It had happened to him once, and he’d never forget it. He’d made a promise to himself to never let that happen again. It had taken him some time to become wise to the subtle tricks, the false tears, the cooing, and the manipulation using their feminine talents, but he hadn’t fallen for it again—and he never would.

If Beth’s temper matched her passion, she would be a treat in bed—whether she was smart or not. She certainly had a great ass, so the rest of her was probably just as nice.

Marshal looked up at the visor, where he’d stuck Martin Winters’ card. He could probably use another lawyer. The one he had was getting close to retirement. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to break in another one and give the newcomer a good start in his new town. He’d have him checked out first to make sure he was honest, though. Just because the man went to church didn’t mean he was a straight shooter.

***

A short time later, Beth arrived home to find that her father had already started drinking. Her mother met her at the door. “Don’t say anything to set him off, honey,” she said quietly.

“Like hello,” Beth offered with sarcasm.

“Please,” her mother begged. “Beth, we’re trying to start over.”

“If he quit being such a bastard, we could,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Beth!” came her father’s bellow from the living room. “Come here.”

“Listen to me, Beth. I don’t want you to get hurt,” her mother pleaded. “Please don’t provoke him.”

“Mama, nothing could hurt me anymore.” She stripped off her coat and followed the sound of her father’s voice. He was sitting in a leather chair, watching the news on a large, flat-screen plasma TV. “Hi,” she said, steeling herself and plastering a false smile on her face.

“Have you seen the paper?” he asked, not looking up from it.

“No, Dad, I don’t read the paper often,” she said in a sickly-sweet voice, trying to hide her sarcasm. Regardless, he still caught it.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he said, casting her a warning glare while standing up and leafing through the pages. “That man that you met last Sunday at church, Marshal Davis, has an ad in here for a secretary. I want you to apply.”

“Dad!” she said in exasperation. “Didn’t you tell me to stay away from him?” She could usually anticipate his violence and move in time to protect herself, but his backhand was too quick and knocked her to the floor.

“You little tramp! I ask you to do something and you do it!” He stood above her, pointing a finger down at face.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying, it only exacerbated his behavior.

“I need this account. Just having his name attached to mine will give me all the business I need. Now I want you to go apply for this job. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Beth said, holding her stinging cheek and glaring up at him. She looked past him as her mother appeared in the doorway and subtly shook her head. More than once, she’d put herself in front of Beth to protect her and took the brunt of her father’s temper because of it. He was always violent, but when he drank, things were worse. Her mother glanced at her father’s back before she silently backed away from the living room.

Her father shook out the paper to straighten the spine and sat down in his chair as if nothing happened. Beth knew that the violent impulse had passed and he would leave her alone now. She picked herself up off the floor and left the room without a word. Her mother was waiting in the hall, wringing her hands.

“Are you all right?” she said with concern.

“I’m fine,” Beth answered, giving her mother a false smile. “I just wish he would go away and never come back.”

Her mother reached up and touched the reddened area on her daughter’s cheek. “That might leave a bruise. Let’s get some ice on it.”

Beth nodded and allowed her mother to lead her to the kitchen, and letting her guide her to a stool at the breakfast counter. As her mother threw some crushed ice in a Ziploc bag, she asked, “What did he want?”

“He wants me to apply as Marshal Davis’ new secretary.”

Her mother lifted her brows as she handed the bag to Beth. “That rancher we met at church yesterday?”

Beth nodded and hissed as the cold touched her sore cheek.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic look. “I thought your father warned you off him.”

“He did, but when it comes to money, you know Dad,” she sighed. He’d probably sell her and her mother to make a buck. She hated him. However, she’d do what he said because she’d get worse than what she just got if she disobeyed him.

“He seemed a little scary,” her mother offered.

No scarier than what we live with, Beth thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. Her mother had enough to deal with.

***

The next day, Marshal interviewed a dozen women and his mood became fouler as the day wore on. Not one of them had any useful skills, and the ones they did have were openly displayed.

“Quit your snarling, Mr. Davis,” said May, his housekeeper, as she came in with a cup of black coffee for him. “You can’t blame these women. You are a handsome, unmarried, wealthy man.” Her answer was a growl. She straightened herself and stared down at him. “You can wipe that menacing look off your face. You have one left, and if you interview her looking like that, she’ll run for the hills.”

“Send her away. I’ll do the damn books myself!” He cast her a glare that would have sent any of his other employees running for cover. May was unmoved. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

“Quit your bellowing. Ben’s trying to do his homework,” she scolded, unaffected by his temper. “You’ll see every one of these women, Mr. Davis. Besides, this one looks as though she has some skills about her.”

“How the hell do you know that?” he said in irritation, tossing his pen on his desk and leaning back in his high-backed leather chair. “Goddamn women are flouncing through here like it’s a bloody auction house and I’m the only bidder.”

“If you’re done growling and cursing like an old fishmonger, I’ll tell you how I know she’s got skills. She’s the only one that doesn’t have makeup plastered on an inch thick or a dress cut so low that her breasts are popping out of it,” she answered with equal exasperation. Dealing with his ever-changing moods would be the end of her.

Marshal was somewhat curious about that and his voice calmed a little. “All right, then show her in, but this is the last one.” May gave him a mocking bow before she left his study, making him want to throw something at the closed door.

May was right about the next applicant. The woman had on grey slacks and a white blouse, buttoned up to the neck and adorned with a colorful scarf, and she looked very professional. The only odd thing was that it was Beth Winters. “Of all the people to walk through that door, I certainly didn’t expect you,” he said with a sardonic smile.

“I would like a job,” she said, taking a seat across from him and tilting her chin slightly in defiance.

“With me?” He was surprised because she’d practically run away from him the day before. She put up a good cover, but he saw the apprehension in her gaze when he’d teased her about staring at him that day.

“I need to pay for tuition next fall,” she answered.

“Tuition? Your father seems wealthy enough,” he said curiously.

“Are you done with the personal questions?” she asked tersely, setting her purse down and handing him her resume with a crisp gesture. She really didn’t want to be here and was hoping she was caustic enough that he’d throw her out.  Only, it seemed to backfire. He actually seemed to enjoy her sharp retort.

Marshal gave her an expression of amusement, not the least bit bothered by her abrupt behavior. “I suppose.” He took the resume, scanning through it while speaking to her. “Do you type?”

“One hundred and twenty words a minute.”

“Computer knowledge?”

“I took a six-week college course in the city at my father’s request,” she answered.

“Where did you accumulate your skills?” he asked as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He was paying close attention, though, and by the sounds of it, she was the best candidate so far.

“I’ve summer-clerked for my father since I was fourteen.” She didn’t tell him that her father had made her work in his office because he was possessive and didn’t want to let her out of his sight for more than an hour at a time.

“Which brings me to my next question,” he said, tossing the resume on his desk. “How old are you?”

“I already told you how I felt about personal questions,” she cut in tersely.

Marshal sighed impatiently. “Beth, I am chair of the cattleman’s association, which requires me to take trips to Vegas twice a year. Your birth date isn’t on your resume. I need to know if you are old enough to accompany me. You look sixteen,” he lied. Even in the conservative clothes she wore, there was no way the body of a sixteen-year-old was contained within them. She had a tiny waist and the hips and bosom of a woman.

“I’d appreciate it if you called me Miss Winters.”

“You can appreciate it until the cows come home, but I’m calling you by your bloody name, just like you’ll call me Marshal. We don’t need formalities around here. If it makes you feel better, you can call me ‘Boss’ like some of my other employees do, but I’m still calling you Beth,” he stated firmly in a tone that he knew intimidated people. “Now, how old are you?”

Beth lied too. “I’m twenty-one,” she offered straight-faced, refusing to be browbeaten. She was only twenty. Her father was simply vicious and while Marshal intimidated her too, at least he wouldn’t strike her—at least she didn’t think he would. Her eyes ran to his large hands, thinking that if he did, she certainly wouldn’t survive it. When her eyes shifted back up to meet his, she noticed he looked skeptical. “I look young for my age,” she added, but he kept staring at her, most likely trying to find a weakness in her armor. He won’t find it, she thought. It had taken years for her to form that protection. Finally, to her inward relief, he nodded subtly.

“Apparently, because you certainly don’t look twenty-one.” He studied her expression. “How soon can you start?”

“I have the job?” Beth was rather surprised because of the way she’d argued with him and she’d secretly hoped he would turn her down. She didn’t want to spy for her father.

“For now,” he said, standing up and staring down at her. “But keep your opinions to yourself. I get enough backtalk from May. I don’t need two damn females giving me pains.”

“I’ll try as long as you don’t provoke me,” she said, glaring up at him. She saw his mouth twitch as if he was fighting a smile.

“If you need help with anything, just ask May. She’s my housekeeper, but she’s smarter than she lets on. Don’t let her know I told you that—that damn woman will hold a compliment against me until the day I die.”

Beth tried not to smile herself. She could only imagine what May was like if she could hold her own against this man. Beth felt intimidated if he was just staring at her.

She’d met May briefly, but they hadn’t introduced themselves. May just had her sit and wait in the hall with the rest of the applicants. Beth felt seriously overdressed when she looked at what the others were wearing, but it didn’t take long for her to figure out why they were dressed that way. She might be naïve, but she certainly wasn’t stupid. Marshal was a nice-looking man, and single from what she’d heard around town, but she could never act the way these women were acting. What they were here for was pretty clear. Her eyes drifted over their tight skirts, revealing cleavage, and overdone makeup.

She’d thought any man would be flattered by all these women showing him their bodies, but Marshal just seemed even more irritable than he did the other day. She’d even heard him bellowing at May before she went in the room and would have hightailed it out of there if her father wasn’t making her do this. However, when the older woman came out of the room, she smiled as if nothing had happened and asked her to go in. Beth probably would have crawled under the rug if he tore into her like that. In her life, yelling was usually followed by hitting, and she was lucky to get even that much warning. Like yesterday, sometimes it was unexpected.

“I can start right away,” she said, standing as well, but then realizing that she should have remained seated. Somehow, the man seemed even taller now, especially since she had to crane her neck to look up at him. At least when she was sitting down, she could lean back in the chair somewhat. “Your housekeeper told me that your secretary has been gone for a week. I’d rather start right now so I can begin putting things back in order as soon as possible.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, looking down at her. He knew he intimidated her from the way her eyes flickered around the room. She was obviously unable to stare at him for a prolonged period. She acted tough, but she was far from it. He could easily recognize that much about her, although the rest of her reserved demeanor was a mystery. There was something that wasn’t quite right about her, and it intrigued him.

Beth really wished he wouldn’t look at her so much; it completely unnerved her. However, she was an expert on keeping her emotions out of her expression thanks to her father. If she showed any sign of weakness, her father would jump on it like a spider on a fly.

At the same time she turned her head to look around, his eyes guided to the side of her face, seeing some skin discoloration like a faint bruise there. “What happened to your cheek?”

She’d forgotten about the bruise her father gave her the previous day. She had tried to cover it up with makeup, but obviously wasn’t as successful as she’d thought. “I walked into a wall,” she said, meeting his sharp gaze with her best acting face, determined not to let on about what had really happened. She resisted covering the mark with her hand as he stared at it because it would make her look ashamed and that could lead to other questions.

“A wall?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes and studying the mark.

“I’m clumsy,” she continued, hoping he wouldn’t suspect what it was really from.

“I guess after the other day, I’m willing to believe anything,” he said with a mocking smile, remembering that she’d careened into him. If she hadn’t noticed him, she probably hadn’t noticed the wall either.

“Not funny,” she managed. “I was distracted.”

“Yes, you were.” He smirked, remembering those intense emerald eyes fixated on his mouth.

Beth released a frustrated breath, knowing that he was referring to her staring at him. “Where did you want me to work?” she asked, changing the subject. He was close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne and it was masculine and spicy just like everything else about him, causing her heartbeat to lose its regular rhythm.

“The computer is over there.” Marshal nodded to another desk in the far corner of the room. “And that box beside it contains my receipts for the last week.”

“That huge box?” she said in surprise. She expected a shoe box, maybe, but not a box that would hold a small dog.

He managed a chuckle. “I have a large spread, Beth.”

The sound of her name on his lips made her pause. She liked it—maybe liked it too much based on the thrill that went through her body. She swallowed thickly. “I know, but I didn’t think—”

“I also own six feedlots,” he finished with all humor now gone from his voice.

“Feedlots?” She stared at him quizzically.

“You live here and you don’t know what a feedlot is?”

“I—we’re from Chicago,” she answered hesitantly. “My father dealt with land deals and such, but not cattle.”

That just reaffirmed Marshal’s earlier thoughts about a rich man playing with something he knew nothing about. People like that thought that because they had money, they could do anything. He was curious as to why they’d settled in a ranching town. If the lawyer didn’t know anything about cattle, what was he doing here? Marshal gave the man less than a year before his ranch became a liability. “In short, a feedlot is where other cattlemen bring their beef cattle for market. I keep them on my lot so they gain enough weight for slaughter. In exchange for this, I charge a fee per head of cattle.”

“Why don’t they just graze them, there’s plenty of grass out there,” she asked, waving her arm toward the window. He gave her an amused smile as if the answer was obvious.

“They gain weight faster on a feedlot than by grazing. Therefore, they are ready for sale quicker and a rancher makes money faster.” His eyes strayed down to the healthy mounds of her breasts while she was momentarily distracted, then back up to her face before she saw his curious stare. He had to admit that she was put together very nicely.

“Wow.” She walked over to the box and started thumbing through the receipts. “I guess I didn’t realize.” Everything about this man was large. He owned a large spread and several large businesses, he was large himself, and this box was huge! Now it was obvious why her father wanted him as a client.

“As I said before, if you need help, call for May. She manages everything that has to do with the house anyway. I’ll be outside working,” he said, watching her take a seat at the desk and turn on the computer. She didn’t look at him again and he wasn’t sure if she was purposely avoiding it or if she was just getting in the frame of mind to start working through that box.

“All right,” Beth said, not looking up. She could feel his gaze on her and it made her temperature go up several degrees. She was sure of it because she’d started feeling uncomfortably warm. Her heart was already doing odd things in her chest and she knew that if she locked gazes with those penetrating eyes of his, she’d go into cardiac arrest. Then he’d really mock her. She was used to keeping her expression masked for her father, but for Marshal, she needed to build up some immunity.

He must know how he affected women, and she wondered if they dropped at his feet all the time. Then she recalled the women waiting to be interviewed and knew it must’ve been obvious to him, but he didn’t act like their behavior flattered him at all.

Marshal took his cup of coffee and left her while she was intent on her task. Shutting the door behind him as he left the room, he turned around and nearly spilled his coffee as May moved up in front of him. She’d been waiting outside the door to see if he hired Beth Winters. “Christ, woman, you’re like a bloody ghost,” he snapped. The older woman stood there with her hands on her broad hips. She’d had many years to become accustomed to his moods and was rarely affected by them.

“Don’t you take the lord’s name in vain around me,” she scolded. “You hire her?”

“I did,” he said.

“You ask who hit her?” she continued with a firm tone.

“She said she ran into a wall,” he answered.

“Are you sure?” she said skeptically.

“She ran into me the other day, knocking herself flat on her ass, so I have no reason not to believe her until she tells me something different.” He walked past her, but May followed him and kept talking.

“You as well as anyone should know what it’s like. Mr. Davis, you can’t possibly—”

Marshal turned on her with a menacing look, causing her to stop abruptly in mid-sentence. “This will end right now. May, I don’t control everyone’s lives. Quit harassing me, dammit,” he said through clenched teeth. “If the woman won’t tell me the truth, there’s nothing I can do. Hell, maybe she did walk into a wall. We can’t suspect everything.”

“She’s just a little thing,” May said in exasperation.

“I know how damn little she is. Are you done?” he snarled, glowering at her.

“Quite,” she shot back at him with a glare of her own, and then dropped her eyes to the mug he still had clasped in his large hand. “You’d better stop drinking coffee for a while lest someone spits in the pot.” With that, she turned on her heel and stomped off.

She would, too, he thought while looking down at his coffee. Then he shrugged, thinking he’d better enjoy this cup because it was obviously the last one he would have for a while.

***

It was almost ten in the evening when Beth decided she’d finally had enough and turned off the computer. She leaned back against the chair and sighed. She’d called her father earlier to let him know she would be late and why so he wouldn’t show up here to demand she go home. Surprisingly, he seemed enthusiastic that she’d got the job and told her to take her time. She had to admit that being there was much nicer than being at home. She glanced over the system she’d created for Marshal’s receipts. Her father was right about one thing: the man was disgustingly rich.

Her father had money too—not like this, but it made living comfortable. He just always wanted more. Men like that were greedy, and she was sure that Marshal was no different. Although Marshal’s income was far beyond what her father could ever hope for if this box represented just a mere fraction of the total, he still acted as if he was just a plain ordinary cowboy—with a temper to match. Only his demeanor and confidence gave away the authority that he wielded. It was odd how she seemed to be thinking about this man constantly now when she’d only met him a few days before.

The door opened and in came May with a glass of ice tea. “Here, dear, no use you being a slave unless you get some payment.”

“Thank you,” Beth said, taking the glass. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until she took the first sip, and then she’d downed the glass before she realized it. “Gosh, that was good.”

“You’ve been in here for six hours without so much as a break.”

“That long?” Time flies, she thought. It certainly hadn’t seemed like six hours. However, she’d finally started to make some headway. The man just piled all of his receipts in one box without separating one business from another. She’d spent six hours separating and chronologically arranging them so she could put them in the computer first thing tomorrow. She recalled how Marshal had some sort of finance degree and smiled to herself. He certainly didn’t act like it.

“You’re a workaholic like Mr. Davis,” May said with a grim smile.

“I am, no doubt,” Beth answered. She’d heard some rumors that the man could outwork any of his men and after meeting him, she didn’t doubt it. He had the build of a man who knew hard work. She knew he probably did it for pride’s sake, but with her, it was different. She was like this with any job she took so she wouldn’t have to go home.

“It’s not good for a woman to be that way.” May clucked her tongue.

“Well, it helps me,” she said without elaboration as she finished the glass of tea and got up. “I’ve got to get home, but I need to use the washroom before I go.”

“I never even thought to show you around the house. Silly me, I will remedy that first thing tomorrow, but for now, there’s a bathroom outside the door and down the hall to the left. We have one next to the front door, but we’re having some plumbing problems with that one. So just go help yourself to the other,” May said genuinely and watched her for a moment. She wondered what Beth meant by that statement. How could it help someone so young working like that? She was already curious about the younger woman. She was so reserved for someone her age and dressed like a woman who was desperately trying to downplay her figure. Her demeanor seemed to be of someone much older too, and if May didn’t know better, she’d think the girl was no older than eighteen even though she acted as if she’d lived a lifetime.

“Thanks again.” Beth shouldered her purse and made her way down the hall. The house was quite impressive, to say the least. On the outside, it was a sprawling, ranch-style brick house and the cattleman theme carried on inside, but with modern masculine influences. She really liked it. Then she saw the bathroom—it was bigger than her room.

She washed and dried her hands when she was finished and stopped to look at her reflection. “What are you doing, Beth? You should get the heck out of this,” she said out loud to herself. She didn’t want to be part of her father’s schemes and started silently cursing him as she shouldered her purse again and opened the door.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes were drawn to the partially open door across the hall. Not necessarily to the room itself, but probably to the half-naked male body within it.

Her jaw dropped.

Never in her life had she seen a man up close in such good shape. Taut, tanned flesh over rippling, sinewy muscle appeared as Marshal removed his shirt and Beth was riveted by the view. Her eyes dropped to his flat washboard abs and the sprinkling of hair that disappeared into the belt line of his jeans. Then he began to don another shirt and she watched the muscles in his arms flex and bulge.

Oh God, a man shouldn’t look like that, it’s just not fair, she thought to herself. As she watched him, she realized that he seemed oddly gentle. Everything about that man screamed the opposite, but looking at him now, she couldn’t help but wonder how tender he would be if those strong hands touched her, caressed her.

As if hearing her thoughts, Marshal abruptly brought his head up, pausing at doing up his buttons as their eyes met. Beth stifled a gasp, but couldn’t stop her blush, especially when a slow, sensual smile slid across his handsome face. She quickly averted her gaze and rushed back down the hall, swearing she heard a deep, throaty chuckle follow her.

“Do you have a ride?” May asked as she handed Beth her coat, then she noticed the look of embarrassment on the young woman’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Beth forced a smile. “And I brought my car.” It was a piece of junk, to say the least, but it got her from point A to point B. With her father’s wealth, she wished he’d give her something flashy to drive, but he made a point of letting her know that she needed to earn everything from him.

May gave her a look that said she didn’t believe her, but she bid her goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss.”

“You can call me Beth,” she offered, remembering what her new boss had told her about formalities. However, she realized the housekeeper still used them based on what she said next.

“I’m May, Mr. Davis’s housekeeper. I have been since the senior Mr. Davis was alive ten years ago.”

Still embarrassed from being caught looking at Marshal with raw awe on her face, Beth wanted to get out of there before he appeared. She said a quick “nice to meet you” to May as she turned to leave. She would have asked May why she called him Mr. Davis when he insisted that she call him Marshal, but she was still reeling from getting caught staring—again.

“Don’t let him bother you, honey, his bark is worse than his bite—most times.” May smiled.

“I’ve got to go. Can you please tell Mar—er—Mr. Davis that I’ll be back first thing tomorrow?” Beth said, suddenly unsure about what to call him. She rushed out the door before anything else could come out of her mouth. If the woman only knew what had just happened. It didn’t surprise her that the man wasn’t the least bit caught off guard at her gaping at him. He was so beautiful—she was sure women gaped at him even fully clothed.

“I will,” May answered, waving as the young lady left. Marshal came down the hall a few seconds later. May turned to him, saying, “I thought you were out on the range?”

“Apparently, you weren’t the only one,” he said with amusement.

“Now what does that mean?” She flashed him a suspicious look. “Could that have something to do with that young lady flying out of here?” She shot her thumb over her shoulder toward the door.

“It might,” he said, plunking his Stetson on his head.

“You behave yourself, Mr. Davis,” she scolded, waggling her finger at him.

“As best I can,” he said with a chuckle as he left the house, ignoring May’s gesture.

May knew how intimidating the man could be, and although little Beth Winters tried to act tough, she was extremely vulnerable. It was as easy to see as the day was light.

  

Chapter Two

 

Beth chastised herself all the way home for being so bold and staring at him like that. Just thinking about it made her cheeks heat up again, and to top it all off, she had to go back tomorrow to face him. Knowing him and his arrogance, he’d most likely throw it in her face that she’d been standing outside his door and ogling him.

And she definitely was ogling him.

Images of his body flashed in her mind and she cringed in disbelief that she’d actually gawked at him like a little school girl. Unfortunately, if she went to her father, she knew he would refuse her request to quit and most likely yell at her over it—or much worse. She would much rather face Marshal Davis than her father any day. She even tried to make up excuses about why she’d been looking at him so she’d have one if he asked, but it had been too darn obvious. Oh, she could just die!

To her complete relief, Marshal’s nephew, Ben, met her at the door the next day.

“You don’t need to knock,” he told her. “You work here, and my uncle doesn’t lock the door.”

“Ever?” she said in disbelief, stepping inside the house.

“No,” he answered, giving her a smile that seemed wise beyond his years.

Beth realized that the boy had inherited his uncle’s good looks without the cynicism. She liked him instantly. “Why not? Isn’t he worried about intruders?”

“Have you not seen my uncle?” Ben said with amusement, raising one brow.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Good point.” Marshal was a big man, and after what she’d seen the day before, she knew he was solid muscle. Her eyes went over the young man who was only a few inches shorter than she was. “Apparently, height is in your future too.”

“I hope so,” he said. “Next to my uncles, I feel short.”

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

This time, Beth laughed. “I think you don’t have a worry in that field.” She spared him another smile and walked toward the double doors of the study.

“Thanks,” he said behind her, grinning.

Beth could tell that the boy would be just as handsome as his uncles were with his dark looks. He even quirked a single eyebrow in the same way Marshal did. Smiling, she shut the door behind her and sat down at the desk to get to work.

She’d worked her way through a quarter of the box when Marshal came in and plunked another one on her desk.

“This too?” she said in astonishment, avoiding his gaze. She started praying that he wouldn’t bring up the previous night—and to her surprise, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even act like he remembered the event at all. Oddly enough, she almost felt disappointed. It meant that women probably stared at him all the time and it wasn’t worth any discussion. But she didn’t gape at anyone! It was completely new to her.

“Yes,” Marshal said with indifference, watching subtle emotions play across her expression. He was wondering if she was remembering last night and the fact that he hadn’t mocked her over it. Even though he’d teased her a few days before when he caught her staring at his mouth, this was something entirely different because it evoked something deep and primal within him. Something he liked. Therefore, there was no way in hell  he was going to tease her over it because he knew if he did, she wouldn’t do it again, and he wanted her to look at him. If she wanted to stare at him, by all means, she could go ahead and stare, but he certainly wasn’t going to embarrass her for it. He couldn’t get the look she’d had on her face out of his mind—it was completely natural and totally uninhibited. He’d never seen a look like that on a woman’s face. Normally there was lust, or at least desire, but Beth’s expression was different—it was more like fascination and he found it completely flattering. He hadn’t felt that about a woman’s attention in a long time.

Last night when he was in bed, he’d wondered what else could give her that expression and all kinds of things started to go through his mind. X-rated things. He had trouble sleeping after that. It served him right for leaving his bedroom door open while he changed his shirt. May couldn’t give two hoots if he stood naked in front of her, except maybe to give him hell for catching a draft and getting sick, but another woman in the house meant some adjustments would have to be made. His last secretary had used the bathroom near the front entrance, but that sink kept backing up and he hadn’t had time to look at it yet—and probably wouldn’t for some time—so he should be more considerate where Beth was concerned. Then again, he’d rather enjoyed that incident, so maybe he wouldn’t fix the other bathroom’s sink for a while yet. Beth’s voice brought him back to the present.

“You don’t need one secretary, you need three.”

“My last secretary could do it,” he responded with a challenging tone.

“She probably got pregnant to get away from it,” Beth grumbled.

Marshal placed his palms on the desk and leaned toward her with a daunting expression on his handsome face. “If you’re having trouble, I can hire someone else.” This finally brought her eyes up to his, but he only saw defiance in those depths—and again, it intrigued him. Most people wouldn’t challenge him. Hell, no one did except maybe his brother and May, but it didn’t mean they ever won.

“I’m not!” she said defensively. “This is just insane.”

“Then quit your whining,” he said, straightening up and staring down at her from his full six-foot-four height.

“Fine, then quit hovering,” she countered, ducking her head again as she began sorting through another stack of papers.

He actually smiled down at her and turned to leave. The woman’s temperament was affecting him, not that he’d let on and not in a way most people would think. She’d begun to fascinate him, which wasn’t easy, but he knew that getting involved would be way too complicated.

There was something about her that set off warning bells in his head, but he didn’t trust many women so that could just be a learned reaction he’d developed. Regardless, when he’d caught her staring at him the day before, he couldn’t help but feel arrogant. He knew how attractive he was to the opposite sex, but for some reason it was different for him when he saw her expression and he actually enjoyed it. The look of awe on her face was completely innocent and couldn’t have been faked, especially with the embarrassment afterward of being caught.

Now Beth wouldn’t even look at him and he felt another wave of satisfaction. What would she do if he started taking his shirt off right then and there? It wasn’t out of character for him to do that if the shirt was covered in dirt and sweat because May would take the broom to him if he came in the house with it on. He chuckled to himself as he walked down the front steps. For some reason, he knew Beth would crawl under the desk and tell him to go away.

***

Several hours later, Beth stood and stretched. She needed some fresh air. Earlier, she’d seen a ranch hand take several horses into the stables and had wondered about them. She’d always thought horses were magnificent and wanted to learn more. She read every book there was on the subject when she was a little girl, hoping that her father would give in and get one for her—but that never happened.

Before she knew it, she was walking across the yard toward the open door of the building. She could smell the distinct odor of horse and hay when she entered, and she found it surprisingly pleasant. Several horses poked their heads out of their stalls and nickered at her. Not able to help herself, she grinned. This was wonderful. What beautiful creatures! She walked up to the nearest one and giggled as the animal pushed its velvet nose into her shoulder.

“She likes you.” Marshal had been talking to Slim, his mechanic, when he saw Beth walk toward the stables. Before he knew it, he was following her into the building. Maybe it was curiosity…or maybe he just couldn’t help himself. She was beautiful and he’d be lying if he tried to deny that he was attracted to her.

The familiar deep voice made her spin around and face him. “I—”

He saw her expression—like a kid being caught with her hand in the cookie jar, much like the expression she’d had last night after he’d caught her looking at him. He raised his hand to ease her fears. “There’s no need to feel like you violated some rule, Beth. Come and see them any time you like.” He stopped and hooked a thumb in a belt loop at the waist of his jeans.

The fact that he looked very relaxed while she was becoming unsettled by his presence just added to her discomfort. “I didn’t think there were rules,” she said sarcastically, turning away from him and placing her palm on the velvety nose. “She’s so soft. What’s her name?”

“Lily Bell, I think.”

She turned and looked at him again. “You think?”

“I have around forty horses. Remembering all the names the staff gives them isn’t easy.” He turned up one corner of his mouth in self-deprecating humor.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” she said. “I guess I have a lot to learn about ranching.”

Marshal fished out a cigarette and bent his head to light it, then took a long draw and focused his eyes back on hers. Beth looked genuinely surprised. “What?”

She looked at the cigarette. “You smoke?”

“Occasionally,” he answered, taking another draw. “When John, Ben, and May aren’t around to nag me about it.”

“It’s bad for you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he answered with a bit of a smirk, causing her to narrow her eyes.

She shook her head and returned her attention to the horse that was nuzzling the pockets of her slacks. “Doesn’t anything bother you?” she heard herself say.

“Not anymore.”

His voice was closer this time and she realized that he’d come up behind her without her hearing anything. For a big man, he sure moved like a stealthy predator. “Anymore?” she said, still not looking at him and trying her best to keep the nervousness out of her voice. “That must be nice,” she added under her breath.

“It comes with age,” he said as he looked down at her, wishing she’d meet his eyes again. She had such large, lovely eyes. They were so green a man could lose himself in them.

“Well then, I have a lot to learn there too,” she said, referring to her youth. That earned her a deep chuckle. She glanced up at him before turning her attention back to the horse.

Marshal’s hand slid in front of her and she looked down to see several green cubes in his large palm. “They’re horse treats. It’s what she’s looking for. Some of my staff carry them in their pockets so they’re handy. That’s why she’s nudging yours.”

Beth looked up, not understanding what he meant, then he nodded toward the horse. “Oh.” She took the cubes out of his hand while avoiding touching him. If she had weak knees just from viewing his upper torso, who knew how she’d react if she actually touched him. She did her best to hold them out for the mare. “They’re that smart?”

“Yes, they can be,” he said, watching her try to hold the cubes without a thought on how to give a horse treats. “No—not unless you want to lose your fingers,” he said, showing her how to flatten her palm by demonstrating with his own. “Put the treats in the middle and tuck your thumb flush with your hand. Horses don’t know how to sort through fingers to get food so they take it all.” He grinned. “Then what good are you to me?”

She felt stupid, but did as he asked and giggled again when the mare’s mouth tickled her palm.

Marshal took another draw off his smoke, thinking of how fragile yet appreciative she looked over the discovery of the horse. He’d practically been born on one and it was hard to fathom being without one.

“You really shouldn’t smoke,” she said again without looking at him. “There’s straw and stuff in here, isn’t there?”

He grinned, taking another long draw. “Yes, and an ashtray,” he said, turning and walking up to a tin can that was nailed to the wall and putting his cigarette in it. “It’s got water in it. I have a lot of staff that smoke.” He turned back toward her and leaned against the wall. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really,” she said honestly. “I was worried about fires.” It horrified her to think of these beautiful creatures dying such a horrible death.

He pointed up before he folded his arms across his thick chest.

Beth looked up and saw a series of pipes and sprinklers. “Oh.”

“I wouldn’t be in here smoking if I wasn’t prepared.”

Of course he wouldn’t, she thought, he’s always prepared. He was perfect. “So you were saying you didn’t know all the names of your horses,” she said, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.

“I know my favorites. My stallion, my buckskin, and the dapple grey stallion down at the end.” He nodded to a tall horse poking its head out to view the proceedings.

“Wow, he’s really pretty. Is that an unusual color?”

“Actually, it is.”

“What breed is he?”

“He’s a thoroughbred mix, which gives him height. The one you’re petting is an endurance mare. She’s half Arabian and half quarter horse. Smart, swift, and cuts cattle perfectly. She’s a good mare for a lady because she’s well trained. Take her out for a ride if you like.” The image he created in his mind of her on a horse nearly made him groan. He could just imagine her gorgeous body bouncing in the saddle with that long auburn hair blowing behind her.

“I don’t know how to ride,” she mumbled, still not meeting his gaze.

“Hell, everyone around here knows how to ride.”

Beth shot him a glare. “Well I’m not from around here.” She stopped petting the horse and made to walk by him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. He remembered afterward that his instincts had warned him not to do that and they’d been right. “No need to be so defensive, little girl. I meant nothing by it. You change moods like the wind.”

“It seems to work for you,” she said sternly as her eyes darted to his hand. “Let go of me.” He instantly released her and she headed outside.

Marshal watched her walk back to the house through the open stable doors. She’d tried to hide it, but he was still able to see the fear in her eyes when he grabbed her. He wasn’t sure before, but he was now. He also hadn’t missed the muscle in her bicep tense and tremble under his grasp. She was afraid of him or afraid of his aggressiveness, which meant she was afraid of another man in her life. Maybe she’d had problems with a previous boyfriend and that’s why her father relocated their family.

He ground his teeth together. He didn’t want to get involved, but he’d known he was from the first day he’d hired her. Marshal liked his life the way it was, but this girl had started to get under his skin. Now he was even more intrigued.

He’d had enough of complications in his childhood and raising Ben was the only highlight he’d ever had in his life. Now he was attracted to this girl. It wasn’t just a simple crush, either. He wanted her—badly. Maybe it was because she was beautiful, defiant, and intelligent, or maybe it was because he’d never met anyone like her.

Marshal swore under his breath and went to saddle his buckskin. Maybe if he spent his days out on the range and in the hills, he could avoid her and his attraction for her.

***

Beth was almost in tears when she made her way back inside the house and into the study. She’d nearly let go when he grabbed her and he almost saw her vulnerability. The man wasn’t stupid—far from it. She could see the intelligence in his eyes and knew not much got by him. She really wanted to quit before he figured out what was going on in her life, but her father would kill her. He wanted the Davis account more than he wanted to keep her from a man, and Marshal was definitely all man. In all, she felt completely trapped.

If this was a different life, she could make her interest in him known, and who knew, maybe something would grow out of it. However, she was afraid that if she did and her father’s intentions were revealed, it would seem like she’d enticed him. Beth didn’t want to be part of that betrayal.

She plopped in the chair in front of the computer and buried herself in her work. May came in later carrying a tray with a bowl of soup, a sandwich, and some tea, giving her a disapproving look.

“Young lady, life is going to pass you by if you work so hard. You need to make time to play in your life.”

“I can’t,” Beth replied without looking up. “Every time I ease off, that man brings me another huge box.” She pointed at the one he must’ve left on her desk right before she’d run into him at the stables. “I don’t know how the last woman did it.”

May smiled down at her. “She learned to manage and by the looks of things, you’re gaining on him.”

She sighed and looked up. “How long have you worked here?”

“Twenty-five years,” May said, smiling as Beth’s eyes widened and she mouthed the word ‘wow’. “It’s not so hard to believe. Mr. Davis is an excellent employer.”

Beth made a sound of disbelief.

“Don’t be so skeptical. He’s not as hard-boiled as most people think,” the housekeeper mused, studying the younger woman. “The last time he hired someone for the ranch, not including secretaries, was more than five years ago. They work for him because he’s honest and wouldn’t ask them to do anything that he wouldn’t do himself.”

“Yeah, right,” she mumbled and ducked her head to bury herself back in her work. “Like he’d attack this box of paperwork with zeal.”

May looked down at her, thinking that she was far too young to act so embittered. She was dead right, though—Marshal hated paperwork despite his hard-earned degree.

Several hours later, Beth finally got up from the desk. Her back and bottom hurt from sitting so long. Placing her hands on her hips, she stretched her back and packed up her purse while glancing at her watch.

Another late night—it was 10 pm again. These long days seemed to zoom by. She really didn’t care as long as she wasn’t at home.

Beth left the house quietly, hoping not to wake anyone or, most importantly, run into Marshal. She hadn’t spoken to him since the confrontation in the stables earlier that day, but she had seen him ride out on the back of a large horse after she’d gone back to the study.

She’d actually stood up and watched him until he rode out of view. He was magnificent, to say the least. All of that power in horse and man was appealing. She’d never realized how attractive it was until she saw it herself. Or was it just him? That horse looked blond. Maybe that’s what he called a buckskin.

Beth got in her car and turned the key, but nothing happened. “Oh, for crying out loud. Not now.” She turned the key again and it made a small click. Laying her head on the steering wheel, she thought, it figures.

She didn’t live too far from there, so she’d walk home. What would be the big deal there? Only she’d never walked at night in the middle of the wilderness before. Well, this might not be a complete wilderness, but she came from a big city and it seemed that way to her.

Grabbing her purse, she started down the driveway. The sun had set several hours ago and she only had a sliver of moon to navigate by. It was only about a mile and a half, though. It shouldn’t take too long. Would it?

About half an hour later, she finally acknowledged her mistake. As soon as she’d left the lights of the ranch, everything was dark. She should have just asked May if she could give her a ride home instead of being so stubborn. Then she saw a pair of headlights come around an unseen corner and head toward her. She wondered if it was her father, but as the vehicle got closer, she realized it was a ranch truck. Good, she thought, I’ll flag him down for a ride home. However, when the truck pulled up alongside her and the window rolled down, she saw that Marshal was behind the wheel.

“Why are you walking?” He was surprised to find a city girl walking a country road in the middle of the night.

“My car died,” she admitted with embarrassment. Her father had loads of money, but she drove a junker. He didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment, though, and spoke to her like it was no big deal.

“Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”

“I’ll walk,” she insisted.

“Beth, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite.”

“That remains to be seen.” She shot him a look and kept walking.

Marshal shifted the truck into reverse and began backing up alongside her. “Honey, get in. Just put your pride on the back step for once. I’ll take you home. I won’t touch you again, I promise,” he added softly.

Beth stopped walking and looked at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” After a few seconds, she realized he did know what he was talking about. He knew that grabbing her arm had frightened her, even though she was always so careful about hiding her reactions. The tender look she could see on his face in the faint light from the dashboard changed her mind. He really hadn’t meant to scare her. Up until that moment, she’d thought men got off on doing it.

“Maybe, but get in.” He shifted the truck into park, reached over, and opened the passenger door. “Come on. There’s too much wildlife out at this time of night to walk safely, even if it’s only a mile down the road.”

“Wildlife?” She glanced around, not feeling so confident or stubborn after he said that.

“Loads,” he answered, unable to keep his grin to himself. “And they’ll eat you despite that crust on the outside because you’re still soft and pink in the middle.”

She focused on him again. “You’re teasing me.”

“Not entirely. There’s moose, elk, coyote, and some bear, but they usually stay in more remote areas. There’s still a chance, though.”

Hesitating a little, Beth finally nodded. “Just this once, then.” She walked around and got in the truck.

Marshal easily turned the big dually crew cab around in the middle of the road. “Good thing I came along,” he said as he shifted the truck into drive and started back down the road.

Beth didn’t respond, settling for folding her hands on her lap and focusing through the windshield at the road illuminated by the truck headlights.

“This man that hit you, is he still in your life?”

She swung her head toward him. “You don’t know anything.”

“Don’t I?” He flicked her a glance. “I lived with it for ten years so it’s not hard for me to spot when someone else gets beat.”

Her eyes coasted over his muscular form before coming back up to his, knowing he’d get her point. “I don’t believe you.”

“Until I grew bigger than he was,” he added with another glance in her direction. “He was my father.”

“Oh,” she said softly, trying not to give anything away in her voice or expression.

“The last time, he came at me with a baseball bat.”

Beth quickly turned her head away so he couldn’t see the vulnerability on her face, but he continued.

“I took the bat from him and laid him out flat.”

“What about your brother?” she asked softly, still not looking at him.

“I came home too late to help with that. He’d already broken his arm.” Her sharp intake of breath let him know that upset her. “Yeah, that’s how I felt.”

“Is that why he’s a priest?”

Marshal shook his head. “He said he always had that calling.”

“Where does Ben fit in?” she found herself asking. Beth wasn’t one to pry into someone else’s personal life because she hated it when people did to her, but finding out that someone else understood her dilemma seemed to make it a little easier.

“Ben’s mine, as far as I’m concerned. My sister left him with me when he was a baby.”

“Your sister?”

“She’s the oldest. We don’t know where she is.” He flicked her another glance. “She’s got—problems.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No need. Ben has everything he needs.” Marshal pulled up in front of her house. “I take it this is yours.” He ducked to look out the passenger window toward the house. There were no lights on except the porch light. “Looks like everyone’s in bed.”

“Yeah,” she said, following his gaze. Thank God. She wanted to ask more about his sister, but decided against it. It wasn’t her business.

“She’s still alive,” he said, looking at her. “I know you’re curious.”

She nodded.

“We have an account set up for her. When the money is spent, we know she’s alive. She’s not ready to come home yet.”

“How’s Ben feel about it?”

“Angry and neglected, but he knows we love him.”

That admission made her breathe deep with emotion. He really meant it. How she wished her father would say that to her some day. “He’s a good child,” Beth agreed. “Anyone can see you did a good job with him.”

“Ben makes it easy.” His eyes drifted down her front. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beth.”

She felt her cheeks pink up. Every time he looked at her like that and spoke her name in that husky voice, she felt it viscerally. She went to open the door to get out when he stopped her by saying her name.

“Beth.”

She looked at him, hearing sincerity in his voice, not sympathy. Something she was completely unused to from a man—or from anyone for that matter, except for her mother.

“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty tomorrow, and then I’ll see what’s wrong with your car.”

“That’s really not necessary,” she said, trying to keep the shakiness she felt at his tenderness out of her voice.

“You aren’t too defensive to take help from a neighbor, are you?”

It sounded harmless when he said it that way. She actually managed a bit of a smile. “I guess not.”

“Until tomorrow, then.” He nodded and she got out without another word.

Marshal watched her go into the house. Maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself as he shifted the truck into drive and pulled away. She wouldn’t tell him anything about herself when he asked, but maybe telling her a little about himself would get her to open up more. She was locked up tighter than anyone he’d ever met. It made sense why her father was so protective of her if a boyfriend used to pound the crap out of her.

Beth washed up and went to bed. She locked her door just as she did every night; even though her parents were in bed, it still made her feel safer. After she crawled into bed, she tried reading a book to get her mind off her new boss, but it didn’t work. The fact that he could relate to her made her see him in a different light altogether. He always seemed to be a man in total control of himself, but to hear that he’d been beaten as a child somehow dropped that wall of hers a bit toward him. He didn’t tell her that to elicit sympathy, either; he’d told her that to let her know he understood.

It gave her hope because if he could turn out the way he had, so self-assured and confident, maybe she had a chance too. Then there was the fact that he didn’t say anything about the other night to her. She’d really expected him to rub it in her face that she’d been gawking at him. All of this led her to the conclusion that he might be arrogant, but he wasn’t cruel. That revelation helped her drift off to a restless sleep.

***

The next morning, she got out of bed early and showered. She normally didn’t take so much time to look after herself, and she realized her new boss had something to do with it. Yet Beth couldn’t shake the warning in the back of her mind about getting involved with him, not that he’d even indicated anything along that route, but she decided that she wouldn’t reject him if he was interested in her. Actually, she doubted she could deny him anything for she was fascinated with everything about the man.

It was a cool morning so she donned a white sweater, black slacks, and a colorful scarf to keep out the chill before she pulled her black wool jacket on over top. When the familiar ranch truck pulled up in front of the house, she had to restrain herself from running out the front door to meet him. She silently chastised herself over her eagerness as she locked the door behind her, trying to remain completely nonchalant on the surface.

To her complete surprise, Marshal had gotten out of the truck and opened her door for her.

“Hi,” she said as she approached. A smile actually touched her lips as she took in the sight of him. He was wearing a sheepskin-lined denim jacket with a black and brown plaid shirt visible where it hung open, a black Stetson, and blue jeans that seemed to be snug in all the right places.

“Good morning,” he answered in a steady tone, studying her expression. “I wondered what it would be like if you gave me a smile.”

She gave him a puzzled expression. “Really?”

“Get in,” he said, nodding at the truck.

Beth obeyed and got in the truck while he walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and pulled away. It took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t heading toward the ranch. “Where are we going?”

“I need coffee.” He cast her a glance. “You?”

“Coffee? I don’t drink coffee, but I wouldn’t mind tea.”

“Good,” he said, pulling onto the highway toward town.

“Doesn’t May make you coffee in the morning? She seems highly efficient.”

“Not this week. I pissed her off,” he said with a bit of an edge to his voice.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said mischievously.

He cast her a sideways glance of amusement. “You mind yourself or I’ll make you walk.”

“Such threats,” she mumbled, watching the road.

“Be careful, little girl—someone might think you have a sense of humor.”

“That goes both ways.” He shrugged, not saying anything else, but she did see evidence of a small smile on his face.

Soon he was pulling up to the coffee shop in town. “Come on in. I’m not your patsy, you can carry your own drink.”

It may have been said tersely, but she realized it wasn’t meant that way. “Don’t do me any favors,” she shot back, causing him to chuckle while she got out of the truck.

As they entered the shop, she noticed that several people were staring at her and then at Marshal, who, as usual, either didn’t notice or didn’t care that people were staring as he placed their order. The place was packed with more people than she swore lived in town and she felt like all of them were watching her.

“Beth, did you want a muffin?”

She turned her head toward him. “Depends on what they have,” she said softly, not missing a few more looks their way. Marshal’s use of her first name in public seemed oddly intimate and she wondered if he normally did that with people who worked for him. After all, May still called him Mr. Davis.

“Well then, come and see what you want,” he responded, holding out his arm.

Without thinking about it, she stepped up beside him and he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the crowd. That gesture made her insides warm up. It was completely opposite of what his touch had made her feel the day before. She liked it—a lot. Especially standing so close to him as he stepped behind her because it made her feel oddly protected. Safe.

She could feel the heat from his large body on her back and thought her clothing brushed his once or twice. Suddenly, the voices in the coffee shop seemed hushed as her thoughts drifted and it seemed for a moment that the two of them were alone. She felt an incredible urge to step back against him and feel his hard chest against her back—to feel that large body envelope her and hide her from her hell.

There wasn’t another time in her life she could say that she’d actually felt that way. She’d always been alone and afraid, covering it up with defensiveness. Her father was abusive and her mother was submissive to him. Beth never confided in her friends because they wouldn’t understand, and because of the way her family behaved, she couldn’t bring any of her friends home to meet her parents either. It made it hard to have close, personal friendships. Not only that, her father never really gave her much breathing room. He liked control. It wasn’t until she went to work for Marshal that he relinquished it a bit.

She’d never have that type of freedom.

An unexpected wave of sadness hit her at that realization. “Excuse me,” she said in a barely audible whisper as she turned and made her way back through the crowd to go outside. She needed to get out of there and get some fresh air. She also needed to get away from him. It was too hard to be near him. He couldn’t possibly understand the depth of what was going on inside her, all caused by a small gesture from him.

“Beth?”

She heard him call her name, but ignored it as she pushed through the doors of the shop and nearly ran into a man coming in. “Sorry,” she managed before she started down the sidewalk toward home. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Beth!”

Now his voice was right behind her and before she had a chance to escape, he’d grabbed her and spun her around.

“Let me go.”

“What the hell got into you?” He eyed her tear-stained face. “You’re crying?” Now that was completely unexpected. She usually displayed some sort of defense mechanism—yet here she was, openly weeping.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” she said in complete vulnerability.

“Like hell I won’t,” he stated softly and embraced her. “Honey, you were meant to be touched. It’s too bad you don’t know that.”

Her fingers clenched the lapels of his jacket as she buried her face in his chest. Despite feeling overwhelmed at his show of tenderness, she couldn’t ignore how good he smelled. It comforted every inch of her. She wasn’t used to it. “I’m sure we’re causing a scene,” she said in a muffled voice.

“I don’t give a shit.”

She felt herself smile in spite of her sorrow. Of course he didn’t. Seconds stretched into minutes and she still didn’t want to let him go, and he didn’t indicate that he was going to until she reluctantly pulled from his grasp.

Clasping her head between his hands, he tilted her face up toward his. “Do you feel better?” he asked, searching her eyes with his intent gaze. This had caught him totally off guard. He knew she was defensive for a reason and her open vulnerability pulled at his heart.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t know what got into me,” she said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and feeling more foolish by the minute.

His eyes studied hers for a moment. “I think you do. However, I’m not one to push, so if you’re feeling better we can go home. Obviously, I’m not getting coffee,” he added mockingly.

“It’s not good for you anyway,” she shot back, causing him to give her a rare grin. “I read somewhere that it causes digestion problems and the caffeine leaches calcium from your bones, not to mention it’s addictive.” She could have kissed him over the teasing play because she was sure he did it purposely to distract her. More and more, she knew she was in danger of seriously falling for him.

“Is that right?” he asked in a tone that was obviously humoring her.

“It is,” she said, catching his look. “You should know better, addiction is sinful.”

He released a chuckle. “I sure as hell hope you don’t start crying every time I feel like sampling one of my sins because I got loads and you’ll dry up into nothing.” That earned him a laugh.

“No doubt.”

He sighed heavily. “Well, I guess I don’t get coffee in town or at home,” he said, leading her back toward the truck.

“Maybe you should apologize to May.”

“Bite your tongue!” he said, opening the door for her. “If I apologize to that woman, she’ll use it against me until the day I die.”

“At least you’ll have coffee,” she replied as she climbed in.

“I can live without coffee to save my pride.” His eyes glinted as he shut the door.

Before long, they were pulling up in front of his house. Marshal cut the engine and, much to Beth’s relief, didn’t mention another thing about her crying episode. He just got out of the truck after wishing her a good day. She hoped he wouldn’t mention anything about it in the future, to her or anyone else.

Now that she had time to reflect on how she’d acted, it was more and more humiliating. She’d never had a moment of weakness like that, especially in public. She kept all of her vulnerabilities deeply hidden and this set her back on her heels. Who knew such a simple gesture would touch something so deep inside her? Regardless, she discovered something from him over these past few days. Marshal didn’t pry—ever. He’d let that incident and the one where she gawked at him go without saying another word. She’d never met anyone like him before in her life.

The day seemed to zoom by and she felt some relief that she’d finally caught up on entering his receipts in the computer. Grinning, she settled back in her chair and half-humorously gave herself a pat on the shoulder. However, her relief was short lived because the door opened and in came Marshal with another box.

Beth groaned. “My God, did anyone ever tell you that you are way too busy?”

He chuckled and plunked the box on her desk. “I don’t pay people to complain.”

“You don’t pay me to shut up either because you couldn’t afford it,” she snapped.

He was on his way back out of the room when she said that. He liked the rapport they’d developed between one another over the past few days and he found himself liking her more and more. Turning back around, he locked eyes with her. “Do you want to get out of here for a bit before you chew into that box?”

“It depends.” Beth eyed him carefully. “What do you have in mind?”

“How about a riding lesson?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m in!” She jumped up from her chair. “What do I need?”

“Just yourself,” he said with a smile. “Come on.” Marshal held out his hand. She stopped and looked at it.

“I told you I don’t bite.” He nodded. “Come on, honey.”

“I might, though,” she said, meeting his gaze and trying to break her nervousness by teasing him.

“Good to know,” he said without batting an eyelash as she took his hand.

“Nothing fazes you,” she added with a smile.

“Yeah,” he replied in a more serious tone as he looked down at her. “Some things do.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, resisting a blush.

They’d just got outside when a little red convertible drove up and a pretty, voluptuous blond got out and waved. Marshal dropped Beth’s hand as if she’d burned him as the woman made their way over to them. That little bit of kindness that she’d just witnessed from Marshal was completely shut down and eliminated. The woman turned out to be Cindy Parson and her father and Marshal owned several feedlots together, he told Beth as he introduced them.

Cindy had no problem looking down her nose at the other woman and Beth noticed that she had a talent for not letting Marshal see she was doing it. “You’re a secretary? Why, I heard your family was well off.”

Beth lifted her chin and matched the woman’s condescending stare. “Well, I don’t mind getting my nails dirty to earn my keep,” she said sweetly, glancing at the woman’s well-manicured hands. Although she sounded pleasant, her eyes probably betrayed her inner anger. However, neither Marshal nor Cindy seemed to notice.

Cindy shrugged her shoulder as if Beth’s response was unimportant before she turned her attention to Marshal and gave him a welcoming smile while batting her false lashes. “I came to see if you’re still going to take me to the dance this weekend, Marsh—I bought a new dress just for you.”

“Did you?” he said, looking at Beth with amusement in his light brown gaze as she resisted rolling her own eyes behind Cindy’s back. He flicked his eyes back to his guest.

“Oh yes, and I hope you buy me something nice to decorate it with,” she cooed.

Beth nearly gagged. “I need to get back to work,” she mumbled, turning away and going back inside the house. So much for my riding lesson, she thought, trying to hide her disappointment. It really wasn’t about the riding lesson as much as having Marshal to herself for those few precious moments. She ground her teeth and made her way back to her desk, not wanting to make a fool out of herself on a horse with that woman watching her.

About four hours later, she finished cataloguing the last receipts out of the latest box with a sigh of triumph. She stood up to stretch her legs, then glanced at her watch and the open door of the study. He hadn’t come back and she wondered if he’d left with Cindy. She’d heard a vehicle start up and drive away several hours ago.

How a man like Marshal could be interested in such a socialite, she’d never know. He was a rugged and raw male that was comfortable with himself and the way he was. So where did this woman fit in? She was sure that very little about her was real—even her hair looked dyed. She was pretty, though, and Beth wouldn’t dispute that even if she was ninety-nine percent bought and paid for.

Gritting her teeth, she chastised herself for thinking so callously. She certainly wouldn’t want people thinking such horrible things about her. Not only that, she really didn’t know Cindy and it was selfish of her to assume the other woman’s world was perfect. Beth’s father made theirs look that way and it was far from it. Sighing, she made a silent promise to try to be nice to the woman despite her feelings of jealousy. Jealousy? Oh, it definitely is jealousy.

Beth glanced at her watch again. It was only five o’clock. Her father would be arriving home and starting to drink again. She didn’t want to go home so soon. This seemed like the first time in her life he didn’t mind that she wasn’t at home, all in the name of making money, and she was going to use it as best she could.

She thought that maybe May could find something for her to do. She found the housekeeper in the kitchen, putting freshly made buns in the oven, and asked her.

“Are you done already?” she said with a smile while closing the oven. “I seen him come in with that box earlier, you catch on quick.”

She felt a wave of pride at the older woman’s compliment. “Yes, I seem to be doing all right, do you need help with anything?”

May cast her a look while sweeping the flour off the counter and into the sink. “I suppose. I wanted to throw a wash in before supper, but I’ve gotten a little busy. If you don’t mind, could you go down to the boys’ rooms and collect it. There’s a laundry basket on the table in the hall.”

“No problem,” Beth replied, feeling happy that she had something to do and didn’t have to go home. She left the kitchen, not seeing May’s concerned look followed by the shake of her head and a sympathetic click of her tongue. It was funny that she called both Ben and Marshal boys, because there was nothing boyish about Marshal at all, but she supposed to May’s sixty-some years, all younger men were boys.

Ben was sitting at a desk in his room, bent over what looked like homework. He looked up and gave her that sloppy Davis grin when she knocked on the door. “Hi!”

“May’s sent me looking for laundry,” she said, peering in. Ben’s room was unusually spotless for a teenager, so much so that he would have made army recruits look sloppy. “Wow, talk about clean!”

He laughed. “I don’t take anything for granted. I’m thankful for my uncles and this house, so I take care in keeping my room clean. As for my laundry, I already took mine down about ten minutes ago to get me out of algebra for a few minutes.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Do you need help?”

He shook his head. “My uncle helped me this afternoon. I’ve got the hang of it now. He’s pretty smart.” Ben grinned proudly.

I’m sure he is, Beth thought. With his educational background, that was obvious. She admired that about him too, but she definitely wouldn’t tell him that—he already had enough ego to fill a room.

“Uncle Marsh’s room is next door. He’s out fixing the hay rake, so just go right in.”

“Okay,” she said, turning away before the boy could see her blush. She already knew where Marshal’s room was because the bathroom she’d used her first night here was right across the hall. Hearing that he was off fixing something made her glad—he wasn’t out with that other woman. Regardless, she still knocked even though the door was wide open and the room was obviously vacant.

She set the laundry basket on the bed, which was a mess along with the rest of his room. Ben might not take anything for granted, but Marshal was a slob. There were filthy clothes strewn all over the carpet with no thought to where he’d even taken them off. Beth blew her bangs out of her face and started picking things up.

She held up one of his pairs of jeans and still for the life of her couldn’t believe the size of that man. His jeans would probably reach her breasts and she could put two of her in them. She chuckled at the thought and tossed them in the basket, then started picking up the rest of his clothes. If May cleaned this room every day, she needed a raise. Stopping, she looked around and decided that she’d tidy up a few more things before she left. That would give May more of a break.

May was just taking the roast out of the convection oven when Beth came in and asked her where the laundry room was.