Bride Protector SEAL (4 page)

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“It wasn’t one of our vehicles.”

“He was aiming for you. And I was aiming for him when your horse reared.”

Allie frowned. “I guess I should thank you.”

“No need. I was just doing my job.”

“Okay, so you aren’t a great horseman, but you did shoot the snake without killing me.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, we’d better get back to the house before we’re late for dinner.”

Allie balanced her hands on her hips. “Since my horse is halfway back to the barn by now, we’ll have to ride double. I’ll drive. But you’ll need to mount first.”

Swede swung up into the saddle, removed his foot from the stirrup and reached for her hand.

Allie placed her toe where his had been, and Swede pulled her up in front of him. For a moment, she was sitting in his lap. Her auburn hair drifted into his face.

Inhaling a hint of strawberry and the fresh, outdoor scent clinging to her, he closed his eyes and tried not to think of her sitting where she was, or that his groin was reacting naturally and hardening.

His eyes snapped open and he pushed backward, over the lip of the saddle and sat on Little Joe’s rump.

He tried holding onto the saddle, but as soon as Allie nudged Little Joe’s flanks, the animal leaped forward.

Swede slipped backward and almost fell off the horse. He wrapped his arms around Allie’s waist and held tight all the way back to the barn.

When they arrived in the barnyard, Swede slipped off the back of the horse and landed on his feet.

Allie swung her leg over Little Joe’s back, and dropped to the ground. “You didn’t do badly for your first ride on a horse.”

The insides of his thighs ached, but it was a good ache. After months in a hospital and physical therapy, getting out into the open, clean air of Montana felt good.

Now, if he could keep Allie safe from whoever just tried to run her over, he’d feel even better.

A
llie hurried
into the house to get cleaned up and dressed for dinner. Her father believed in punctuality. As children, if they weren’t at the table on time, they didn’t eat. Of course, when their mother was alive, she’d sneak a snack into their rooms, later. After she’d passed away, Georgia continued the tradition.

When Allie got married and had her own house, she wouldn’t be as strict. She might even have dinner at different hours other than 6:30pm every single day. She ran up the stairs, calling out, “I have the shower first.”

A low chuckle sounded at the bottom of the stairs, warming her from the inside.

When she made it to the top, she glanced over the banister.

Swede stood at the base of the staircase, his hand resting on the banister, staring up at her, his mouth tipped upward in a smile.

Allie stumbled, recovered and ran for her bedroom, her cheeks burning.

The man had no right to be so very handsome when he smiled. And how different from Damien. Not that Damien wasn’t handsome. He was. Like a prince. Not like a rugged navy SEAL with boundless muscles and a wicked grin.

Grabbing fresh jeans and a soft green pullover blouse, she entered the bathroom, locked the door and ducked under the shower’s cool spray. By the time she’d rinsed off the dirt, smoke and sweat from her body and shampooed her hair, she had her head on straight. Without wasting any time, she was out of the shower, dried and had combed the tangles out of her long hair, thinking for the hundredth time she needed to cut it short. But she couldn’t bring herself to do more than trim it. Every time she looked into the mirror, she saw her mother, the parent who’d given her the auburn hair and green eyes her father had fallen in love with.

Dressed and brushed, she ducked back into her room, pulled on socks and a pair of clean boots and ran down the stairs to see if Georgia needed help getting the food on the table. She didn’t run into Swede, figuring he was in his room unpacking.

Georgia stood at the stove, stirring gravy in a pot. “You can take the roast out to the table.”

Allie did, and returned to the kitchen. “Mmm. That smells good.”

Having been the housekeeper since before Allie’s mother passed, Georgia was like a surrogate mother. She lifted the pot off the stove and poured the gravy into a bowl. “Before your father comes down, you want to tell me why you lied to me, your father and Eddy?”

With a spoonful of gravy halfway to her mouth, Allie grimaced. “I’m sorry I lied.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” Georgia planted a fist on her hip. “Swede didn’t go to school with you, did he?”

Allie had hated lying to Georgia. It gnawed at her belly, making her feel nauseated. “No. I met him this morning, at Hank’s.”

“So, why did you invite a complete stranger to stay in the house?”

“He’s a buddy of Hank’s from his navy SEAL team. Damien hired him to be my bodyguard until the wedding.”

“Bodyguard?” Georgia’s brows furrowed. “Does this have anything to do with the fire at his place?”

Allie nodded. “And my cut brake lines. Someone is mad at Damien and is taking it out on him. Damien thinks he might be targeting me, as well.”

“And what do you think?”

She hated to admit it, but… “I think he’s right. When I went out to check on the sick heifer, I was almost run over by someone on an ATV. Swede kept that from happening.” Allie didn’t add that Swede had shot a snake next to her head as well. No use worrying Georgia any more than she already was, based on her deepening frown.

The older woman took her hands. “What has that fiancé gotten you into?”

“I don’t know, but he’s working on it.” Or so she assumed. Why else would he take off before the sheriff and firefighters arrived at his place to put out a fire?

Georgia held her at arm’s length. “You know you can back out of the wedding any time between now and the actual ceremony.”

Allie smiled at her. “I’m okay. The wedding is going on as planned. Just a few more days, and I’ll be a married woman with a house of my own to run.”

“You hate household chores.”

“Yeah, but I’ll have people to do them for me. The way I like them done.” Allie pulled Georgia into a quick hug. “Not that you haven’t done a terrific job taking care of us all these years. Have I ever said thank you?”

“Yes, dear. You have.” Georgia hugged her tight. “We’re going to miss you around here.”

“I’ll only be a couple of miles away.”

“Maybe so, but it will seem like a long way to me. I’ll be outnumbered by the men.”

Allie laughed. “I’m sure you’ll keep them in line.”

“Are you two going to stand around gabbing or come eat?” Eddy, the ranch foreman and Georgia’s husband, entered the kitchen, sniffed and rubbed his belly. “Something smells good.”

Georgia stepped back, dabbing her eyes with the hem of her apron. “Did you wash up?” she said, her voice brisk as she turned toward the stove and retrieved a pan full of corn.

“Yes, I did.” Eddy sneaked up behind her, pulled her back against his front and nuzzled her neck. “You smell good enough to eat.”

Georgia smacked his hands playfully and giggled. “Oh, go on with yourself.”

“Not until I get me some sugar.”

She set the pan of corn on the stove, turned in his arm and kissed him. “Now, go set the table.”

Eddy grinned and smacked her bottom.

“Dang it, Eddy!” Georgia waved a wooden spoon at him. “I’m not above spanking you with this.”

“Promises, promises.” He fished silverware from a drawer and laid them on the table, whistling as he did.

Allie was used to their playful antics. The childless couple had always been loving and unabashed at showing it in front of others.

“It’s 6:30, are we eating or not?” Allie’s father entered the big country kitchen, pulled back the chair at the head of the table and sat.

Allie carried the bowl of corn while Georgia brought a basket full of fresh-baked rolls.

“It’s 6:25, not 6:30. Remember, Daddy? You always set your watch five minutes ahead.” Allie shot a glance toward the doorway, wondering what was keeping Swede.

Just as she looked that way, he entered the room.

“Pardon me if I kept you waiting.”

Allie’s father frowned at Swede. “Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?”

For the next hour, Eddy and Mr. Patterson grilled Swede about everything from letting Ruger in the house, to what he knew about horses and cattle, to the types of weapons his team used on special operations.

With admirable patience, Swede answered every question. Eddy and Allie’s father seemed satisfied with the man’s answers, even when he owned up to knowing nothing about livestock. When the meal was over, he got up like the inquisition hadn’t fazed him a bit.

Allie, on the other hand, felt like she’d been run through the wringer. And the worst part was, she’d seen another side of Swede she hadn’t wanted to see. A proud military man who’d served his country and now had to figure out how to fit into a life without the SEALs.

He even helped clean the table and wash dishes.

Damn it, if she wasn’t careful, she might end up liking the exasperating man.

Tired from a long day, full of stress and trauma, she trudged up the stairs and brushed her teeth. When she exited the bathroom, she ran into Swede. He’d shed his shirt and boots and wore only jeans.

The moisture in Allie’s mouth dried as she stared at his broad, muscular chest.

“Are you okay?” Swede asked.

Dragging her eyes upward, she couldn’t make her gaze quite reach his eyes, stopping on his full, sexy lips. “I’m fine,” she managed to squeak out. Then she dove into her room and slammed the door behind her.

This just would not do. The man was far too attractive to be a bodyguard.

Allie stripped, pulled on an old MSU T-shirt from her college days and crawled into bed, reminding herself that her wedding was only a few days away. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture Damien in a tuxedo, standing at the altar. But the face she saw wasn’t Damien’s, it was Swede’s.

Double damn.

S
wede woke early
the next morning after a crappy night’s sleep. Thankfully, he hadn’t had any of the dreams that had plagued him since he’d left the service. He dressed in sweats, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes and took Ruger outside. Staying within sight of the house, he performed his morning calisthenics—pushups, sit-ups, leg-lifts and more. It paid to stay in shape. Even while he’d been recovering from his wounds in the hospital, he’d done everything he could.

Today, his hand and thighs ached from riding the day before. He stretched his legs and ran to the end of the driveway and back several times before he finally reentered the house.

The smell of bacon lured him to the kitchen where Georgia cooked breakfast. “This will be ready by the time you’re out of the shower,” she promised.

“Thanks,” Swede said. “It smells good.” He took the stairs two at a time, grabbed a pair of clean jeans, and hit the shower.

When he was done, he stepped out of the tub, toweled dry, and tossed the towel to the floor. He was reaching for his jeans when the door swung open. Swede straightened as Allie started in.

When she saw him standing there naked, she widened her eyes and her mouth dropped open. For a long moment she stared. Then her cheeks turned a brilliant red, and she backed out of the doorway. “Pardon me.” She pulled the door shut. Through the panel, she said, “Oh, my God.”

Swede laughed out loud, and then tried to pull on his jeans over a rock-hard erection. He waited a minute, thinking of everything that could douse his desire, from babies to grandmothers. Nothing seemed to work when the image of Allie’s face kept coming to mind. Carefully tucking himself in, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and let it hang down over the ridge of his fly.

He found Allie downstairs in the kitchen with Georgia. Allie didn’t look him in the eye, her cheeks still a pretty shade of pink. “My father and Eddy are out cutting hay, so I’m working the barn today. Have you ever mucked a stall?” Finally, she glanced his way.

Swede shook his head, feeling a little inadequate for the job of ranch hand. “No, but I’m game.”
As long as I’m near you.

“I know the task is not part of your job description, so don’t feel like you have to.”

Swede shot a glance toward Georgia.

The older woman nodded. “I know. I’m just glad someone is looking out for our girl.” She held up a coffee pot. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Swede said.

“I still think you should tell Eddy and your father what’s going on.” Georgia gave Allie a stern look as she poured the steaming brew into two mugs and carried them to the table. “They could be looking out for you, too.”

“Absolutely not,” Allie said. “My father would do his best to call off the wedding. I’ve spent too much money on everything, and the event is only a few days away. I pick up my dress tomorrow, and everything is downhill from there.”

Georgia raised her brows. “Downhill?”

Allie rolled her eyes and took one of the plates of food from the kitchen counter. “You know what I mean.”

“All the preparations are nothing but money and time,” Georgia said.

Swede stood quietly, watching the interaction between the two women.

Apparently, Georgia didn’t want Allie to marry Damien. Swede wondered why.

Allie ignored Georgia’s comment and focused on Swede, her color back to normal, her jaw set in a tight line. “The sooner we get done cleaning the stalls, the sooner we can exercise the horses. After that, we can call it a day. I have to tell you, though, it’ll be a long, hard day.”

“I’m up for it.”

Allie handed him a plate full of eggs, bacon and biscuits. “Eat up.”

After breakfast, Swede followed Allie out to the barn. She handed him a pitchfork and pointed to a wheelbarrow. “Tie the horse up outside the stall and start shoveling.”

Swede worked through the morning, glad for the physical labor that flexed his muscles and the rich, earthy smell of manure. It beat the scent of diesel smoke and gun powder any day.

Ruger stood guard outside the barn, lying in a patch of sun, watching as Swede and Allie wheeled barrels full of soiled straw out to a pile behind the barn. By noon, they had all the stalls cleaned, the horses brushed, and the chickens and pigs fed.

Georgia had sandwiches waiting when they came inside. Then they were right back out in the sunshine to exercise the horses.

Allie lunged a couple of mares in the corral and then had Swede take over. She watched him, giving tips on how to handle the animal and the lunging rope.

Swede was glad the horse knew what to do. The work wasn’t hard. In fact, it had a certain rhythm that bred a sense of calm.

Georgia shouted from the house that Allie had a call from the caterer.

“This horse is about done. You can turn her out into the pasture and then bring out another horse. Just stay clear of Diablo, the black gelding in the last stall. He’s a work in progress, and he hasn’t quite got the hang of anything.”

“Who rides him?”

“No one, yet. Like I said, he’s a work in progress. In other words, he’s too wild to handle easily.” Allie waved at Georgia. “I have to go. No need to follow me. You can keep an eye on the house from the corral, and I really doubt anyone will attack me there.”

Swede nodded. She was right. He had a good view of the house and the road leading to it from the corral.

As Allie hurried inside, Swede couldn’t help but follow her progress. He told himself it was part of his job, but the truth was the way her hips swayed in her jeans was completely mesmerizing.

The horse he held on a lead tossed her head, pulling Swede back to the task at hand. He walked her through the gate into the pasture and unhooked the lead.

She pranced away and joined the other horses already grazing.

Glancing back at the house and drive, Swede returned to the barn and walked along the stalls, most of which were empty now. One mare stood placidly, watching him as he passed her and walked down the line of stalls to the end.

When they’d been cleaning, Allie had led Diablo in and out. She’d also taken charge of brushing him.

As Swede neared, the animal stuck his head over the top of the gate and nickered.

“So, you’re a real ball-buster, are you?” Swede spoke softly and reached out a hand to rub the gelding’s nose.

Diablo nuzzled his hand.

“Do you want out?”

The horse pawed at the dirt and tossed his head as if saying
yes
.

“How hard can it be to walk you around a corral?” Swede snapped the lead onto Diablo’s halter and opened the stall.

As soon as the latch was free, Diablo hit the door, knocking Swede backward. He staggered and held on tightly to the lunging rope, while being dragged out of the barn by the bolting horse.

When Swede got his feet under himself, he dug his heels into the dirt and slowed the horse.

Diablo reared and jerked the lead, but Swede held steady and started talking. Soon, the horse stopped fighting and settled on all fours.

Ruger stepped up beside Swede as if to show his support.

Diablo lowered his nose to the dog, and the four-legged creatures sniffed each other.

“You’re not so bad, just a little spirited.” He raised his hand slowly to stroke the horse’s nose. “See? I’m not here to hurt you.” The gelding tossed his head as if to disagree. “Ruger wouldn’t be beside me now if I hurt him. He trusts me because he gave me a chance. I gave him one, too.” Swede continued to talk to the horse as he led him into the corral and closed the gate behind him. Still holding the lead close to Diablo’s halter, Swede walked the horse around the outer circle. He kept a running monologue going, to calm the animal.

Ruger stood outside the pen. Every time they passed the dog, the horse looked his way.

After walking around the pen for five minutes, getting the gelding used to the environment, Swede picked up the pace and settled into a slow and steady jog.

Diablo matched his pace and trotted alongside Swede. Slowly, Swede lengthened the lead, still running with the horse, but putting more distance between them. Whenever Diablo slowed, Swede clicked his tongue and jogged faster, encouraging the horse to keep moving. When the lead was long enough and Swede was standing in the middle of the corral, the horse slowed. Swede clicked his tongue, and Diablo broke into a trot.

After several more circles around the corral, Swede let Diablo come to a stop. He pulled in the lead until he could rub the horse’s nose. “You’re a good boy,” Swede soothed, running his hand across the horse’s nose and up to scratch his ears. Then he swept his hand along the gelding’s neck to his back.

Diablo pawed the earth and whinnied, swaying on his hooves.

Swede scratched the animal’s back, side and around to his belly. He moved his hands up to the horse’s back again and laid his arms over the top, scratching the other side, while leaning his weight on the animal.

Diablo tossed his head, but didn’t move away.

Holding onto the lead rope, Swede grabbed hold of a handful of Diablo’s mane and swung his leg over the top of the horse. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Diablo’s neck, speaking to him the entire time, fully expecting to be thrown, but hoping it wouldn’t happen.

Diablo backed up and then moved forward, whinnying.

Ruger whined behind the rails of the corral, capturing the gelding’s attention.

Diablo trotted to where the dog stood and lowered his head to sniff.

Swede molded his body to the horse, still rubbing his neck and speaking softly.

Seeing Diablo and Ruger greeting each other with their noses, Swede slipped off the horse’s back and patted his neck. “See? It’s not as bad as you think.”

When Swede straightened, he noticed he had an audience.

“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.” Eddy leaned against a corral panel, his arms resting on the top rail.

“That horse doesn’t like anyone,” Lloyd Patterson said, scratching his head.

“And to beat it all, Swede never rode a horse until yesterday.” Allie joined the two men at the fence, a smile tilting the corners of her lips. “You’re lucky he didn’t take you for a ride.”

Swede rubbed Diablo’s neck. “I think he just needed a friend.” He tipped his head toward Ruger. Diablo and Ruger sniffed at each other. Ruger’s tail thumped the ground.

“The man we bought him from said he had another gelding raised with Diablo,” Mr. Patterson said.

“You might want to check and see if he still has him,” Allie said. “Seems Diablo needs a friend.”

“Why? Swede’s dog seems to be doing the job,” Eddy said.

“And why feed another horse?” her father added. “It’s cheaper to feed a dog.”

Allie’s smile slipped. “Swede and Ruger are only here until after the wedding.” She opened the gate. “I think we have one more horse to exercise. Dad, is there anything else you want done before we call it a day?”

“Not a thing. We could use a little help hauling the first cutting of hay the day after tomorrow. It should be dry enough, and we need to get it in before the rain.”

As he walked Diablo though the gate, Swede glanced at the bright blue Montana sky. “Is a rainstorm expected?”

Lloyd flexed his shoulder. “I can feel it in my bursitis. If not tomorrow, then the next day. By the end of the week for certain.”

“Great. It’ll probably rain on my wedding day,” Allie muttered

“You can always put it off,” her father said. “No need to rush into marriage.”

“I’m getting married on Saturday,” Allie said, her tone flat but firm.

Mr. Patterson faced his daughter. “If you’re going to get married, why Reynolds?”

“Because he asked me, and I said yes.”

Lloyd nodded toward Swede. “Why not marry a real man—like a war hero?”

“Dad!” Allie’s face burned a bright red. “You don’t even know Swede. Besides, who said he wanted to get married in the first place?” She threw her hands in the air. “What did Mom see in you? All I’m getting is a grumpy old man who is stubborn and insensitive.”

Her father’s face grew rigid, his eyes a stormy gray. “I loved your mother and would have done anything for her. And she loved me, too.” He lifted his chin. “Can you say that about Reynolds?”

Swede could feel the tension between father and daughter, as palpable as electricity singeing the air.

“I’m getting married on Saturday. You can come to the wedding and wish me well–or not. But I don’t want to hear another negative word about Damien.” She stomped into the barn, leaving the men outside, scratching their heads.

“Women,” Lloyd grumbled. “Can’t live with them…and can’t live without them.”

“Guess you’ll find out in a few days.” Eddy pounded Lloyd’s back and turned to Swede. “Good job with Diablo. You might have a knack for ranching after all, city boy.”

Swede nodded. “Thanks.”

Inside the barn, Allie had grabbed a lunging rope, snapped it onto the last mare needing exercise, and led her past Swede and Diablo. “Don’t say a word.”

Swede grinned. “I wasn’t going to.”

“My father raised me, but he doesn’t know anything about me, or how I feel.”

“Maybe he just wants you to be happy.”

Allie raised her hand. “I said, don’t say a word.” She walked out, leading the mare, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Swede chuckled.

“No laughing, either,” Allie’s voice sounded from just outside the barn door.

Swede fed Diablo and brushed his coat. Ruger lay nearby. It seemed the dog’s mere presence had the same calming effect on the horse as it did on Swede.
Go figure.
All Swede knew was that if not for Ruger, he’d still be suffering the effects of his nightmares and breaking out in cold sweats over loud noises. Yeah, he’d pulled Ruger off death row at the pound, but Ruger had pulled Swede out of a life of misery, suffering from PTSD.

Now, if only the dog could perform miracles and dampen the increasing urge Swede felt to kiss the feisty Miss Patterson.

A
fter the last
horse had been exercised and all the animals fed, Allie trudged back to the house and sat on the steps to remove her boots. “Thanks for the help.”