Mail-order bridegroom (12 page)

Bitterness filled Orrie's expression. 'Then he strung you along with his lies as well as the rest of us, 'cause he fired me. And that ain't all!' The words were tumbling from him, as though he feared being stopped. Forcibly. 'Lenny's gonna have to leave, too. And he's made Mateo give up the horses.'

She couldn't hide her disbelief. 'Hunter, you can't do that!'

'I can and I have/ He motioned to the men. 'You have your orders. Get to it.' Without a word, they drifted away from the scene.

Orrie stared at her with the saddest, most pathetic eyes she'd ever seen. 'You won't let him fire me, will you, Miz Hampton?'

'Her name is Pryde. Mrs Pryde,' Hunter stated coldly. He snagged his hat from the dirt and slapped the dust from the brim. 'And she has no say in this. You have your wages, which is more than you deserve. Pick up your bedroll and clear out.' He started toward them. 'Now.'

Orrie hesitated, shifting so that Leah stood between him and trouble. 'Miz Hampton... Pryde?'

She switched her attention from her employee to Hunter. 'Perhaps if I understood the reason?' she suggested, hoping he'd take the hint and explain himself.

Instead he folded his arms across his chest. 'There's nothing to understand. This is between me and the boy. I suggest you go to the house.'

She stared in shock. 'What?'

'You heard me. You're interfering. So, say goodbye to your friend here and get up to the house. Believe me. I'll be right behind.'

It sounded more like a threat than a promise. For a long minute she stood glaring at him, too furious to speak and too uncertain of the possible consequences to stand her ground. With a muffled exclamation, she turned and walked away, knowing that her cheeks burned with outrage. She could only pray that none of her other employees had been close enough to witness their battle of wills. Especially when she'd been so thoroughly defeated.

'Miz Hampton,' Orrie cried, dogging her retreat. 'Please. You gotta do something.'

She paused, glancing at him apologetically. 'It's out of my hands/ she admitted, risking a quick nervous look over her shoulder.

"That's it? You're going to let him fire me? You're going to give in to that... that half-breed?'

She pulled away in distaste. 'Don't ever use that expression around me.'

He'd made a mistake, and apparently knew it. He hastened to correct the situation. 'I... I didn't mean to say that,' he apologized. 'You gotta understand. I'm desperate. I have nowhere else to go.'

It took all her willpower to resist his pleas. 'I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do,' she said, and continued walking.

She didn't turn around again. Once at the house, she stormed into the study and stood helplessly by the window, watching Orrie's departure. Hunter watched too, remaining dead center in the middle of the drive while the youngster packed his things into Patrick's pickup and finally left. Then Hunter turned and faced the house, grim intent marking every line of his body.

Leah didn't even realize that she'd backed from the window until she found herself up against her father's desk. Not taking time to analyze her reasons, she put the width of the oak tabletop between her and the study door. A minute later it crashed open.

Hunter strode in, slamming the door behind him so hard that it rocked on its hinges. 'You and I,' he announced in a furious voice, 'have a small matter to set straight.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

'You're angry,' she said, stating the obvious... stating the very obvious.

He started across the room. 'Good guess.'

'Well, I'm angry too.' She swallowed hard. 'I suggest we discuss this.'

He kept coming.

'Calmly.'

He knocked a mahogany hat rack from his path.

'Rationally.'

He stalked around the desk.

'Like two civilized adults.' She retreated, using her father's swivel chair as a shield. 'Okay?'

In response, he kicked the chair out of the way and trapped her against the wall.

'That's a yes, right?' she said with a gasp.

A muscle jerked in his cheek and he made a small growling sound low in his throat that told her more clearly than anything else just how furious he was. It took every ounce of willpower not to panic and bolt from the room. He grabbed her wrist in one hand and yanked. Bending low, he clipped her across the hips and tossed her over his shoulder.

' Hunter ! No, don't!' she had time to shriek, before her entire world turned upside-down.

He clamped an arm around her legs just above the knees, effectively immobilizing her. 'We're going to discuss this all right. But not here where everyone and her grandmother can listen in,' he announced.

Tut me down!' She planted her palms in the middle of his back and attempted to wiggle free. Not that it did any good. His grip was as strong as a steel band.

'We could continue this conversation at the line-shack, if you'd prefer/ He shrugged his shoulders, bouncing her like a sack of potatoes. The breath whooshed from her lungs and she stopped bucking.

'No! Why not here? The study is an excellent place for a discussion. You start discussing and you'll see how good a place it is/

'I say it's not.'

He'd reached the door and Leah began to panic seriously. 'Hunter, please. Put me down.'

He ignored her, stepping into the hallway. Heading for the entrance, he tipped his hat and said, 'Afternoon, Rose. Glad you could drop in. Or should I say eavesdrop in? My bride and I are going for a little drive.'

'You don't say.' Rose folded her arms across her chest. 'You're going to have trouble driving like that.'

'It's amazing the things you can accomplish when you set your mind to it. Don't wait dinner for us.' With that, he left the house. Beside his pick-up, he dropped Leah to her feet, and held the truck door open. 'Your choice. You can get in under your own steam, or I can help you.'

She planted her hands on her hips. 'I am perfectly capable of getting into a truck all on my own, thank you very much.'

'Wrong answer.' The next thing she knew, he'd scooped her up and dumped her on the passenger seat. Slamming the door closed, he leaned in the window. 'This conversation may take longer than I thought. Stay here.'

Before she could say a single word, he'd started off toward the barn. He returned several minutes later, car-

rying two fishing poles and a tackle-box. She stared at the rods in disbelief. 'What's all that for?' she questioned, the second he climbed into the cab.

'Fishing.'

'I know that!' Loath as she was to mention the fact, she forced herself to remind him, 'I meant... I thought we were going to have a discussion.' She gave him a hopeful smile. 'But if you'd rather fish...'

'Believe me,' he said, shooting her a sharp look, 'we'll have that talk. Consider the drive to our. ..discussion site as a short reprieve.'

She struggled to hide her disappointment. 'And the poles?'

'My reward for not killing you.' He gunned the engine. 'If you were smart, you'd stay real quiet and hope it takes a long time to get there.'

'But '

'Not another word!' His words exploded with a fury that left her in no doubt as to how tenuous a hold he had on his temper. 'Woman, you are inches away from disaster. I guarantee, you don't want to push me any further.'

Taking his suggestion to heart, she didn't open her mouth the entire length of the ride. She soon realized what destination he had in mind. The rough dirt track that he turned on to led to a small, secluded lake in the far western section of the ranch. It had been one of their favorite meeting-spots eight years ago. It was also about as far from curious eyes and ears as they could get. As much as she dreaded the coming confrontation, she appreciated his determination to keep it as private as possible.

'Hunter,' she began as they neared the lake.

'Not yet,' he bit out. 'I'm still not calm enough to deal with you.'

Pulling the truck to a stop at the end of the track, he climbed from the cab and gathered up the poles, tackle-box and a plastic bucket. * Let's go/ he called over his shoulder.

Reluctantly Leah left the truck, and rummaged in the back for something to sit on. If they were going to stay a while—and she suspected that they were—she intended to be comfortable. Spreading the colorful Mexican blanket in the grass at the edge of the shore, she removed her boots and socks and rolled her jeans to her knees. Sticking her feet into the cool water, she asked, 'Are we going to talk first or fish?'

He spared her a brief glance. 'Both. You want a rod?'

'Might as well,' she muttered.

She searched the surrounding bermuda grass until she found a good-sized cricket. Carrying it back to the blanket, she knelt beside her pole, closed her eyes, and stuck the insect on the end of the hook. Ready to catch a catfish or two, she cast toward the middle of the lake. A bright yellow and red bobber marked her spot and she settled back on the blanket, wishing she could truly relax and enjoy a lazy afternoon of fishing. But she was all too aware of their coming 'discussion*.

Hunter attached his spinner bait to his line and cast into a marshy, partially shaded section of water known to attract bass. Tve told you before, you can't bait a hook without looking,' he informed her in a taut voice.

'I just did.'

He yanked on his line. 'One of these times, you're going to set the hook in your finger instead of the cricket. It's going to hurt. It's going to bleed. And I'm going to have to cut the damned thing out.'

7/ that fine day ever arrives, you can say "I told you so". Until then, I'd rather not see what I'm murdering.' She cupped her chin in her hand and rested her elbow

on a bent knee. 'Are we going to fight over fishing, or are we going to fight over the real problem?'

He turned his head and studied her. More than a hint of anger lingered in the depths of his eyes. 'Do you even know what that is?'

'Sure/ she said with a shrug. 'You hit Orrie.'

'You're damned right, I hit him. All things considered, he got off easy.' Hunter slowly reeled in his line. 'But that's not the issue.'

She knew it wasn't, though he'd never get her to admit it. 'Mateo loves working with the horses,' she said instead. 'Did you have to make him give it up? And why fire Lenny? He's a good worker and a wonderful man.'

Hunter cast his line again, his mouth tightening. 'Nor is that the issue.'

'It is so,' she disagreed, her frustration flaring out of control. 'It's why we're arguing.'

'No, it's not. It's why you're annoyed, but it's not why we're arguing,' he corrected harshly. 'You're annoyed because I didn't consult with you before making changes and we're arguing because I won't explain my decision.'

He'd hit the nail on the head, and she focused her attention on that particular aspect of the discussion. 'Why did you do it? Why did you fire Orrie and Lenny and change Mateo's job?' He remained stubbornly silent and she wanted to scream in exasperation. 'You're not going to tell me, are you?'

'No, I'm not.'

'Because it's not the issue? 9 she demanded, tossing her pole to the grass and scrambling to her feet. 'It's my ranch, too. I have a right to know. You promised to give everyone a fair chance. You promised!'

Setting his rod on the blanket, he reached out and swept her feet from under her, catching her before she

hit the ground. 'That's the issue/ he practically snarled. 'I made a promise to you—which I kept. And you made a promise to me—which you didn't keep.'

She fought his hold, with no success. His strength was too great. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' she insisted.

He pushed her back on to the blanket and knelt above her, planting his hands on either side of her head. * Who's in charge of this ranch?'

'That's not the point.'

'It's precisely the point. Answer me. Who's in charge of this ranch?'

It galled her to say it. 'You are,' she forced herself to admit. She pushed against his chest, struggling to sit up. To her relief, he rocked back on to his heels, allowing her to wriggle out from beneath him.

'So you do remember our conversation at the line-shack,' he said in satisfaction.

She wrapped her arms around her waist. 'Very funny. How could I forget?' It wasn't one of her more pleasant recollections. Every last, painful detail had been burned into her memory.

'And do you also remember the promises we exchanged?'

'Of course.'

'So do I.' He ticked them off on his fingers. 'I promised to give your employees a fair chance. I promised to give your grandmother a home. And I promised to sign a prenuptial agreement. Is that everything?'

She glanced at him uneasily. 'Yes.'

'You promised one thing. What was it?'

She knew where he was headed with this and she didn't like it. 'I seem to remember there being more than one,' she temporized.

'Fine,' he said evenly. 'Name any that you remember.'

Time to face the music. She should be grateful that he wasn't rending her limb from limb. She looked him straight in the eye and said, 'I promised you'd be in charge of the ranch/

'Which means?'

She sighed. 'That what you say goes. That I'm not to question you in front of the employees or second-guess your decisions. You don't work by committee,' she repeated his demands by rote.

'And did you do that? Did you keep your promise?'

Reluctantly she shook her head. 'No.' Nor had she kept her agreement to make their marriage a fully functioning one. She should be grateful that he hadn't pointed that out as well.

"That's why I'm angry. One of these days you'll trust me to do what's right for you and for the ranch. You'll trust me without question.'

'You mean blindly.'

'Okay. That's what I mean.'

She bit down on her lip. How could she do what he asked when it might all be part of an elaborate game of revenge, an attempt to even the score for old wrongs? 'I don't think I can do that, Hunter. You're asking me to risk everything.'

'Yes. I am.'

'It's too much,' she whispered, staring down at the blanket, running the wool fringe through her fingers. 'I can't give it to you. Not yet.'