Reckless Promise
Authors: Jenny Andersen
Tags: #romance, #truth, #cowboy, #ranch life, #pretence, #things not what they seem
By Jenny Andersen
Copyright © 2010 Jenny Andersen
(Previously published as The Other Woman)
Revised Edition 2014
Smashwords Edition
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places,
and incidents are the product of the author's imagination.
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Table of Contents
Reckless Promise
Chapter 1
Welcome to the Wild, Wild West.
Poppy slumped in the passenger seat of the
hulking Chevy Suburban and stared at the steer horns mounted on the
hood. "Tom, this is crazy. It'll never work."
Tom glanced at her and returned his attention
to the road. "It was your idea."
"I was—upset." Drunk. And when she’d tried a
practice ‘job’, she’d been all too effective. Instead of saving a
marriage, she’d ended up with a jealous wife following her home and
screaming at her. Tom’s response to her frantic plea to back out
had been to slam down the phone before sending a plane ticket and a
reminder that she’d promised.
If she lived through it, she would never,
ever do such a reckless thing again, and that was another promise
she’d keep. She tried once more. "I can’t—"
"Too late. You’re single and gorgeous. You're
here. And Alice knows we’ve just spent a couple of hours alone
together."
"But—"
"
And
Alice knows we met in Boston when
I was there last month."
"But—"
"Anyway, we’ve arrived. You can’t back out
now."
Apparently not. She had promised, after all,
and she believed in keeping promises. But her stomach did a half
gainer at the thought of what she faced.
The oversized vehicle jounced across some
metal bars set in the ground between halves of a serious-looking
fence and stopped at what must be the main ranch house, a long, low
lodge built of rosy-coloured stone. Bright petunias and pansies
tumbled from flower beds framing a welcoming porch, and the windows
gleamed in the sunlight.
Any other time she'd have thought it
charming. Today it looked like doom.
Tom heaved her bags onto the porch, narrowly
missing a sweet-faced woman standing in front of a cluster of
people. He ignored her, stopped beside Poppy to lean close and
whisper, "You're on stage. Break a leg," before waving at everyone.
"Trail ride. I'm outta here," he called and left.
Poppy stood frozen, looking at the woman.
Tom's wife? She gulped and tried to force a cheery "Hello," past
her dry mouth.
"Welcome to the Montana Blue Guest Ranch. I'm
Alice Bailey," the woman said in a frosty voice.
Yep. Tom’s wife. The woman he'd ignored. The
one she was supposed to make jealous. Poppy gathered her courage
and went up the steps, remembering to put some unaccustomed hip
action in her walk.
The people behind Alice turned out to be a
family—tanned, relaxed people who had survived a vacation here and
were waiting for a ride back to the airport. The father’s gaze
focused on Poppy and his jaw went slack. His wife jabbed him with
her elbow.
Right reaction, Poppy supposed, but wrong
target. She’d dressed to entice, in bright red Spandex and extra
make-up. They sure did the job but she had to swallow a longing for
her usual sensible, comfortable clothes.
With an obvious effort to be a gracious
hostess, Alice went on with her welcome-to-the-ranch speech. "—so
glad you're here." It sounded almost sincere. "Let me just say
goodbye to these folks and we'll get you settled in."
Poppy leaned against the porch railing and
watched Alice exchange hugs and handshakes with the adults, feeling
worse with each passing minute. Alice picked up a little girl and
kissed her cheek before handing her into the car to her mother.
"You be sure to send me that recipe," she said to the woman. "Our
cook can practice and get it just the way you like it by next
summer."
This was going to be awful. Poppy couldn’t do
this to such a nice woman. But... She sighed. She had to.
A hairy behemoth—he looked like a super-sized
Hell's Angel in a cowboy hat—came out of the house, climbed in the
driver's seat, and drove off with the departing guests.
Alice turned to Poppy. Her smile faded.
"Let's go inside and get you checked in," she said in a brisk
voice. "I hope you'll enjoy your stay with us," she added with no
eye contact whatever.
Guilt stabbed Poppy right in the conscience.
She doubted she'd enjoy anything about the next two weeks. But
she'd pretend.
Alice gave her a quick tour of the main
building, pointing out the dining room, a door marked Private that
led to family quarters, and a Great Room with overstuffed chairs
and sofas ranged around a fieldstone fireplace that looked like it
could roast a whole buffalo. "What a lovely room," she said.
"Rustic. Just perfect. Did you...uh...shoot those..." She gestured
at the stuffed dead things on the walls. "...deer?"
"Antelope. Elk. That one's a buffalo. And
yes, I shot some of them. That's what we eat during the
winter."
Poppy didn't want to think about Alice and
guns in the same sentence. A glitter of blue caught her eye and she
walked over to a cabinet in a dark corner. "Jewels?"
Alice didn't slow down. "Montana sapphires.
I'm sure you'll enjoy them." Her head came up at the sound of a
loud engine and she stalked out the front door without another
word.
Poppy cast a last, nervous glance over her
shoulder at the glassy-eyed animal heads and followed.
A rackety old truck finished in dents and
dull primer stopped in a cloud of exhaust fumes inches from the
steps. The driver climbed out and glared at Alice. "I'm ready for
my check," he said, sullen as a student denied extra credit on an
exam.
Alice's mouth flattened. "Excuse me," she
said to Poppy. "Come with me, Brad. You have to sign for this." She
stalked back into the house.
Brad lingered long enough to look Poppy up
and down before he followed Alice. She hunched her shoulders and
turned away, but not before she saw his eyes brighten at her
accentuated cleavage.
Eventually Alice and Brad returned. "...sorry
this didn't work out. I hope things will get better for you," Alice
said as she came onto the porch.
"Oh, right. Like firing me with no reference
is going to make my life easier." His lip curled. "You're making a
big mistake. You'll be sorry."
He sounded like a toddler about to have a
tantrum and Poppy cringed. She must have sounded just like that
when she'd told Jase and Kate her Other Woman plan.
"The only mistake I made was hiring you,
Brad. Now get going."
For a moment, Poppy thought he would ignore
the order. But Alice met his gaze with a ferocious glare, hands on
hips and chin lifted, so formidable that Poppy wouldn't have argued
with her, and Brad climbed back into his truck and drove away.
Alice turned back to Poppy. "Sorry about
that," she said, apparently not at all upset.
Poppy revised her initial impression of
vulnerable sweetness and tried not to remember Jase's and Kate's
protests about how dangerous this job might be. "You fired him,"
she said.
Fired. The word tasted sharp, acrid, snapping
her back four weeks to the day her career ended. The day she,
professor, respected researcher, and cinch candidate for early
tenure, had been fired. If there had been any reason, any hint it
was coming... But no. She'd bounced into the dean's office
expecting congratulations on her new grant, and boom, she was
history.
"What did he do?" she managed in a thin
voice.
"A little light thievery. Improper advances
to guests. Not the kind of thing we want here. This is a family
place." She looked at Poppy with a skeptical expression. "Let me
show you to your cabin." She grabbed one of Poppy's bright red and
orange flowered suitcases and led the way to a path that meandered
down a gentle slope, past a weathered barn and some corrals, to a
row of pine log cabins.
Poppy hefted the other bag and followed,
trying not to let the so not-urban scenery intimidate her. Her
high-heeled red sandals wobbled on the gravel and she had to
concentrate to keep from breaking an ankle. Hadn't these people
ever heard of pavement?
Alice marched into the second cabin and threw
open a window, letting in crisp, sage-scented air. "I hope you'll
enjoy your stay with us," she said with all the enthusiasm of a
restaurant owner welcoming Typhoid Mary.
Poppy turned a slow circle and surveyed the
cabin with disbelief. Pine paneling, another rough stone fireplace,
and more dead things on the walls. "I know I'm going to love it
here. It's beautiful," she said, and winced at the insincerity in
her voice. "Just as perfect as the lodge."
Alice raised an eyebrow.
"And the scenery," Poppy went on. "I worried
when I got to Butte. Everything there is so—so—uh—and this is—the
mountains are huge, and the sky is so high it makes me feel small."
Even the untidy mountains had to be better than the endless scruffy
grayish bushes and miles of unmowed grass that had greeted her at
the airport in Butte.
You asked for it, so no point in whining
because it isn't Boston.
"I'm glad you like it," Alice said. "We
certainly do. Dinner's at six. Come up to the house whenever you
like." She left, closing the door gently behind her.
Poppy swallowed hard against homesickness.
She'd imagined Montana as a gentle landscape of green, rolling
hills and pastures. Instead… And where were the glossy horses and
handsome cowboys?
Family place
didn't sound like her ideal
vacation. Even supposing she survived fixing Tom's marriage so she
could indulge in a vacation.
After meeting Alice, she had her doubts.
She paced the one room of her cabin, avoiding
eye contact with a particularly dyspeptic-looking deer. Elk.
Whatever. "I want to go home," she told the snarling bear standing
in one corner. "I'm a professor. I have classes to meet. Research
to do. Pretending to be a bimbo who hits on married men is just not
me."
The bear didn't comment.
Poppy turned her back on him and went out to
her small porch.
What had she been thinking?
Simple. She hadn't been thinking.
She pulled out her phone only to find a dead
battery. Great. What were the chances this place even had a
telephone? She needed to talk to her best friends in the whole
world, her lawyer and her roommate. Her gaze caught an
old-fashioned black phone on a table in one corner and she sighed
in relief at the sign of civilization. She grabbed it and dialed.
Kate could supply moral support plus news from the legal front, the
best deal Poppy had found all day.
"Cunningham Law Offices," Kate said.
"Fire your secretary again? I made it to the
ranch. What's happening?"
"No, good, and I'm kicking university butt.
We have a meeting next week, and they're scared."
"Good."
"You will be reinstated," Kate said firmly.
"They can't fire you."
Poppy tried to laugh. It wasn't a success. "I
don't have tenure."
"I’ll fix it. But this crazy Other Woman
scheme isn't good for your image."
