The Ranch Hand (6 page)

“I’m guessing you’re upset because he’s gone. I’m trying to think of a reason why he left.”

“What do you mean I’m upset? I have hot chocolate and a fire at my backside. Who could be upset?” She laughed to show how un-upset she was. It was a hearty laugh, and perhaps sounded a trifle deranged.

Her aunt smiled fondly. Her knitting needles clacked and ticked against one another. “You do a lot of things well, honey, but keeping a poker face is not one of them.”

“Doesn’t matter. And if he’s angry about not being able to rescue me…well then, he’s a fool. I didn’t need rescuing. I had the situation completely under control. I don’t play helpless. Not for anyone’s ego. ”

“Sometimes a man wants to rescue things.”

“I’m sure there’s a calf lost in the mountains somewhere that could use some help,” she snapped.

“Now, now. That’s not what I meant and you know it. Sometimes a man needs to feel needed, is all.”

“I needed some hot chocolate and he did fine with that. Don’t tell me that cowboy slunk away because he didn’t feel needed.”

“Why don’t you go ask him?”

She looked out the window again, suddenly uneasy and not because of the storm. “I just escaped the snow.”

Her aunt shrugged. A mysterious smile turned up her lips as she returned to her knitting. Her silence was telling.

“I didn’t think you’d encourage me to go chasing after guys in a blizzard,” Carol said, unwilling to let this go, yet hesitant about having to head back out into the cold. Not because she was afraid of the snow, but because she was strangely reluctant to confront him on this…and she didn’t understand why.

“Really? You’re the girl who was working on tractors and jumping off the highest rock down at Tolow Pond when you were eight. You’ve always done as you liked.” Her aunt shrugged again and shook her head. “Or perhaps something
else
is bothering him.”

“So he takes off? What kind o f way is that to deal with anything? That’s not the Harlan I know.” Or not the one she thought she knew, anyway. She was disappointed. No, she was hurt.

Her aunt kept her eyes on her knitting. She started to hum a tuneless little song.

Carol threw back the last of her drink, feeling it slide warm down her throat and into her belly. “All right. I’m headed back out into the surprise blizzard,” she announced loudly and to no one in particular. “To talk with our ranch hand who has mysteriously gone missing. As if he were abducted by aliens. Which is the only thing that will save him from my wrath.”

“You always did have quite an imagination, hon.”

Carol’s imagination grabbed the controls of her brain and got the best of her right now, feeding her images of her tromping to his trailer. She wondered what would happen if she walked right into his trailer and laid a soul-deep kiss on him. A thank you for the hot chocolate and a thank you for his concern about her safety. And from there…from there all kinds of very wicked things… His pulling her tight to him, sliding his strong hands down her back to grip her ass, his cock straining against his jeans, and she would rub against him, wordlessly urging him on—

No! Wrath. Focus on the
wrath
.

Anything else and she’d need another shower, this time a cold one to cool her off.

She headed back to the mudroom for her boots and coat. A minute after that she was out the door and buffeted by a gust of icy wind, snow blown in her eyes and down her collar. She slogged across the yard. Her boots crunched in the snow. The ranch seemed so quiet and isolated in the storm. She could only see the barest outline of the mountains. The distant rumble of a snowplow reached her from the highway road and that was it. She came to a halt, her breath clouding around her face, and she gazed around at the beauty of the scene, forgetting for a moment all the things she needed to do for her ranch, forgetting her annoyance at Harlan’s disappearance, forgetting the time she’d wasted digging herself out after some jackass ran her off the road. With the falling snow and the quiet, the ranch was so peaceful. A post card scene.

She wished he was out here with her to see it. To share it.

Again she trudged on, rounded the barn, passed the stables, and headed to the corrals where Harlan’s trailer lived. Snow covered the roof and stuck to the western side of the trailer, clinging to the windows and piling on the steps. His place wasn’t very big and certainly wasn’t glamorous. He had a lawn chair near a campfire pit in front of the trailer, and beside that, a small barbeque grill. A light shone from inside. She paused long enough to gather her courage and reignite her rumored wrath, and then knocked briskly on the door. Look at that. She hadn’t even pounded.

The door opened outward and Harlan leaned out. His smile was easy, but she saw the hesitation in his eyes. He knew exactly why she was here. “Enjoy your hot chocolate?”

She would’ve enjoyed it more if he’d been there with her. But that was too blunt, too risky to come right out and admit, even for her. “It was good. But then you took off without even a goodbye. What was that all about, Lee?”

He paused again, then seemed to decide something and pushed the door wider. “Come in.”

“Not if you’re going to hide in the bathroom, then crawl out the window and run away when I’m not looking.”

He frowned. “Funny.”

“You see me laughing, Tex?”

“Are you coming inside, or are we going to stand here and argue like damn fools in the middle of a snow storm?”

She made a show of considering her options. “Okay, fine. I’m coming in.”

He moved back to give her space and shut the door behind her. His camper was small but neat. His boots were arranged on a mat by the door, the snow melt puddled around them in a dark wet patch. Dishes actually sat drying in a dish drainer at his galley kitchen. There was a colorful Navajo rug on the brown carpet. She glanced down the narrow hall, toward the end of the camper trailer where his bedroom was. Even his bed was made. He had a Charles Marion Russell print hanging on one wall, a scene of a cowboy roping cattle. The whole place smelled of leather. And male. Two scents she happened to love.

“Please sit down.” He waved her toward the small kitchen table that unfolded from the wall. “Can I get you anything?”

“Hot chocolate.”

He stared at her. She could tell he was trying to read her, guess if she were just yanking his chain. Because she was.

“I don’t have any.”

“Don’t worry about it then.” She leaned back against the seat cushion. “So. Talk.”

“We have a fine herd this season. Good health. No disease. Shifted to winter feed a week ago, upping their nutritional intake for the cold weather. We’re looking at upwards of a ninety percent calving season—“

“Smart ass,” she interrupted. “Why’d you go and leave? I still wanted to talk with you.” She cocked her head to the side. “We’re you really pissed off you lost that bet?”

He shook his head and leaned against the galley kitchen counter. “Not at all.”

“Was it me?” She managed to say it without a hitch or quaver in her voice. She didn’t want him to know he’d upset her.

“Yes.”

She sat there for a moment, shocked. Then she stood. “I see. Guess I’ll just mosey my ass out of your way then. Been a real treat.”

He moved toward her and set a hand on her arm. Not a restraining touch, more of a gentle plea. His skin felt deliciously warm. “It
is
you, but not how you’re thinking. You’re angry. You have a right to be, I guess.”

“I’m glad you’ve conceded that much at least. I thought your leaving unannounced was rude and…strange. Now I think you’re being even ruder and
more
strange.”

“Wait, I…” He scrubbed a hand across his face. He scowled and looked out the snow-speckled window. He took a deep breath and faced her again, his gaze intense. “You distract the hell out of me, Carol. I want…hell, I want you. Thinking of you upstairs… It was driving me crazy.” He turned abruptly and moved away. But in the small camper there wasn’t much space for him to escape. He set his hands on the counter, his broad back to her. “But it’s not right. It’s not going to work. I’m going to ruin this.” His fists clenched. “That’s why I bolted.”

She stared at his back, the muscles visible through the fabric of his shirt. Her heart was pounding so hard it seemed to shake her entire body, as if it threatened to quake her apart. She hadn’t expected this. After their kiss, she’d hoped that even with her leaving there might still be possibilities for them, hoped that she hadn’t been wrong about his feelings for her. But she hadn’t expected him to give up and withdraw. She wasn’t going to allow him to leave it at that, either.

She set a hand against his back. He felt warm too, delightful heat coming through his shirt. His muscles jumped at her touch. He tensed, then relaxed. He turned toward her, caught her hand and held it in both of his. His hands were roughed and calloused. Again she wondered what they’d feel like, moving along her body, knowing they were
his
on her, his skin roughened by how hard he worked, and that tightened the desire inside her, making it an almost painful ache. She wondered how gentle he’d be. Or if he’d be fierce and powerful and overwhelming like an unbroken horse.

“I didn’t know,” she said. “I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s hard. Seeing you every day. Talking with you. Wanting to touch what I can’t have.”

She swallowed hard. “Why can’t you? I don’t understand.”

He let go of her and shoved his hands into his blue jeans. His gaze was fierce, challenging. “I’m a ranch hand. I live in a trailer.” His mouth tightened in disgust as he glanced around the small trailer. “All my money goes to my horse, my truck, or I save it. I’m not fit for you.” He clamped his teeth together so hard his jaw muscles bulged. “And I’m not a good fit for you.”

“You seem to know all about me. Know everything that might work for me. That’s pretty arrogant.”

“Your uncle owns this ranch. I only work for him. You’re about to head off to your own ranch and live your dream.” He was speaking quickly, and his words just came faster and faster. “And you know what, dammit? You’ll do fine at it. Hell, you’ll do great at it. You don’t need me. I don’t have anything to offer.
My
dream has always been to have my own ranch. Been dreaming that since I was a kid. I’m not even close, and you’re right there.” He shook his head and looked away. “I don’t have any damn thing to offer you.”

“And I can’t be the judge of that?” she asked quietly.

“You’ll go, and I won’t see you…not often anyway. Maybe now and then, but it won’t be the same. You’ll be busy as hell. This would never go anywhere.”

“I could use somebody to ride…with.” She grinned at him. There was a tightness in her throat and an ache in her belly that was cold as snow. The tension in the air built around them, until she was afraid any wrong word would spark a fire that might destroy everything, while the right word would kindle a different fire, full of heat and light and beauty.

He snorted, but her joke seemed to make him angry, not lighten the mood as she’d intended. “That’s just it. I can’t only live through you. I have to make my way. Earn my keep.” He looked at her, eyes intense. “You deserve more.”

“There’s nothing damn wrong with being a ranch hand!” she yelled, suddenly angry herself. “Stop tearing yourself down! I worked this ranch. Same as you. All growing up I worked it.”

“It’s different.” His jaw got that stubborn clench to it. “It’s different and you know it.”

“It’s not a bit different. I got lucky with the ranch. I understand that. You understand it and you’re too much a gentleman to say. I’m not offended by that. But I’ve worked hard for it too. Same as you. And if you need your dream—you want to achieve it, you go right ahead. I’d never stand in your way. But damn it, Harlan. That doesn’t mean we can’t…we can’t find out if this thing between us…” She swallowed hard again. It was as if she had an ice cube in her throat that wouldn’t go down and wouldn’t melt. “If this thing between us leads anywhere.”

For a moment she saw his resolve waver. She could see that he wanted her, that he was hurting despite the tough face he was showing her. He lifted his hand, as if to touch her. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He paused, his hand hanging momentarily in the air between them before he let it fall back down to his side. She choked back an anguished cry, not willing for him to know how much that had hurt her. He shook his head.

“No. No, Carol. I have to do this. For me.”

“You selfish bastard!” She wheeled around and stumbled for the door, feeling the tears burn her eyes and blur her vision. Feeling hollow inside, a great emptiness that nothing could seem to fill. She shoved the door open, knowing she must look absurd and foolish and not caring a bit. She slammed the door behind her and staggered out into the snowfall. It was still very quiet, only the fading echoes of the door-slam breaking the peace. She didn’t look back as she crashed and shoved through the fallen snow. She listened for him, but she didn’t glance behind her.

Nothing. No sound of pursuit. He wasn’t coming after her.

She couldn’t help it. She looked back and hated herself for it. No sign of Harlan. His trailer was still, snow speckling the sides, warm light spilling through the windows, and no sign of him.

At first she intended to head back to the house to…to she didn’t know what. Something to take her mind off of this and off of him. But the thought of facing her aunt again made her stomach sink with dismay. And being trapped inside, cooped up and claustrophobic and unable to escape her own whirling thoughts and emotions would drive her stone crazy. She veered away from the house, heading for the stables instead, and pulled her jacket tight around her against the wind-driven snow.

The door to Harlan’s trailer banged open, startling a gasp from her. She looked back again, but kept walking. He loomed in the doorway, big enough for his shoulders to touch either side of the frame. He stepped down into the snow, yanking on his jacket as he moved. His gaze locked on hers. Desire. She’d seen that look in men before. Need. A wanting so powerful it seemed to smolder in his eyes. A thrill raced through her, from her brain, electrifying her spine, down her to pussy and right back up again, warming her. She hesitated…then turned away and continued onward, clamping her teeth together so hard her jaw muscles ached. She wouldn’t run to him. She
wouldn’t
.