The Reluctant Rancher (17 page)

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Authors: Patricia Mason,Joann Baker

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: The Reluctant Rancher
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Luke hung his hat by the door and joined her at the stove.

I’m sure there are candles or lanterns around here somewhere.
 
I’m going to radio the ranch and tell them we’re safe.

Grateful for any activity that would take her mind off the conflicting feelings he could so easily arouse, she made a quick survey of the cabinet’s contents
. She found candle stubs, a tin of saltine crackers a
nd several packages of dehydrated vegetable sou
p
.


Well, at least we won’t starve,

she said as he finished his conversation with his grandfather.
 
The mare was still in labor but Joseph thought everything would be alright.
 
He told them not to chance coming home until morning.


Don’t go looking like that,

Luke laughed as she opened the tin and took a cautious bite, grimacing
at the stale taste.


Like what?

                                               


As if you’d like to take a bite out of something else.

Mary quirked an eyebrow.

Hmm, not a bad idea.
 
I’d give anything for a big piece of steak right now.
 
Even raw.

He smiled at her savage
expression.

If worse comes to worse, I’ll go get our well-fed friend and we’ll have a barbecue.


Luke Tanner,

she gasped.
 

You wouldn’t dare!


No,

his eyes twinkled.
 

I wouldn’t, but at least I made you smile.


Why shouldn’t I smile?


Exactly my point.
 
You’re alone in a cabin, miles from
any
where, with the richest man in the county.
 
Most women would give their eyeteeth to be in your position.
 
What more could you want?

 
He wiggle
d
his eyebrows suggestively.

What more indeed? Mary thought
as he searched the upper cabinets she hadn’t been able to reach
.
 
Maybe a wedding ring and a dark haired baby boy
.


A working commode would be nice
.

S
he
was
amazed at how normal her voice sounded.


Well, yo
u can’t have everything in life.”


Don’t I know it,

she mumbled.
 
Luke Tanner could have any woman he wanted.
 
Why should he want plain, overweight Mary Carter?

A moment late he held up a battered tin coffee can.
 

We’re in business, darling.
 
I’ll get us some
water before I change.
 
No sense
getting wet again.

Full darkness had fallen by the time he returned.
 

I’m glad we decided to head here instead of going home.
 
That rain’s freezing.
 
While this water boils, I suggest we get out of these wet clothes.

At her startled gasp, she saw his lips twitch in sardonic amusement.

Unless you prefer to catch pneumonia, sweetheart.

Mary clut
ched the neck of her wet shirt.
She had never let a man see her completely naked before, not even her doctor.
 
While comfortable with her size and shape in general, she was not prepared to bare herself to Luke’s eyes and show him each and every imperfection of her flesh.
 
Not yet anyway, she told herself honestly.
 
And she knew when – or if

she did, it would
be an act of commitment
on her part.

Trying to cover her nervousness, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, moaning as soon as the words left her mouth.
 

You don’t seem in any hurry to take off your pants.

He stilled, the candlelight cast a devilish gleam in his dark green eyes as he reached for the snap of his jeans.
 

Anytime you’re ready, lady.
 
Anytime.

She cleared her
clogged throat
and glanced
around wildly. “
Is there someplace I can change?

After several heat filled seconds, he
flicked
his han
d, indicating a room to the side. “
The necessity’s over there.
 
I’ll see if I can find something for us to wear while you dry off.

Mary hurried inside the small room
and stood
with her back pressed against the rough plank door.
To her, sex was more than a joining of two bodies.
 
It requ
ired the blending of souls.
 
Was Luke
ready for that kind of commitment
?

Just a few shards of light appeared around the edges of the door. She hadn’t
thought to
bring a candle with her. She’d been in too much of a hurry to escape the temptation presented by Luke Tanner. But she had no place to flee. Now she shivered
in the darkness, stark naked, with a half-dressed man on the other side of a flimsy wooden door.
Some improvement.

“Ma
ry?

She j
umped at the knock on the door.


I found us something to wear.

The door opened and his long, tanned arm appeared inside, a flannel shirt
dangled
fr
om his fingers.


Thanks.

 
She grabbed the garment and slammed the door shut, ba
rely missing his knuckles as he
moved his hand out of the way.
 
His soft chuckle mocked her haste and the reason for it.

She clenched the
pl
aid material to her breast and
willed the tremors in her body to go away.


Uh, Mary?


What?

“Would you like a candle?”

She opened the door just a crack and a candle and
the
box of matche
s
came through.

Thanks.”


Anytime, sweetheart.
 
Any time.

She
lit the candle
and t
ook stock of her surroundings. A
chipped enamel sink
stood
against the outside corner of the room
with
a battered
chamber pot wedged beneath it.
 
A stack of rough
looking towels
lay f
olded on a lone pine shelf. S
he used
one to give herself a
rub
down before donning the borrowed clothes.
S
he thrust her arms into the sleeves of the shirt he had given he
r. T
he cuffs completely engulfed
her hands.
 
T
he garment
must have
been left behind by a big man,
because it covered her from neck to mid-thigh. Thank God.

Her legs
did not make the most attractive picture in the world or so Mary thought.
 
She had learned long ago that the right clothing c
ould hide a multitude of sins –
especially her over abunda
nt thighs.
 
Oh, well,
not even her fairy godmother could change her now.

She picked up the candle and left the bathroom.
Luke
warmed h
imself by the stove
.


It feels good to be dry, doesn’t it?
” He’d changed into a pair of dry jeans too. He took her wet clothes and hung them on a nail by the stove next to his.


Yes, it does.

 
Mary tugged again at the bottom of the shirt as he turned around.
 
Awareness flared between them
and the air sizzled
with a degree of desire previously unknown to Mary.

Unable to hold his heated g
aze she
turned away. H
e had accomplished a lot while she’d hidden in the bathroom.
 
Two bowls and spoons sat on the surface of th
e well worn table.


I guess the next thing we need to do is eat
.” He turned
to the stove where the tin of water boiled.

She watched as he added the soup packets to the water and carried the fare to the table.
 
Unnerved by his
blatant
maleness, she sat down and focused her attention on the soup in front of her.
Not her brightest of m
oves.
Now his broad chest filled her vision.


Eat up, honey.
 
It won’t bite you.


Would you stop doing that?

Mary snapped. She was
overwhelmed by the feelings that flooded her mind and body.


Doing what?

 
Luke looked perplexed, his spoon poised half way to his mouth.


You know what.

She slapped her spoon against the table with a loud clank.
 

Don’t you know how demeaning that is?

Luke lowered his own spoon and placed it
beside his bowl.

The action only served to inflame Mary’s already volatile temper.
 
A temper caused by hormones raging out of control every time she looked at him.
 
S
he leaned toward him, unmindful of the way the simple action caused he
r shirt to gape open, giving
him an unrestricted view of her ample charms.


Um, sweetheart, I don’t think, you should…


That’s the problem with your whole gender, Luke Tanner.
 
You never think.
 
At least not with your brain.


And just what in your estimable opinion, do we men use to do our thinking?

Mary glared at him, hating herself for wanting
to give into the humor twinkling
in his eyes.
 
She didn’t know why she had gotten so angry.
 
Oh yeah, the little inner voice reminded her.
 
You’re alone with the man you lov
e and you're
 
very, very afraid.


You know,

she sputtered, determined to hang on to the last
shred of her ire. She hoped it would save her from an
embarrassing situation.

Luke leaned back in his chair
.

Mary’s eyes followed his movements, lingering
with mouth-watering approval on each bulging bicep.


You think it’s demeaning for a man to call a woman honey or sweetheart, or whatever, is that right?

His voice was deceptively mild and Mary struggled to pull herself together.
 
If he’d just put on a shirt she might make it through the night.
 
But she couldn’t very well
offer him hers, now could she? “
Demeaning?
 
Yes, I do.
 
And so do most other women.

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