The Traveling Kind (6 page)

“Hello, Chuck,” she greeted the owner of the neighboring ranch, her most patient and persistent admirer.

He took off his beige, felt Stetson in a gesture of old-fashioned deference to the presence of a woman. His white dress shirt emphasized the broadness of his thickening waist. A heavy silver buckle inlaid with turquoise protruded with his stomach. His face was ruddy from constant exposure to the sun except for a white streak across the top of his forehead where his hat had protected it. By no stretch of the imagination did he cut a dashing figure, yet he was innately good and kind—and devoted to Charley. His deep affection for her glowed with a gentle light from his brown eyes.

“Hello, Charley,” he returned the greeting and added, “You look lovely today.”

“Thank you.” It was strange how a compliment from Chuck Weatherby meant nothing to her. Yet if Shad had told her that, she would have beamed inwardly with pleasure.

“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked, then explained, “I was out for a drive and took the chance that you weren’t busy to stop by to find out how you are.”

“You aren’t interrupting anything,” Charley assured him. In fact she secretly felt he couldn’t have come at a better time. She had been strongly tempted by Shad’s company. “I was just walking off my Sunday dinner.’’

“Who is the man you were talking to when I drove in? I don’t think I recognize him.” He frowned as he glanced in Shad’s direction.

She followed his gaze and felt a surge of reluctant admiration at the sight of Shad’s muscled physique. A sheen of perspiration made his hard flesh glisten like polished bronze in the encroaching sunlight.

Charley attempted a casual reply to the inquiry. “That’s our new hired hand.”

“He isn’t local,” Chuck stated and sent her a questioning look.

“No, he isn’t. His name is Shad Russell— from Colorado, originally.” She realized what scant information they possessed about him, little beyond his name and previous employers. All a rancher needed to know about a man was whether or not he could do the job. She was curious about his past only because she was beginning to develop a personal interest in him.

“A drifter.” The disapproval of the breed was obvious in the tone of Chuck’s voice. “I thought you and your brother were going to hire someone local to help out.”

“There wasn’t anyone available,” Charley explained with an unconcerned shrug.

“You should have got hold of me.” He gave her a reproving glance. “I could have spared one of my men to help you this summer.”

“Then you would have been shorthanded, Chuck. No, this way is better.” She turned down his belated suggestion, because she didn’t want to be under any obligation to their neighbor no matter how well intentioned it was. She would have felt she owed him something even if Chuck wouldn’t.

He didn’t try to argue with her but his look narrowed with displeasure on Shad. “Your brother needs to have a talk with that man. A man shouldn’t be taking his shirt off to work when there is a woman present. It isn’t proper.”

“I imagine he didn’t want to ruin his shirt with grease and oil from that old truck. Besides, it doesn’t offend me.” Charley was careful not to smile at Chuck’s criticism and silently wondered if he wasn’t perhaps a little envious of Shad’s virile form. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on Chuck’s frame. It was simply that his muscles had settled around his middle! She doubted that Chuck had ever been built like Shad, even when he was younger.

“I still say it shows a lack of respect,” he insisted stubbornly.

“It’s getting warm out here in the sun.” With a change of subject, she directed his attention away from Shad. “Let’s go in the house and have a cold drink.” As she started to move toward the house Chuck was quick to follow.

“I know you want to chat with Gary while you’re here.”

“Yes, of course, I do.” His quick reply told her what she already knew. He hadn’t stopped to see her brother. It was her company he wanted. “How is he?”

“Much better.”

Gary was sound asleep on the couch, snoring his way through a rick of logs when they entered the house. Charley ignored Chuck’s protests not to disturb him and shook her brother’s shoulder to waken him. He stirred groggily, then spied their guest and pushed himself into a sitting position. Charley plumped some pillows and positioned them against the armrest to support his back so Gary could keep his broken leg stretched on the couch.

Gary stifled a yawn with his hand and smiled sleepily at his neighbor. “What brings you over here, Chuck?”

“I just wanted to see how you were getting along.” Chuck Weatherby lowered his stocky frame into the armchair that matched the blue-flowered sofa.

“Oh?” Gary slid a knowing glance at Charley. “I thought it might have been my sister that you came to see.”

She buried her brother with a killing smile. “I’m going to fix a cold drink. What would you like? Lemonade or iced tea?” Both men chose lemonade and she excused herself to go to the kitchen. “It will only take me a few minutes.”

As always happened whenever the two ranchers were left alone together, they became embroiled in a discussion of ranching, the livestock market, the effects of the weather, and this year versus previous years. It was something Charley had counted on and she wasn’t disappointed when she returned to the living room to serve them their glasses of iced lemonade.

While they talked around her, she strategically placed coasters on the coffee table in front of the sofa so the walnut finish wouldn’t be marred by water rings. Then she relaxed in the gold recliner with her glass of lemonade and raised the footrest. Chuck didn’t expect a woman to be knowledgeable about the subjects they were discussing, so she wasn’t obliged to take part in the conversation. Charley was content to sit in the chair and let the talk flow around her.

After about an hour the conversation digressed to the topic of politics. Charley daydreamed through most of it until she heard someone come in the back door of the kitchen. Aware that it had to be Shad, she stirred from the reclining lounge chair. Her movement attracted Chuck’s attention and she received a questioning look.

“With all this dry talk, I thought you might like some more lemonade,” she said.

He glanced at his empty glass and nodded. “Yes, I would.”

“I’ll bring in the pitcher.” She quietly exited the room.

Shad was standing at the sink when she entered the kitchen. He turned sideways to glance at her as she approached. He had put his shirt on but hadn’t bothered to button it or tuck it inside his Levi’s. It hung loose, giving her a glimpse of his bare chest. Swinging back to the sink, he turned on the cold-water faucet and let it run while he took a glass from the cupboard.

“I fixed a pitcher of lemonade,” Charley said as she walked to the refrigerator.

“No, thanks. I prefer water.” Shad filled a glass and drank it down, then turned to lean a hip against the sink counter and watch her. “Did your boyfriend come acourting this afternoon?” He nodded in the direction of the living room.

“He isn’t my boyfriend, but, yes, it is Chuck Weatherby from the next ranch,” Charley admitted.

“If he isn’t your boyfriend, it isn’t from lack of trying,” he observed dryly and ran more water into his glass.

She didn’t see any reason to argue the point. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“It’s only a guess, but I’d say your friend wouldn’t like it.” His mouth slanted in a wry line. “So thanks for the invitation, but I think I’ll pass.”

Charley didn’t try to change his mind because she knew he was right. His presence would irritate Chuck. With the pitcher of lemonade in hand, she returned to the living room. Stopping first near Chuck’s chair, she picked up his glass to fill it with the lemonade. He tipped his head in her direction.

“Did I hear you talking to someone in the kitchen?” he asked.

“Yes. Shad came in for a drink of water,” she admitted offhandedly to downplay any significance. Replacing Chuck’s glass on its coaster, she glanced at her brother. “More lemonade?”

“No, thanks,” he refused.

Charley refilled her glass then carried the pitcher back to the kitchen. While she had been out of the room, Shad had slipped quietly out of the back door. She glanced out the window and saw him crossing the yard to the machine shed. Fighting the twinge of disappointment, she returned the pitcher to the refrigerator shelf and rejoined Chuck and her brother in the living room. She quietly resumed her listening post in the recliner chair.

When the Black Forest cuckoo clock on the wall sang out half-past four, it roused Charley from her chair. “I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s time I started supper.” She politely hinted that it was time Chuck left, but her brother thwarted it.

“Why don’t you stay and eat with us, Chuck?” he invited.

Charley could have screamed. She tried to catch her brother’s eye but he wouldn’t look at her. Meanwhile Chuck was silently debating whether or not to accept.

“No. I’d better be getting home,” he said finally, and Charley nearly sighed aloud with relief. When he turned to look at her, she fixed a bright expression on her face. “I did want to invite you to have dinner with me Friday night.”

“I don’t know,” she stalled, seeking an adequate excuse to refuse. “We’ll be baling hay all this week. I’ll probably be too tired. Besides, I wouldn’t like to leave Gary alone.”

“Nonsense!” her brother scoffed at that reason. “I’m not an invalid. All I have is a broken leg, for heaven’s sake. You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. You need to go out for an evening and enjoy yourself.”

“But who would feed you?” she argued, wishing he would keep his mouth shut.

“Fix a casserole. Something Shad and I could warm up,” Gary reasoned with a twinkle in his eyes.

“It seems Gary has found a solution to your problems, Charley,” Chuck inserted. “Will you come out to dinner with me on Friday?”

It appeared that she had little choice. “Yes.” It was a clipped acceptance as she gave in to the pressure with ill grace.

A few minutes later, after Chuck had made arrangements to pick her up at six on Friday, he rose to leave. Charley walked him as far as the front door and watched him climb into his car and drive away. She was fuming when she turned to confront her brother.

“You really were a lot of help, Gary. With a brother like you, I don’t need enemies,” she snapped. “I’ve done everything but beat Chuck over the head trying to make him understand that I’m not interested in him. Then you go and force me into accepting a date with him.”

“Be practical, Charley.” He tried to calm her. “He wants to take you out and you need the outing, so what’s wrong with taking advantage of the opportunity? It isn’t committing you to anything.”

“I happen to like Chuck as a person,” she retorted. “And I don’t think it’s right to use him simply because he happens to be a convenient escort. It isn’t fair to him.” She turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen, sorry that there wasn’t a door to slam to vent some of her anger.

Charley was still seething when they all sat down to supper that night. The tension at the table was unmistakable. Sparks flew every time she looked at her brother. Shad eyed them both with a trace of humor.

“Is something wrong?” he asked finally.

Gary shrugged. “Charley’s sulking because I forced her into accepting a date with Chuck this Friday. She hasn’t been out of this house in weeks. I thought she needed to get away from here and let her hair down.”

“I can’t imagine letting my hair down with someone as conservative as Chuck,” she retorted.

“Maybe not,” her brother conceded. “But you haven’t exactly had a flood of invitations for dates lately. And beggars can’t be choosers.”

Fire burned in the look she gave Gary. “You’re lucky I’m not sitting on the other side of the table, because I just might be tempted to rebreak that leg of yours.”

“There’s nothing quite like sisterly love.” Her brother grinned at Shad.

An angry sound of exasperated disgust came from her throat as she rose from the table to fetch the dessert. There were times when her brother was absolutely impossible. Tonight was one of them.

The week that followed was hectic, every minute filled from sunup to sundown. Charley fell into bed each night, totally exhausted, and dragged herself out of bed each morning. By Friday there didn’t seem to be enough cold water to chase the sleep out of her eyes. Finally she gave up trying. She opened the bathroom door and walked straight into Shad.

“Oh.” It was a soft sound of delayed shock as she found her arms resting against the solid wall of his chest. She swayed backward unsteadily, trembling from the unexpected contact with his warm flesh.

“Steady, girl.” His hands closed on her shoulders to give her balance. There was a smiling light in his blue eyes as they ran over her upturned face. His look disturbed her with its caressing quality. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” His drawling voice lowered its pitch to an intimate level. “Good ole Chuck might get the wrong idea if he found out about it.”

Stung by his mockery, Charley broke out of his light hold and quickly sidestepped him. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she declared in a voice low with anger. But he only chuckled. “I don’t think it’s funny,” she said as she started toward her bedroom door.