Kept by the Cowboy Read online

  “Maybe you should go with me, to the reading tomorrow,” she said.

  “Maybe I already am.”

  The trail narrowed and he stopped his horse to let her go ahead. Her thoughts spun with confusion. The lawyer had called her a day after her grandfather died and set up the appointment to discuss her grandfather’s wishes. She’d assumed that she would go alone. Luke hadn’t said a word and his reticence annoyed her.

  He smiled with smug satisfaction. “Jerry Saunders asked me to come to the appointment tomorrow. Want me to drive you there, boss lady?”

  She rode her horse ahead of him and shook her head. The antagonistic tone was back. Two could play that game. “I planned on having you take me anyway. As the boss of the ranch, I should have a driver, don’t you think?”

  “I’d be happy to drive you.”

  His sultry voice sent a riot of unwelcome desire across her senses. She was out of her league, playing games with a man who clearly excelled at this sort of competition. They rode on, the horses working hard to ascend the ridge. Rachel’s reins brushed against the mare’s neck. A lather formed on her pretty gray coat. As they rode higher, the view spread out below them. Breathtaking.

  “What about here, Rachel?”

  They stopped and she looked around, taking in the natural beauty of the wild and rugged land. A stream flowed in the valley below, glinting in the sun. A grove of oaks grew in the bend of the stream and nearby a herd of her grandfather’s Black Angus grazed. She eyed the animals, with slow dawning that the cattle were hers now.

  “Beautiful,” Luke said.

  “Amazing.”

  She turned to look at him and found him staring not at the land, but at her. A flush of heat crawled along her skin.

  “After you inherit all this, you’re going to have men knocking down your door to call on you.”

  She smiled. “Call on me! That sounds like something from a hundred years ago.”

  His eyes darkened. “And I’m not sticking around to keep this ranch going for you and whatever fella talks you into marrying him.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. I told my grandfather a long time ago I’m not marrying. Ever. My mother is on husband number five, and I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to be a spinster. In fact, after the lawyer's, let’s go to the animal shelter so I can pick up a few dozen cats.”

  Part of her felt guilty for squabbling with Luke while she had her grandfather’s ashes in her saddle bag, but the other part of her thrilled at jabbing him with the spinster comment. His eyes widened with surprise. She recalled telling her grandfather and his eyes had gotten big, too.

  “You already have a bunch of cats in the barn. You wouldn’t know because you haven’t stepped foot in there. Or anywhere, really.”

  His superior tone galled her. If she hadn’t surveyed the property it was because she’d been busy making sure the utility bills were up to date, that oxygen tanks and Hospice supplies were picked up, and her grandfather’s staff showed up for their shifts on time.

  There was a lot to do, just inside the house. On top of that, she’d find herself overcome at odd times, like when she found her baby picture among his belongings. The evening before she discovered a Bible in his library, given to him by his grandfather. She alternated between keeping as busy as possible or weeping for a grandfather she would never know.

  Luke dismounted and clasped Misty’s bridle. Rachel slid out of the saddle, lowering herself carefully. It seemed as if her feet would never hit ground, but finally she landed beside the mare.

  “How in the world did I ever get up there?” she muttered.

  “You were standing on a rise by the barn. I led her there so it wouldn’t be such a long trip into the saddle.” Luke towered over her, a wry grin on his face. “I might need to put you in the saddle when we head back. Boss lady.”

  She gave him her best, most dazzling smile. “Good help is so hard to find. I might need to see about giving you a raise.”

  “I think you could easily give me a raise.”

  She huffed. “Could you please stop making inappropriate remarks? We’re here to scatter a man’s ashes. My grandfather’s ashes.”

  Furrowing his brow, he handed her the reins and got the container of ashes out of the saddle bag. “What are you going to do, just dump them out?”

  Rachel grimaced. “Shoot. I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

  “You probably want to stand upwind.”

  “Is that the best you can do?”

  Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve never done this before either. I’m just saying, make sure the wind is at your back so you don’t get covered in… well, you know.”

  “Really, Mr. I’m thirty-three and I know everything?”

  He shook his head. “You’re a little smartass. You know that?”

  Rachel unscrewed the lid and then stopped. She looked up at Luke. “I’m afraid to look inside.”

  He took the canister. “Why?’

  “It freaks me out. Why did he ask me to do this?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “This is bullshit, you know that? He didn’t do anything my whole life, other than send a check every Christmas, and he stopped when I started college. He said girls didn’t need fancy degrees. Who the hell says that? I had to work my way through, because my mother didn’t want to ask her husband de jour for money. Not that I wanted her to. And all along, Grandpa had a million acres and half the cattle in Texas and I had to take out loans and work my ass off. And now I have to take his ashes and scatter them?”

  “I know, it’s hard for you.”

  “He never wanted to see me.” She was yelling now, shouting at Luke like it was his fault. “I asked every summer if I could come visit and he always said no. Then he calls me when he’s got weeks to live? Weeks?”

  He sighed. “You want me to do it for you?”

  She drew a sharp breath as a wave of grief crashed over her. “I don’t know. He asked me to do it. But I don’t want to see a pile of ashes. It’s too awful. I’m afraid to even look inside. I don’t want to see.”

  “I can do it for you, Rachel,” he said quietly. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. If you cry, I will too.”

  His eyes unraveled a hard knot of anger and sadness and regret. He was teasing her gently and she felt the last remnants of self-control fall away as her eyes filled with tears.

  He looked down at the canister and unscrewed the lid. Studying the contents, he frowned.

  “What is it?” She wiped away a tear.

  “It’s not what I expected. It looks like crushed up gravel.”

  “Gravel?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “Kind of.”

  Rachel covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t do this.”

  He screwed the lid back on and took her hand. “Leave the horses. They won’t move.”

  She let him lead her to the side of the ridge, where the land fell away to a craggy slope.

  “Look, this is a pretty spot. The sun sets right there and he would have liked this. We have the wind to our back and we’ll do this together. You put your hand on the canister and help me pour while you close your eyes.”

  He unscrewed the lid and shoved it in his breast pocket.

  “Close your eyes, Rachel.”

  She did as she was told. He set her hands on the canister and covered them with his. Together, they tipped the contents out.

  “Okay, that’s it,” he said.

  She turned away and bumped into the hard expanse of his chest. She gave a small murmur of surprise but let him fold her into his arms and hold her. A shiver rolled through her body as she absorbed heat from his powerful body. As much as she hated the task of scattering Jed’s ashes, being held by Luke made it worth the pain.

  “I never heard Jed apologize to anyone for anything,” Luke said quietly. “But I’m certain he felt as much regret and sorrow as the next man. Maybe more. I imagine seeing you just made him miss
his son. That’s why he kept his distance.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to sob in Luke’s arms. Maybe if she focused on the way his powerful arms felt, she could avoid a total meltdown. His scent intoxicated her, strong, masculine and virile. He stroked her back and didn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop hugging her.

  “I guess it was dumb of me to expect him to say sorry,” she said.

  Luke turned and put his arm over her shoulders, leading her back to the horses. “Look at all this pretty land. This ranch has the best grazing of any place around. The creeks never go dry and you even have a few spring-fed pools that make the best swimming holes. Your grandfather meant for you to have all this, and maybe that was how he tried to tell you he was just so damn sorry.”

  She drew a trembling breath. “You’re going to make me cry like a baby, Luke.”

  He shoved the canister in the saddlebag and without warning, clasped her waist and lifted her onto the saddle. She managed to stifle a gasp and looked down at him with amazement. She wasn’t heavy, but she wasn’t a waif either, and he’d tossed her up onto the saddle like it was nothing.

  Standing beside the mare, he gave her a solemn look. “No crying, Rachel. Ranchers don’t cry.”

  Chapter Four

  Luke

  That evening after he’d eaten and showered, he got a text from Rachel, asking about the weather. Some of the cowboys had talked about a storm they expected to roll through sometime around midnight. She asked if that was still the case.

  Instead of texting back, he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, a shirt and boots, and went to Jed’s house. Walking up the path, flashlight in hand, he saw her moving around the upstairs, her slim figure casting a shadow against the curtains.

  Jed’s home had been built by his grandparents and probably hadn’t been updated in decades, or ever. Anytime Luke offered to have an electrician or plumber come look over the house, Jed shrugged it off, saying he didn’t want some stranger poking around his home.

  Luke knocked on the door, hoping he wouldn’t startle her. He should have texted her to let her know he was on his way, but he figured she would tell him not to come. That evening he’d worried about her, wondered if she was still traumatized by the trip to scatter ashes.

  He growled, thinking about Jed once more and how he’d put this responsibility on Rachel’s shoulders. It wasn’t fair to her. At least she’d end up with some property and hopefully a little money. His thoughts drifted to the way she’d melted into his arms. He hadn’t meant to hold her at all, and certainly not so long, but it seemed natural. Lord knew it felt natural.

  Her steps drew near and he reminded himself that although Rachel was lovely and sassy and made his blood heat, she was off-limits. Completely. He didn’t need to complicate things by trying to seduce his former boss’s daughter. She was too young. On top of that, she was fragile right now. He’d seen how her grief swept over her that afternoon. The memory stirred protective instincts inside him.

  She pulled the door open and smiled. “I’m sorry to bother you. Thunderstorms freak me out.”

  “Is that why you asked? Because you’re scared of storms.”

  “Pfft, putting it mildly. If I could get the Wi-Fi to work, I could look online to see how bad it’s going to be.”

  Wearing a robe, cinched around her narrow waist, her hair piled up on top of her head, and her eyes shining with amusement, she didn’t look the least bit like the damsel in distress. He didn’t care. He’d offer to be her shining knight regardless.

  “Want me to spend the night?”

  She put her hand on her hip. “Depends. Are you going to be a gentleman?”

  “You want me to be?”

  “Course I do. I can’t be messing around with my foreman. What kind of example would that be for the other cowboys? They’d all want to come for a sleepover and I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “Of course you’re not. And if any of them suggest something different, I’ll give them a black eye. Or maybe worse.”

  Her jaw dropped and she stared at him as if he’d just shared a heartfelt secret. She snapped her mouth closed and nodded slowly. “That, Mr. Hardeman, is exactly what I’m looking for in a foreman. A man who can protect me from thunder and untoward cowboys.”

  She gestured for him to come inside. “You’re hired.”

  He shook his head. Rachel might light his fire, but he wasn’t going to stay on and take orders from her.

  “I’m not working for you, Twenty-One. Over the next week, I have three ranches I’m looking at.”

  “How am I going to teach and run this ranch?”

  “You won’t be able to.”

  She huffed and turned away, leaving a hint of a floral scent. He followed her, not sure where she was going but he trailed behind, unable to resist her. His gaze dropped to her ass. Her robe was too thick for his liking. He’d have preferred silk over terrycloth.

  “You can have the guest room upstairs.”

  “Is that close to your room?”

  She cast him a disapproving look. “Remember you’re going to be a gentleman, right?”

  “I want to know where you’ll be in case the lights go out.”

  Stopping in her tracks, she turned to face him. “Does that happen?”

  Gone was her playful expression and in its place, was a stricken look.

  “At times.”

  She shook her head and proceeded up the stairs. “First thing I’m doing is buying a generator. If I can afford one.”

  He followed her up the stairs, imagining what the view would be like if she wore a short, lacy robe, one that barely covered the curve of her ass. Spending the night was a terrible idea, but he hoped there would be a few more stormy nights before he left for good.

  She stopped in front of the door and gestured toward the opening. “There’s stuff in there if you need it. I’d hoped my mother might come to visit, so I bought shampoo and toothbrushes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you need to go home and get…” her voice trailed off as she blushed. She cleared her throat. “Pajamas or anything?”

  “I don’t own any.”

  Her blush deepened. “Okay, well…great. Jed’s cook quit by the way, but I can make breakfast in the morning.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Good night,” she said, turning abruptly and hurried to her room.

  A short while later, Luke lay in the too-small bed and heard her voice coming through the vent. She sounded both sad and frustrated.

  “I know the land is worth a fortune, but I’m not selling. Not if I can help it.”

  There was a pause and he wondered who she was talking to.

  “You can come visit whenever you like. In fact, I’d love for you to-”

  She sighed and the floorboards squeaked. He could picture her pacing the room in frustration.

  “Don’t bring Edward. I don’t want to see him. He’ll just lean on me to sell too, Mom.”

  There was another pause and the sound of her footsteps on the old wooden slats grew silent.

  “Why am I the only one in the family trying to get a job, that’s what I’d like to know.”

  She muttered a few words and Luke supposed her mother had hung up on her. He turned in the bed, trying to fit himself diagonally in hopes of getting comfortable. Antique beds weren’t made for men who were six-four. Thunder rumbled off in the distance. He caught a murmur of dismay from the other room, followed by the sound of her running down the hall.

  The door burst open and she rushed to the bed, yanked the covers back and lay down beside him.

  The room was quiet. A drop of rain hit the metal roof. A ping here and another one there and suddenly a burst of rain filled the room with a steady drone.

  “I know this is weird,” she said over the sound of the rain. “I swear I’m not hitting on you.”

  At a loss for what to say, he laughed and scrubbed a hand down his face. His body responded to her immed
iately, a roar of lust gripping his senses. She lay, curled in a ball, inches from him, shaking so hard the bed quaked.

  “If this is how you’re trying to get me to stay on, it might work,” Luke said.

  “Please don’t make fun of me. I’ve been ridiculed for my strange phobias all my life.”

  “I wasn’t ridiculing you. Well, maybe I was, a little. I’ve never had a woman throw herself into my bed like that.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m sure. I bet they line up.” She tugged the blankets to cover herself and sighed deeply. “You won’t even notice I’m here. I’ll be quiet as a mouse and keep to my little corner while you hog the rest of the bed.”

  He turned to face her, curling his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. “I’m not hogging the bed. This bed was made for a nine-year old girl, not for a…”

  “Thirty-three-year old rancher with tattoos?” she interrupted.

  “Right. What else are you afraid of?”

  “Normal stuff. Thunderstorms. Heights. Public speaking. Cracks in the sidewalk.” She yawned. “But I took a quarter of one of my grandfather’s sleeping pills, so I’m going to be asleep soon.”

  Luke propped himself up on his elbow. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “I hate sleeping in a house by myself. I just took a little bit. If I’d known you were coming over I wouldn’t have. There’s a flashlight in the bathroom.”

  “Which bathroom?”

  “Every bathroom…I’m afraid of the dark too. Sometimes…”

  “Like when?”

  “When the sun goes down…”

  “Did something bad happen to you? Did someone hurt you?”

  He gritted his teeth, not wanting to hear about someone hurting Rachel and yet unable to keep from asking.

  She propped herself up on her elbow, mirroring his position. “Not someone, but something. A tree fell on our house when I was little. I didn’t get hurt but it was the scariest thing and I still have nightmares about it. I know. I know. It’s dumb. Just a tree after all, but there it is. I’m afraid of falling trees, too.”

  “That’s not dumb.”