“Actually, I think prison jumpsuits are gray now.”
“Oh? You’ve been incarcerated recently?”
“I only tell my really good friends about my prison record.”
“Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow then.”
She laughed, and he relished the sound.
The wind wasn’t any worse than usual, and the interstate wasn’t busy. They fell into an easy conversation about books they’d read, with Nell declaring Pride and Prejudice the best book of all time, and Ryder having to admit he’d neither read the book nor seen the movie.
“And you run a multibillion-dollar company? How? How can you run a company and be so out of touch with regular people?”
She was teasing him. He could tell by the quirk of her lip.
“I think you mean I’m out of touch with sappy, over-romanced women, in which case, yes, I’d have to agree with you. I don’t touch women like that with a ten-foot pole.”
She raised a brow at him. “That’s a good thing. I don’t think me and my ‘sappy, over-romanced’ comrades would appreciate being touched with your ten-foot pole.”
“It was a metaphorical pole.”
“I’m going to have to reevaluate our friendship if you keep insisting touching people with poles, any kind of poles, is okay.”
“Oh? Reevaluating already? Does that mean you’re going to bump me up into the ‘really good friend’ category where I get to find out about your prison record?”
“No. That means you’re going to be demoted to the level of ‘friend’ I only talk to when we meet in the grocery store checkout line. And since you’re a billionaire businessman who doesn’t do his own grocery shopping, that would be never.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Whoa. That was big.”
“You just called my tongue big?” she asked in mock outrage.
“If the shoe fits... And that would be a big shoe.”
She paused, her eyes steady on his. The laughter fading from her face. “You gave me a pair of shoes.”
He twisted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah?”
Her fingers twisted in her shoulder belt. “Why?”
“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Her eyes crinkled. “We’re friends, right?”
He knew his own eyes had to have a devilish glint in them. “So, I suppose if we were on the level of ‘really good friends,’ I might be able to tell you about the shoes.”
She tilted her head back, and her laugh filled his SUV.
Even though the road was completely deserted, he turned his turn signal on to pull into her driveway.
“Are we home?” Vinton asked sleepily from the back.
“Sure are, bud,” Nell answered easily.
“What were you laughing about?”
“Mr. Peterson was being funny.”
“Mr. Peterson? Really?” Ryder whispered.
Nell tilted her head toward him. “Grocery store checkout line.”
Chapter 13
Nell was glowing as she got out in front of her house. The two-hour ride had felt like a few minutes. She’d had a great time.
Vinton begged to be allowed to take Spencer to see the barn. After telling them they could go, Nell turned to Ryder. “Want to come in until they’re done?”
“Sure.” His teeth flashed.
Nell shouldered her bag and led the way into the house. She froze in the doorway. Bags of flour, sugar, and cocoa, along with shortening, vanilla, and eggs, sat on the table.
“Um, come on in. Not sure what’s going on.”
“Looks like someone is baking.”
“Nell is baking.” Beth walked out of the living room. Her eyes widened, then she smiled when she saw Ryder. “Hey, there. Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
Nell ignored her question. “I’m baking?”
“Yep.” Beth shrugged. “The ladies at the church are having a bazaar tomorrow afternoon and Saturday, and they wanted whoopie pies. I told them you wouldn’t mind.”
“No, of course not.” Nell had wanted to do some work in her own garden, and there were a hundred other things on her list to do, but she could make some whoopie pies.
Automatically, she pressed her irritation down. She couldn’t get upset. Not if she wanted to stay and take care of Vinton.
She enjoyed baking, anyway. Whoopie pies weren’t really pies, they were cookies with icing between them, wrapped in plastic. “When do they need them?”
“When do they need the whoopie pies, Brit?” Beth hollered without taking her eyes off Ryder.
Nell moved into the kitchen. “Come on in. You can sit at the table. I’ll get it cleaned off.”
“I’ll help you,” he said, moving behind her.
Brit showed up at the doorway. “Mrs. Weyer wants them at the church at nine tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, okay.” She’d have to do it this evening, but that was okay. Nell picked up a bag of flour. It seemed like an awful lot of stuff on the table. “How many does she want?”
“A thousand,” Brit said, unaware of how Nell’s heart catapulted out of her chest. “I told her it wouldn’t be a problem for you.”
“Oh, and by the way,” Beth said, “Reggie is taking me out tonight, then tomorrow he’s visiting relatives in Fargo, so I just wanted to make sure you know you’re doing the feeding tonight until Sunday evening.”
Nell swallowed. Now that she noticed, Beth did look all fancied up.
She looked at all the dirty dishes in the sink. She’d need to wash them before she could start making whoopie pies.
“And before I forget, Vinton’s room smelled stinky, so I took the sheets off his bed and put them at the top of the stairs.” Beth came over and pulled a seat out at the table.
“You don’t need to cook for me tonight, either, since I’m going with Beth.” Brit sat down beside Beth.
“Did you get any meat out of the freezer?” Nell asked automatically. She tried to calculate in her head how much time it would take to make a thousand gobs. If she had to feed first...
“Nell has worked all day.”
Ryder’s voice startled her. He sounded irritated.
“It’s okay.” She didn’t want Brit and Beth to get upset. That couldn’t happen. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is. They just dumped two days’ worth of work on you, and they’re leaving.”
Beth’s brows went up, and her head lowered. That look never meant anything good for Nell.
“I want you to fix my hair before I go,” Beth said, with a challenge in her eyes.
Ryder’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to realize he needed to stay quiet.
“Oh, mine too.” Brit pulled the band out that had been keeping her hair up.
Nell seemed to have a knack with arranging hair, just like she could arrange flowers. But her sisters had already given her as much work as she could do.
“I’m sorry. You two will just have to do your own hair.”
Their eyes narrowed.
Nell looked over the table at all the ingredients piled high. “If you do the dishes and the laundry, so that all I have to do is the feeding and the whoopie pies, I might be able to fix your hair.”
Beth pursed her lips, thinking. She wasn’t always reasonable, but Nell knew she really wanted her hair done.
“Okay,” she finally said.
“How long do we have?” Nell asked.
“An hour.”
She nodded. That was enough time. “I’ll run upstairs and grab your stuff. You two get those things done before I start on your hair.”
“I’m going to walk out to the barn.” Ryder’s voice was gruff, and there was no smile on his face.
If Nell had to guess, she would have said he was angry.
He walked away without saying anything more.
She didn’t have time to worry about him. She ran upstairs and grabbed her sister’s irons and hair products while they grumbled but started on their chores. Every
thing she needed to do spun through her mind.
She plugged the irons in and set them on the counter, pulling a chair over to where she usually worked.
Beth sat down in the chair, while Brit washed the dishes, and they chattered some about what they did all week and the latest celebrity and local gossip.
“Oh, Dad said they’re moving him farther up north to a new well, and he’s not going to be home in time to take us shopping.” She gave out a bored sigh. “So I’ll have to use your dress.”
Nell’s chest squeezed. Her body flushed hot then cold. That wasn’t fair! But either Nell could give permission now, or Beth would go to her stepdad, and she’d end up with the dress anyway. Nell could protest, of course, but she didn’t want to take the chance that Tom would tell her it was time for her to find her own place. This was definitely not something that Beth would let go.
“Ouch,” Beth squealed.
“Sorry,” Nell said. She forced her hands to loosen and tried to pay attention to what she was doing.
“And your shoes,” Brit added.
Nell couldn’t think of anything to say. She couldn’t tell them no. Most of the time, she’d trained herself not to care. She had to give them what they wanted, had to do what they wanted, had to keep them happy doing whatever it took. But her dress? Her shoes?
“Ouch.” Nell stuck her finger in her mouth for a moment. The curling iron was super hot. There would definitely be a blister.
With all the preparations they were doing for the ball, she knew it was going to be beautiful. Magical. Roxie would see to it.
Nell knew she’d normally never be able to go to something so grand. But with the dress and gloves and mask that Rem and Elaine had bought for her—and Ryder’s shoes—for once, she had been going to have something beautiful.
“We’re the same size, so I knew it would fit, but I tried it on anyway and hung it back up in my closet.”
Nell bit the inside of her cheek. She was stuck here. For Vinton. The anger and injustice that buzzed like a chain saw in her chest needed to be shoved aside.
“Good. I’m glad it fits.” She pushed the lump in her throat down and tried to diffuse the scraping pain in her chest. “I have a room upstairs in the house. I’m sure you can use it to get ready that night. That way you don’t have to ride for two hours in the dress.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “your” dress.
“I’ll stay overnight the night before.”
“Of course.” Nell squeezed the handle of the curling iron and unwound a springy curl. She allowed it to lay over Beth’s shoulder and fall down in front, and she tried not to think about the dress and the ball.
She knew it was rigged. Ryder planned to choose Michelle. But it would still be a beautiful, magical evening.
And she would get paid to serve at the ball. She’d make money while everyone else was having fun. There wasn’t much satisfaction in that thought, but she tried to tell herself that’s what she wanted. That she’d be earning money that would help Vinton and her escape from under then thumb of her sisters.
The boys ran in just as Nell finished up with Brit’s hair.
“I think you’re good to go.” Nell squeezed the hairspray button and waved it around Brit’s head.
Brit held up the hand mirror. “Wow. I look great!” She set the mirror on the table and stood.
“I think I hear Reggie’s car.” Beth went over to the window and looked out. “Yeah. He’s here. Don’t wait up,” she called, tapping Vinton on the head as she left and giving Ryder a wink.
Nell thought he might have missed it since he wasn’t looking at Beth as she swept by. He was too busy glaring at Nell. She gathered up the hair products and instruments, careful not to touch the hot irons. “I’m going to run these upstairs. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a sec.”
“Hey, Nell. Is it okay if I take Spence for a ride on Babe?” Vinton asked, referring to his horse.
Nell paused on her way up the stairs. “Keep to a walk and stay near the house, okay?” Babe wouldn’t go faster than a walk unless they made her, and she was calm and sweet.
She started back up the steps. She could hear the rumble of Ryder’s deep voice but couldn’t hear the words. The boys said something, then the door clicked closed.
Nell set the hair things down, and went back down, grateful that her sisters had done the blankets for Vinton’s bed at least.
Ryder stood in the doorway to the kitchen, dark shadows on his face.
Nell took a deep breath and stopped with plenty of distance between them. “We’ve only been friends for two hours, and you’re angry at me already?”
His lips twitched. “It’s been three hours, and yes, I’m angry.”
“Oh. Three hours? Then it’s okay.” She pressed forward. “I need to get started with the whoopie pies.”
He took hold of her upper arm. Not hard. But it stopped her.
“Are you a servant here?” he asked roughly.
“No, of course not.” She kept her eyes lowered, not wanting to see the anger on his face.
“Why was the sink full of dirty dishes, supper not ready, clothes not washed, a truckload of baking to do, apparently, and you’re standing in the kitchen fixing their hair so they can run around all night, and you’re acting like this is normal. What’s going on?” His words were short, like quick jabs on a punching bag. He wasn’t yelling, but there was no doubt he was angry. “As your friend, I’m telling you this is wrong.”
“You don’t understand everything,” she said firmly. She pulled her arm away and pushed through the doorway.
He moved, allowing her to go, but she could feel his eyes on her.
He stood with legs planted and arms crossed over his chest when she’d gotten Vinton’s used laundry from the four days on the ranch started.
“Make me understand.”
She threw a package of frozen hamburger in the microwave, grateful the dishes had been done. Supper first.
“You’re pushing the boundaries of our friendship.” She got the mixer out. “My life doesn’t concern you.”
“You’re allowing them to walk all over you. Treat you like less than a servant in your own home.”
“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with being a servant. The last shall be first, eventually. But more to the point, I don’t have to answer to you.”
He grunted a sigh.
She jumped when his hand landed on her shoulder. “I care about you.”
Turning the water off, she whirled around to face him, her stomach angry like the whirling of wheat in a storm. “You know what I don’t understand?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Let me tell you.” She crossed her arms over her boiling chest. “There’s going to be a ball at Sweet Water Ranch in just a few weeks. Your sister told me that it’s so you can fulfil the stipulations of your inheritance and choose a wife.” She lifted her brows in question.
His lip pulled back, but he nodded slowly.
“Michelle is going to be the woman you choose.” Again, she lifted her brows.
He nodded, even more slowly.
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” She emphasized each word.
He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but when he answered, his words were calm. “You and I are friends.”
“Right. Friends. But if someone wanted to marry me, I’d be pretty jacked if he were spending the evening with a female ‘friend’ instead of me.”
“You don’t understand.”
She smiled and softened her tone. “That makes two of us.”
“All right, I can explain.” He tilted his head. “If you will.”
“Yes.” She nodded to confirm it.
“Deal.” He moved forward. “I’ll set the table because I haven’t got a clue what you’re doing with whatever you put in the microwave. Thankfully the dishes are done. I’ve never washed dishes before I landed at your house, but it’s not that hard.”
Shock immobilized her. The
n she laughed. “You’ve never washed dishes?”
“Nope.”
“Wow. Someone led a sheltered life.”
His laugh vibrated down her back. The more time she spent with Ryder, the more she liked him. And that wasn’t good.
“You’re not planning on staying in North Dakota, are you?” she had to ask.
“Just for a year,” he said easily. “But you’re first. No more questions for me until you explain to me why your sisters treat you like an indentured servant.”
“There’s no indenture. I think those had a limit of seven years, didn’t they?”
“You’re splitting hairs. Speak to me.”
“This ranch was my mom’s. It’s been in her family for a lot of generations. I don’t even know how many. But she grew up here and loved it.”
Nell flipped the meat and turned the microwave back on low power. “She married my dad, and he died when I was little.” She had a few memories of him, but the pain of losing him wasn’t nearly as sharp and deep as the pain of losing her mom. “But of course, she married again. Tom had Beth and Brit from a previous marriage. My mom got sick then died, and the ranch is Tom’s.”
“I don’t feel like you’re telling me anything.”
“That was the background. You need it. Be patient.”
“I’ve been waiting patiently for a while.”
“You’ve been waiting impatiently for five minutes, tops.”
“I don’t think we’re going to come to an agreement on that. Just keep talking.”
“I was trying to, but then you interrupted me.”
“I won’t interrupt you,” Ryder said in mock exasperation as he gently set a dish down on the table.
Nell was tempted to tell him he could set them down a lot harder, but she got back to her story.
“Vinton, of course, is Tom and my mom’s son, my half brother. My dad’s gone a lot, and my mom was sick for a few years, and I’ve been the one mostly raising him.”
“I’ve noticed he’s almost more like a son to you than a brother.”
“Yeah. That’s why I haven’t left. I promised my mom when she first became sick. Vinton wasn’t even in school yet. She wanted me to take care of him. I loved my mom, and I could never tell her no, but also, I love Vinton. He lost his mom, and Tom, for all his faults, truly loved my mother, I think. Her loss was really hard on him.”
Cowboys Don't Believe in Fairy Tales Page 11
