by Jean Oram
Ryan shook his head. She was grinning, and he found himself grinning back and wondering once again if she was worth this risk to life and limb. He had a feeling he didn’t want an answer to that, because it might not make him happy if she truly had a husband somewhere.
Ryan focused on his task, working quickly to fix the broken wires and attach the new light, securing it to the pole before Carly could send him plummeting to the earth in a heap of broken bones.
“Okay,” he finally said, waving his hand as he sat on the platform, his work done. “Let me down. Slowly.”
When he reached the ground, he glanced over to find her still smiling. She was pretty when she smiled. No, she was more than that. She was distractingly beautiful, her toffee-colored skin glowing. Her short hair was different today, those tight, finger-length curls kept away from her face with a pink paisley band that somehow emphasized her high cheekbones. Her dark brown eyes sparkled and her wide, pink lips curved upward in an alluring fashion.
“You looked like a monkey clinging to that pole.”
He stepped off the platform onto solid ground, experiencing a fresh fear of heights as well as of Carly. “Next time you shoot your own light out because I’m admiring your figure, you’re on your own with the repairs.”
The smile vanished. “You’re reneging on your promise to help fix the goat pen?”
“You sent me home when I offered.” Her goats kept winding up in the yard at the Sweet Meadows Ranch, eating whatever was in sight. Including the seat of his pants—while he’d been wearing them. Last night he’d brought her small herd of five back over here and had offered to help fix their pen, but she’d refused.
“There was no light to work by,” Carly said.
Broken glass from the old light cracked as he shifted from foot to foot. “Why don’t we see if we got this working again? Want to flip the breaker?”
Carly turned off the forklift, slipped from the seat and headed to the house, where the circuit breaker was located. She was wearing jeans, a thick plaid jacket that snapped up the front and worn brown cowboy boots that had seen more action than just on city streets.
Ryan adjusted his hat and craned his neck to look up at the new light. It was crooked thanks to his haste to get back down to solid ground, but otherwise looked good.
While he waited, he picked up shards of glass, tossing them along with the broken fixture into the empty box.
A minute later he heard Carly call, “It works!”
He looked up at the glowing bulb as she joined him, her shoulder nearly touching his as she stopped beside him to admire their work. That was a change he didn’t mind, and for a minute it felt as if it was the two of them against the world, not alone. It almost made him feel lonely. Almost.
Carly was single. He’d bet on it.
So why the wedding band? Was it to make men think she was taken?
And what had encouraged her to buy a ranch in the middle of nowhere?
“Good thing you didn’t shoot me last night,” he said, his voice low as he took in details he hadn’t been able to in the weak moonlight. A faint hairline scar down her cheek near her ear; a mole near her upper lip. Those high cheekbones, and the skin around the edges of her lips a gorgeous brown-pink. Long dark lashes devoid of mascara. Natural beauty.
“I’m still debating whether it was a smart decision.” She flashed him a grin that lit up her eyes, brightening her entire face and almost taking his breath away.
He reminded himself that he was here for one thing, and it wasn’t a girlfriend.
He cleared his throat. “So. About my rental proposal.”
“What about it?” Carly asked. She was feeling happy with her new light, even though, technically, she found herself in Ryan’s debt yet again. First, for returning her goats and now for fixing her light. How self-reliant was she proving to be?
But the light had been his fault. And returning her goats was simply a neighborly thing to do. She could have retrieved them herself had she known they were out.
“Rent some stable space to me,” Ryan said, turning to her. The intensity of his gaze was disarming. “You can give me the first week free as a thanks for this.” He gestured to the yard light.
She let out an amused laugh. “For fixing something you broke?”
“You pulled the trigger.”
“It was your fault that I did.”
“This would have cost you several hundred dollars.” He tipped his chin toward the pole. “How about we call it even, with you providing the first two weeks rent-free?”
“Now you’re up to two weeks free?”
He seemed pleased she’d called him on that.
“Why would I rent out my stable?” she asked.
“What’s it earning you right now?”
“How do you know I don’t have plans for it?”
His head dropped slightly to the right and his blue eyes studied her like an expert poker player assessing his opponent.
Crap. He had her. She could tell. He had that way of seeing into her. She needed to keep him at bay so she wouldn’t end up doing something crazy, like kiss him or rub a hand along his strong jaw to see how it felt under her fingertips.
“You don’t,” he said, with a confidence that sparked flecks of amber in those blue eyes.
She took a step back, considering her response. He had a determination flickering under the surface that she identified with. He wanted this silly stable, and she knew he wouldn’t stop until she said yes. That made her want to keep saying no, no, no. She’d bent for others far too many times and suffered the consequences.
“Maybe I plan on demolishing it so I can put in a garden over there.” That wasn’t an entirely terrible idea. She planned to create a fully self-sustaining farm with solar and wind power. She was going to grow organic food, raise free-range animals and create her own little Eden. But buildings were always useful, and the stable was in decent shape despite years of neglect. Demolishing it wouldn’t be smart.
“It’s staying,” Ryan said.
His confidence was annoying. Especially since he was correct.
“Why don’t you want my horses here?” he pressed.
“Maybe your assumption is wrong,” she said sharply. They faced off with crossed arms. She caught a hint of fabric softener and aftershave when the wind shifted. He smelled like promises and hope. T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
“I’m never wrong.”
“Oh, I doubt that. I bet you’ve made at least one wrong judgment, especially where people are concerned.”
Something fluttered through his eyes before he shifted his stance and dug his heels in a tiny bit more.
There was a wound there. Scarred over, but still making itself felt. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one prone to poor judgments when it came to assessing another person’s character. Ryan wasn’t infallible despite his bluster, and it made her like him despite not wanting to.
“What’s your rental rate?”
They stared at each other for a long minute, and then he quirked his head as if to say he was waiting for an answer.
Okay, okay. She would rent out the stable; she just didn’t want it to be easy for him. She also didn’t want him to think he was the one determining how this would all work out.
She shifted her hands to her hips. “You want it for horses?”
“Yup.”
“And you mentioned the corral?”
He nodded, causing her to sigh. He wasn’t going to give up anything without making her work for it.
“Are you planning something illegal?”
Ryan gave her a dry look, his lips pursed.
Of course he wasn’t. She might have made some poor character judgments in the past, but she could tell Ryan was trustworthy. Annoying, persistent and challenging in every way, but trustworthy.
“As your potential landlord, it’s perfectly reasonable for me to ask your intentions. Especially from a Peeping Tom.” Her body heated as she recalled the hungry way he’d
gazed at her last night. It had been all she’d been able to do to not return his look with the same intensity and longing.
His eyes swiftly took her in from head to toe, setting her spine tingling again. “You had it on display, sweetheart.”
She let out an involuntary huff of indignation at the endearment, which sounded warm and sweet and full of promise, not as a word meant to put her down, hold her in place. She hugged her arms around herself as heat spread through her body. There was something about Ryan Wylder that made her feel alive. Something she hadn’t felt since Peter’s passing several years ago.
She shook her head. She wasn’t ready for this. Wasn’t anywhere close to letting herself need someone again. She had to learn to stand on her own two feet before she considered anything like that.
She shouldn’t have allowed him to fix her yard light. She should have sent him packing and solved her own problems. Now she was contemplating letting him come onto her property whenever he wanted? Less than an hour ago she’d vowed to avoid him.
She thumbed the wedding band on her finger—one completely unrelated to her former marriage—reminding herself to stay strong. Stay self-reliant. Her full commitment was to herself right now. Just because she’d taken a few steps backward didn’t mean she couldn’t find her forward motion once again.
“I don’t recall sending out invitations for a visual groping,” she said, with an edge to her voice. Her arms were still tight around herself, as though the pose would shield her from experiencing her own reaction to that stirring late-night gaze.
“A visual grope? If I was going to do that to a woman…” Ryan looked wounded, disgusted, his body shifting away from hers, and she could see she’d crossed a line.
“How many horses?” she blurted.
“Depends how many I can find at auction.” He was still giving her a wary look.
“You don’t have horses?”
“I have three.”
“Where are they?”
“With their original owners.”
“What are you planning?”
“Can I count on you, Carly?”
The way he said her name sent tremors down her spine. She wanted to say yes. She needed to say no.
It would be yet another bad decision to turn down the extra income. But it could be even worse to say yes to another business deal when she was still reeling from the last one, which had her lined up to get grilled in court next month.
“I’ll think about it.” She turned away, glanced up at the light again. The business deal she’d made with her friend Eaton had seemed great. It had served her country and put food on the table. But it had turned out to be something she’d be lucky to stay out of jail for being involved in. Recently she’d been downgraded to a witness, instead of being a member of the accused. As a result, she’d been subpoenaed for the upcoming preliminary hearing, and sometime in the New Year it would all be over. But in the meantime she kept waking up in a sweat, fearing that Eaton would manipulate the courts the same way he had their business’s finances, and she would find herself behind bars for something she hadn’t knowingly done. She’d worked hard to find the best prices so their food services contract would be renewed each year, but it turned out Eaton had found a way to turn that to his own advantage.
“We can write up a rental agreement, and if I breach any part of it I’m out,” Ryan said, his voice rising to carry to the goat pen, where she was bracing herself against the fence, her gaze unfocused. “I’ll stay out of your hair. Fix anything that breaks in the stable.”
“What would break?”
He shrugged when she turned. “I can give you references.”
“Isn’t there another stable you can rent?”
“You’re next door to the ranch.”
“Don’t you live in town?” She had taken a few steps toward him and now he made up the distance so neither of them had to raise their voice to be heard.
“How about I pay first and last month’s rent up front?”
“If even one check bounces, you’re out immediately.”
“They won’t.”
“What’s my responsibility to you and the horses?”
“You provide a safe stable and corral.”
“It needs work. It hasn’t been used in I don’t know how long.”
“That’s fine. Just allow me to use the corrals and stable, and provide access to a well with safe water. You’re hands-off.”
“Good, because I have a commitment that will take me out of town from time to time. I won’t be here to pick up your slack.” She couldn’t be worrying about things back here when she was being raked over the coals by the United States Army’s best lawyers.
“Understood.”
“You take proper care of your horses and know that you’ve rented the stable based on its current condition. You don’t get to make demands about changes or repairs, and if I don’t like how things are going, you’re out of here. No questions asked.”
He was smiling. “Fine.”
He’d gotten his way, hadn’t he? She’d caved somewhere along the line, just like both of them knew she would.
Carly sighed, frustrated by her inability to build a strong wall between herself and this man, then keep it fortified.
“What are the horses for?” she asked. “Are you training them for rodeos or something?”
“I don’t need a partner.”
“I wasn’t offering.”
They glowered at each other, neither willing to soften and give in to the other.
“Are you a horse trainer?” she asked, curious despite herself. What was it about him that made her want to learn more? Pry open his hood and take a peek inside to see what made him run? She told herself it was so she’d know what was happening on her own property, so she wouldn’t get blindsided.
“No.”
“How much traffic should I expect coming through my property?”
“Me and the trainer, daily.”
“What kind of training will you be doing?”
“Do you want me to rent the stable or not?”
“You avoid questions like someone’s throwing darts at you.”
He looked resigned. “You’re like my family. Always with the questions.”
She reached out and shook his hand, liking the way his grip was gentle yet firm. “When it’s ready to sign, I’ll drop the rental agreement off at the ranch.”
Ryan held her hand for a second too long, his eyes locking on hers. Then his hand was gone and he was placing his toolbox in the forklift’s open cab, and she was feeling a sense of loss.
“You’re training the horses for rodeo, aren’t you?”
He had hopped up onto the forklift’s seat and now stared at her. Her heart was beating faster than it should, and she was too aware of everything to do with Ryan Wylder. From his snug jeans to the breadth of his shoulders. From the set of his jaw to the intelligent eyes that gave nothing away regarding his thoughts. She found herself hooked, waiting to see what would happen next.
Then, to her surprise, the planes of his face softened and he said, “Is that going to be a problem?”
His head tipped lower as he propped his right elbow on the steering wheel. She had the sense of him leaning in, the warmth from his body traveling to hers even though over six feet separated them.
She drew a settling breath and peered up at those clear eyes watching her from under the brim of his black hat. He studied her with a care and depth she’d already come to expect from him. She once again had the feeling he saw more of her than she liked to reveal, and yet somehow that was okay.
“I know not everyone approves of rodeos,” he said, “but having me on your land while you build a reputation as an organic farmer likely won’t be an issue around here. Though if you feel it might, just say the word.”
She hadn’t even considered that. She’d been more concerned about having this delectable man frequenting her yard. Even now she was having trouble looking away from him.
>
There was a chance her priorities were slightly scrambled at the moment.
“Do you compete? In rodeo?” she asked. He didn’t seem the bull-riding type, although she could possibly see him dominating the cutting events, or possibly acting behind the scenes as a horse breaking expert. There was something about the way he persistently chipped away at her own walls that may have led to that assumption. And the man didn’t even seem to try. It was delightful, but also infuriating.
“Are you going to call animal protection services on me?”
“So it is rodeo, but you don’t compete.”
“Does it matter?”
“I’m trying to figure you out, and training horses for rodeo that you find at an auction is an interesting way to make a living.” He had to know what he was doing if he was picking up cheap horses with a plan to train them and somehow profit.
“Who said it’s for money or for rodeo?”
She gave him a look, and he had that softening you-win expression again that pleased her more than she figured it should. He made her work for everything and she enjoyed each triumph.
“With rodeo, you know they aren’t worth anything unless they have a couple of wins under their belts,” she warned. “Unless they’re from proven stock.”
“I know.”
“It’s gonna take a lot of work and money to get these horses up to where they’re paying for themselves.”
“I know.”
“Bulls, or other forms of horse training, would be easier to profit off of.”
“Yup.”
“You already have bulls, don’t you?” And maybe did some other form of horse training, too.
He gave a faint smile, something in his expression causing her to take a closer look. As she studied him she was struck by a realization that nearly slackened her jaw. Ryan Wylder was afraid. Afraid of something so familiar it sent a tingle through her nervous system. She could sense his fears: of being broke, of needing others, of not adding up to more than the skin you were in.
