Jed’s ranch wasn’t like some of the other prime land around these parts. His was barren, rocky, and open, just the way he liked it. A dull ache burning the back of his head worsened when he pulled into the dirt lot in front of his house, because parked beside his old Ford was the same silver SUV and redhead that had nearly run him down. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to say something. She must have recognized him, and he wondered if she was trying to find a way to escape like she had in town. He pulled up right behind her fancy SUV and shut off the engine, but, to her credit, she played it cool and held her head high, standing her ground as Jed took his time climbing out of the truck, hiking up his jeans over his slim hips, taking a deep breath, and reminding himself she was most likely one of those females prone to hysterics. He’d find out what she wanted and then send her on her way. Or maybe he’d let her stew for a moment.
“Small world, ain’t it? You lost?” The dust trailed around the truck and his worn boots as he took his time walking behind the horse trailer, really leaning into each step. The more he thought about it, the more pissed off he still was about the jam and the way she had damn near run him over. When he lifted the steel handle that secured the back door of the rusted single-stall horse trailer, the hinges squealed. He stepped in and murmured to Scarlett, who hung her head and tossed her tail, before he untied her lead rope and led her out, glancing at the redheaded beauty.
Her long, curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with strands dangling down over a creamy, pale complexion. The sight would have been perfect if he could have seen those dazzling blue eyes of hers, but she’d jammed on a pair of sunglasses. And damn if she wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She wasn’t that tall; the top of her head would probably reach his shoulders, and he, like all the Friessen men, stood over six feet tall and had wide, quarterback shoulders. But then again, each one of them had played football in high school. Andy, their cousin, had been the only one with the talent to go pro. Why he hadn’t done so, Jed would never know. Instead, Andy had taken it upon himself to stay in business with his dad. Or rather, to clean up after his dad.
But here stood this pretty thing, her toes painted a bright pink in her sandals and a perfect, slim, curvy body tucked nicely in a conservative, knee-length pink sundress with short sleeves and a scooped neckline that hinted at the treasure they covered, which, of course, teased Jed as he pictured perky breasts—breasts that he’d love to sample. He’d been too long without a woman, so he growled as he led Scarlett into the corral and glanced back at the knockout. But unless she was about to whip him up a batch of blackberry jam as good as what Emily had created with her magical touch, he’d rather she hop back in her SUV and head out.
He unlatched the corral gate and noticed her fumble a cell phone. Then she yanked open her driver’s door, but instead of hopping in, she tossed the cell phone on the driver’s seat and shoved the door closed.
“My phone’s dead.” She gestured to the SUV as she strode cautiously to the corral beside the small barn. He was still upgrading the building after having purchased the property at auction three years earlier on a whim when he was visiting his cousin, Andy. It was a rundown forty-acre spread with an aging one-story house, complete with a sagging porch and a three-stall barn that was held together with chicken wire and twine. Every year, he’d done more work. He knocked down the termite-infested porch on the house, refitted all the old cedar beams overrun by a colony of carpenter ants, and hauled out the rotting fruit trees that leaned against the house, providing a ladder for destructive pests. But he was far from done. His small bungalow, with its sawhorses, ladders, and piles of debris, probably looked more like a junkyard to her than the palace he thought it looked now. But then he didn’t mind the wooden box that served as the front step or the bare, wooden front door that was missing a screen. For him, it was home, and he owned every part of this paradise. All the work he’d done, he’d done with his own two hands, and he had bought it all with his own money—money he’d earned.
“Scarlett, come on, girl.” Jed latched the corral gate and slid the halter off the dark mare. Then he looped the rope and halter on one of the hooks on the faded barn wall. He couldn’t help himself as he stared at the fiery, attractive woman, who appeared to hesitate but was unafraid. Maybe it was the fact that he was missing a woman that had him watching her. But she didn’t flinch. She stayed where she was, looking awkwardly away as Jed dumped a fleck of hay on the ground for his horse and turned on a hose to fill the water trough.
After a few moments, he slid his hand down Scarlett’s side as she drank, and she neighed and flicked her tail. Jed left the corral and headed over to the pretty lady. Anyone else would have cowered or backed away from him, especially with the irritation he knew he was exuding. He unnerved people, or so he’d been told. He wasn’t one for small talk, just getting down to business, and he would just as soon tell someone to piss off than work out a peaceful solution. When he got like this, even his brothers were smart enough to walk away.
She took her time removing her shades and allowed her hand to drop to her side. She never flinched as she met his gaze. Jed nearly tripped over both his feet as he stared at the deepest blue eyes he’d ever seen.
“So, did you run over anyone else on your way out of town?” He spit on the ground beside him. He didn’t really care what she thought.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you, I was…”
“You mean you were texting on your cell phone instead of driving and keeping your eyes on the road. Look, lady, you’re damn lucky you didn’t run over and kill some kid. Keep your phone turned off and in your purse, or pull over and park if you need to use your phone, or powder your nose, or whatever the hell else it is you ladies do.”
She nodded and pursed her kissable lips before glancing at the ground for a second and gazing back at him. “Look, if I could just use your phone. I’ve apparently gotten myself lost. I just need to call my office again and find out where this quaint cottage I’ve rented is.”
“What are you looking for?” He didn’t move, and he realized his response was sharper than he had meant.
The foxy lady kept her cool and unfolded the piece of paper she had clutched in her hand. “It’s a small cabin, comes furnished, located on a ranch, Echo Springs II, and the directions I have here are to head down highway…”
Jed couldn’t believe his luck and didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing. He walked away and swiped his worn hat against his dusty jeans. “Well, lady, welcome. You must be Diana Fulton.”
Chapter 9
“What!” This time, she performed as any irate female would. She fisted her hands on her curvy hips. “Where’s the gorgeous shaded cabins, the lake, the green grass and rolling hills, or how about just some patio furniture? I’m going to kill her.”
“What the hell, lady? This ain’t some five-star resort. Take it or leave it. You want some upscale, fancy place, you’re in the wrong part of the country. No idea where you’d get a harebrained idea like that. I knew it was a mistake when some realtor called to rent one of my cabins to some woman. I generally only offer them to my customers before we head out on horseback.” Jed wasn’t going to admit to himself how he was counting on that money to cover some of the materials he ordered to get a new roof on the house before rain started. His mood wasn’t about to improve as he hurried in the barn, his worn boots scraping the cement floor. He was fighting against the urge to kick something, but he realized the plywood stall doors and almost everything inside was leaning or tied together with string or wire—it wouldn’t stay standing if he let loose.
“If I could just borrow your phone, please, I assure you I’ll get this straightened out and…” She was dogging his heels, and the whiff of her perfume was doing little to calm him.
He cut her off and growled, “Phone’s in the office in the back. This a local call?”
He didn’t turn around as he strode into a cramped room to an old metal desk, which had been shov
ed against the plywood wall, and pushed aside the stacks of bills and papers until he uncovered the old rotary phone. He lifted the receiver and made sure there was a dial tone before handing it to her.
She blinked a couple of times, probably in amazement that someone still had a rotary phone, something that would tie him down to one room. But the phone cost Jed not a red cent, and that was all he cared about. He hated those cordless phones, anyway, always getting lost. This way, he always knew where the phone was.
“Thank you. I’ll be quick. And it’s a toll-free number, so no long-distance charges. See?” She held up the printed piece of paper, which he couldn’t read from where he lingered in the doorway. He paused and watched when she bent over and dialed, and that was when he was treated to a hint that this woman could outshine all the New York models—if she wore some sexy low-cut gown, she would bring every man in a two-block radius to heel. No, she was even better than one of the skinny cover girls, because this foxy thing had some meat on her bones and wouldn’t break apart. He would bet his last dollar on it.
“Andrea, this is Diana,” she said into the phone.
Jed listened from the closet-sized tack room beside his office. The walls were a thin sheet of plywood and blocked no sound.
“Well, that’s just the thing. There has to be a mistake. I think you booked the wrong place or you gave me wrong directions, because where I am is in a shithole dustbowl.…”
He grabbed a wooden peg from a box on the floor, one he’d been meaning to hammer into the wall to hang for saddles. He wedged the peg into the hole he had drilled, grabbed a hammer, and banged it the rest of the way in, hoping… Hell, he didn’t know what he hoped. He just knew that this pretty young thing couldn’t see past her nose to all the work he’d done here, bringing it up from the rat’s nest it was when he bought it. Shithole dustbowl… Who did she think she was, looking down her nose at him and all he had? His life hadn’t been handed to him, which wasn’t something he could say of his brothers and cousin.
***
Diana felt panic lick the back of her throat as she stood facing the empty doorway, holding the disconnected receiver. She rested it back in its cradle and followed the noise to a closet beside the office, where the cowboy pounded a piece of wood into the wall before propping an old, worn saddle over two sturdy pegs. He didn’t face Diana, continuing to hang up tack, reins, and halters, and he grabbed a stack of worn horse blankets on the floor outside the closet.
“Well, did you straighten out your mix-up?”
She cleared her throat. “It appears it’s my mistake. This is what was arranged.…”
“Look, lady, are you staying or going?” He brushed past her and out of the barn, into the hot midday sun. “Makes no difference to me either way.”
He wasn’t sticking around to hear what she had to say, and her face burned at how rudely he had dismissed her.
Diana swallowed and strode out of the barn behind him. “I’m staying,” she replied.
Chapter 10
“My name’s Jed Friessen, and this shithole dustbowl is my place.”
Diana was positive she gasped out loud. He gave her a questioning look, so she quickly dropped her gaze, her face burning when she realized he was most likely related to Andy Friessen. That was when she really looked at the good-looking cowboy with the broad shoulders, long legs, and a butt that would draw the eye of every lady in the county. She realized there was some resemblance in the build, the same lean hips and waist. But Jed’s shoulders and chest were wider and more filled out than Andy’s. He had similar features in the harsh lines of his face, and he was big, most likely the same height. And he eyed her from head to toe with dark eyes, not blue ones. Maybe that was why she breathed a little easier. When he watched her now, she could tell he wasn’t a man you’d ever want to cross, so maybe, in some ways, he was exactly like Andy, and for a moment that worried her. But there was something about him that was different from Andy: the light brown hair on his square jaw and his cheeks, as if he’d not shaved for a few days. Andy would never let himself look so rough and dangerous.
“Here’s where you’re bunking. Cot in the corner. Outhouse is around back, outdoor shower beside it. Since you have no kitchen here, you’ll have to use the one in the main house for yourself. I’ll make room in the fridge for your food. But I won’t be tiptoeing around and worrying if I’m eating your food. I’ve got a group coming in that I’ll be taking out on the trail to one of the camps I’ve got next week. I train horses, and there’s manure around. So watch where you’re stepping. If it bothers you too much, grab a rake and clean it up.”
***
Diana stood in the narrow doorway of one of the tiny rundown sheds beside the house. There were three identical ones side by side. This one had a narrow board that she supposed served as the step. With one small window and no screen, it would be hot and stuffy at night. The cot was merely a wooden platform with a thin piece of foam against the wall. The room was so small that she’d bump the other wall if she bent over. There was no dresser, just a rickety side table beside the wooden platform and a couple hooks on the wall, with no mirror. She ignored Jed’s jibes at her inadequacies and decided there was no point in avoiding it, because she knew he couldn’t think any less of her. She’d already given him the impression that she was a mindless ditz. But she wasn’t. She had a brain in her head, and common sense, and she had learned to listen, too. She had fight and a sense of right and wrong. This backwoods shack had been the only place her realtor could find close to town that wasn’t owned or controlled by Andy and Todd Friessen. What she couldn’t figure out was how Jed was related to them or if he too would have her packing her bags, tossing her out in the night. She hadn’t come prepared.
“I didn’t have a chance to pick up any bedding … but I will tomorrow when I get into town and can purchase some supplies.”
“You rented a place and didn’t bring bedding?”
She felt her face heat, as she couldn’t tell him she’d been tossed out of her motel room and driven to the next town, over an hour away. She had expected—no, assumed—that her realtor had found her a furnished place that included linen and dishes, and she had somehow pictured a nice, rural place with trees, green grass, and lawn furniture so she’d not have to purchase anything.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t. I brought just my clothes, essentials. I just presumed everything would be here. You do have wireless internet access, right?”
He had to; everyone did. She would need it to start her practice and to stay connected in this fast-paced electronic age. The look he gave her would have had her taking a step back, but a quick glance over her shoulder had her gripping the edge of the doorway before she landed on her butt in the dirt, a few feet down.
“I have internet inside my place for my computer. No wireless. Sorry, you’ll have to make do without all your fancy gadgets.”
He brushed past her then and hopped over the narrow step to the dirt. She watched him as he strode to the small bungalow that was a work in progress, leaped onto the wooden box that served as a front step, and disappeared inside. Diana dropped onto the thin foam and lowered her face in her hands. Well, she’d probably have walked away from herself, as well. She had to deal with ditzy women all the time. Hell, Faye and Nina were the two other reasons she was here trying to gain respectability and show that she was organized, together, and not a taker. But she was afraid he was seeing a side of her that people expected to see, all because she was a Claremont, or at least she used to be. Wasn’t that exactly the side of herself that she’d shown him so far? She was interrupted from her pity party when Jed hopped up into the room and tossed a sleeping bag and a towel beside her on the foam mattress.
“It’s all I got to spare,” he said.
Her heart squeezed just a little. “Thank you. I realize you probably think I’m a mindless ditz. After yesterday in town and, well… This was all so last minute. I’m not like this,” she stammered.
This wasn’
t going well, because he was now watching her in a way Diana couldn’t read. She couldn’t explain more of who she really was and have him look at her the way everyone in town had, the way Andy did. But the man before her had a face as hard as steel. He controlled his emotions to a point, guarding what he was thinking better than anyone she’d met. So she just stopped.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll shut up.”
He pulled off his hat and ran his large hands through thick, wavy brown hair, hair that was so appealing she found herself wondering what it would be like to run her own hands through it. But then he frowned, as if reading her mind, and swept his gaze over her in a way that had her blushing once again. So she cleared her throat and quickly changed the subject.
“I’ve never ridden a horse. Always wanted to learn. If I pay you, will you teach me?”
He didn’t answer for the longest time, just watching her, maybe trying to figure her out. “I hope you packed something better than those sandal things to wear around here, because you won’t be stepping into the corral with that skimpy thing on, and you won’t be getting anywhere near my horse with those open-toed sandals.”
Diana clutched the skirt of her pink sundress and darted a glance at her bare toes. “I wore this for comfort while I was travelling today and because it’s so hot. Don’t worry; I did pack jeans, and I have a pair of hiking boots. Anything else I need, I’ll pick up in town when I go.”
“Well, then. Meet me by the barn in an hour, after you get settled, and I’ll introduce you to your ride.”
He left without glancing back. This time, when Diana stood and wandered to the open door, she didn’t try to hide her appreciation as she studied his butt and the way his faded jeans outlined perfection. If there were a buns contest for cowboys, she’d swear he would win, hands down. What pleased her more than anything was that her burning ache for Andy cleared just a little. Maybe there was hope yet that she’d get over him.
Outcast (The Friessen Legacy Series, Book 2), A Western Romance Page 5
