Wind River Wrangler

by Lindsay McKenna

  Roan pointed to his left. “See that single-story house coming up on your right? The yellow one with white shutters?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s where you’ll be living. It’s one of the employee houses.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, feeling excitement building in her. “I’ve always dreamed of coming out West.”

  The vibrancy, the thrill in her low, husky voice, riffled across Roan’s flesh. He glanced over and saw her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were shining with joy. She was incredibly alluring. And his lower body heated up some more. Damn. What the hell was going on here? Roan tried to remain immune to Shiloh’s enthusiasm but it was impossible. One moment she could be a mature adult; the next, childlike and unafraid to show how she felt. Shiloh rolled down the truck window, sticking her head out as they passed a couple of wranglers riding sleek horses.

  “Are you looking at the wranglers or their horses?” Roan asked drily, pulling in and parking in front of the main office.

  Laughing airily, Shiloh said, “I’m single, but I’m not desperate.” She thought she saw some jealousy in his eyes. No, that couldn’t be true. It was her inability to read a person accurately. The stress. The relief that she was free of her stalker made her giddy. Roan probably thought she wasn’t acting her age. She’d always been like this, but he didn’t know that. “And to answer your other question, I was looking at those incredibly gorgeous horses they were riding.”

  Roan gave her a quirked mouth response as he put the truck in park and turned it off. “Ever ride? Maybe in Central Park?”

  “No. The closest I got to a horse was when my parents took me to a fair. I was seven and I got to ride a pinto Shetland around in a circle. I was in heaven,” she sighed, giving him a smile. Shiloh could see he wasn’t used to spontaneity.

  “Good to know,” Roan said gruffly. “Stay put. I’ll open the door for you.”

  He was really old-fashioned! Shiloh sat impatiently, wanting to get out, smell the air, look around, and simply absorb everything about the ranch into her five senses. As Roan opened the door for her, she looked up at him. “Has anyone ever accused you of being a throwback to a bygone era?”

  One eyebrow lifted. “As in a Neanderthal? Oh, wait . . . Cro-Magnon?”

  She burst out laughing, loving his dry sense of humor. No smile; just a glint in his eyes that told her he was teasing her. “I was being nice.”

  “I’m a realist.” Roan held out his hand to her.

  This time, Shiloh took it without hesitating, finding his manners touching in a world that had lost some of its social veneer. Roan had it in spades. “Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly as he released her fingers. She could literally feel the heat of his body; they were inches apart. She inhaled deeply, his masculine scent mixed with dust and sweat. Heat tore down through her and she gazed up into those gray eyes that studied her in the building silence. He wanted her. The thought was shocking. What was more shocking and disconcerting to Shiloh was she wanted him! Flustered, she quickly moved away.

  Roan shut the door and motioned to the wooden steps. “Thatta way.” He stood back, watching the way her hips moved and he could feel himself thickening. The woman should have a license for the way she moved in such a natural, graceful sway.

  Swallowing hard, Roan scowled and headed up the stairs to open the screen door for Shiloh. What a helluva fix. Now he was going to be teased by her twenty-four hours a day. Not that he thought Shiloh was a tease. She wasn’t. Their bedrooms were separated by a hall. Dragging in a deep breath, Roan opened the screen door for her, gesturing for her to walk into the office.

  Roan introduced her to Steve Whitcomb, the owner, who gave her a warm smile of welcome and a hearty handshake. He stood back when he saw Maud come rushing out of the second office, her arms open wide, a huge smile of welcome for Shiloh on her face. He glanced over at Steve, nodded good-bye, turned, and left. As he took the stairs down to the gravel driveway, he was damned glad he had to work the rest of the day. First, he’d take her bags of groceries over to the house and put the items in the cupboards. That way, he wouldn’t be tempted to stare at Shiloh like the slavering wolf that he really was. Mouth tightening, Roan climbed into the pickup and drove it over to the main barn. What the hell was he going to do with a beautiful, available woman under his roof?

  Chapter Three

  “Welcome to the ranch,” Maud said, her voice emotional as she threw her arms open to Shiloh and hugged her gently and then released her.

  “Thanks so much for having me, Maud.”

  “Oh, honey, I’ve been wanting you to come out for a visit for a long time. You look exhausted,” she said, patting her arm. “Let’s get you over to the employee house. I think you might want to rest for a while?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Shiloh murmured, squeezing Maud’s strong, darkly tanned hand. “It’s just the stress of travel.”

  Maud led her out of the office, plopped her ever-present red baseball cap on her head as they walked down the stairs. “I think it’s six months of awful, accumulated stress on you, Shiloh, that has you so tired.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted, giving her a smile. They walked across the asphalt road and down a red-tiled path that led to the three yellow employee houses sitting in a row. Gazing upward, Shiloh loved the fluffy white clouds over the valley, the magnificent Salt River Range still clothed in white snow off to her left. “I already feel better just being out here, Maud. Your ranch is incredibly beautiful. It’s so green, so alive.”

  Maud smiled. “Did Roan find you at the airport in time?”

  “He sure did. About scared the crap out of me.”

  “Oh?”

  “He came up behind me and called my name. I about jumped out of my skin.”

  Maud smiled. “Did he tell you he was in black ops? U.S. Army? A Special Forces weapons sergeant?”

  Rolling her eyes, Shiloh said, “No, but it sure explains why he came up behind me so silently. I never heard or felt him coming. He’s pretty close-mouthed.” And then she laughed a little. “Well, if he was black ops, why wouldn’t he be that way? Right?” She grinned over at Maud, who chuckled.

  “He’s a good man. Smart. Loyal. And he’s a darned hard worker. Roan’s been with us for two years.” As they took the left fork where the path split into a Y, Maud glanced up at Shiloh. “You remember I told you that you’d be sharing the employee house with one of our wranglers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Roan is the one. Are you okay with that?”

  Her heart beat a little quicker. He was so sinfully male. His masculinity was making her lower body ache and reminding her how long it had been since she’d made love. Shiloh saw Maud give her a concerned look. “Oh, it’s fine. He was very nice.” And her lips lifted. “I told him he was very old-fashioned.”

  “Cowboys are made that way. Knights from a bygone age,” Maud agreed. “But you’re comfortable with him being there?”

  Shrugging, Shiloh said, “Fine. Not a problem.” There was no way she was going to tell anyone how drawn she was to Roan. Heck, she couldn’t even explain it herself! Placing her hand momentarily on Maud’s shoulder, she said, “I’m just appreciative you’d let me come out here and roost for a while.” Shiloh could see the concern in Maud’s eyes dissolve. She didn’t want to worry her mother’s old friend. Roan was an adult and so was she. Of course, she didn’t know what Roan thought of her, but she knew how her body was sure reacting to him. Shiloh wasn’t going to tell Roan a thing. Whatever was going on, was obviously one-sided.

  Roan was rough around the edges. Untamable. Look, but don’t touch. Because Shiloh felt that if she ever kissed him, he would take her and there would be no stopping his sweet assault upon her. She would melt like a marshmallow over an open fire. Roan had masculine power around him to burn, and although she wasn’t afraid of it or him, it made Shiloh circumspect. He was a man who played for keeps, her instincts told her. At least, that’s what her life e
xperience told her. She didn’t own an encyclopedia on the male of the species, or even how to find, keep, and grow a relationship. For a writer who wrote happily ever after, her love life was a sad story of continuous train wrecks and loss.

  As Shiloh walked into the employee house, she fell in love with its size, high ceilings, and open-concept kitchen–living room. “Wow,” she murmured, looking around. “This is great, Maud. It’s so open! So light.”

  “Typical Western style of living,” Maud assured her. “I’m sure Roan told you that he wasn’t the chief cook and bottle washer around here? That you two split all the kitchen duties and keeping the house cleaned up?”

  Grinning, Shiloh followed her into the living room. It was laid with gold and red cedar flooring, a few colorful Western motif rugs here and there, lending more color. “That he did. I’m fine with it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll work out something with him. He’s pretty flexible.”

  “I didn’t get that impression at all.”

  Maud grinned. “He’s a tough, closed-up hombre, but he has a good heart. Roan’s kind to animals, so I’m sure it crosses over to being kind to humans, as well. All the tourists who come here seem to like him a lot.”

  “Okay,” Shiloh teased, “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Here’s your bedroom,” Maud said, gesturing into it. “It’s right across the hall from where Roan sleeps.”

  Inwardly grimacing, Shiloh stepped into the room. “Ohhhh, this is gorgeous, Maud. It looks like vintage nineteen-thirties decor! I love it!” She turned. “You do know I love that era, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t, but I do now. Go on in.”

  Shiloh stepped into the room. It had a colorful water lily–designed Tiffany lamp up on a walnut dresser. The bed had a crescent-shaped walnut headboard and was covered with what looked like a Depression-era quilt, a real patchwork quilt that had been hand sewn. There was a light green velvet settee made of walnut, the legs curved and elegant. What caught Shiloh’s eye the most was a gorgeous vanity. It had a sun ray beveled mirror held in place by walnut on either side of it. She loved the fact there was a large rolltop desk in one corner with good light above it. “This is perfect for me to sit and write,” she said, gesturing toward it.

  “We have a large office here you can use if you want,” Maud said. “I’ll show it to you, but if you want to sit in here and create, that’s fine with me.”

  “I love this room,” Shiloh murmured, moving her hand along the old quilt. “There’s just something about the Depression era, having so little, yet the gorgeous handmade furniture that came out of that period still stands the test of time to this day.”

  “You’ll love the bathroom more,” Maud promised with a grin.

  Following the older woman, Shiloh smiled. “This is like a hotel, Maud. A shower, bath, and a Jacuzzi. What more could a girl want?” Indeed, cedar wood glowed warm and golden beneath her feet. There was a huge glass-enclosed shower big enough for two people along with two huge, circular rain-shower nozzles. The bathtub was from the 1930s and sat up on brass claw feet. On the other side of the vanity was a hot tub big enough for four people.

  “Oh, I thought you being a writer and all, a good hot soak in a Jacuzzi would get you to relax and put your brain in neutral for a while,” Maud teased. “Be sure to pour yourself a glass of wine, set it on the side over there, and life’s good.”

  Running her hand along the gold-and-black-swirled granite counter, Shiloh appreciated all the thoughtful additions to this bathroom. “Really, this is heaven, Maud.” She gave her a warm look. “I should have come out here a long time ago.”

  Maud slipped her hand around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “You always have a place to come home to, Shiloh. That’s what I really wanted you to know.” Maud gave her a softened look. “I know your aunt and uncle are still nearby in New York City, but I’d like to think that you’re ours by proxy.”

  Touched, Shiloh slid her arm around Maud’s shoulders and whispered in a trembling voice, “Thank you, Maud. You have no idea how badly I wanted you to say yes to me coming out here. I was at my wit’s end.”

  “I know you were. Maybe things will slow down out here for you and you can get back to writing. We’re a busy ranch but the tourists who visit us weekly are on the other side of the road. They won’t be coming over to these homes to bother you, so no worries. We’ve got a nice white picket fence around each of them to give you privacy and there’s a lovely alcove out back, away from prying eyes, that you might want to take advantage of. It faces toward the Snake River in the distance.”

  Emotion swept through Shiloh as she gave the woman a grateful look. “You’ve given me so much, Maud. I hope I can repay you someday. Do let me know if I can help out. Do some work? You aren’t letting me pay for staying here, so I feel I have to do something to carry my weight.”

  Maud gave her a sly smile. “You said in your phone call you wanted to see what it was like to be a cowboy. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “On days that you feel up to it, go with Roan for part of a day. Ride with him.”

  Gulping, Shiloh said, “Oh, I don’t really think he’d be open to that.”

  Shrugging, Maud said, “He rubs off on you after a while.”

  “Does he know this? That I can tag along with him?”

  “Sure he does. All you have to do is speak up. It’s his job to take care of you while you’re here with us.”

  Grimacing, Shiloh muttered, “I bet he sees me as a babysitting job.”

  Chuckling, Maud said, “Ask him.”

  Sure. Roan just invited an open dialogue. Not. “I’ll think about it, Maud. I don’t want to be a pain in the ass around here. I know I’m a city slicker.”

  “Honey, you could never be a pain in the tush to anyone even if you tried real hard,” Maud murmured, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Now, if you’re out riding around, you might feel a pain there, but that’s because you haven’t rode before. And the more often you ride, your body will stretch and just naturally accommodate and you won’t be stiff and sore anymore.”

  “Right now,” Shiloh said longingly, “I just want to crash and sleep on that beautiful bed.”

  “You go right ahead,” Maud encouraged. “Roan usually gets in around six P.M.”

  Glancing at her watch, Shiloh saw she had two hours. “Great. I’ll catch a nap.” She hugged Maud. She was deeply tanned, wiry, and tightly muscled. Maud wore a cowboy shirt of blue and white plaid, the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbows. In her back jeans pocket, Shiloh spotted a pair of well-worn leather work gloves. She knew Maud was fifty-five years old, but she looked forty, young and vibrant. Her black hair was threaded with streaks of silver, but on her, it looked stylish with her square face and those pale green eyes of hers that missed nothing. When Maud settled her cap on her head and waved good-bye to her at the door and left, Shiloh sighed, smiling tiredly as she looked appreciatively around the quiet home.

  It felt like a heavy blanket was descending upon Shiloh as she decided to put her clothes and other items away after she took a nap. Sliding her shoes off, she lay down on the bed. The thought as she closed her eyes was that she was safe. Finally. And within moments, Shiloh spiraled into a deep, healing sleep.

  * * *

  Roan walked into the employee house at six-thirty P.M. The day had gotten cloudy and it looked like it might spit rain sometime tonight. He looked around after entering, thinking he’d see Shiloh. The house was utterly quiet. Roan wasn’t sure he was looking forward to seeing the woman or not. His body sure as hell wanted to, but he didn’t. There was no place in his life for a woman right now. He had too many other irons in the fire. Still, her red hair, that glint in her forest-green eyes, beckoned to him whether Roan wanted to admit it or not.

  Walking in, he quietly shut the door and dropped his gray Stetson on a nearby wooden peg. First, he had to get a shower. Filthy with dust because he’d helped some wranglers herd cattle in
to another pasture, Roan wanted to get the grit off his skin.

  As he ambled down the wooden hall, he lightened his walk, seeing the door to Shiloh’s room open. Frowning, he slowed to a stop. She was asleep on the bed, curled up into almost a fetal position, on her right side. Seeing how deeply she slept, as if she hadn’t rested easily for quite some time, Roan began to understand the stress created by the stalker, and how it had deeply affected Shiloh. Flexing his hand into a fist and releasing it, Roan thought he would like to get his hands on the bastard who had tortured her nonstop for six months. Even in sleep, as his gaze moved from her long legs up across her curvy hip to her breasts and then to her face, Roan could see subtle lines of tension throughout her body.

  She had an attractive oval face, a stubborn-looking chin, some strands of her red hair dropping across her smooth brow. Her lashes were long, curved against her high cheekbones. She slept with her hands beneath one cheek and it stirred his heart. Childlike was a word that came to mind when Roan gazed at her freckled cheeks and nose. It was her mouth, the perfect, sensual shape of it, that his body reacted to.

  Roan felt himself stir. Cursing silently, he stepped in and pulled the door closed. The less he saw of Shiloh, the better off he was going to be. Running his fingers in an aggravated motion through his short hair, he stepped across the hall into his bedroom. Worse, he had inhaled her sweet, feminine scent. He’d spent too many years in danger and his senses were finely honed. He could pick up an odor and know if it was Taliban or not a hundred feet away from where they were hiding. Her scent reminded him of a wildflower meadow that sat near the cabin he was building and it was playing havoc on his body. Damn.

  Emerging from a hot shower, Roan changed into a pair of clean Levi’s and a black T-shirt. He traded his cowboy boots for a pair of hiking boots. As he walked past Shiloh’s door, he listened, but heard nothing. All her luggage that he’d put in her room was exactly where he left it. She was exhausted. That realization twinged at his heart.