“What do I have to do to get you down off that horse, Lainie?”
“I don’t think you’re going to get me down off this horse, Reed.”
She realized she’d dared him. She also realized that if this was the way she was going to play it, she needed to get out of there. Pronto. He turned and walked toward Irish.
She stroked Glory’s neck, watching Reed’s back. “You’re thinking you’d have a better chance of getting these reins from me if you were also mounted.”
“Can’t get anything by you, can I.”
At least he was honest about it.
“Bye,” she said, and urged Glory away, careful to give Reed a wide berth. When he quickened his pace toward Irish, she stiffened, ready to dig her heels into Glory. But then Reed turned back, grew still and just watched her.
Much of their gear already lay upon the ground, but that wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d wanted to give chase. And the distance to the ranch was enough that Reed’s experienced horsemanship would allow him to overtake her. At his decision not to push, she felt a curious mixture of relief and disappointment, which led to another curious mixture of confusion and irritation.
*
Nelly gave Lainie a quick second look when she arrived by herself. She dismounted and proceeded to tend to Glory. She offered no explanation and he asked no questions, but she noted the growing amusement he wasn’t trying to hide, and she guessed that he’d figured it out. She hurried through ministrations to Glory, wanting to get out of there before Reed arrived, and not caring if Nelly figured that out or not.
She halfway expected her riding teacher to look her up once he returned to the ranch, but he kept his distance. At supper that evening, Reed was a couple of people ahead of her in the buffet line. She speared a piece of chicken fried steak, added mashed potatoes and country gravy, and spooned up some peas. The day’s outing had given her an appetite. She added a wedge of apple pie, its aroma making her mouth water.
When she took the chair next to Reed, he glanced sideways at her. It might’ve been wiser to have kept her distance as well, but there was something she needed his permission for.
“That picnic lunch today surely was lonely,” he said, voice flat.
She cut into her steak. “Were you able to manage everything all right? All...uh...by yourself?”
Reed gave her a look that said, huh? Then he laughed. “Tarnation, Lainie Sue, but you sure are pushin’ it.” When Reed used her full name, it carried a musical sound. He sliced his biscuit, placed a slab of butter in the middle, and ate it in two bites. “Hope you understand I’m not givin’ up on you.”
“Hope you understand I already figured that out. And that’s why I’m going to avoid being alone with you.”
With his fork cutting into his slab of apple pie, he slanted a glance at her. “Your loss.”
His voice had turned flat again. She agreed with the statement—and felt as lifeless about it as he’d sounded—but no way was she going to tell him so.
Once he’d finished the pie, he pushed his chair back.
“I rode home by myself today,” she said before he could get away, and then she propped her elbow on the table and her forehead on her fist. That was a stupid opener. And she caught the look Randy sent their way. He blushed and went back to his meal. Apparently Nelly wasn’t the only one who knew how to put two and two together.
“Is there a point here?” Reed asked, voice cool. “Other than the obvious?”
She looked up. “What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to start riding by myself and not have to keep finding someone to go with me. What do you think?”
“You can handle it. You want to be on your own, then you’re on your own. With my blessing.”
He walked away. She didn’t look after him. She’d caught both his impatience and the double meaning, wasn’t surprised at either, nor was she happy about it. Despite her resolve not to allow a relationship to form, it’d happened anyway. And was just as tough dealing with as she’d feared.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackie Lyn stood in front of the doorjamb leading into her kitchen. In her left hand she held a plastic tub that had once contained margarine, but now held an inch of Teal Glow paint, and in her right hand was the tiniest paintbrush Lainie had ever seen.
Wrinkling her nose, Jackie said, “Love the look of a freshly painted wall but never liked the smell of it.” She dipped the brush into the paint, delicately brushed it against the inside lip of the margarine tub, then applied it to the door casing.
While she worked on the trim, the less experienced Lainie was rolling the wall. Fortunately, the floor was covered with a plastic tarp; at first glance, one might think Lainie was painting the tarp instead of the wall.
“Got too much on your roller,” Jackie told her. “Roll off the excess at the top of the pan there.” Putting her tub of paint down, she walked over, took the instrument from Lainie and demonstrated. “You want just enough to cover the roller. Not enough to drip. See?”
Lainie saw, nodded without enthusiasm.
“By the way, got an invitation for you,” Jackie said as she went back to her own job. “My mama and daddy have been wantin’ to meet you so they invited us both over for Sunday dinner.”
“Oh.” Lainie’s mood brightened. After seeing the picture of Elizabeth and Margene, she’d been wondering how to wrangle an invitation out to the Cooper place in order to meet the person who might have been her mother’s best friend. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
“Can pretty much guarantee Randy will also be around. He doesn’t miss many Sunday dinners with his intended.”
Lainie’s roller was again dry, and she frowned. She had an AA in business administration, knew how to run and read spreadsheets, amortization tables and balance sheets didn’t intimidate her, but that pan of paint did. “Can I bring something next Sunday? Dessert, maybe?”
“Nope. Mama’s not gonna let you lift a finger. You need help over there?”
“No, I got it.” She dipped the roller into the paint, barely coated it, and rolled it back up over the ribbing. It was getting easier, but she was grateful they were only doing one wall. She stepped back to get the contrast of the teal wall in the otherwise ivory room. Not bad. “You’ve got a designer streak in you.”
“It’s fun. And doing my own upkeep saves a bundle. The Winslows knock fifty off the rent, but it doesn’t cost me that much to plunge my toilet when it needs it and paint my walls.” She straightened, gave the door a slow up-and-down look, then knelt to touch up a spot near the floor. “They didn’t think a woman could do it on her own, but I showed them I could.”
After a pause, she went on. “Getting back to Sunday, I should warn you my folks are retired. And, as Bobbie puts it, ‘have entered reminiscence.’”
“Remembering the good ol’ days? Nothing wrong with that. They’re entitled.”
“Yeah? Let’s see how gracious you are after your ears get so tired your eyes turn glassy.” Jackie gave her a you’re-in-for-it grin. “Ever since I told them you’re working at Lone Tree, Mama’s been talking about Elizabeth Ann Auburn, Miles’s daughter. They were also friends and Mama says it’s like history repeating itself.”
“Yeah? Well, put that way, I have to agree.”
That night, as sleep eluded her, Lainie’s speech resounded through her mind. Her statement had been lighthearted, but made her feel heavy. She’d worn guilt like a weighty coat, it seemed, ever since she’d first sat down to write the resume she’d then delivered to her grandfather.
Although she suspected that on some level she would always harbor mistrust of Miles Auburn, she was veering toward acknowledging their familial relationship. If he were a more forgiving soul, she’d have already done so. They could start over again with a clean slate, give them each a chance to be family to the other. But along with his southern, good ol’ boy charm, Miles had an exacting side. He wouldn’t suffer a dissembling granddaughter with grace; once she admitted her iden
tity, she just might have to be ready to head for home, and she wasn’t yet ready to clear out.
Too often, Lainie felt like a hamster running in one of those bubbles and never getting anywhere.
In resignation, she punched her pillow, and then rolled over and got out of bed.
She pulled the drapes aside, looked outside at the still night, and wondered if a walk might clear her head. She slipped into jeans, pulled on a sweatshirt and put her sneakers on. Stepping outside, she breathed deeply. The night air was clean, fresh, invigorating, exactly what she needed. Hugging her arms she looked at the sky, starlit and endless, unmarked by even an airplane, then she slipped her palms into her front jeans pockets and walked.
When she reached the elm outside the stable, she stopped and stared at the sky. Big country, tranquil night, brilliant moon lighting up the darkness. Tilting her head, she looked for star formations. The big dipper should be—
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” The voice was male, exasperated, and almost on top of her.
She whirled. “What—”
Reed clamped one hand over her mouth and the other around her arm. “You don’t have to yell. You want to wake up the whole bunkhouse?”
She tried to jerk away. He held on just long enough to show her who was boss, then let go. She staggered backward, then stomped right back to get in his face.
“Just what,” she demanded, keeping her voice down, “do you think you’re doing?”
“I asked first. You got a sudden hankering for a midnight stroll?”
His hair was wet. He must’ve gotten out of the shower, seen someone out here, and had to get dressed all over again in order to investigate. No wonder he was in a bad mood. But she still didn’t like being manhandled, physically or verbally.
“Yes,” she said. “I mean no. It’s not even eleven o’clock yet. And it’s none of your business anyway.”
“It’s not? You’d best rethink—”
“You told me yourself nobody ever bothers anybody out here.”
“Lainie—”
“Back off, cowboy. If I want to take a walk, I’ll take a walk. What harm is there in that?”
He drew in a controlled breath. “I’m thinking the greatest harm you’re facing right now is from me. But I’ll try to control myself. Now I want you to—”
“I’m fine, thank you very much. And I’m not afraid of you.”
“You’re not, huh. Well, you’re half right. It’s not a two-legged creature you should be afraid of.”
“Oh. Cougar?” She was suddenly very glad of his company.
“Well, now, that’s one possibility.”
Her gaze darted everywhere before she realized he wasn’t carrying a rifle and that he appeared more aggravated with her than worried about wildlife. She straightened her shoulders. “They don’t come this close to the house.”
“Really. Well, now, as long as you’re sure. And have you given any thought, I wonder, to the legless variety of varmint?”
“Oh.” So that was it.
“What’s with you, anyway?” he said, and she wondered if he was aware his voice was steadily rising and he was now the one in danger of waking up the bunkhouse. “You think I’m making this up?”
“Snakes...are nocturnal?”
“You want to count on it that they’re not?”
Oh. Well...
“Or maybe you’re interested in finding out what a scorpion sting feels like?”
Though she tried not to, she dropped her gaze to the ground, as if she could actually tell if something were slithering or crawling toward her in the dark.
“Ahh. It dawns on her.” He ran his hand down his face. “It’s been a long day. Okay, Lainie, you can go on back now.”
Really? How nice of him to give her permission like that. Oh, yeah, she was heading back—as fast as she could—but not on his orders. Her chin lifted. “There’s nothing keeping you out here that I can see.”
“Lainie,” he said wearily, then his body jerked up straight. “We are through discussing this. You are going inside...now...under your power or mine.”
“I will walk all by myself, thank you very much, when I’m ready. And I’m not quite ready yet.”
“Really,” he said slowly, dragging out the word. Then he nodded. “Guess that’s just fine by me after all. Considering I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for a long time now.”
The purr in his voice warned her, yet she remained still. Something about Reed Smith in a bossy mood made her dig her heels in. “One of these days, cowboy, you’re going to go too far.”
“Too far?” he echoed.
In the silence that followed, the air itself seemed to alter. Electricity charged through it, sexual electricity as sudden and powerful as a bolt of lightning. His eyes, taking on a hint of cobalt in the moonlit night, locked with hers. Tugging, pulling, drawing. Lainie swallowed, her nerves tightening, and her breath quickening until it seemed she had none left.
“Too far, huh.” His voice was a mere whisper, and it carried an undercurrent, one as old as time. When his hands closed around her shoulders she felt his heat, but it was no longer heat born out of anger.
“Reed...”
“Yes?” Now his voice was like a caress, and she suspected she might’ve been safer with his previous mood. She searched for a subject, anything, not caring what they talked about as long as they were busy talking.
“How did you know I was out here?”
His gaze lit on her hair, eyes, settled on her lips. “I saw a shadow, too short and slight to be anyone but you.” He pulled her closer, fingers flexing gently around her shoulders.
Her senses were filled with his height and breadth, those brilliant eyes, his hands resting lightly on her, the scent of soap and shampoo. The night, the stars, the moon...
“Uhh, Nelly’s not any taller than I am.”
“Nelly’s too smart to be roaming around this time of night.” His hands traced her torso to her waist. “And his hair doesn’t glint in the moonlight like yours does, either.” He leaned in, rested his forehead on hers. “You do something to me, Lainie Sue. You touch something deep inside me. Even the first time I laid eyes on you way back in that café.”
His mouth was warm and moist as he kissed her forehead. Then his lips traveled to the tip of her nose, the sides of her mouth, settled on her lips. It took all her will power not to wrap herself around him. He was so solid, so appealing, more compelling than any man who’d ever touched her.
He broke the kiss, yet didn’t. His mouth was on its way to her ear. Her whole body, every nerve ending, was tuned to his mouth and where it was. His fingers kneaded her waist. She shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Uh...no.”
His hands found the curve of her hips, traveled from waist to thigh and back again.
“It wouldn’t take much right about now,” he whispered, “for me to sweep you up and carry you off.” His hands slipped beneath her sweatshirt to bare skin and his lips moved to her neck.
“No.”
“No?” His hands stilled, then withdrew to rest safely outside her clothes. He drew back and gave her a knowing look. “Appears I have a strong effect on you, too, Lainie Sue. First you had your back up, then you responded to me, whether you’ll admit it or not, and now you’ve turned skittish and want to run.”
She merely nodded, incapable of debating the point.
“But you’re not fighting me,” he added. His thumbs were massaging her shoulders, lightly and sensually. If he hadn’t already figured out she’d forgotten her bra, he knew it now with his thumbs up there where the straps should be. His breath stirred her bangs. He smelled like Dial soap and coffee. And there was no reason why that combination should make her insides as quivery as a bowl of Jell-O.
“I...um, I’ll go on back to my house now,” she said. Why had she argued with him in the first place and got this whole thing started? Didn’t she have a lick of sense?
“I’d rather you come to mine,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “It’s closer.”
A breeze sprang up, rustling the leaves of the giant elm. Their shadows fused together on the ground. When she tried to pull away, his hold tightened.
“Reed?”
“Shh.” He lifted her hand, smoothed out the fingers and buried his mouth in her palm. A tremulous shock surged through her.
“Reed.” Her voice was shaky, and it held warning, but for herself or for him she wasn’t sure.
“Well,” he whispered, glancing up at her with his lips still touching her palm. “Clearly this is not one-sided.”
“Yeah? Well...well...for someone so concerned about nighttime safety, it seems you’re taking a big chance keeping me out here.”
She pulled back, he held on and she struggled harder. Her senses had finally made a comeback. She’d been perilously close to losing the war with herself, and she figured he knew that because he wasn’t taking her resistance seriously. As he maneuvered to get a more secure grip, she stamped on his toe. Her tennis shoe wasn’t going to do much damage to that block-hard boot, but it was the thought that counted.
“You don’t let me go right now,” she warned, “I’ll wake up the whole bunkhouse, the main house, Miles, Rosalie, the horses—”
He clamped a hand over her mouth. “You’re not fooling me,” he shot back. “I felt that shiver run through you. What’s with you, anyway?”
She twisted her head and his hand dropped from her mouth. “I don’t...want...romance.”
“Well...I...do.” Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a strong shake. It wasn’t the most romantic move he could’ve made.
“Well, gee, that’s tough.” The yard rang with their forceful whispers. “I seriously doubt you’re the first hot-blooded cowboy who’s not going to get what he wants.”
Now that his blood seemed more heated with temper than ardor, the situation was back on even footing. She had about as much chance of topping him in the sexual banter he was so good at as winning a physical fight with him. But in just plain getting mad, she could hold her own any old day.
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