Reaching for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Annie took a sizeable bite, but after chewing, thoughtfully, she swallowed, and said to Matt, "Ruth told me I reminded her of a little girl she once knew named Beth, who would be my age. She said I look like her too."
Matt looked over Annie's head at Ruth, and said, "Was that her name?"
Ruth shook her head. "She was a little girl in my neighborhood who moved away."
Matt's eyes on Ruth, he said, "I'd like to know more about this little girl named Beth, who looked like Annie."
Something about his tone—the cynical edge to it—alarmed Ruth. She stuffed her mouth with potato salad and mumbled, "There's really nothing to tell. She was just a little girl who lived in the neighborhood. And she didn't look all that much like Annie."
Matt studied her for the span of several heartbeats then said in a voice that had lost all its humor, "What is it about the little girl named Beth that reminded you of Annie?"
Ruth laughed lightly, "Her hair and eyes. Beth's were blue too. That's about it."
"That's funny," Matt said. "I'd swear there was more."
"No really, that's it. More salad?" Without waiting for a reply, Ruth scooped out another dollop of salad and plopped it on Matt's plate.
Matt raised his eyes from his plate and looked at her steadily. "We'll talk about it later."
And Ruth knew that whatever it took, she would not go to Matt's room tonight. But she'd worry about the ramifications of that tomorrow.
CHAPTER 10
Matt called to Tanner. "You ready with that iron?"
Tanner nodded.
"Okay, Seth. Send out the last one," Matt yelled.
Seth split off a calf from the others, and it bolted into the corral and scrambled for freedom. Matt hurled his rope, dropping a loop around the calf's neck. Grabbing its front legs, Matt flipped the calf onto its back and bound its legs. Moments later, the acrid smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils as Tanner applied the hot iron to the calf's hide, while Seth vaccinated the animal. The animal let out a gut-wrenching bawl, but before he could struggle, he was free. And Matt was done for the day. Done with branding, that is. He hadn't even begun with Ruth. Wrestling and branding calves was the easy part of his day. Trying to make sense out of Ruth's erratic behavior was a whole different matter. His first reaction when she wasn't at breakfast was to track her down and give her hell for being a tease. When she agreed to come to his room, there was no question what she had in mind. But she didn't come, and she'd been avoiding him again, a clear indication that they were back to square one. Whatever that was.
...you want me to be on-call for sex whenever the notion moves you...
Good Lord! He hadn't been listening when she'd said the words, but he was hearing them now. No wonder she'd been avoiding him. He'd been acting like a rutting bull whenever she was near. He should know enough about women to realize they needed to be courted, at least decent women like Ruth did. He'd never bothered to get to know her—her likes and dislikes, getting her to talk about the daughter she'd lost, and about the father of her child. He was not a part of the picture apparently, and now he wondered why. But until now, it had been all about getting her into bed. Which went against his rules about live-in female help. Nannies and housekeepers were off limits. It hadn't been a difficult policy to follow. Until now.
But Ruth was different. She was sensitive. And he'd been an insensitive, single-minded bastard. She'd lost a daughter. Lord only knows how it would be to lose Annie. The idea was too disturbing to imagine. But Ruth was toughing it out. And other than a few half-assed attempts, he hadn't taken the time or the patience to draw her out by sharing thoughts and feelings, an in depth conversation that would allow Ruth to pour out her heart to him. The fact was, he'd been too preoccupied with himself and his sexual needs to think of anything else. But it would be different now. He'd slow things down, buy her something special, something expensive...
…most mistresses at least get a car out of the deal...
Well, maybe he’d buy her something expensive later, when it was established that she was not his mistress, but was the most important person in his life next to Annie. He'd start with flowers and go from there. And he'd keep his distance. No pulling her into his arms, no heated kisses, no... damn... nothing.
Meanwhile, he had another restless night ahead of him. He hadn't seen Ruth all day. She and Annie had been on another horseback outing with packed meals, no doubt so she wouldn't have to face him at dinner. But that was all about to change.
***
Ruth looked out of her bedroom window to see a van from Pine Grove Florist pulling up out front. A man wearing white overalls hopped down and headed up the walkway, a long narrow box in the crook of his arm. It seemed improbable that flowers would be delivered to the Kincaid Ranch. More likely, the driver made a wrong turn. A few minutes later, however, she was surprised when Edith came to her room, the box in her arms, and said, "These are for you."
Ruth eyed the box. "I can't imagine who'd be sending me flowers." It definitely wasn't Matt's style. Nor could he have sent them, since he and the men were moving cattle and stretching out a new section of fencing and wouldn't be back for several days, a welcome relief just to know he was gone and wouldn't be asking any more questions about Beth. Why she'd mentioned Beth to Annie, she couldn't explain, even to herself. It just slipped out. And now she knew Matt wouldn't let it go until she answered his questions. She feared he was beginning to suspect something and it was up to her to either verify that Annie was Beth, or continue playing cat and mouse while searching for the truth...
"Well, go ahead, look inside the box and see who sent them," Edith urged.
Ruth opened the box and found a dozen long-stemmed red roses wrapped in green florist tissue. A tiny envelope was tucked in among the stems. She slipped the card from the envelope and read, "For a special woman."
Edith chuckled. "Looks like you've got a secret admirer. Can't imagine which of the boys has a romantic streak though. It's not Seth or Tanner. Seth's been with Sue Anne for the better part of two years, and Tanner's had the same girlfriend since high school. It's not likely to be JT either, because he has his eye on a little waitress over at Gladys Café, and Gabe told my boys he's planning on marrying his high school sweetheart as soon as they've saved enough money. Maybe Deke, but I can't imagine him sending flowers."
"Deke also views me as a greenhorn city slicker," Ruth said.
Which left Matt. Ruth touched a delicate blossom. Her heart started beating a staccato rhythm with the idea of Matt sending them...
"You have a boyfriend back home?" Edith asked.
Ruth shook her head. "Not that I know of."
Edith took the box of flowers. "Then I'll put these in water and bring them back. You be sure and let me know who he turns out to be now." She walked away, chuckling.
Ruth stared at the card. Matt hadn't questioned her at all about why she didn't come to his room two nights before, and it wasn't because he didn’t have a chance. Although she'd avoided him, that wouldn't have stopped him. For whatever reason, this time he'd left her alone. And he’d made it clear at dinner the night before that he'd be riding with the men for the next four days. No attempt to kiss her goodbye, no winks or suggestive smiles. Not even so much as a little squeeze of her arm. She’d wondered if he'd finally lost interest. She'd certainly given him reason. Although his motives for pursuing her had been clear, the thought that he'd finally given up the chase bothered her more than she cared to acknowledge.
The next day, more flowers arrived. This time they were delivered by a grizzled cowboy on horseback, who said, "One of the boys from the Kincaid wanted these left for the lady workin' here." The bouquet came wrapped in a moistened bandana. The flowers were the same as those growing beside the swimming hole. However, when Edith handed her the bouquet, what caught Ruth's attention was not the yellow monkey flowers or the scarlet columbine or the blue monk’s heads, but the profusion of tiny white flo
wers, the same little flowers Matt had tickled her with the first day at the swimming hole. She looked for a card but found none. But the message was clear. She blushed, and said, "They’re really pretty."
Edith eyed the flowers. "Funny there's no note. I guess you're just supposed to know. You got any idea who it is?"
Ruth stared at the white blossoms peeking out from among the flowers, almost feeling the tiny petals trailing across her breasts, a pair of deep blue eyes following the path of the flowers. Her body started tingling, and heat rushed up her face. She shook her head. "No, I have no idea who it is," she lied, feeling her face grow hot.
Edith laughed. "Whoever sent them oughta see your face. You're blushin' like a school girl."
Ruth knew her cheeks must be scarlet. They felt as if on fire. She also knew she didn't want Edith to learn who the mystery lover was because if she did, before long, all of Pine Grove would know that the new nanny at the Kincaid was taking care of more than just Annie Kincaid. "I'm just flushed from the heat," she said.
Edith eyed her dubiously. "Well, I'd better get these in water since they're starting to wilt."
On the third day, Edith intercepted Ruth in the living room, another long box from the florist cradled in her arms. "These just arrived," she said, excitedly.
Ruth eyed the box, almost afraid to open it. There was no guessing what might be written on the card. She was certain now the flowers came from Matt, and she wished Edith would leave before learning the truth. Instead, Edith stood looking at the box, and said, "Well go ahead. Let's see what lover boy wrote this time."
With a shaking hand, Ruth lifted the lid and peered down at the single yellow rose. The card read, "From a lonesome cowboy."
Edith giggled. "He must really be lonely paying to have one rose sent eighteen miles. He must also have a whole lot of money—" she stopped short. And Ruth knew Edith figured it out, which she verified, by saying, "Well, who'd have figured Matt being the romantic type. Just goes to show you, you never know a man till he starts courting a woman."
"It does seem... unlike him," Ruth agreed. The thought of Matt with a romantic streak seemed sweetly endearing, a side of him she'd never have guessed.
So, when Matt returned the afternoon of the fourth day, and said to Ruth, "Please come to the shooting range with Annie and me tomorrow," the fact that he'd said please was the clincher. Before the flowers started arriving he would have said something more like, "We'll be heading to the shooting range tomorrow. Be ready to leave at..."
With him peering down at her with such expectation in his eyes, like a little boy pleading for a puppy, Ruth simply nodded, and said, "I'd like that."
A slow smile touched his lips, and a new light came into his eyes, reminding her that he was not a little boy pleading for a puppy. He was a man with a man's needs. And what he wanted was definitely not a puppy. Only the thought of Annie being along gave her the resolve to keep her word this time. Still, she felt uneasy.
***
Matt tucked the box into his saddle bag and mounted his horse, then pressed him into a gallop so he could catch up with Ruth and Annie, who'd started on ahead of him. When he slowed to a walk alongside Ruth, Annie said, "Can I ride Skeeter in the stream?"
Matt nodded. "Just don't get out of my sight."
Annie trotted her horse over to the stream, a short distance away.
Matt slanted a glance at Ruth. She carried her shoulders squared and her head high. In fact, she sat straighter and taller than any greenhorn he'd ever had on the ranch, seeming totally at ease with her newfound skill, which pleased him. He only wished he'd been the one to teach her to ride. He had no idea why it seemed important now, but it did.
She caught him looking at her, and smiled. "Thank you for the flowers," she said.
Matt winked and smiled back. "I didn't want you to forget me while I was gone."
"I didn't. But it doesn't change anything about us... being together."
"It wasn't meant to," Matt said. "I've been acting like my prize bull and I want to start over and treat you the way I should have from the start. I want to make up for the way I've been coming on to you. Can you accept that for now?"
Ruth shrugged. "I suppose. So, how do we start over?"
"We start by getting to know each other, so if you have any questions about me, just ask. My life's an open book."
Ruth seemed to ponder that for an inordinate amount of time, until finally, she said, "Okay then. You claim you're the black sheep of the family and didn't get along with your father and brothers. Tell me about them, and your mother. You never talk about any of them except Bret."
Matt shrugged. "I doubt they mention me either. I see them on Christmas and at a few family gatherings. My mother's preoccupied with the family's public image and social standing, and my father and I butt horns within five minutes of being in the same room. He's pissed I didn't follow the plan he laid out for me. But my three older brothers did. Bret's the attorney he was expected to be, Tim's the state attorney general, and Calvin’s a state senator. My father’s real proud of them. So proud, there are a whole lot of people who don't realize he has a fourth son."
"You sound bitter."
"Actually, I'm not," Matt said. "Cutting the ties with my family when I was young enough to be my own man was the best thing I ever did. For the most part, I've never regretted it."
"Then there have been some regrets?" Ruth asked.
"Yeah, like marrying the wrong woman," Matt replied.
"But if you hadn't married her, you wouldn't have Annie," Ruth said.
The look on Ruth's face was like an indictment, making Matt bear the full weight of a burden he'd carried for four years. "Annie's the only good that came of the marriage and there's no way in hell I'll let that bitch—excuse the language—back into Annie's life. I suppose I should have had Bret handle the divorce as well."
"As well as the adoption?" Ruth asked.
The question caught Matt up short. Annie's adoption was not a subject he intended to discuss with Ruth or anyone else. "No," he said. "I've been doing things on my own so long I forget I have a brother who's one of the best attorneys in the country. And you?" he asked, shifting subjects. "Was being a nanny what your parents laid out for you?"
"Well no, not exactly," Ruth replied. "I majored in art in college and after graduation there weren't any job opportunities so I just sort of... fell into… being a nanny."
"How did you just sort of fall into being a nanny?"
"Oh... one thing led to another and—" Ruth shrugged "—and here I am. And speaking of being a nanny, I'd better see how Annie's doing." She trotted her horse over to the stream's edge.
Matt watched her solemnly. She had a way of cutting him off whenever he turned the focus on her. It was also becoming apparent that she was avoiding answering questions about herself, and he wondered why. He watched the graceful sway of her body with the motion of the horse, and tried to keep his mind off how good she'd feel in his arms, face flushed with passion, lips wet and shimmering, tendrils of hair curling around her face. He'd stroke her body, touching her everywhere. And she'd moan those soft little moans that would drive him to distraction. How long would she hold out? A month? A week?
He held onto that last thought until they arrived at the shooting range, where he planned to give Ruth his gift. But to do that he'd need a few minutes alone with her. "Annie," he called out. "Take Skeeter over to the meadow so he can get his fill of grass. I'll work with Ruth first and I'll call you when it's your turn to shoot."
Annie kicked Skeeter, and as the horse cantered toward a meadow dotted with flowers, Matt said to Ruth, "Tether Dynamite to a tree and let's get started."
Swinging her leg over the horse's rear, Ruth slipped to the ground, and said, "About learning to shoot, you really don't need to teach me."
"It's something you need to know out here," Matt said, deciding he wouldn't give her the option of not learning. "Lots of women are intimidated by guns, and the only way yo
u can get used to them is to start shooting. You might even like it."
"It’s not a matter of liking or not liking, it’s just that—"
"Sweetheart, you will learn to shoot," Matt said, so let’s get on with it."
Ruth pursed her lips and said nothing.
Matt reached into his saddle bag and took out the box, which he'd wrapped in plain brown paper. "I sent Annie off because I wanted to be alone with you when I gave you this. It's a little something to let you know how much I care."
Ruth took the box, and when she felt the weight of it, she let out a little snicker, and said, "Obviously it isn't a diamond necklace." She tipped it back and forth. "It feels like a book. A smaller version of King Arthur. You want me to play Isolde to your Sir Tristan."
Matt laughed. "Sorry, no. But go ahead. Open it."
Ruth tore off the paper, and frowned. "A gun?"
"It's a Ruger Bearcat," Matt said, lifting the gun from the box. "The design's based on the older Remington single actions of the 1800's, and if you look here—" he angled the gun so she could see the cylinder "—you'll see an engraving of a bear. It's Ruger's smallest and lightest six gun and it has little or no recoil when fired."
Ruth stared at the gun and said nothing.
"I know it's not romantic," Matt said, "but if I got you jewelry you’d say I was trying to get you in bed. It's for you to carry when you're out riding, and to keep in your handbag when you're in the city. I'll show you how to use it."
"You don't have to."
"I know I don't have to, but I'm going to. You're important to me, honey, and I want you to be able to protect yourself from anything and anybody."
Ruth looked at him and smiled, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Thank you," she said. And he knew she meant it. For once, he'd played his cards right with Ruth.
On a dirt ledge carved out of an embankment, Matt set up several cans, pockmarked with bullet holes, and said. "We'll dry-fire first so you can get the feel of the gun. Here, hold it with both hands." He handed her the pistol and stepped behind her. "Now, raise it over your head like this—" he curved his arms around her and covered her hands with his, making her raise the gun— "then slowly lower it like this" —his hands came down— "and without jerking, squeeeeeze the trigger." Which she did. "That's real good. Now, try it a few more times and we'll load her up and see what you can do."
Justified Deception (Prequel: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 14
