Montana Mavericks, Books 1-4

by Diana Palmer

  Suddenly she felt as though she couldn’t get enough air, and she hopped down from the corral fence where she had perched herself and walked away. As intriguing as watching Luke work was, it had set off something ridiculously sensual in her system, and the last thing she wanted was another rodeo man muddling up her life.

  Keith drove into the yard at about the same time Maris reached the house. She veered directions to see Blackie jumping out of the pickup right behind Keith. “Everything go okay?” she called, glad of any diversion to get her mind off Luke.

  From the back of the pickup Keith picked up a huge sack of dry dog food. “Everything went fine. How’s it going here?”

  “Luke’s in the corral, working with the first horse, and Judd stopped by for a few minutes.”

  Keith swung his gaze to the corral and saw what was happening. “Luke’s a fast worker.”

  “Could be,” Maris agreed dryly, recalling her hot flash a few minutes ago. “Anyway, looks like you’ve got Blackie all set.”

  Keith hoisted the bag of dog food to his shoulder. “These large sacks were marked down. Thought I may as well take advantage of the sale.”

  “Put it in the toolshed,” Maris called as Keith walked off with his twenty-pound burden.

  “Okay,” he called back. Blackie was no more than six inches behind her newly adopted master’s bootheels. In watching the boy and dog, Maris nodded with fond approval. Keith had needed something of his very own, and maybe Blackie, stray, straggly little pooch that she was, was it.

  Maris didn’t immediately proceed into the house. Instead she stood with her hand splayed at the base of her throat and endured a peculiar throbbing in the pit of her stomach. Automatically her gaze slipped back to the corral and its occupants. Never would Luke throb over her, and her doing so over him was the height of foolishness, especially when she really wanted nothing but hard work from him. Actually, his deadline was rather ludicrous. How could any one person tame ninety-three wild horses in less than three months?

  But that gray mare was responding incredibly well, she had to admit. Was Luke’s touch special? He was still rubbing the animal, and talking to it. What was he saying? What magic was he breathing into that pretty mare’s ears?

  Sighing, slightly disgusted with her own lurid imagination, Maris turned her back on the corral, Luke Rivers and the mare. She had her own work to do…if she could only think of what it was.

  By supper, Luke had moved the gray mare and three other horses into another pasture. Seated at the table with Keith and Luke, Maris said, “Please explain why you’re moving the horses.” She paused then added, “And don’t take my curiosity as interference.”

  Luke looked at her sharply, then nodded. “Right. I’m picking out the calmest horses from the herd, one by one. Today’s sessions with the four I moved to that other pasture went well, and I don’t want them relearning bad habits from their pals. By the way, do either of you ride?”

  “I do,” Maris volunteered. “We used to have several good horses, and I enjoyed riding each of them. There’s only one on the ranch now, though.”

  “What happened to the others?” Luke asked.

  “Ray traded them for a car. It’s behind the barn with the rest of the—” she stopped short of the word junk “—things he purchased over the years.”

  Keith’s eyes lit up. “It’s a Corvette, Luke, a Sting Ray Coupe. Sure wish I knew how to get it running. It’s really cool.”

  “A Corvette, eh? Out behind the barn? Maybe I’ll take a look after supper.” He glanced at Maris. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

  She shrugged. “Why would I mind?”

  Luke returned to his original question. “Do you ride, Keith?”

  The boy’s cheeks got pink. “I’ve only been on a horse a couple of times, Luke, but I really liked it.”

  “Why, Luke?” Maris questioned.

  “Well, in a few days some of those horses are going to be ready for a rider. I’ll ride them first to make sure they’ll obey commands and won’t try to throw the person off their back, but then they’re going to need a lot of riding.”

  “Heck, I’ll do it,” Keith exclaimed excitedly.

  Maris frowned. She didn’t want Keith getting hurt riding half-broken horses. “Will it be dangerous?”

  Luke glanced over at her and thought she’d never looked prettier than she did this evening in that red blouse she was wearing. “I wouldn’t put anyone on a dangerous horse, Maris. There are some in that pasture that will never be calm enough for either of you to ride. Here’s my plan. Mother—that’s the gray mare—will be the first horse I’ll be riding. When she’s ready for some real action I’m going to use her to move the three stallions from the main pasture to another. Probably the one with the cows. That big red bozo is the head honcho of the herd, and getting him and the younger stallions away from the other horses will calm them all down. It’s going to have to be done from horseback, and Mother’s going to be my mount.”

  “Interesting,” Maris commented. She was smiling. “Are you going to name every horse?”

  “Probably,” Luke admitted with a grin. “That tan gelding I worked with after Mother has a curly tail, so his name is ‘Curly.’”

  “Naturally,” Maris said with a laugh. “And the other two?”

  “Zelda and Mickey.”

  Both Maris and Keith were laughing now. “So, we have Mother, Curly, Zelda and Mickey so far,” Maris said.

  “And Bozo,” Luke reminded.

  “Oh, yes, the big red stallion.”

  “You can sure count on me to ride ’em when they’re ready,” Keith said with unabashed enthusiasm.

  “I’ll do it, too,” Maris said, though she cast a concerned glance at Keith. “Just be certain it’s safe, Luke.”

  Taking a swallow of coffee, Luke saw and recognized Maris’s affection for Keith. Was he a relative? The son of a friend who’d needed a summer job? He was a nice kid, Luke felt, and eager to get involved. Keith could be a big help with the horses, but from the protectiveness he detected in Maris’s attitude toward the boy, he had better discuss it with her before mentioning it to Keith.

  “It’ll be safe, Maris,” he told her. “You have my word on it.”

  His word. Maris fell silent. How good was Luke Rivers’s word? Ray’s “word” had been wasted breath, his promises forgotten the second they came out of his mouth. She had learned not to count on anything Ray said, but what about Luke? Regardless of the two men’s common obsession with rodeo, she probably shouldn’t be too hasty in judging them as being alike.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she told Luke with a steady look across the table. Luke returned the look, and their gazes suddenly locked in a brand-new and disturbing way. Maris felt that unnerving throbbing again; Luke admired her red blouse and the startling color of her hair and eyes. Keith was eating and noticed nothing, but both Luke and Maris were all too aware of the attraction between them. Both dropped their eyes and awkwardly began eating.

  An unfamiliar nervousness sprang to life in Luke’s gut. Maris Wyler was off-limits. He sent her a quick, furtive glance. She was off-limits, wasn’t she?

  Maris’s appetite was gone. She’d eaten about half the food on her plate, but it suddenly looked as tasteless as sawdust. She sat there, however, and pretended to eat by pushing the food around on her plate and occasionally bringing a teensy bite to her mouth.

  Finally Luke and Keith were finished. “There’s pudding for dessert,” Maris announced tonelessly, wishing they would say they were too full for dessert. That look exchanged with Luke had put her on edge, because now she wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t throb for her.

  At long last—it seemed an eternity to Maris—the meal was over. Luke pushed back his chair and got up to take his dishes to the sink. Keith and Maris did the same, and then the two men left the kitchen to go outside and Maris was alone.

  Weakly she leaned against the sink counter. That “throbbing” business could be getting out
of hand. How could she stop it? There must be a way to put an end to it.

  Outside, Keith said, “Want to take a look at that Corvette, Luke?”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see it.” They began walking—with Blackie right behind them—toward the barn. “I didn’t know there was a car parked back there.”

  Keith let out a whooping laugh. “There’s a lot more than a car back there, Luke. Wait till you see.”

  Luke had figured that he’d explored the ranch pretty well, but obviously he’d missed the acreage behind the barn. His eyes widened with outright shock when he and Keith rounded the back corner of the barn and he saw what was out there: cars, trucks, tractors, a row of old refrigerators, electric motors rusting on the ground, a riding lawn mower, and much more, too many items to take in at one time. Knee-high weeds had grown up so thickly as to obscure some of the smaller objects.

  “Good God,” Luke muttered.

  “The Corvette’s over there,” Keith said excitedly, starting to plow through the weeds and debris to a particular location.

  Luke followed the boy to a red car propped up on blocks, its tires missing. There were rust spots in the red paint, but the body wasn’t banged up. “I tried to start it one day,” Keith confessed. “But nothing happened. The engine looks okay to me, but I’m not much of a mechanic. Do you know anything about engines, Luke?”

  “Very little.” He opened the Corvette’s door and peered inside. “It has a four-speed manual transmission.” The interior of the car was black leather and in pretty good condition. An idea was taking shape in his mind. He wasn’t interested in old cars, but he knew someone who was. Maris just might pick up a sizable piece of cash for this baby.

  “I’m going in to talk to Maris, Keith. There’s a good chance that a fellow I know might be interested in buying this car.”

  “Really? Hey, that’d be great.”

  Blackie was sniffing around, and Keith began throwing a stick for Blackie to chase and bring back. “She’s a real smart dog, Luke. Knows lots of tricks.”

  Grinning, Luke walked off. “See ya later.” He hurried around the barn and to the house, where he walked in without any warning.

  Maris jumped a foot. “Good Lord, you scared the stuffing out of me. I thought you were down by the barn with Keith.”

  “I was.” She was just finishing up at the sink, Luke saw, wiping down the counters. “Maris, that Corvette has some value. Maybe some of that other stuff does, too, but I know a guy who collects old Corvettes and he just might be interested in yours. What do you say I give him a call?”

  Holding the dishcloth, Maris turned. “You mean someone might actually pay good money for that junk?”

  “That Corvette isn’t junk, Maris. If my hunch is right, it’s worth a good sum of money.”

  “And you know someone who might be interested? Well, yes, by all means, give him a call.” It had never occurred to Maris that some of Ray’s old junk might have any value. None of the vehicles ran, she knew, and everything was dirty and rusted and half-hidden by weeds. The place was an eyesore, and one of her plans for the future, should she manage to save the ranch, was to hire a truck to haul off all that junk. To think that someone might buy even one item as it was, broken, rusted and not very pretty, was a thrill she could never have anticipated.

  Luke sat down at the kitchen table to use the wall phone next to it. He dialed a long-distance number and spoke to Maris. “Hope Jim’s at home.” While Jim’s phone rang in his ear, he watched Maris puttering, apparently too antsy to stand still.

  Then the phone was picked up. “Hello?”

  “Jim? This is Luke Rivers. How are you?”

  “Luke! Well, I’ll be a son of a gun. Thought you dropped off the face of the earth. Where you been, boy?”

  “It’s a long story, Jim, and I’m using someone else’s phone. What I called about is an old Corvette I ran across. Are you still collecting them?”

  “Sure am. What’d you find, Luke?”

  “It’s a Sting Ray Coupe. Original paint with some rust in spots, four-speed transmission and black leather interior, also original. It needs work, but it’s nothing you couldn’t handle.”

  “Do you know what engine it’s got?”

  Luke could hear the excitement in Jim’s voice. “No, I don’t. Frankly I didn’t even look at the engine, though I know it’s got one. But I wouldn’t know what I was looking at if I stared at it for three days. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d like to come to Whitehorn, Montana, and take a look at it?”

  “Whitehorn, Montana, eh? Well, sure, why not? You might have stumbled across a real find, Luke. Who owns it?”

  “The lady I’m breaking a herd of horses for. It’s the No Bull Ranch, Jim, about thirty miles northeast of Whitehorn.”

  Maris’s stomach was churning with excitement. From Luke’s end of the conversation, his friend Jim was indeed interested in the Corvette.

  But now they were chuckling over the name of her ranch. Maris shot Luke an exasperated look, wanting to say, “Get to the point. Pin him down about when he can come and see the Corvette.” She said nothing, just stewed to herself and wiped the counters again, though they were already gleaming.

  Luke put down the phone with a satisfied expression. “He’ll be here within the week.”

  Maris’s excitement totally eluded her control. “Oh, Luke, that’s great! What if he buys it? How much do you think it’s worth? To think it was sitting out there all this time and I never dreamed someone might buy it. Honestly, I feel so silly.”

  Luke got to his feet. “He hasn’t bought it yet, Maris.”

  “But you think he might.”

  “I think there’s a good chance, yes.” He came around the table. “But I have no idea of the car’s value, Maris. I have heard that some classic older cars bring high prices, but I don’t think you should hang your hat on a large sum.”

  “Any sum looks good right now, Luke.”

  Luke was enjoying the spark of hope in her eyes and realizing an odd fact: it made him feel good to make Maris happy. His next thought wasn’t nearly as high-minded, however. Recognizing desire streaking through his body, he drew a slow, uneven breath.

  Maris blinked, suddenly aware that they were alone and that the kitchen was getting very dim, as she hadn’t yet turned on any lights in the house. “Uh…maybe I’ll go out and take a look at that Corvette myself.” She started for the door, only to be stopped by a big hand on her arm. Her eyes lifted to Luke’s, and what she saw caused that throbbing to begin again. “Please…don’t,” she whispered, wondering why in God’s name her voice was deserting her at a time like this.

  “Maris…” Luke took her by the shoulders and slowly brought her forward. She smelled wonderful, of soap and lotion and other feminine scents.

  She couldn’t move. In her mind’s eye was a picture of Luke and Mother, the mare. Her own system was resisting common sense. His hands, his marvelous hands, were gently kneading her shoulders, and she knew he was going to kiss her.

  He brought his face down to hers and very tenderly touched her lips with his. It felt so good and she didn’t back away, so he did it again. Her hands rose to clasp his forearms, and when he looked at her, he saw the glaze of pleasure in her eyes.

  That was all he needed to see. Almost roughly, he swept her into a full embrace and kissed her the way a man should kiss a woman, with passion and possession and a message of raw hunger. Maris’s knees got as limp as last year’s carrots. When had she last been kissed like this? When had she ever been kissed like this? Luke’s lips molded hers to fit his, then urged hers open to take his tongue. It was hot and slick and bold as brass, delving into every nook and cranny of her mouth. A red haze was developing behind her closed eyelids, and the throbbing in her stomach was intensified further by the sensation of his strong arms around her, the length of his body pressing into hers, by his male scent and heat.

  It was a lover’s kiss, and it scared her. Her own response scared her. Breathing hard
, she twisted her head to free her mouth. “Stop,” she moaned.

  “Maris, honey…” He didn’t want to stop. Where that explosive passion had come from, he would never know, but Maris had suddenly become the most desirable woman he’d ever known.

  “Please.” Extricating herself from his arms, she took a backward step and then had to hang on to the back of a chair to remain upright and steady. “This isn’t me, Luke. I don’t do this sort of thing.” Her voice was shaky and thin.

  He looked at her strangely. “What do I say to that? You kissed me back, Maris.”

  “I know, but you took me by surprise.”

  Luke took a forward step. “What’s wrong with you and me sharing a kiss?”

  It was not a subject to debate with him, not when she still felt his kiss on her mouth and her legs would barely hold her up. “Intimacy is not a part of our arrangement,” she croaked, trying to sound calm and in control and failing abysmally.

  Luke looked at her for the longest time. “But what if intimacy is what we want?”

  Her eyes jerked upward to see his. “Do you always get what you want?”

  “No, but I always try. Don’t you, Maris? Don’t you at least try to get what you want? What you need?”

  “That’s enough.” Her legs felt a little stronger, and she left the chair and began moving toward the door. “Don’t make any more passes, Luke. I want and need those horses broken, a whole lot more than I want what you just offered.”

  “There’s no reason why you can’t have both,” he said softly.

  She paused at the door to look at him. “You’re wrong. There is a reason, and it’s very important to me. I never did and never will have an affair.” She opened the door. “Especially with a man whom I know in advance is only going to be around for a few months.” Showing him her back, she stepped outside, and an enormous surge of relief hit her, because Keith and Blackie were coming toward her and the house. Keith’s presence would deter Luke’s determination to persuade her into thinking his way.