by Day Leclaire
'And do you also remember the promises we exchanged?'
'Of course.'
'So do I.' He ticked them off on his fingers. 'I promised to give your employees a fair chance. I promised to give your grandmother a home. And I promised to sign a prenuptial agreement. Is that everything?'
She glanced at him uneasily. 'Yes.'
'You promised one thing. What was it?'
She knew where he was headed with this and she didn't like it. 'I seem to remember there being more than one,' she temporized.
'Fine,' he said evenly. 'Name any that you remember.'
Time to face the music. She should be grateful that he wasn't rending her limb from limb. She looked him straight in the eye and said, 'I promised you'd be in charge of the ranch/
'Which means?'
She sighed. 'That what you say goes. That I'm not to question you in front of the employees or second-guess your decisions. You don't work by committee,' she repeated his demands by rote.
'And did you do that? Did you keep your promise?'
Reluctantly she shook her head. 'No.' Nor had she kept her agreement to make their marriage a fully functioning one. She should be grateful that he hadn't pointed that out as well.
"That's why I'm angry. One of these days you'll trust me to do what's right for you and for the ranch. You'll trust me without question.'
'You mean blindly.'
'Okay. That's what I mean.'
She bit down on her lip. How could she do what he asked when it might all be part of an elaborate game of revenge, an attempt to even the score for old wrongs? 'I don't think I can do that, Hunter. You're asking me to risk everything.'
'Yes. I am.'
'It's too much,' she whispered, staring down at the blanket, running the wool fringe through her fingers. 'I can't give it to you. Not yet.'
A long minute ticked by before he inclined his head. 'All right. I'll answer your questions—this time.'
She glanced up in surprise. 'You'll tell me why you fired Orrie and Lenny? Why you made Mateo give up the horses?'
'Yes. This once I'll explain myself. Next time you either trust me or you don't; I don't care which. But don't expect me to defend my actions again. You understand?' At her nod, he said, 'I put Mateo in charge of the haying operation. It meant an increase in wages— something he and his family need. Plus he knows more about mechanics than he does about horses.'
'But... he knows everything about horses.'
'He knows more about repairing our equipment. As for Lenny... He wasn't happy working on a ranch. But employment meant more to him than his dislike of ranching, which says a lot about the man's character, so I recommended him for a job as a security-guard at your godfather's bank. Lenny jumped at the opportunity.'
She could hardly take it in. 'And Orrie?'
He frowned. 'Orrie was a thief,' he told her reluctantly.
'A thief! I don't believe it. What did he steal?' An obstinate look appeared in his eyes, a look she didn't doubt he'd find reflected in her own. 'Hunter?' she prompted, refusing to let it drop.
'He took your silver circlet.'
She stared in shock. 'From my wedding-gown? But that was in our...*
'Bedroom,' he finished for her.
The full implication gradually sank in. Without a word she turned away and reached for her pole. It felt as if she'd been stabbed in the back by a family member. Her betrayal went so deep that she couldn't even find the words to express it. Slowly, she brought in the line, blinking hard. The cricket was long-gone and she didn't have the stomach to kill another. At some point during their conversation she'd lost her enthusiasm for fishing.
As though sensing her distress, Hunter caught her braid and used it to reel her in. She didn't resist. Right now she needed all the comfort she could get. He folded
his arms around her and she snuggled into his embrace. 'You okay?' he asked.
'No,' she replied, her voice muffled against his shirt. 'See what happens when you trust people?'
'Yes, I see. But I'm not Orrie/
She sighed. 'No, you're not. I'm sorry, Hunter. I should have trusted you to do the right thing for the ranch/
'Yes, you should have/
'And I shouldn't have questioned your judgement in front of the men/
'No, you shouldn't have. Apology accepted.' Without warning he released her, and stripped off his shirt and boots. Then, snatching her high in his arms, he walked into the lake, holding her above the water.
She clung to him, laughing. 'Don't! Don't drop me/
'Do you trust me?'
'Blindly?'
'Is there any other way?'
She bit her lower lip. 'Okay. I trust you. Blindly.'
'Close your eyes.'
'They're closed/
'And take a deep breath/
'Hunter, no!' she yelped. He tossed her into the air and she tumbled, shrieking, landing in the water with a huge splash. An instant later Hunter dived in beside her, kicking with her to the surface. She gasped for air. 'I thought you said I could trust you.'
A slow grin drifted across his lean face and he caught her close. 'I never said what you could trust me to do/
And therein lay the real crux of the matter. She knew he'd do what he thought best—but would it be right for her? As much as she wanted to believe, she couldn't. Not yet.
As they drifted toward shore her hair floated free of its braid, wrapping them in a net of long silvery tendrils. He beached them in the grass and gazed down at her, his attention snared by the wet shirt clinging to her breasts. His palm settled on the taut, supple lines of her midriff, where her shirt had parted company with her jeans. As though unable to resist he lowered his head, and gently bit the rigid peak of her breast through the wet cotton.
Her breath stopped in her throat and her nails bit into his shoulders, marking him with tiny crescent scars of passion. * Hunter!' His name escaped her as though ripped from her throat, filled with an undeniable urgency.
He responded instantly, releasing her breast and plundering her mouth, parting her lips in search of the sweet warmth within. She couldn't seem to get enough of him. Her hands swept down his back, stroking him, needing to absorb him into her very pores, the seductive brush of cloth against skin an almost painful stimulation. His taste filled her mouth, his unique musky scent her lungs. She felt him tug at the fastening of his jeans... And then he hesitated.
Slowly he lifted his head, his angled features stark with want, dark with intent. She knew that expression, knew how close to the edge he must be. She stared at him uncertainly, caught between completing the intimacy he so clearly craved and she so desperately needed, and retreating from an act that would enable him to wrest the final bit of control from her possession. And she waited, waited for him to give in to his desire, to strip away the wet clothes and make her his wife in fact as well as name But instead he drew away, and she could only imagine the amount of willpower it must have taken him
He kissed her again, the caress hard and swift. 'Not here. Not like this. But soon/ he warned in a determined voice. 'Very soon. When there are no more doubts in your mind...when there's no chance of turning back, we will finish this and you will be mine/
She didn't argue. How could she? He was right. Soon they would be lovers, and if she wasn't very, very careful she'd lose her heart as surely as she was losing control of the ranch. And, when that happened, Hunter would finally have his revenge.
The next few days passed with a comfortable ease that gave Leah hope for the future. Hunter continued to work with Dreamseeker, though whether or not he'd made any headway with the stallion was a topic of hot debate. Still, she didn't doubt who would eventually win their battle of wills.
To her relief, the employees seemed quite content working under Hunter's management. Losing two wranglers left ample work for everyone, and she suspected that the fear of being laid off had finally dissipated. Mateo was far happier than she'd ever seen him. And dropping in on Lenny in his new posit
ion as security-guard proved that Hunter had been right about that change as well.
Returning from the bank late one cloudy afternoon, she was surprised to discover Hunter Rototilling the ground around the porch. The powerful blades bit into the dark soil, grinding up the crushed remains of Grandmother Rose's begonias.
'What are you doing?' she called. He didn't answer, merely lifted a hand in greeting and resumed his work. Inez stood on the porch and Leah joined her. 'What's he doing?' she asked the housekeeper. 'Or perhaps I should ask why. Why is he plowing the garden under?'
'No se,' Inez replied with a shrug. 'Abuela Rosa, she took one look, said a nasty word, and stomped off to the kitchen. I don't think she is happy that Senor Pryde has decided to ruin her garden/
Leah frowned. 'Hunter isn't ruining her garden; Bull Jones took care of that already. Hunter's just finishing the job.'
Rose appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. 'If we're going to stand around and watch all my hard work being ground into mulch, we might as well be comfortable/
Leah hastened to take the tray, setting it on a low wrought-iron table. 'There wasn't much left to mulch,' she reassured, pouring drinks and handing them around. 'Our neighboring foreman made sure of that.'
With a noisy humph, Rose sat in a rocker. 'If Hunter thinks I'm starting over again, he's got another think coming. That garden can grow rocks and weeds for all I care.' She took a sip of tea. 'What's he doing over there? What's in those bags?'
'Es abono, siV Inez suggested.
'Fertilizer, huh?' Rose slowly rocked in her chair. 'Yes, sir. That'll give him a fine crop of weeds. A truly fine crop.' She craned her neck. 'Where's he going now?'
Leah shrugged, frowning as Hunter walked toward the rear of the house. 'I don't know. Maybe he's through for the day.'
'Through!' Rose rocked a little faster. 'With everything such a mess? He'd better not leave my garden like that, or I'll have a thing or two to say about it. See if I don't.'
Leah jumped to her feet and leaned over the rail. 'False alarm. Here he comes. He was just pulling the pick-up around.' He climbed out of the cab and crossed to the back of the truck. Lowering the tailgate, he removed an
assortment of bedding plants. She glanced over her shoulder at Rose. 'He bought jasmine for the trellis. I adore jasmine/
Inez joined her at the railing, beaming in delight. ' Y miraV
Slowly Rose stood. 'Well, I'll be. He bought some roses/
Leah began to laugh. 'How appropriate. They're peace roses/
Hunter lined the plants around the perimeter of the house, then approached, carrying a shovel. He stood at the bottom of the porch steps and looked directly at Rose. 'Well? You going to play lady of the manor, or do you want to get your hands dirty and help?'
Rose lifted her chin. 'Whose garden is it?' she demanded.
Hunter shrugged. Tm no gardener. Just thought Fd get it started/
'In that case, I'll fetch my gloves,' she agreed. At the door she paused, and with a crotchety glare demanded, 'Don't you break ground without me. Hear?'
Leah waited until Rose was out of earshot before approaching Hunter, offering him a glass of iced tea. 'This is very thoughtful of you. When Bull destroyed her last flowerbed, she gave in to the inevitable and didn't try again/
He drank the tea and handed her the empty glass. 'He won't destroy another/
She didn't doubt it for a minute. 'Peace roses?' she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He tipped his hat to the back of his head with a gloved finger, and in that moment, Leah didn't think she'd ever seen him look more attractive. 'Yeah, well. I figured it was past time we came to terms. We'll stick in a few rose
bushes and talk. Before we're done we'll have worked out our differences.'
Leah smiled. Tm sure you will,' she said softly. 'It's just difficult for her to adjust to all the changes.'
'I'm not done making them, you know,' he warned.
She nodded. 'I know.'
He'd never promised not to make changes. But they were for the better. And more and more she realized how important he'd become—to her employees, to the ranch... even to her grandmother, loath as Rose might be to admit it.
But most of all, he'd become important to her, perhaps even vital. And before much longer she'd have to deal with that knowledge.
Leah watched in concern the next morning as Hunter and his men drove one of the ranch bulls into a pen in preparation for transporting him to his new owner. She'd nicknamed the animal 'Red' because of his tendency to charge anything or anyone foolish enough to wear that color. After nearly being gored by the bull, Hunter had decided to sell the animal.
He'd also flatly refused to allow her to help move Red to the pen, saying it was 'much too dangerous'. She'd heard that phrase used more than once and had rapidly grown to hate it. But she didn't dare argue, especially in front of the employees and especially when—in this particular case—he was right. The bull was very dangerous.
She climbed to the top rail of the corral fence and looked on from a safe distance. With Red secure and peaceful in the holding-pen, the men only awaited the arrival of the truck to move the bull to his new home.
'Senora Leah!' came a childish shout from behind her. 'Silkie! Get Silkie.'
She turned in time to see all six Arroya children chasing after their new sheepdog puppy. The tiny animal, yapping for all she was worth, streaked beneath the rail of the corral, barreling straight toward the holding-pen... and the bull. And around her neck, bouncing in the dust, hung a huge, red floppy bow.
'Stay there!' she called over her shoulder, hopping off the rail. 'Don't you dare come into the corral. You understand?'
The children obediently skidded to a halt and nodded as one. Six pairs of huge dark eyes stared at her, wide with mingled fear and hope. Wincing at their trusting expressions, Leah hotfooted it after the wayward puppy.
Across the corral the dog ran, and Leah realized that she'd have only one chance to catch the animal before it was too late. At the last possible second, just as they reached the holding-pen, she flung herself at Silkie. Belly-flopping to a dusty halt, inches from the bottom rail, her hand closed around the furry, struggling puppy. For a brief second she held the animal safely in her grasp. Then, with a frantic wiggle, Silkie scrambled free and scooted beneath the rail.
'Silkie, no!' she yelled.
Set on a course of total annihilation, the puppy darted toward the bull. Taking a deep breath and whispering a fervent prayer, Leah ducked beneath the rail, hoping she could snag the animal and escape unscathed. A hard, relentless hand landed on her arm and jerked her back, spinning her around. She stared up into Hunter's furious face.
'Are you nuts?' he practically roared.
'The puppy!' she cried, fighting his hold. 'I've got to save the puppy!'
He glanced from Leah to the Arroya children. 'Open the gates!' he shouted to his men. 'Get the bull out of there!'
Yelling and whistling, the wranglers unlatched the gate between the holding-pen and the pasture. But the bull didn't notice. Focused entirely on Silkie, he lowered his head, pawing at the ground and bellowing in fury. He scored the ground with his horns, just missing the dog.
Swearing beneath his breath, Hunter tossed his hat to the ground and ripped off his shirt. Before anyone could stop him, he climbed beneath the rail and entered the holding-pen.
'Hunter, don't do it!' Leah started to follow, but the look on his face stopped her. If she moved another step, she'd divert his attention and the bull would kill him. It was that simple. She clasped her trembling hands together, hardly daring to breathe. With a fervor bordering on hysteria, she began to pray.
Waving his shirt in the air, Hunter caught the bull's attention. Distracted by this new, more accessible target, the huge animal instantly charged. At the last possible second Hunter threw his shirt at the bull's head and, diving to one side, rolled clear of the vicious hooves and horns. Red pounded by and Hunter
leapt to his feet. Snagging the puppy by the scruff of her neck, he vaulted over the fence to safety.
Blinded, Red crashed into the fence between the holding-pen and the corral, the rails splintering beneath the impact. Keeping Silkie tucked safely under his arm, Hunter grabbed Leah by the wrist and ran flat out for the far side of the corral. The bull stood close to the splintered rails, blowing hard. With several shakes of his head he reduced the shirt covering him to rags. Then he looked around for his next victim. At long last, he spied
the open gate and, to Leah's eternal relief, he barreled through it, racing into the pasture.
Leaving her side, Hunter carried the dog over to the Arroya children and dropped to one knee in the dirt in front of them. Leah watched anxiously, wondering what he intended to say to them, hoping he wouldn't be too rough.
4 Is this your puppy?' he asked the children.
'Yes, sir.' The oldest, Ernesto, stepped forward, swallowing hard. 'She sort of got away from us. We're sorry.'
'You know what could have happened?'
Every last one of them nodded. The youngest, Tina, clung to Ernesto, tears streaking her cheeks. 'We'll be more careful next time,' the boy said solemnly. 'I promise.'
'Promise,' Tina repeated. After a brief hesitation, she held her arms out for Silkie.
Hunter handed over the dog. 'Tie her up until she's old enough to mind. Okay?'
Tina wrapped her arms around the puppy, burying her face in the dog's fluffy coat. With a playful yip, Silkie washed the dirt and tears from the little girl's face. Satisfied that her pet was indeed safe, she peeked up at Hunter from beneath long, dark lashes. 'Promise,' she repeated and offered a gap-toothed smile.
Hunter ruffled her hair and stood. He glanced at Leah and lifted an eyebrow. Without a word, she ran to his side and threw her arms around him, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. His skin felt warm and hard beneath her hands, and she drew in a ragged breath, picturing what he might have looked like had he not been quite so agile. She clung to him, not wanting ever to let go.
