by Arlene James
“War Bonnet Realty. This is Abe Tolly. How can I help you?”
Shocked to find herself speaking with a real person, Jeri floundered a bit. “Oh, uh, I didn’t expect to reach anyone this time of night.”
“The beauty of cell phones,” Tolly told her cheerfully. “The office goes where I do.”
“I suppose that’s true. Um, my name is Jeri Bogman, and I’m...raising horses, so I’m looking for someplace to do that. Property, I mean.”
“I’ve been selling property in Oklahoma for nigh on forty years,” he told her then enthusiastically began listing properties that might meet her needs. Surprisingly, he served a very wide area of the state. “Where are you located now?”
“I’m staying over at Loco Man Ranch.”
That seemed to thrill him. “Excellent. Why don’t you come on over to the office in the morning, say about ten? I’ll show you what’s available, and we’ll figure out which direction we want to go in.”
Suddenly, everything was moving faster than she’d anticipated. Her mind whirling, Jeri stammered, “T-Tomorrow? What about the r-roads?”
“Aw, they’ll be clear by morning. By ten for sure. If not, we’ll reschedule.”
She didn’t know what else to do but agree. “A-All right.”
“Our office is between the post office and the grocery store. Can’t miss us.”
“Right. Okay.”
She ended the call feeling uneasy. She needed to put on a good show, but she hated to waste the Realtor’s time. Yes, she truly did want to start a breeding ranch but not anywhere near the Smith family. Why hadn’t she realized that was going to happen? And how was she going to stall until she got what she needed from Ryder? She could turn down every property, of course, but that would just oblige her to leave the area when the Realtor ran out of options. Pondering the dilemma, she began to get an idea.
She quietly ran down the stairs and found Jake and Kathryn turning out lights in the kitchen.
“Would you mind giving me Ryder’s phone number? I’d like to ask him a question before it gets too late.”
Jeri punched the number into her phone as Jake rattled it off then hurried back upstairs to make the call.
Ryder answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
She could hear water running in the background. “It’s Jeri. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”
The water shut off then. “It’s fine.”
“I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll try.”
He sounded surprised, and she couldn’t blame him for that, given her hot and cold behavior.
“I have an appointment with a Realtor tomorrow, and I was hoping you’d go with me. He’s an older man, and I’m not sure he’ll take me seriously if I’m alone.”
“I expect you can hold your own, but it’s probably wise for someone to go along, especially if the roads are still bad.”
“That’s true. Besides, you know more about this area than I do.”
“Not really,” Ryder said. “We haven’t even been here a year yet, but I’ll tag along for the meeting if it makes you feel better.”
Relieved, Jeri agreed that they’d take care of the horses, his and hers, before leaving to keep her appointment. After ending the call, Jeri lay back on her bed with a smile of satisfaction. This could work out better than she’d realized. If Ryder exploded at her or made a confession in private, it would be his word against hers. And she didn’t think she could trigger him into an eruption of anger in front of the family he adored. It was altogether better for a completely disinterested party to witness the same. Now, all she had to do was trigger Ryder’s temper in front of the real estate agent.
For a moment, she felt a biting regret at what she had to do. If only he wasn’t being so sweet about everything. But then she remembered what her brother had told her about Ryder.
“He comes off as the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, but no one should be fooled. They don’t call him Dark Rider for nothing. He’s the most lethally gifted fighter I’ve ever seen.”
She could still hear the admiration in Bryan’s voice. Lethal admiration, as it turned out.
Deadly.
She must never forget that.
* * *
“I think you’ll agree there’s good grazing on this parcel,” Abe Tolly said, detailing the property’s finer points as enthusiastically as he had the other two they had seen. A tall, cadaverous man with salt-and-pepper hair under his cowboy hat, he fit the cowboy archetype...until he opened his mouth and waxed eloquent on soil types and pasturage.
Given the way the morning had gone, Ryder couldn’t imagine why Tolly would assume Jeri would agree with anything.
As expected, Jeri leaned close to Ryder and muttered, “If you consider dead plants good grazing.”
Ryder stifled a sigh. It was winter. Naturally the grass was brown and drooping, but Wyatt said weeping love grass was good grazing so long as it wasn’t overgrazed in the fall. Clearly this pasture hadn’t been grazed in a while, but that apparently made no difference to Jeri.
So far, she’d found fault with every property they’d seen, from the proximity to neighbors to the kind of trees on the property. Post oak, it turned out, was the least desirable of the oak species. Yet, when Ryder dryly asked which of her horses objected to post oaks, she’d burst out laughing.
Abruptly declaring herself ravenous, Jeri turned to Mr. Tolly. “I think we’ll have to call it a day. I need to think about what I’ve seen thus far and figure out which direction to go from here, and I just can’t think when I’m this hungry.”
Tolly smiled politely, but Ryder wouldn’t have blamed him for being put out. After all, he’d offered to buy their lunch more than an hour earlier as they’d driven right past the town. On the other hand, Ryder didn’t see why the gentlemanly Realtor should have to buy anyone’s lunch when he had no guarantee of making a sale. Ryder was just glad that he’d had the foresight to warn Kathryn that he and Jeri likely wouldn’t be around for lunchtime at the ranch.
They rode back to town in Mr. Tolly’s SUV on roads clear of all but minor patches of ice. Jeri thanked the Realtor for his efforts that morning and promised to get in touch with him again as soon as she was able.
“No problem,” the older man said, shaking hands with each of them. “Y’all feel free to leave your vehicle here and walk across to the diner.”
“Thank you,” Ryder said, turning in that direction. To his surprise, Jeri hung back.
“Maybe you’d like to join us,” she said to the Realtor. “You’ve missed your lunch, too. My treat.” She sounded apologetic, as if she knew she’d given him a hard time.
Smiling, Tolly shook his head. “Thanks, but I have calls to make. And the diner is happy to deliver.”
He pulled out his keys to unlock the door of his office. He went inside, and Ryder pointed to the diner across the street and a few yards down. Nodding, Jeri joined him, and they crossed the street. Ryder was thankful that he’d taped his toes again.
Just as he and Jeri reached the sidewalk, a tractor-trailer rig came barreling down the street and parked horizontally across several perpendicular spaces in front of the little restaurant. Because War Bonnet depended on the county sheriff’s office for law enforcement, with the sheriff himself based more than thirty miles away, Ryder doubted anything would be done about it, but the driver was taking a lot for granted. Thankfully, the street wasn’t exactly buzzing with activity that time of day. The dust hadn’t even settled when the driver’s door opened and a big, flabby fellow in faded jeans and shirtsleeves climbed down out of the cab. He smirked at them before storming into the diner.
“Boy, he’s got some nerve,” Jeri commented.
“Maybe he’s making a delivery,” Ryder said, giving the driver the benefit of the doubt.
He s
tepped around Jeri to pull open the glass and metal door for her, following her inside. They shed their coats and hung them on the coat rack by the door while the big trucker straddled a stool at the counter.
A small, pock-faced young man behind the counter grimaced and sighed. “Hello, Clyde. On your way to Ardmore again?”
“You know it. Where’s your sister?”
“She’s not here.”
This information made the trucker grind his teeth. “You better not be lying to me.”
“She’s not here.”
“You tell her I want to see her.”
“She knows that, Clyde. Maybe she doesn’t want to see you.”
The trucker slammed a palm against the countertop hard enough to make the salt and pepper shakers rattle.
“I ain’t interested in what you think about it, Nancy. Now, get my usual out here, and be quick about it.”
“Name’s Ned.”
“I say it’s Nancy.”
A thin, middle-aged woman came out of the kitchen, scowling. “Why don’t you try asking nicely, Clyde?”
“And what’ll you do if I don’t?” the trucker sneered. “Call the cops? By the time them sheriff deputies get here, I’ll have this whole place busted up and be on down the road.”
Scowling, the woman nodded at the boy, Ned, who brushed past her into the kitchen.
Hoping the ugliness was over, Ryder took Jeri by the arm to steer her toward a table, only to find the way blocked by a thick leg and a dirty boot. Clyde had swiveled on the stool and thrust out his foot to keep them from passing. Ryder paused, a practiced serenity filling him. He didn’t want to fight, but he would if he had to. Not, however, in anger. He stared silently at the brute, who wilted a little then abruptly leaned back, bracing his beefy forearms atop the counter.
“What’s your problem, cowboy?” the trucker goaded.
Ryder said nothing. Whatever he said, the trucker would use it against him, and silence was much more intimidating. Realizing that he wasn’t going to get a rise out of Ryder that way, the bully dropped his leg and switched his gaze to Jeri.
“Well, well,” he jeered, “got yourself a pretty little cowgirl, I see. Wonder if she ain’t better looking without that hat.” He reached out with his right hand, grinning wolfishly.
Ryder caught the man’s thick wrist in midair. The fool rocked forward as if getting to his feet, but Ryder used his thumb to apply pressure to a certain tendon, keeping the bully in place. His arm effectively paralyzed, poor old Clyde tried to push back, but Ryder easily folded the other man’s flabby limb against his chest. Stymied, Clyde swung with his left fist, but Ryder simply leaned to one side, avoiding the blow, and tightened his grip.
The man’s eyes went wide, and after a moment he gasped. “You’re gonna break it!”
“Wouldn’t want to do that,” Ryder said calmly. “How would you drive if I broke your wrist?”
For a long moment, the big lug just sat there, breathing heavily. Then he threw back his head and bawled, “Forget that order!” Ryder immediately relaxed his grip somewhat and backed up a half step. Clyde lurched to his feet, growling, “I wouldn’t eat in this filthy joint if it was the only place in town!”
Ryder felt no need to point out that the diner was the only place to eat in War Bonnet. Instead, he said, “You’ll want to leave, then.” With that, he released his hold.
The big thug glared, red-faced, and stomped toward the door, shaking his hand. Ryder turned to watch him go. When the heavy glass door swung closed behind the troublemaker, Ryder turned back to the counter and the woman now standing behind it.
“Sorry about that.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me!” she declared, grinning. “That slug’s been making trouble for us ever since my daughter refused to go out with him. It’s been so bad, her little brother’s been working her shift so she could avoid Clyde.”
“I see. Well, if I were you, I’d call the sheriff and make a formal complaint.”
“Another one, you mean. Yep, I’ll do that. Maybe they’ll finally track him down and put the fear of God into him.”
“We can hope,” Ryder said, glancing at Jeri.
Seeing her hat reminded him that he still wore his own. Lifting it off, he waved it toward a table. She pivoted and began swerving through the chairs to a spot in the corner. Ryder followed, wondering what she was thinking. She didn’t meet his gaze and spoke only to the waitress. The woman left menus and water glasses, treated Ryder to another smile, and recommended the chicken fried steak.
“That’ll work,” Ryder said, not even looking at the menu.
Jeri chose vegetable soup and a ham sandwich. The waitress gathered their menus and hurried to the kitchen. Sitting with her hands in her lap, Jeri studied the Formica tabletop. Ryder waited her out.
After a long moment, she suddenly looked up and said, “I guess you’re used to dealing with bullies.”
He shook his head and shrugged. “You could say that.”
Her gaze slid to the side and back again. “You ever have to do that with your brother?”
Ryder blinked and dropped his chin, momentarily puzzled. He had to think through that comment before her meaning became clear. He chuckled. “Are you talking about Wyatt?”
“He is the top man at the ranch, isn’t he?”
“He is. So what?”
She shrugged. “He seems like he rides you pretty hard. I just can’t help wondering if Jake found something else to do so he wouldn’t have to put up with him.”
Laughing, Ryder said, “It’s not like that.”
“No?”
“Not at all. Wyatt’s the big brother. He’s had to be in charge since he was fifteen. Jake and I were just ten and five when our mom died. Running the businesses was all Dad could manage, so Wyatt took over everything else. Eventually, he took over the businesses, too. It was a big load, and there were times when Jake and I gave him all kinds of trouble. But I’ve never doubted for a moment that Wyatt loves us. And we love him. I love him. And I’ll always be grateful for everything he’s done for me.”
She stared at him, obviously disturbed, but she said nothing more.
When the food came, the waitress left the check beside his plate. Ryder didn’t even turn it over until they were done, but he quickly saw that they’d been charged only for Jeri’s meal. Smiling, he shook his head and reached for his wallet. Jeri reached over then and snatched the small rectangle of paper out of his hand.
“I’ll take care of this. You’re here at my request, after all.” When she saw that he’d been treated to a free meal, she frowned. “You’ve sure charmed that woman.”
Ryder grinned. “It’s always wise to get in good with the local diner waitress. Unlike old Clyde, I won’t have to worry about what winds up in my food.”
Jeri looked surprised. Then she burst out laughing again.
“Good point.”
Ryder couldn’t help liking the Jeri who laughed and bantered playfully. He decided that she’d given Tolly a hard time because she was nervous about making such a large purchase, and who could blame her? She was only interested in about a quarter section, 160 acres, but that still required a considerable monetary outlay, especially if the property had a house and outbuildings on it.
What difference did it make if she didn’t find anything out here, anyway? At best, she was a temporary addition to his life, nothing more. And he’d be wise not to forget it.
* * *
They left the diner soon after finishing their meal and drove over to exercise her horses. Glad had been restless and moody that morning, much like Jeri felt now. After spending the entire morning in Ryder’s company and witnessing that encounter with the hateful bully at the diner, she could use a good workout. Tending her horses absorbed her full attention, which helped clear her mind and allowed her to order he
r thoughts. She had a lot to consider, and it was all troubling.
For one thing, she couldn’t quite convince herself that Ryder was still using steroids. True, he didn’t look much different than he had more than a year ago, but the man was unfailingly calm and pleasant, whatever the provocation. That just wasn’t consistent with steroid abuse. Her mom wouldn’t want to hear that, though, and Dena expected Jeri to call this afternoon with an update. Jeri had to decide what to say to her mother.
After saddling Glad, she cleaned his fetlock support braces before mounting and giving him a good run. Ryder walked the mares, limping along on his sore toes. With the sun shining and the ground free of ice everywhere except in the deepest shadows, Jeri decided to leave the mares in the corral attached to the stables until evening. Ryder had checked the weather and turned out his horses that morning.
They made the short drive back to the ranch in silence. Jeri spoke briefly with Kathryn then went straight to her room and called her mother. As soon as the usual greetings were out of the way, Dena anxiously asked how “it” was going.
Jeri sighed. “He’s not what I expected. I guess I pictured a selfish, egotistical maniac, but he’s not like that at all. He’s...quiet. Gentle.”
“A quiet, gentle, ruthless murderer!” her mother erupted. “It’s a front. What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see that it’s all an act?”
“Mom, I’ve broken his toes. Nothing. I’ve interfered with his work, and he’s responded with patience. I’ve insulted his family, only to have him laugh. I’ve complained about anything and everything. He just smiles in a slightly pitying way and teases me. Today, he put a bully in his place without so much as raising his voice. If that’s an act, it’s a good one.”
“All you have to do is make him lose his temper,” her mother reminded her. “Then we can file a new complaint and demand another drug test. That will be enough to get our case reopened, and finally, finally, he’ll pay for murdering your brother!”
