Fugitive Fiancée

by Kristin Gabriel

  But despite her logical thinking, a tingle of excitement rippled through her. Not only had Garrett kissed her, he’d kissed her not knowing she was heir to the Casville fortune. He’d wanted Mimi for herself, not for her money or the power the Casville name could yield.

  But the heady feeling faded when she sat down to put on Shelby’s cowboy boots. Her feet were swollen and still very sore from her barefoot trek down the gravel road, making the boots almost impossible to pull on.

  “Mimi?” Garrett’s shout carried down the hallway. “Let’s go!”

  Gritting her teeth, she tugged hard, finally pulling on the right boot. Swallowing a sob of pain, she reached for the left boot. She could do this. She had to do this—to prove to Garrett she wasn’t some spoiled city girl. And to prove it to herself.

  By the time she reached the kitchen, her feet had molded themselves to the leather boots, and the pain had receded a little. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, ready to face another day on the range. “Sorry I took so long.”

  “I made us some fried-egg sandwiches and coffee to take with us.” Garrett grabbed two paper bags off the counter, along with two small thermoses. “We can eat on the way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the north pasture. I’d like to move the cows closer to the barn before they start calving. Oh, and grab one of those yellow slickers from the mud porch. It looks like rain.”

  Mimi followed him out the back door, slipping the slicker over her head. Hubert ran along beside her, barking shrilly and nipping at her heels. Then he spun in circles, chasing his tail, obviously excited to start the day.

  She looked at the ominous black clouds filling the sky and heard a low rumble of thunder in the distance. Garrett had told her to expect to work rain or shine, so she kept her mouth shut as she followed him to the truck. Except this morning he walked right past the truck and headed for the barn. Mimi quickened her pace to catch up with his long strides.

  The sweet smell of hay mingled with the earthy scent of horses when he opened the barn door. “I’ve saddled up Pooh for you,” he said, motioning toward a far stall. “He shouldn’t give you any problems.”

  Mimi smiled. “Pooh?”

  “Shelby named him.” Garrett stuffed his thermos and breakfast sack into a saddlebag. “Let’s go.”

  Mimi led the dappled gelding out of the barn just as a light, icy drizzle began to fall. She patted Pooh’s velvety nose, thankful that her father had insisted on riding lessons when she was eight. Horseback riding was the one activity on this ranch she knew she could handle.

  Until it started to rain.

  Mimi had done most of her riding in an enclosed arena. She wasn’t used to having the wind whip rain into her face or maneuvering around mud puddles. Thankfully, the slicker kept most of her body dry, and the hot coffee kept her warm.

  “How much farther?” she called to Garrett, who was one horse length ahead of her.

  “Only another mile,” he yelled over the rumble of thunder above them.

  She took the last bite of her cold, soggy egg sandwich, then reached down to pat the neck of her horse. Poor Pooh was trudging through mud up to his fetlocks. Mimi wished she’d thought to bring along a pocketful of sugar cubes to reward him.

  At last they reached the north pasture, where twenty wet and obviously pregnant Texas longhorn cows stood unmoving as the horses approached. They didn’t look happy, and Mimi didn’t blame them one bit.

  Garrett climbed off his horse and swung open the wide gate. Then he walked over to her, rainwater running off his cowboy hat as he looked at her on her horse. “We’ll herd them along that shallow ravine until we reach the corral just east of the barn.”

  Herd them? She glanced at the truculent cows, then at Garrett. “What if they don’t want to go?”

  “Then we’ll be out here in the rain a hell of a long time,” he said, trudging to his horse. He climbed on, then trotted into the pasture.

  Mimi followed, wishing he’d provided a few more details. Exactly how did one herd cattle? Was she supposed to yell at them? Wave her arms in the air? Give them a map?

  She watched Garrett ride his horse along the perimeter of the herd, and she did the same on the opposite side. The cows slowly lumbered toward the gate. Garrett and Mimi gradually contracted the perimeter until the cows were in a tight group. The herd began to head through the open gate, rain still falling from the sky and soaking into their thick hides.

  Mimi was just congratulating herself on how easy this herding business was when one of the cows balked and turned right in front of her, galloping back into the pasture. She looked frantically at Garrett, who was busy keeping the cattle moving through the gate and hadn’t noticed the escape. She opened her mouth to call for help, then closed it again. Somehow she knew a real ranch hand wouldn’t run to the boss each time something went wrong. Besides, it was just one cow. How hard could it be to bring her back to the herd?

  She tugged on Pooh’s reins, wheeling the horse around and galloping into the pasture after the stray cow. The animal stared at her for a long moment with soulful brown eyes. Rainwater glistened on the long, sharp horns. Then the cow turned and bolted into the ravine.

  Mimi glanced over her shoulder at Garrett. He sat on his horse watching her as the rest of the cattle moved meekly through the gate. She lifted her arm and waved to him. “Go on,” she shouted. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  He hesitated, then waved to her before following the rest of the herd.

  She turned her attention to the recalcitrant cow. “All right, I know it probably isn’t any fun to have to move to a new place in the rain, but you really don’t have any choice in the matter.”

  The cow ignored her, lowering its head to tug on a wilted weed. Mimi edged her horse closer, hoping she didn’t spook the cow. It turned and looked at her, contentedly chewing on the weed, half of it sticking out of its mouth.

  “Look, I know I’m new at this,” she said, gently nudging Pooh’s flanks to move the horse even closer. Pooh tossed his head in the air to protest the idea, but Mimi remained firm. “But I’m trying to make a good impression on Garrett. He’ll kick my butt back to Austin if I can’t do a simple job like herding.”

  The cow kept chewing, seemingly unmoved by Mimi’s plight. Thunder rumbled in the sky, and a gust of wind blew the hood of the slicker off her head. She reached to grab it as rain plastered her hair over her eyes.

  At that moment, the cow decided Pooh was too close, and she lowered her head and charged. Pooh reared on his hind legs, and Mimi, her hands on the slicker hood instead of the reins, slid backward off the saddle, over Pooh’s broad rump and onto the soggy ground.

  She sat there, stunned for a moment. Then she wiped the rain and splattered mud off her face just in time to see Pooh lurch forward and take off at a fast gallop toward the far end of the pasture. The cow stood her ground, eyeing Mimi distrustfully.

  Mimi took one look at those sharp, lethal horns and scooted backward in the mud. “Nice cow.”

  The cow took a step toward her.

  “Go away, nice cow. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The cow took another step.

  She glanced frantically over her shoulder, but Garrett and the rest of the herd were out of sight. Pooh was keeping his distance, too, and had turned his attention to grazing. Mimi swallowed hard as she turned to face the cow. Cold, wet mud had soaked through her jeans, and the jarring fall had given her one hell of a headache.

  So much for her expensive riding-academy lessons.

  As she continued to scoot backward, her hand closed over a hard, flattened dirt clod. She picked it up and hurled it at the cow. The clod bounced off the cow’s nose, making the animal snort and jump backward. Tasting success, Mimi picked up another clod and aimed for the same spot. The cow backed, turning away from Mimi. But Mimi wasn’t about to give up. She got to her feet and began gathering the flattened clods that lay scattered over the pasture.

 
; “Let’s go,” she cried to the cow, hurling a clod at the hind end. The cow bolted out of the ravine and began heading in the direction of the gate.

  Mimi kept up her improvisational herding technique, slipping and sliding in the mud. Her tailbone hurt almost as much as her feet, though the cold wind and icy rain were effectively numbing both. Her teeth chattered and her nose ran. She bent every few steps to pick up another clod to keep the cow moving. She kept her gaze focused on the cow’s tail, barely noticing when they finally reached the open gate.

  “’Bout time you got here.”

  She looked up to see Garrett sitting comfortably astride his horse, seemingly oblivious to the wind and the rain and the cold.

  She clenched her mouth shut to keep her lips from chattering, then pointed to the cow. “I got her.”

  “So I see.” He turned to watch the cow amble peacefully along the worn grass trail they had followed to the pasture.

  Mimi brushed her stringy, wet bangs out of her eyes. “Where’s the rest of the herd?”

  “I moved them already.”

  She blinked at him. “By yourself?”

  He nodded. “They’ve been on the trail before. Once I get them out of the pasture, they pretty much know the way. They know there will be fresh hay waiting for them, too.”

  She’d just spent the past hour trying to get one cow out of the pasture, while Garrett had moved the entire rest of the herd all the way to the corral. She suddenly felt very tired.

  He rode up beside her and extended his hand. “Need a lift?”

  She grabbed his hand and let him pull her up behind him on the saddle. His horse shifted slightly at the extra weight, but settled quickly with a hushed word from Garrett.

  Since she wasn’t exactly in the mood to take another dive from a horse, she wrapped her arms firmly around Garrett’s waist. His warmth quickly penetrated her slicker, and Mimi scooted even closer to him.

  He turned his bay gelding and started following the cow.

  “What about Pooh?” she asked, still slightly embarrassed that she’d lost her horse.

  “We’ll come back and get him after this last cow is safe in the corral. If a cow bolts once, they’re likely to do it again, and I don’t want to search all over the hill country for one stray cow.”

  “Aren’t you afraid Pooh might run away?”

  He shook his head, inadvertently causing the rainwater collecting in the brim of his cowboy hat to splash into her face. “Horses are loyal animals. He’ll come home eventually.”

  She realized this wasn’t the first time he’d spoken of loyalty and wondered why it was so important to him. But she was too tired and wet to ask. Nestling against his back, she laid her head on his shoulder and let her eyelids droop for a moment. It wasn’t even noon yet, and she was completely exhausted.

  The next thing she knew, Garrett was gently nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. “Hey, wake up. We’re home.”

  She blinked and sat up straight, then let Garrett help her off the horse. Home. The word had never sounded so good. She hoped Garrett would build a huge, roaring fire.

  “You go on in,” he said. “I’ve got a few chores left to do.”

  She headed gratefully to the mud porch located at the back of the house. Not even bothering to hide her limp, she willed herself to take one step after another despite the pain in her feet. Once inside, she hung up her slicker, wiped her muddy boots on the mat. Then she looked into the small round mirror above the porch sink. The face looking back at her resembled something dragged out of a swamp.

  One thing was for certain. Garrett Lord wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her again.

  GARRETT STOOD outside the mud porch, letting the rain wash down on him while he tried to get his body under control. He’d never been so aroused by a woman before. Especially not one who looked like a dirty, drowned kitten. But the way she’d pressed up against him in the saddle had sent his blood racing south. Her arms had been wrapped tightly around his waist, those slender, dainty hands only inches from the fly of his jeans.

  He groaned under his breath and leaned against the back door of the house. When he’d made the deal with Mimi, he’d expected her to be the one to suffer. Not him. Granted, he knew he was attracted to her, but that kiss last night had ignited a fire inside him that refused to be quenched.

  How the hell would he survive the next two days?

  The answer was obvious. He wouldn’t. Which meant he had to make her see what she was really in for as a ranch hand. He’d been going easy on her, expecting her to fold. She had gumption—he’d give her that.

  He turned abruptly and stepped inside the mud porch, almost tripping over Mimi. She sat on an old rag rug, tugging hard on one of her muddy boots.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Having problems?”

  “You could say that,” she snapped, dropping her foot on the floor with a loud thud. “What took you so long?”

  “I rode back to the pasture to get Pooh.” He knelt beside her. “I take it you need some help.”

  She waved in frustration at her boots. “They’re stuck.”

  “You should have told me they were too tight.”

  “They weren’t until it started to rain,” she retorted, as if the weather were his doing. Then she sighed. “All right, they were a little snug this morning when I put them on. My feet were swollen.”

  He frowned. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’d think I was just making up an excuse to get out of working.”

  “You won’t be any good to me at all if you’re hobbled up.” Guilt nibbled at him. He should have realized this might happen. Her feet had been torn up after walking barefoot to his ranch. And yesterday she’d broken in a new pair of boots. New to her, anyway.

  “Just get them off,” she whispered. Her muddy face was etched in misery, and her wet hair had come undone from its ponytail and hung in stringy tendrils around her cheeks.

  He ran his fingers over the wet leather, then gripped the heel of one boot with both hands. She groaned low in her throat as he tugged hard, but the boot didn’t move.

  He rose to his feet. “We’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  She looked at him warily. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

  He smiled. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, you might enjoy it.” While she sat on the floor, he straddled her outstretched legs, his back to her. “Okay, give me a foot.”

  She held up one foot between his legs and he grasped it with both hands. “Now what?”

  “Now you need to apply some leverage. Put your other foot on my butt and push as hard as you can.”

  “You’re right,” she said as she followed his instructions, “I might enjoy this, after all.”

  He pulled while she pushed, and after several long seconds, the boot came off with a loud whoosh.

  “We did it!” She held out her other booted foot and placed her stocking foot on his backside.

  Garrett began pulling again, trying to ignore the way her slender foot molded to him. After what seemed an eternity, the second boot came off, as well.

  Mimi slumped back on her bent elbows with a blissful sigh. “I think this is the happiest moment of my life.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a pretty boring life.” He held out a hand and hoisted her to her feet, noting how she winced as she walked into the kitchen.

  “I’ve sure never appreciated the little things before,” she said over her shoulder. “Like dry clothes and a warm house.”

  “Don’t forget lunch.”

  She moved slowly toward the refrigerator. “I’ll make us some sandwiches.”

  “You go change clothes,” he ordered, moving toward the refrigerator. “I’ll take care of lunch.”

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER she’d washed all the mud off her body and changed into a pair of clean denim jeans and a blue T-shirt. She left her sore feet bare, then padded to the laundry room to deposit her we
t, mud-soaked clothes in the washing machine. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Garrett had set the table.

  “Sit down,” he ordered, placing a loaf of fragrant garlic bread on the table.

  “This isn’t fair,” she said, reluctantly taking a seat in the nearest kitchen chair. “I’m willing to do my part. I’ll bet you don’t normally serve your ranch hands lunch.”

  “Actually, we take turns. When I hire on a cowboy, all I expect him to do is to help take care of the ranch, not take care of me. Sharing the cooking duties just saves us both time in the long run.”

  “So you’ll let me make lunch tomorrow?”

  “Definitely.” He sat opposite her. “As long as you don’t make meat loaf. I’ve never been partial to meat loaf.”

  “You’ve got it, cowboy.” She rested her chin on her hands. “So what are we having today?”

  He took a sip of his iced tea. “Lasagna.”

  She blinked. “Lasagna? When exactly did you find the time to make lasagna?”

  “I do a lot of cooking and freezing before calving season. It’s a busy time, so it’s either prepare ahead or get used to a lot of peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “I’m very impressed.”

  “Wait until you taste it,” he said, setting down his glass. “You might change your mind.”

  “At the moment, I could eat a horse.” She grinned. “No, make that a cow. Specifically, the one who wanted to play tag with me today.”

  “The important thing is that you won,” he said, then laughed. “That poor cow never had a chance once you started flinging those cow patties. You’ve got a good arm.”

  “Cow patties?” she said weakly. “You mean…”

  His grin widened. “Are you telling me you didn’t know what they were?”

  “I thought they were dirt clods.” She licked her lips, feeling a hot blush crawl up her cheeks. “I mean, I know they were a little flat, but I figured that was from the cows stepping on them.”