The Rancher's Hired Fiancee

by Judy Duarte

  Okay, so maybe that was partly his fault. He’d made a point of not calling her each time he’d thought of her, each time he remembered the night they’d made love.

  Her steps slowed as she reached Eva’s minivan, and she turned to face him with a bright-eyed smile. “I’m going to help out in the Fine Arts Department at Wexler High School starting next Monday.”

  She’d been right—he wouldn’t have guessed that in a week of Mondays. Maybe he’d been wrong about her hightailing it back to New York and leaving him in the dust. Maybe she was finding her niche in Brighton Valley.

  “How did that come about?” he asked, wondering if it meant she had plans to stay in town indefinitely.

  “A couple of days ago, Jillian Hollister stopped by the Walker Ranch. I was in the living room, coaching Kaylee and Shauna on their routine. She watched for a while, and then she suddenly lit up and told me that the Wexler High dance teacher is out on maternity leave. Apparently, some of the kids in class had wanted to perform in the talent show, but the substitute teacher they’d brought in has no dancing experience—if you can imagine that.”

  Actually, he was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of her taking on a job like that. “So you volunteered to help?” Ray asked.

  “Well, when Jillian asked if I’d work with them, I told her I’d be happy to—at least until the night of the talent show.”

  That was great news. And promising. He liked thinking that she was getting more involved in the community. Maybe she wouldn’t be so eager to leave town.

  “Sounds like you’re settling in,” he said.

  Settling in?

  Oh, no. Catherine didn’t want him to get that idea. Her life, her career, her very identity was in New York. And with Dancing the Night Away now a go, she had no reason to stay in Brighton Valley much longer.

  Well, no reason other than Ray and the twins she’d come to love. And standing outside with him in the silver glow of a lover’s moon, she was almost tempted to reconsider.

  Almost.

  As she struggled to shake off the sentiment that tempted her to change her course and ruin her chances to ever perform on the Broadway stage again, Ray placed his hand on her back, sending a spiral of heat to her core.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night with me?” he asked.

  No, she wasn’t sure. In fact, she wasn’t sure about anything at all right now, especially with that blasted full moon shining overhead and the musky scent of Ray’s cologne taunting her with the promise of another wonderful evening spent in his bed.

  But if she weakened, then where would she be?

  As if he might somehow hold the clue, she looked into his eyes, where the intensity of his gaze dared her to change her mind about staying with him, not only tonight, but in Brighton Valley indefinitely.

  Yet how could she give it all up—the dream career, the bright lights, not to mention the culture-rich opportunities in a metropolis she’d grown to love?

  As they continued to study each other in silence, his hand remained on her back. He stroked his thumb in a gentle caress, setting her heart on end.

  How could such a simple movement be so arousing, so alluring?

  She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to remain strong. After a beat, she said, “Staying with you tonight isn’t a good idea. My life is in Manhattan. And I’ll be going back one day soon. When that happens, it’ll be easier if we haven’t grown too attached to each other.”

  His thumb stopped moving, then his hand slowly lowered until he pulled it away altogether. The loss of his touch stirred up a chill in the night air, leaving her to crave his warmth.

  And to crave him.

  “You’re probably right,” he said.

  Under normal circumstances, she would have been happy to have him agree with her. Yet there was something bittersweet about being right, especially on a night like this.

  As they faced each other in the moonlight, Ray reached out again, this time placing his hand along her jaw. His thumb brushed her cheek, warming her once again and deepening her craving for more of him.

  “Would it also be a bad idea if I kissed you good-night?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to tell him yes. But would it be so bad to end their evening together with a kiss?

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. Her better judgment, which had been battling desire as if her life depended upon it, lost the will to fight any longer and surrendered to temptation.

  She slipped her arms around his neck, and with her lips parting, raised her mouth to his. The moment their tongues touched, the memory of their lovemaking came rushing back, making her relive each stroke, each caress, each ragged breath until she was lost in a swirl of heat.

  This was so not a good-night kiss. Instead, it whispered, Take me to bed and stay with me forever.

  When they finally came up for air, Catherine’s head was spinning.

  Really spinning.

  She blinked, trying to right her world, yet a burst of vertigo slammed into her. As she grabbed on to Ray to steady herself, her fingers dug into his shoulder. Still, she swayed on her feet.

  If he hadn’t caught her, she might have collapsed on the ground.

  What in the world was happening to her?

  “Are you okay?” he asked, humor lacing his voice as if he thought the kiss had a bigger effect on her than it had.

  Again, she blinked. Moments earlier, when she’d been kissing him, she’d been so overcome with passion and desire, that she might have described it as head-spinning and knee-buckling. But the buzz she was feeling right now was much more than that.

  She was actually dizzy.

  Was there any chance she might faint?

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, this time taking her reaction a little more seriously.

  As her head began to clear, she managed a smile and tried to downplay whatever had happened. “I guess I lost my head for a moment.”

  “Me, too. And you can’t tell me that’s a bad thing.”

  Sure it was. Losing her head might lead to losing her heart, and that would be a very bad thing.

  But she wasn’t sure where the dizziness had come from. It seemed to be easing now. But was it safe for her to drive home? The winding road that led to the ranch was pretty dark in spots.

  “You know,” she said, “I’m feeling a little lightheaded. I must have eaten something that didn’t sit right with me. Maybe I should stay the night.”

  He brightened. “If that’s the case, you shouldn’t be driving.”

  “But I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she added.

  He stiffened, as if her sudden change of course took him completely aback. But then, why wouldn’t it? She’d been struggling with her feelings for him ever since the night they’d slept together. And she was still vacillating when it came to knowing what to do about it.

  “No,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “But I’m the one making unreasonable demands,” she said.

  He placed his hand on her back, disregarding her comment. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

  She didn’t know what he would expect of her once they entered his apartment, but she’d meant what she’d said. She would stay the night, but they wouldn’t be sleeping together.

  Too bad her hormones were insisting otherwise.

  Chapter Ten

  Once inside the apartment, Ray told Catherine to sit on the sofa. Then he went into the kitchen, filled a glass with water and took it to her.

  He watched her take several sips, all the while checking out her coloring, which was a little pale.

  “Are you feeling any better now?” he asked.

  She nodded. “That dizzy spell seems to be over. If I wait a little while, I can probably drive home—”

  “You’re not going anywhere. There’s no need to risk driving home in the dark when you can stay here.”

  She nodded, then glanced down
at the glass of water she held. When she looked up, her gaze snagged his. “Thank you, Ray.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know. Understanding, I guess.”

  To be honest, he didn’t understand any of it—her dizziness, of course. But her reluctance to make love again, when it had been so good between them, confused him. So did her change in attitude toward him, the distance between them, the stilted conversations that had once flowed so smoothly.

  What had happened to the old Catherine, the woman he’d hired to be his fiancée, the one who’d at least pretended to hang on his every word and to gaze in his eyes with love?

  He’d come to appreciate that woman. Not that he didn’t appreciate the new Catherine. He just didn’t understand her, that’s all.

  Was she playing some kind of game with him?

  He hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “Listen,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  His comment hung in the air for a couple of beats, then she slowly nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  Then why was it so hard to broach the subject, to throw it out there? To encourage her to share her thoughts?

  Finally, he said, “I miss the camaraderie we once had.”

  “So do I. But making love…changed things.”

  It certainly had. He supposed it always did—no matter who the couple was or what their stories.

  “Why do you think that happened?” He had his own ideas, of course. But how did she feel about it?

  “Because a relationship between us won’t work. I mean, your life is clearly in Brighton Valley, and mine is in Manhattan. So even though the sex was incredible—and we seem to…care and respect each other—getting any further involved will only make it difficult for us when I leave.”

  She had a point, because he would damn sure miss her when she left town. And while it made sense that they protect themselves from getting in too deep, he couldn’t help wishing that things could be different. That she would decide to make a life for herself in Texas.

  But that was as unlikely as him selling his ranch and moving to New York City.

  It would never happen.

  “Are you sorry we made love?” he asked.

  She smiled, her eyes filling with a sentiment he couldn’t quite peg. “No, I don’t regret that at all. But I do regret knowing nothing will ever become of it.”

  The truth in her words poked a tender spot inside him, just like a spur jabbing him in the flanks. And he had to concede that she was right.

  “At this point,” she added, “we can walk away with a nice memory. But if we get any more involved—or if that involvement is emotional—it might be tough to say goodbye.”

  It might be tough to do that anyway. But he shook off that thought as well as the implication that she could actually develop feelings for him.

  “You’ve got a point,” he admitted. “We don’t live in the same worlds.”

  “If we did, things would be different.”

  Again the truth she spoke, the reality of the situation in which they’d found themselves, gave Ray another spurlike jab.

  If he could come up with any kind of argument, he would have laid it on the table. But there wasn’t one to be had.

  “I’m glad we got that out of the way,” he said. “Now all we have to do is decide on the sleeping arrangements. And like I told you before, I’m taking the sofa.”

  It had been an easy decision to make—the only one.

  Yet three hours later, Ray lay stretched out on the sofa in the living room, trying his best to sleep and not having any luck at all.

  She’d told him that she didn’t want to risk an emotional involvement with him. And he could see the wisdom in that.

  But each time he closed his eyes and tried to drift off, he wondered if he’d already gotten in too deep.

  If so, she’d been right.

  It was going to hurt like hell when she left town.

  * * *

  Over the next two weeks, Catherine got so caught up at Wexler High School with the talent show rehearsals, as well as with Kaylee and Shauna, that she hadn’t been able to spend much time with Ray or go to many of those social engagements he’d been paying her to attend.

  Okay, so that was the excuse she’d been giving him.

  He didn’t seem to mind, though. And that made things easier. After the heart-to-heart chat they’d had the night of Ernie Tucker’s birthday dinner, their conversations had been better, but they were still…a bit awkward.

  They’d attended the parade in Ernie’s honor the next morning, but that afternoon she’d felt a little nauseous and had decided to drive back to the Walker ranch instead of staying over to attend the ice cream social on Sunday.

  “I must have picked up a bug of some kind,” she’d told Ray, as she got ready to leave the parade. “First the dizziness last night, and now an upset stomach.”

  “Take care of yourself,” he’d said.

  And she had. She’d gone straight home, slipped into her nightgown and taken a nap.

  The dizziness and nausea had plagued her off and on for a while, although never enough to make her consider calling a doctor. And the busier she kept herself, the better she seemed to feel.

  Still, if she didn’t kick that bug soon, she’d have to make an appointment with a doctor, and she hated to see someone she didn’t know in Brighton Valley. But she’d deal with that if and when the time came.

  Now, as she prepared to walk up the stairwell to Ray’s apartment, she reached into her purse for the key. She’d told him she’d meet him at his place so they could attend an auction tonight, and she was a little early. But she’d just finished working with the high school dance troupe and couldn’t see any reason to drive all the way back to the ranch, then to town again.

  She carried a garment bag that held a dress she’d borrowed from Eva, as well as a pair of heels. So she had to transfer everything to one hand so she could fit the key into the lock.

  Once inside, she carried her change of clothes to the bathroom, where she would get dressed.

  Thirty minutes later, she’d taken a shower and slipped into the light blue dress. Then she’d freshened up her makeup and swept her hair into an elegant twist. By the time Ray arrived, she was ready to go.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said as he entered the apartment. When he spotted her in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of club soda, he froze in his tracks. As his gaze swept over her, an appreciative smile stretched across his face. “Nice dress. Is it new?”

  “Merely borrowed.”

  Something borrowed, something blue…

  Shaking off the thoughts of the wedding day ditty, she asked, “Did you have a good day?”

  “I sure did. And better yet, I heard that Jim Cornwall is doing much better and would like his job back in the not-so-distant future.”

  She took another sip of her drink, wishing it was ginger ale instead. Her stomach was feeling a little woozy again. “Have I met Jim?”

  “No, not yet. He’s the elected mayor, the one I’ve been filling in for.”

  Oh, that’s right. He’d fallen off a ladder while trimming a tree in his yard and had been seriously injured—a skull fracture if she remembered correctly.

  Catherine offered Ray a smile. “So that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “You bet it is. I had no idea how demanding the job would be, especially when it comes to all the social events I have to attend—like this one tonight.” Ray nodded toward the bedroom. “Give me a minute, and I’ll change clothes. Then we can go.”

  Catherine didn’t have to wait long. True to his word, Ray returned within minutes, wearing a sport jacket and tie. And they were soon in his car and on the way to the Wexler Valley Country Club.

  Tonight’s event was a dinner and an auction, which would benefit a local Boys and Girls Club that serviced both Brighton Valley and Wexler, the neighboring town.

  “You know,” she said, a
s they turned into the country club, “you make a great mayor. And the townspeople really seem to like you.”

  “Thanks. It’s been a good experience. But I’m eager to go back home and be a rancher again.”

  She could understand that.

  Ray parked his SUV in the lower lot, and the two made the uphill walk to the main dining room, where the dinner and silent auction would take place. As he opened the door for Catherine, they were met by the sound of a harpist playing just beyond the entry.

  “The music is a nice touch,” Catherine said.

  “Isn’t it?” He smiled, then placed his hand on her back as if nothing had changed between them. “That’s got to be Margo Reinhold, the wife of one of our councilmen. She’s the only one I know who plays the harp.”

  They’d no more than entered the main dining room, when Margo’s husband approached Ray, taking time to greet Catherine first.

  Ray turned to Catherine. “You remember Dale Reinhold, don’t you, honey?”

  “Yes, I do.” She reached out a hand to greet him. “It’s good to see you again.”

  After a little small talk, Dale said, “You heard the news about Jim Cornwall, didn’t you?”

  “I sure did.” Ray lobbed him a bright-eyed grin. “And I’ll be counting the days until he comes back.”

  “Maybe so. But you’ve been a darn good mayor. You really ought to think about running in the next election.”

  “Thanks. I’ll have to give it some thought.”

  Catherine had expected Ray to bring up all the work he needed to do on his ranch, but he didn’t. Was that because he’d actually enjoyed his stint as mayor?

  Either way, she had to agree with Dale. Ray had been doing a great job as mayor. And he was clearly respected by everyone in the community.

  As the men continued to talk, a waiter walked by with a tray of hors d’oeuvres—something deep fried and wrapped in bacon. The aroma snaked around Catherine, setting off a wave of nausea.

  Oh, dear. Not again. And not here.

  “Would you…” She cleared her throat, then issued an “Excuse me” before dashing off to find the ladies’ restroom.