The Reluctant Rancher

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The Reluctant Rancher Page 9

by Patricia Mason


  Luke dismounted first. He helped her from the saddle and held her upright until she found her balance. “Go on in. I’ll take care of Lady Jane.”

  Mary nodded, reluctantly tearing her eyes from his perfect physique. He epitomized everything she had ever wanted in a man. And so much more. Shaky legs carried her inside the tiny dwelling that proved to be much roomier than she would have believed.

  A blackened, pot-bellied stove sat in the center and served as both a source of heat and the means by which a meal could be prepared. A rickety wooden table with two chairs and an old fashioned tin cabinet, more rust than white, completed the so-called kitchen. The room housed only one other item of furniture, the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Determinedly she turned her back on the inviting softness.

  Now shivering in earnest, she removed her wet slicker and equally sodden shoes. A box of matches lay on the shelf above the stove and a stack of kindling rested on the floor. She soon coaxed a small flicker into a roaring fire and the pleasant warmth quickly scattered the chill in the air.

  She held her hands to the greedy flames and closed her eyes. Immediately an image of Luke imposed itself on the backs of her closed lids. The kiss they’d shared on the back of the horse had left little doubt that he wanted her. She’d felt the fine tremor in his hands as he’d held her and heard the raggedness of his breathing as they rode.

  But Lord help her, she didn’t know what to do. If he offered, should she take the passion in the dark of the night, or hold out for her heart’s desire and find herself still alone and lonely come the morning light?

  One thing was perfectly clear, she loved Luke Tanner.

  But she wanted the whole enchilada – home, hearth, family, and yes, the passion filled nights. She wanted the world.

  “Oh, Lord, which way is right?” she muttered out loud, more confused than she’d ever been in her entire life.

  “What did you say?” Luke closed the door, shutting out the now driving rain.

  The sight of him, all muscled, shiny wet, and provocatively male, sent more shivers shooting through her. She licked dry lips. “Um, I said we need some light.”

  Luke hung his hat by the door and joined her at the stove. “I’m sure there are candles or lanterns around here somewhere. I’m going to radio the ranch and tell them we’re safe.”

  Grateful for any activity that would take her mind off the conflicting feelings he could so easily arouse, she made a quick survey of the cabinet’s contents. She found candle stubs, a tin of saltine crackers and several packages of dehydrated vegetable soup.

  “Well, at least we won’t starve,” she said as he finished his conversation with his grandfather. The mare was still in labor but Joseph thought everything would be alright. He told them not to chance coming home until morning.

  “Don’t go looking like that,” Luke laughed as she opened the tin and took a cautious bite, grimacing at the stale taste.

  “Like what?”

  “As if you’d like to take a bite out of something else.”

  Mary quirked an eyebrow. “Hmm, not a bad idea. I’d give anything for a big piece of steak right now. Even raw.”

  He smiled at her savage expression. “If worse comes to worse, I’ll go get our well-fed friend and we’ll have a barbecue.”

  “Luke Tanner,” she gasped. ”You wouldn’t dare!”

  “No,” his eyes twinkled. “I wouldn’t, but at least I made you smile.”

  “Why shouldn’t I smile?”

  “Exactly my point. You’re alone in a cabin, miles from anywhere, with the richest man in the county. Most women would give their eyeteeth to be in your position. What more could you want?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  What more indeed? Mary thought as he searched the upper cabinets she hadn’t been able to reach. Maybe a wedding ring and a dark haired baby boy.

  “A working commode would be nice.” She was amazed at how normal her voice sounded.

  “Well, you can’t have everything in life.”

  “Don’t I know it,” she mumbled. Luke Tanner could have any woman he wanted. Why should he want plain, overweight Mary Carter?

  A moment late he held up a battered tin coffee can. “We’re in business, darling. I’ll get us some water before I change. No sense getting wet again.”

  Full darkness had fallen by the time he returned. “I’m glad we decided to head here instead of going home. That rain’s freezing. While this water boils, I suggest we get out of these wet clothes.”

  At her startled gasp, she saw his lips twitch in sardonic amusement. “Unless you prefer to catch pneumonia, sweetheart.”

  Mary clutched the neck of her wet shirt. She had never let a man see her completely naked before, not even her doctor. While comfortable with her size and shape in general, she was not prepared to bare herself to Luke’s eyes and show him each and every imperfection of her flesh. Not yet anyway, she told herself honestly. And she knew when – or if – she did, it would be an act of commitment on her part.

  Trying to cover her nervousness, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, moaning as soon as the words left her mouth. “You don’t seem in any hurry to take off your pants.”

  He stilled, the candlelight cast a devilish gleam in his dark green eyes as he reached for the snap of his jeans. “Anytime you’re ready, lady. Anytime.”

  She cleared her clogged throat and glanced around wildly. “Is there someplace I can change?”

  After several heat filled seconds, he flicked his hand, indicating a room to the side. “The necessity’s over there. I’ll see if I can find something for us to wear while you dry off.”

  Mary hurried inside the small room and stood with her back pressed against the rough plank door. To her, sex was more than a joining of two bodies. It required the blending of souls. Was Luke ready for that kind of commitment?

  Just a few shards of light appeared around the edges of the door. She hadn’t thought to bring a candle with her. She’d been in too much of a hurry to escape the temptation presented by Luke Tanner. But she had no place to flee. Now she shivered in the darkness, stark naked, with a half-dressed man on the other side of a flimsy wooden door. Some improvement.

  “Mary?”

  She jumped at the knock on the door.

  “I found us something to wear.” The door opened and his long, tanned arm appeared inside, a flannel shirt dangled from his fingers.

  “Thanks.” She grabbed the garment and slammed the door shut, barely missing his knuckles as he moved his hand out of the way. His soft chuckle mocked her haste and the reason for it.

  She clenched the plaid material to her breast and willed the tremors in her body to go away.

  “Uh, Mary?”

  “What?”

  “Would you like a candle?”

  She opened the door just a crack and a candle and the box of matches came through. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, sweetheart. Any time.”

  She lit the candle and took stock of her surroundings. A chipped enamel sink stood against the outside corner of the room with a battered chamber pot wedged beneath it. A stack of rough looking towels lay folded on a lone pine shelf. She used one to give herself a rub down before donning the borrowed clothes. She thrust her arms into the sleeves of the shirt he had given her. The cuffs completely engulfed her hands. The garment must have been left behind by a big man, because it covered her from neck to mid-thigh. Thank God.

  Her legs did not make the most attractive picture in the world or so Mary thought. She had learned long ago that the right clothing could hide a multitude of sins – especially her over abundant thighs. Oh, well, not even her fairy godmother could change her now.

  She picked up the candle and left the bathroom. Luke warmed himself by the stove.

  “It feels good to be dry, doesn’t it?” He’d changed into a pair of dry jeans too. He took her wet clothes and hung them on a nail by the stove next to his.

  “Yes, it does.” Mary tugged
again at the bottom of the shirt as he turned around. Awareness flared between them and the air sizzled with a degree of desire previously unknown to Mary.

  Unable to hold his heated gaze she turned away. He had accomplished a lot while she’d hidden in the bathroom. Two bowls and spoons sat on the surface of the well worn table.

  “I guess the next thing we need to do is eat.” He turned to the stove where the tin of water boiled.

  She watched as he added the soup packets to the water and carried the fare to the table. Unnerved by his blatant maleness, she sat down and focused her attention on the soup in front of her. Not her brightest of moves. Now his broad chest filled her vision.

  “Eat up, honey. It won’t bite you.”

  “Would you stop doing that?” Mary snapped. She was overwhelmed by the feelings that flooded her mind and body.

  “Doing what?” Luke looked perplexed, his spoon poised half way to his mouth.

  “You know what.” She slapped her spoon against the table with a loud clank. ”Don’t you know how demeaning that is?”

  Luke lowered his own spoon and placed it beside his bowl.

  The action only served to inflame Mary’s already volatile temper. A temper caused by hormones raging out of control every time she looked at him. She leaned toward him, unmindful of the way the simple action caused her shirt to gape open, giving him an unrestricted view of her ample charms.

  “Um, sweetheart, I don’t think, you should…”

  “That’s the problem with your whole gender, Luke Tanner. You never think. At least not with your brain.”

  “And just what in your estimable opinion, do we men use to do our thinking?”

  Mary glared at him, hating herself for wanting to give into the humor twinkling in his eyes. She didn’t know why she had gotten so angry. Oh yeah, the little inner voice reminded her. You’re alone with the man you love and you're very, very afraid.

  “You know,” she sputtered, determined to hang on to the last shred of her ire. She hoped it would save her from an embarrassing situation.

  Luke leaned back in his chair.

  Mary’s eyes followed his movements, lingering with mouth-watering approval on each bulging bicep.

  “You think it’s demeaning for a man to call a woman honey or sweetheart, or whatever, is that right?”

  His voice was deceptively mild and Mary struggled to pull herself together. If he’d just put on a shirt she might make it through the night. But she couldn’t very well offer him hers, now could she? “Demeaning? Yes, I do. And so do most other women.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Luke moved again and Mary found herself mesmerized by the muscles dancing beneath his sleekly smooth skin. “You think it’s demeaning for a man to use a term of endearment when speaking to a woman, but it’s perfectly alright for a woman to ogle a man’s naked physique?”

  “What do you mean, ogle men’s bodies? That’s ridiculous.” Mary felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Well, damn how was she going to get out of this now?

  Again, Luke’s brows rose. “Is it? You mean you weren’t – aren’t,” he amended, noting the direction of her gaze. “Ogling my chest?”

  The silence stretched between them, the drumming of the rain on the tin roof the only sound to be heard. Mary darted a quick look at Luke’s face from beneath the thick veil of her lashes. She knew that stubborn look. He’d sit there all night long if she didn’t say something.

  “Oh, alright, I admit it.” Anger and embarrassment vied for top billing. Thankfully, anger won. “I was ogling you. But you were ogling me, too. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  Luke laughed, a soft sound that drew her gaze again. His hot look killed her anger and created an answering flame deep inside.

  “That’s too bad it doesn’t mean a thing to you, honey, because it means a lot to me.” His hoarse whisper raked across her sensitized nerves. “If you look a little lower, you’ll see exactly how much it means to me.”

  Mary’s hands trembled as she reached out and fidgeted with her spoon. Only the telltale pulse at the base of Luke’s throat gave any hint of his thoughts. He took the silverware from her hand and tangled his fingers with hers.

  “Come here.” He tugged her across the small space the separated them.

  Mary obeyed his command. She heard the scrape of his chair seconds before her body met his.

  Mary felt her whole body flood with joy.

  And love.

  It felt so good to think about it, to let it flow through her body and fill all the dark and lonely places that had felt empty for so many years. Lord, she thought, how had she done it? How had she buried this need, this longing, for so long?

  “Mary?”

  The look she bestowed on him answered the question as old as time itself. She knew they’d raced toward this moment since the dance. Since the day in the barn. She lowered her head and his lips met hers halfway. Their sighs of contentment mingled together.

  The desire-filled kiss blossomed with their longing. Mary wanted to shout for joy and cry all at the same time. Luke broke the kiss and brushed her hair back from her face in a tender caress. She knew she would give herself to him tonight, but as he continued to stare at her, her confidence plummeted. She’d seen that look before. Rejection. Disappointment. She struggled to free herself from his grasp.

  “Damn it, Mary, stop,” he growled and held her in place with a bruising force.

  “I’ve been rejected before, Luke. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.” After several minutes, she knew she couldn’t free herself. She stopped and held her body rigid and waited for him to release her.

  “That’s not it, baby. I want you. But not like this.” Ignoring her protest, he lifted her and carried her to the bed. He laid her gently upon the soft mattress. “All we’re going to do tonight is talk, Mary.” A slow, sexy grin split his face as he lowered his big body to hers. “And maybe engage in a little heavy petting.”

  Her heart melted at the look of intense longing in Luke’s glittering eyes. She wanted Luke Tanner. Wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had been a fire burning in her blood for days, for weeks. And if she was completely honest with herself, ever since that summer camp.

  And she was going to have him tonight and damn the consequences.

  Fully aware of the implications of her actions, Mary shifted her weight, plunging her leg between his, rubbing against his erection.

  “Be sure, Mary. Be very sure.”

  For only the second time in her life, Mary was completely certain about something. “I am, Luke. I am.”

  He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. His kiss was filled with passion. And promise. She returned the caress. She found the roof of his mouth and stroked it with her tongue. He tasted of soup and salt. All male. She heard him groan; then he became the aggressor again. His tongue moved past her lips, finding her sweetness and exploring it with a hard, questing motion. The kiss seemed to last forever.

  “Your hair has driven me crazy for the past two months.” He smoothed the long strands away from her face before his hand traveled down the soft fabric of her shirt. He cupped the roundness of her shoulders before his fingertips traced the burgeoning curves of her breasts. He lingered at her nipples. She moaned as he plucked them with his fingers. He started to lift her shirt but she stopped him. “Please, Luke. I’d like to keep it on.”

  “Why Mary?”

  Mary couldn’t meet his eyes. How could she tell the man who was about to become more intimate with her than any other human being on earth ever had, that she was afraid to let him see her completely naked? A lifetime of insecurities and inhibitions could not be shed with the discarding of a shirt.

  For an instant, Luke’s hands tightened on the fabric beneath his hand. She was afraid he would refuse her request. His fingers loosened his grip and eased up towards the neck of her shirt. He unfastened the buttons, stopping just below her breasts. “I want to see you, baby. Please let me.”

  Mary’s eyes filled
with tears as he waited for her to reveal herself to his eyes. She knew he would never force her or scold her, no matter what she decided. But she wasn’t ready, Instead, she pulled the flannel aside, baring her breasts to him. For an endless moment, all he did was stare. Then he lowered his head, covering her with soft, burning kisses. “God you are beautiful.”

  With a reverent touch, he covered one breast with his hand and squeezed the soft mound until the nipple hardened into a tight little bud “I’ve thought of you every night, ached for you since you came to the ranch.”

  Mary couldn’t answer, her breath had been lost the moment he’d touched her. His hand cupped her hips bringing her into contact with his hard male form. His body was cradled on top of hers. She moved her legs restlessly, seeking his strength.

  He rose from the bed and removed his jeans. His mouth was swollen from the intensity of the kisses they had shared. He bowed his head as if in prayer. She knew what was causing his restraint. Holding out her hand she urged him to her. “Luke, please love me.”

  He lowered his body to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.” She felt precious and all the more desirable for his concern.

  He moved his hips in a slow circular motion, letting her feel just how much he wanted her. Mary gasped at the full evidence of his desire.

  “I’m on fire,” he whispered. “Burning. . .”

  “I am too,” she moaned. She twisted and arched beneath him. Never had she felt such intense longing, such overwhelming sensations.

  Her hand wandered over his muscled back. She snuggled deeper into his arms, welcoming his strong embrace. She had never felt so safe. “I love you, Luke. I’ll always love you.”

  The quiet declaration didn’t seem to startle him and Mary wondered how long he had known about her feelings.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mary,” he said quietly. “Love lasts as long as the night. No longer.”

  “That’s not true,” she denied.

  “We’ll take it slow. See what happens.”

  “Okay,” Mary agreed, meeting his mouth as it descended toward hers, but promised that one day she would show this reluctant rancher just how much she loved him.

 

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