The Kincaid Bride

Home > Other > The Kincaid Bride > Page 9
The Kincaid Bride Page 9

by Jackie Merritt


  “Only because you’ll have a harder time acting so pure and moral around Granddad with my presence reminding you that underneath that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-your-mouth exterior, you’re really nothing but a cad, a rake and a heel.”

  Her nasty attitude angered him. “If I’m all those things just because we made love, what does it make you?”

  “We didn’t make love. We had sex!” She kicked her horse, and when it took off running, she yelled back at Eli, “And what that makes me is stupid!”

  Again Eli found himself far behind her, but he was honestly afraid that if he got close enough to her he might paddle her behind. Had any woman ever infuriated him the way Melanie could?

  And he had to put up with her smart mouth until Sunday, which maybe he could tolerate with a little more patience if he also didn’t get almost crazed with desire every time he looked at her. Or thought of her. Or dreamed of her.

  “Dammit!” he shouted at the sky, extending both arms outward as though beseeching the gods to ease his misery.

  Melanie ate dinner with the men, ignored Eli as if he weren’t sitting only a few chairs down from her, then helped Irma clear the table, fill the dishwasher and scrub pots and pans. Irma chatted about this and that while they worked, and the minute the last counter was washed down and dried, she said, “Well, it’s off to bed for me.”

  “You retire this early?”

  “Honey, I’m up at four in the morning. What I’ll do now is take a bath, read or watch TV for about an hour—which always relaxes me—then go to sleep. Good night, dear. See you tomorrow. And thank you again for your help.”

  “You’re welcome, Irma. Sleep well.”

  Alone, Melanie wandered around the first floor. It was still light outside. The house felt big and lonely without Garrett and Collin, and finally she went outside and sat on the front porch.

  One of the yard dogs trotted around the house, and Melanie encouraged him to come to her. Warily, he approached and sniffed her hand, then lay down next to her rocker. Putting her head back, she let her thoughts wander. Was Eli an unusually good lover, or did her hormones simply respond to his more acutely than to other men’s? Could sex possibly be better for anyone than it had been for her today? Had it been as incredible for Eli?

  Such overwhelming sexual attraction could be dangerous, you know.

  Dangerous, how?

  What if you fall in love with him?

  Nonsense!

  Is it? Think about it. You’re only going to be here for three weeks, and one of those weeks is almost over.

  I am not going to fall in love! Good heavens, other than great sex, Eli Forrester and I have not one thing in common. I don’t even know who he really is, and I still believe he’s hiding something.

  “Melanie?”

  Raising her head and seeing Eli with one foot on the bottom step of the porch, she sat up straighter and said coolly, “Eli.”

  “You didn’t hear me walk up. Were you dozing?”

  “No, I was thinking,” she said flatly.

  “May I join you for a minute?”

  Looking at him in the fading sunlight, Melanie felt his sexual attraction again. She was already too involved with him, and in her heart she knew that what had occurred between them today could happen again. But she couldn’t say no and send him away. Apparently, he had something to say to her, and even though she might not like it, she wanted to hear what it was.

  Shrugging nonchalantly, as though he didn’t affect her an iota, she said, “Suit yourself.” Eli took the remaining steps and sat in the rocker next to hers. The dog got up and went to lie next to him, and Melanie muttered, “Traitor. You liked me just fine when I was the only one out here.”

  Eli scratched the dog’s ears. “He knows me better. He’s a good old guy, aren’t you, Bo?” Melanie sat quietly, waiting for Eli to say what was on his mind, and finally he did. “You wouldn’t even look at me during dinner.”

  “Why would I?” she asked.

  “After today—”

  “That subject is off-limits.”

  “Oh, I see. You intend to pretend it didn’t happen. Well, that’s fine, but I’d still like to say something,” Eli said.

  “I’m waiting with bated breath.”

  “Do you always fall back on sarcasm when you’re uncomfortable?”

  “Good Lord, I’m not uncomfortable! If you have something to say, say it!”

  “Okay, I will. I’ve been thinking of what you said about my pretending to be so moral with Garrett, and I need to ask if you really believe that or if you were merely lashing out because you were angry.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake! If that’s your biggest worry, you’re a lot more fortunate than most.”

  “Melanie, I value Garrett’s respect, and…and…” He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ask her not to say something to her grandfather about their lustful encounter at the lake. In truth, sitting next to her was stirring and heating his blood again. She always put on something pretty for dinner, and tonight she was stunning in a pink skirt and blouse. No matter how pretty the clothes, though, he’d rather have her without any, as she’d been at Dove Lake. Naked and in his arms. Breathing normally had suddenly become difficult, and he got to his feet. “Sorry, but I guess I didn’t have much to say after all. Good night.”

  Startled by his abrupt departure, Melanie watched from her chair until he disappeared around the side of the house. Then she got up, went to the rail and watched him walk off toward the bunkhouse.

  No one she’d ever known looked that good in jeans.

  Seven

  On Friday morning, Melanie loitered upstairs until the men were through eating, then she went downstairs and ate her own breakfast in the kitchen.

  Irma chattered like a magpie. “I can’t tell you how good it is to have a woman in the house. Men don’t talk. Oh, they say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ and that sort of stuff, but they never really talk.”

  “But they talk to each other, I bet. Good old boys’ club and all that macho malarkey. It’s probably even worse in Montana where men are really men than it is in San Diego.”

  “Aren’t men really men in San Diego?” Irma, who’d never lived anywhere but Montana, asked with a surprised look.

  “Of course they are. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But the men I know at home…” Some of them are very athletic and buff, but does even one of them measure up to Eli’s virility and rugged good looks? “They’re as masculine as the men here, Irma. They’re just different.” One guy she dated occasionally came to mind. He was a great tennis player and quite handsome, but he always tied an expensive tennis sweater around his neck after a match. Everyone else she played with used a towel, and that sweater had always seemed to her like a silly affectation. She couldn’t see Eli ever putting on airs like that just to make himself more noticeable.

  “Probably more of them are educated,” Irma said.

  “That’s possible, I suppose. Almost anything is, Irma.” Pausing a moment, Melanie added casually, “Eli’s educated, isn’t he?”

  “Everyone thinks so. Have you noticed his accent? Not that he and I have indulged in any long conversations,” Irma said with a sniff. “Your grandfather’s the only man on the ranch who seems to understand that I’m not a robot chained to the kitchen stove and good for only one thing…filling the crew’s bellies three times a day.”

  “Oh, surely the others aren’t that callous!”

  Irma sighed. “No, of course not. I just get lonesome to talk to a woman sometimes.” Her countenance brightened. “Which is the reason I’m taking this Sunday off and driving to Elk Springs to attend church and visit some old friends. Don’t worry. When I leave for a day, I make sure there’s a big pot of soup or stew on the stove to warm up and a huge tray of sandwiches in the fridge. Besides, most of the men take Sunday off, too. They stay on the ranch all week, then spend Saturday, Sunday or both with their families. A lot of these fellows are married, you know.”

/>   “No, I didn’t know,” Melanie murmured, uneasily wondering if Eli would leave for the weekend. But did she honestly care? She’d been planning on avoiding him anyway, so what difference should it make if he was there or somewhere else? Rising, she brought her dishes to the sink. “Well, let’s hope they take the time to talk to their wives, right?” she said to Irma.

  The older woman grinned and nodded her head. “Right you are.”

  Eli spotted Melanie working with Sassy at the training field, but he never went near her. She hadn’t eaten breakfast with the men, and he found out at noon that neither was she eating lunch with the crew.

  It worried him. She wasn’t avoiding the ranch hands. She was avoiding him! Probably until Garrett got back and she could tell him that his trusted foreman wasn’t trustworthy at all, but just another horny guy who’d seduced her when she wasn’t looking. It would be a lie, of course. Melanie was the hottest little number he’d ever run into and she’d teased and taunted him from the moment they’d met.

  But what man would appreciate hearing that sort of information about his granddaughter? Truth was, even if she took half the responsibility for what they’d done together—and make no mistake, they had definitely done it together—Garrett wasn’t apt to slap him on the back and call him friend. What would more than likely happen was his getting fired by a stern-faced, disappointed Garrett, and even Eli wouldn’t be able to blame his employer for letting go a man who couldn’t be trusted to keep an eye on a woman for a few days without behaving like a sex-starved animal.

  Well, that description might be a bit harsh; he really hadn’t behaved like an animal. All he had done, in fact, was respond to Melanie’s siren call, her come-hither looks and teasing challenges. And, pray tell, what man would not have responded? Lord above, when she’d undressed down to her underthings at Dove Lake, he’d nearly come unglued, and then after her swim, when she’d come out of the water and might as well have been naked for all the cover her wet bra and panties had provided, he’d almost lost it again.

  Actually, he’d shown remarkable restraint, all things considered. When she’d fallen backward on him, though, his restraint went flying. Yeah, it went flying right along with your common sense!

  And so Eli stewed all of Friday, especially when Melanie didn’t show up for the evening meal, either. He ate quickly and left the house.

  Saturday was worse. As far as Eli could tell, Melanie never even went outdoors. It appeared to him that she was hibernating until Garrett got back. With a very heavy heart, Eli wondered where he would go after Garrett fired him.

  However, Melanie wasn’t hibernating at all—she was cleaning the house. With a scarf over her hair and wearing a pair of cutoffs and a sleeveless T-shirt, she dusted and vacuumed every room, even the upstairs bedrooms. She scoured the bathrooms and the laundry and mudroom, and by late afternoon the furniture gleamed and the entire house smelled as clean as it looked.

  “So,” she said to Irma, “what do you think?”

  “The place looks absolutely wonderful. My goodness, you’re a whirlwind of energy. I couldn’t have accomplished what you did today in a week.”

  “Maybe not, but you can cook,” Melanie said with a laugh.

  “I’m sure you can cook, too.”

  “Not the way you do. Do you think Granddad will notice?”

  Irma thought for a moment. “Couldn’t say. He probably would for sure if he didn’t have so much on his mind. Your grandfather told me in confidence about the six grandsons just popping up out of nowhere. Such a shock. It’s a good thing your grandfather has a strong heart, I can tell you.”

  “Irma, you knew Dad. Did you like him?”

  “Couldn’t help liking him, honey. He enjoyed talking to me, or he seemed to. He’d come in the kitchen and peek into pots on the stove and say things like, ‘Irma, you’re the best darned cook west of the Mississippi. Maybe in the whole country. A good-looking woman, too. I bet you’ve got a dozen boyfriends in Elk Springs.’ And I’d tell him that he was a smooth-talking rogue and to save his soft soap for someone dense enough to believe it. He’d grab a piece of pie or a handful of cookies and leave the kitchen laughing. Oh, yes, I couldn’t help liking your dad, Melanie. You would have liked him, too, ‘cause most everyone did.”

  Melanie felt tears of heartfelt sorrow stinging her eyes. Turning away, she murmured, “I’m sure you’re right. Well, it’s off to the shower for me. See you later, Irma.”

  “Okay, honey. And thanks for polishing up the old place. I know it really needed a good cleaning.”

  That night, Melanie went to bed early and fell asleep almost at once. Her bedroom windows were open, and she woke up in the middle of the night, shivering. Pulling all the blankets on the bed over herself—she’d shoved them aside earlier because it had been warm when she retired—she realized that not only was it a whole lot cooler, it was also raining.

  She jumped out of bed and hurriedly shut the windows, then raced back to burrow under the covers. She was positive that she could hear each individual drop of rain that fell on the roof—and what a marvelous sound it was. Snuggling into her blankets, she listened to the almost melodic pattering of the rain until sleep took her again.

  At seven, she came wide awake and instantly remembered that Irma had told her she would be leaving around seven so she could have breakfast with friends before church. Melanie sighed heavily, suddenly feeling as gloomy as her room looked. She would be all alone in the house until Garrett and Collin got back from Whitehorn—which could be very late in the day—and it was still raining.

  If only the weather hadn’t changed, she thought. If it wasn’t raining, she could pass the lonely hours ahead working with Sassy or she could have taken a nice long ride. On the other hand, it certainly wouldn’t kill her to get rained on. And who knew? Maybe the rain would stop and the sun would come out before she finished showering. Inspired by that hope, Melanie hopped out of bed.

  But it was still raining when she was through with her morning routine. In fact, it was no longer the pleasant, lazy drizzle of before; it was pouring!

  Chewing on a piece of toast, Melanie peered through the window over the kitchen sink. It was going to be a dreary day, and she was getting darned tired of Collin and their grandfather going off without her. Why couldn’t she have gone to Whitehorn with them? Good grief, her grandfather wasn’t so old-fashioned as to believe that a woman’s place was in the home, was he? Did he think she knew nothing about business? Why, some of the things she had to do in her job—along with dealing with all kinds of people with all kinds of personalities—would make running a ranch look like child’s play.

  Well, there had to be more to running a ranch this size than what she’d seen with her own eyes, so she really shouldn’t be comparing her job with her grandfather’s. But what, really, did Collin do? Eli obviously directed the men, but who directed Eli? Did Garrett pass his wishes and orders down to Collin, who in turn passed them on to Eli?

  “Oh, who cares?” she mumbled. She was bored stiff, and if things didn’t change, if her granddad and Collin continued to traipse around Montana and leave her behind, she was going to cut her vacation short and go home.

  It would take very little effort for you to return to San Diego and never set eyes on Eli Forrester again, you know.

  Melanie bit down on her bottom lip and frowned. Was that what she wanted—never to see Eli again, to go on with her life as it had been before meeting him and try to put him out of her mind for all time?

  It was very disconcerting not to have an immediate and definitive answer to that question, and for several hours Melanie tried to bury it by reading, watching television and phoning people in California who weren’t at home to take the calls. Visualizing her friends on a tennis court or swimming in a gorgeous aquamarine, sun-speckled pool or just getting together for a barbecue further lowered Melanie’s spirits.

  She was almost ready to throw something when she heard someone come into the house through the
mudroom door. A voice! A face! Someone to talk to! She didn’t care who it was. He wasn’t getting away without a little conversation. She hurried from the living room to the kitchen.

  But when she saw who had come in, she came to an abrupt halt at the kitchen doorway. Eli took his head out of the refrigerator and saw her. His legs turned to jelly. She was dressed in a plainly styled, longish, sage-green skirt and matching top—appropriate for a rainy day in the house—and her hair had so much curl it was almost frizzy, but it was around her face the way he liked it, and she was wearing makeup, and he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

  “Want some lunch?” he asked quietly.

  “Uh…is anyone else coming in for lunch?”

  “Everyone’s gone.”

  “Every single man? How come?”

  “Because it’s Sunday and it’s raining and there was no reason for them to hang around the bunkhouse.”

  “Are you saying that you…and I…are the only people on this ranch?”

  “That appears to be the case, yes.”

  Because she was so startled, Melanie resorted to flippancy. “Should I be worried about that? I mean, would I be safer if I locked myself in my bedroom?”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Eli leaned against the refrigerator. “I guess that depends on how safe you want to be.”

  “Okay, forget that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Let me ask why you’re happy to hang around the bunkhouse on a rainy Sunday when none of the other men are.”

  “Did you hear me say I was happy about it? About anything, for that matter? If you’d care to remember, I promised Garrett to keep an eye on you. I’m sure he’ll fire my butt for seducing his granddaughter, but till then—”

  Melanie held up her hand. “Whoa there, sport. Are you going to tell him?”

  “Me tell him? Do you think I’m nuts?”

  “Well…yes.” The I-don’t-believe-you-said-that expression on his face caused a giggle to well in Melanie’s throat, but before she let it out, she added with a sassy lifting of her eyebrow and a direct stare, “In a way.”

 

‹ Prev