The Countess and the Cowboy

by Linda Wisdom

  "Maybe I should do more hard labor," she mused. "Maybe I should have a hormone test. That's it, too many hormones." With a nod of self-agreement, she closed her eyes and soon fell asleep. Little did she know that Tyler was standing at the bunkhouse window, watching her bedroom light wink out and cursing her for obviously not having the problem he was.

  "UH, BOSS?" One of the men, wearing a strange look on his face, approached Tyler.

  Tyler looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

  "You know how you had me go in the house to get those vaccination papers from the office?" he murmured, looking around as if afraid of being overheard.

  Tyler, puzzled by the man's secretive manner, nodded. "Just spit it out, Kendall."

  He leaned forward. "I don't want to say anything.

  Maybe you should see it for yourself. She's in the living room." He loped off.

  "Where're those vaccination papers?" Tyler shouted after him. "The vet's coming out right after breakfast.”

  "Boss, after you see what I did, you'll understand why I clean forgot to get them," he called over his shoulder.

  Tyler headed for the house without a second thought. The moment he opened the front door, a familiar man's voice reached his ears. His curiosity pushed him farther inside until he stood in the living room doorway. He stared at the picture on the television screen without saying a word. Shaking his head, he went back to the kitchen.

  "How long has this been going on?" he asked Myrna without preamble.

  She cocked her head in the direction of the front of the house where faint sounds of shouting and gunshots could be heard. "Her research, you mean?"

  "Her what?"

  "Research." Myrna filled the large coffee urn she kept going all day. "She's learning about ranching,"

  "She's in there watching Red River for research?" Tyler's voice rose. "On what?"

  Myrna held up a hand to shush him. "Don't you' say one word to that girl," she warned, advancing on him with fire in her eyes. "She's doing it the only way she knows how."

  "All she's going to learn from John Wayne is that driving cattle is hell!" He silently implored a higher being for help. None seemed forthcoming. "What's she going to watch next? The Alamo?"

  "Her brother sent her just about every western film on tape along with an extensive selection of books on the west," she explained. "I kept her company last night and for the first time in years, had a chance to enjoy an oldie with Alan Ladd,"

  Tyler shook his head.

  "What is she supposed to do?" Myrna demanded.

  "You've pretty much left her to her own devices for the past week."

  He had left her alone since that night he'd kissed her and he'd learned the truth about her. He argued with himself that he had work to do and he didn't consider baby-sitting a new owner part of his duties. Although, deep down, he knew he should be showing her how to get involved.

  "All right." He sighed. Surrender was much safer for one's stomach where Myrna was concerned. "I'll take care of it."

  The cook faced him. "You should have done it in the beginning."

  He threw up his hands. "All right! I'll take care of it first thing in the morning. Is that acceptable?" He didn't bother to blunt his sarcasm.

  "I’ll let you know."

  "WE'RE GOING ON A TOUR of your land today," Tyler announced, spearing Letitia with a look that dared her to challenge him. Out of the comer of his eye, he could see Myrna smiling her approval of his announcement. At least his breakfast wouldn't be burned beyond recognition.

  Letitia chose to ignore that telling look. "Ben's overhauling the truck's carburetor today."

  "We'll be riding. The truck can't travel over some of the terrain we're heading for anyway."

  "Riding?" she repeated numbly, feeling cold inside. "Horses?"

  "That's the accepted mode of transportation."

  Tyler looked at J.T. "You can choose an appropriate mount for her," he told the older man.

  "No problem."

  "Riding," Letitia muttered under her breath. She looked down at her breakfast. She suddenly had no appetite.

  Tyler finished his own breakfast with swift dispatch and got up. "Don't worry, countess," he whispered in her ear. "I'll make sure your royal little rear doesn't get too bruised. Hate to see valuable merchandise ruined."

  "A horse is nothing more than a large dog," Letitia told herself later when she walked out to the barn. "It just neighs instead of barks."

  "What's barking?" J.T. asked, hearing the last part of her self-reassurance.

  "My stomach." She eyed the roan with trepidation. "Don't you have something smaller?"

  "Hell, Letty, this ole boy will take you all over the land and not even breathe hard." He was clearly pleased with his choice.

  Letitia rolled up the sleeves of her aqua-colored soft cotton shirt. Black jeans, boots and a black flat brimmed hat completed her outfit. She had pulled her hair back into a French braid in deference to the warm day.

  "I don't see how he has the time to do this," she grumbled, still eyeing the waiting horse. "He's supposed to be running this ranch."

  "Correction, boss lady, I'm supposed to be following your orders." Tyler walked up, leading his bay stallion. "You've been here long enough to have seen your land several times over. Playtime's through, countess. Time to work." He swung into the saddle with an ease Letitia admired, and hated him for because she knew she couldn't even come close to that.

  "All right, missy, up you go." J.T. offered his cupped hands for her to step into.

  With J.T.'s boost, Letitia found herself seated in the broad saddle and clutching the horn. "This is a definite improvement over the English saddle," she acknowledged, taking up the reins.

  "Just remember we won't be riding to the hounds today." Tyler led the way with Letitia unwillingly following.

  "I'm very glad to hear that." Her teeth clacked together before she could adjust her body to her mount's rocking rhythm. "I always felt the fox got a rough deal."

  Tyler didn't deliberately set a leisurely pace, but he didn't set a difficult one, either.

  "Is there a reason why we're suddenly playing Boy Scouts on their annual jaunt?" she called after him, frantically trying to remember her riding instructor's words those many years ago. In the end, she only prayed she wouldn't disgrace herself and fall off.

  "What is this horse's name?" she yelled, figuring Tyler wasn't going to hear her any other way. If he even bothered listening to her.

  She wouldn't have felt very safe if she'd seen his wicked grin. "Son of Satan."

  "He's lying," Letitia murmured, beginning to feel more comfortable in the unfamiliar saddle. "I just know he's lying. I bet his name is Barney."

  As she relaxed, she felt easier about looking around to enjoy the scenery.

  “At one time, more than two hundred-thousand head roamed these ranges," Tyler explained, pointing out the pasture land that seemed to go on forever. "Harvey's ancestors settled here in the eighteen-forties when there wasn't much more than the Crow roaming the land. He even had some Crow blood in him. As far as the eye could see there was cattle. Prime beef driven down to the railroad and shipped back east. They survived wars, the Depression and more wars. What they couldn't survive was the steadily dropping price of beef, then feed prices went up and running a large herd wasn't viable. Some have switched to running buffalo since the meat has gotten so popular. Surrounding ranches have looked into other ways of using the land to make a profit. You have to do something or you end up running so far in the red, it's difficult to climb out.

  Letitia looked in the same direction and again noticed there weren't as many cattle as she thought there would be. She shifted her aching butt in the saddle. "What about now? Haven't things improved?"

  Tyler reined in his mount. "It still isn't viable," he said baldly. "And with winters the way they are, you can't just run anything here. They have to be sturdy enough to live through deep snows and blizzards."

  "So what you're sayi
ng is I have all this land, a fraction of the herd that used to be here and no money." Letitia said. She looked over the gently rolling green hills that her mind's eye could easily picture covered with cattle. "Is that pretty much it?"

  "That's it exactly."

  She pulled her hat down farther over her eyes to shade them from the morning sun. • 'Do I have any options at all?"

  "You can always sell to someone who knows what they're doing. Get out before things get any worse and have some money to boot."

  She shot him an I-know-what-you're-trying-to-doand-you-won't-succeed look. "Besides that. The word is options, not option." She stressed the s sound.

  Tyler leaned forward, crossing his arms on the saddle horn. "Are you serious?"

  She looked him straight in the eye. "Very."

  "You could try running something other than cattle."

  "Sheep?" She grimaced when she saw Tyler's expression. "It is done, you know," she said in defense.

  "Although, I guess a hard-core cattleman couldn't handle it, am I right? Well, there has to be something.”

  Tyler watched Letitia. He'd decided a long time ago that watching her was turning into a dangerous addiction. Today, her face was flushed from the ride and her eyes glowing. He wondered where she got all her enthusiasm to enjoy the life all around her. And if she was willing to share it with him. What really bothered him was that she was settling in too easily. The part of him that hungered for a piece of his own land seemed to be shrinking and he didn't like that feeling one bit. He needed her gone from his life before he took to a crazy notion about sharing this ranch.

  Chapter Nine

  It was time to take a break. Tyler took off his hat and wiped his arm across his forehead as he looked toward a stand of trees a short distance away.

  "This looks like a good place to stop for a while and take a breather." When he reached them, he pulled on the reins and dismounted with a fluid ease Letitia alternately admired and hated. He dropped the reins, ground-tying his mount. "I can imagine you're ready for one by now."

  She looked around, vainly trying to ignore the numbness that had rapidly spread up her legs and was now centered in her rear end. They'd been riding for the past two hours and after the first fifteen minutes she felt her nerve endings screaming for release from this agony. Tyler noticed her wince when she shifted in her seat.

  "Sorry, it's nothing unusual for us to ride most of the day and not think anything of it." She studied him and decided he didn't look as sincerely apologetic as she'd like. Actually, she'd prefer it if he looked like he had her pain. "If you walk around a little, you'll get rid of any stiffness you might feel."

  Letitia was convinced if she fell out of the saddle and tried to stand up, her legs would not support her. But she wasn't about to tell that to Tyler. As it was, she decided the only thing that had kept her upright in the saddle all morning was the enticing sight of Tyler as he rode in front of her pointing out various landmarks. There was nothing like a man in jeans riding a horse to fuel more than a few women's fantasies. She shifted her weight again and devoutly wished she hadn't. Her body had a way of making her miserable for doing such things. Pinpricks of sensation declared numb nerves were coming back from the dead. The last time she felt so miserable was the last time she'd ridden a horse.

  "You know, everything looks so lovely from up here that I think I'll just stay in the saddle," she said brightly, shifting from side to side in hope of discovering if there was any feeling in her body at all other than agony.

  His lips twitched with humor. He appeared by her leg. "Feeling a bit sore, countess?"

  "You can't feel sore if you can't feel anything at all." She chose to adopt her haughty lady-of-themanor voice. While it didn't intimidate Tyler in the least, it did make her feel better. Tyler held up a hand. "Come on, I'll help you down."

  "I can get down by myself." But she didn't argue when he grasped her waist as she tried to swing out of the saddle as easily as he did and completely failed. She held on to the saddle with an iron grip.

  "Pull up some dirt," he invited, walking toward the stand of trees nearby.

  “If I let go, I know I will fall very ungracefully to the ground."

  Tyler chuckled at her announcement. "Sweetheart, you are something." He carefully pried her fingers from the horn and kept a firm hold on her as he walked her over to the trees. With his hands holding onto her wrists, she was able to drop down to the grass.

  "Ooh," Letitia moaned as she felt the pins and needles of pain invade her lower body. "I told you I was better staying in the saddle."

  "Nah, you just need more time." He sat down beside her and pulled one foot into his lap. He pulled her boot off and began massaging her toes with solid smooth strokes.

  Her eyes widened as the sensation of life raced back up her leg. "That feels so good," she rasped. "Don't stop."

  Tyler's head snapped upward at her words and tone of voice. "Think about saying that in another time and place," he said huskily.

  Gritting her teeth against the prickling pain, Letitia leaned forward and swept the stray strands of hair from his forehead. "You know, for a country boy, you've been working awfully fast," she murmured.

  His gray eyes bored into hers. "That bother you?"

  "Have you heard me complaining?" Her smile seemed a bit wobbly. "Although, you may as well know now, I'm not the sexual expert you think I am. I've always been very choosy about men."

  "You didn't do a very good job with Giancarlo," he pointed out.

  Letitia lifted her face, allowing the morning breeze to wash over her skin. While she usually enjoyed being light and outrageous with people, she didn't feel like showing that side just now.

  "The party set isn't what it used to be," she said softly as she leaned back, bracing herself on her hands. "I saw too many people fall for the wrong person and end up either jaded for life or hopelessly heartbroken. True love doesn't exist among many of them."

  He studied her profile, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. "Maybe they didn't hide their true selves as well as some of the others did." There was no mistaking his meaning.

  She snapped forward. "Get this straight," she gritted. "To many, my mother seemed flighty and irresponsible, but she was very strict with her children and was determined we wouldn't grow up to be shallow and immoral. I've adhered to those values, whether you think I have or not."

  "Oh sure." He didn't sound sincere. She wanted to hit him. Again.

  "It all comes down to Giancarlo's promise that he'd sell you the ranch and I know you're hoping I will do the same, but you have to understand how important it is that I succeed with this. I need to prove I can do something all on my own." Her face was grim with determination.

  "You don't have the funds to do what's needed," he said, tight-lipped.

  "And you do?" She was determined to challenge him right back.

  "No, I don't," he admitted. "But I do have the knowledge. And not from watching western movies and reading books, either. Experience is what counts."

  Letitia nodded, understanding where this was coming from. "You may find this hard to believe, but I did learn a few things from watching those movies." She shifted her position, brushing away a buzzing fly.

  He looked skeptical. "Yeah, sure."

  She was determined not to allow him to goad her.

  "Let me explain something. Stephano's family firmly believed the women took care of the home and had babies. They were of the old world beliefs that women did not belong in the workplace."

  "And you hated it," he stated.

  "At first, I was so flattered that he wanted to take care of me. He enjoyed telling people that I was his cherished possession," she explained with a small laugh. "I thought it was a joke until the day I realized he was right. I was a possession just like his stable of polo ponies and collection of Chinese erotic art." She shook her head.

  "Erotic art?" Tyler drawled. "Interesting."

  "That's not the point," she clipped, a
lready seeing where his train of thought was heading. "Don't even ask about it. The point I'm making is that I was given a specific spot and I wasn't to stray from it."

  He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, so how did you stray from your exclusive life?"

  Letitia wondered why she was even bothering. "I wanted to do more than give charity balls and dinners. I reminded Stephano that members of royalty worked actively in more than decorating the house, but that didn't matter to him. All I needed to do was give him his heir and happily spend the money he was only too happy to lavish on me," She looked pensive.

  "You know, a lot of women would kill to have what I had with Stephano, but to me, it wasn't enough. In the long run, I really didn't have a husband, just someone who breezed in every once in a while with a kiss on the forehead and a piece of jewelry to make things better."

  "Yeah, it must have been real rough."

  Letitia narrowed her eyes. "I should smack you silly for that crack," she gritted. "You're not even listening, are you?

  "Sure, I've heard every word you said." His bland indifference sent her temper soaring even more. "Your husband treated you like a cherished little pet and made sure every luxury was at your fingertips. No wonder you got a divorce."

  Letitia shook her head. She hated Tyler for his smug manner while she sat here revealing a hurtful part of her life. She controlled her temper by removing her hat and placing it in her lap, absently brushing the dust off the crown.

  "I was raised to honor the vows I'd taken," she spoke in a low intense voice. "But Stephano obviously hadn't been. I soon discovered that along with his passion for polo was his passion for having affairs with his friends' wives. I'd been kept blissfully ignorant of the fact for quite some time."