The Rancher's Bride

by Pamela Britton

  “I don’t think he believes Thad’s the father.”

  Ryan just about jumped out of his skin when the pounding started on Jorie’s door.

  “Why the hell wouldn’t he believe that?”

  “Because I told him months ago that Thad and I weren’t sleeping together. He thinks I broke up with Thad because of you, that you—you seduced me, I guess. He thinks I’m covering for you.”

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Ryan lowered his voice, turning from the door. “Laurel, you need to call your father right now. Tell him he has it all wrong. Tell him the truth. Tell him I’ll take a damn paternity test when your baby’s born—”

  “Ryan?”

  Jorie stood in the hallway, a sheet wrapped around her body, the similarities to the first time he’d seen her standing there striking.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Who’s that pounding on the door?”

  “Lyle Harrington.”

  She seemed to recognize the implications.

  “I’ve been trying to call him,” Laurel was saying. “He won’t pick up.”

  “Ryan?” Lyle called. “I know you’re in there, you piece of crap. No wonder you broke things off with my daughter. You couldn’t keep your piece in your pants, could you?”

  “Should I answer?” Jorie asked softly.

  “No,” he snapped. “Don’t answer. He’ll go away, eventually.”

  “I’m sorry, Ryan,” Laurel said. “Just hold tight. He’ll calm down soon. I’ll explain things to him again, explain how wonderful you’ve been, what you were willing to sacrifice so I didn’t look like such a loser.”

  He heard footsteps, and both Ryan and Jorie retreated down the hall in time to avoid being spotted by Lyle, who’d crossed to one of the front windows, cupping his hands as he peered inside.

  “This is ridiculous,” Jorie said. “Why don’t we just answer the door? We’ve got nothing to hide. You broke it off with Laurel.”

  “Call him again,” Ryan ordered Laurel before slamming the phone closed.

  “Didn’t you?”

  The footsteps sounded again. This time it was the beat of Lyle’s feet on the steps. Leaving. He was leaving.

  Thank God.

  “Yes, we broke up last night. That was Laurel on the phone. Apparently, her father doesn’t want to believe she broke up with me, and that she’s not pregnant with my child.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a damn mess.”

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Shit.

  He was back.

  Ryan took a deep breath, went to the door. It took every ounce of his willpower to clasp the door handle and turn it.

  “I knew you were in here, you dirty son of a bitch.”

  Lyle’s face was like barbed wire and razors, his blue eyes slashing into Ryan’s. He tried to push himself into the house. Ryan stayed him with a hand.

  “Lyle, I swear to you, it’s not what you think.”

  “How long have you been cheating on my Laurel?” he demanded.

  “I haven’t been cheating.” He glanced behind the man, praying to God his mom wasn’t around, too. She wasn’t.

  “Then what do you call this?” He tried to push his way past again, as if he needed to see Jorie with his own two eyes.

  “Lyle, I swear to you. I’ve never slept with your daughter. This was all an act, the engagement, Laurel’s excitement over the whole thing. She didn’t want you to know—”

  “Liar.”

  Ryan knew he wouldn’t get through to the man. Knew he fought a losing battle. There was no talking sense into him in his present frame of mind.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” Ryan said. “I just wish you would believe me.”

  “You broke my little girl’s heart,” he said, stabbing the air with his finger. “She’s been crying her eyes out all morning.”

  “Not because of me,” Ryan said. “I swear to you, not because of me.”

  “You damn no good—”

  Lyle turned away, as if unable to stomach the sight of him. His hands clenched by his sides, so tense Ryan could see the cords of his neck.

  “Sir—”

  “No,” he said, turning back and pointing at him again. “You make this right with Laurel.” He stepped sideways, attempted to peer inside the house again. “And you break it off with your mistress.”

  “Mistress—”

  “I mean it, Ryan. Make it right.” He spun away.

  “But, sir—”

  Lyle just ignored him. Ryan took a step, then stopped. No sense in following.

  Jorie touched his arm. He jumped, hadn’t even known she’d moved near.

  “He’ll calm down,” she said as he closed the door.

  She didn’t know Lyle very well if she thought that. The man’s temper was legendary.

  “Come on,” she said, smiling. Ryan forgot about Lyle for a second as he stared into her inviting eyes. She grabbed his hand, started to tug him down the hall, and even with sleep clinging to her face—she had a skin wrinkle on one side—and her hair mussed, she was the best-looking woman he’d ever seen. “Let’s see if we can beat our record from last night.”

  God help him, he grew instantly hard at the suggestion.

  “I’m actually thinking I should head over to my mother’s.” He glanced toward the front of the house. They both heard a truck start up. “I wouldn’t put it past Lyle to go there next, and I’m sure Laurel hasn’t told my mom about our broken engagement.”

  “Do you think Lyle will tell Odelia you were with me?”

  He frowned. “I’m certain of it.”

  She released his hand. “Crap.”

  “Yeah. Crap,” he repeated.

  * * *

  HE DROVE STRAIGHT over once he’d gotten dressed and showered. Sure enough, Lyle’s blue F-150 was out in front, and Ryan was half tempted to back it up and hightail it out of there.

  He couldn’t do that. Instead he forced his vehicle forward, forced himself to pull to a stop in front of his mom’s house. He took several deep breaths before opening the door.

  His mother’s voice greeted him. “There you are.”

  He knew Lyle couldn’t be far. Sure enough, he sidled up next to Ryan’s mom, the two of them standing on the balcony, his mom seeming to lean against the column next to the stairs.

  “Lyle has been telling me some interesting things,” his mother said, eyes narrowing.

  Did he tell you he wants to kill me?

  Somehow Ryan doubted it.

  “What’s this about you and Laurel breaking things off?”

  Though his feet felt like anvils, Ryan approached. He peeked a glance at Lyle, nearly wincing at the anger and disappointment he saw in the man’s eyes.

  “We broke up,” Ryan said simply.

  “See. I told you so.”

  His mom glanced at Lyle, a frown wrinkling the skin between her eyes. “Yes, but I can scarcely believe it. We just had your engagement party last night.” As if by having that party it was therefore impossible for them to split up. “What happened?”

  “He got my Laurel pregnant.”

  Apparently, Lyle hadn’t gotten that far in the story yet because he saw his mother spin. “What?”

  Ryan had reached the bottom step of his mother’s porch, climbing them two at a time. “No,” he quickly amended. “I didn’t get her pregnant, Thad did that.”

  Lyle pointed at him. “So he says, but we all know how much Laurel loves you. She’s just trying to protect you, you lying son of a gun.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Not true.”

  “If it’s not true then why’d you agree to marry her?” Lyle accused.

&nb
sp; It killed him to see his friend and mentor with such an expression of loathing on his face. “She was terrified of you,” Ryan admitted frankly. “Afraid of what you’d say. When she came to me crying, asking me if I would help her out, it sounded reasonable at the time. She’s my friend,” he said, as if that would explain it all.

  “And now that you’re sleeping with that damn vixen, that Jorie woman,” Lyle said, “she’s not your friend anymore.”

  “What?” his mom gasped. “Jorie?”

  Apparently, Lyle hadn’t gotten around to that part, either. “Relax, Mom, it’s not what you think.”

  “You spent the night with Jorie?”

  “Yes,” he sighed.

  “Oh, Ryan, don’t tell me you’ve been cheating on Laurel?” said his mom, the morning sunlight making her look older than usual. Or maybe that was just the worry creasing her brow.

  “No.” He shook his head in exasperation. “I didn’t cheat on Laurel, because Laurel and I were never together.”

  Lyle crossed his arms in front of him.

  “Not really,” he tacked on.

  “I don’t understand.” His mom worried her bottom lip, something he hadn’t seen her do since he was a teen and prone to staying out past his curfew.

  “Mom,” he said, moving forward and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Laurel asked me to bail her out, so I did.”

  Gray lashes blinked. “Define ‘bail her out.’”

  “I told her I’d marry her.”

  “After getting her pregnant.”

  Ryan turned toward Lyle, who’d spoken the words. “I did not get her pregnant, Lyle. I swear to you on my life. The baby is Thad’s. A paternity test will prove that if you can’t find it in your heart to believe me.” He took a step toward his longtime friend. “Do you honestly think I would get Laurel pregnant and then ditch her two weeks before our wedding?”

  The words seemed to penetrate where nothing had before.

  “You’ve known me my whole life, Lyle.”

  “You wouldn’t, would you?”

  He turned on his mother, who’d asked the question. “Of course not,” he said softly.

  The hand that still rested on his mother’s shoulder fell back to his side. “Laurel was in a bind,” he repeated. “I thought I was helping her out. And then I met Jorie.”

  His mom’s hand rose to her chest. “Jorie,” she repeated.

  “But it wasn’t just Jorie,” he told them both. “It was…everything. Lying to you, Mom. Pretending like we were in love. Lying to you, too, Lyle. It became too hard…for both of us, especially after last night. That’s why we decided to call it off, why Laurel told you the truth this morning.” He met Lyle’s eyes. “I know you two don’t believe me, but I promise it’s not a lie.”

  He glanced at his mom, begging her to believe him.

  “You can’t call the wedding off yet,” his mom said.

  “Why not?”

  “It’ll look bad, Ryan,” his mom said.

  “Who cares what other people think?”

  His mom and Lyle exchanged glances. He saw her shake her head a bit, as if silently communicating with Lyle that she didn’t know what to think, either.

  “I care.” His mom looked sad all of a sudden. “This might affect my business, Ryan. Did you ever think about that?”

  “You believe me, right?”

  For the first time in a long time, his mom looked utterly serious. “Whether I believe you or not, it won’t matter. This will look bad. Word will get out about Jorie, about how she broke you and Laurel up, people will talk. No bride will want her near their groom.”

  “What?” Ryan spun toward his mom. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s what people will think.” She looked him firmly in the eye. “She’ll have to be let go.”

  “No. You can’t let her go. It’s not her fault. It’s my fault. Okay. Fine. Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped into bed with her, but that was my bad decision. Don’t punish her for something I did.”

  “Last time I checked, it took two to tango,” Lyle said, hands resting on his knees. He appeared utterly defeated and disappointed.

  “Too bad, too,” his mom said. “She was doing such a great job.”

  “Mom. No. You can’t let her go. Okay, fine. We won’t announce the wedding’s off. We’ll wait a week or two. Nobody has to know about me and Jorie. We can keep it between the three of us. Don’t fire Jorie.”

  His mom looked pained. “Time will tell if you’re telling the truth,” his mom said. “But whatever the case, she should never have slept with you, Ryan. That was a poor choice on her part. And on your part. You’re my son. I’m her boss. It’s a conflict of interest.”

  And if we’re in love? He wanted to ask his mom that very question except he knew if he did, it would freak her out. Hell, it freaked him out.

  “Mom. I’m begging you, don’t fire her. She has nothing right now, just her job.”

  “She should have thought about that before she jumped into bed with you.”

  Ryan leaned back in shock. He’d never seen his mom look so stern. She turned toward Lyle. “Go home,” she told him. “Talk to Laurel. Get Thad’s number from her. Or maybe see if she has any evidence my son’s not the father of her child. Surely she has a text message or two. Everything’s got an electronic trail these days. Ask for proof. I think you’ll find my son is innocent.”

  Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. Text messages. Yes. They would prove his innocence. “She and Thad exchanged text messages right after they broke up,” he said. “They talked about the baby.”

  He prayed she still had them.

  Lyle’s gaze shifted between the two of them. “And if it is true?” he asked. “If Ryan isn’t the baby’s father?”

  His mom turned toward him, her expression one of consideration. “I don’t know. But one thing is for certain, Jorie is gone. I suggest you refrain from contacting her once she leaves. A woman capable of sleeping with the boss’s son might be capable of filing a sexual harassment lawsuit, too.”

  “Mom, come on,” Ryan said, horrified. “Jorie’s never done anything to make you think she was like that. Not a thing.”

  The disappointment in his mother’s eyes was obvious. “No, she hasn’t.” She shook her head. “But I guess I didn’t know Jorie very well, did I?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’m what?”

  Jorie’s heart beat so loudly she could barely hear Odelia’s words. They were in the office, Odelia having summoned her there only moments ago. When she’d walked in, she’d known something was wrong.

  Very, very wrong.

  Odelia was not sitting at her desk. No, she sat at the conference room table, a file in front of her. Jorie’s employment file.

  “Fired, dear,” Odelia said with a tight smile. It didn’t quite work. The smile didn’t reach Odelia’s eyes.

  Fired.

  “Odelia, please. This thing between Ryan and me. It just sort of happened—”

  “It shouldn’t have happened,” Odelia quickly interrupted. “He was engaged, as far as I know, practically up until the moment you slept with him. Whether it just happened or not, both of you should have known better. Both of you should have thought about what might happen if someone saw you together.”

  The disappointment in Odelia’s eyes tore at Jorie’s soul. She liked this woman. Had wanted to impress her. Instead she’d done something that in Odelia’s eyes was completely unforgivable.

  “Can you give me a week?”

  She hated to sound desperate, but she had no place to go. No family. Nothing.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  She waited, though what she waited for, Jorie didn’t know. For Odelia to have a sudden change of heart? God to come dow
n from heaven to rescue her? A knight in shining armor?

  Ryan.

  “I see.”

  “I think it would be best if you left the ranch immediately. And please stay away from my son.”

  Were those tears she felt burning her eyes?

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Jorie said, lifting her chin. “Your son. He’s amazing, Mrs. Clayborne. The most honorable man I’ve ever met. I’m not surprised he agreed to marry Laurel. He would do anything for the people he loved. But please don’t send me away because of all this.”

  Lord, was that her begging?

  Eyes that were usually so kind stared at her harshly. “But he’s just a man, dear, one prone to temptation, which is why you must leave. He is engaged to Laurel again.”

  What!

  “Whether they stay engaged, I don’t know, but I will not tolerate any hanky-panky between my son and one of my employees.”

  “Engaged?” she repeated dully.

  “Yes, and so you must leave. I will not have him seduced away from Laurel again.”

  She made her sound like some kind of Jezebel.

  “I didn’t steal him. He broke up with Laurel before anything happened between the two of us.”

  “Really?” Odelia said. “You mean nothing happened before that?”

  She looked away, unable to contain her blush.

  “That’s what I thought.” When Jorie looked up again, Odelia was standing. She opened the file in front of her, pulled out an envelope. “I took the liberty of printing out your final paycheck. You’ll see I paid you through the end of the week even though I expect you to be gone by tonight.”

  Tonight.

  “I trust that won’t be a problem?”

  She almost laughed. What did she have to pack?

  “No,” she said, tipping her chin. “It won’t be a problem.”

  “Excellent,” Odelia said, stepping forward and handing her the check. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out, my dear.” And for the first time Jorie saw genuine disappointment in the woman’s eyes, and maybe even a hint of sadness. “You’ve been a big help. I thank you for that.”

  Jorie’s eyes went back to burning again. “Thank you,” she said, having to look away.