Authors: Barbara White Daille
“That was a long time away.”
“Yes.”
“After all those years, what made them bring you home again?”
“They didn’t. By that time, I wanted to go back. I loved my teachers and all my friends, but when I hit my teens, things changed, and I got the urge to experience something else.”
For the first time, she’d wanted a life outside that school.
“Sounds like you hit a rebellious streak.”
“Maybe. Though my teachers always said I knew my own mind too well. Like Nate.” She laughed. “Whatever you would call it, I don’t know.” Her smile slid away. Because she
did
know.
Another truth. This time one she had never shared with anyone.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “I started to feel restless and boxed in there. Closed off from the rest of the world.”
He swung his leg over the bench, resting his back against the edge of the table. He was facing her directly now. She couldn’t avoid seeing his lips. Or his eyes.
“A lot of the other kids probably felt the way you did.”
“It’s possible. I’m not sure. They all stayed on until graduation.” She shrugged and ran her fingers over the water bottle. “But I felt as though I didn’t belong there anymore. I could read lips with more accuracy than anyone at school, including some of my teachers, and that made me…different.”
“You
are
different.”
Straightening her shoulders, she waited for what always came next. Again his response surprised her.
“That stands to reason, doesn’t it?” He reached up and smoothed a strand of her hair. “No two people are exactly alike. No two people have your blue eyes.” Lightly, he touched her temple.
Her scalp prickled.
“No two people have this nose.” He brushed the tip of it with his finger.
She swallowed a nervous laugh.
“And definitely, no two people have these lips.” He outlined her bottom lip with his thumb.
No laughter now. She couldn’t even force a smile.
He cupped her chin with his hand.
A shiver ran through her. Pleasure? Caution? She couldn’t tell.
Along with all their run-ins and arguments and their up-and-down working relationship, hadn’t she been fighting her own attraction to him? When she accepted his offer to ride here, hadn’t she hoped something like this would happen?
His warm fingers supported her chin, holding her mouth ready for his. When she closed her eyes, he brushed his free hand across her cheek, his thumb rough yet gentle.
Their lips met, and the kiss was warm and sweet and filled with desire. His and hers.
When she opened her eyes again, he stayed close. So close she could see every one of his long dark lashes. So close she could see the stormy-green she had known all along would bring her nothing but trouble.
Shifting on the bench, she sighed and shook her head. “We can’t do this.”
She rose and moved away, took another mouthful of water, hoped to wash away the delicious taste of him. Then she paced the length of the clearing beside the bench, knowing she didn’t have to look his way for him to get her message. “That was nice, Ryan. Very nice. I won’t deny it. But you know we can’t do this. After all, we can’t even get along with each other for more than two days in a row.”
She was babbling again, saying too much. Which of them was she attempting to convince?
Yes, they fought. And yes, he was her boss—sometimes
too much
her boss with his infuriating way of taking over. She’d be a fool to let this go anywhere.
Think about the future, about making the school a success. For Caleb. For the kids.
For me.
Giving in to this attraction to Ryan could jeopardize all that.
She stopped pacing and met his gaze. “We work together, Ryan. That—” She gestured toward him. “Nice as it was, that can’t happen again. We’ve got too much at stake.”
He nodded, his expression bleak.
Or did she only imagine that because she hoped he felt as disappointed as she did?
Turning away, she started down the trail on her own.
* * *
W
HEN
HE
GOT
up to leave the bunkhouse after lunch, Tony tagged along. It had become a regular habit of the old man’s.
“Talked to Caleb lately?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, yesterday.” He shut the door behind them and struggled to think. With…other things on his mind, he’d forgotten to tell the men at lunch. And breakfast. “He’s coming back for a while at the end of the month.”
“Sounds good.”
“We’re sticking to the short crew for the summer. He’s holding off on buying stock, wants to focus on getting the school up and running.” More reason to keep an eye on the construction. And they wouldn’t lack for chores to keep them busy, including that corral.
Halfway to the barn, Tony eyed him. “You and Lianne go out riding together this morning?”
The man asked his question as casually as if, like these chats on the porch, his going riding with Lianne had become just another daily occurrence. The truth was that they hadn’t been riding again since the day of the incident. And that day, although he and Lianne had returned to the ranch at the same time, they hadn’t talked on the way back from the ridge. He’d had a feeling she would’ve liked to have left him in the dust again, too.
He swallowed a sigh. He didn’t want to think about Lianne. Bad enough he’d had to face her every day since then.
Since his latest wrong move with one of Caleb’s employees.
“No,” he said flatly. “She probably ran into town. Or out to her sister’s.”
“Maybe. She hasn’t been around. Since you both came riding in together that day, I figured you might’ve gone out again.”
Not wanting to cut the old man off but not wanting to hear him running on about Lianne, either, he said, “I was working out by the corral all morning.”
Just before noon he’d come in and taken a shower at the house. He hadn’t seen her at all. Hadn’t heard her, either.
He took a swig from the water bottle he’d carried from the bunkhouse, needing to do something with his hands. It seemed as if every time he
did
think of her, he wanted to touch her.
What a damned fool.
They’d reached the barn, and Tony stood eyeing him.
“The reason I asked about you and Lianne…”
That was Tony. Never would quit till he’d had his say. “Yeah?”
“You missed a visitor while you were gone.”
“Who would that be?”
“Feisty gray-haired woman. Walked right into the barn like she owned it. Said she was Caleb’s aunt.”
“Sounds like her. Ellamae?”
“That would be the one.”
He hadn’t seen her since the night at the Whistlestop Inn. Counting back, he frowned. A few weeks ago now, that was. He’d have expected her out here before now. Much before.
“She and I had quite a little talk,” Tony said.
Between the two of them, they’d probably covered any news to be had in Flagman’s Folly. Including his? But Tony wasn’t acting any different than usual. “I don’t know why she would’ve come to the barn. She must’ve been looking for Lianne.”
“She made a point of saying she wanted to talk to you. Said she’d stop by again soon. Speaking of feisty women,” Tony went on, “Lianne’s got some pluck, too. Y’know, after you went off to the bunkhouse that day, I stayed working in here. A while later she marched in—just like that Ellamae—and said she wanted me to show her how to groom a horse.”
“Did she?”
“Yep. And she wouldn’t let me do a thing for her.”
“Yeah. That sounds like her, too.” He shook his head. “How did you…explain things?”
“Didn’t have to. Like I said, she wanted me to show her. I took one horse, she took another. She just watched me and followed along.”
I
can
handle this.
The near-empty water bottle crackled as he squeezed it in his fist.
He wouldn’t care to swear in Judge Baylor’s courtroom whether the automatic reaction came from irritation or anger. Most likely a bit of both, along with a good measure of disgust.
With himself.
What the hell kind of man was he? How could he lust after another woman when he hadn’t yet come to terms with losing his wife and child?
He entered the ranch house and trudged up the stairs.
Lianne had the right idea. He had kissed her, and she had thought of her job.
That was where his head should have been, too, instead of getting wrapped up in her story. Instead of getting caught by the vulnerability in her eyes.
Halfway up the stairs, he heard the sound of water running. A few steps down the hall, he saw the bathroom door standing ajar, revealing only the steam-misted mirror and a pile of clothing perched haphazardly on the edge of the sink.
As he went to pass the door on the way to his room, Lianne moved into view, her back to him. He stopped dead in his tracks. If she could have heard his footsteps, she would already have pushed the door closed. That fact made him think twice about standing there looking.
But like a hog-tied bull, he couldn’t have broken free if he’d tried.
Plump water drops trickled along her shoulders and arms. Wet hair streamed down her bare back, dampening the towel she’d wrapped low on her hips. This was worse than the morning he’d stood out in the open watching her stretch in the sun.
Hell, no. It was much better.
Water dribbled down the steam-fogged mirror, leaving tiny tracks that offered tantalizing views. His mouth went so dry he’d have willingly licked some of that moisture away if only he could have gotten into the room.
Still unaware of him, she poured lotion into her hand, then rubbed her palms together and leaned down to run both hands over her calves, leaving twin creamy white streaks behind.
He shoved his hands into his back pockets.
Without any help from him at all, the fog on the mirror began to clear.
As she bent from the waist, massaging the lotion into her skin, the edge of the bathroom counter blocked his view of all but the curved tops of her breasts and the start of the deep V plunging between them.
He couldn’t take much more of this torture. He couldn’t stay there, either, without feeling like the world’s biggest heel.
The last thought gave him the strength to back away.
Somehow he found the wits to get past the door and down the hall and into his room.
Chapter Nine
Ryan stood just outside the office, bracing himself.
When Lianne finally spotted him standing in the doorway, she looked him up and down, from the fresh Western shirt and jeans he’d put on after his shower to the spit-polished pair of boots that had never seen a stirrup or spur.
“What are you doing here?”
He made a show of looking at his watch. “I’m early for the interview.”
“I thought we’d decided I could handle these myself.”
“You decided. I’m here.”
“Ryan—”
The lamp near the coffeemaker began to flash rapidly at the same time the doorbell rang. He frowned. A short in the wiring?
“It’s connected to the bell,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. “You must not be the only one early for the interview.” She brushed past him, looking good in a button-down white silk shirt, a black skirt and low heels that still managed to make her long legs look longer.
When he realized he’d stood staring till she got all the way to the front door, he hustled into the room.
Taking the power position in the desk chair would be a nice touch. But on second thought, he decided to stand. He leaned against the credenza behind the desk and crossed his arms.
Lianne came into the room with a teenaged boy who looked as spit-shined as Ryan’s boots and not yet half as old.
“Ryan, this is Billy Maxwell.”
Billy.
Ryan froze, his hand half-outstretched.
A familiar name—but not one from the stack of resumes she’d given him. If it had been, he’d never have forgotten.
He shook hands with the kid and returned to his seat again.
Lianne looked at him. “Wouldn’t you prefer a chair?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She sat behind the desk and the kid took one of the chairs at the front.
Jaw clamped tight, he watched and listened as they chatted about folks in town and the kid’s graduation, coming up later in the month.
Good way to break in the ice, get the applicant comfortable. She had the right idea. But when the chat went on and the interview questions never began, he frowned.
When they both finally stopped for breath, he said, “Did you bring a resume with you?”
Billy looked up. “No, I didn’t.”
Lianne glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ryan…” She gestured to the vacant chair beside Billy’s.
He waved the offer away and looked at the kid. “Where are you working now?”
“At Harley’s General. On Signal Street.”
“What’s your position?”
Lianne rose and moved to stand beside the filing cabinet.
“It’s a grocery store,” Billy said. “I work the register there after school and on weekends.”
He nodded. “Have you got any other experience? Have you worked with troubled teens before?”
Billy shook his head.
Lianne opened a drawer in the cabinet and pulled out a folder. She plucked a sheet of paper from it and handed it to the kid. “Billy, I appreciate your taking the time to stop by this afternoon. We’re asking applicants to complete this form. You’re working tomorrow, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Great. If you’ll take this with you and fill it out, I’ll pick it up from you at Harley’s.”
The kid nodded and shook hands with Ryan. Lianne escorted him from the room.
Ryan settled back on the credenza.
She returned within two minutes, stalking in on those heels. “Ryan.” She took a deep breath. “What is this?” She gestured at him, indicating his seat on the credenza and his crossed arms.
“It’s comfortable.”
“It’s intimidating, especially for someone who doesn’t have much experience with interviews.”
“You told me you knew what you were doing.”
“Very funny.” But she didn’t smile. “I sincerely hope the next interviews go better than this one did,” she said. “And that you’ll reconsider what it means to work together.”