Unbridled (8 page)

Connor Matthews was her type exactly. Damn. She had a rather vague but intense memory of kissing him too. Bourbon was not her friend.

He scratched Rusty behind his right ear, and Alex wanted to smack his hand away. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. You took a lot of hits in there.”

Alex had taken more than a lot of hits. She’d just found out her father was dead; she had a brother and half ownership in a dude ranch. She felt like she had two black eyes and had taken half a dozen body blows.

“That’s an understatement. I was hoping to be alone for a while.” She couldn’t make it more obvious than that. The man confused her even more than she was already.

Connor’s hand stopped in midmotion. “You disappeared an hour ago and I was, well, worried.”

That was interesting. She wondered if he was worried because she had the ability to find out exactly what he’d been doing as the man responsible for running the ranch. “I’m a big girl; no need to worry about me.”

A semitruth. She was definitely a big girl, but she was far from okay and needed someone to worry about her. It should be someone who knew her, who actually cared about her. But there was no one left who did.

That thought made her heart pinch so hard, she gasped. It was true she knew plenty of people, but Alex was completely alone in the world. Again.

“I’ve arranged for you to have the VIP cabin. It’s a quiet, two-thousand-square-foot cabin on the west side of the property. There’s a lot of privacy and a gate with a combination lock. No one will bother you.” He pushed his black hat firmly down on his head. “You can find it down the path past the blue water trough. Gate combination is zero, five, zero, one, eighty-four.”

Alex didn’t watch him walk away. She didn’t want to nor could she bring herself to. He’d given her exactly what she wanted, after all: a nice quiet, private place. She’d definitely be alone, very much so. A tear slipped down her cheek as she headed toward her car to get her bag.

Her father might not have mentioned her to Connor, may have kept her as his secret from everyone around her. But he obviously hadn’t forgotten her.

The combination to the VIP cabin gate was her birthday.

 

 

As the morning wore on, Connor made his rounds but he didn’t really pay attention to what he was seeing. Before he headed back to his office, more than one employee asked him if he was all right. The look on Alex’s face when she’d been hugging the horse gave him a glimpse at the woman beneath the anger. She looked so damn young and full of joy as Rusty had done his best to snuffle her.

He had felt sorry for Alex when he first found out who she was, but he hadn’t liked her. Not until he saw how much she loved that horse. No one who loved horses that much could be a bad person, and that was something Connor firmly believed.

What Connor had to focus on was getting his money together to buy Alex’s share of the ranch. He had offered to buy Daniel’s share, but Claire refused outright. Daniel deserved to be a part of his father’s legacy, and Connor appreciated that fact.

He’d almost adopted the role of partner when they couldn’t find Alex. In case they never found her, he wanted to have enough funds to purchase her part of the ranch. He never imagined she’d come strolling up in the middle of a September morning and set their world on end.

Connor had to remember she’d just found out her father was dead, that she was confused and hurt, that she likely had a hangover from the bourbon she drank. Yet the one thing running through his head was the feel of her body pressed against his, the softness of her lips.

And how much trouble he was in.

He picked up the phone from the desk and started dialing. Time to call Michael Bailey on his cell and figure out how to untangle the fucking mess Grant had left behind before Connor ruined everything by obsessing about Alex Finley.

 

 

Alex found the cabin easily enough, pleased by the secluded spot so she wouldn’t have to see just what her father had done to their home. Connor had given her the best cabin on the ranch; of that she was certain. As she entered the combination on the six-foot gate that surrounded it, her fingers shook, forcing her to do it twice.

Her breath caught when she finally got a good look at the building. Huge picture windows decorated the front of the sturdy log cabin. The rocking chairs on the porch were well tended and a beautiful oak color. There was even a table between them with a checkers set in a plastic box along with a deck of cards.

The cabin faced southwest, which would give the front of the cabin a clear view of the sunset. She decided that was where she would be at the end of the day. It had been years since she had really watched a sunset. Perhaps returning to Wyoming would finally force her to sit still long enough to enjoy one.

As she walked up the three front steps holding her pot containing the violet, her boots echoed on the wood, her heels impractical for every part of the ranch. Her feet actually hurt after wandering around for an hour in them. Perhaps there was a place in town where she could get a new pair.

Or perhaps she should leave before she had the chance to get comfortable with new boots. The only trouble with that idea was that she had no place to go and her money would run out in a month.

She explored everything, pleased by the simple luxuriousness of the cabin. The only problem she discovered was that cell phones apparently didn’t work in the middle of nowhere. Not that it was a bad thing, but it was another reason to dislike Wyoming. She was cut off and isolated from the familiar and thrust back into the past.

The message SIGNAL LOST was never more appropriate.

 

 

Hunger drove her from the cabin two hours later. There was only so much bottled water and lemon slices that would satisfy her growling stomach. She changed her shoes, rummaging through her things until she found her ratty white sneakers. They were at least comfortable and it didn’t matter if she got horse shit on them.

The warm breeze caressed her face as she walked down the path. She followed the signs to the mess hall and realized it was the long building beside the house. Once upon a time, they’d used it for training the horses in the winter, but obviously that wasn’t necessary with all the barns and outbuildings that had been constructed.

She walked into the building, pleasantly surprised by the delicious scents emanating from inside. There were long tables, bunk style, with cushioned benches. A few smaller tables were situated along the perimeter, likely for those who didn’t want to sit on a bench like a real cowboy.

She didn’t want to eat with anyone. Alex could only hope she didn’t run into Connor or Claire. There were a number of people occupying the long tables, so she walked around those until she found an empty two-seat table in the corner. She was about to sit down when she realized the people in the mess hall were serving themselves from the buffet.

Alex set her jacket on the chair to reserve the table and headed for the vittles. She walked the line to see what was available, then turned to go back to the beginning, and ran head-on into someone else. With a rather inglorious thump, she landed on her ass, clacking her teeth together so hard, her nose actually hurt.

When she looked up, she saw an older woman with an impressive bosom, a smirk on her face and a red flannel shirt over a denim skirt. Her thick black hair was in a braid, then wrapped in a circle at the back of her head. Alex’s mouth dropped open when she recognized the woman.

“Bernice?”

“Hell, look what the cat dragged in. If it ain’t Alex Finley.”

Bernice had been her mother’s choice, a woman who served as housekeeper, cook and conscience to everyone who lived at the ranch. She didn’t sugarcoat anything and was known for speaking her mind.

She and Alex hadn’t always seen eye to eye on things, but Bernice had a good heart and always did what she felt was right. Even if it meant tattling on a thirteen-year-old girl who snuck out to ride under the moonlight with a boy.

“Bernice, I can’t believe you’re still here.” Alex managed to get to her feet, even with a throbbing jaw and a sore ass.

“A’ course I’m still here. Where else would I be?” Bernice pushed at Alex’s shoulder. “Look at you, all grown up. You’re the spitting image of your mama.”

Alex nodded, knowing each and every day she looked in the mirror that she favored Katie Finley in every way except her eyes and her chin. Those she’d inherited from her father, like it or not.

“What are you doing here after all this time?” Bernice eyed her with excruciating honesty. “And why do you look like shit?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather eat before we talk. I haven’t had anything today and I’m hungry enough to eat my own cooking, which is saying something.” It would also give her time to gather her thoughts before Bernice yanked every smidgen of information out of her.

“Hell’s bells, then you’d best eat then before you keel over. Plates are over yonder; trays are next to them. Help yourself and find a seat. I’ll be there in a jiffy.” Bernice walked toward the kitchen, leaving Alex with her thoughts.

She filled her plate with turkey and mashed potatoes, a biscuit and green beans with almonds. It looked and smelled so good, her mouth actually watered. She didn’t remember the last time she’d had real food, not nouveau cuisine or fast food or whatever David’s chef had made with mushrooms. Alex hated mushrooms and ended up eating a lot more junk than she should have simply because she couldn’t eat anything other than rice at home.

The truth was, she could have cooked for herself, but Alex had never learned how. Bernice hadn’t had the patience to teach her and Alex’s mother didn’t like to cook. It didn’t matter now, though, because she was back at home, eating Bernice’s good cooking. Not everything would be as satisfying as this delicious food.

She sat down and realized she’d forgotten to get a drink. Before she could get up, a glass of iced tea was set in front of her, the lemon nicely positioned on the rim. She looked up into Bernice’s smiling face.

“Thanks.” When Alex took a sip, she groaned aloud at the cold concoction in her mouth. “God, I forgot what good tea tasted like.”

Bernice sat down, her large callused hands in front of her on the table. “Dig in.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. She took a huge bite of turkey, and the flavor exploded on her tongue. The gravy was creamy and salty, the turkey juicy and just right. She took a second bite, this one with a smattering of mashed potatoes included. It was almost a sexual experience.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the food, but I’m curious as to where you’ve been the last ten years.” Bernice sipped at the large mug of coffee in front of her.

“L.A.,” Alex managed to say around the mashed potatoes.

Bernice’s dark eyebrows went up. “That so? Long way from home, and I don’t mean miles.”

Alex shrugged, then took a gulp of iced tea. “I needed that distance.”

“I can see that. And what brings you back now, if you don’t mind my asking?” Bernice did the asking whether or not anyone minded.

Alex finished the bite in her mouth before she answered. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.” The raw and pitiful truth, to be sure.

Bernice nodded. “I’m glad you came here, then. I know things were a bit rough when your mama died. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you before you hightailed it outta here.” She sipped at her coffee, allowing Alex a bit more time to stuff her face.

And stuff her face she did. The turkey disappeared from the plate, along with the potatoes. As she sopped up the gravy with a biscuit, Alex realized she’d eaten far too much. She was overfull and damn, but it felt good.

Bernice’s gaze found hers again. “Now, tell me why you ran and never looked back. Why you thought it a good plan to disappear.”

“I had to leave, and you know why. He brought another woman to her funeral, Bernice.” Alex tried to block out the memory again, unsuccessfully.

“Your daddy, well, he made mistakes, but marrying Claire wasn’t one of them.” Bernice held up her hand, obviously seeing something in Alex’s gaze. “I ain’t saying he went about it the right way. Hell, he fucked it up right good, but Claire is a good woman and her boy isn’t such a bad kid either.”

Alex set the biscuit down slowly. The turkey now sat in her stomach like a lead weight, her pleasure at the delicious food forgotten. Bernice had no right to defend her father’s actions, or that woman who’d taken her mother’s place.

“I’m not ready to forgive him, or accept the strangers in my house. Jesus Christ, Bernice, it’s a goddamn
dude
ranch! After a hundred and fifty years as my family’s house, a Finley heritage, it’s no longer a home.” Alex glanced around to make sure no one was around. She didn’t want to offend people, but she’d been offended by what her father had done. “A bunch of damn city folks playing cowboy. What the hell?”

Bernice shrugged. “The ranch wasn’t making any money on cattle, girl. The bigger ranches were putting Finley’s under. Your daddy had the idea to keep the ranch going. It weren’t easy, but it worked. Each year we made more and built more cabins.”

Alex absorbed that information, knowing Bernice was probably right about losing money, but hell, most ranches did. It was a constant struggle to survive. However, turning a home into a dude ranch was still unacceptable. Her father had taken something special, something that had been in his family for a hundred and fifty years, and made it into something awful.

“I think it’s going to take me a while to understand it, much less accept it.” Alex was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t shake. “I don’t like that man who runs the place either. He’s probably robbing it blind.”

“That Connor is a good man, even if he started off as a pain in the ass like you.” Bernice wagged her finger at Alex. “It took me a while but I like the boy, so you’d best be nice to him.”