Cowboy's Bride Read online

  "I've managed." He bit out the reply, not wanting to admit to her or anyone the tough times he'd had. He'd made it through, and Becky was doing all right, even if he didn't have much idea what to do with a girl approaching her teens. Before long he'd have to get someone to help him. He knew nothing about dresses and makeup and parties. Becky was almost a teenager—she'd be wanting all those things soon.

  Kalli longed to ask him just how he managed, but his last comment was cold enough to keep the question silent. She wondered if there was any way she could help him and his daughter, in exchange for his teaching her about the business of ranching. It was an idea. If she allowed him to stay.

  "Yonder’s part of your herd." He nodded to the field that was just coming into view. Spread out before them stood a couple of hundred head of reddish cattle with white faces grazing knee deep in the tall spring grass.

  "What kind of cattle?" Kalli asked, drawing her horse to a stop and gazing at the herd, a feeling of wonder and delight welling up inside her. Her cattle! She was truly on her ranch. Briefly she thought of her uncle. They had not been close except for the summers she'd spent at the ranch. But she still missed him. Giving him silent thanks for leaving her his place, she attended Trace.

  "Herefords. Last fall the herd was over a thousand. You need to take a tally soon to count the new calves. Past time for spring branding, tagging and castrating."

  "So many?" She bit her lip and studied the cattle. She didn't have a clue what to do with them. What did she know about branding and calving and selling cattle for profit? Nothing. Spring roundups had already been finished each time she came to visit. The magnitude of the undertaking before her began to unfold. She was a nurse, not a rancher. Could she learn enough to run this place? Or would she forever be dependent on men who had been raised in ranching to do the actual work, make the final decisions?

  Trace slouched in his saddle and studied the woman beside him. He hoped maybe she was starting to get a feel for how little she knew. She looked worried as she stared at the cattle. He shrugged. Good, maybe she'd realize it was too much for her and leave.

  "Small herd. Needs to be built up. Got any plans for that?"

  She flashed him an angry look.

  "Of course I don't have any plans. I don't know what I have. I don't know what's expected to run a ranch. Don't you think I need to learn all that before making plans for the future?''

  Hot-tempered thing, he thought, almost smiling at her reaction. "Yes, ma'am, I reckon you do. But decisions have to be made now. You can't just take off a few months to learn things. Your spring calves are ready to be tagged, branded and castrated. You need to inoculate the herd, check for river ticks, get an accurate count so you can plan which ones to cull for sale now and how many to keep. Plan your breeding, what bulls are you going to use with which heifers. The rotation of the range for maximum feed for your herd has to be figured and the cattle moved appropriately. The watering places have to be checked and cleaned if needed. The fencing monitored. We had a lot of snow last winter, some of the fencing's bound to be down. If you don't get it fixed before we rotate cattle into certain sections, you could lose cattle, or they could damage another's property and cost you to repair. You need to bring your records up to date, make sure the IRS is satisfied with the estimated taxes."

  He stopped. Her face was in profile, but he could catch the glimmer of tears shimmering in her eye. She stared over the herd, listening to him enumerate all the things that needed to be done that he knew she hadn't a clue how to handle. Maybe she'd see sense now.

  But a small corner of him felt like he had just kicked a kitten.

  Kalli listened to him go on and on about various aspects of a ranch. She didn't understand half of what he was saying. All she could do was listen as the endless list continued. How could she ever hope to manage a ranch? She was a nurse. She was from Boston, not some wild western town where she might have picked up some aspects of ranching by osmosis. She hadn't a clue, and he knew it. Damn him, he knew it and still continued relentlessly with his list of things to be done.

  It hurt. She had been amazed, then overjoyed when she first learned of her inheritance. She had never expected Uncle Philip to leave her anything. Kalli had been quite fond of him, but except for letters and a few phone calls, she hadn't seen him since high school. When she learned she had inherited the ranch in Wyoming, she felt as if she'd won the lottery.

  Now she wasn't so sure.

  She cleared her throat, refusing to look at Trace, refusing to let him see how overwhelmed she felt. "Is this the whole herd?" she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow in surprise. He'd expected her to want to go back to the house, think about all he told her and start loading her truck. A glimmer of respect for her began.

  "No. Some are over near the Flying Cloud. Come on." He started his horse toward the west, kicked him into a lope, and he ate up the distance. The sooner he was finished here the sooner he could get back to his own place.

  Kalli was glad for the riding she'd been doing in Boston since she found out about inheriting the Triple T. Otherwise she would never have been able to keep up.

  Following Trace, the wind blew the tears from her eyes. She eagerly studied the passing land, searching for a way to remember where she was and how to get home. That much she'd learned from Louis L'Amour.

  She also studied Trace Longford. He rode his horse as if he was part of it. His long legs tightened around the saddle, the muscles clearly defined in the indecently tight jeans he wore. His back was ramrod straight, like an arrogant Indian brave of old. Startled, with his copper skin and dark hair, she realized he might be part Indian.

  Not necessarily, since her own skin was dark, her own hair almost as black as his. But maybe. An Indian. On a ranch in Wyoming. Dare she ask him?

  A few minutes later Trace drew to a halt on the top of a small bluff. He swung his leg over his saddle horn and leaned his elbow on it, watching as Kalli drew near. Involuntarily she smiled at the picture he made. Now if he would only pull out a sack of tobacco and roll a cigarette—

  "That's the rest of the herd. As far from your house as it can get and still be on Triple T property."

  The cattle grazed slowly in the warming morning. Beyond than, Kalli could see the endless stretch of barbed wire fence.

  "You own the adjacent property?" she asked.

  "Yeah. That's why I want your place, to expand."

  "I must have other neighbors. I'll have to meet them."

  He looked at her with those dark eyes and nodded. "In time. You have too much to do right now. Socializing will have to wait." Alyssa had never wanted to work, she had only wanted to party. When Kalli finally realized she had to work first, she'd be glad to sell the land and return to Boston.

  Kalli's temper flared again. How dare he arrogantly tell her what she could or could not do? She was in charge around here, not Mr. High and Mighty Acting Foreman Trace Longford, and the sooner she made that clear to him the better.

  "I'll meet them if I choose and when I choose. What I do with my time is my concern, do you understand, Mr. Longford? You're working as my foreman, not my keeper."

  His own anger rose, as much due to the strumming tension being around her caused as the provocative sass of her words.

  "You listen to me, Miss Boston. You want me to work as the ranch foreman. If you don't like the orders I give, fire me. But if you want to run this ranch, your first responsibility is to learn as much as you can as fast as you so I can quit and get back to my own place. If you have another agenda, then I'll take myself off now and leave you to it today."

  His smoldering glare held her captive. The heat radiating from him, the tight line of his lips, the rigid way he held himself under control let Kalli know his temper could match hers any day. Maybe beat hers. She had to face it, she couldn't afford to have him leave. None of the other cowboys sounded as if they knew what to do beyond their own particular jobs. She needed Trace. And he knew it. But she'd watch him, ma
ke sure he didn't make things more difficult for her. Though she couldn't imagine things being any more difficult. The task ahead was monumental.

  Arrogant bastard, he knew it, too.

  She swallowed hard, not liking to back down. "Excuse me. I stand corrected," she said, biting the words out grudgingly. "If I've seen enough for today, perhaps we should head back and you can tell me about castrating and tagging and record keeping."

  It was just a matter of time, he thought as they turned toward the house. She was getting a feel for how complex and demanding the work was. She wouldn't last long.

  They rode in silence despite Kalli's request, riding the horses hard until the last couple of miles when they slowed them to a walk to cool them. By the time they reached the ranch house, Kalli was wilted. She was hot, her hair like a blanket on her back. Tired and sore and disheartened, she wished she could ignore the list of decisions Trace had enumerated. There was more to running this ranch than she thought. And being around Trace was driving her crazy. She'd never wanted anyone to approve of her as she did him. Never wanted anyone to be attracted to her as she did him.

  First thing she should do is find a foreman who wanted to run the ranch and let her sit on the porch and sip tea. But until then, she needed Trace. She didn't even know how to go about hiring another foreman. She wished she could treat him as casually as her brothers. But the feelings swamping her weren't in the slightest sisterly.

  As they drew up to the barn, Trace stopped by the corral. Easily dismounting, he flung the reins casually over the top rail and walked up to Kalli. She sat on the horse, too tired to even dismount.

  Reaching up for her, he clasped his hands lightly around her waist. "Come on, Boss Lady. Get down and go in the house and fix us something cold to drink. A sandwich wouldn't come amiss, either."

  Gently he drew her from the horse, sliding her to the ground before him. He gazed into her eyes as Kalli gripped his shoulders to steady herself.

  Her legs felt like wet spaghetti. Her senses roared out of control with his touch at her waist, with his hard body pressed against hers. His heat engulfed her, and she could smell the faint hint of masculine sweat mixed in with the dust from the corral and hay from the barn. Her hands tightened against the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling them contract as he drew her even closer.

  "You're a tiny thing for a woman full grown," he said huskily.

  Kalli pressed against him, relishing the heat that spread from her belly to each extremity. Looking up, she was lost. Tilting her head, she slowly closed her eyes as his face blotted out the sun, coming closer, closer until his lips touched hers. She moved her lips against his and opened to him when he sought more. His tongue plunged inside the hot cavern of her mouth, learning every bit of her, tracing her teeth, the roof of her mouth, mating with her tongue, inviting it into his mouth.

  Kalli was swept away with a riot of sensations she'd never felt before. She was instantly blazing hot, wanting him with a fervor that went beyond anything she’d known before. She plastered herself against him, feeling her breasts swell with desire, feeling her hands clutching his shoulders with an intensity that shocked her. When his arms came around her and molded her to his long length, she gave a sweet sigh of surrender and moved to deepen their kiss. She was raging out of control and didn't care. It was glorious. The sensations that coursed through her insisted that she comply with the demands of his body.

  He swept off her hat and wrapped his hand in the thick waves that hung down her back. Her hair was like silk. His other hand skimmed across her rounded bottom, pressing her up and into the hardness that pressed against her belly. She was soft and sweet and hot.

  This was madness, but Kalli didn't care. She only wanted to go on forever in Trace's embrace. The world spun out of sight, and there were only the two of than in a creation of their own. A hot, wild, world where his touch awoke needs in her that couldn't be extinguished.

  The spell was shattered when her horse bumped them. Staggering slightly, Trace caught her up and turned around so his back was to the mare. Easing away from Kalli, he stared into her sparkling eyes, his own blank and shuttered. Hell, he hadn't wanted that.

  She licked her lips, still tasting him. Smiling tremulously, she cocked her head slightly, feeling bereft as his arms released her and be slowly stood to his full height.

  "I thought you didn't like me," she said naively.

  "Lady, if you left right now I wouldn't shed a tear. But my damned body wants yours like hell!'' He scooped up her hat and set it hard on her head.

  Kalli's breathing caught, then released. Her heart pounded at his words, at his kiss. Her fingers longed to run themselves over the heat of his skin, learn the landscape of his muscles, learn what he liked and what he didn't. Her gaze dropped to his lips. She longed for him to kiss her again. Once again she traced her own, tasting him, feeling a shock at the intimacy they'd shared. She blinked again and turned toward the house, her legs shaky and trembling. She needed a respite from him. She couldn't believe she'd kissed him so thoroughly. For heaven's sake, she'd only met him yesterday afternoon. She hadn't even known him a day! Yet she had been attracted to him from the first. If he had pulled her down and tumbled her in the hay, she'd have been willing.

  She needed to get control of her hormones. That's what it was. She was so excited to be in Wyoming, she was losing what sense she had. Stepping into the cool kitchen, she tossed her hat on the table and ran her trembling fingers through her hair. She just needed some time to herself to put things into perspective.

  He didn't even like her! Yet he wanted her. What kind of relationship would that bring? Who was she kidding, that was no relationship, that was sex, pure and simple. Or hot and complex, but sex nonetheless. And she didn't want it. Well, she did, but with more than just animal lust behind it. She wanted caring and love.

  Love? From that arrogant, brash cowboy who ordered her around when he was supposed to be working for her? All the time trying to get her ranch? Ha!

  She opened the refrigerator and stared sightlessly at it until the cool air brought her around. Slamming it shut, she opened the freezer and took out the frozen lemonade. She hadn't finished unpacking, still needed to get groceries. She had a million things to do and no time to be mooning around about Trace Longford.

  Hunting for a pitcher, she slammed one cupboard door after another in frustration. What good did it do to inherit a ranch lock, stock and barrel if there was nothing to make lemonade with? Finally she drew out a large mixing bowl. It would have to do.

  She was measuring the water when she heard his boots on the back steps, and a moment later: the screen door slammed behind him. Suddenly the air seemed to arc with tension. Watching the water fill the can, she was afraid to look around. She still had to face him. And not only now, but for days and weeks to come. Her heart began pounding.

  She heard a whooshing sound but didn't turn around as his hat sailed onto the table beside hers. Her eyes remained on the lemonade. In two seconds he was beside her, casually leaning one hip against the counter, his arms folded across his chest, his legs crossed as he watched her stir the beverage.

  She could see him from the corner of her eye, but refused to meet his gaze. Glad her dark coloring would hide the heat rising in her body, she gave every aspect of concentration to making the lemonade.

  "You going to stir that all day?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

  "If I want to, I will. I'm the boss—"

  He broke into her speech by lifting her chin with his warm fingers, tilting her face to meet his.

  "It was only a kiss, Kalli. Lighten up. You've been kissed before."

  "But not like that," she murmured. Then closed her eyes in anguish. She hadn't wanted to admit it.

  When his thumb brushed across her mouth, her eyes flew open.

  "You can't stay here, Kalli. It's too much for you. You don't know enough and aren't going to have enough time to learn it before you run the place into the ground. Give it up a
nd go home." His gaze was on her mouth, on the movement of his thumb across her lips.

  "This is my home," she said breathlessly. "I'll learn all I need to know to run the place. And in the meantime I can hire people who do know."

  "While you stay—" he ignored her vow to remain "—I'll help you out. And if you want more than a few chaste kisses, I'm willing. I want you, Kalli."

  She so didn't know how to deal with such blatant desire. The men she'd dated in Boston had been smooth, sophisticated, restrained. They would never have been so blunt, especially on such short acquaintance.

  But none of them had ever stirred her senses as Trace did.

  She took a deep breath and clasped his wrist with her hand, longing to push him away, yet clamoring for more of his touch. Idly she noted his pulse was strong and steady, not racing like hers. His eyes met hers and he gazed at her for a long moment. She felt as if he could see into her soul.

  "Please, Trace. I can't. I don't know you. You don't know me. It's too soon." She knew she wasn't doing a good job of it, but she could scarcely think with the blood thrumming through her veins, the heat of his hand scorching her.

  He let his gaze slip across her, stalling for time while he tried to think. Her breasts were high and firm, a little on the small side. Yet his palms itched to cup them, feel their weight, make her nipples harden against his hot skin. Her waist was narrow, her hips gently flared, filling the jeans she wore like a man's dream. Being with her fostered a hunger in him he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't like it any more than she did.

  Hell.

  "So you call the shots, Boss Lady. Are you going to serve up that lemonade?" He moved away, sat at the table, his legs sprawled out before him, his thumbs tucked into his empty belt loops as he watched her.

  "Yes." She turned, glad of the activity. She would call the shots. She was the boss and she had better remember that. She was used to advising patients what to do. Maybe she could pretend Trace was a patient. Would he mind? Somehow she thought of him more as the recalcitrant kind, challenging her every recommendation, then doing whatever he damned well pleased.