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Randall Riches
Judy Christenberry
The Randall Saga Continues…Trapped like a hog-tied calf in a greasy spoon, champion bull rider Rich Randall had no choice but to accept the help of pretty diner waitress Samantha Jeffers to get himself, and his broken ankle, out of the one-horse town and home to Wyoming. In exchange, Rich would assist the feisty lady in her escape from the nefarious advances of her burger-slinging boss. But Rich was quick to inform Samantha there'd be no romantic strings attached to their bargain–and she was quick to laugh in his face! Which soon had the playboy wrangler wondering why she was immune to his legendary Randall charm, and eager to change her mind…any way he could!
Randall Riches
Judy Christenberry
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing full-time. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, but now lives in Arizona.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
Samantha Jeffers looked up as a rowdy bunch of cowboys piled out of the big booth. She’d waited on them, ignoring their flirting and serving them quickly and efficiently. She hoped they left a good tip, but probably not. The Hot Skillet wasn’t exactly a high-class restaurant. But it did good business, especially when the rodeo was in town. She’d heard the winter traffic was good in this part of Arizona during ski season, but she’d gotten here right at the end of February, as the lifts were just shutting down.
As soon as the men were out the door, she went over to clear the big booth…and discovered the cowboys had left one of their friends behind. The man was slumped down, his face pale.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Slowly, as if his lids were too heavy, he opened his eyes. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered and closed his eyes again.
“Mister, the boss won’t let you tie up this booth to sleep off your hangover.” She wasn’t trying to be mean, just stating the facts.
He opened his eyes again and sat straighter. The movement caused him to wince.
“Are you hurt?”
“Uh, maybe.”
“Sam?” her boss called from behind the counter. “You gettin’ that booth ready? There’s a large party comin’ in.”
“I still have a customer,” she turned and called over her shoulder.
“He orderin’ anything?”
“Mister, you’ll have to order something,” she whispered, “or he’ll throw you out for sure.”
“I can’t,” he growled.
“Look, I’ll cover the cost, but—”
“No. I think I have to go to the hospital.”
Samantha frowned. “Mister, our food’s not that bad.” Her poor joke got a half smile out of him, which impressed Sam. He was obviously in pain. “Want me to call an ambulance?”
“No! I don’t want anyone to know. My truck’s here. I don’t suppose you could drive me?”
Checking her watch, Sam realized she had fifteen more minutes of her regular shift, but she’d come in four hours early, at 6:00 a.m. this morning, as a favor for Brad, her boss. He should be able to spare her for fifteen minutes. “Wait a minute. I’ll see.”
She put down the big tray she’d carried to the table and crossed to the counter. “Brad, I need to leave fifteen minutes early.”
He didn’t look at her, a sure sign he was unhappy. She’d been here a little over a month and had learned to read his moods early. “Not ’til your shift’s over.”
“Brad, I started at six this morning as a favor. Seems to me you could reciprocate.”
“Don’t use them big words on me!”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, it’s not for me. That cowboy’s sick. I’m going to drive him to the hospital.”
“You mean you’re gonna get in his bed. Don’t lie to me!”
“Brad, that’s none of your business. I do my job and I’ve done more than my share today. I’m going.”
She turned away and he yelled, “If you leave, don’t come back!”
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and made a quick decision. She didn’t like working here even if the tips were decent. And Brad had been trying to get a little too familiar lately. “Fine,” she said calmly. “I’ll clear out my locker.”
RICH RANDALL FROWNED as he realized what had just happened. The waitress had just been fired because he’d asked for her help.
Now he regretted his ridiculous pride for not asking his friends, well, his semifriends, for help. He hadn’t thought about the waitress’s situation. She’d ignored all the horsing around of the guys while she’d waited on them. Hal had won the bronc riding at the rodeo. Rich had come in second to Jay in the bull riding competition. The whole group had been celebrating most of the day.
Before he could consider his choices, the waitress, pretty in a quiet way, came out from behind the counter, carrying a big pouch purse over one shoulder and a sweater over her arm. “Ready?” she asked cheerfully.
“Look, I don’t want to cost you your job. We can call an ambulance.”
“No need. Is your truck automatic or stick?”
“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to ignore the pain in his ankle and read her expression.
“I’m sure. Can you walk out of here?”
He’d make it up to her somehow he thought—when the pain eased. “Yeah, I think so.”
She slid the table back, giving him room and then, as he stood, slid an arm around his waist. “Is it your leg?”
“My ankle. I—I must’ve sprained it.”
“Which leg?”
“The right one. That’s why I can’t drive my truck,” he said, still standing on his left leg, knowing when he shifted weight to the right one, he was going to be in even more pain.
“Let me get on the other side. Lean on me.”
She had a slender build. Even at five foot six, which was what he guessed her height to be, she couldn’t weight more than 110 pounds.
As if she read his mind, she said, “I’m stronger than I look. Come on. I want to get out of here before Brad loses his temper.”
“He hasn’t lost it yet?” Rich asked, thinking her sangfroid impressive.
She didn’t say anything, but she started him moving.
The first time he put his weight on the right foot, he almost sank to the floor.
She straightened him up again and said, “I suggest you hop. Won’t look too impressive, but that way we can get you out of here without you fainting.”
Awkwardly, he complied with her suggestion. Each hop jarred the injury, but it was better than trying to walk on his right foot.
Outside, she paused for him to rest. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he managed to reply. “The black truck over there,” he added, nodding at the line of vehicles to the right.
“Thank God you didn’t park down the hill,” she said, still smiling.
Rich was amazed at her good nature, but then she wasn’t in pain like him. Her life wasn’t in disarray like his. Her future couldn’t possibly be as bleak as his.
“Here we go,” she announced, her grip around his waist tightening.
Just a few more steps and he could rest. He gritted his teeth and hopped.
Five minutes later, he slumped against the side of his truck, exhausted.
“Your keys?”
“In my pocket,” he said, panting but not moving.
“You mean you want me to get them out?” she asked. No more good nature. She sounded cold and unfeeling. “Look, cowboy, if this is just a come-on, you’d better find a better approach.”
Rich stood there, his mouth hanging open, as she started walking away.
“Wait! I’m not—I didn’t—” He reached out and lost his balance, falling, his cry hoarse with pain.
She came back to stare down at him.
“Damn it, do you think I could fake this? I’ll find the damn keys,” he assured her. She waited, saying nothing. He rammed his hand into the tight jeans pocket and found the keys, dragging them out. “Here. Satisfied?”
An agonizing moment passed before she bent over and helped him up. Then, without a word, she unlocked the passenger door of his truck. “Are you going to be able to get in there?”
He nodded. Even that movement brought pain. But he pulled himself up and in with his arm muscles. As he slid onto the seat, he was surprised when she lifted his right foot and gently placed it on the floorboard.
She disappeared around the truck, unlocked that door and climbed in. With ease, she slid the key in the ignition and shifted into reverse.
“You okay?” he muttered, fighting to stay conscious. The pain had gotten worse. He feared he would break into tears at any moment, and he’d be horribly embarrassed.
“How did you hurt yourself?” the lady asked after she had them on the road.
“A bull.”
“You’re a bull rider?” she asked. After he nodded, she said, “You’re crazier than I thought. You landed wrong?”
“You could say that,” he muttered wryly.
She pulled into the hospital parking lot and around the side to the door marked Emergency Room. Instead of parking, she stopped at the door. “Stay put. I’ll get a wheelchair.”
He thought about it, but finally he nodded. There wouldn’t be anyone here he was afraid would see him being wheeled into the hospital.
In almost no time, Samantha reappeared with a big, burly orderly and a wheelchair. The man pulled him out of the cab of his truck and eased him into the chair. Rich missed the waitress’s feminine touch.
“I’ll go park the truck,” she said and got behind the wheel.
It occurred to Rich that the woman could drive off with his truck and he’d never see it again. “You’ll come back, right?”
