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Luke didn’t release her jaw. Instead his touch lingered. His eyes studied her face. One corner of his mouth tilted upward, but it wasn’t a smile. “Beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re too damned beautiful.”
The way he said it was an insult. Shannon snapped her head out of his grasp and nearly sent herself into another swoon. She turned, plucked the keys from her pocket and scrabbled for the truck’s door handle. He was there ahead of her.
“You’re in no shape to do this.” He rapped the words out. “I’ll drive you back to town.”
“Absolutely not,” she responded, her eyes flashing as she turned to him. “You’ve done quite enough.”
“No, I haven’t.” He snagged the keys from her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Shannon watched in impotent fury as he took the horses to the barn, unsaddled them and turned them into the corral. She wanted to run after him and demand the return of the keys. Unfortunately, he was right. She was in no shape to drive or to go tearing around after him.
But he didn’t have to be so high-handed about it.
Accepting defeat, she climbed into the truck and sat behind the wheel, arms folded and lips drawn into an angry line as she waited for him to return with the keys. He was back within a few minutes and didn’t even pause when he saw her. He scooted her aside and took her place behind the steering wheel.
“I guess it won’t do any good to point out that this vehicle belongs to the agency and only its employees are allowed to drive it?” she asked.
“You’re right. It won’t do any good at all. Fasten your seat belt.”
“How will you get home?”
Luke stuck his right thumb in the air. “I’ll hitchhike.”
Shannon turned in her seat to examine his grim profile, the hard set of his jaw. With his face shadowed beneath the brim of his black hat, he reminded her of a gunslinger of the old west. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “There’ll be any number of people willing to pick you up.”
“I bet you’d be surprised.”
“Not today,” she said wearily. “Nothing about you would surprise me.”
He stopped at the highway to wait for traffic and shaved a look in her direction. “You don’t have this whole diplomacy thing down too firmly, do you, Miss Kelleher?”
“I thought I did until I met you, Mr. Farraday.”
That brought another of those gritty laughs.
Shannon didn’t respond. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling unsettled, infuriated and powerless all at the same time. She’d never been around any man who was so determined to have his own way, who was so convinced his own way was right.
Turning her head, she stared at the scenery they passed. Cattle grazing in the lush grass in a field belonging to the McAdam family gave way to a field of prairie flax waving its lavender blossoms in the breeze. Two years ago, their fields had been as badly overgrazed as Luke’s, but they’d prospered with a little help from her and lots of good management by the McAdams. She wouldn’t waste her breath telling Luke that, though.
She told herself it was none of her business. She had tried and failed, but it galled her.
“Sulking won’t make me change my mind,” Luke said, giving her a sideways glance.
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You could also stick your bottom lip out and start crying, but that won’t make me change my mind, either.”
Chin in the air, she said, “Even if I thought it would, I wouldn’t resort to that. I’m a professional.”
He didn’t answer, but she saw his face twitch. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was fighting a grin.
They reached Tarrant within twenty minutes, and she directed him to the agency’s office building. It was a small redbrick structure, and the windows of Wiley’s office faced the parking lot. Shannon noticed a shadow behind the miniblinds and knew that her boss lurked there, watching her arrival. He would have something to say to her about letting Luke drive her back to the office. That was okay, though. She had plenty to say to him.
Luke parked the truck, stepped out and hurried around to help her out before she could gather her clipboard and reach for the door handle. When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand. “Don’t bother to thank me. I know you wouldn’t mean it.”
“No,” she responded, exasperated. “I wouldn’t.”
His long, callused fingers touched the brim of his hat. “Then let’s don’t be hypocritical by wishing each other a good day. It hasn’t been a good day for either of us.” With that, he turned and strode toward the street, his long legs and easy stride covering the distance in seconds.
Watching him go, Shannon slumped against the side of the truck and shook her head. “Who was that masked man?” she whispered with a silent laugh. She felt as if she’d spent three hours in his company and knew little more than she had when she’d stood on the floor of his barn and appreciated the sight of his backside.
In that time, she had gone through almost every emotion a person could feel, from appreciation to happiness to fury and indignation. No wonder she was dizzy.
Luke strode around the corner, then stopped and stepped back to see if Shannon was all right. She was just disappearing inside the building. Good. She was safely in her office, at her job, in her own life. She wouldn’t be coming to his place again. He’d made sure of that, though he knew he should be ashamed of his rudeness.
He resumed walking down the wide sidewalk of Tarrant’s main street. If he’d been capable of it, he would have stopped to appreciate what a pretty little town it was, but he hadn’t chosen the area for the beauty of its county seat. He’d bought the Crescent Ranch because he could afford it and he could own it outright. No sharing. Never again would he be in a position to let someone have a say in his place. Not financially. Not agriculturally.
Not even a beautiful range management specialist with midnight blue eyes and black hair was going to tell him how to run his place. Unconsciously, Luke’s hand went to the pocket where he’d tucked her card. Yeah, he’d kept it, though he didn’t know why. He’d never use it.
What he had told her was true. She was too damned beautiful. She was also too damned disturbing. He didn’t need that. He had work to do. Alone. He liked it that way.
He crossed to the side of the street where the traffic was heading east, toward home, and stuck out his thumb. The irony of thinking such thoughts, then begging for a ride wasn’t lost on him, but he wasn’t going to make a practice of asking for things from his neighbors, not even rides. The fewer things he asked for, the fewer obligations he had, the less he would be disappointed. Hurt.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was something in Shannon Kelleher’s big eyes and sweet mouth that could disappoint and hurt a man. He didn’t need that.
But her card was in his pocket, and he left it there.
Wiley pounced as soon as she walked in the door. “Who was that guy? And what was he doing driving my truck?”
Shannon lifted an eyebrow as she skirted around him and headed for her small office. “When did the agency sign the truck over to be your personal vehicle?”
“You know what I mean.” He dogged her steps.
In a cool tone, Shannon explained what had happened. Typically, Wiley didn’t express any concern for her welfare. She wasn’t surprised. Her boss was a secretive man whose main interest was himself.
“I know you lied to me when you said no one had contacted him.” She pointed a finger at him. “You tried to call him on the phone last week, and when he wouldn’t talk to you, you sent me out there. How I got back is my own business.”
Wiley’s ferocious frown told her he didn’t care that she knew he’d lied. “Did you do any good out there? Get him to sign on for the project?”
Shannon locked her shoulder bag in her desk drawer and sat down to go through her mail. “Not yet. But I will.” She wished she felt the confidence she put into her voice.
“Humph,” he said, turning to leave her office. “You can’t do this job. They should have hired a man for it.”
Shannon wanted to respond that they should have hired a man for Wiley’s job, too, but that would surely get her into hot water. She was growing weary of the constant struggles with him, and lately his animosity was tinged with an undercurrent she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He watched everything she did almost jealously, but she concluded it was because he had wanted his nephew to get her job. She could only think that he couldn’t seem to forgive her for being better qualified for the job—or for being a woman. Her only consolation was the knowledge that it was his problem, not hers.
As she cleared her desk, Shannon came across the paperwork she’d begun to get Ben and Timmy started on the lengthy grant awards process. They would have needed government money to fix up the Crescent Ranch. Except for their names and the date of purchase, she had filled in all the necessary information. It was true that she wanted to help her cousins, but it was part of her job. She would have done the same thing for a total stranger like Luke Farraday. Maybe she still could. She would hold on to these. He might change his mind. With a wry smile, Shannon told herself she was being ridiculously optimistic. She dropped the forms into a drawer and closed it.
She propped her elbows on her desk and pressed her fingertips to her lips as she wondered if there was any way to get him to change his mind. He’d told her that he didn’t want anyone telling him how to run his place, but she thought there was more to it than that. She didn’t know any rancher who liked government interference, but most of them were willing to work with her for the betterment of their land and cattle. She would have to think about the situation with Luke and see if she could come up with a better approach—just as soon as she stopped dwelling on what a disturbingly attractive man he was.
On Saturday morning, Shannon happily snuggled her two-month-old niece, Christina, against her chest and tucked a light blanket around her as they made their way down the sidewalk of Tarrant’s business district. Her mother and two sisters, Brittnie and Becca, were at the grand opening of Lauren’s Boutique, a shop owned by a friend of the family. Shannon, who hated shopping on the best of days, had no desire to go into that crowd no matter how much she wished Lauren well, so she had volunteered to take care of Becca’s baby.
Her family teased that she really didn’t care very much about clothes, and that was true, though she’d sought to please them today by dressing in a red shorts and top outfit that Brittnie had brought back last November from her honeymoon in Mexico. She liked the outfit because the shorts weren’t too snug or revealing and the top was loose enough to be comfortable.
Shannon pushed the stroller with one hand, held the baby with the other and drifted down the walk, gazing in windows and stopping frequently to talk to shoppers, most of them friends who wanted a look at Christina.
The sidewalk ended in front of the feed store, and she started to turn toward the boutique only to get the stroller caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Carefully supporting Christina, she was bending to free it when a hand came down, picked the stroller up and spun it around in the direction she wanted to go.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling and glancing up. She straightened abruptly, and surprise sponged the smile off her lips when she saw that her rescuer was Luke Farraday. “Oh, it’s you.”
He lifted a brow at her. “So it seems. Are you feeling better?”
The solicitous words were belied by the coolness of his tone. Shannon wondered why the contrasts in this man seemed to fascinate her so much. It had been more than a week since she’d been to his ranch, but she’d thought about him every day. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m completely well now.”
He nodded toward Christina. “Not yours, I take it, since you told me you’re not married.”
“My niece.” Shannon turned Christina so Luke could see her face. The whole Kelleher Saunders family agreed that she was an exceptionally beautiful baby, with her dark eyes and wispy hair. The baby looked at Luke and broke into one of her rare smiles.
Shannon glanced up in time to see something move in Luke’s eyes, a swift shadow of longing that first set her back on her heels, then made her doubt what she had seen, so quickly was it gone.
The thought flashed through her mind that he was determined to remain a loner, but even he had vulnerabilities. She wondered if it could be that he had the same needs most people had for family. She wished she knew more about him. She knew he lived, and ranched, alone.
Luke’s gaze flashed to hers, and the softness she’d seen disappeared. She glanced down to see he was carrying a box of items from the feed store. “You’ve been shopping,” she said lamely.
“Isn’t that what everyone’s doing here on a Saturday morning?” he asked, nodding toward the mass of shoppers. “Except you, it seems.”
“I only shop when my back’s to the wall.”
“You don’t like buying stacks of new clothes, maybe some diamonds, a fur coat?”
She burst out laughing. “And wear them where? To help Pete Minton reseed his north pasture? Luke, you’re a riot.”
At her flippant tone, he narrowed his eyes. “Then you’re an unusual woman.”
“I thought we’d already established that.”
“Yeah, I guess we did.” He tipped his hat to her and started to turn away, but he paused, looking up the sidewalk with a frown.
CHAPTER THREE
SHANNON’S attention followed his to see what he was looking at Automatically, she stiffened at the sight of Gus Blackhawk approaching. His feet shuffled as if he could barely lift them. His gray hair was disheveled, as were his clothes. He wore jeans and a faded green shirt topped by a winter jacket, despite the heat of the June day.
Shannon gaped at him. She hadn’t seen him in months and had never seen him looking like this. He was a proud man, always well-dressed, disdainful of those he considered beneath him. But today he looked like a bum. Even as her heart went out to him, she tightened her arms protectively around Christina.
Luke saw her movement and gave her a curious look just as Mr. Blackhawk reached them. He would have passed them by, but Luke said, “Good morning, Mr. Blackhawk,” and the old man stopped.
His eyes, once a deep, dark blue, now murky, lifted to Luke. He stared for a few seconds before he responded, “Oh, Farraday. Yeah, hello.” Unfocused, his gaze slanted to Shannon and Christina. He studied her blankly for a moment, then his lip curled. “You’re that girl of Mary Jane’s. Bet your family wasn’t too happy when I sold to this guy, huh?”
Shannon was offended by his gloating tone, but before she could react, Luke gave her a swift glance and broke in. “Mr. Blackhawk,” he said. “We’re sorry we interrupted your . . . business.” He stunned Shannon by stepping protectively between her and the old man. His voice was harder than steel as he said, “We’ll let you be on your way.”
Mr. Blackhawk blinked as if he’d forgotten Luke was there and couldn’t understand why he was interfering. Shannon swallowed a bubble of hysteria. She couldn’t understand it, either, but she was grateful.
Luke shifted the box he carried to his hip, then he took Shannon’s arm and turned her, stroller and all, hustling her and her niece down the sidewalk.
Shannon stumbled along with him, upset and disconcerted. “Thank you,” she stammered. “I wish I could tell you what that was all about. He’s an unhappy old man who’s always disliked my family, but—”
Luke sliced a glance at her, his jaw set, his eyes cold. “It’s his problem, not yours.”
“I guess so.” She was taken aback by Luke’s swift protectiveness. She knew it was old-fashioned chivalry and nothing personal, but still, she was speechless with surprise. When they arrived in front of Lauren’s Boutique, she stopped him. “I’m meeting my family here.” She sent him a grateful smile. “Thank you again. You were very considerate and . . . chivalrous in the face of his rudeness.” She blushed. Luke had been rude to her the day they had met.
Strangely, he didn’t seem to welcome her gratitude. Maybe he, too, was recalling his rudeness. “I’ll be going then,” he said. “Goodbye, Miss Kelleher.”
Shannon hugged her niece and swayed as she watched him turn swiftly and stroll away. She was grateful to see that Gus Blackhawk was nowhere in sight. Luke reached a brown pickup, set the box in the back and climbed in, then reversed out of the spot and drove down the street.
Shannon saw that his truck still had its Arizona license plate. His vehicle told her a little bit more about him. He might have the money to buy the Crescent Ranch and to take his time about getting it into shape to raise cattle, but he didn’t waste his funds on a new truck when a ten-year old one would get him where he needed to go.
This was becoming like a game, she thought, as she bent to place Christina in her stroller and strap her in carefully. The more she wanted to learn about Luke Farraday, the more he seemed to hide. That was why he fascinated her. She was convinced that once she got to know him, he wouldn’t seem so intriguing.
Shannon had always liked puzzles and ciphers, and Luke certainly qualified. The way to solve a puzzle was to find its secret key.
Shannon gave Luke a week after seeing him in Tarrant. He hadn’t contacted her office—not that she thought he would. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want help from her or any other person or agency. Ordinarily, she would respect that, but she was sure that, given a little more time and persuasion, she could get him to change his mind.
Her motives weren’t purely unselfish, she admitted, as she packed a lunch to take on Friday’s rounds. While it was true that thinking about the methods she could use to get the Crescent back into shape was enough to make her excited about the project, she also wanted to prove to Wiley Frost that she could do her job.
She leaned against the kitchen counter to sip her morning coffee. Absently, her gaze scanned her apartment. Though it was tiny and furnished with castoffs from the homes of her mother and sisters, it was cheerful and full of the shades of blue and green she loved. Plants flourished before the big window that looked on the small apartment building’s lawn. She moved from the kitchen area and examined the plants, plucking a few dry leaves off the philodendron.
Her problems with Wiley were only part of the reason she needed to talk to Luke again. There was something about Luke that intrigued her, drew her to him. Maybe it was because he seemed like such a loner, though she was sure he would deny being lonely. Maybe it was because he didn’t seem to like her.
While she didn’t feel any particular need to be liked by everyone she met, she thrived on challenge. Her mother said she’d always done things the hard way, and Shannon knew she probably wasn’t going to change. And dealing with Luke was definitely a challenge.
With a determined step, she returned to the kitchen, set her cup down and finished making her salad. As she was reaching for some cookies to add to her lunch, she paused and tilted her head. She and her nephew, Jimmy, had made the chocolate chip cookies last night when he’d come to spend the evening with her. Even though his help had consisted of scooping out and eating chunks of dough when he thought she wasn’t looking, the cookies had turned out to be delicious.
Shannon examined the container with narrowed eyes, then smiled ruefully. Luke Farraday definitely didn’t seem like the type of man who would be influenced by baked goods. She was sure that the way to his heart was not through his stomach, but still, cookies might soften him up.
Unbelievable that she was thinking in these terms. She’d spent her life trying to be accepted for her brains rather than her looks or her abilities in the kitchen. The idea of being seen as a helpless female was abhorrent to her though she was also practical enough to know that she’d damaged her image when she’d fainted at Luke’s feet.
Smiling, she gathered a handful of cookies and tossed them into a self-sealing bag. The truth was, she was a fabulous cook, and there was the barest outside chance that taking him a few cookies might make him pause long enough to get him to listen to her. She had two other ranches to visit first. Then she would spend the rest of the day with Luke.
If he would let her.
“This better be a neighborly visit and not an official one,” Luke said as he strode toward where she’d parked the agency truck.
When she had driven into the yard, she’d seen him coming out of the barn with a roll of barbed wire, which he’d tossed into the back of his truck. She was relieved that she’d caught him. If she’d been a few minutes later, he would have been gone.
Seeing him striding toward her in his work clothes of denim shirt, jeans and dusty boots, his accustomed scowl fixed in its usual place just under the brim of his battered straw cowboy hat, she felt a surge of excitement and anticipation. Since meeting him, she’d somehow become enthralled with the idea of living dangerously.
Shannon grabbed the bag of cookies and let it dangle from her fingers as she stepped to the ground. When she answered him, her tone was as direct as his. “Oh? You’re accepting neighborly visits, then?”
Luke stopped in front of her and rested his hands on his waist as his gaze shifted from her to the bag and back again. “That depends. Are you the local welcoming committee today?”
