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Sighing heavily, Carly headed for the staircase to the second floor. She might as well pick a bedroom for herself. Someone would probably be bringing in her luggage at any moment.
Halfway up the stairs she went back down and found a telephone. Dialing her father’s private number, she left a message on his voice mail: “Hi, Dad, it’s me. I’m at the ranch and everything is fine. Hope your business trip to London is going well, though you probably only just got there. Anyway, call if and when you want, though don’t feel it’s necessary. We’ll talk when you have the time. Love you. Bye.”
Three
Jake was sorely disappointed and more than a little angry. The two men who’d spotted the stallion, then chased him, had quite a story to tell when Jake finally met up with them shortly before suppertime.
“We’d a caught him for sure if that danged helicopter hadn’t spooked our horses,” Artie Campbell said disgustedly.
“We would’ve, Jake,” Joe Franklin agreed. “In two seconds flat that devil was in the woods. We followed, but it was a waste of time. He can race through trees and underbrush faster than greased lightning.”
“Did you happen to spot any of our mares?” Jake spoke stiffly, because his entire body was stiff. Losing the stallion today was Carly Paxton’s fault. Jake had put two and two together about the helicopter veering just before landing. Carly had noticed the men chasing the stallion and had wanted a closer look. The pilot, of course, had merely done as she’d asked.
“Not a one of ‘em,” Artie said. “He must have ‘em hid out somewhere.”
Jake nodded grimly. “Okay, you men did your best today. Maybe we’ll have better luck the next time he shows himself. I’m going to go clean up for supper. See you later.”
Heading for the house, Jake battled the irritation and resentment prickling his system. Carly Paxton was a royal pain in the neck. There was a darned good chance of that rogue stallion having been captured today. Without Carly’s nosiness, that thieving horse might be installed in an escape-proof steel pen right now, and Jake could be trying to figure out what to do with him instead of cursing the frustration gnawing a hole in his gut.
Entering the house by the back door, Jake paused in the kitchen to cool down his temper. As much as he’d like to lambaste Carly for her role in this afternoon’s fiasco with the stallion, he had to treat her cordially. The situation galled Jake, but he was stuck with it. Stuck with that woman on the ranch for only God knew how long.
Jake sighed heavily. If she wasn’t Stuart’s daughter…
But therein lay the bind. She was Stuart’s daughter, and already he’d snapped at her and even let her think he would shoot that stallion just because she had annoyed him with her questions. He’d better shape up and be nice, however much it went against his grain. Snorting disgustedly, Jake left the kitchen, took a quick look through the first-floor rooms in case Carly was downstairs, then headed for the second floor.
There were four large bedrooms up there—including the one he used—and he started knocking on doors and calling, “Carly?”
She was still unpacking, hanging clothes in the closet and putting other things in bureau drawers, when she heard Jake’s voice. Going to the door of the room she’d chosen, she opened it. “Yes?” she said coolly.
Jake tried very hard to smile, to appear relaxed and congenial. “Did you get settled in?”
“I’m working on it.”
Looking into her beautiful green eyes made Jake nervous, and he averted his gaze and resented Carly for unnerving him in such a personal way. Certainly he was still angry with her, but deep down he knew that anger was not the cause of his present discomfort. He didn’t want to be attracted to a woman he just barely knew and thus far didn’t much care for, but there were sparks in his body that were undeniably sexual. It might have been a while for him, but the signs of physical attraction were never really forgotten, even if a man strove diligently to forget a past he’d be better off not having.
Shying from such discomfiting thoughts, Jake uneasily shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. “Uh, there are a few things I should’ve told you about when you first got here.”
He seemed unduly uncomfortable to Carly, but she didn’t feel particularly kindly toward him and she felt no sympathy at all for this overbearing man. “Tell me now,” she said without a trace of warmth or friendliness.
“Yes, thanks, I will. I stocked the kitchen with groceries, in case you wanted to avoid taking your meals with the men. You’re welcome to eat in the men’s dining room, of course, but that’s up to you. Incidentally, Barney, the cook, will be ringing the dinner bell in about—” Jake checked his watch “—fifteen minutes.”
“Dad told me the same thing about meals. Thank you for providing groceries.” Thanking him was an automatic reflex. Carly believed she had Banyon pretty much figured out: he was only putting up with her because she was his boss’s daughter. Jake had out-and-out lied when he’d told her that she was no intrusion at all. He didn’t like her being here, and he was, naturally, trying to conceal how he really felt about it.
“You’re welcome. The other thing I forgot to mention when you arrived was transportation. There’s a car in the garage you can use when you want. The keys are hanging on a hook in the kitchen—easy to find—and…”
Carly cut in. “Is it your car?”
“No, it’s yours. I mean, your dad bought it and…”
She broke in again. “Then it belongs to the ranch. I’ll be happy to use it with one condition. If you need it you’ll tell me so I don’t go off someday and leave you stranded.”
Jake frowned. Maybe she really didn’t intend to intrude and have everything her way while she was here. Her attitude on the car was decent and unselfish, even though he rarely drove it and she could call it her own during her visit.
“Well, that’s about it,” he said lamely. “See you later.”
Not tonight, you won’t! Since there was food in the kitchen, she would prepare her own dinner and eat alone. She was in no mood to dine with a bunch of strangers, especially male strangers. Truth was, she didn’t like men very much anymore. Her ex had really done a number on her, and if one man on this ranch leered at her, or even tried to flirt with her, she was apt to smack him.
Shutting the door after Jake had gone, she went to a window and looked out. She might not like its manager, but she could find no fault with the ranch itself. Other than the house, that is, which, if nothing else, needed a good cleaning.
But the area was quiet, peaceful and scenically beautiful. Maybe her dad had been right to suggest that she spend some time here.
Her blood stirred suddenly. However tranquil this place appeared to be, it had disturbing aspects. One, at least, that wild stallion. Had she spoken her mind clearly enough on that subject to make Banyon understand that he or any of his men had better not shoot that horse?
Agitated again, Carly knew she would not rest until she was positive that Banyon had taken her seriously. The mere idea of deliberately killing a healthy horse was appalling and she simply was not going to stand for it.
Marching from her bedroom, she went to the door of Jake’s room and knocked loudly. It opened after a minute, and she was startled to see Banyon dripping water and wearing nothing but a towel around his lower half.
Her heart sank. She should have figured out that he’d been planning on taking a shower before dinner and she most certainly should not have put them both in this embarrassing situation.
“Uh, sorry,” she stammered, looking everywhere but at him. Still, the look she’d gotten when he’d opened the door was etched on her brain. He was, without a doubt, the sexiest-looking guy she’d ever set eyes on.
She began backing away. “Sorry I—I disturbed you. I was going, uh, going to tell you something, but it…it can wait.”
Holding the towel together at his waist, Jake stepped into the hall. “Wait a minute! If you have something to tell me, go ahead and say it.”
She couldn’t do it, not with him half-naked and stirring feelings within her that she had wholeheartedly believed were dead and buried.
“Tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder as she hastened down the hall to her own bedroom. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” With her heart thumping hard, she closed the door behind herself. “Damn,” she whispered, terribly shaken over that little scene. How could she have been so dense as to not realize that he’d come to the house to clean up for dinner?
Jake stood in the hall until her bedroom door closed, wondering what that had been all about. Then he glanced down at himself and couldn’t help chuckling. Obviously his opening his bedroom door wearing just a towel had disoriented Carly, which seemed pretty funny until he visualized her opening her door half-naked.
The amusement faded from his system, and, scowling darkly, he reentered his bedroom and shut the door. The next time someone came to his room unexpectedly he’d damned well better remember who it was that could be doing the knocking.
Hordes of people paraded through Carly’s dreams that night—her ex-husband, many of her friends and…Jake Banyon. All the dreams were disturbing, but the one about Jake was the worst; he wasn’t wearing even a towel in that dream, he was stark naked!
Carly awoke in a sweat, practically gasping for air. She jumped out of bed and ran to the window she’d opened before retiring, where she sucked in huge breaths of cool night air. She was not attracted to Jake Banyon, she told herself, she wasn’t! Dreaming of him naked was perverted. What was wrong with her?
“Oh, no,” she whispered as the details of that dream became much too clear in her mind. Banyon had been fully aroused and walking toward her with shadowed eyes, and she’d been on fire and…and…
Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. Why on earth would her brain devise such an erotic dream about a man she didn’t even like?
The next day, dressed in jeans and boots, with her long hair arranged in a single braid, Carly hiked around the compound, peering into barns and other outbuildings, and generally getting acquainted with the lay of the land. She found the garage and the car Jake had told her to use if she wanted, and she tried to picture him driving an ordinary car and found it hard to do. From what she’d seen of him so far, pickups and sports utility models seemed more his style. Instinct told her that his machismo was neither forced nor phony. He was so typically the western male—as portrayed in movies and novels, she thought cynically—that there was no way she could place him in any other scenario.
Moving on, she realized that there were no men about— not even one of the ranch hands. She stopped at a corral to pet a pretty palomino mare’s nose and thought of taking a ride. The mare seemed gentle and responsive to her voice and caresses, and being on a horse seemed like a wonderful way to spend a few hours.
But where were the saddles kept? There must be a tack room in one of the barns, she decided, and headed for the nearest one.
She was almost there when she heard music. She stopped to listen closer so she could determine where it was coming from. Her gaze swept the compound.
“The cookhouse,” she whispered, and veered from the barn to investigate that building. Inside was a large dining room, with numerous tables and chairs. She walked through that room to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. An older man wearing a white apron was peeling potatoes at the sink.
“Barney?” she said.
He turned around and grinned. “Ms. Paxton?”
Smiling, Carly walked in and offered her hand. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard Dad praise your cooking.”
Barney hastily turned down the radio, wiped his palm on his apron and heartily shook her hand. “That’s real nice to hear, ma’am, real nice. Your pa is a real nice gent, real nice.”
“Yes, he is, Barney, and please call me Carly.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I’ll do that.”
Carly had to smile again. “It smells very good in here.”
“That’s cause I’ve got some cakes in the oven. Uh, everyone knows you arrived yesterday, but what did you do, eat alone in that big empty house last night?”
“Yes, I really didn’t feel like company.”
“Well, tell you what. Anytime you don’t want company at mealtime, you just come to the kitchen and I’ll prepare a nice plate you can take to the house. You don’t even have to walk through the dining room, if you don’t want to. As you can see, the kitchen has its own door.”
“That’s very kind, Barney, thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that offer.”
“Anytime, ma’am, anytime.”
“Well, I know you’re busy. It was good meeting you, Barney.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
Carly started out, then stopped. “Barney, do you know the name of the palomino in the big corral?”
“Sure, that’s Goldie. Pretty thing, ain’t she?”
“Very. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Carly exited by the kitchen door. Barney was a dear, and Carly felt good because there was at least one person on the ranch she could talk to without worrying about how he might take what she said. That thought bothered her. Was she really worried over how Banyon might take anything she said?
“Not on your life,” she mumbled under her breath. Banyon might be the top dog in these parts, but he didn’t daunt her one little bit.
Even when he’s half-naked? A tingle went up Carly’s spine at the image that question provoked, and she tensed her lips in self-annoyance. That man was not going to get to her, not if he walked around completely naked, damn his arrogant hide!
Quick-stepping to the large barn again, Carly went inside and located the tack room. It was a beautiful day, and she wasn’t going to waste it by puttering in the house. There were a number of saddles on racks, and she picked one and carried it out to the corral. The golden mare was as gentle as Carly had thought and stood quite still while Carly put first a blanket, then the saddle, on her back.
Leading Goldie from the corral Carly mounted, and it was a marvelous sensation to be on horseback again. Exhilarated, Carly nudged the mare into a walk and headed for open country.
Jake and three of his men returned to the compound around noon. The others had their lunches with them, as they were moving cattle from one pasture to another in the southernmost portion of the ranch.
Riding up to the main corral near the largest barn, Jake pulled his horse to a halt and frowned. “Did someone move Goldie to another corral?” he asked.
All three men looked blank. One of them finally said, “Not that I know of, Jake,” and the other two agreed.
Jake looked at that empty corral and felt a discomfiting premonition in his gut. But it was a premonition without definition, and he honestly didn’t know what was causing it, except for the fact that he hadn’t asked anyone to move Goldie and someone had. Goldie was a valuable horse and she was in season. Jake had put her in this particular corral so he could keep a close eye on her. He’d been planning to mate her with Caesar, a pale blond thoroughbred stallion, when the time was right.
“Jake, maybe that wild stallion stole her,” one of the men said. “He’s getting bolder all the time. Maybe he came right into the compound this morning and stole Goldie while everyone was gone.”
Startled by that idea, Jake studied the high pole fencing of the corral and tried to visualize Goldie, or any other horse on the place, having enough space in the enclosure to get up enough speed to jump the fence. Mares in season and stallions accomplished remarkable feats to get to each other, but clearing that high fence from a short distance would be more than remarkable. It would be damn near impossible.
“I don’t think so,” Jake finally said. “I’m going to go and talk to Barney. Maybe he knows something.” Hurrying off toward the cookhouse, he heard the three men exchanging ideas about what might have happened to Goldie. None of their theories seemed feasible to Jake, and he closed his ears to them.
Entering the cookhouse kitchen, he got right to the point. “Barney, did you happen to hear anything unusual this morning?”
“Unusual? Like what, Jake?”
“Goldie’s not in her corral. Did any of the men come back and maybe move her? Not that anyone should’ve moved her, but something happened to her.”
Barney shook his head. “No one came back that I know of, Jake, and I didn’t hear anything unusual. Course, I had been playing my radio, you know.”
“Okay, thanks.” Jake started to leave.
“Oh, wait a minute, Jake. Carly Paxton dropped in and chatted a few minutes. Real nice lady, she is, real nice. Just like her pa. Anyway, she asked me if I knew the name of the palomino horse in the corral. I told her, of course.”
Jake felt such a strong sinking sensation that his knees got weak. “Did she say anything about taking Goldie for a ride?”
“Nope, not a thing. Jake…Jake? What about some lunch?” Barney called as Jake ran out.
“We’ll eat later,” Jake yelled over his shoulder. He ran all the way to the house, hit the back door hard and then ran through the rooms like a whirlwind, shouting Carly’s name. When it was obvious she wasn’t on the first floor, he took the stairs to the second floor two and three at a time, rushed down the hall and unceremoniously pushed open her bedroom door.
“Damn you!” he yelled when he saw nothing but a vacant bedroom. If that woman didn’t prove to be the death of him this summer, it would be a miracle!
Retracing his steps at high speed, he ran back outside to the three men, who were still discussing Goldie’s mysterious disappearance. When they saw Jake’s dark and forbidding expression, they fell silent.
“I want the three of you to go and find the other men. Then all of you are to spread out and look for Carly Paxton and Goldie. I’m positive Carly took Goldie for a ride.”
“Hell’s bells,” one of the men muttered. “Don’t she know Goldie’s in heat? If that stallion gets wind of Goldie, no telling what might happen.”
Jake’s expression became even darker. “Let’s get going,” he said gruffly, climbing onto his own horse. He had no idea in which direction to even start looking for Carly and Goldie, but he couldn’t just stand around and worry.
On horseback, the four men tore out of the compound.
Goldie behaves like a lady, Carly thought, extremely pleased with herself over having thought of taking this marvelous ride. The open fields, bright from sunlight, were lovely with wildflowers and birds flying this way and that. The grazing cattle paid her no mind, and Carly felt a wonderful sense of serenity that had been missing from her life for too long a time.
Her dad had been very wise to suggest she come here, she thought with a feeling of love for Stuart Paxton. As she rode, Carly vowed once more to never worry him again and couldn’t help recalling that he had warned her against marrying Burke Stenson. The Stenson family was as financially well-off as the Paxtons, but Burke’s personal reputation had concerned Stuart.
“He’s a gambler, Carly. Please don’t think you can change him,” Stuart had said.
But she’d been madly in love and hadn’t heeded a word said to her about Burke. It was the only time in her life that she had openly defied her father, and she had lived to regret it. Burke hadn’t just been a gambler. In fact, that had been his good side, and she probably could have lived with it. But Burke had also been emotionally and physically abusive, and she had not been able to live with black eyes, a bruised body and a shattered heart for long. Her marriage had lasted three years, and looking back at the misery of it she wondered why she’d stayed that long.
Carly pushed that phase of her life from her mind because she hated thinking about it. Besides, if she was going to attempt some serious thinking, it should be about what she intended to do when she returned to New York. Before her marriage she had worked in advertising, and it was a career she could go back to, she knew. She just hadn’t found her way yet, but she would.
But she didn’t want to be serious today, not about anything, and she rode through grassy fields, moving farther and farther away from the compound, thinking scattered thoughts and even doing some humming, simply because it was a fabulous day and she felt so carefree on that beautiful mare’s back.
