CHAPTER FIVE

It took a lot to rattle Lauren, but Wade had managed to completely disconcert her the night before. As she sat on the porch sipping her morning coffee, she considered the entire encounter at Stella’s. She wasn’t sure which had shaken her more, her physical response to him or the discovery that he had a stake in the ranch’s horses.

Since the latter was far less threatening to her personal equilibrium, she decided to deal with that first. Why had she been so surprised? Was it merely because Grady hadn’t mentioned it? Or was it because she’d dismissed Wade as being nothing more than a ranch employee who served at Grady’s discretion? Was she a snob—the spoiled brat that Wade had accused her of being?

No, she assured herself, that couldn’t be. She had always gotten along with everyone, respected them for the work they did, whatever it was.

As a child, she had known intuitively that the wrangler working for her father was as important as the foreman or, in terms of his workload, even as necessary as her father himself.

In Hollywood, she had accepted from the first that everyone on the set made a contribution, from the gofers right on up through the director and executive producer. She’d excluded no one when she threw a party, and on the set she’d been friendly with everyone. In fact, some of the people she’d been closest to had worked behind the scenes in the least lofty, and often least appreciated, positions.

Of course, she had learned one bitter lesson during that time. While she had viewed everyone as equally important and worthwhile, her ex-husbands had sought her out specifically because of what they viewed as her exalted position on the Hollywood scene and how that might help them climb the film world’s social and career ladders.

She sighed and went back to Wade. Her reaction to him had been based on his attitude, not on his position, she concluded after considering the situation from all angles. She was relieved by the assessment, if only because it meant she didn’t owe him an immediate apology.

As for the other matter, the way she’d responded to that glancing kiss he’d brushed across her knuckles, to his thigh snugly fitted against her own, to the burning intensity of his gaze…well, that was a whole other kettle of fish. Her reaction to that had been out of all proportion to the importance of the incidents. Heck, she’d been kissed with mind-numbing intensity on screen and it hadn’t meant anything at all. This didn’t, either.

Of course, those on-screen kisses hadn’t stirred so much as a whisper of arousal, while the merest touch of Wade’s lips had sent her blood pressure into the stratosphere. What was that all about?

Loneliness, she concluded. That’s all it was. The absence of a meaningful relationship in her life. The absence of sex, while all around her the other Calamity Janes were falling madly, passionately in love with the men of their dreams.

She had spent the last year watching her best friends succumb one by one—first Cassie, then Karen, Gina and Emma. Karen had dragged her heels the longest, because she’d only been widowed a few months when Grady had come into her life, but even so, Lauren had sat by and watched her friend slowly but surely come alive again under Grady’s tender attention.

Sitting on the sidelines with all that going on was enough to make a less self-confident woman feel utterly unattractive and undesirable. Lauren knew better—in her head, anyway. She was deliberately putting out “stay away” vibes. Wade had been the first man in a long time to flat-out ignore them, maybe even to consider them a challenge.

And he’d just been playing games with her. She knew that, too. He’d wanted to get to her to make a point. Trying to figure out exactly what that point was had kept her up half the night. She had a funny feeling it had been a warning, not just a balm to his own inflated ego.

“You going to lounge around out here all day, or do you intend to grace us with your presence down at the corral?” Wade inquired, coming up on her from behind yet again.

Lauren frowned at him. “I wish you’d stop sneaking up on me.”

“Hey,” he said, looking wounded. “I knocked on the kitchen door. When nobody answered, I came inside and shouted. Then I spotted you out here and came on out. I don’t think that qualifies as sneaking.”

“Whatever,” she said, refusing to get drawn into an argument as ridiculous as this one was turning out to be.

“So how about it? You working today?”

“As soon as I finish my coffee,” she said, stubbornly staying right where she was. “I can only spend an hour or so with Midnight, anyway.”

Wade nodded. “True, but I have another horse you might want to take a look at. If you’re interested.”

Feeling more eager than she wanted to be, Lauren forced a casual note into her voice. “What’s the problem?”

“I wish to heck I knew,” Wade admitted with evident frustration. “I bought her at a sale in Cheyenne a couple of months back. She seemed to be doing fine, but ever since we got here, she’s been off her feed. The vet can’t find anything wrong.”

“Then she’s your horse, not Grady’s?”

“Yes. Is that a problem? I’ll pay whatever fee you set if you think you can help her.”

Lauren frowned at that. “It’s not about the money. I just like to know who I’m answering to.” She stood up. “Let’s go take a look at her. But first I’ve got to stop in the kitchen and pick up some treats for Midnight.”

“If you bring a carrot for Miss Molly, you’ll make her day. That’s the only thing she shows any interest in at all.”

She regarded him with amusement. “Miss Molly?”

“My mom was a big fan of the golden oldies.”

She stared at him blankly.

“‘Good Golly, Miss Molly.’ Little Richard.”

To her amazement, he sang a few bars in a low voice that seemed to linger over the part about how good she looked to him. His gaze never left her face.

“I remember,” she said, her voice a little choked. He was doing it again—charming her, tying her up in knots.

In the kitchen, she hurriedly sliced a couple of carrots into chunks, then followed Wade out the door.

“Should I count this as a sign of respect that you’re letting me near your horse?” she asked as they reached the barn.

“You wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near Midnight a second time if I hadn’t seen for myself that you know your way around horses,” he claimed.

“I thought Grady ordered you to give me a chance.”

“He did, but I would have fought him tooth and nail if I’d thought there was any risk involved to the horses. As it was, I was more worried about the risk to you. There’s a point when being intrepid and confident turns dangerous.”

His words made her heart flutter. She’d had directors blithely ask her to dangle from the side of a mountain with little concern for her safety. Here was a man she barely knew who’d been truly worried about her getting hurt even when he hadn’t much liked her.

“Thank you…I think.”

“No problem,” he said, shrugging off the thanks. “Miss Molly’s still in her stall. She won’t leave it unless I force her.”

Lauren took the hint and fell into step beside him as he approached the pretty little bay filly. She was a beauty, all right. Perfectly proportioned for her size, she had a coat that gleamed in the weak rays of sun filtering through the window behind her.

“She’s beautiful,” Lauren said, then inched closer to the stall. “Aren’t you, girl?”

The horse showed little interest in her or in Wade. She just stood there silently, head hanging. Even when Lauren extended a chunk of carrot on the palm of her hand, Miss Molly barely lifted her head to examine it. Finally, with little enthusiasm, the horse took the carrot, chewed slowly, then turned her back on both of them to poke her head through the open window and gaze at the pasture beyond.

“What can you tell me about her?” Lauren asked Wade.

“Like I said, I bought her at a sale in Cheyenne. She was a spirited little thing, and she was training well. Then we came here and…” He shrugged. “You can see how she is.”

“Where were you before? What was it like?”

“It was another ranch. The barn wasn’t half as nice as this one.”

“A lot of other horses?”

“No more than here.” He regarded her curiously. “What are you thinking?”

Lauren hesitated to say. She was no expert in animal behavior. What she knew came from instinct and experience—but Wade was actually regarding her with genuine attention, awaiting her verdict.

“Okay,” she said finally. “This may sound crazy, but could she be homesick?”

A bark of laughter erupted before he could contain himself. “Homesick? She’s a horse, not a college freshman. Besides, she wasn’t in that barn all that long. How could she have gotten that attached to anything?”

Lauren reacted defensively to the instantaneous derision in his voice. “It was just a thought. Ignore it, if you think it’s stupid.” She whirled around and left the barn.

She was outside at the railing watching Midnight in the distance when Wade finally joined her.

“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.

“For?”

“I asked for your opinion. I had no right to make fun of it when you gave it.”

“True,” she agreed.

“So, let’s say you could be right about this. What the hell do I do? Move back to the other ranch?”

“That seems a little extreme,” she said, grinning at the frustration in his voice. “Let me think about it. Maybe I can come up with something less drastic.”

“I hope so,” he said, giving her another of those thoroughly disconcerting looks. “I’m just starting to like the scenery around here.”

* * *

After several days Wade was forced to face the fact that he’d misjudged Lauren when he’d assumed she was nothing more than some pampered rich girl who was visiting the ranch on a lark. She had a head on her shoulders and a real knack with horses—all horses. She was like some kind of pied piper with them. Although she hadn’t solved Miss Molly’s problem yet, she was doing well with Midnight. He came to her almost eagerly now, which Wade could readily understand. The horse was male, wasn’t he? And Lauren was every inch a female.

He was even more impressed by the way she pitched in and did chores in the barn without being asked. Did them like a woman who was familiar with them, too. She didn’t seem to care how messy the chore was. She never complained about the heat, or the broken fingernails, or the straw that tangled in her hair.

At the end of the first week they’d spent working together, she stood before him, hands on hips, jeans filthy, her blouse damp, her cheeks flushed. “Anything else?” she asked.

Because he couldn’t resist, because he was a fool, he murmured, “Only this,” and claimed her mouth in a kiss that raised the temperature in the barn to a dangerous level. With all that flammable material around, it was a wonder the whole place didn’t go up in flames.

Big mistake, he told himself the minute he managed to force himself to release her. Once a man had crossed that kind of line and discovered that the temptation was every bit as spectacular as it had promised to be, he was pretty much doomed to repeat it.

“What was that for?” Lauren asked eventually.

She was regarding him with a dazed expression that made him want to kiss her all over again. “I wish I knew,” he muttered and walked off before she could start analyzing the kiss to death.

He worked himself to the point of exhaustion for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, nothing he did drove out the memory of his lips on hers, of the softness of her curves pressed against him.

“Fool,” he muttered to himself a thousand times. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d annoyed the daylights out of him—now he’d arranged it that she was going to plague him all the livelong night. A man who’d been celibate for as long as he had had no business kissing any female he didn’t intend to take straight to bed.

As the night wore on, Wade’s regrets grew. The taste of her was still with him. So was the heat, the restless yearning. He paced from one end of his three-room house to the other, then moved to the porch. When rocking proved no more relaxing, he headed for the main house, determined to catch a glimpse of her. Maybe a five-minute confrontation, the exchange of a few heated words would remind him of just why he’d had no business kissing Lauren in the first place. Since they rarely exchanged more than five civil words in a row, he figured the odds of a good verbal tussle were in his favor.

He found Lauren sitting on the front steps, wearing jeans and a tank top which should have been outlawed for a body like hers. How was a man supposed to think around a woman dressed like that? How was he supposed to start a halfway decent fight, when the urge to drag her right back into his arms was so powerful it took everything in him to resist it?

“Grady’s inside,” she said when she saw him.

“I didn’t come to see Grady.”

“Oh?”

Wade shoved his hands in his pockets and stood a careful distance away. “About this morning…”

The moonlight caught her face just right, and he was pretty sure he saw the beginning of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yes?”

“I had no right to do what I did.”

“You mean kissing me?”

“Of course I mean kissing you,” he snapped. Did he have to spell everything out for her? “What else would I be apologizing for?”

There was no mistaking her grin now. “Is that what you were doing? Apologizing?”

“Yes, dammit.”

“Must be a new experience,” she said, laughter threading through her voice.

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re not very good at it.”

When he would have whirled around and stalked away, she added, “That’s okay. No apology necessary. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” he said fervently. If today was any example of the aftermath, he was going to give her such a wide berth that they’d never even cross paths again. He’d leave notes telling her what he expected of her as far as the horses were concerned, then hightail it to some other part of the ranch. He could carve out some decent distance to keep between them if he put his mind to it.

“Want some iced tea?” she asked, cutting into his thoughts.

He stared at her. “What?”

This time she did laugh out loud. “It wasn’t a trick question. It’s a hot night. I asked if you wanted some iced tea—I brought a pitcher out with me. I can run in and get an extra glass.”

Wade considered the friendly gesture. What could be the harm, especially now that he’d laid all his cards on the table? She knew there weren’t going to be any more kisses. They both knew it. And he had a plan to stay out of her path from here on out. In the meantime, there was no reason not to stay for a few minutes of polite sociability.

“Sure,” he said finally. “But I’ll get the glass. I know where they are.” Besides, the walk inside would give him a few minutes to cool off and shake the temptation to kiss her again. He figured it would set a very bad precedent if he kissed her not five minutes after swearing that he would never do it again.

She shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned her gaze to the night sky as if what he did were of no consequence at all.

For some reason that annoyed Wade just as much as everything else Lauren did. He stalked past her, went into the kitchen and retrieved a glass. He was on his way back to the porch when Grady caught him in the front hall.

“You need something, Wade?”

“Just getting a glass,” he said, relieved that the overhead light was off so his boss wouldn’t see the color that was no doubt flaming in his cheeks.

“None down at your place?” Grady inquired, laughter threading through his voice.

Wade found himself clenching his teeth. “Actually, Lauren asked me to join her for a glass of iced tea.”

“You two getting along better, then?”

“It’s a constant test of our natural instinct to butt heads, but we’re trying.”

Grady nodded. “That’s good. Well, you two enjoy yourselves.”

He sounded too much like a father anxious to see his daughter settled down. Hearing that tone in his voice made Wade’s skin crawl. “You could come on out and join us,” he said, suddenly desperate for a buffer.

“Not me. I have plans, and they don’t include the likes of you. Karen’s upstairs.”

How could he have forgotten that? It seemed as if sex was in the air tonight and there was no escaping it. “Yeah, right,” Wade mumbled. “Well, see you tomorrow.”

“Crack of dawn,” Grady said. “We’ve got to move the herd to the west pasture.”

Wade had completely forgotten that he’d offered to help out with that. “What about Lauren?”

“What about her?” Grady asked.

“Maybe I’d better tell her to spend the day shopping or something,” Wade suggested.

What might have started out as a laugh suddenly turned into a cough. “Why don’t you do that?” Grady said. “I think I’ll come out after all and watch.”

Wade sighed. “You don’t think she’ll go for it, do you?”

“I think she’ll cut you up in little pieces and spit you out if you even suggest such a thing,” Grady said cheerfully.

“It was just an idea. I don’t want her around Midnight without someone to keep an eye on things.”

“Then tell her what your concerns are and let her decide.”

“Her?” Wade asked. “Lauren’s impulsive and stubborn. She’ll spend the whole blasted day with the horse just to spite me.”

“Then it’ll be her choice,” Grady said.

Wade felt his stomach turn over. “And if we come back and find her lying in the dirt with a couple of cracked ribs or worse, will that be her choice, too?”

Grady’s expression sobered. “You’re really worried, aren’t you? Aren’t things going as well as I’d hoped they would?”

“Up to a point,” Wade said cautiously. “But she’s the kind of woman who’ll push the limits, and you know it.”

“Talk to her,” Grady said again. “Lauren’s a lot smarter than you’re giving her credit for being. She’s not going to do anything foolish unless you goad her into it.”

Wade scowled at having the responsibility for Lauren’s actions placed squarely on his shoulders once again. “I’ll talk to her,” he said grimly. “Not that I think it’ll do any good.”

He walked outside and let the screen door slam behind him, so he couldn’t be accused of sneaking up on her again.

“Nice to know you have such a favorable impression of my common sense,” Lauren said mildly.

Wade groaned. After her protests about how he was always sneaking around, it had never occurred to him that she could hear every word he and Grady had exchanged inside the house.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Are you really?” she asked. “Or are you just sorry you got caught?”

“Mostly the latter,” he said with candor. “I try never to insult a woman to her face.”

“Just behind her back?”

“If we’re going to get into a sparring match over this, can I have some of that tea?” he asked.

Lauren nodded toward the table. “There’s the pitcher. Help yourself.”

Despite himself, he bit back a grin. He should have known she wasn’t going to demean herself by waiting on him. He poured the tea, took a long swallow and tried to find some way to get his foot out of his mouth.

“Since you heard everything we said, I don’t suppose there’s any chance at all that you’ll consider going over to Winding River tomorrow and spending the day shopping?” he asked hopefully.

She beamed at him. “Nope. Consistency is important when you’re working with a horse. I need to stay right here.”

Because she was right, he didn’t have a good argument for that. “Will you at least promise to stay out of the corral, to keep the fence between you and Midnight?”

“Midnight is not going to hurt me.”

Wade’s frustration mounted. “Dammit, you don’t know that. He was as good as wild a few weeks ago.”

“And he’s trusting me more and more every day. You’ve seen it yourself.”

“I just don’t want you getting overconfident and taking risks, especially with nobody else around,” Wade insisted.

Her gaze met his and lingered. He saw the precise moment when curiosity was replaced by surprise. Her expression softened.

“This isn’t some macho edict, is it?” she asked, studying him. “You’re really worried about me.”

“I’m just not sure Grady and Karen have enough insurance to pay for patching your head back together,” he insisted, refusing to admit that he cared the least little bit on his own behalf.

She reached for his hand. “No, you’re worried about me, aren’t you, Wade? Admit it.”

He frowned at her persistence, but he wasn’t going to lie. “Okay, fine. Yes, I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

Now that, he thought, was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “Because anything that has to do with the horses around here is my responsibility,” he said finally.

“So, this is purely a selfish concern on your part,” she said, her gaze still clashing with his, daring him to deny it.

“Yes,” he insisted.

“Bull,” she said softly. “But I’ll let it pass this time.”

She stood up, and the movement was enough to send the scent of her perfume wafting toward him. She put her hand on his cheek, then slowly withdrew it. “Thanks for caring.”

She was gone before he could think of a satisfactory comeback.

* * *

“How did you and Wade make out last night?” Grady inquired as he bolted down his breakfast at dawn the next morning.

Karen’s gaze shot toward Lauren. “You were with Wade last night?”

“He stopped by,” Lauren said tightly. “We talked for a while, though he and Grady actually had a much more fascinating conversation in the foyer.”

Dull red climbed into Grady’s cheeks. “Damn!”

Lauren grinned at him. “It’s nice that you took my side. And actually it’s rather sweet that Wade’s so worried about me, even if it is annoying that he doesn’t trust me to have a grain of sense in my head.”

Karen listened, looking spellbound by the entire exchange. “My, my. Wade’s sweet and annoying, all in one breath. Where was I when all this was going on?”

“Tucked into bed waiting for your husband,” Lauren said. “See what happens when you have a one-track mind? You miss all the fun stuff that goes on around here.”

Karen’s gaze flew to meet her husband’s, and her cheeks flushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Lauren groaned. “I’m going to the barn. If the horses have the hots for each other, at least I don’t have to hear about it.”

“But I want to hear every last detail about you and Wade,” Karen called after her. “I won’t forget about this.”

Lauren sighed. “Yes, I know. It’s one of those sad truths I’ve come to accept. You’re the worst meddler in our crowd, and I have the misfortune to be living right under your nose.”

“You could move in with Wade,” Grady suggested, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.

“What have I done to myself?” Lauren asked with a resigned sigh. “You’re as bad as she is.”

“Actually, we’re a helluva team,” Karen said. “Face it, sweetie, you’re doomed.”

“I refuse to accept that,” Lauren said adamantly.

Karen grinned. “I know. That’s why this is so much fun.”