Espino, Stacey - Midlife Ménage [Ride 'em Hard 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“Thanks for your help,” she said, slightly breathless. The woman looked gorgeous in her natural, dishevelled state. Her hair had slipped from its fastening, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips swollen.

“I’d much rather round up cattle on horseback any day of the week,” he joked. Jackson twisted to his side, tilting his Stetson back to get a better look at the beauty sitting beside him.

“It shouldn’t happen again. I’ve secured the pen good and proper this time.”

“If it meant chasing them with you, I wouldn’t mind.” He studied her reactions, the way she swallowed hard, her body tensing. She clearly wasn’t used to men or compliments. How long did she plan to play a married woman to a dead man?

She chuckled, dismissing his comment. “I expect you’re pretty popular with the young girls.”

“I ain’t interested in girls. What I need is a woman.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I was talking to Kylie the other night.” He waited to see if she’d clue in without needing to say he knew her secret outright.

“Oh?”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, darlin’. I’d never steal from you, never try to hurt you. Not all men are bad.”

She fidgeted with her hair, pulling it around to one side of her neck and twirling in into a rope. “I’m not scared of you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“I have a high respect for single mothers. My own mother raised me alone for a large portion of my life, and I know it ain’t easy. What you’ve done should be commended.”

Recognition widened her eyes for a moment. “Kylie had no right to be saying anything to you.” She started to stand up, brushing off her jeans with both hands. “Lying isn’t something I do regular, but a woman can never be too safe living alone in these parts. I have children to think about.”

“I’m not judging you.” He rose up, not wanting to separate on a bad note. “And your children look grown to me.” Jackson followed her as she walked away from him. When they reached the barn, he spun her around, trapping her between his arms against the wooden boards.

“What are you—”

“You wouldn’t have to be afraid if you had a man to look after you.” He leaned over, breathing in against her neckline. She was the essence of a woman, equal parts of strength and fragility.

She planted her palms on his chest, testing the muscles briefly before pushing him away. “Please mind your manners. I advertised for a boarder, not a husband.”

He let her go now, but there was no way she could deny the chemistry between them. If only she’d take the leap, take a gamble on a new relationship.

Chapter Three

It had been three weeks since Wade saw Wendy at the feedstore. She’d dismissed him as usual, but he knew there was more to the woman than met the eye. The rain she’d spoken of had never come. Horror stories ran rampant through the gossip lines. Farmers losing whole crops, going bankrupt, deserting their land. There was even talk of a cowboy committing suicide. Every new bit of news he’d hear made him think of Wendy McCay and her wheat farm. She didn’t have the same technology he had, and ran the whole operation herself. It was unreal the things that woman could do. But she was too hotheaded to accept help, and still living in the past, refusing to really live her life.

Wade supposed he was more a fool than her. He’d held off from getting into serious relationships, waiting for the day Wendy couldn’t hold out any longer. They’d had some fun times in the past during corn roasts and holiday events, but she’d only get so close to him before raising her shields. He could admit to himself he’d fallen in love with her years ago, but nothing he did was ever enough for her.

By lunch hour the sun was merciless. Just stepping outside of his air-conditioned ranch was like walking into a solid wall of dry heat. He donned his Stetson and drove out to the McCay ranch to check up on his neighbor. She’d skin him for not minding his own business, or concerning himself with a so-called married woman. Wendy was just as lonely as him, a widow stuck in a time warp. Wade had heartache in his past, too, but together they could make a future for themselves. If only she’d open her eyes to the possibilities.

Her truck was in front of the house, so he knew she’d be home. He parked to the side of the barn, and then knocked on the front door, getting no answer. A farmer would be crazy to work his fields at this hour, on a day like today, so he checked the barn and outbuildings. Her tractors were in the equipment barn. Where was she?

“Wendy?” he called out. Maybe she was with the livestock or hanging laundry around back. Sometimes he’d see her riding out into the fields alone, just wandering aimlessly. Wade walked around the side of the house to the rear yard, finding it abandoned like the rest of the property. “Wendy?”

He was about to leave, guessing someone had picked her up and drove her into town for errands, but then his peripheral vision caught some movement. There was a figure way off in the apple orchard. He mopped his brow with a cloth from his front pocket, and then walked across the crisp, burnt grass.

When he reached the young trees, he noticed how parched the land was, the soil eroding from the dry spell. He weaved his way through the trees until he found her. Wendy was wearing a white tank top, transparent from sweat. She had on jean shorts with cowboy boots, her hair up in a messy ponytail. He’d never seen a woman so beautiful, yet worn at the same time. Her face was red, eyes heavy, and body close to collapsing. The fool was carting buckets of water from the well. He could see the drip trail from where she’d just come from, and the well was a good two-minute walk one way.

She poured the contents of the large bucket over the roots of one tree, the soil barely darkening and too dry to absorb the water.

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” He snatched the bucket from her and tossed it. Her eyes followed the metal container as it rolled away. “Answer me, damn it.”

“They’ll die if they don’t get water. I can’t lose my orchard,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, her lips dry and peeling.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Since sunup, I suppose.” She tried to push by him to get to the bucket, nearly falling over she was so shaky on her feet. Wade wanted to make things better for her, take care of her, if only she’d allow it. There was no way she could save her trees by continuing to water them by the bucketful. No sooner than she’d dump the water, the heat would evaporate it.

“Stop this nonsense. You can’t make a difference with a few buckets of water, Wendy.”

“Watch me. This is my land, and I won’t watch it burn to hell.”

He stood back as she staggered down her dusty path toward the well, dragging her boots as she shuffled along. All these years he’d given her the upper hand, kept his manners, but this was too much. Just when he’d decided to put an end to the spectacle, to demand she stop her foolish efforts, she fell forward onto the earth. He raced over, dropping to his knees, and rolled her to her back. Her eyes were closed, her parched lips unable to close.

“Your stubbornness will be the death of you, woman.” He scooped her up into the cradle of his arms and carried her back to his truck.

* * * *

Every muscle in her body screamed out in protest when she moved. She shifted on the bed, too tired to open her eyes. Then she began to remember bits and pieces that didn’t make sense. She sat up in a rush, feeling a sudden raw terror. Her orchard! She had to save the orchard!

“Ah, ah, ah. Lie back down, darlin’.” Wade’s familiar baritone anchored her. He lowered her back to the pillow on the sofa.

“The orchard,” she said, her throat scratching when she spoke. Wendy brought a hand to her neck and attempted to swallow, but was unable to.

“Here you go. Take a sip, but not too much.” He held a straw to her lips and she gladly took the cool water into her body. She could feel it travel down her throat, all the way to her stomach.

Once her mouth was moisturized, she tried again to speak. “My orchard…”

“Don’t worry about that now. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, we’d be planning a funeral for you.” She briefly glanced around the room. There were open rafters on the ceiling and a grand wood-burning fireplace in one corner. The house had a cozy, country feel.

“Where am I?”

“My ranch. It’s the only place I could take proper care of you. You needed to cool off.” When she ran her tongue over her lips, she realized he must have put petroleum jelly on them. Her boots were off, but her clothes were still in place. When she took a breath, she noticed how fresh and cool it was compared to outside.

“I need to get back and water those trees before they die. I won’t let two years of hard work turn to firewood.”

“For nearly fifteen years I kept my distance out of respect. But there’s no way I’m letting you leave this house today.” His eyes were determined when he spoke. He was going to kidnap her? Force her to be idle while she could be productive, saving her orchard? “I’ve never seen a woman as stubborn as you. It boggles my mind.”

She sat up and attempted to stand. Maybe Wade was partially right. She could barely support her weight she was so weak and dehydrated. “Where’re my boots at?”

When she looked up, one hand bracing the arm of the sofa for support, he was shaking his head. For the first time he wasn’t the sexy, forbidding rancher next door that she easily put in his place with a few sharp words. He was all dominance, unmovable, and part of her liked this new side to him. With him she wasn’t the mother, the middle-aged widow. She was young, desirable, the center of his world.

She wasn’t prepared for him to toss her over his shoulder. He was strong as an ox, his gait not affected by having a hundred and twenty pounds pressing down on him. “Put me down!”

“I will, but not yet.” He easily bounded up the wooden staircase at the back of the split-level to the second story. They entered an obscenely large bathroom with a Jacuzzi-size tub—so much more extravagant than her water closet and stand-up shower back home. He kicked the door shut and then stood her on the cool tiled floor.

“I’m leaving,” she said stubbornly, pushing at his chest to get to the door behind him. He growled his irritation, hoisted her up, and then plunged her into a bath full of cool water, clothes and all. She gasped, her arms flailing from the shock of everything.

“There’re towels on the counter and a dry housecoat to change into. I’ll be downstairs when you’re through, with a good meal waiting.” He didn’t even wait for a response before leaving the room.

She wanted to be angry, to scream and curse, but she was too much in shock. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d hardened into a stone-cold bitch over the years. This was exactly the wake-up call she needed. Where would her daughters be if they came home and found her near death in the orchard? But desperation caused her to do foolish things, and even now she was tempted to steal off to her farm and tend her young trees. She had to face the bitter reality that she’d probably lose her orchard, and her wheat soon enough.

After bathing, drying, and wrapping herself in the terrycloth robe, she stood in front of the mirror and really looked at herself. She was no longer a young woman. Where had the years gone? Her skin wasn’t tight and youthful, but aging with fine lines and blemishes. Her hair was limp when it used to be full and envied by other women. Even if she wanted to move on and start life over, it was too late for her. The time for dreams was past. It was her children’s moment to fall in love, start rewarding careers, and enjoy the fruits of their labor. Wendy’s only place was in the shadows.

She quietly padded out of the bathroom and across the cool hardwood floors. All these years and she’d never been inside the Laweson Ranch. Wendy knew Wade wasn’t married, but didn’t really know too much about his personal life. She’d been so busy avoiding him, hiding from her real emotion, that she’d blocked out Wade and most of the world beyond her property line.

As she crept down the stairs, she scanned the area, trying to catch a glimpse of him before he did her. It felt odd to be able to take deep breaths of cool air in the middle of a heat wave. Not even the feedstore had air-conditioning, just the usual box fans. It shouldn’t be a surprise because she knew Wade had a successful business. He could afford luxuries, and he’d offered to help her on countless occasions. She was just too damn proud. Since her husband’s death she’d taken care of the ranch, bills, and cared for four children without handouts or help from anyone. To accept assistance now felt like giving up, like all those years of suffering were for nothing.

“Feel better?”

She gripped the handrail of the stairs, not expecting a voice from behind her in the hallway. “The heat must have gotten to me.” There was only a robe separating Wade and her complete nudity. For some reason it excited her, made her feel like a real woman. Feelings she’d stifled for what felt like a lifetime came rushing back, making her skin tingle. Her long-dormant body was coming to life. Why now?