Like Lightning (2 page)

Maddie glanced around. “Yes. It's about all I found.” When she turned to him again, she'd wondered if he'd purposely sought her out. “What are you doing here? Do you want me for something?”

Trey pursed his lips, disguising a devil-made grin. Hell, he'd never seen anything like it. Maddie Brooks, traipsing through these ruins, tearstains running a path down her cheeks and smudged with white ash with her red-gold hair a tangle around her face. She'd looked like a lost child—a vulnerable one at that, but he'd yet to find anyone prettier, or more appealing.

Did he want her for something?

A loaded question and one Trey would never answer.

“I was heading to town to buy feed for the horses, when I realized I hadn't given you the key to the house. But first,” Trey said, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her around so that her back was to him. He lifted her hair and slipped the necklace around her neck, letting the loose chain slide down her throat to fall into the soft valley between her breasts. He breathed in, a sharp intake of oxygen that left no room for doubt where his mind had drifted. The subtle scent of raspberries, sweet and pungent wafted up as her hair fell back into place. “There,” he said and stepped away.

Maddie turned around, removing her gloves so she
could finger the charm. Joy lit her eyes, but she guarded her delight carefully, as if she were afraid to indulge in happiness for too long. Trey understood that, better than she might guess.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile.

He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on her face and not on the deep inviting cleavage that framed the necklace. He slipped a hand into his pocket, coming up with a key ring. He removed one and handed it to her. “Here you go. Come and go as you please on the ranch. I won't wait up.”

“Oh, I won't be going out much, unless I have to make a late-night house call.”

He nodded again, not happy with the notion of Maddie Brooks underfoot every night. “Sometimes, I get in late,” he admitted, “but if you need anything when I'm not around, you know Kit, my foreman?”

“Yes, we've met. But I'm sure I'll be fine.”

“Okay then. I'd better get that grain before the store closes.”

She lifted the key to the ranch house. “Thanks again. I guess I'll get my things from the Cactus Inn now.”

Trey reached into his back pocket and presented her with his red bandanna. “For your face.”

“Oh.” Color rose from under her smudge marks, brightening her face to a rosy hue. “Is it that bad?”

“Doesn't bother me a bit. But I figured you'd want to clean up before heading to the motel.”

She began swiping her face for all she was worth. “Thanks. I must look like he…heck.”

Trey turned his back on Maddie, released a reluctant sigh and headed for his truck, mumbling, “
Heck
never looked so danged cute.”

Trey got into his truck, gunned the engine and took off, his wheels spitting up a cloud of dry Texas dust. He'd come into town to help Maddie move her things from the motel. It hadn't set right that she'd refused his offer. What kind of man would allow a woman, who was down on her luck, alone in the world, and who had lost most of her possessions, to face that task alone?

But one look at her today, standing there in the midst of her one-time home, and something powerful stabbed at him. It wasn't like anything he'd felt before, this protective, warm feeling he had for her. Trey didn't like it, not one bit. If he wasn't careful, he'd be under her spell, he'd have her under his sheets and then disaster would strike.

Maddie would come out the loser.

And Trey figured the woman had enough troubles. He didn't want to add to them. As much as he wanted to help her, going to the motel wouldn't have been wise. Trey shook his head. Spending time with Maddie Brooks would just be dang foolish. He'd have to nip this problem in the bud, before anything dared to blossom.

Tonight, he'd lay things out straight with Maddie.

But in truth, he'd be more comfortable wrestling half a dozen big, hungry grizzly bears.

 

Maddie had always wanted to see the inside of Trey's house at 2 Hope. The long sprawling adobe and mason ranch house, with true column pillars spoke of elegance and grace. Although weathered, beaten down from time and perhaps a bit of neglect, the house commanded certain respect.

Her heart squeezed tight as she entered the one-story structure, as undisguised warmth seemed to invite her
in. She stood in the entry, gazing at a massive stone fireplace, complete with a heavy beamed mantel and a wide accommodating hearth. The only thing missing from this picture was the moose head above the fireplace. Instinct told her Trey wouldn't approve or indulge in the hunting of innocent animals, thank goodness.

A slightly worn, completely comfortable-looking leather sofa graced the wall facing the fireplace, and antique pieces from days gone by surrounded the room. Maddie couldn't help feel like an invader, intruding on Trey's privacy, the total masculine feel of the room alluding to Trey's lone-wolf demeanor. It was apparent that a woman had no place here. There were no lace curtains or hand-sewn pillows, nothing feminine at all, yet the house had a welcoming, solid, lived-in feel. A house built for and made for a man.

Maddie was certain Trey didn't want her here.

And she certainly didn't want to be here.

But she'd had no other option. She had responsibilities, clients who depended on her to keep their animals healthy. There was no one else in Hope Wells to look after the animals of the twenty-odd ranches in the county. And just the other day, she'd had to neuter Randolph Curry's rambunctious Irish setter, before the neighbors shot the dang dog for lewd acts of conduct on the main streets in town. Then there was young Bessie Mallery's cat Lucky, who'd surprised everyone with a litter of seven. Maddie had had to untangle that feline's umbilical cord before three of the kittens strangled themselves, getting all twisted up in the cord. Fortunately Lucky's name had held true, and she hadn't lost any of her offspring, much to Bessie's delight.

With a nod, Maddie concluded if she were to keep
her practice going, she would have to accept Trey's hospitality. But she'd made a solemn vow to stick to her business and stay out of his way, until the time came when she could rebuild her own office in town.

“All settled in,” Trey said, coming to stand before her. “I put everything inside your room. Down the hall, third door on the left.”

“Thank you,” Maddie offered. When she'd pulled up just minutes ago with her oddball assortment of clothes, medical books, some veterinary equipment—the smaller tools of her trade she'd been able to salvage—Trey had been waiting on his front porch. He wouldn't allow her to lift a thing from the bed of her truck. He'd just reached in and grabbed everything, loading up his arms and telling her to make herself comfortable inside the house. “The house is nice, looks like it's been lived in some. I'll bet there's a batch of stories hidden in these old walls.”

Maddie bit her lip and glanced away. She'd never been one to babble, but then she'd never felt this darn awkward before.

Trey grinned. “This house goes way back. It was one of the first ones built in Hope Wells back in the day when there was free range. I know a few stories, but they aren't fit for telling in polite company.”

Maddie sighed, wondering what wonderfully sinful things had happened at 2 Hope years ago. “I'd love to hear them sometime.”

Trey looked her over, and began shaking his head. With a dubious expression plastered on his face, he flat out refused. “No way, Maddie. You don't want to hear any of
those
stories.”

Maddie fumed silently. She'd never shed her wholesome, good-girl image. The one time she'd tried trans
forming into a sexy siren, she'd failed miserably. Trey hadn't paid her any notice at all. She was over it, and him, but she wished that he would treat her the way he treated other women. She wasn't a child who needed protecting from vile stories. She wasn't a frail dove that needed rescuing. She was a strong woman who knew when to give up on a hopeless cause. Maddie had given up on Trey Walker.

“I think I'll put my things away now. Thanks, again.” She moved past him, heading down the hallway.

“Dinner's at eight.”

She swirled around. “Oh, I don't expect you to feed me.”

“You have to eat.”

“I…I guess I didn't think—”

“Kit and the guys are off tonight, so you're stuck with my cooking. With any luck, I'll manage not to poison the both of us.”

Now that's encouraging, she thought. “What's for dinner?”

“Stew?”

“I'll help and don't even dream of refusing the offer. It's the least I can do. After all, you're putting me up and allowing me to keep my practice running on your property. I certainly don't expect to be waited on. I want to pull my weight around here. Besides, I don't have a kitchen anymore and I sort of miss cooking.”

Hands on hips, Trey stared at her. “Are you through?”

Maddie's mouth dropped open. “Uh, yeah.”

“Meet me in the kitchen in an hour.”

She gulped then nodded. She couldn't tell if Trey was amused or annoyed at her little outburst. She had to remind herself that he was a man who wasn't accustomed
to having a woman around and he was probably already sorry he'd agreed to their deal.

 

“This is hardly poison, Trey.” Trey watched Maddie polish off her second bowl of son-of-a-gun stew. “And I never figured you for a liar.”

He arched a brow. “Liar?”

“You can cook. I mean
really
cook. You had the meat marinating in this wonderfully delicious sauce and then, you did this amazing thing with the spices. I've never had better stew.”

“You helped,” Trey said, standing to take his plate to the sink.

Maddie immediately rose and gently grabbed the plate from his hand. “All I did was cut up potatoes and carrots. Essentially, you made the meal, so I'm going to do all the cleanup. It's the least—”

“I know, it's the least you can do.”

“Yes, so please sit down and I'll pour your coffee. It'll take me only a minute to have this kitchen back in order.”

Maddie brought him a mug of steaming hot coffee—cream, no sugar, just the way he liked it. Trey decided to sit, rather than argue. He sipped from his coffee and watched her bustle about his kitchen. Wasn't too often a woman graced his kitchen. In fact, the last time he could recall was when his father had married wife number four and they'd held the wedding here at the ranch. Then, there'd been a wagonload of women in the kitchen, caterers and servers alike, cooking up the wedding feast.

The marriage had lasted all of ten months. Hell, Trey couldn't even remember the gal's name exactly. Elisa, Elena, something with an E.

“How's the coffee?” Maddie asked as she bent down to load the dishwasher.

Trey's gaze fastened on the derriere pointing in his direction. He couldn't quite help watching the wiggle as she shifted to make room for more plates. He had a tantalizing view of her backside, and petite as Maddie was, everything she had was perfectly proportioned. Her tank top pulled up as she bent and a slice of skin appeared in the gap at the small of her back. The combination of her wiggling behind and that particular delicate area, newly exposed, caused Trey a moment of grief and that grief was growing harder by the second.

“Coffee's fine,” he managed.

She closed the dishwasher door and lifted up, thankfully. Trey gulped down the rest of his coffee, landing his mug down on the table with a thud.

Maddie appeared before him with the coffeepot in hand. “Another cup?”

Before he could answer, she leaned over to begin pouring. That damn silver horse she wore around her neck caught his eye as it swung out. He followed the glint until the charm settled right smack in the deep hollow between her breasts.

His grief intensified.

He wasn't used to having a pretty woman around, helping with the meals, serving him in his kitchen as though she really belonged here. This cozy domestic scene would give him hives if he weren't careful. And the last thing he needed was to walk around stiff between the legs all day.

He reached out and took hold of Maddie's wrist. “Sit down, Maddie. We need to talk.”

Maddie's eyes grew wide, probably from the sharp
ness of his tone. She sat in a chair across from him and suddenly Trey felt older than his thirty-one years. He opened his mouth to begin, but a commotion coming from the corral had him clamping his mouth down. He listened in, certain now it was his stallion whinnying and snorting, kicking up a fuss. Trey bounded up from his seat. “Storm's fixing to have a tirade. I'd better go check on him.”

Trey headed to the corral quickly, knowing what damage his feisty stallion could do. He reached the fence just as Storm lifted his front legs up in a flurry, snorting loudly, disturbing the quiet of the night. “Hey, boy. Simmer down,” he cooed, trying to soothe the stallion's ire. Storm took note of him, pranced around the perimeter of the corral then stomped, sifting dirt with his front hooves, communicating to Trey the only way he knew how. “I know how you feel, boy. But I can't let you out. Not with the way you're all tangled up inside.”

Trey whistled softly, an old cowboy tune he'd learned as a child, the melody something Storm recognized. The horse snorted again and pranced against the wind, his ink-black mane catching the moonlight.

He was a thing of beauty, Storm. Trey understood his restless nature. He was wild at heart, an animal that didn't hold much trust. Trey understood that horse better than he did most people.

“He's a free spirit.” The gentle voice came from behind.

Trey turned, noting Maddie standing in the shadows. She stepped closer, carefully, with one eye on Storm. Trey trusted her not to spook the horse. Leaning against the fence, he rested his arms on the top rail. “We understand each other.”