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Authors: Patricia Mason,Joann Baker

Tags: #Romance

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BOOK: The Reluctant Rancher
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B
eing completely honest with himself, he’d felt that way since his ex-wife, Debbie, had walked out on him two years ago on their wedding night
. Time hadn’t healed that hurt,
he’d
just
managed to bury
it deeper inside
.

As the truck passed close enough for him to see its make and mod
el, his frown deepened. The old Chevy
belonged to his friend, Mark Talbot, bu
t Mark wasn’t at the wheel. His friend
had moved his new bride to Fiddler Creek more than ten years ago to serve as pastor of one of the m
any churches in Fiddler Creek. He was o
ne of the few men in
Lincoln
County
that Luke consi
dered a close, personal friend and
the
ir
friendship was incongruous at best – the renegade and the preacher. Who would have thought?

Peering closer, he still couldn’t make out the driver. Hell, they could be male or female underneath the
oversized coat they wore. H
e’d bet the ranch
that
no woman’s high heeled shoe pressed against the accelerator. His full lips quirked upward in a self-derisive smile. Luke had a lot of money and some even used the term ‘rich as sin’ when describing him. However, the face in his mirror did not belong to a handsome man. He would even go so far as to describe himself as dog ugly. That, combined with his gruff attitude, made most females shy away from any close contact with him.

He sighed in resignation,
set one last post in place
and h
eaded for the
house. No doubt he was about to be saddled with another of Mark’s good deeds. He shook his head in exasperation at what he considered his friend’s fool-heartedness in se
eing the best in everyone. E
ven though Mark never directly asked for his help, somehow, some way, Luke always found himself in the m
iddle of the preacher’s latest G
ood Samaritan cause.

*
*
*
* *


Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my land?

The shock of the deep male voice held Mary immobile for several seconds. She turned slowly, facing the man she had come
to see. But if the sound of his
voice had shocked her, the sight of the man stunned her. Mary had seen Luke Tanner on several occasions but she had never been this up close and personal. A mountain of a man, she had to look up to see his face. A long way up. With genuine feminine appreciation she realized
that
Luke Tanner w
ou
ld stand at least six-foot-four
in his stocking feet. His shoulders were broad and sturdy, their huge mass emphasized by the flannel-lined denim work jacket he wore. His large size made her, Mary
Carter, feel small and dainty.

A patch of dark, curling hair peeked out from the neckline of his blue plaid western shirt and her stomach quivered at the tantalizing glimpse of his permanently sun-darkened chest. Her gaze fell, drinking in the sight of his strong, muscular legs. Whitewashed jeans clung lov
ingly to every male
sinew
. E
ven though his waist could never be called slim, it was in perfect proportion to his size. To Mary, he was a fine looking man.

With great reluctance, she tore her gaze away, taking in the res
t of his sun-bronzed features –
his frowning forehead, his beard-roughened jaw
,
and his crooked nose. Immediately his eyes captured her attention. My goodness, she had never seen such incredible eyes. Green as the mountain grass after the first spring rain and surrounded by l
ashes a woman would die for
.

Mary shivered, more in reaction to this potently virile male than from the cold seeping beneath her
coat
.


Are you deaf
? I asked you a question, woman.

The voice roared again,
more impatient than before.


I’m sorry.

She mumbled the apology absent
ly, still bemused by her first up close look at the
man
. Her crush had just been thrown into overdrive. She
offered him a gloved hand.

Mr. Tanner
,
I’m Mary Carter, a friend of Jennifer and Mark Talbot. I called yesterday and set up an appointment to talk to you.

Mary saw the narrowing of his eyes as he shook her hand. She returned
his stare, her eyes steady even though she blushed and wanted to look away
.


You must have spoken with my grandfather. What is it this time? I’ve given to the Red Cross and the Little League. Are you here to collect for the Save the Whales Campaign? Because if you are, honey, I’m telling you it’s a lost cause. To the best of my knowledge, no whale has ever been stranded in Fiddler Creek.

T
he cold sarcasm in the rancher’s voice
was exactly what she
’d
expected. She’d know he’d be hard nosed, but her self-doubts rose. Was he
judging her on how she looked
? If she’d been a long legged blonde would he
have
smiled and welcomed her with open arms?

Open arms. My,
oh
my
,
wouldn’t
that be something. She would be
t her next almost-
there
next
paycheck that would be something an
y woman would want to remember.

She
scolded herself
for her lack of self-confidence
. Now was not the time to let her
insecurities surfa
ce. She had
a cha
nce to make a difference in her
life
and she
would
not let o
ne stubborn cowboy stand in her
way.
She felt her temper rise as he continue
d to stare at her.

Luke Tanner was not God’s gift to women by anyone’s standards. His features were
roughhewn
and rawboned and he would never grace the cover of GQ any more than she’d be selected as a cover girl for Cosmo. She wanted so badly to pick up her briefcase, march back to Mark’s truck and drive away from the Circle T and the obnoxious man standing before her. Only the thought of the six part-time nurses on her payroll prevented her from hightailing it back to town as fast as she could.


I’m not here to collect for any charity, even though it wouldn’t hurt you to donate to Save the Whales,

she couldn’t resist adding, her temper swelling several more degrees. He looked totally bored.
She took a calming breath and
continued be
fore losing her nerve
. If she was going to be dismissed out of hand, she might as well go for broke.

You see, Mr. Tanner, I’m a nurse and



I suppose you’ll do.

Luke cut her off
.

I don’t know what my grandfather told you concerning the job, but it’s yours. Follow me.

He strode up the steps leading to the sprawling ranch house.


W
ait a minute.

She put a restrain
ing hand on his arm as he passed
, earning herself a fierce glare in return.


What is it now? I’m a very busy man, Ms. Carter.

Mary almost lost her nerve. Almost.

I didn’t come here about a job. I came here to ask for a loan.

He stopped abruptly.

I am not yo
ur local ATM machine, darling
,

he drawled, contempt evident in every line of his craggy face.


I never thought you were, sugar,

she replied testily, taking a deep breath.

And believe me, if I had any alternative other than coming to you, Mr. Tanner, I’d have taken it.

She knew her mocking tone rolled off him like water on a duck’s back but she’d never liked the casual endearments men threw out like bathwater. When someone called her darling
,
she wanted it to mean something.


I called
yesterday to speak with you. The man who made the appointment said
nothing about interviewing for a job.

The big man sighed and sho
ok his head. She hid her smile, wondering if
his relative
sometimes
gave him hell on occasion.


S
ince my grandfather saw fit to make you an appointment, it’s only fitting he be included in your little presentation. You can pitch your business plan over dinner. Welcome to the Circle T, sweetcake
s
.

Irritation swelled at the taunt, but she held her temper as she tried to keep up with his long legged strides. Her mind whirled.

What had just happened?

Did he need a nurse or did she present her plan? He didn’t look sick. In fact, he looked like an incredibly healthy male specimen. A fine specimen inde
ed, she thought, catching
sigh
t of the well worn denims pulling
tight over his firm butt and muscular legs as he climbed the front porch steps. Whoa, Mary, she chided herself. She couldn’t let herself think about her growing attraction to this man, too much depended on how she handled the next hour or so.

She’d show the arrogant rancher she could make him money. Not a lot, but a tidy enough sum for him to consider financing her business for the next year or two. A five-year projection of income and expenses for her agency lay in her briefcase
. Experts
were predicting that
the health-
care industry
would
be the wave of the future and she wanted to ride that crest to the top. Now she just had to convince the reluctant rancher.

C
hanting now or never
under her breath, she hurried
to catch up
with the fast disappearing man.

Once inside the beautiful home, she
f
ollowed the soun
d of his booted footsteps. A
s she passed thr
ough the living room, she faltered and
came to a complete stop.

The large room seemed to open into thin air letting the beauty of the ranch inside. One wal
l, composed entirely of
tinted glass, gave the room’s occupants an unobstructed view of the frozen grassland and the splendor of the snow capped mountains beyond. Even though everything was barren now, Mary knew in just a few short months the surrounding mountains would be lush and
green, abundant with life. H
er resolve
firmed to convince the man to take a chance on her
. Fiddler Creek was home. A home she didn’t want to give up.

She
 
admired the sanded pine floor covered here and there with colorful braided rugs. A huge stone fireplace dominated another wall. Two chocolate colored leather couches flanked it and a soft bearskin rug lay in front. It was the id
eal picture of home and hearth.

Staring dreamily into space, she imagined a beautifully decorated blue spruce at Christmas with presents piled
knee deep beneath it. She envisioned a
loving couple nest
led together watching
with amused indulgence as black haired boys and delicate,
angelic featured girls
ripped open their brightly wrapped packages to see
what Santa had brought them
.

She refused to speculate on the reason why the couple bore a striking resemblanc
e to herself and the man
quickly
disappearing
down the hall.


Get a move on,

Luke yelled, his voice rudely interrupting her daydream. She snorted indelicately and muttered words of ire under her breath. She prayed he was not always so abrupt.

Following the sound of his voice, she silently encouraged herself to see this through to the end. She may have walked into the lion’s den, but she had no intention of being on this evening’s menu.

* * * * *

Lost in her thoughts, Luke realized Mary didn’t see him stop at the entranc
e to the kitchen. H
is hands went out, stopping her forward motion as she plowed into him.

BOOK: The Reluctant Rancher
5.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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