Rancher to the Rescue

Color infused her cheeks and she glanced away. He tightened his jaw, smothering his amusement over her misinterpretation of his words.

Meg kept her head down and examined the dirt-stained skirt. “Shame that all it’s good for now is the garbage.”

“Why would you want to keep a dress from a wedding you ran away from?”

A flicker of surprise showed in her eyes and then it was gone. “If you would show me where to go, I’ll get out of your way.”

“The bedrooms are upstairs.”

She stepped toward the living room and peered inside. “This is so spacious. And the woodwork is beautiful.”

Her compliment warmed his chest, and whatever he’d been meaning to say floated clean out of his head. This was the first time he’d shown any woman other than Gram around the house he’d helped design and build. He noticed how Meg’s appreciative gaze took in the hardwood floors, the built-in bookcases and the big bay window with the windowseat.

Why in the world did her words mean so much to him? It wasn’t as if they were involved and he was out to impress her. She was merely a stranger passing through his life.

“I’ll show you upstairs,” he said, anxious for a little distance. “I’m sure I’ll have something you can change into. Might not fit, but it’ll be better than all of that fluff.”

“I’m sorry to put you to such bother. If you are ever in Albuquerque you should look me up. The least I can do is take you to dinner.” She followed him to the staircase. “Didn’t you say your grandmother is a fan of the Jiffy Cook?”

He stopped on the bottom step and turned. What was she up to? He hesitated to answer, but the twinkle in Meg’s eyes drew him in. “She watches the show religiously. That’s why she was thrilled to get an invite to the wedding.”

“So why didn’t you attend? You could have gone as her escort.”

His gaze moved to the floor. “I don’t do weddings.”

“Is that from personal experience?”

His hands clenched. What was it with this woman, making him think about things he’d rather leave buried in the dark shadows of his mind? Refusing to reveal too much, he said, “Marriage is for dreamers and suckers. Eventually people figure out there’s no happily-ever-after, but by then it’s usually too late.”

“You can’t be serious! I’ve never heard such a cynical view on marriage. And especially from someone who has never even tried it.”

“Don’t always have to try something to know it’s a sham.”

He didn’t want to go any further with this conversation. He didn’t want to think about the kids of those unhappy marriages that had no voice—no choice.

He turned his back and started up the stairs. Not hearing her behind him, he stopped to glance over his shoulder. She remained in the foyer and shot him a pitying look that pierced his chest.

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say.”

He knew better than to discuss romance and marriage with a woman. He’d thought a runaway bride would have a different perspective on the whole arrangement, but apparently today hadn’t been enough to snuff out her foolish childhood fairytales.

“There’s no such thing as Cinderella or happily-ever-after.” He turned and climbed the rest of the stairs, certain she would follow him with that silly dejected look on her face as if he’d just told her there was no tooth fairy or Easter bunny.

Her heels clicked up the hardwood steps. There was a distinct stamp to her footsteps, as though she resented him pointing out the obvious to her. True, she had had a hard day, but what was he supposed to do? Lie to her? He didn’t believe in romance. Plain and simple.

“Let’s get you settled,” he said, coming to a stop in the hallway. “Then we’ll see about grabbing some chow…if you’re up to it?”

“Actually, I’m feeling better now. And something to eat does sound good.”

He opened the door and stepped back to let her pass.

“Is this your room?” she asked. “I don’t want to put you out.”

“No. Mine’s at the other end of the hallway. This happens to be the only other bedroom I’ve gotten around to furnishing.”

“You decorated this?” Her eyes opened wide as she began inspecting the green walls with the white crown molding.

“It isn’t anything great, but I figured if I was going to have a shot at talking Gram into moving in here she might be persuaded by a cheerful room.”

“It’s definitely cheerful. You did a great job. And I just love the sleigh bed. It’s so big you could get lost in it.”

He nearly offered to come find her, but he caught himself in time. Apparently Meg’s thoughts had roamed in the same direction as color flared in her cheeks and she refused to meet his gaze.

He smiled and propped his shoulder against the doorjamb. “This room has its own bathroom, so feel free to get cleaned up. I’ll go find you something to change into. I’ll be back.”

“Thanks. Seems like I’ve been saying that a lot. But I mean it. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been at the church.”

One minute she was strong and standing her ground and the next she was sweet and vulnerable. She left his head spinning.

“I’ll get those clothes.”

He slipped into the hallway and strode to his bedroom. What in the world was he supposed to give her to wear? there really wasn’t that much to her. She was quite a few inches shorter than him. And he recalled spying high heels when she lifted her dress.

Then there was her waist. She wasn’t skinny, but still none of his pants would even come close to fitting. Not even if they were cinched up with a belt. No, he’d have to think of something else.

Cash rummaged through his closet but found nothing suitable. Then he started sorting through his chest of drawers. He made sure to dig to the bottom, hoping to find something he’d forgotten about. He couldn’t believe he was doing all of this for a woman who was obviously still in love with what’s-his-face. Cash’s hands clenched tight around the T-shirt he’d been holding.

So, if she still loved this guy, why had she run out of the church? He was tired of contemplating that question—he resolved to try again and ask her straight up what had happened. Get it out in the open. Once he understood he’d…he’d give her advice—you know, from a guy’s perspective.

With a plan in mind, he grabbed a pair of drawstring shorts and a T-shirt. He knew she’d swim in them but it was the best he could do.

He returned to the guestroom and found the door shut. he rapped his knuckles against the wood. “Meg?” He waited a few seconds. Nothing. “Meg? It’s me.”

He didn’t hear anything. Guessing she’d opted for a shower, he decided to leave the clothes on the bed before heading down to the kitchen to scrounge up some food.

With a twist of the doorknob he swung the door open and stepped inside. His gaze landed on Meg sprawled over the bed and he came to an abrupt halt. What in the world?

She was lying on her stomach in nothing more than white thigh-high stockings, a garter belt and lacy bikini panties that barely covered her creamy backside…

He swallowed hard and blinked. The sexy vision was still there. He shouldn’t be here, but his feet refused to cooperate.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, snapping him from the trance. He dropped the clothes on the cedar chest at the end of the bed and hightailed it out of the room. The image of her draped over the bed would forever be tattooed on his memory.

CHAPTER FOUR

MEGHAN SHOT UPRIGHT in bed. Something had startled her out of sleep. Her heart pounded in her chest. She shoved the flyaway strands back from her face and looked around. Where was she? Her gaze skimmed over the unfamiliar surroundings.

A knock sounded at the door. “Meg, it’s dinnertime. Gram’s expecting us.”

The male voice was familiar. Cash. Flashes of the day’s events came rushing back to her.

The wedding that would never be.

The narrow escape from the press.

Being sick on the side of the road.

And, lastly, her ride home with Cash and his grandmother.

Thanks to him she was safe. Her breath settled as the beating of her heart eased to a steady rhythm.

An insistent pounding on the door ensued. “Meg? Are you okay? If you don’t answer me I’m coming in.”

She glanced down at her scant bra and white lace panties. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I fell asleep.” She leaned over and grabbed the quilt she’d turned down earlier. With it snug over her shoulders, she was prepared in case Cash charged into the room.

“It’s getting late.” His deep voice rumbled through the door. “We should get moving.”

Her bedraggled wedding dress lay in a heap on the floor. She never wanted to put that dress back on, but she couldn’t go around wrapped in this quilt either, no matter how pretty she found the mosaic of pastel colors.

She worried at her bottom lip. Her gaze slipped to the window, where the sinking sun’s rays glimmered. “But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I left a few things on the cedar chest.”

Relief eased the tension in her body. “Thanks. Give me five minutes to get changed.”

She waited for his retreating footsteps before scrambling out from beneath the quilt. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep for—what? The whole afternoon? For the past couple of weeks if she hadn’t been sick, she’d been tired. she wondered if it was the stress of the wedding or the baby. She pressed her hand protectively to her abdomen.

She rushed into the bathroom to wash up. When she’d finished, she stared in the mirror at her fresh-faced reflection. She had a rule about never going in public without her make-up—but that was before her life ran straight off the rails. The time had come to rethink some of those rules.

Back in the bedroom, she found the clothes where Cash had said he’d left them. Her face warmed as it dawned on her that he would have had to enter the bedroom—while she was sprawled across the bed in the lingerie she’d planned to wear on her wedding night.

The thought of the sexy giant checking her out sent a tingle of excitement zinging through her chest. A part of her wondered what he had been thinking when he realized she’d stripped down to her skivvies before sleep claimed her. Yet in the very next second a blaze of embarrassment rushed up from her chest and singed the roots of her hair—he’d seen her practically naked. Could this day get any worse?

She gave herself a mental shake and gathered the borrowed clothes. His earthy scent clung to the shirt. Her mind conjured up thoughts of the tall, muscular cowboy. If circumstances were different—if her plans were different—she wouldn’t mind moving in for an up close and personal whiff of the man.

As quickly as the notion occurred to her she dismissed it. She didn’t have room in her messed-up life to entertain thoughts about men. Right now she should be concentrating on more important matters, like trying to figure out her future. She had to make careful plans for the little baby growing inside her.

Not wanting to keep Cash waiting longer than necessary, she slipped on the clothes. Though the shorts and T-shirt were about five sizes too big for her, they were at least clean, and much cooler than the tattered dress she’d attempted to shove in the wastebasket.

In the bathroom, she gave her appearance a quick once-over, knowing there was no way she could make herself look good—presentable would have to do. She rushed to the top of the stairs and glanced down to where Cash was pacing in the foyer. His handsome face was creased as though he were deep in thought—probably about how soon she’d be gone from his life.

Her empty stomach rumbled. After only some juice and toast early that morning, her body was running on empty. She started down the steps.

Cash stopped and turned but didn’t speak. She paused on the bottom step as his intense perusal of her outfit made her stomach flutter. Was he remembering what he’d seen upstairs when she’d been sleeping? For a moment she wondered if he’d liked the view.

She forced a tentative smile. “Ready to eat?”

He didn’t return her friendly gesture. In fact, his face lacked any visible emotion. “I’ve been ready.”

“Do you always eat at your grandmother’s?”

He shifted his weight. “With it just being me here, and Gram all alone, I like to keep tabs on her. Sharing meals allows me to make sure she’s okay without it seeming like I’m checking up on her. Speaking of which, we’d best get a move on.”

Meghan glanced down and wiggled her freshly manicured, pink-painted toes. “I don’t have any shoes.”

He sighed. “Wait here. I think I have something that’ll work.”

She couldn’t imagine what he’d have that would fit her size seven feet. A glance at his impressive cowboy boots confirmed her feet would be lost in anything he wore.

When Cash returned from the kitchen he was toting a couple of large bags. He stopped in front of her and dropped them at her feet. “Take a look in those.”

Confused, she peeked inside, finding both bags full of clothes of varying colors. “I don’t understand. Where did these come from?”

“This afternoon Gram needed some stuff in town. So while you were napping I drove her. We picked up some essentials. Whatever doesn’t fit can be returned or exchanged.”

Her mouth gaped. She wasn’t used to such generosity. Harold had always been a stickler for keeping their expenses separate. At first she’d found it strange, but she didn’t mind paying her own way. In fact she’d soon learned she liked being self-reliant and the freedom that came with it.

“But I can’t accept these,” she protested.

Cash frowned. “Why not?”

“I don’t have any money to pay you back…at least not on me.”

“It’s okay. I can afford it.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just you hardly know me and you’ve already opened your home up to me. I can’t have you buying me clothes too.”

His brow arched. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? After all, they aren’t designer fashions.”

“I’m not a snob. Just because I’m on television doesn’t mean I’m uppity—”

“Fine.” He held up his palms to stop her litany. “Consider this a loan. You can pay me back when you get home.”

The idea appealed to her. She really didn’t have too many options. “It’s a deal.”

She bent down and dug through the bag until her fingers wrapped around a pair of bubblegum-colored flip-flops. A little big for her, but it didn’t matter. They fit well enough and they’d be cool in this heat. Double win.

Outside, he held open the truck door for her. She really wanted to walk and enjoy the fresh air and scenery but, recalling they were running late, she didn’t mention it. Suddenly her plans to flee this ranch as soon as possible didn’t seem quite so urgent. This little bit of heaven was like a soothing balm on her frazzled nerves. In fact Cash was making her feel right at home.

The bumps on the way to his grandmother’s house didn’t bother her so much this time, and thankfully it didn’t kick up her nausea. She was feeling better after that nap. Amazing how sleep could make a new person out of you.

Cash pulled to a stop and turned to her. “Before you go inside, I know you’re a fancy cook and all, but my grandmother is a simple woman with simple tastes. She’s proud of her abilities. Don’t make her feel bad if her food isn’t up to your TV standards.”

It hurt that he’d immediately assumed she’d be snooty about dinner. She might be on TV, but she loved home-cooking the same as the next guy.

Heck, if Cash knew she was pregnant and the father had dumped her on her keester, he probably wouldn’t worry so much. However, she had no intention of telling him her little secret. He’d already witnessed her at her lowest point—she wasn’t about to confirm that her entire life was completely out of control.

“I’d never say or do anything to upset your grandmother. I’m very grateful for her kindness.”

“You swear?”

She blinked. He didn’t trust her? “I promise.”

He eyed her, as if to discern if she were on the level. Apparently she passed his test because he climbed out of the truck and she met him on the sidewalk.

The fact he didn’t trust her without even giving her a chance bothered her. Why did he seem so wary of her? Because she was on television? What did he have against TV personalities? Or was it something else?

She most likely wouldn’t be here long enough to figure it out. After she’d had something to eat she’d think up her next move. Yet it made her cringe to think of facing her mother and telling her that she was pregnant and the father didn’t want her or the baby.

Cash trailed Meg into his grandmother’s house. Even the sweet sashay of her rounded backside wasn’t enough to loosen the unease in his chest. In fact it made the discomfort worse.

His mind filled with visions of her bare limbs sprawled across the bed while her assets were barely covered with the sheerest material. It’d taken every bit of willpower to quietly back out of the room and shut the door. No woman had a right to look that tantalizing without even trying.

He couldn’t believe he was letting her get to him. He thought he’d become immune to feminine charms. Take them or leave them had been his motto. And the way this little redhead could distract him with her shapely curves and heart-stopping smile were sure signs he should leave her alone.

“Remember what we talked about,” he said.

“I’m not a child. You don’t have to keep reminding me—like I’d ever be so rude.”

“Good.”

He followed her up the steps to the porch. He wanted to believe Meg, but he’d been lied to by his straight-faced ex-girlfriend. In his experience, when women wanted something badly enough they could be sneaky and deceptive. Now he preferred to err on the side of caution.

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