Lonesome Ryder

“Fine. Quint got kicked in the shin while inoculating one of my calves,” he reported.

“I’m sure that made your day.”

“Damn, Seymour, whaddya do? Have your tongue sharpened while you were in town?” he called after her.

“Ah, you noticed. Glad to know I didn’t waste my money.”

“Are we eating tonight? Or am I supposed to chew on my fingernails to stave off the hunger pangs?” he asked.

Laura dumped the sacks on the kitchen counter and grinned to herself. She wasn’t sure, but the bite in his words didn’t seem as sharp as it once was. Now his tone leaned more toward teasing humor. Could it be that Wade actually missed having her around to torment and was actually glad to have her back? Naw, must be her imagination and Annie’s ridiculous notion that beneath all that razzing and taunting Wade liked her and was determined not to let it show.

“Supper will be ready at the usual time, Your Majesty,” she called to him. “Oh, and before I forget to tell you, I took the liberty of inviting Duff up to the house to dine with me tomorrow night.”

“Liberties aren’t included in your job description,” Wade threw back.

“Too bad. He’s going to teach me to play poker, guzzle beer and smoke cigars. He also promised to teach me how to two-step later in the week so Annie and I can go honky-tonkin’ Saturday night. She’s gonna set me up with a hot date.”

“You don’t have to shout,” Wade muttered as he propped himself against the kitchen wall.

“Sorry, I thought you were still in the living room.”

“I wouldn’t advise accepting any date Annie Nelson arranges for you. She has lousy taste in men.”

Laura paused from sorting and arranging the cold food in the fridge and flung him an annoyed glance. “There was nothing wrong with her taste in men during college. I met her boyfriend, Mark Childress, this afternoon. I’d give him an eight on a scale of ten.”

“A five would be pushing it,” he remarked.

Laura let her appreciative gaze wander over Wade’s muscular physique, admiring the way he filled out his shirt and jeans. Annie was right. Wade Ryder oozed sex appeal. He was definitely beefcake material and she’d like to sneak another peek at all the rippling muscle and sinewy flesh concealed beneath his clothes.

“Depends on who you’re comparing him to,” she said belatedly. Compared to Wade, Mark wouldn’t register a three.

Whoa, don’t even start comparing other men to Wade, she cautioned herself. That implied Wade was the standard measure of excellence.

“What are you looking at, Seymour?” he questioned as he glanced curiously down his torso. “Did I button my shirt improperly?”

Laura snapped her attention back to the interior of the fridge and placed the food on the glass shelves. “Not to worry. You’re properly buttoned up, except for your lip and it would require surgery to keep that shut.”

“I’m trying to make friendly conversation.” He scowled at her and his thick brows flattened menacingly over his eyes.

Friendly? That’d be the day. “Don’t strain yourself, Ryder. You have enough injuries already,” she snapped.

He held his tongue so long that Laura glanced up to determine the problem. Her breath lodged in her throat when those laserlike green eyes zeroed in on her. His penetrating gaze made a thorough sweep of her knit blouse, denim shorts and the exposed length of her legs. She felt her body burn each place his riveting gaze touched. Was something going on here that she’d missed while she had her head stuck in the fridge? How could they possibly have gone from snappy repartee to this sizzling sensual awareness that leaped back and forth between them like two-twenty volts of electrical current?

One smoldering look from Wade and desire contracted inside her like a coil of fire. She’d never experienced anything remotely like this before.

Laura felt as if time had ground to a halt, as if the looks passing between them were trying to define themselves. Yet, she wasn’t sure she could correctly decode the message he was sending because she constantly received mixed signals from him. Nevertheless, she was helpless to restrain the feminine vibes her body bleeped at him. Just what the heck was going on between them? She wished she knew for certain.

Was it hot in here? Suddenly the heat seemed stifling and breathing was a real chore. Her gaze dropped to the sensuous curve of his mouth and Laura was struck by the tormenting realization that she was starving to death for a taste of him. She wondered what it would be like to exchange kisses rather than saucy retorts, wondered how it would feel to be pressed familiarly against that rock-solid body, despite his encumbering cast and sling.

Call her reckless and crazy but she’d really, really like to know how it felt to be kissed and held by him. For the sake of curiosity, if nothing else. Oh right, who was she kidding? Her curiosity wasn’t the only thing that was dying to find out how well he kissed.

Laura’s heart stalled in her chest when Wade pushed away from the wall and took one, then two hobbling steps toward her. Then he halted in his tracks, muttered something to himself and stood there, looking at her as if he was waging some tormenting internal battle. Her heart plummeted to the tiled floor and she felt like whaling him upside the head for refusing to approach her. He just kept staring at her with that exasperating mixture of hungry need and wary caution.

Hoo-kay, if he didn’t have the gumption to just kiss her and get it over with then she’d have to take the initiative. After all, she’d come to Oklahoma to break old habits, explore her newfound freedom and make her own decisions without her brothers’ constant censorship.

Mustering her courage, Laura closed the small distance between them, pushed up on tiptoe and kissed him squarely on the mouth—and felt a blast of heat sweeping through every fiber of her being. Instinctively she pressed closer, craving something more. But Wade didn’t hook his right arm around her waist and pull her snugly against him. He didn’t even kiss her back—which was a huge disappointment. It didn’t do a thing for her self-confidence, either. He just stared at her with those glowing green eyes, as if he wanted to kiss her back but refused to let himself do it. Now she really wanted to whale him upside the head!

Determined to blunder through the awkward silence, Laura dropped down on her heels and plastered on a breezy smile to conceal her embarrassment—and there was plenty of that pulsating in her face, she was sure.

“Why’d you do that?” His voice crackled like static and his massive chest expanded with ragged breaths.

“Why didn’t you do it so I wouldn’t have to?” she countered shakily.

Seconds ticked by while she tried to draw a breath that wasn’t thick with the tantalizing scent of him. Hoo-boy, how was a woman supposed to extricate herself from such an awkward encounter? She had no idea! Why didn’t he say something, damn it? Snippy insults were better than this maddening silence that stretched between them like a rubber band about to snap.

“Well, that answers that,” she said lamely.

He didn’t so much as blink. His gaze just bored into her. “What was the question?”

Thoroughly exasperated, she swatted him on the chest with the back of her hand. “You’re impossible!”

“Then quit,” he suggested. His face was such an unreadable mask that she wanted to grab him by his shirt collar and shake the stuffing out of him.

“Not on your life, buster,” she erupted. “You can’t fire me and I refuse to leave. You’re stuck with me!”

“Not necessarily,” he begged to differ. “A cleverly arranged murder is still an option.”

She smirked at him. “You’d never get away with it. And you know what else?”

“I’m afraid to guess because I’m probably being graded on this, professor. You’ll deduct the number of wrong answers from the right ones and I’ll end up with a score of zero.”

Laura cocked her head and studied him pensively. Was he teasing her with that dry wit that could stir up a cloud of dust? She was pretty sure he was. Wow! A real breakthrough!

In a moment of what was surely impulsive insanity, Laura looped her arms around his neck, surged upward and kissed him again. His mouth softened ever so slightly, but she didn’t stick around to embarrass herself again, just in case he refused to kiss her back a second time. With a loud smack for her grand finale she broke the kiss, wheeled around and wobbled over to the sink, hoping he’d take his cue and leave so she could splash water on her face and cool off.

While Laura ran the faucets full blast and stared out the kitchen window Wade pivoted around and hobbled into the living room on one crutch, one broken leg and two unsteady knees that threatened to fold up like lawn chairs. He couldn’t breathe normally and sensual awareness echoed through him like feedback to a microphone. He made it to the recliner—barely—before he collapsed.

“Aw, damn,” Wade whispered roughly. And that was putting it mildly! He’d watched Laura bend over and poke her head in the fridge and his gaze and attention had been immediately drawn to the swell of her breasts and the alluring curve of her fanny. Desire had shot through him like a lightning bolt.

He’d taken two impulsive steps toward Laura then grabbed onto his self-control with both fists, telling himself that touching her would be a huge mistake because he was afraid to trust the hot, wild sensations she aroused in him and the ravenous hunger he felt for her. He’d been wrong to trust his feelings and desires before and he’d paid dearly, thanks to his ex. But Laura had had the courage to walk right up to him and finish what he’d foolishly started.

Now he wished he didn’t know that she tasted like raindrops during a spring shower. He wished he didn’t know that the slightest brush of her lush body could make him hard and aching in the time it took to hiccup. He wished he didn’t know that he’d never be satisfied not tasting her again, not touching, not being as close to her as two people could get because he was so intensely attracted to her that it was downright unnerving!

“Aw…damn…” he repeated. Another wave of tormenting desire crashed over him and threatened to drown him in forbidden wanting. What the hell was he going to do with that woman when he couldn’t fire her, she wouldn’t quit and he was starting to like her way too much?

THE NEXT DAY, WADE was still searching for the answer to that question while he lounged in his recliner. He glanced up from the TV when he heard the front door swing open. He inwardly groaned when Laura strolled inside, wearing a wet T-shirt and shorts that clung to her curvaceous body like a coat of paint. Traitorous desire delivered a quick knockout punch as his gaze roamed helplessly over her. Damn it! He’d been sitting here, listing all the reasons he needed to keep his distance from Laura and here she came again, tormenting him to no end. Wanting her, and refusing to do anything about it was wearing him out.

He frowned disapprovingly when he managed to drag his eyes off Laura’s shapely body and noticed Frank was at her heels. “What’s he doing in the house? He’s a cow dog.”

Laura reached down to pat Frank’s damp head. “I thought you might enjoy having Frank around for company, so Duff and I bathed him and applied some flea and tick medication.”

“I don’t want him in the house,” Wade insisted.

“Sure you do,” she contradicted as she crossed the room.

Her wet clothes demanded his attention again and he gritted his teeth against the insane urge to reach out and map the exquisite terrain of her feminine body. Well hell, so much for trying to stifle the desire that looking at her engendered. Arousal was becoming the conditioned response to seeing her. Damnation, he was turning into a basket case!

“Frank, you stay here and visit with Wade while I start supper,” she ordered, then headed for the kitchen. “Duff should be here soon.”

“Ooofff.” Wade grunted when Frank bounded onto his lap and sat there staring happily at him. Wade sighed in defeat and scratched behind Frank’s ear.

The woman was definitely taking over his home and his life, he realized. She dominated his thoughts, too. And lately, most of those thoughts originated below his belt buckle.

When Frank used Wade’s crotch as a springboard to bound from the chair, he grimaced uncomfortably. He muttered a salty curse when Frank trotted to the kitchen to rejoin Laura. Damn dog had turned traitor and was getting attached to Laura.

Wade sat there in his chair, wondering how much longer he could hold out against this woman’s devastating charms. She’d rearranged his life, left her memory all around his house and she had him wanting her to the extreme. He honestly wondered if the self-control he’d taken for granted for years could fortify him until she was out from underfoot. Wade had the uneasy feeling that one of these days he’d buckle to this inevitable attraction and wind up getting hurt all over again.

Would Laura be as hard on his heart as Bobbie Lynn had been? Wade liked to think not, but he still wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk of caring and finding out for sure.

“NO, NO, NO, YA DON’T CLAMP a cigar between your teeth like that,” Duff instructed. “Hold that bad boy like this.”

Laura watched her mentor of newly acquired vices bite down on his stogie and then she imitated his technique.

“That’s better,” Duff said. “Now squint your eyes a bit and look down at the cards in your hand. Don’t change expression, either. That’s a dead giveaway that you’re holding something good.”

Laura conjured up the somber expression that was Wade’s trademark then studied her poker hand. She glanced at the paper Duff had filled out so she’d know if a flush beat a straight and where a full house fit in the winning sequences.

“Now, casually take a sip of beer,” Duff told her. “And slouch in your chair a bit. You look as if you’re ready to pounce. Nonchalance is the name of the game here.”

Laura draped herself negligently in her chair and took another sip of beer. It wasn’t her beverage of choice, but in Duff’s book of etiquette, poker and beer went together like peanut butter and jelly.

“Gimme two,” Duff requested as he puffed his stogie and squinted at his hand of cards.

“You bet, slick. The dealer takes one.”

While Laura dealt the cards, Wade lingered by the kitchen door, feeling like an outsider in his own home. Earlier, while he was eating alone in the living room, he’d heard Duff and Laura jabbering and laughing and he’d turned an unbecoming shade of envy green because he wasn’t in there enjoying her company when he really wanted to be.

Duff, he noticed, had gotten all gussied up to join Laura at the table for dinner. You’d have thought the old coot was on a date, considering he’d shaved the stubble off his face and ironed his striped Western shirt and jeans.

Wade smiled in amusement as he watched Laura emulate Duff’s gestures and puff on the cigar she had clenched between her teeth. Well hell, he just couldn’t take this feeling of isolation another minute. He was going to limp in there and invite himself into the game. With Duff as a buffer he could share an enjoyable evening with Laura without doing something stupid—like kissing her senseless the way he wanted to.

Laura glanced up when Wade rounded the corner. He barked a laugh when she gave him an one-eyed squint, her poker face intact, her stogie tilted at a jaunty angle. “Better have your ATM card handy if you want to join in this game, ace,” she drawled playfully. “This is high stakes, y’know.”

Wade’s gaze dropped to the stack of pennies on the table then he hobbled over to retrieve what was left of the whiskey he’d poured down his gullet the first night Laura arrived.

“Duff says beer suits poker better,” Laura informed him.

“I’m sticking with Daniel’s.” Wade filled two glasses. “What’s up with this need to learn to play poker, Seymour?”

She shrugged casually. “I’ve led a sheltered life up to this point, so I’ve decided to broaden my horizons and Duff is helping me. Are you in on this hand, Ryder? Or do you want to sit there and nurse your whiskey?”

“I’m in. What’s the game?” Wade awkwardly parked himself in a chair while Duff dealt the hand.

“Seven card stud, stud,” Laura replied, grinning playfully around the stogie clamped in her teeth. “Duff’s teaching me a variety of games tonight.”

“She’s beaten me at half of ’em, too,” Duff said. “Even for a beginner, this little gal is dang lucky at cards.”

Wade took a quick peek at the two cards in the hole, then watched Duff deal four cards face up. He darted a glance at Laura’s exposed hand and he nearly choked on his booze. Three aces stared back at him. His accusing gaze swung to Duff who wore a wry grin. The old rascal was cheating. He had to be. He was letting Laura win to ensure she had a good time.

Sure enough, Laura breezed through the first two hands and collected all the pennies. After fifteen minutes of one incredible hand after another, no matter which game Duff suggested, Laura raked in the winnings.

“Go ahead and play without me,” she insisted as she snuffed out her stogie. “I left a load of laundry in the dryer and I better remove it before everything wrinkles.”

She leaned over to give Duff an affectionate peck on the cheek before she strode off. When Laura kissed Duff, Wade swore the old man died, right there in his chair, and went straight to heaven. Wade glanced over his shoulder, noting the sly smile on Laura’s lips—and he realized the woman was far cleverer than he’d given her credit. He’d bet his last penny that she’d purposely invited Duff to the house to treat him to a home-cooked meal and harmless female companionship, before luring in Wade so he could enjoy their company. Since Wade had made it clear he wanted to keep his distance from Laura, she’d ensured that he didn’t spend all his evenings alone. Frank, who was sprawled on the living-room floor, catching a few Zs, was another example of her wily strategy.

“That’s some woman,” Duff murmured as he dealt a hand of seven-card stud. “I can’t figure out why you wanted Quint and Vance to think she wasn’t doing her job…unless…”

Wade squirmed beneath Duff’s gimlet-eyed squint. “Unless what?”

“Unless you’re afraid of getting too attached to her,” he said perceptively.

“Are we going to play poker or gab?” Wade asked.

“I can do both at once.” Duff picked up his cards and gave them a quick look-see. “If I was thirty years younger you wouldn’t see me trying to drive that perty little gal away.”

“Well, you’re not, so act your age and ante up.”

Duff chuckled as he flipped a penny toward the center of the table. “Gonna play your hand close to your vest, are you, boy? Okay, fine. You do that. But you need to know that Frank and I are perty attached to that little gal.”

No kidding. Wade would’ve sworn his loyal cow dog would never defect to the enemy camp. They’d worked cattle together for years and Frank often rode shotgun in the pickup when Wade made trips into town. They were best buddies. But it was evident that Frank was allowing a woman to come between them.

“You should see Frank follow at that gal’s heels when she ventures outside,” Duff went on. “She always takes time to give him a pat on the head or scratch behind his ears. She must’ve picked up some dog treats in town because I saw her slip one to Frank while she was running water in the cattle tank for me after supper.”

Swell, thought Wade. His dog was suffering a bout of puppy love and so was Duff. Quint and Vance thought Laura was the perfect temp help who could do no wrong. The whole world was ganging up on him.

Despite how hard Wade tried not to get emotionally attached, he liked having Laura around. Worse, he’d actually missed her when she’d gone to town and he’d sat there in his chair, ears pricked, listening for the sound of her car zooming down the graveled road.

“You gonna bet or sit there staring into space, boy?” Duff prompted.

“Depends on whether you’re going to cheat the way you did while Laura was in the game,” Wade flung back.

Duff grinned unrepentantly. “I just wanted to show her a good time during her first experience at poker. So shoot me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Wade tossed a penny on the table.

Duff snickered as he called the bet. “Maybe you oughta just shoot yourself and put yourself out of your misery. Knowing you, it’d be easier than admitting you actually like having that little gal around. And just so you know, I may be old, but I ain’t blind. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you don’t think anyone notices, so don’t bother denying it.”

Wade scowled sourly when Duff laid his winning hand on the table. “Damn, sometimes you just can’t win for losing.”

Duff gathered up the beer cans and tossed them in the trash. “You’ve got a win-win situation going here. Don’t screw it up, son. Give yourself a chance at happiness.”

With that parting advice Duff walked out the back door to return to his cabin. Wade’s shoulders slumped. He reached for his whiskey and took a sip, wishing the taste of liquor could curb the thirst that had been tormenting him. He wanted to feel Laura’s lush mouth beneath his again, to feel her shapely body brushing against him. But he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop with a few kisses.

Afraid. There was that word again. The more he thought about it, the more he thought Laura might be right. He was afraid. Not of women in general, but afraid of her. Afraid his self-control would slip and his suppressed feelings for her would come pouring out. Afraid of this ever-growing attraction. Afraid of the pleasure he derived from being with her—and not just in bed. He could’ve accepted and acknowledged the sexual attraction. It was a given. It was these deeper feelings that really had him worried.

Wade knocked back another drink, shuffled the cards and played solitaire until he was tired enough to hit the sack. But when he retired for the night, he kept picturing Laura smoking a cigar, squinting up at him with a cocky grin, sipping a longneck—in attempt to broaden her horizons.

Wade fell asleep with a grin on his lips.

SATURDAY NIGHT, BORED nearly to death, Wade sat in his recliner, surfing the TV channels and finding not one decent program to watch. When an unexpected knock rattled the front door, Wade glanced sideways. “It’s open!”

His curious gaze transformed into a sour scowl when Kevin Shelton, the history teacher, walked inside. Brown hair neatly clipped and styled, Kevin stood there on two good legs, his hands tucked in the pockets of his khaki slacks. His trendy clothes and good looks caused Wade to mutter under his breath. In comparison to Mr. Teacher of the Year, Wade felt like a beat-up old geezer.

“Hi, Wade,” Kevin said. “Is Laura ready?”

“Probably not,” Wade grumbled. “She’s a woman, after all. Isn’t it indigenous of the gender to always be late?”

“Hi, Kevin,” Laura called out—proving Wade wrong about her punctuality. She emerged from the hall, looking all too seductive in a tight-fitting miniskirt that emphasized the length and feminine curve of her legs and thighs.

“Well, isn’t this cute?” Wade said under his breath. “Here’s Ken and Barbie, decked out for a night on the town.”

He stifled the feelings of possessiveness that roiled through him. He didn’t want Laura to go out with Kevin, but he had no right whatsoever to object. “You better have her home early,” Wade demanded before he could stop himself.

Laura’s sculpted brows elevated in surprise as she glanced over her shoulder to stare curiously at Wade.

“Sure thing,” Kevin said, smiling awkwardly.

“She punches the clock at seven sharp in the morning. I don’t want her dragging butt when there’s work to do.” God, he sounded like a grumpy idiot. Jealousy was gnawing at his male pride and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

“Not to worry, boss.” Laura slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, causing the clingy fabric of her knit top to strain against her breasts. Wade glowered when he noticed Kevin’s attention had dipped to her bosom. “My duties won’t suffer, you can count on it,” she assured him.