The Rancher's One-Week Wife

“I never said I was in a hurry to get rid of you.”

He stared at her for a moment before he shrugged. “That’s debatable, but it’s not the issue. I need a notarized copy of the final decree.”

Karly nibbled on her lower lip as she nervously met Blake’s fathomless brown eyes. The time had come to lay out the reason for her visit and apologize for making such a mess of everything. “Actually, I don’t even have a copy of it myself.”

“Didn’t they send you one?” he asked, his frown turning to a scowl.

“No, but I’m sure they will,” she said evasively. She needed to explain what happened before she told him the reason she’d traveled all the way to Wyoming. “The import company I work for sent me to their offices in Hong Kong for several months shortly before the ninety-day cooling-off period was up and I wasn’t able to check on it from overseas.” Her head pounded as she thought about how badly she’d handled something as important to both herself and Blake as their divorce. But she’d been sad and unsure as to why she’d felt so badly about a logical, sensible decision that should have brought only relief. “When I got back last week, I called to inquire about our copies of the final decree.”

He must have been able to sense that there was more to the story because Blake’s scowl darkened. “What did they say?”

Shaking her head, Karly took a deep fortifying breath in order to tell him the rest of what had happened. “I called the Lincoln County courthouse to see if I could get a copy of the final decree...”

When she let her voice trail off as she searched for the right words, he prompted, “Yeah, I got that. You called about the papers. And?”

Karly briefly closed her eyes as she tried to gather her courage for what needed to be said. Opening them to meet his suspicious gaze, she did her best to keep her voice steady. “Apparently the papers were lost in the mail because the court clerk has no record of us ever filing for a divorce.” She had to take a deep breath before she could finish. “It appears that we’re still husband and wife, Blake.”

“We’re still married,” he repeated as if he had a hard time grasping what she’d said.

“Yes.” She hurried on as she reached into her purse to take out a new set of divorce papers. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed the envelope on the desk in front of him. “I’m really sorry for the inconvenience. Once you sign these, I’m going to fly to Spokane and drive over to the Lincoln County courthouse to file them with the clerk myself.”

“So all this time, I’ve been thinking I’m a free man and I wasn’t,” he said, sitting back in the desk chair.

“Have you met someone?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He raised one dark eyebrow as he stared at her. “Would it matter if I had, Karly?”

Yes! “No,” she lied. Thinking quickly, she added, “I was, um, afraid this snag might have derailed plans you might have made with someone else.”

He continued to stare at her for a few moments before he smiled, shook his head and opened the envelope to remove the document. Reaching for an ink pen, he signed where she had flagged the papers with colored sticky notes.

“Well, you’re stuck with me for at least another ninety days,” he said, sliding the pages back into the envelope and pushing it across the desk’s shiny surface toward her.

Karly winced at his acidic tone. She knew he was disillusioned and extremely unhappy with the situation. “I’m really...sorry, Blake. I never meant for any of this to happen.” At least, not the mishandling of their divorce.

“Yeah, well, it did,” he said, sounding resigned. “When you file these at the courthouse, make sure they send me copies of everything.”

“Of course,” she said, nodding as she slid the envelope back into her shoulder bag. She hesitated a moment as she tried to think of some way to say goodbye. Deciding there wasn’t anything she could say that wouldn’t make matters worse, she rose to her feet. “I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else we need to do.”

“Did you drive all the way from Seattle or is that little toy in the driveway a rental?” he asked, standing up.

“I rented it when I flew into the Cheyenne Regional Airport,” she answered, wondering why he wanted to know.

“I’ll check under the car before you leave to make sure you didn’t do some kind of damage to the undercarriage,” he said, taking his wide-brimmed hat from the hook as they left the room. “You hit quite a few potholes on your way up the lane. Drive slower on the way back. You’ll be less likely to damage the car.”

“Who’s responsible for taking care of the roads around here?” she asked. “They’re in terrible condition.”

“The county is responsible for the roads leading up to the ranch property lines, but ranchers have to keep the roads on their land plowed in the winter and graded in the summer,” he explained. “We took care of grading the road after the snow melted off in the spring. But once the rainy season hit it washed out a lot of places. We were waiting until it dried up to work on the road again, when we have time.”

“I think it’s safe to say it’s dry enough,” she said as they walked out of the house. She didn’t know much about caring for a ranch or tending to roads, but she did notice the red sports car was coated with a thick layer of Wyoming dust.

His deep laughter sent heat racing through her veins and reminded her of the carefree man she’d met eight months ago. The man he’d been before she’d told him she couldn’t be his wife after all. “It won’t be an issue much longer,” he stated. “The new owner is having it asphalted all the way to the county road.”

“Why didn’t the previous owner do that?” she asked, walking across the yard with him to the rental car.

“After her husband died, she wasn’t interested in anything but trying to sell the ranch to a land developer. When she tried for a couple of years and failed to find a buyer, she finally sold it to one of her husband’s sons from a previous marriage,” he answered, sounding a little angry as he kneeled down to peer under the car.

She briefly wondered why he would be upset by a property dispute between the owner’s heirs, but she abandoned her speculation when her cell phone chirped. Taking it out of her shoulder bag, Karly looked to see who was texting her. Her heart sank as she read the message. It was an alert from the airline, informing her that due to a contract-workers strike at the Denver airport, all flights had been canceled until further notice. Since the only commercial airline going in or out of the Cheyenne airfield was from Denver, she wasn’t going anywhere until the labor dispute was settled.

“Lovely,” she muttered sarcastically. Now what was she supposed to do?

She’d packed light because she hadn’t expected to be away from home for more than a couple of nights. And she certainly hadn’t planned on having to find a local place to stay indefinitely while the strike was settled.

“Looks like everything is intact,” Blake said, unaware of her dilemma. He straightened to his full height as he dusted off his hands. “When does your flight leave?”

“It’s not leaving,” she said disgustedly as she opened the browser on her phone to see what lodging was available in the nearest town. “All flights in and out of Denver have been canceled due to an airport workers’ strike.”

He remained silent for several long moments and when she looked up, he was staring at her. “Looks like you’ll be spending some time on the Wolf Creek Ranch after all,” he said, folding his arms across his wide chest.

“No, I’ll get a room in town,” she said determinedly. It had been hard enough to see him again, to sit across the desk from him. She couldn’t imagine spending the night in the same house with him, knowing he was so close and not being able to touch him or have him hold her.

He pointed toward the mountains to the west. “Not tonight you won’t. I can’t, in good conscience, let you drive on unfamiliar mountain roads in the dark. Hell, it would be a miracle if you didn’t get lost or end up hung in the top of a tree after missing a curve and going over the side of the mountain.”

“You can’t allow me to drive back in the dark?” she demanded indignantly. “I have news for you, buster. If I choose to go, you aren’t going to stop me.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head as if trying to gather his patience. When he opened them, he looked directly at her. “I realize we won’t be married for much longer, but right now, I’m still your husband,” he finally said. “I take my vows seriously. It’s my job to keep you safe until a judge says otherwise. I’d feel a lot better if you would at least wait to make the drive until tomorrow morning. It’s safer.”

Karly was surprised by his grudging admission that he thought he should protect her. There hadn’t been anyone who’d cared about her safety since her mother passed away several years ago. But as nice as it was to have someone worry about her well-being again, she needed to remember that Blake was only doing it because he felt it was his obligation. He’d signed the divorce papers. He must be as ready to undo their mistake as she was.

Sighing heavily, she tried to decide what to do. Everything about this trip had gone awry. Her flight from Denver to Cheyenne had been delayed for over two hours due to a dangerous storm front moving through, the drive to the ranch had taken three times as long as she had anticipated due to the car the rental agency had provided and her meeting with Blake hadn’t gone as quickly as she’d thought it would. The way her luck had been running, it was very likely that she’d end up in one of the disastrous scenarios he mentioned.

“Eagle Fork is only twenty miles away,” she said, glancing at the sun rapidly sinking behind the mountains to the west.

“It takes a little over an hour in the daylight to drive down the mountain to get there. How long do you think it would take you to get back at night?” Blake pointed toward the road. “Do you really want to drive on unfamiliar, rough mountain roads in the dark? At least stay tonight.”

“If I take it slow, I shouldn’t have a problem,” she hedged. Sleeping in the same house with Blake—even if it was in different rooms—wasn’t a good idea. He was six feet two inches of male temptation that had proved almost impossible for her to resist in the past. It had taken going all the way back to Seattle for her to realize the effect he’d had on her good sense. What crazy decisions would she make if she stayed here with him?

“And what happens if you have a deer or elk run across the road in front of you?” he persisted, oblivious to her inner battle. “I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. If you hit one of those in that little toy car, you’re going to lose.”

Karly stared at him as she weighed her options. Driving up through the mountains during the day with all the switchbacks and ninety-degree curves had been a challenge. And of course, there had been the last several miles to the ranch, which had become a dirt-and-gravel road pitted with more holes than a piece of Swiss cheese. But at night?

She hated to admit it, but her choices were extremely limited. Since she didn’t know another soul in Wyoming, she either had to risk going down the mountain in the dark to find a motel room in Eagle Fork, or stay with Blake.

As she watched the evening shadows begin to overtake the high mountain valley, she decided she had run out of time. There simply wasn’t enough daylight left to make it back to town before it got completely dark.

“I suppose I could spend the night here and then drive back down to Eagle Fork tomorrow to get a room for however long it takes the strike to be resolved,” she said, talking more to herself than to Blake.

“Then it’s settled,” he said, walking to the back of the car. “I’ll carry your luggage inside.”

“I wasn’t expecting to spend more than two nights away from home and only have an overnight case,” she said, using the keyless remote to open the trunk as she walked over to take the small bag from him. “I can bring it inside.”

He shook his head as he lifted it from the trunk. “Grandma Jean would have my hide if she got wind of me letting you carry your luggage yourself.”

“Does she live close by?” Karly had never known what it was like to be close to a grandparent. Three of hers had passed away before she was born and her paternal grandmother had lived so far away, she’d only seen her a handful of times.

“She lives down in Eagle Fork,” he said as he placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her into the house. “There were several of us who lived with her during the winter when we were still in school.”

“Because of all the snow?” she mused as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. If the roads were so difficult to navigate in the summer, she couldn’t imagine trying to get around in a heavy snowfall.

“It was easier to stay down there where we could get to school than have to miss and make up all of the schoolwork when we were finally able to get back to class,” he said, nodding as he stepped back so she could enter a bedroom. When he set her small suitcase on the bed, he hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “While you get settled, I have to drive over to the main house to see about a few things the owner needs me to take care of.”

“Was that the huge log home I passed just before I got here?” she asked, unzipping the overnight case to remove her flip-flops. She loved wearing heels, but she had been in them all day and her feet were beginning to hurt.

Blake nodded. “The owner had that built a couple of years ago. Right after he bought the ranch.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, removing the heels to put on the flip-flops. “And it’s perfect for the rugged surroundings.”

He stared at her a moment before he turned and walked out into the hall. “I guess I’d better go on over to the main house. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”

As she heard him descend the stairs, she began to realize just how little she knew about the man she had married. In Las Vegas, Blake had literally swept her off her feet and charmed her into a fairy-tale week of romance, lovemaking and a wedding. But as idyllic as their time together had been, they hadn’t talked about their families or jobs, their hopes or their dreams.

“It would have never worked between us,” she murmured as she sat down on the side of the bed.

The realization was not a new one. So Karly had no idea why the words made her feel so sad. This was what she’d chosen—the way it had to be. She wasn’t about to make the same mistakes her mother had made. She wasn’t going to give up everything—her home, her lifestyle, her job—for a man and then resent him for her choices.

No matter how beautiful it was here or how cherished and safe Blake made her feel when he took her in his arms, she couldn’t live on this ranch with him any more than he could live with her in Seattle. And the sooner she accepted that truth, the better off she would be.

Two

Blake glanced over at his backpack, the thermal food carrier and the jug of iced tea on the truck seat beside him as he drove away from the main ranch house. His house.

He had never lied to Karly, not eight months ago and not today.

But he hadn’t been completely honest with her, either.

When they met in Las Vegas, he’d told her that besides competing in rodeo, he was the boss at the Wolf Creek Ranch in Wyoming. She had assumed that meant he was the foreman and he hadn’t bothered to set her straight. For one thing, they’d been so hot for each other, they hadn’t talked at length about their jobs or much of anything else. And for another, he didn’t go around flaunting the fact that he owned the Wolf Creek or that he was a multimillionaire.

He had firsthand knowledge of how the lure of money could influence people and he intended to avoid that kind of shallowness at all costs. He didn’t want the money to affect his relationships, and he’d been especially careful about what he’d shared with the woman he’d married so quickly. In the past, both he and his father had seen the ugly side of women hell-bent on getting their hands on a hefty bankroll and once had been enough to leave Blake more than a little cautious.

But he was fairly certain Karly had no knowledge about the size of his bank account. She had fallen for him—without the influence of his money. He had figured that when she joined him at the ranch it would be a nice surprise to let her know that they would never have financial worries like a lot of other couples starting out. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the chance to tell her the truth because she’d decided that living in a big city without him was preferable to living on the ranch with him. She’d made that decision without the influence of his money, too.

In hindsight, he wished he’d told her right after they got married in Vegas. He didn’t want her thinking that he had been trying to hide his assets because of their pending divorce. That wasn’t the case at all. And he had every intention of telling her the truth, as well as providing her with a nice settlement for the very brief time they’d been married. He just needed to figure out the right time and way to go about doing that.

He could have told her about his wealth when she called from Seattle to tell him she thought they’d made a mistake and that ending the marriage would be for the best. But he’d decided against that because she might have assumed it was a desperate attempt on his part to get her to reconsider their divorce, to give them a chance. Him begging for a second chance was something that would never happen. Even if his pride had allowed it, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. She’d had her mind made up and nothing he could have said would have changed it.

So he’d kept his secret and signed the papers. But he could have told her the truth today, too, when she’d mistakenly assumed the foreman’s cottage was his house and that the main house and ranch belonged to someone else. But he’d held back without really knowing why.

All he knew was that his ego had taken enough of a hit eight months ago, when he’d learned that while she might have been the woman of his dreams, he obviously hadn’t been the man of hers. And if he was perfectly honest with himself, there had probably been a little fear holding him back, as well. He hadn’t wanted to tell her he was rich and end up finding out that he’d been wrong about her—that Karly could be swayed by the temptation of his money.

As he steered his truck up the lane leading to the foreman’s cottage, he reached up to rub the tension building at the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure how something that had originally felt so right had gone so wrong. When he’d married Karly after only knowing her a week, the decision had seemed as natural as taking his next breath. Their whirlwind wedding carried on the Hartwell family tradition. Blake’s Grandma and Grandpa Hartwell had been married three days after meeting and his father and mother tied the knot two weeks after their first date. Both couples had successful marriages until death separated them and Blake had been sure it would be that way with himself and Karly. It was obvious now that he had been wrong.

Parking his truck beside the little red sports car, Blake took a deep breath and reached for his backpack, the thermal carrier full of food and the gallon thermos of iced tea he’d had his cook pack for their supper. There was no sense in trying to figure out how he could have misjudged Karly’s commitment to their relationship. He had and there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Besides, he’d never been one to dwell on his mistakes.

As he walked toward the cottage, she opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. His breath caught and his heart thumped against his ribs. He felt the same pull that had drawn him to her the first time he’d laid eyes on her in Vegas. He forced himself to ignore the feeling. She might be the most exciting woman he’d ever known, but the sting of her rejection and her disdain for his lifestyle told him in no uncertain terms just how unimportant he was to her. She’d walked away from him once. He wouldn’t give her another chance to do it again.

Distracted by his turbulent thoughts, it took him a moment to notice the frown on her pretty face. “Is something wrong?” he asked as he climbed the steps.

“Where do you keep your food?” she answered his question with one of her own as they entered the house. “I was going to make something for dinner, but the refrigerator and pantry are both empty. If you live here why isn’t there anything in the house to eat?”

“I usually eat down at the bunkhouse with the single men or over at the main house,” he said truthfully as he set the cooler and jug of iced tea on the kitchen island, then turned to hang his hat on a peg by the door. He did eat with his men at the bunkhouse occasionally, just not as often as he ate what his cook made for him in the main house.

She looked doubtful. “Even in the winter when you’re snowed in?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her erroneous assumption. “Sweetheart, there’s no such thing as getting snowed in around here. A ranch is a twenty-four-hours, seven-days-a-week operation. It never shuts down because the livestock are depending on us to take care of them. If it rains we get wet. If it snows we wade through it no matter how deep it gets or how cold it is.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Looking a little sheepish, she shook her head. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know anything about ranching.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He motioned toward the thermal carrier. “And don’t worry about cooking. I had the cook over at the main house pack up what he made for supper. Why don’t you set the table while I go wash up?”

He didn’t mention that he’d had to endure an interrogation and a stern lecture before old Silas finished loading the carrier with containers of food. A retired cowboy turned cook after his arthritis prevented him from doing ranch work, Silas Burrows had some definite ideas on how Blake should conduct his life and he didn’t mind sharing them every chance he got. Having a wife show up unexpectedly, one that Blake hadn’t told Silas about, definitely got the old boy started. As sure as the grass was green, Blake knew he hadn’t heard the end of what Silas had to say on the matter, either.

“I’ll have dinner on the table by the time you return,” she said as she started removing the food from the carrier to set it on the butcher-block island.

Blake watched her for a moment before he gritted his teeth and left the room. Karly had changed into a pair of khaki camp shorts and an oversize T-shirt while he was gone. She shouldn’t have looked the least bit appealing. But he’d be damned if just seeing her in the baggy shorts, shapeless shirt and bright pink flip-flops didn’t have him feeling as restless as a range-raised colt.

Disgusted with himself, he marched up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. How could he want a woman who had rejected him? Who had rejected his way of life and the land he loved?

Setting his backpack on the cedar chest at the end of the bed, he walked into the adjoining bathroom to wash up. As he splashed cold water on his face to clear his head, he couldn’t help but think about the irony of the situation.

When Karly called him a few days after they parted in Vegas to tell him that she had changed her mind about being his wife, she hadn’t even been willing to discuss coming to Wyoming in order to see if they could save their brief marriage. Yet almost nine months later, here she was—in the very place she said she never wanted to see—with papers to end the union.

But as he dried his face and hands with one of the fluffy towels from the linen cabinet, he couldn’t help but think there had to have been something that happened when she got back to Seattle that had caused her change of heart. But what could it have been? Was there someone else she hadn’t told him about? Maybe an old flame or someone she had been seeing before they met?

He’d asked himself the same questions a hundred times—and just as often told himself to forget about solving the mystery. He had no way of knowing what went through her head. And no reason to ask once she’d been determined to end things between them.