Winning the Rancher's Heart Page 10

  After the requisite runs, Jeri cooled down the young mare herself and brought her into the corral, where Ryder waited to unsaddle and start grooming the animal. Jeri grabbed a brush and helped him, saying that it helped her stretch her muscles after all that time on horseback. Glancing at his watch, Ryder yelped.

  “Yow! We’re going to be late for dinner!”

  Where had the time gone?

  Jeri grabbed Betty’s reins and led her toward the barn, saying, “I’d be at this for another two hours if not for you.” She turned a smile over her shoulder, her big brown eyes shining. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure,” he told her, following along behind her. Then he stuck his hands into his pockets and kept them there while she stabled Betty and finished up. Smiling benignly, he maintained a healthy distance all the way to the truck. As she drove them back to the Loco Man, he turned his gaze out the window. Only when they were safely inside the house, sitting down to dinner with the family, did he relax his guard. He ate and chatted and talked with the others, describing the practice session to them.

  And every moment his hands itched to reach for her.

  * * *

  Later that night, Jeri sat at the kitchen table, her stocking feet peeking out under pajamas and a long, knit bathrobe, sipping a cup of cocoa and mulling over her afternoon with Ryder. He’d been a huge help, seeming to know instinctively what needed to be done when. She’d heard snatches of him talking to the horses.

  “Should’ve called you Pegasus. You love to fly, don’t you, boy? Keep those rear feet in line, and won’t be a horse out there that can beat you.”

  “You’re just a sweetheart, aren’t you?” he’d said to Star. “Hungry to please, with the dexterity and speed to do it. Any racer would be happy to have you.”

  Betty got a bit of a scold but an affectionate one. “What a flirt! Showing off for everyone and everything. But you put your nose to business, my lady, and you’ll be unbeatable.”

  Jeri had even caught him whispering to Dovie. “That’s okay, big mama. You’ll be back out there, and you’ll have a beautiful new baby that’ll set all kinds of records. Think on that.”

  Jeri smiled at the memories. He talked to her horses the same way she did. Being on horseback always made her feel better about everything, and she happily went over the workout with each horse in her mind. Deep down, though, she knew it was all just an exercise in avoidance. She didn’t even want the cocoa in her cup, but every time she thought about trying to sleep, her mind turned to that moment in Ryder’s arms when he’d been about to kiss her. Why she hadn’t pulled away, she didn’t know, but thank God that Dovie had saved her from making a horrible mistake. She could only imagine what Ryder’s kiss would be like, but she very much feared that the real thing would be her doom.

  Wyatt came into the room and smiled at Jeri. “Tina’s just finished her stretches. She’s doing them before every meal and at bedtime. I hope that’s not excessive.”

  Jeri shook her head. “They’re basically no impact. I can’t imagine doing too many. For me, it’s a matter of schedule, frankly. I simply don’t always have the time to go through the full routine.”

  “Well, just having something to do has helped Tina immensely. Thank you for thinking of them and teaching her how to do them.” He rubbed his hands together, looking around the room. “Any more of that cocoa?”

  “No, but I’ll gladly make you a cup. It’s just a packet mixed with milk.”

  “Sounds better than what Tina sent me in here for. Chamomile tea.” He grimaced.

  “Not exactly your beverage of choice, I take it.”

  Smiling, he looked down at his stocking feet. “Definitely not my, ahem, cup of tea.”

  Jeri laughed and got up from the table. “You make the chamomile, I’ll make the cocoa.” She pulled another packet from the pocket of her robe. He grinned and agreed.

  While she filled a mug with cold milk and stirred in the powdered contents of the packet, Wyatt dropped a tea bag into a cup, filled it with hot tap water and carried it to the microwave. By tacit agreement, they placed both cups in the oven, and Wyatt set the timer.

  “That ought to do it.”

  While the drinks heated, he went to the pantry for honey. After steeping the tea for several minutes, he removed the bag and squeezed honey into the hot liquid. As he stirred it, he glanced at Jeri. Then he took his own drink in hand and tasted it.

  “Mmm. Good.”

  She finished off her cup and set it in the sink. “I like it.”

  To her surprise, he leaned a hip against the counter and looked her square in the eye.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Fearing the worst, she felt her heart stutter, but she managed a nonchalant nod. “Of course.”

  “Do you like my brother?”

  Wishing she could derail that question, she thought about asking which brother, but that would be silly, so she took a deep breath and gave him the truth. “I do. Quite a lot, actually.”

  “You need to know something about him then.”

  Jeri’s first thought was Bryan. Was it possible Wyatt was going to tell her what Ryder would or could not bring himself to say?

  Feigning nonchalance, she rinsed her cup with cold water and left it in the sink. “What’s that?”

  He waited until she faced him again before he said, “Ryder’s not like most men. He loves with his whole heart, his whole being. And once he gives his love, he’ll never take it back, never stop. I don’t think he can. Our dad couldn’t.”

  This was not what Jeri had expected, but she was relieved for some reason. “Ryder told me about your mom and dad.”

  “Losing my mother killed my father,” Wyatt told her. “It was a long-drawn-out death, but he always said he’d go through it all again, even losing her, for the time he’d had with her.”

  “Losing a mate can be devastating,” Jeri said softly. “My mother’s been widowed twice, and I don’t think she’s ever really recovered from either loss.”

  “That’s tough. Jake’s first wife died, you know, and we wondered if he would fall in love again. I’m glad he did. But there will never be a second time for Ryder,” Wyatt stated flatly. “He’ll get one shot at happily-ever-after. Just one. That’s how he’s made.” Shifting, Wyatt folded his arms. “What I’m telling you is this. I know my brother, and loving the wrong woman will kill him.”

  So, there was her solution, Jeri thought, suddenly weary. If she truly wanted to punish Ryder Smith, all she had to do was make him fall in love with her.

  And destroy them both in the process.

  * * *

  Jeri intentionally went down to breakfast late the next morning and ate alone. She wasn’t ready to see Ryder yet, or maybe she just wasn’t ready to decide what she was going to do about him. While she tended her horses, though, she realized that keeping her distance wasn’t going to help, so she went back to Loco Man and searched for him. He wasn’t in the ranch house, but Kathryn told her that he hadn’t gone to Jake’s mechanic shop that morning, so Jeri trooped out to the barn. No Ryder. That left the bunkhouse.

  He answered the door wearing shorts and a sleeveless tank top, mopping his face with the towel draped about his neck. Her eyes popped at the size and definition of his muscles. Behind him stood an enormous weight machine and a treadmill crammed into what was meant to be a small living area.

  He greeted her with a nod of his chin. “Hey.”

  “You’re working out.” Duh.

  “Yeah. I work out every day. Well, most days. I’m usually done long before now, but I overslept this morning.”

  “That makes two of us.” She pointedly looked behind him. “So, you walk and lift weights?”

  “Run,” he corrected. “I run three days a week, four miles a day, and lift three days a week. I take Sundays off.”

  “I guess
the treadmill is the way to go with this weather.”

  He nodded. “No one tells you how cold it gets around here. I got the treadmill for Christmas. I like it more than I expected to.”

  Jeri nodded. No wonder he was in such good shape. “All I do is stretch and ride.”

  He smiled, his gaze sliding over her. “It obviously works well for you.”

  Her mouth fell open at the compliment. He seemed as shocked as she felt.

  Quickly, he ducked his head and backed out of the door, mumbling, “Want to come in? The house is getting cold.”

  She followed him inside. “Thanks.” Looking around, she thought how Spartan and utilitarian the place was. No wonder he spent so much time at the big house. “I was hoping we could come to an agreement, you and I.”

  “Oh, about what?”

  She felt a little embarrassed about even asking, but it was the perfect solution. “You were so much help yesterday. I never realized... I mean, I’ve always worked alone.”

  “Well, you obviously know what you’re doing.”

  “I had good instruction.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but instruction is only part of it. You have a passion for your horses and a passion for your sport. You’re obviously called to it.”

  “Called to it? I don’t know what you mean.”

  He tilted his head. “Pastors and missionaries aren’t the only ones called by God to a specific profession or occupation. I firmly believe that Wyatt is called to ranching. It’s like everything that came before was all in preparation for now, for Loco Man. Jake, too. Wyatt was upset, worried, when Jake enlisted, but I always had a real peace about it. Whatever happened, I knew he was called to that life. He and his wife were perfectly suited for the military. When she was killed and he had to give it up to take care of Frankie, we all trusted that God was calling him to something else, and now we know what that is.”

  “He was called to be a mechanic?”

  “Yep. And he’ll do a world of good through it, too. I’m convinced of it. You don’t know how many times he’s fixed cars at deep discount. Or for free. That’s how he and Kathryn fell in love. He rebuilt the engine of her car after he found her stranded on the side of the road.”

  “And you, what are you called to?” Jeri asked.

  Ryder shook his head. “I don’t know. I used to think...” He passed a hand over his heart. “Well. What’s got me on my knees right now is the idea of a horse farm. I’ve been wondering, though, if it should be about raising and training horses. Maybe what I should really be thinking about is rescuing.”

  Blinking, Jeri gasped, “Rescuing horses?”

  He nodded. “I hate the idea of any animal being put down because no one can be bothered with it anymore. A horse, or any animal, that’s given what was asked of it, even if that’s just companionship, should be afforded a good life to its end. Don’t you think?”

  Jeri sighed. This man was no killer. He might have made some wrong choices that resulted in Bryan’s death, but he hadn’t intentionally hurt her brother. The things he’d just said couldn’t have come from the brutal murderer she’d imagined him to be.

  That, or he somehow knew that rescuing horses was the unspoken reason behind her drive to establish herself and earn income.

  When the time for Dovie to retire had approached, Jeri had begun dreaming about a way to keep the mare. She couldn’t bring herself to turn over the horse to someone who might not take care of her and afford her the long, active life she deserved. Feeding and maintaining horses didn’t come cheap, though. Jeri couldn’t support more than one horse that didn’t earn its keep. After all, she could only compete so many times a year, and barrel racing was an expensive endeavor. She didn’t have enough property in Texas to simply turn Dovie out to pasture, and she couldn’t afford to hire help, but she’d reasoned that if she could raise and train just one superior horse, she’d gain enough of a reputation to expand. That notion had given her the idea for her cover story when she’d come looking for Ryder.

  What if she could actually make it happen, though? And what if she could do it without buying land? Loco Man Ranch was enormous. There ought to be a part of it that could be set aside for horses. Then she and Ryder could...

  She shook her head. Even imagining a partnership with Ryder Smith was ludicrous. Insane.

  Dangerous.

  And oh, so tempting.

  Chapter Nine

  “Listen,” Ryder said. “I’m going to put on warmer clothes. There’s a chair in that corner. Have a seat. Back in a few.”

  Jeri wandered over to the chair as he left the room, fighting with herself. Deciding that Ryder was no killer was one thing; considering him as a business partner was something else entirely. Her mother would likely never speak to her again if she made such an arrangement with him. But then, her mother wasn’t going to be pleased with Jeri’s conclusions, anyway. Still, how could she go into business with the man responsible—even indirectly—for her brother’s death?

  His cell phone lay on the padded arm of the chair, just begging to be picked up. Grimacing, Jeri briefly closed her eyes. She did not want to touch that thing. She wanted, surprisingly, to simply drop this whole quest, but then she thought of her mother. Her mom was all she had left. Jeri couldn’t lose her, too. Besides, if Ryder didn’t intentionally hurt Bryan, nothing and no one was going to prove he had.

  Groaning inwardly, Jeri snatched up the little phone and dropped down onto the cushioned seat of the armchair. To her shock, the phone wasn’t even locked. Who didn’t lock their phones these days? Maybe this was a sign that she should keep digging.

  Quickly she scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t have many, and he’d nicknamed them with monikers like Trainer, Dietician, Instructor, Medic. She shared any that seemed appropriate with her private investigator, sending the contacts directly from Ryder’s phone. One or more of them might have been present that fateful day, or maybe they’d heard something that could be followed up. She went on to the photos, hoping to find an unedited video of that sparring match. If she could just see the full video, she might be able to put this whole ordeal to rest.

  A door opened somewhere in the back of the small building, and footsteps sounded on the bare floor. She dropped the phone right back where she’d found it. Grabbing a framed photo on a shelf in the bookcase behind the chair, she pretended to study it.

  “That’s my family when I was tiny,” Ryder said as soon as he entered the room, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

  Frowning, she glanced between him and the photo. She saw an attractive couple standing in front of a small, nondescript house with two little boys and a dog. Thinking that one of the brothers was absent, she said, “I guess the youngest one is you.”

  Grinning, he walked over and tapped the photo of the woman’s abdomen. “That’s me right there.” Jeri raised her eyebrows, and Ryder laughed. “That was taken in August. I was born the following February.”

  “The second,” she added reflexively.

  This time, his eyebrows went up.

  “Uh, it’s been discussed,” she muttered. This wasn’t the first time she’d made the mistake of revealing that she knew his birthdate.

  His smile flattened. “I hope the family isn’t planning anything major.”

  “I’m not sure what they’re planning,” Jeri admitted. “Don’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”

  “Yeah, I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “How come?”

  Shrugging, he took the photo from her hands and ran a fingertip over the glass. “Mom always made a big deal out of our birthdays.” He set the photo on the shelf and went to sit on the weight bench. “Hasn’t been the same since she died.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She fell off a ladder while cleaning an air vent.”

  “M
y biological dad was killed in a fall, too.”

  Ryder shook his head. “She separated her ankle, that’s all. But it was real painful, and she turned out to be allergic to the pain pills they sent home with her from the emergency room.”

  “Are you saying the pain med killed her?”

  “That’s right. Anaphylactic shock. We all thought she was resting. She died in her sleep.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Dad blamed himself because he insisted she take the pills and get into bed while he made dinner.”

  “But how could he know?”

  “He couldn’t,” Ryder agreed. “No one knew that she was allergic, not even her. I think he stopped blaming himself finally, but he never got over finding her like that.”

  “It must have been awful.”

  Ryder nodded. “I didn’t see her, but I heard Wyatt say she was all swollen and blotchy. That stuck with me. As a kid, I just couldn’t make myself take medicine. I still have a hard time even swallowing an aspirin.”

  So much for the idea that Ryder was abusing steroids. What were the odds that a man whose mom had died like that, a man who had to talk himself into swallowing over-the-counter pain relievers, would succumb to the lure of an illegal drug? Jeri just couldn’t believe it.