Winning the Rancher's Heart Read online

  “Sure beats gobbling down junk food alone,” Jeri muttered.

  “No doubt,” Ryder said.

  Not for the first time, he thought that she shouldn’t be out on the road traveling alone, but what could he do about it?

  He didn’t dare ponder that question for long. It was too soon for the thought circling around in the back of his mind. Too soon. Too tempting.

  And far too unlikely.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time they hit Ardmore city limits, they’d worked out all the details of moving Jeri’s horses and rig. Her excitement was palpable. Ryder didn’t think he’d ever seen her quite so relaxed. Even when she called Stark Burns to tell him she’d be moving the horses, she seemed easy and certain.

  “Dr. Burns didn’t sound particularly surprised,” Jeri reported after the phone call. “I think he might even have been relieved. He said moving the horses would make it easier for him to quarantine some cattle coming in from somewhere.”

  “It’s all working out for the best, then,” Ryder concluded.

  They stopped at a grocery store and picked up bread and cheese, as well as a few things Jeri said she’d need “for the road.”

  He hated to think about her leaving on Thursday, alone, towing a big trailer and horses, but he didn’t see what he could do about it. At least not in the short run.

  After the grocery store, they went to Tina’s favorite burger shop and walked inside to place the order. Ryder knew how everyone preferred their hamburgers except Jeri, so he had her order for herself, but then Jeri insisted on paying the tab, no matter how much he protested.

  “I ruined lunch. The least I can do is pay for dinner.”

  “Darlin’, it was just a few sandwiches.”

  She blinked at him, looking stunned. He couldn’t think why for several heartbeats. Then it hit him.

  Darling. Yow. How had that rolled off his tongue without him even thinking about it?

  She recovered before he did. “A few?” she scoffed, looking away. “I could’ve eaten for a month on the leftovers. If they’d been edible.”

  Ryder laughed and slung an arm about her shoulders in good-buddy fashion, aiming her toward the dining area. They sat down with sodas until the burgers were ready. After carrying the paper bags of food to the truck, he loaded them into the insulated bag, all but for one burger, with bacon and extra mustard, plus a cardboard container of French fries.

  Handing the keys to Jeri, he said, “You know where you’re going now. Besides, I intend to eat on the way home.”

  “No fair,” she complained, pretending to pout.

  He winked. “If you’re good, I’ll feed you fries.”

  Smiling, she climbed behind the steering wheel and adjusted the seat. Then she ate every fry he offered her on the way home, which was most of them.

  He was obsessed with her lips well before she pulled the truck into its customary space in the carport. He stepped into the cold evening air with a great sense of relief, and then, after he delivered the burgers, he bolted to the bunkhouse. He read late into the night, only to wake in the morning wondering if Jeri would slug him if he kissed her.

  He didn’t think she would, but he wouldn’t put it past her. She wouldn’t care a whit that he was twice her size, and his sore toes told him that she could hurt him if she wanted to.

  For some reason, that made him smile.

  * * *

  “You pretty.”

  Smiling, Jeri tapped the nose of Dean and Ann Pryor’s little daughter. “You’re pretty, too.”

  Glory giggled, her bright red head bobbing. Dean had apologized for bringing her along but claimed she wouldn’t be left behind. Apparently, the child was fascinated by Jeri’s hair. Sitting in Jeri’s lap at the kitchen table in the Loco Man ranch house, Glory repeatedly sifted the long, sleek locks through her chubby fingers. Personally, Ryder felt everyone kept underestimating Jeri Bogman. The word “pretty” didn’t begin to cover her beauty. The woman was breathtaking, especially on horseback.

  He filled a thermos with hot coffee and capped it, then began making another pot so it would be ready to brew when Kathryn came in.

  “Let’s go, curly top,” Dean instructed, holding out his arms to his daughter. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Glory shoved two fingers into her mouth and shook her head. “I shtay,” she insisted around her fingers.

  “How about I go with you?” Jeri suggested, rising and setting the child on her feet.

  Glory giggled around her fingers. “Yeth.”

  Jeri threw on her down coat. Ryder was still wearing his coat. He picked up the thermos and tucked it into the crook of one arm.

  “Let’s get to it.”

  Jeri rode with Dean and Glory in his one-ton truck. They pulled the tractor and its blades out to the pasture on its trailer. While she opened and closed the gate and walked the ground with Glory to determine the best place to plow, Dean off-loaded the tractor and attached the largest disc harrow. Ryder, meanwhile, stacked as many temporary metal fence sections into the bed of Wyatt’s truck as possible. Dean, with Glory in the cab next to him, was already churning up ground when Ryder arrived on the scene. Jeri hurried over to help him remove the fence sections.

  They didn’t have enough fencing to completely enclose the practice area, but Jeri said it would suffice.

  “We’ll mark off the corners and set up a small enclosure for the horses. Then we’ll place the rest of the fence sections even with the barrels so the horses can see them.”

  “Sounds good.”

  By the time they got the horse pen set up, Dean was cross-plowing the initial harrows with a smaller disc. After he finished that, Ryder helped him change the disc for a landscape rake. That gathered a few rocks, which Ryder pitched to one side. A second raking left the ground loamy and soft, but Dean worried that it would soon pack down again.

  “I brought a scoop for this thing,” he said, patting his tractor affectionately. “Seems like I remember a real sandy section off to the east there.”

  Ryder knew where Dean meant. It was about a quarter mile right down the fence line. He drove the truck while Dean followed in the tractor with the scoop on the front. Dean heaped the truck bed with sand, and Ryder drove it back to the practice area. Dean grabbed a shovel, stood in the bed of the truck, and threw out sand while Ryder slowly drove around the practice ground. Then Dean raked the ground twice more. Finally satisfied, he loaded the tractor back onto the trailer. When he came to take his leave of them, Glory riding on his hip, Jeri beamed all over him.

  “You could take up a sideline preparing rodeo arenas.”

  Dean chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he hugged his daughter. “Come on, curly top. Ganny’s waiting breakfast on us.”

  “Ganny?” Ryder echoed.

  “That’s what she calls my grandmother.”

  “Ah. Speaking of breakfast, I saw Kathryn and Jake arrive quite a while ago.” He motioned for Jeri to get into the truck. She hugged and kissed Glory first, then thanked Dean again.

  “Are you sure I can’t pay you for this?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll get you back eventually. Provided you hang around.”

  “She’s hanging,” Ryder said with more confidence than he truly felt. “She’s looking at properties now.”

  Dean smiled. “Well, then I’ll get to do this again.” He doffed his hat and carried Glory to his vehicle.

  Ryder and Jeri drove ahead of him to the gate and opened it, closing it again after Dean pulled his rig through. Dean waved and kept driving. Ryder and Jeri followed as far as the house, where they parked beneath the carport and got out.

  Even Wyatt was at the table when they went inside. Twisting sideways, he draped an arm over the back of his chair, looking at them.

  “Well?”

  Jeri smiled. “
It’s wonderful. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He lifted his eyebrows and went back to his plate. “A real practice arena needs a cover. Otherwise, you’ll have Dean reworking it constantly.”

  “I’ll worry about that later,” Jeri said. Ryder hung his coat on the wall, and she covered it with hers. “Right now I’ve got to think about getting ready for Denver.” She picked an empty peg and hung up her hat. Ryder left his on the little table beneath.

  “Soon as I eat, we’ll take care of my horses, then go get yours,” Ryder promised, ushering her toward the table.

  As they sat down, Jake relaxed back in his chair, having finished his meal, and crossed his legs. Kathryn, who never seemed to sit, came over and refilled his coffee cup while Ryder and Jeri filled their plates.

  “Thank you, honey.” Jake looped an arm around Kathryn’s waist and pulled her close, sipping his coffee. Ryder couldn’t help grinning even as he tucked into his food, so naturally Jake had to tease him. “You oughta consider getting’ one of these for yourself, little brother.”

  Ryder looked up, brow wrinkling. “One of what?”

  “Wives.” He looked at Kathryn, who blushed furiously and rolled her eyes. “They’re sweet things to have around.”

  “Keep it up and you’ll have hot coffee in your lap,” Wyatt warned, splitting a look between Jake and Kathryn. Jeri, Ryder noticed, folded her hands in her lap and stayed silent.

  “That’s your wife, not mine,” Jake quipped, smiling up at Kathryn.

  “And don’t you forget it!” Tina shouted from the bedroom.

  “Remind me to close that door,” Wyatt drawled, while everyone laughed. Everyone but Ryder.

  Jake finally realized he might have gone too far. He sat up straight, laying his forearms flat against the tabletop.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, Ryder. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was only teasing.”

  “I know,” Ryder said as lightly as he could manage.

  “Then what’s wrong?” Wyatt demanded, glancing at Jeri.

  “Nothing,” Ryder tried.

  “Something’s wrong,” Jake said. It was the gentle tone that made Ryder venture an explanation.

  “It’s just that...after what happened, I—I don’t see myself finding anyone who...” He was painfully aware of Jeri watching him. “I just don’t think it’s very likely that I’ll marry.”

  “Yeah, I that thought, too,” Jake drawled. “Twice. Thankfully, I was wrong both times.”

  “But you didn’t—” Ryder broke off, because, in addition to Jeri, both boys were at the table. He could practically see their ears twitching.

  Kathryn seemed to follow his train of thought. She set down the coffee carafe and pulled out Frankie’s chair. “Go upstairs now. I’ll bring you a treat in a little while.”

  “You, too, Ty,” Wyatt said so implacably the boy didn’t even argue. Tyler just slipped off his chair, took Frankie by the hand and left the room.

  Ryder wanted to say that the boys could stay, that the subject was closed, but he knew from long experience that wasn’t going to work.

  As soon as they heard the boys clomping up the stairs, Wyatt spoke again, keeping his voice low and pecking the tabletop with a fingertip for emphasis. “You did not kill that boy.”

  “Wyatt, please.”

  “And you need to stop acting like it.”

  “He died,” Ryder whispered, “that’s all I know.”

  “You’re talking about Bryan,” Jeri suddenly blurted, and Ryder squeezed his eyes closed. He had so hoped that subject was forgotten between them. He should’ve known better.

  “He told you about that?” Jake asked. “Then you know it wasn’t his fault.”

  “Bryan was the one who wouldn’t let it go,” Wyatt put in. “He was the one who insisted on trying, over and over again.”

  “He just wanted to break the hold,” Ryder argued miserably. “I—I should’ve let him beat it.”

  “You’d never have let him go into a fight believing he could break that hold,” Jake stated flatly. “As juiced up as that kid was, someone would’ve gotten hurt, and you know it.”

  “Yes, but—” Ryder began, only to have Jeri interrupt.

  “Juiced up? What does that mean?”

  “Steroids,” Jake answered bluntly. “Lots of these young hotheads think that’s the way to break into professional matches, but it actually works against them. You’ve got to have a cool head to figure your way out of some situations in a fight.”

  “Steroids make you lose your temper,” Wyatt explained. “Big muscles aren’t the key, anyway. You’ve got to have skill and endurance, as well as smarts.”

  “How do you know he was using steroids?” Jeri demanded in a strangled voice.

  “The autopsy showed it.”

  She gasped. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s in the report. There’s a whole page listing the stuff they found in his system.”

  “A whole page,” Jeri repeated softly.

  “Mostly supplements,” Ryder said. He hated to hear Bryan blamed for what had happened. Bryan had died. That was bad enough without dragging his memory through the dirt.

  “And a whopping load of steroids,” Wyatt added doggedly. “You suspected it for weeks and talked yourself blue in the face, trying to make him see reason.”

  “For all the good it did,” Ryder mumbled. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should’ve turned him in or refused to spar with him.”

  “And how would you prove he was using? How would you keep him from finding someone else to spar with? You did everything you could,” Wyatt insisted.

  Jeri lifted a hand to her mouth, seeming deeply moved. She took several slow breaths and asked, “What happened exactly?”

  She sounded rung out, as appalled as Ryder had feared she would be. He couldn’t answer her. Instead, Jake spilled the whole ugly story.

  “They were sparring, practicing. Ryder was showing Bryan a new hold, and Bryan couldn’t break it, no matter what he tried. He lost his temper. Ryder tried to call a halt, but Bryan was in a frenzy. Ryder tried to calm him, but Bryan maneuvered his way around until he could climb the wall, literally walked right up it, facing the ceiling, with Ryder holding his upper body.”

  Wyatt picked up the story. “Ryder couldn’t release Bryan without dropping him, and they were off the mat, nothing but concrete floor beneath them. Bryan tried to throw himself backward over Ryder’s head. His neck snapped.”

  “I heard it,” Ryder whispered. Over and over again he heard the awful sound of bones and ligaments snapping in his dreams. How could he not? Ryder supposed that Bryan had intended to land on his feet behind him, but instead Bryan’s neck had snapped against Ryder’s shoulder. “He was gone in an instant. I couldn’t hold him up.” He’d tried. Somehow, in the moment, it had seemed that if he could just get Bryan on his feet, he’d be okay, but Bryan had collapsed like a marionette when the strings are cut.

  “I suppose you can prove this,” Jeri said, tensed as if she had to work to keep herself in her seat.

  Wyatt responded. “We’ve got the tape of the practice session, almost an hour’s worth, the autopsy report, the police reports, witness statements.”

  “I’ve always wondered what an autopsy report was like,” she said, sounding anything but curious. “How long it might be, for instance.”

  “This one is several pages,” Wyatt told her in a puzzled tone.

  “Several pages,” Jeri mumbled. “Makes sense.”

  “The important thing,” Jake put in testily, “is that Ryder was completely exonerated. By everyone but himself.”

  “You know that’s not so,” Ryder retorted.

  “What Ryder means is that Bryan’s family blames him,” Wyatt explained, holding up a hand to stop the exclamation on the tip of Ryder’s tongue. �
�Which is entirely understandable. But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

  Jeri abruptly shot to her feet. “I should go.”

  Dismayed, Ryder looked up at her. Her face seemed set in stone, and his heart dropped as if it were made of the same stuff.

  “I—I mean, I should get to work. We should...” Rushing to the door, she grabbed her coat and hat and went out.

  Glumly, his appetite gone, Ryder got to his feet and followed, slapping his hat on his head and plucking his coat off the peg on the wall. He moved slowly, in no rush to face the woman he’d find outside. She would be cold now in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. She would be stiff and unfriendly, her warm brown gaze never quite meeting his again. Deep in his heart, he lamented the loss of that impish glimmer in her eyes, the silent respect and approval as they worked the horses.

  Within the space of a single breath, he stepped outside and realized how wrong he could be. She wasn’t cold. She was hot, as in livid.

  “Stupid, macho, selfish...”

  Ryder hung his head. “I should’ve let him break the hold. But he’d never lost his temper that badly before. He’d get steamed, yeah, but he never went crazy like that day. I was just trying to help him learn the hold. I wasn’t trying to—”

  “Not you!” she interrupted. “Bryan! He took a stupid, macho, selfish risk. What about his family, the people who loved him? Didn’t he think of them?”

  Weak with relief, Ryder took her fists into his hands. “Don’t be upset.”

  “It’s just...” She relaxed her fingers, looking down at them. “My brother was the same way, and it cost him his life.”

  Ryder couldn’t help himself. Dropping her hands, he wrapped his arms around her, elated when she pressed herself against him.

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Ryder urged softly. “Young men think they’re invincible. What seems foolish to everyone else often seems well worth the risk to a young fellow feeling strong and courageous.”