The Rancher's One-Week Wife. Kathie DeNoskyЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.
But now that Karly was here, he had a golden opportunity that was just too damn good to pass up. All he had to do was convince her to stay at the ranch a few days, until the strike in Denver was settled. That would give him time to ask her what had happened, to find out what had changed her mind and why.
It might not be the smartest thing he’d ever wanted to do. And he knew that whatever he found out wouldn’t change the state of their marriage; he’d already signed the papers and let her go. Hell, he’d probably be better off not knowing. And he certainly wasn’t expecting anything about him or his ranch to change her mind, even if he did learn the answer.
But some perverse part of him felt that it was his right to know why she’d refused to even try to make a go of things with him.
With his mind made up, Blake went back downstairs to the kitchen to help Karly set the table. “I’ve been thinking. It doesn’t make any sense for you to spend money on a motel room when you can stay here for free,” he pointed out as he got two glasses down from one of the cabinets.
“I can’t do that,” she said, looking at him like he had sprouted another head.
“Why not?” he asked, pouring them each a glass of iced tea from the thermal jug.
“I don’t want to impose,” she said, placing a container of country-fried steaks on the table.
“How would you staying here be an imposition?” He carried the glasses to the table, then held her chair for her to sit down. “We’re still married and the last time I heard, a husband and wife staying in the same house isn’t all that unusual,” he added, laughing.
“We’re not going to be married that much longer,” she insisted. “We’re practically divorced already.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged as he seated himself at the head of the table and reached for the container of steaks. “You’re still my wife and that gives you the right to stay here.”
“We really don’t know each other,” she said, taking a bite of a seasoned potato wedge.
“That didn’t seem to be a deal breaker when you said ‘I do,’” he pointed out, before he could stop himself. He felt like a prize ass when he saw the wounded expression on her pretty face.
She stared at him for several long moments before she shook her head. “I think it would be best if I get that motel room tomorrow as planned.”
“Look, I’m sorry about what I just said.” He took a deep breath. “That was out of line.”
She stared at him for a moment longer before she shook her head again. “Not entirely. We were both—” she paused, as if searching for the right words “—caught up in the moment in Las Vegas. And I don’t think one of us was more at fault than the other.”
Maybe she had been caught up in the moment, but he had known exactly what he was doing and the commitment he was making when he vowed to take care of her for the rest of their lives. But arguing that point wasn’t going to accomplish what he had set out to do.
“That’s all water under the bridge now,” he said, shrugging. “But if you stay here, I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable than in a motel room. And you won’t have to drive the mountain roads more than once to get back to the airport.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you being so persistent about this, Blake?”
“I figure it will save you a few hundred bucks or so,” he said, thinking quickly. She obviously had to watch her finances. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned that by filing the divorce herself instead of having a lawyer do it for her she was saving money. But he wasn’t going to point out that he knew she was on a tight budget. She had her pride, the same as he did, and bringing up the state of her financial situation would probably send her back down the mountain as fast as that little red car could take her. “Besides, staying here beats sitting in a motel room for several days with nothing to do but stare at the four walls.”
He almost groaned aloud when she nibbled on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said. She wasn’t trying to be seductive, but it seemed like everything about her had his libido working overtime. Maybe it was due to the memories of making love to her that haunted his dreams at night. Or, more likely, it was the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman since they’d parted ways in Las Vegas. Whatever the reason behind his overactive hormones, he had every intention of ignoring them.
“I suppose not having anything to do would be pretty boring,” she finally conceded. “But I wouldn’t have anything to do here, either.”
“Sure you would,” he said, careful not to sound too eager. “There’s never a lack of things to do around a ranch. You could help me feed the horses and a couple of orphaned calves. And tomorrow afternoon, you can ride up to the summer pasture with me to check on a herd of steers we’ll be moving back down here in a couple of weeks.”
“You mean ride a horse?” When he nodded, she vigorously shook her head. “That’s not an option.”
“Why?”
“Other than a pony ride at the grand opening of a grocery store when I was five, I’ve never been on a horse,” she said, taking a sip of her iced tea.
That explained her skittish reaction to Boomer when she’d first arrived. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got the perfect horse for you and it won’t take any time to teach you how to ride her.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she commented, reaching for a roll. “Horses don’t like me.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked. “You just admitted that you’ve never really been around horses. How would you know if they like you or not?”
She frowned. “Your horse snorted and stomped his foot at me this afternoon. If that wasn’t an indication he didn’t like me, I don’t know what is.”
“Hoof,” he countered, correcting her. “Horses have hooves and he was just shooing away a fly when he moved his leg.” Blake took a bite of his steak. “And for the record, Boomer didn’t snort. Gently blowing through his nose like that is a horse’s way of sighing. It signals that he’s relaxed, curious or in some cases just saying hello. Boomer was just being friendly.”
“His name doesn’t exactly instill a lot of confidence,” she said, shaking her head. “Boomer sounds rather...explosive.”
Blake laughed out loud at her inaccurate assumption that the gentle gelding’s name reflected his temperament. “Boomer is short for Boomerang and the reason he got that name is because he likes people so much he can’t stay away from them. I can turn him out into a pasture with other horses and before I know it, he turns around and comes right back to me.”
“That’s great, but it doesn’t mean he likes me,” she said, looking doubtful.
Blake grinned. “I’ll introduce you tomorrow morning when we go out to the barn to take care of the calves. You’ll see. He’s as gentle as a lapdog.”
She looked skeptical, but didn’t comment until they had finished their meal. “I can help you feed the babies, but I’m afraid riding