The Rancher's Housekeeper. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
her pack for a pillow, she curled on her right side and covered up, still in shock that tonight the only roof she had over her head was a canopy of stars. She picked out the Big Dipper. Venus was the bright star to the west.
Heaven.
“Come on, Titus. Time to go home.”
Colt shut the barn door. The border collie raced ahead of him with more energy than he knew what to do with. Titus led a dog’s perfect life. He was loved. He ran and worked all day, ate the food he wanted and had no worries. That’s why he went to sleep deliriously happy and woke up happy.
As for Colt, he wouldn’t describe himself happy in the delirious sense. He’d been in that state only one time. Falling in love at twenty-one had been easy when you’d been on the steer-wrestling circuit, winning prize money and dazzling your girl.
It was the happily-ever-after part he didn’t have time to work on before she wanted out because a married man had ranching duties and she wasn’t having fun anymore. Their eleven-month marriage had to have been some kind of record for the shortest one in Crook County, Wyoming.
At thirty-four years of age now, he recognized his mistake. They’d been too young and immature. It simply didn’t work. Since then he’d dated women from time to time, but unless he met one who enriched the busy life he already led, he didn’t see himself in a rush to get married again.
Suddenly the dog switched directions away from the ranch house, barking his head off. He hadn’t gone far when he made that low growling sound that let Colt know they had an intruder on the property. Whether animal or human he couldn’t tell yet.
As he hurried to catch up, he heard a woman’s voice say, “Easy, boy,” trying her best to soothe the black-and-white beast who’d hunted her down. He weighed only forty-five pounds, but in the dark his terrifying growl had clearly made her nervous.
Closer now, Colt could see why. The female on her feet beneath their granddaddy’s ponderosa was wrapped in a space blanket that covered her head. She probably couldn’t see anything. Enveloped like that, she presented a tall silhouette to Titus who couldn’t quite make her out. Any mystery caused the dog to bark with much more excitement.
Against the trunk Colt glimpsed a brand-new road bike. Next to her feet he saw a backpack. “Quiet, Titus,” he commanded the dog, who made a keening sound for having to obey and walked over to Colt.
If she was a nature lover, she was going about it the wrong way. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Thank you for calling him off. He startled me.” She had an appealing voice. The fact that she didn’t sound hysterical came as another surprise.
“What in the devil do you think you’re doing sleeping out here in the dark?” The women of his acquaintance wouldn’t have dreamed of doing anything so foolhardy. “Any animal could bother you, especially a mountain lion on the prowl.”
She pulled the edges of the blanket tighter. The motion revealed her face. “I got here too late to disturb anyone, so I thought I’d rest under the tree.”
“You came to this ranch specifically?”
“Yes, but I realize I’m trespassing. I’m sorry.”
Her apology sounded genuine and she spoke in a cultured voice. What in blazes? He was taken aback by the whole situation. After a glimpse into hauntingly lovely eyes that gave him no answers, he took in a quick breath before picking up her backpack. It was unexpectedly light and had seen better days.
“For whatever reason you’ve come, I can’t allow you to stay out here. Leave the bike and follow me. It’ll be safe where it is.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
She’d already done a good job of it and had gotten his attention in a big way, but that was beside the point. “Nevertheless, you’ll have to come with me. Let’s go.”
The three of them made an odd trio as they entered the back door of the house. He showed her through the mudroom, past the bathroom to the kitchen. Titus headed for his bowls of food and water. After that he would go to his bed in the den. Colt’s father had been gone a long time, but Colt had a hunch the loyal dog was still waiting for his return. Maybe Titus wasn’t that happy after all.
Colt put the woman’s backpack by one of the kitchen chairs. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her remove the space blanket. She was tall, probably five foot nine. He’d thought it might be the blanket above her head that had added the inches. After folding it, she laid it on the oblong wood table, then took off her insubstantial parka. He imagined she was in her mid-twenties.
Except for white sneakers, everything she wore, from her jeans to her long-sleeved navy crew neck, looked well-worn and hung off her. The clothes must have originally been bought for a larger woman. Her brunette hair had been pulled back with an elastic in an uninspiring ponytail. No makeup, no jewelry.
He thought he might have seen her before and tried to imagine her features and figure with a little more flesh on her. Had she been ill? In profile or frontal view, her mouth looked too drawn, the hollows in her cheeks too pronounced, but the fact still remained he felt an unwanted attraction.
Two physical characteristics about her were remarkable. Great bone structure and eyes of inky blue. They looked disturbingly sad as they peered at him through lashes as dark as her brows and hair. Why sad, he couldn’t begin to imagine.
If she’d been running away from a traumatic situation, she bore no bruises or wounds he could see. She stood there proud and unafraid, reminding him of an unfinished painting that needed more work before she came to full life. That in itself added an intriguing element.
“You’re welcome to use the bathroom we just passed.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that. Please excuse me.”
After she disappeared, he walked over to the counter, bemused by her femininity. She’d been endowed with more of it than most women.
Hank had made a fresh pot of coffee and had probably gone to their mother’s bedroom to sit with her for a while. As Colt reached for a couple of mugs from the shelf, his intruder returned. He told her to sit down. “I can offer coffee. Would you like some, or does tea sound better?”
“Coffee, please.”
Colt poured two cups. “Sugar? Cream?” he called over his shoulder.
“Please don’t go to any trouble. Black is fine.”
He doctored both and brought them to the table where she’d sat down at the end. “I laced yours anyway. You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”
“You’re right. Thank you, Mr….”
“Colt Brannigan.” He drank some of his coffee.
She cradled the cup. With her eyes closed, she took several sips, almost as if she were making a memory. This puzzled him. He stood looking down at her until she’d finished it. In his opinion she needed a good square meal three times a day for the foreseeable future.
“How about telling me who you are.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, still heavy from fatigue. “Geena Williams.” This time he thought he remembered that name from somewhere, too. Eventually it would come to him.
“Well, Geena—perhaps if I made you a ham sandwich, more information might be forthcoming about where you’ve come from and why you showed up on our property.”
“Please forgive me. I’m still trying to wake up.” He’d never heard anyone sound more apologetic. She got to her feet. “I was just freed from the women’s prison in Pierre, South Dakota, today and came all the way to your ranch. I’d hoped to interview for the live-in housekeeper position for a temporary period of time, but it took longer for me to get here than I’d supposed.”
With those words, Colt felt as if he’d