Wyoming Heart Page 9

  Cort chuckled. “Of all the coincidences,” he murmured.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  He couldn’t tell her that and maintain his masquerade. His minor was military history. “I like Patton and Rommel,” he said instead.

  “World War II, African theater of war,” she said, nodding.

  “You know about that, too?”

  “It was a gentleman’s war, in North Africa,” she said. “One of my great-great-uncles died there, fighting with Patton’s Third Army.”

  “One of mine as well,” Cort said.

  They were staring at each other without realizing it. Mina’s heart rate shot up and her breath caught in her throat. Cort was feeling something similar and fighting it tooth and nail. This sweet little country kid would never fit into his lifestyle, even if he let himself care about her. He had to remember that. Yes, he wanted to get married. But he was realistic enough to know that he had to have a partner with a similar background. In his case, it would have to be a wealthy background.

  So he dragged his eyes away from Mina’s face and turned to his cousin. “I’m going to ride over and help your men fix that broken fence near the highway, if that’s okay with you?” he added, living up to his cowboy image.

  “Sure. I’ve got a few calls to make, then I’ll ride over and help.”

  Cort chuckled. “We’ll be done by then.”

  “Son of a gun,” Bart mused. “I’ll miss all that fun work. I do love digging postholes and stretching fencing wire.”

  “Liar,” Mina said in a loud whisper.

  He just laughed. Cort smiled, but not at Mina, and rode off without another look in her direction. She pretended not to notice, of course.

  * * *

  BART HAD MEANT to tell Cort that Mina was his novelist friend. But the longer he waited to do it, the less he wanted to. Cort was a rounder. He loved women, plural, and he was still seeing Ida Merridan, the divorcée he’d met at the Simpsons’ party. Mina was naive and it was obvious to Bart that she was attracted to Cort.

  Right now, Cort thought Mina was just a country girl with a small ranch. He’d mentioned to Bart that she’d never be able to hold her own in high social circles. He wasn’t sure she’d even know which utensils to use in a fancy restaurant. Obviously, he’d added, she wasn’t the sort of woman he could consider settling down with. He did want to get married and have a family, he murmured. He was just less certain now that he was ready for that responsibility. He was free to date any woman he liked, he had no restrictions on his travel, he wasn’t tied down to the ranch unless he wanted to be. He had all the advantages and none of the disadvantages. In short, he didn’t want to give up his freedom for a marriage that might not even work.

  “I thought you were all gung-ho on getting married and having kids,” Bart teased as they sat around in the living room after supper drinking second cups of coffee.

  “I was,” he replied somberly. “Then I started looking for the perfect woman and I discovered that they were all looking for the richest man.” He gave Bart a droll look. “A woman who puts money before anything else isn’t going to want to settle down with a husband and babies who need changing.”

  “Good point.”

  Cort’s eyes were wistful. “My illusions left jet trails taking off,” he said. “I was sure it would be easy to find a nice woman who wanted a family. The problem was that every woman I dated saw me as a walking checkbook.”

  “You’re rich.”

  “I noticed,” Cort said, glowering at his cousin.

  Bart grinned. “That’s my great advantage. I’m not rich. Any woman who wanted to settle down with me would know she wasn’t looking at diamonds and Ferraris.”

  Cort nodded. “Believe me, that’s a real advantage.”

  “A week from Friday night, there’s a square dance in town at the civic center. You going?” he asked.

  Cort stuck his hands in his pockets. “I might take Ida.”

  Bart felt a sense of relief, although it was going to mark his cousin as a man with few morals in a town the size of Catelow. Everybody knew about Ida.

  Cort noticed his companion’s expression. “She isn’t quite what she seems,” he said.

  Bart just smiled. “It isn’t what people really are in small towns, Cort. It’s what people think they are. Ida has a scarlet reputation.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cort chuckled. “Nobody’s going to say bad things about you because I date her.”

  “I know that.”

  He cocked his head and his eyes narrowed. “Your neighbor. She has a real issue with men.”

  Bart nodded. “She’s had a hard life. At least her cousin kept the ranch going. Her mother tried several times to sell it for ready cash. Rogan stopped her.”

  “What was her mother like?” he asked.

  He smiled. “Like Ida, except that she didn’t have Ida’s looks.”

  He scowled. “She was divorced?”

  “Her husband never divorced her. He just left. A visiting socialite fell in love with his uniform and seduced him into leaving Anthea. So Anthea took it out on Mina. We all lost count of how many men moved in with them. Mina used to hide out in the woods...well, that’s all in the past.”

  “She’s afraid of men.”

  “Yes.”

  “No hot dates?” Cort asked with a faint smile.

  “No dates. Ever.”

  He scowled. “Ever?”

  “She doesn’t want to take the risk,” Bart told him. “She said some of her mother’s boyfriends seemed nice until the doors were closed.”

  He was recalling that Ida had said that about her second husband. Cort had never raised his hand to a woman. Neither had his father or any of his brothers. But there had been such a man, a neighbor, whose wife had run screaming into the road, bleeding and horrified. A passing motorist had stopped and given her a ride into town, to the sheriff’s office. The husband had been arrested and charged, and ended up in jail.

  “I guess some people are harder to know than others,” he conceded. “But I don’t need to hit a woman to feel like a man. And I have a very low opinion of men who do.”

  “So does our cousin Cody,” Bart chuckled. “He took a domestic call one Saturday night when all his deputies were tied up. A three-year-old boy had bruises all over him. His mother was bleeding and crying and her husband was drunk and aggressive and tried to fight Cody.”

  “That would have been interesting to see,” Cort mused.

  “It truly was. Cody made the man walk every step of the way to town and threw every charge he could think of at him. There was this really avid public defender who thought he could come in here to circuit court and throw his weight around.” He whistled.

  “He learned some things, including some brand-new words that Cody taught him after the man’s client was sent to jail for five years.”

  “Hardly sounds like enough,” Cort murmured.

  “I’m not finished. He got five years on two of the felony counts. But it seems that he was on parole for an assault that he served time for. After he serves the five years here, he goes to Montana to serve the parole violation. Cody made sure he would.”

  Cort chuckled. “Our cousin is a bad man to rile.”

  “Yes, he is.” He cocked his head and smiled at Cort. “He’s not the only one.”

  Cort just shook his head. He looked at Bart curiously. “How old is Mina?”

  “Twenty-four,” he said. “But she looks younger, doesn’t she?”

  “A lot younger.” He was surprised at her age. Bart seemed to think that she had no interest in men, but he couldn’t believe that a woman could be innocent at the age of twenty-four. Surely she’d had some experiences that Bart didn’t know about. He laughed to himself. Mina Michaels was probably as experienced and jaded as he was and didn’t like men becau
se she’d had her fill of them. Innocence in this day and age was a joke, he was absolutely sure of it. And Mina, whatever else she was, was no innocent.

  * * *

  MINA WAS INTERVIEWING men for the full-time position on her ranch. She wasn’t happy about having to do it, or about the applicants themselves. She had an attorney’s investigator running background checks on the men. Two had been fired for stealing from their employers, although the ranchers hadn’t been able to prove it. Another was wanted for child custody payments that he’d been dodging.

  Out of the five contenders, only one stood out. He was an older man with thinning gray hair and dark brown eyes. He looked as if he’d never smiled in his life. He wasn’t wearing expensive clothing, but he was nicely dressed and very clean. He had a soft voice and a pleasant personality. He came with several job references from ranchers who had employed him. None were unfavorable. It was the oddest thing; there was something familiar about him, as if she’d seen him somewhere. But he was from Arizona, he said, and she’d never been there.

  She drew in a long breath as she studied his job application. She looked up suddenly and surprised an odd, watchful look in his eyes. “Why do you want this job?” she asked with her accustomed bluntness.

  He smiled sadly. “Nobody else had one,” he said simply. “Early spring’s a bad time to be out of work, because most ranchers have already hired on any extra hands they need for calving. And this isn’t Arizona. I wanted a place that wasn’t so hot.” Arizona was where his references were from.

  She looked back down at the paper. “What sort of salary would you expect?” she asked, and lifted her eyes to his.

  He spread his hands. “Whatever the going rate is up here in Wyoming,” he said simply. “I don’t have a family to support and I don’t drink or smoke or gamble. I just mainly need a place to stay and food.” He smiled. “I’d work hard. I’ve always worked hard. I think a man should earn his keep.”

  She smiled at that, noting the curious look on his face. “Well, I can pay you the going rate,” she said after a minute. “It’s not a fancy operation, just a beef enterprise. I have two part-time cowboys and a part-time foreman, Bill...”

  “... McAllister,” he finished for her, and smiled. “I met him in town Sunday. We’re both Methodist. He’s the one who told me about this job.”

  “Well.” If Bill had pointed him in Mina’s direction, he must have seen something good in the man. She clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. “Suppose we give it a try for a month and see if we suit each other?” she asked. “And I have to tell you that I won’t be here for a good bit of the year. I write books. I’m already fairly successful so my publisher is sending me on tour, all over the country, to sign books, in a few weeks. Before that, I have a research trip planned. You’ll mostly be working for Bill until I get home. And he won’t be here all the time,” she added.

  He shrugged. “I’m a self-starter,” he said. “I’ll see what needs done, and I’ll do it.” He hesitated. “There’s just one thing. Do you mind dogs?”

  Her brows drew together. She’d only ever had one, when her father was still at home. It had been a German shepherd, a huge, beautiful red-and-black one named Duke. The dog had gone with her father, all those years ago.

  “I guess not,” she said finally. “As long as he doesn’t eat calves.”

  He chuckled. “He’s a sweet boy. He never bothers other animals. In fact, he has an actual distaste for raw meat. He likes his cooked.”

  “My goodness,” she laughed. “What breed is he?”

  He shrugged. “Sort of Heinz 57, if you get my meaning. There’s husky in him, and some border collie, too, I think. His name’s Sagebrush.”

  She sensed a story there. “Sagebrush?”

  He smiled. “I found him in a clump of sagebrush, half-starved, barely weaned. I never knew what happened to his mother or other pups, if there were any. I took him home, cleaned him up, took him by the vet for shots. He’s been with me ever since.”

  She was intrigued. “I’d really like to meet him.”

  “Sure. Come on out. I left him in the truck, just in case you said no.”

  She paused at the door. “And what would you have done if I did say no?”

  He sighed. “I’d still be looking for a job.”

  She smiled. That told her worlds about the man. She opened the door.

  Sagebrush was big. He had to weigh at least eighty pounds. But he was friendly and sweet and seemed as if he’d never met a stranger. He had a big head and fur like a husky, and even big blue eyes. The rest of him had black-and-white mixed fur. He had huge paws.

  “I’ve had calves smaller than him,” Mina laughed.

  “Me, too,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect him to grow so much.”

  “He looks very healthy. And he isn’t overweight,” she added, studying the dog.

  “The vet said that his size predisposed him to hip dysplasia. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I make sure he has enough to eat, but not too much.”

  A man who was that good to a stray dog would be equally good to people. Bill McAllister had made a good decision, sending him on to Mina. She’d have to remember to thank him.

  A truck drove up before she could tell her applicant what he needed to do. It was Bill McAllister. He climbed down and joined them, grinning.

  “I see you found it,” he told the younger man.

  He chuckled. “I found it. Thanks a million. She just hired me,” he added, nodding toward Mina. “I’ll work hard.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Okay, then, Bill, if you’ll take Mr....” She stopped, blinked, flushed. She hadn’t even asked the man’s name and she hadn’t looked at that part of the job application.

  “Jerry Fender,” he said, holding his hand out. He was certain she wouldn’t recognize the last name. It was his legal one now. It had been for years and years.

  “Mina Michaels,” she replied, shaking his hand. “I hope you’ll like it here. Bill, can you get him settled? And Sagebrush there can sleep in the bunkhouse with him.” She glanced at Jerry and grinned. “You’ll have the bunkhouse to yourself,” she added. “My other guys, including Bill, are part-timers.”

  He cocked his head. “Sagebrush won’t mind sleeping outside...”

  She waved away the suggestion. “He’s a good dog,” she said. “You know, it will be nice having one on the place. We haven’t had a dog since...” She broke off, remembering. The look on her face was painful. The new man grimaced and turned away.

  “Okay, then,” he said, interrupting her. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll clean him up.”

  She laughed. “That’s a deal. He sure does have a lot of fur.”

  “That’s the husky in him,” Jerry said, bending down to ruffle the dog’s fur.

  Funny, Mina was thinking, how that simple act prodded memories of a time long past when her father had loved Duke so much. She turned back toward the house. The new man was oddly familiar to her, but she was sure she’d never met him before. It didn’t matter, anyway, as long as he did a good job.

  * * *

  “SHE’S NICE,” JERRY TOLD Bill as he moved into the bunkhouse with his dog.

  “She is. One day, she’ll be at the top of the New York Times bestseller list,” Bill predicted. “She can really write. They’ve had parties for her all month, introducing her to the best families.”

  “The ones with money, I presume?” Jerry replied, and not with much enthusiasm.

  “Mostly. She’s got a beau. Jake McGuire. He owns one of the biggest ranches around and he likes Mina. But she’s not much on men.” He shook his head. “What she went through at home,” he added, wincing. “Her mother’s lovers came and went. One beat Mina up, another had her hiding out in the woods all night. She’s had a hell of a life.”

  The other man sw
allowed, hard. “She seems to have managed pretty well.”

  “She did. She’s strong and tough.” He laughed. “You should read her latest book, SPECTRE. She went crawling on her belly through jungles with an AK-47 with this merc commando group that adopted her to research the damned thing. She loves mercs and cops.” He shook his head. “It’s a runaway bestseller.”

  “Good Lord,” he exclaimed, and laughed. “I’ll have to give it a look.”

  “You won’t be able to put it down,” the older man promised.

  Jerry just smiled.

  * * *

  MINA HAD LUNCH with Bart in the local restaurant a few days later.

  “How’s your new hired man working out?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Now how did you know that?”

  “Bill,” he returned. “He says you’ve got a real winner there.”

  “I heard that he goes to church with Bill.”

  Bart studied her. “You haven’t set foot in a church in years.”

  Her face closed up.

  He sighed. “Okay. Don’t talk to me.”

  “I hear your houseguest is squiring the happy divorcée around,” she said after a minute. “Is he bringing her to the dance Thursday night?”

  “He hasn’t said. Are you going?” he added.

  She smiled. “I don’t know. Probably not. Next Friday, Jake’s taking me to Billings for what he says is the best steak west of the Mississippi River. If I go to the dance, I’ll be too worn-out the next day to go off with Jake.”

  “Jake’s a cool guy. You could do a lot worse.”

  “I guess I could,” she said with a sigh. “But I don’t feel that way about him.” She glanced at Bart. “Is it getting serious, between your cousin and Ida?”

  “No idea. He says she has hidden qualities.”

  She looked up and pursed her lips. “Oh, I’ll just bet she does.”

  The way she said it had Bart doubled over with laughter. Just as he started to answer her, Cort walked in the door with Ida.