Susan Mallery - The Rancher and the Runaway Bride

“Grub’s on,” Tex said, walking in the room carrying a large tray. He set it on a side table, then started placing bowls and platters in front of the men. On his second trip, he leaned close to Rita, caught sight of her and froze. His gaze narrowed.

“Tex, this is Rita,” Brady said. “She’s the new groom.”

“Uh-huh.” Tex straightened. “You much of a cook?”

Rita stared at him. “I’m terrible in the kitchen.”

“Uh-huh. We don’t do much in the way of fancy food here. No decorated cookies or sushi.”

“I’ve never had sushi,” Rita said. “I always thought raw fish was something you fed to cats.”

“Uh-huh.” He returned to the kitchen.

Brady took his seat. “Tex takes a little getting used to.”

“He’s jealous because you smell better than the food,” Quinn called from halfway down the table.

“Next time I won’t bother showering,” Rita mumbled under her breath. “Then that won’t be a problem.”

The dining room door opened and Ty stepped inside. A couple of men greeted him, but the majority didn’t acknowledge his presence. The tall, dark-haired loner didn’t encourage idle chitchat.

“Evening, Ty,” Brady said.

“Boss.” Ty walked toward the empty chair at the far end of the table, then paused when he saw Rita. “Ma’am.”

“This is Rita,” Brady told him. “She’s the new groom.”

Eyes so dark they were black didn’t show a flicker of emotion. Ty nodded briefly to Rita, then took his seat. Brady resisted the urge to slide his chair closer to hers, as if it was necessary to claim her. The point was to treat her like one of the guys. If that was possible. He’d already done a lot more thinking about her than was safe.

“You planning on eating or do you want to just look at the food?” Tex growled when he returned with another tray.

Brady realized they’d all just been sitting there, waiting for Rita to start. He nudged her arm and nodded toward a bowl overflowing with mashed potatoes. She grabbed the serving spoon and dropped a mound of fluffy potatoes onto her plate. As she passed the bowl to her left, Tex set a huge platter of fried chicken in front of her, then glared defiantly.

Rita glared right back. “Looks great,” she said, and speared the largest piece.

“You mean to tell me you ain’t got one of those prissy little girl appetites?”

“That’s exactly what I mean to tell you,” she said, and took a bite of chicken.

“Uh-huh.” Tex returned to the kitchen, but Brady would have sworn he was smiling.

* * *

Randi stepped out into the evening. The air had cooled some and the night creatures were warming up for their regular performance.

“Get enough to eat?” Brady asked, coming out of the dining room after her.

She laughed. “I can barely move. If these jeans weren’t loose to begin with I would have had to unbutton them.” She patted her stomach. “Three pieces of chicken, two servings of potatoes and vegetables, three rolls and dessert. Are you sure you want to include room and board in my salary?”

“The men eat twice what you do. It’s all the physical activity. These guys aren’t sitting behind a desk in some office. They’re outside working hard.”

At least they had an excuse, Randi thought. She’d been hungry from not eating much over the past couple of days. She shook her head, determined not to dwell on that. For now she was here and things were looking up.

She paused in front of the bunkhouse, not sure if she should say good-night or if Brady was walking back to the main house, as well. She took a tentative step in that direction and he moved with her.

“You made progress with Tex,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, trying to imitate the cook’s low, disbelieving tone.

Brady chuckled. “He’s proud of his culinary skills and enjoys people eating what he prepares. I’m sure he thought you were going to complain.”

“About someone else’s cooking? Never. Maybe tomorrow I’ll take that second piece of pie and he’ll actually smile at me.”

“Oh, that’s a tough one. It takes about a month of solid eating to earn one of Tex’s smiles.” Brady shoved his hands in his pockets. “The men aren’t usually like that.”

“I know.” At his quizzical glance she shrugged. “They’re showing off because I’m female and I’m new. They’ll get bored soon and I’ll be one of the guys.”

“You sound experienced.”

“I’m no expert, but I have a brother. He’s a lot like that. In fact—”

Randi crossed her arms over her chest and bit back a groan. What was she thinking, spilling personal information like that? She had been so careful since she’d run out on her wedding. She’d never let anything slip. It must be all the food making her sleepy, or maybe it was the ranch itself. Maybe here she could feel safe for a while.

If Brady noticed her faux pas, he didn’t let on. “I did warn you about being the only female around. But I think you’re right. They’ll get over it in a few days.”

“I can handle meaningless flattery until then.”

They’d reached the main house. Brady rested one foot on the stairs, but made no effort to climb up to the porch. “What makes you think it’s meaningless?”

She glanced down at herself, then at him. “Let’s just say I have no illusions.”

“Then you have some misconceptions.”

Randi wasn’t sure how to take that. Brady didn’t give her a chance to respond. He jerked his thumb toward the house. “We’ve got a satellite dish on the ranch so you can get a couple hundred channels, if you want to watch TV. There’s books in the library. I’ve got some work to do in my office, so you’ll have the place to yourself. ‘Night.”

With that he turned and walked away.

Rita stared after him. He moved easily through the darkness, walking a path he’d traveled thousands of times before. She waited until he disappeared into the barn before climbing to the porch and entering the house.

She touched the switch by the back door and lights sprang on in the kitchen. Having him come inside with her would have been awkward. Had Brady really wanted to return to his office to work, or was he giving her time alone so she could settle in? She suspected it was the latter. The guy was definitely a gentleman.

She left the light on for him and started up the stairs. Hal was socially correct and always knew which fork to use, but she wouldn’t have described him as a gentleman.

Hal. The longer she was away from him the more she wondered why she’d been willing to go out with him or get engaged. Worse, she’d nearly married the man. What had been wrong with her?

Once in her room, she crossed to the window and stared out at the clear West Texas night sky. Stars twinkled. During the day the heat was oppressive, but at night it cooled off some. She inhaled the scents of horses and grasses, flowers and hay.

What quirk of fate had brought her to this particular ranch, to this place of misfits and strays? She thought about the cowboys she’d met at dinner. Ziggy with his stutter; Quinn, whose left arm and hand were nearly useless; Ty, the mysterious loner. There were others, a collection that defied description. Oddly enough, she fit right in. A woman on the run from a man she didn’t want to marry and two strangers who wanted her dead.

She leaned against the windowsill. Her gaze settled on the barn, specifically on the light shining from an office in the back. “Who are you, Brady Jones? Why do you bother with the likes of us?”

She didn’t have an answer and she didn’t need one. Around Brady, she felt safe. After nearly two months on the run, there was nothing she wanted more, except maybe to find a place to belong.