Terry Mclaughlin - Millionaire Cowboy Seeks Wife

“It’s your ranch, now.”

Fitz shrugged, acknowledging the slip.

Burke shrugged, too, and stood. “Do you want me to set up a meet with Lila?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Don’t take too long to make up your mind. She wants to move on this.”

“If she’s really interested, she’ll still be interested when I’m ready to discuss the deal.”

“All right.” Burke slipped his sunglasses out of their case. “If that’s all for tonight, then, I’m heading back to town.”

“Thought I’d head in myself.” Fitz stood and stretched. “Maybe pick up a few groceries.”

“Are you cooking tonight?” Burke tried unsuccessfully to downplay his interest, but Fitz knew his cooking was one reason Burke tolerated his abuse.

“Yep. Want some?”

“Sure.” Burke started out the door ahead of him. “What are you making?”

“Montana grub.”

Burke halted at the bottom of the trailer steps and turned to face him. “Grub?”

“Buffalo steak. Venison stew.” Fitz locked the door behind them. “We’ll see what the locals have that’s fresh.”

Burke paled a bit beneath his California tan. “You’re kidding, right?”

“About my dinner?” Fitz shoved his hands into his pockets and led the way to Burke’s rental car. “Never.”

IT WAS JUST PAST NOON the following day when Ellie staggered up the house’s back steps behind Jody. She was dragging with fatigue, her caffeine overload nudging her closer to cranky than alert.

Her eyes narrowed to slits at a series of hoots and whistles from the direction of the outbuildings. “You go on in,” she told her daughter. “Think I’ll check out the cause of all that ruckus.”

Jody grinned. “Must be the day for it.”

“For what?”

“For checking things out.” Jody sneaked a peek through the screen door and then leaned toward Ellie. “Like the way Mr. Hammond was checking you out.”

“What? Who, Wayne?”

“Yep.” Jody fluttered her eyelashes. “Mr. Wayne ‘Anything I Can Do for You, Anytime’ Hammond.”

Ellie’s cheeks stung with what was working up to be a champion blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mom.” Jody reached into her pocket and pulled out some change. “Here’s a dollar. Buy a clue.”

Ellie hid her hands behind her back. Wayne Hammond? No. It couldn’t be. The very idea was… mortifying, to say the least. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, one of us better figure out what I’m talking about,” said Jody, “or this conversation’s going nowhere fast.”

Ellie pulled the stern parental routine. “This conversation has nowhere to go.”

Jody tugged at the screen door. “All I’m saying is, it’s, like, totally obvious Wayne Hammond has the hots for you.”

“Jody?” Jenna called from deep inside the house. “Ellie? You coming in for lunch or not?”

“Coming!” Jody stepped inside and held the door. “Mom?”

Ellie shook her head and backed away. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Okay.” The door slammed shut, and Jody grinned through the screen. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“God.” Ellie turned and fled from the porch.

Wayne Hammond. Wayne Hammond . She groaned as she swung down the gravel road. Probably looking at her and thinking it would be a fine and sensible thing to tear down some nice long stretches of fence between his ranch and hers. Well, hell, he could look and think all he wanted. She was done with giving folks around here reason to think she was marrying for a place to call her own.

She slowed her pace, tripped up by needle-sharp guilt. She’d loved Tom Harrison, surely she had—she’d matched him leap for leap through a carefree, rollicking courtship. He’d been six years older, the wandering prodigal son returned to aid his ailing father, a dashing college graduate with big ideas he’d developed working on bigger ranches. She’d been fresh out of high school and reluctant to leave the only home she’d ever known. So unsure of her footing, so quick to tumble in over her head. And when the daydreams had faded, they’d settled down in comfort and contentment and had made their beautiful daughter.

Maybe neither of them had been built for a deeper passion.

Nothing wrong with that, she thought with a hitch of a shoulder. It was the safe and sensible way to go about living a life and sharing a love. Passion could suck a person into a world of pain.

Or so she imagined.

But oh, just once in her life—just for a moment or two, nothing too risky—just once she’d like to know what it felt like. Just once she’d like to be swept up in something dark and reckless and intensely, wickedly thrilling.

None of those adjectives could be applied in any stretch of her imagination to a relationship with Wayne Hammond, but that was probably a good thing. At least she’d keep her wits about her if he started sniffing around.

She set her chin and picked up her pace. She was doing okay these days taking care of herself and her own. Better than okay, once the extra money from this film started rolling in. She had plans—expanding the herd, replacing some of the equipment with new. Adding to Jody’s college fund, sending Jenna off on one of those cruises she was always talking about.

Maybe her dreams weren’t as audacious as Tom’s, but perhaps she had a better chance of making them come true. And she didn’t need a man to help her do it.

Another round of laughter sailed in on the languid afternoon breeze. Ellie pinpointed its source—the sand arena down along the creek. She hiked the short distance from the calving barn to the stables, and then skirted the low-slung building and headed for the open area beneath a row of cottonwoods.

One of the temporary hires trudged up the path, lugging an armful of bridles and saddle blankets. He nodded politely. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Hey, Nudge.” She tilted her head at the arena. “What’s all the excitement?”

“Fitz is giving ol’ Noodle a try.”

“Noodle?”

“Yeah. You gotta see this, Ellie. It’s quite a show. He already put Pete through his paces. It was something, I’m telling you.”

She snorted. “Pete could make anybody look good.” She tucked her hands in her back pockets and kicked at some loose gravel. “So, why’s he trying Noodle?”

“That gal with the clipboard liked Noodle’s looks. And Fitz said he didn’t want Pete.” Nudge rolled a wad of tobacco from one side of his jaw to the other. “It’s okay to let them check out the stock, right?”

“Yeah, it’s okay. Anything they want, within reason.” Ellie sighed. “But there’s nothing wrong with Pete. He’s a good pick for this job. The director liked him well enough.”

“Oh, Fitz liked him well enough, too,” said Nudge with a shrug, “but he said he was hoping for something a little more quick on the draw.”

“Pete’s okay.”

“Pete’s pokey, Ellie. Everybody knows that.”

“Yeah, but he won’t shy, and he won’t throw some Hollywood dude on his million-dollar ass.”

“I don’t think Fitz is worried about that.”

“I’m sure he’s not.” She rubbed at a tight spot on the back of her neck. “That’s why I get to do it for him.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna have to.” He nodded toward the arena. “Go take a look.”

“I just might.”

“Okay, then.” Nudge lifted the bridles. “Better go get these cleaned off and hung up before the spit dries on ’em.”

By the time Ellie claimed a viewing spot among the crowd hanging on the arena rails, Fitz was switching mounts again, pulling a saddle off Noodle. Brady Cutter, the ranch’s bowlegged stable hand and farrier, was standing to one side, smoothing a blanket over Hannibal, her oversize sorrel gelding.