Kimberly Kaye Terry - To Tempt a Wilde

She’d been reading the local paper when they’d come inside the café the last time, checking out the want ads when one of them—she scrunched her brows—Shilah, the Native American brother, asked her if she was looking for work.

She’d smiled and made an offhand comment that she was always looking for work. An odd expression had crossed his handsome face before he’d told her they were in need of help around the ranch.

He’d told her the ranch was located in Wyoming and the work was only seasonal, but if she were interested…

Although always on the lookout for opportunities, in case she had to leave suddenly, Althea had shied away from answering him. The intensity in his eyes was unnerving; it was as though he were seeing straight to the heart of her, as though he’d read things she didn’t want anyone to know.

She’d thanked him but told him she wasn’t ready to relocate.

He’d opened his mouth as though to speak when she caught the subtle nudge from his brother and a shake of his head. Instead of speaking, he’d handed her his card, telling her the offer would be open if she ever wanted it.

She’d glanced up an hour later and had noted the men leaving, a part of her regretting her decision not to hear more about the job.

Glancing down at the card now, Althea ran her fingers over the raised crest, the looped Ws that resembled a rope, lost in thought.

Welcome to the Wilde side of ranching.

She rose from the bed and turned off the light. Before she did, she glanced back toward the window, a shiver running through her.

Again she raised a hand and ran trembling fingers over the small scar that spanned no more than an inch near her hairline. She’d learned one thing over the last two years: trust her instincts.

Her instincts were telling her—no, screaming at her—that it was time to go. And go now.

Nathan Wilde wanted nothing more than to put his feet up, pop open a can of beer and relax, exhausted and sweaty from moving cattle to the spring pasture for the better part of the day with his brothers.

“No beer for you, but I’m sure oats and water will work just the same, right, girl? ” he asked, affectionately patting the rear end of the horse he’d just dismounted.

After walking, watering and patting down Gerry, his favorite workhorse, Nate strapped the canvas feeding bag over her neck and led her to the stables.

Running a weary hand over the back of his neck, he rolled his shoulders forward, trying to work out the knots settled deep. As soon as their workday ended, his brothers had decided to go into town to their favorite sports bar to unwind, inviting Nate to go with them.

According to them, a woman was all a man needed to work out his “knots.” Although they’d issued the invitation, they’d done so more out of habit rather than any real belief that Nate would actually accept. They, like Nate, knew what his automatic response would be; not only no, but hell, no.

A woman was the last thing he wanted to work out his knots. He could do without the hassle of what came after a woman worked out his knots.

Nate led the horse toward the stable, thinking of his brothers’ invitation. There was a time when all three of them had been called the Wilde boys for a reason, besides it being their last name. They worked hard and played just as hard, and any woman knew when dealing with the men that that was all it was—play. It had been that way for Nate until two years ago…

He shook his head. A lot had changed since then.

When he’d gone too long without a woman and his need was rising high—that was the only time he ventured into town and went on the hunt. Those times he made sure the woman he chose knew the score from jump.

He was looking for a one-time thing. Just a hard, hot ride to release his pent-up energy. And nothing more. No expectations or demands on either side.

As he was pushing open the double-sided stable door to lead Gerry inside, he paused with one foot inside the barn. The low hum of a woman’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks and pulled him out of his mental musings.

With a frown on his face, Nate cautiously moved forward, Gerry docilely trailing behind him.

“Yes, baby, you are a beauty aren’t you?” the unknown woman crooned, her voice low, soothing.

Frown still in place, Nate led the horse to her stall and opened the gate, ushering her inside. He gave her one more absentminded pat on the rear before locking the gate and moving toward the voice.

The woman’s soft voice echoed in the quiet stable, tugging at Nate, and his feet moved as though of their own volition, drawing him closer to the source. When he came to the open stalled area he stopped, his eyes narrowing.

Standing before the Arabian palomino he’d recently purchased was a woman, the top of her head barely reaching the horse at mane level.

Her face was turned slightly away from him as she ran a small hand over the horse’s neck, down her side. As she whispered soothing words, the horse’s willingness to allow her to touch him fascinated Nate.

He’d recently purchased the horse from a rancher who’d put up his livestock for sale after selling his spread to a major conglomeration for a hefty fee. Although he’d owned mostly cattle, he’d also sold several horses. However, the palomino remained.

The old rancher had rescued it from a shelter that recovered abused horses and sought to rehabilitate them. Eventually the man had given up trying to tame the beast, unable to get anywhere near the animal besides to feed him.

Nate had gone to the ranch for the sole purpose of purchasing the Braunvieh bulls, paying a hefty price for several of the bulls to breed with their Angus. Yet when the rancher had shown him the stables and the last remaining horse for sale, he’d bought the horse, too.

It was beautiful and wild.

Beyond the fear, there was a keen intelligence in the horse’s watchful gaze, and Nate knew he had to buy it, convinced he could get to the animal, earn its trust. Nate had been sure that with the right touch, the beautiful horse would eventually come around.

In the week since the horse had been delivered, Nate hadn’t been able to get within two feet of the damn thing without it neighing, kicking its feet up and pitching a damn fit.

Last time he’d tried, he’d come in serious danger of losing his ability to father children…

And now, to witness this small, unknown woman uttering soothing nonsense at the horse, and it not only allowing, but encouraging her, nuzzling against her hand, was nothing short of amazing to Nate.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and watched the interaction between the semiwild horse and the woman, listening as she spoke, a deep frown pulling his brows together.

Althea hadn’t been so…at ease, in a long time.

She inhaled a deep breath, a smile tilting one corner of her mouth up slightly. Even the air smelled better. Cleaner, new. Alive.

That was it. That’s what was different.

She hadn’t felt so alive as she did here at Wyoming Wilde. Hadn’t felt so protected as she did now in longer than she wanted to remember.

Although the ranch was accessible, no one set foot on the property who wasn’t invited. And no one came without at least ten men knowing of their arrival.

Continuing to smooth her hands over the beautiful horse’s mane, she thought of her short time at Wyoming Wilde Ranch.

The morning she’d awakened from the night when she’d felt someone watching her, she’d known it was time for her to move on.

Not that she’d gotten any sleep after she’d turned off the light.

Instead she’d alternated between staring up at the ceiling, watching the blades on the old ceiling fan swirl round and round, the loud hum fading into the background, and fingering the business card she held clutched in her hand.