Lynnette Kent - A Wife in Wyoming

He flushed and pushed his dark hair back off his face. “Stayed up till dawn working on a piece. Then somebody stomps in at seven and drags me out of bed to feed horses.” His gaze went to Ford. “So I’m a little short on shut-eye.” He yawned for emphasis. “Going home to bed.”

Ford propped his hands on his hips. “That leaves me without a ride.”

Caroline swallowed hard. “No problem. We can go to the café in my truck. I’ll run you home after.”

His gaze, meeting hers, was hard to read. “Great. I’m interested to hear what you have to say.” He stepped forward and pressed the tips of his fingers against her shoulder blade. “Shall we?”

They got a few interested stares from lingering church members as she led the way to her truck. Caroline wanted to yell, “Just business!” at them but restrained herself. She wondered if Ford would prefer that she had.

She unlocked the truck from a distance with the electronic key and was surprised when he followed her to the driver’s side to open the door.

“Th-thanks,” she said, after climbing in with as much grace as she could manage in a dress.

“You’re welcome.” He shut the door, came around the back and swung into the passenger seat with a cowboy’s smooth control.

“You’re still at home in a truck, I see.” She let her gaze brush over him as she turned her head to reverse out of the parking space. “Do you drive one in San Francisco?”

“I’ve got a Mercedes for town. The clients prefer it.”

“Do they know your ranch background at the law office?”

“My partners are aware. I have some pictures in my office, but most people don’t notice. They’re concerned with their own issues, not mine.”

“Not like Bisons Creek, where everybody wants to hear your business?”

“Not remotely like Bisons Creek, which has its good and bad points.”

The drive to Kate’s Café took all of three minutes. Caroline parked in a spot the next block up—one of the five blocks that made up Main Street—because the lot around the restaurant was full. They didn’t talk as they walked to the café, but the never-ending Wyoming wind blew her hair in all directions.

Caroline sighed. She would be giving an important presentation to the most intelligent, educated and sophisticated man she knew in front of at least half of the town’s citizens, and she’d look as if she’d walked through a tornado. Great.

Ford held the door open for her again when they reached the café. The bell on the handle rang as he came through behind her, and every face in the building turned in their direction. Caroline kept her smile in place and scanned the suddenly silent crowd for a table.

“Here ya go, son.” Marvin Harris stood up from the table in the front corner. “The missus and I are done. You’re welcome to sit here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Harris.” Ford shook the older man’s hand and his wife’s. “Good to see you, Mrs. Harris. How are those grandsons of yours? I hear they’re real firecrackers.”

“You got that right.” Mr. Harris chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Caught them one day trying to fly out of the hay loft with a pair of wings they’d made out of cardboard. Lucky they didn’t break their darn fool necks!” He turned to Caroline. “Hello, Missy. How’s your mama these days?”

“Just fine, Mr. Harris, thank you.” At least, she hoped so. She hadn’t visited with her mom in almost a month.

Mrs. Harris walked up to Ford and patted his arm. “It’s about time you finished with this San Francisco foolishness, boy, and came back home where you belong. Get yourself a wife and some kids and settle down.” As she left, she gave Caroline a wink that Ford would surely notice. “You two have a nice afternoon.”

Just kill me now , Caroline said to herself. It can only get worse from here.

Chapter Two

By the time Ford had pulled out Caroline’s chair and then settled into his own, one of the waitresses had come to clean the table. “Thanks, Angie.”

Caroline said the same thing at the same moment. Their gazes met and held before sliding apart.

“How’s school?” Ford asked the waitress.

“Good.” The college sophomore gave him a grin. “I made the rodeo team. Cool, huh?”

He nodded. “As long as you remember to study for classes.”

Angie stuck her tongue out at him and turned to Caroline. “You rode for the University of Wyoming team, didn’t you, Caroline?”

Caroline brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “For three years. I dropped out my senior year—too busy.”

The waitress sighed. “I’ll never be too busy for rodeo. I’m hoping to go pro when I graduate.” She loaded up plates and glasses on one arm. “What can I get you two to drink?”

Caroline asked for water, Ford ordered a soda and Angie went on her way, which left them facing each other across the table. “Glad to be back in town?” Caroline asked him.

He gave a rueful smile. “Something of a challenge, I admit. The locals are ready to plan your life out for you, aren’t they?”

“Oh, yes. Not to mention telling you exactly what you did wrong in the past.”

“But surely you don’t hear that often. You were everybody’s favorite rodeo queen.”

She rolled her eyes and frowned. “Hardly.”

“Oh, definitely. That’s how I remember you—prom queen, homecoming queen, rodeo queen.” Her expression didn’t lighten. “You won all the votes, every time.” For good reason, since she’d been the prettiest girl in the school.

Not to mention the daughter of one of the richest ranchers in Johnson County. “Is your mother doing well? Your brother still riding bulls?” He wouldn’t bring up her dad. They were likely to have very different perspectives on George Donnelly.

She met his gaze, and he was surprised to see sadness in her eyes. “I haven’t talked to Reid for...a while. My mom says he’s doing okay, but will be retiring from the rodeo pretty soon to come back and work on the ranch with Daddy.”

“That’ll be...interesting.” As much as he enjoyed working with his own family, Ford didn’t envy Caroline’s brother a life with his father as his boss. His own dad had spent ten faithful years working at the Donnelly ranch and, from what Ford remembered, George Donnelly had been a tough taskmaster.

He also remembered how, just months after his mom’s death, Donnelly had fired his dad without a second thought. The resulting downward spiral had cost him and his brothers their remaining parent. Though Donnelly couldn’t logically be held responsible for his dad becoming an alcoholic and killing himself in a car accident two years later, his indifference certainly hadn’t improved the situation.

But the Marshall boys had turned out just fine without anybody’s help. Wyatt’s strong hand and determination had seen them through. In the end, the only people you could rely on were your family.

“Working with my dad is a challenge,” Caroline said, in an unexpected echo of Ford’s thoughts. “I’m not sure Reid will stick it out. He can be pretty volatile himself.”

Angie reappeared with their drinks. “What can I get y’all to eat? Chicken fried steak is the special today,” she announced. “Comes with mashed potatoes, green beans and Kate’s homemade rolls.”

“Sounds great,” he and Caroline said in unison. Again.

“That’ll be two.” Angie wrote on her notepad. “Back in a bit.”

When Ford looked over at Caroline, she had set her forearms on the edge of the table and leaned a little toward him. He gathered they were about to get down to business.

“We’re here,” she started, “because I want to tell you what I’m planning. This is a project Garrett and I are very excited about, and I think the Circle M Ranch would be the perfect setting to use.” Her expressive face wore the prize-winning smile he’d never forgotten.