Vicki Thompson - The Heart Won't Lie

Theoretically she could go back to Baltimore anytime, because according to her parents, nobody mentioned the incident anymore. But Keri found herself looking for excuses to stay at the ranch. They’d needed her when the boys had arrived in June, and now they needed her to help with the wedding guests.

Come winter, her services wouldn’t be so critical. She could give her notice then, which would allow them plenty of time to find a new housekeeper. She loved living on the ranch, but she didn’t intend to be a cleaning lady for the rest of her working life. What she did want was still up for debate.

She showered in record time, and true to her word, she made it out of her room and back over to Michael’s in twenty minutes. She’d even managed to blow-dry her hair. Getting dressed was easy these days. Jeans, a T-shirt, running shoes. She no longer spent much time on makeup, either.

Some fancier outfits hung in her closet, but she had no reason to wear them. Once in a while she longed for a reason to put on party clothes, but people didn’t do that much at the ranch, or in the little town of Shoshone ten miles down the road. She’d accepted dates with some of the ranch hands, but jeans were fine for the Spirits and Spurs in Shoshone. Those dates hadn’t resulted in any wild love affairs, either.

Maybe that explained her attraction to Michael. He hailed from her neck of the woods, and she felt that gave them something in common that she didn’t have with everyone here. As she rapped on his door frame to announce her presence, she cautioned herself to be very careful. She might not want to keep this job forever, but she didn’t want to be booted out for inappropriate behavior, either.

Michael closed a drawer and turned. He’d taken off his hat and it lay on the bed, brim side down. She’d have to tell him to flip it the other way, which preserved the shape better.

He glanced at the clock sitting on top of the dresser. “Twenty minutes, and you’re showered and changed. I don’t think I know any woman who could accomplish that.”

“It’s the simplicity of the existence here. Ranch life can be complicated sometimes, but getting dressed for it isn’t.”

“Maybe not if you’ve been here long enough.” He gestured toward his shirt, jeans and boots. “This outfit took an enormous amount of effort.”

“It did? Why?”

“I didn’t want to look like I just stepped out of a Western wear store, so I had someone rough these things up a bit. Everything’s been artificially distressed so it looks as if I’ve been out riding the trails and roping those doggies.”

She pressed her lips together, not sure if she was supposed to find that funny or not.

“It’s okay. You can laugh. It makes me laugh, too.”

“Whoever worked on it did a good job. When you walked through the front door, I thought you were the real deal.”

“I’m not, but maybe Jack will whip me into shape.”

“I’m sure he will, but why are you…” She caught herself just in time. Her question was inappropriate coming from a staff member.

“Why am I doing this?”

She shook her head. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

“Well, it’s complicated.”

“Really, you don’t have to explain.”

“I know, but it’s a legitimate question. All my life I’ve wanted to be a cowboy. I can’t really be one because my life is in New York City. But this week, I’ll at least find out if I have what it takes.”

“I completely understand that.” Yep, that feeling of connection was snapping into place. She’d come out here to get away from gossip, but she’d stayed because she wanted to see if she had what it took to live in a completely different environment.

She was testing herself, and apparently, so was he. She admired that impulse to seek a different path from the one you were born to. Talking about that with him would make for interesting conversation. Maybe someday, when they were both back in their normal environments…but that was getting way ahead of the game.

“I believe that you do understand. I’ll take a wild guess that you might have some similar reasons for being in Wyoming.”

“Good guess.” But she wouldn’t elaborate, because the more they exchanged confidences now, the stronger the link between them. And now was not the time for making a connection. “Let’s go see the rest of the house.”

KERI WAS AN excellent tour guide, and Michael was interested in the history of the massive two-story ranch house with its sturdy log construction. But he was even more interested in Keri and why she’d left Baltimore to come out here. Whatever the reason, she’d adapted with a can-do attitude that both attracted and inspired him.

She kept the focus on the ranch, though, and he couldn’t figure out how to question her without being intrusive. He learned about the grandparents, Archie and Nelsie Chance, who’d homesteaded the place in the thirties. As a storyteller, he appreciated the tale of how they’d taken a run-down place and created a gem that was now worth millions to their heirs. Jack was the oldest grandson, followed by Nick, a veterinarian, and Gabe, who specialized in showing the registered Paints bred and trained at the Last Chance. Raising cattle had been abandoned for the horse business.

Keri proudly showed off the awards Gabe had won, all displayed in a case in the large living room, which was anchored by a great stone fireplace. The leather furniture and wagon-wheel chandelier were the sort of rustic touches Michael often included in his books. He was gratified to find out that in this, too, he’d gotten it right.

But whenever he tried to turn the conversation in the direction of Keri’s background, she dodged away. Close to six o’clock, she took him into a large dining room at the end of the house’s left wing. His bedroom would be directly above it.

She gestured to four round tables, each of which could seat eight people. “This is where everyone gathers for lunch,” she said. “That includes the ranch hands and as many members of the Chance family as are available. It’s a tradition to get together for the noon meal and exchange information about ranch business.”

“Do you eat lunch here, then?”

“That depends on whether Mary Lou needs my help. When the boys were here, they also ate in the dining room, so Mary Lou needed me to serve and clear.”

“But now?”

“I grabbed a quick lunch in the kitchen today because I had so much cleaning to do, but tomorrow I’ll probably eat here. Mary Lou may join everyone, too, at least for a few days until the wedding guests arrive. Then it’ll get busy again.”

Michael felt ridiculously pleased that he’d see her at lunch tomorrow. Between now and then he planned to do some research on the internet. Social media could be a pain in the ass, but through it he might be able to get a bead on Keri Fitzpatrick.

A regal woman with silver hair walked out of the kitchen. She wore jeans and a Western blouse, nothing fancy, but she had an air of command about her. “I thought I heard voices.” She walked forward, hand extended. “You must be Michael Hartford, Bethany’s friend.”

“And you must be Sarah Chance.” He clasped her hand and felt the firm grip of a woman who was as sure of her place in the world as Jack was of his. Bethany had told him that Sarah was the reigning queen of the neighborhood, and Michael began to see why.

“That’s right.” She smiled at him. “Looks like Keri’s been showing you around. Thanks for doing that, Keri. I’ve been a little distracted today. Pete wants to fly in floral arrangements from Hawaii, and I want wildflowers. I do believe it’s our first fight.”

Michael spoke without thinking. “Wildflowers.” Then he realized he didn’t have a vote. “Forget that. It’s not my place to—”