Anne Winston - Rancher's Wife

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Katrina… I love you, Bean

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

“Hello. My name is Angel.” Angelique Sumner Vandervere closed the door of the dark blue rental car she’d driven out to the Red Arrow Ranch. Smiling, she surveyed the child before her.

The small girl stood at the top of the steps fronting the porch on the big farmhouse. A disreputable white blanket draped over her shoulder and the thumb of the hand that clutched the blanket was tucked firmly in her mouth. Black curls tumbled about her shoulders and wide eyes regarded Angel solemnly. The fingers of her other hand brushed idly back and forth across the ruff of a scruffy-looking black-and-white dog. The dog wasn’t bothering to look friendly, Angel noted, watching his lip curl up to reveal shining white canine teeth.

The little one was dressed in a light cotton shift, perfect clothing for a hot July day in southwestern New Mexico. In contrast, Angel felt hot and grubby in her two-piece traveling suit.

“I’m here to visit Dulcie Meadows,” she said to the child. “Do you know her?”

The little girl nodded shyly from behind the thumb. Beside her, the dog gave a menacing snarl.

Enchanted, Angel ignored the animal and tried again. “Can you find her for me?”

A grin slowly spread behind the thumb but the child made no move.

Angel might have been exasperated but the little girl was so adorable she couldn’t summon up any irritation. The child looked to be about three, and a piercing pain smote her as she made the inevitable association. Emmie was five now, soon to be six. What Angel wouldn’t give to be this close to Emmie, even for a single minute!

Deliberately she pulled her mind back to the present, recoiling from the grief and regret. No sense in crying over what she couldn’t change, she told herself firmly. Digging into her purse, she withdrew one of the candies she always popped into her mouth when her flights took off and landed. “Would you like a piece of candy?”

The child nodded. The thumb stayed in her mouth as she reached for the candy with the other small hand.

“Beth Ann! No!”

The sharp masculine command made both Angel and the child jump. Angel’s hand jerked and the candy fell to the dusty ground. As she looked around for the source of the voice, a cowboy—a big cowboy—wearing a black hat, crossed the porch from a side door in two quick strides. Reaching for the little girl, he swung her protectively into his arms. Then he straightened and turned to face Angel as she stood, frozen in puzzlement and rising outrage.

“Get off my land,” he said, and his tone was deep and menacing. As menacing as the black brows that drew together over hooded eyes shot with dark flames of rage.

He was broad shouldered, deep chested, taller than she by several inches, even in her heels. She had to squash the involuntary leap of fear produced by his aggressive attitude. “I’m sorry if somehow I’ve offended—”

But he didn’t give her a chance to complete the sentence. Setting the child down, the cowboy stepped forward. One big hand shot out and snared her upper arm in an unbreakable grip. Before she could utter a protest, he was literally dragging her back toward her car. Behind him, the dog set up a sharp, vicious barking.

Angel stiffened her legs, seeking purchase on the rough ground, though all that did was ensure that the heels of her expensive leather pumps bumped and scuffed over the earth. Reality receded and the fear she’d succeeded in subduing for weeks suddenly rushed over her. The thing she feared more than anything in the world was happening.

The man—the faceless, nameless one from whom she was running—had found her.

Fear endowed her with exceptional strength. She leaned away, then slammed herself hard against him, banging her head painfully against his chin. He yelped and swore but his hands didn’t loosen. She twisted her body, wriggling and writhing in his grasp, but after the first surprised instant, her efforts appeared to have less than no effect.

“Let me go,” she gasped as he plowed to a halt beside her car. Her voice sounded breathless and ineffective, even to her.

“Get off my land,” he said again. He had both her arms now and he shook her after every few syllables as if to emphasize his words. “Nobody is taking my child away from me ever again. You can go straight back to Jada and tell her—”

“Day, stop!”

The familiar voice of her childhood friend was a welcome relief to Angel. This was all some sort of horrible mistake. She immediately relaxed her body. And was sorry a moment later as her determined attacker yanked open the door of the rental car and slammed her forcefully into the driver’s seat.

“Ooph!” The air whooshed from her lungs and she fell forward over the steering wheel, gasping for breath.

“David Kincaid, you stop bullying Angel at once.” Dulcie’s voice came again, steely anger replacing the mild reproof in her tones. In her peripheral vision, Angel could see her friend hurrying forward, unceremoniously shoving the big cowboy out of her way. “If you would have asked before performing your caveman feats, you might have learned that she’s going to be my guest at this ranch.”

The big man merely folded his arms and stood where he’d planted himself as Dulcie helped Angel from the car. As he glared at her, the dark suspicion didn’t ease even a fraction. “You didn’t tell me you invited someone to visit,” he said to Dulcie. It was almost an accusation.

“I didn’t realize I needed your permission,” Dulcie countered. “I’m here at the Red Arrow, in which we share ownership, to do you a favor. You’d do well to remember it.” Unfazed by his grim expression, she examined Angel anxiously. “Are you all right?”

Angel nodded. “More or less.” She smiled wryly, hoping to defuse the tense moment. “Maybe I should begin again.”

Dulcie’s understanding grin highlighted her dark, sultry beauty. She stepped forward with both arms spread wide, mimicking surprise. “Angel, welcome to the Red Arrow. It’s great to see you!”

Angel laughed at the silly pretense, hugging her shorter friend. “It’s great to see you, too. As usual, it’s been too long.”

“Have you met my brother?” Dulcie’s courtesy had a distinct edge to it when she turned to wave a hand in the direction of the man who still stood behind her, unsmiling. “Angel, my brother, Day Kincaid, older than me by enough years to make him incredibly bossy. Day, this is Angel Vandervere. Angel is a friend of mine from high school. She doesn’t live around here anymore, and I invited her to spend some time with me while I’m at the ranch.”

Angel held out her hand and took a deep breath, determined to get past the awkward moment. Angel Vandervere, not her stage name, Angelique Sumner. Though she assumed Day Kincaid recognized her face from her movies, she was grateful to Dulcie for emphasizing her need for privacy. “It’s nice to meet you,” she murmured.

He didn’t take the offered hand, merely nodded his head once in a curt gesture. “How long will you be staying, Miss Vandervere?”

“I asked her to stay for two weeks,” Dulcie inserted before she could respond. Then the smaller woman addressed Angel again. “I apologize for my brother’s unfriendliness earlier. Day thought you were someone his ex-wife hired to kidnap my niece.”