A Wife in Wyoming. Lynnette Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ cheeks flush. “It’s just...I mean, for those first few years, the graduating class got together, you know, to have a party during the summer and find out what everybody was doing. But you were never there.” Even that was admitting too much. Why had she noticed whether Ford Marshall came or not?

      “As I said earlier, I worked most summers in legal offices, getting experience to put on my law school applications.”

      “But you probably wouldn’t have come even if you were in town.”

      “Probably not. I wasn’t Mr. Social Scene when I was here.” After a moment, he continued. “But you were. I’m not surprised you made all the parties.”

      That was the third strike, as far as Caroline was concerned. She stomped on the brake, put the truck into Park and turned in the seat to face him. “What did I do to you that made you resent me so much?”

      Again, that look of surprise. “What are you talking about?”

      “That’s the third time you’ve insinuated that I’m shallow and stupid.”

      “You said you got your master’s degree. That’s not stupid. I just meant you were Miss Popularity.”

      “There you go again. Yes, I was popular in high school. When did that become a crime?”

      “This is a ridiculous argument for two adults to have. High school was fifteen years ago.”

      “But whatever grudge you’ve got against me is standing in the way of helping some troubled kids get the future they deserve. So I want to deal with it now and move on.”

      His hand fisted again. “I was a poor orphan kid from the wrong side of town. You were the rich socialite with the world and most people in it at your feet. I grew up being reminded I wasn’t good enough to breathe the same air as George Donnelly’s kids. But I’m over it. Can we drive now?”

      Caroline continued to stare at him. His explanation fit the facts and yet...didn’t. What wasn’t he saying? “People do change, you know.”

      “Yes, they do. Some more than others.” He opened the door and dropped to the ground. “Thanks for the ride. Garrett will call you after we have the family meeting.” With a two-fingered salute from an imaginary hat brim, he set off in the direction of the house.

      As he strode off, Caroline noticed the summertime beauty of the lush pastureland around her. Circle M Ranch sat at the base of the Big Horn Mountains, where a winter’s worth of snow had brought up green grass and gorgeous wildflowers—pink fireweed, yellow buttercups, white daisies and blue lupines.

      She also appreciated the physique of the man walking away from her. He’d taken off his jacket, and she enjoyed the play of shoulder muscles under his dark plaid shirt, the fit of denim over his narrow hips and long legs. He had certainly changed since high school—though still lean, he carried himself with a confidence the skinny teenager had lacked.

      Yet he’d been the cutest boy in school. Which was why she’d always hugged to herself a secret crush on Ford Marshall.

      Not that she would tell him about it. He was way too sure of himself for her to give him that kind of advantage. Maybe she’d had a lucky escape in high school—a man like Ford would dominate a woman’s life rather than simply share it. And Caroline wouldn’t surrender her hard-won independence just to be someone’s “little woman.”

      This summer, though, she wanted him on her side, which meant mending fences. So she put the truck in gear and followed him down the road, slowing as she came alongside him. Through the open window, she called, “I’m sorry for being cranky. Get in and I’ll take you the rest of the way.”

      He shook his head and kept walking. “That’s okay. I don’t get out enough in San Francisco. Feels good.”

      “Are you going to make me follow you all the way to the house?”

      “It’s only about a half mile.”

      “Come on, Ford. Get in.”

      He stopped, set his hands on his hips and stood facing away from her, gazing out over the land. They were on a bit of a rise and could see all the way to the mountains, plus the ranch buildings in between—a timber-sided house, a big red barn with corrals around it and other structures.

      “It’s beautiful,” Caroline said. “I never realized what a view you have over the valley. My dad’s ranch isn’t nearly this pretty.” Especially considering all the metal buildings set up to house his quarter horse breeding business. With the stallion barn, the mare barn and foaling barn, the indoor arena, offices and equipment sheds, not to mention the landing strip for his plane, the place resembled a military base more than a Wyoming ranch.

      “Yeah, it’s pretty special.” He came to the door and leaned one arm on the windowsill. “You’re a problem, Caroline Donnelly. Do you know that?”

      “I don’t intend to be. Why don’t we let the past be over, and start from here and now?” She held her hand out across the seat between them. “Deal?”

      He stared at her face for a long moment, then his gaze dropped to her hand. His shoulders lifted on a deep breath. “Deal,” he said, clasping her fingers with his. He let go quickly. “But I’m still walking home.”

      * * *

      FORD DIDN’T LOOK BACK when he heard the truck’s engine rev up, or when the rattle of gravel announced a quick three-point turn and a rapid acceleration. He’d spent as much time as he could handle sharing the small space of the truck cab with Caroline. He wanted to clear his head before he had to deal with his sharp-eyed brothers. Teasing was a way of life with the Marshall boys—at the least sign of weakness, they would rib him without mercy.

      He wasn’t sure he could defend himself. Because, as pretty as she had been in high school—and he well remembered lying in the dark in the room he’d shared with Wyatt, thinking about the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts and the cute round butt she got from being a damn fine barrel racer—Caroline Donnelly was a hell of a beautiful woman now.

      The years had refined the elegant bone structure of her face, setting her eyes deeper, sculpting her lips into a delicious smile. Because she didn’t ride as much, her legs were long and slim, shown to advantage by the short skirt of the dress she’d worn today. He’d had to get out of the truck and walk away before she saw how he felt about her. How he’d always felt.

      Not that Caroline would consider dating him, even though he wasn’t one of “those poor Marshall boys” now. Her boyfriends in high school had been the “cool” guys, the ones with nice cars, stylish clothes and plenty of money to spend on their girlfriends. He’d watched them all from a distance, overheard details about the parties, the skiing trips and concerts and vacations. He knew, because his dad talked about it, how fancy the Donnelly house was, how the barn had heated water dispensers in the stalls and, incredibly, a swimming tank for the horses.

      His dad also described life for Caroline and her brother Reid—expensive ponies to ride and train on, handmade saddles and custom bridles and boots, clothes that never seemed to get worn twice. Their vehicles, in high school, were pricey pickup trucks with all the latest gadgets. Nothing was too good for the Donnelly kids.

      Ford had made money over the years, but there was still a big gap between his family’s status and hers. George СКАЧАТЬ