Название: Her Wyoming Hero
Автор: Rebecca Winters
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance
isbn: 9781472013637
isbn:
That’s why she needed this week in Wyoming first to prepare Andy. It would mean treading carefully to broach this plan with her son. If his anger grew any worse, he could possibly require professional help. What if in time Andy turned into his grandfather, outgrowing the sweetness of his nature he’d been born with?
“Honey?” she said quietly. “We’ve arrived.”
His eyes blinked open. They were a lighter gray than Winn’s. His cheek had a line indented into it from lying against the seat. When he slept he became her dear son again, instead of the impossible nine-year-old child she no longer knew.
“Do you need to go to the bathroom before we leave the plane?”
“No.” His rude answer resonated in the jet’s interior. He unfastened his seat belt and got up with a scowl on his face. “I told you I don’t want to be here.”
She was sick for him, knowing he was a volcano ready to explode from all of the pain and emotion he held inside. Kit had lost her influence over him years ago, but she was his mother and he needed her. Even if he wasn’t aware of it.
Because the family had her trapped in an emotional vise of guilt, she’d been ineffectual in dealing with him. Now, that was going to change—she couldn’t live under the same roof with her in-laws any longer. She had to leave, and when she did there’d be no going back.
With his shoulders slumped, Andy started down the aisle behind the other passengers without saying anything else. She grabbed her handbag and followed him to the exit. When they reached the inside of the terminal, Kit saw a cowboy in well-worn boots striding toward them with unconscious male authority. A brown Western shirt and jeans covered his tall, fit physique.
The striking male looked to be in his early thirties. He tipped back his sand-colored cowboy hat, revealing a widow’s peak of raven-black hair. There were no rings on his fingers. “Mrs. Wentworth?”
As she moved closer his dark brown eyes sized her up. They were neither admiring or leering, one of the two looks she was used to receiving from men. For the first time since she could remember, she saw a guarded look coming from the stranger’s eyes and wondered why.
“Are you Mr. Lundgren?”
“No. I’m Ross Livingston, his business partner.” He possessed a deep voice, but his civil response didn’t have the Western twang she’d expected.
“I remember your name from the letter. It’s a great pleasure to meet you. This is my son, Andy. I’m sorry if you had trouble meeting this earlier plane. We’ve been in Norway and caught a flight out of New York to Denver that put us in here ahead of schedule.”
“No problem at all. We’re glad you arrived safely.”
Still feeling unsettled by the way he’d been looking at her, she said, “We’re very honored you would choose our family when there are so many others affected by the war. Andy’s father would be incredibly proud.”
“After your husband’s sacrifice, we consider it our pleasure.” He stepped forward to shake their hands but focused his attention on Andy. “Welcome to the Teton Valley Dude Ranch, son.” After a cough he asked, “Have you ever been to Wyoming?”
“No.” The peeved sound that came out of Andy was totally mortifying to her.
Kit glanced at their host. “I’m afraid he just woke up from a sound sleep.”
“I understand. Long transatlantic flights do the same thing to me.” He’d said it with urbane sophistication, acting as if nothing was wrong, but she knew he knew there was plenty wrong with her son. “Let’s gather your luggage.”
They walked over to the carousel. “We have three cases. They’re the navy ones with the red-and-white trim.”
He reached for them, and they followed him outside past the other passengers to a black, four-door Jeep. He stowed the suitcases in the rear with what looked like effortless ease. To her consternation, the play of hard muscle across his back and shoulders drew her attention without her volition.
Andy just stood there without helping, causing Kit more embarrassment. Their host spoke to him. “Do you prefer the front or backseat?”
“Back,” he mumbled.
“I’ll sit with you, honey.” Kit opened the rear door and climbed in before Mr. Livingston had time to help. Andy got in next to her and pulled the door shut. Their host slid his powerful body behind the wheel of the Jeep, coughing again before they took off.
She glanced out her window so she wouldn’t be tempted to stare at the way his black hair curled in tendrils against the bronzed skin of his neck. Since seeing him walk toward her in the terminal, she’d felt breathless, assuming it was because of the six thousand feet or more altitude after coming from sea level. But upon closer examination, she realized it was the stunning-looking male driving the Jeep who’d caused her lungs to constrict.
The farther away they got from the airport, the freer she felt, despite the tension emanating from both her son and the enigmatic male in front.
Maybe not enigmatic. That wasn’t the word she was looking for. Still, something wasn’t right. The cowboy’s attitude wasn’t as warm as the tone of his partner’s letter that had touched her heart. She would have to wait until tonight after Andy had fallen asleep before she’d be able to apologize to their host about her son.
Perhaps coming here for the first week of September rather than anytime in August had put them out, though they hadn’t seemed to mind when she’d asked if she could change the dates. After the generosity of these marines, changing the dates to please her in-laws had embarrassed her terribly. When she got the opportunity, she would explain what had happened.
Still troubled by her thoughts, she saw a jet climb into one of the bluest skies she’d ever seen. With the Grand Teton in the background, the sight was magnificent beyond words. She watched until the plane was a mere speck before she sighed with relief. They were really here, delivered to the small town of seven thousand people. It wasn’t just a dream.
She’d been living for this moment. From now on their future plans rested solely with her.
Suddenly she felt their host’s piercing glance on her through the rearview mirror. She could almost believe he was reading her mind. “If you’re hungry, say the word and we can stop for a bite to eat in Jackson. Otherwise dinner is served from five to eight in the dining room of the main ranch house.”
Anyone watching or listening would think he was being perfectly polite. He was, but behind his benign suggestion she still sensed he had reservations about her.
“I don’t want to eat,” Andy muttered to her before he turned and hunched against the door.
Kit didn’t know if their host had heard him or not. Her son had completely forgotten his manners. “Thank you for asking, but we had a meal before we landed so we’re fine until later.”
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