The Rancher And The City Girl. Kathy Douglass

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СКАЧАТЬ shook her head, then caught herself. Hadn’t her mother drilled into her the proper way to respond to a question? She must be even more tired than she thought. The soft light and the warmth of the room had lulled her into a calm she hadn’t felt since she’d first discovered the criminal activity at her firm. “No, thank you.”

      She wiped her mouth with her napkin and pushed away from the table. Grabbing her bowl, she stood, intending to wash her dishes in the ceramic farm sink beneath the large window. Even from across the room she could see the sink was empty; she didn’t want to leave a mess for Jericho to clean up later. Nor did she want to leave him with the impression that she was the spoiled rich girl he thought she was.

      “I’ll take care of this,” he said, taking her bowl from her.

      “That’s not necessary.”

      “I insist.” His tone ended all discussion.

      “Thanks.” She waited quietly as he washed her dishes, wiped them dry and placed them in the cabinet beside the sink.

      He leaned against the counter and stared at her. For all his concern about feeding her, his eyes were remarkably cold, his voice remote. “I’ll show you where you can bunk while you’re here.”

      Bunk. A cowboy word. Not a word she was used to hearing on Wall Street. It had a nice ring to it. Soothing. It conjured up images of honorable men on the range who would ensure no harm came to anyone. Hopefully, this horse ranch in North Carolina and its owner could provide the protection she needed until the danger passed. And it had to pass, didn’t it? She forced that worry away. She was safe for now, and that was what she would focus on.

      Camille followed Jericho through a narrow hall and up a flight of stairs. A gray and burgundy runner centered on the old oak risers muffled their footsteps. The house wasn’t as large as the Chicago Gold Coast mansion where she’d grown up, but it was a good size and quite cozy. Jericho led her past a closed door and paused briefly before a second.

      He opened the door a few inches. “This is the guest bathroom.”

      She caught a glimpse of a white pedestal sink before he closed the door.

      He opened a door farther down the hall, and she hurried to catch up with him. “Linen closet.” He pulled out towels, folded sheets and two blankets, then handed them to her before shutting the door with a definite click. What? Did he think she would steal his linen?

      He crossed the hall and opened another door but didn’t step inside. “You’ll be sleeping here. This is the only bed you’re welcome in.”

      She gasped, and her cheeks heated with remembered embarrassment. Before she could think up a suitable reply, he’d vanished back down the hall. She heard the stairs creak under his feet, and a minute later a door slammed.

      Truthfully there was nothing she could say to justify her behavior all those years ago. She had bribed her way into his hotel room and gotten into his bed. Not one of her proudest moments. She hadn’t actually planned to seduce him. She just wanted to prove to Jeanette that Jericho wasn’t the man he claimed to be so Jeanette would return to Rodney and things would get back to the way they were supposed to be. She’d expected Jericho to take her up on her offer. Then she would be able to tell Jeanette what he’d been willing to do.

      She’d been wrong. Jericho had taken one look at her, his face twisted with disgust, and left the room. She’d waited for Jeanette to confront her about her behavior, but she never had. Apparently Jericho had never told Jeanette about the incident. That one horrible secret had weighed Camille down for years and was one of the reasons she’d worried Jericho would turn her away.

      Physically and mentally exhausted, and sick and tired of the thoughts that continuously circled her mind, Camille removed her shoes and dropped onto the bare mattress. It was firm and cool and seemed to wrap her with comfort. She’d put on the sheets in a minute. She just needed to close her eyes for a bit and block out everything.

      After a while, she forced herself to get up before she fell into a deep sleep. She grabbed her towels and crept to the bathroom. When she found a new toothbrush and toothpaste inside the mirrored medicine cabinet, she nearly shouted for joy. It seemed an eternity since she’d performed her simple grooming routine.

      She had a brief internal debate, then concluded that she could not possibly wear her underwear a third straight day. Two days in a row was bad enough. Slipping off her panties and bra, she washed them by hand and left them on the side of the tub to dry. She’d slept in her clothes last night, and it looked like she would be doing the same again since she didn’t think Jericho would lend her a T-shirt to sleep in. She was lucky he was letting her stay in his house. She wouldn’t push it by asking for some of his clothes. The idea of wearing something that belonged to him seemed too intimate anyway, so she couldn’t summon the nerve to ask him. Still, she was relieved to know she didn’t have to be ready to flee at a moment’s notice. She was safe. That had to count for something.

      * * *

      Jericho closed the shed door, then walked across the yard to the barn, Shadow circling his heels. The dog had been a surprise birthday present from Jeanette. Her last gift to him. The pesky dog provided the only type of companionship Jericho wanted even if Shadow couldn’t follow the simplest command.

      Shadow didn’t make subtle hints about getting on with his life or give unsolicited advice. The dog didn’t presume to know what Jeanette would have wanted for him. The dog simply let Jericho be himself, feeling—or as the case may be, not feeling—whatever he wanted.

      Jericho went to each stall, checking on the horses. Although he’d settled them for the night before Camille’s sudden appearance, he needed distance from the woman who’d invaded his home, disrupting the solitary life he now preferred.

      There was a time when he’d been a people person. He’d enjoyed the company of others and had entertained for both business and pleasure. His house had been the gathering place for his friends and he’d held many an impromptu party. His parents had raised him to seize the day. He’d embraced his father’s mantra: No day is more important than this one. No breath more valuable than the one you are taking. Make each moment count.

      He’d done that. He’d wrung every bit of pleasure out of his life. He’d met Jeanette while he’d been visiting his sister in Chicago. One look was all it had taken for him to realize they were made for each other. She’d made him appreciate his life even more. He’d been content before he’d met her, but once they’d married, his joy had known no bounds.

      When she died from complications from her pregnancy, she’d taken the best part of him with her. He no longer felt joy with each day and struggled to find value in each breath. He’d be the first to admit that he’d become a hermit. He’d shrunk his business, dismissing all but two ranch hands and limiting his interactions with them to the barest minimum. He’d removed himself from the world, and only the most stubborn of his friends insisted on coming to the ranch. He had managed to survive their occasional intrusions. Somehow he knew he wasn’t going to deal with Camille’s constant presence in the same way.

      Turning out the lights, he made his way back to the house. The moon was bright, lighting his way. Not that he needed it. He’d grown up on this piece of land and knew it like the back of his hand. When times had gotten tough, his grandparents had sold off all but the fifteen acres surrounding the house. Over the years, his parents bought back thirty acres. Jericho had worked hard to earn money and had bought back the remaining 340 acres that had been part of the Joneses’ original property. He’d intended to purchase two hundred СКАЧАТЬ