Sweethearts in South Dakota (At the Altar Book 14) Page 4

  “Yes, help yourself.” She took a quick bite of her peanut butter–slathered English muffin and bent to pull on a pair of socks. Why was she embarrassed to have naked feet in front of him? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t see all of her eventually.

  “What are you doing today?” he asked curiously, sitting down across from her at the table, the signs of last night’s impromptu card party having been cleaned up sometime earlier.

  “Uh,” Willa started, suddenly unable to remember. She couldn’t look away from him. Ryder’s arms were as nicely muscled as his chest. He sure wasn’t built like she imagined a big city business man would be. “Fences. I’m checking fences today.”

  “Do you do that on horseback?”

  “Sometimes. We also have ATVs that we use. Riding the perimeter and making sure the fencing doesn’t need repair is a pretty regular thing.”

  “That’s so cool. You’ll have to teach me how to ride one. I would imagine a four-wheeler would be a lot easier to manage than a horse.”

  She was about to respond when, on the counter, her two-way handset crackled from its charger.

  “Willa, do you read?”

  She crossed over to the counter and picked it up. “Yeah, Harvey. What’s up?”

  “Billy cut himself again, working on one of the tractors.” September at the ranch meant the men would be filling up some of their time with equipment maintenance, and Billy, the newest hand, always seemed to be cutting himself on something or another. He was only eighteen and clumsy as a newborn colt.

  “I’ll be right there.” Willa was already grabbing a first aid kit from one of the many that were stashed in locations around the ranch. Mrs. Hollis kept them stocked with everything from Band-Aids to needles and suturing thread, and there were several more scattered throughout the property. Ranch life was full of unexpected injuries.

  “You need any help?” Ryder offered. “I’m actually first aid certified.”

  “No. I mean, no thanks. I’ve stitched up more guys than I can count and Billy the most often. He’s used to it.”

  “Hold on,” he said, standing up before she could head out the door. “You forgot something again.”

  “What?” Willa asked, confused.

  “This.” Ryder’s kiss tasted like warm coffee and hot male, and he smiled down at her as he pulled away. “Will you be back for lunch?”

  Normally, Willa didn’t eat until dinner, around four, and especially on days that she was late getting started, but suddenly, she didn’t want to wait that long until she saw Ryder again. She smiled back. “I’ll be here by one.”

  “Good,” he grinned. “Someone needs to protect me from Mrs. Hollis. She threatened to come back today and beat me at cards all over again. This time with gin rummy.”

  Ryder watched Willa head out the door, her black braid swinging back and forth as she moved. He liked keeping her off balance. He was still a little stung to find out that Willa’s reasons for marriage were somewhat mercenary, but he was up for the challenge of winning her over to his way of thinking.

  She’d gone her own way for a long time, and it would take some ingenuity on his part to help her see that she didn’t have to do things solo—that he could be the partner she didn’t know she needed. Lachele may have been right with her advice yesterday after all. “Be careful,” she’d said. “Careful and patient.” Ryder headed out of the kitchen whistling.

  Four

  Willa wasn’t back to the house by one. She wasn’t back by four thirty. She didn’t come stumbling through the door, dusty and dirty and in a terrible mood, until almost eight o’clock that evening. She wasn’t in any frame of mind to talk to Ryder, who was sitting at the kitchen table with his arms folded, watching for her as she came in.

  “Hello, wife,” he said coolly, raising one eyebrow as he looked at the long rip in the leg of her jeans, sticking uncomfortably to her shin where blood had dried.

  She didn’t respond. Just grabbed one of the ever present first aid kits and removed some gauze and antiseptic.

  Ryder wanted to be angry with Willa, especially when she refused to even answer his greeting, but he didn’t miss the twinge of pain on her face as she bent over to deal with an angry-looking scratch. She had already had a rough day. “Here,” he said, relenting. “Let me do that.” He knew she must be exhausted when she didn’t even protest, just leaned back in the chair with a long sigh.

  “What happened to you today?”

  “I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay?” she said shortly, still feeling guilty that she’d broken her promise.

  Ryder waved that off and dabbed competently at the edges of her cut. “I’m not talking about that. I figured when I didn’t see you at lunch that your day didn’t go as planned. How’d you get this?”

  Willa had to focus on his words. His big hands were smooth and gentle, and she just wanted to enjoy the rare feeling of contact with another person. Especially, she thought with an involuntary shiver, looking down at his bent head, such a good-looking one. “I fell off my horse and caught my leg on the saddle buckle on the way down.” It was embarrassing to admit. She’d been on horseback since she was old enough to walk, and falls were rare, but she hadn’t been paying attention. “He got spooked by a rabbit. Strained his fetlock a little bit, so we walked back.”

  “Couldn’t you call anyone for help?”

  Willa looked at him, obviously confused. “Why would I do that?”

  “Why, indeed?” Ryder murmured, fixing a bandage into place. “Do you want something to eat?” he asked, putting the first aid kit back in the cupboard and washing his hands. “There’s leftover chili from yesterday.”

  “That sounds great.” Willa got up to get the bowls, but Ryder turned her toward the living room with firm hands on her shoulders.

  “Go. Sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

  Feeling awkward at having nothing to do, Willa went. She was settled into the comfy couch, half-asleep, when Ryder brought her a steaming bowl of chili, piled high with cheese and sour cream, the way she liked it. He set a glass of iced tea on the coffee table next to her. In a few minutes, he was back with his own bowl, and they settled in to a companionable silence while they ate, until he broke it with the dreaded words: “We need to talk.”

  “About what?” Willa asked carefully, taking a sip of the tea.

  “Sex, among other things.”

  Willa choked on the tea. She waved him away when he tried to get up. “I’m fine,” she sputtered. “Just went down the wrong way.” Her face burned in embarrassment, and she wanted to kick him when she saw him nod, trying to stifle his grin.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Ryder said soberly. “So, I think we should wait.”

  Wait? Wasn’t that what they’d been doing? Willa struggled between disappointment and relief. “That’s fine,” she finally said. Didn’t he think she was attractive? She could have sworn by his kisses that he did, not that she had any real experience to go by. Maybe all men kissed like he did. Her belly fluttered just thinking about it. No, she didn’t think there could be any man who could kiss like Ryder could.

  “I’d like to wait until we get to know each other better,” Ryder added. “But to do that, we’ll need to spend time together.”

  Willa automatically started to protest that she couldn’t possibly take time away from everything, but Ryder stopped her. “You came into this marriage with goals in mind. Your goal was to keep this ranch, and you’ve accomplished that. But I went into marriage with a goal, too, and that was to have a real marriage. I can’t have that with a stranger, and I won’t sit here all day while the wife of my dreams is just out of my reach, waiting for her to find time to get to know me. I know the ranch is important to you. So, I’ll come to you. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be everywhere you’re going to be.”

  A thousand different reasons that Ryder’s idea was a bad one came to mind, but when Willa opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was, “I’m the wife of your dreams?” Instantly,
she wanted to take the words back. She had sounded so needy.

  But Ryder’s blue eyes warmed with sincerity, and his lips curved up in a soft smile. “Willa, I’m absolutely certain you’re the wife of my dreams. I’m even more certain that I’m the man that God put on this earth exactly for you. Give us a chance to find out for sure, will you?”

  Her feelings for her new husband were in such an emotional tangle right now—fear and happiness, mixed with some kind of longing she couldn’t even put a name to—Willa was afraid that he was right. Unable to speak, she just nodded. Lord help her, she didn’t think that she could deny this man anything.

  Willa thought the early wake-up would throw him off, but Ryder bounced out of bed as soon as the alarm went off at five. He was dressed in comfortable jeans, his new boots, and a long-sleeved blue shirt that made his eyes look even bluer than they already were, making coffee when she came into the kitchen. The toaster popped behind him, and he quickly spread peanut butter on an English muffin.

  “Sit down,” he offered, pouring coffee into a mug. “You like these for breakfast, right?” He set a plate in front of her.

  “You don’t miss anything, do you?” Willa asked, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Ryder sat down across from her with his own breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “I’ve got to check on Star, and after that, I need to finish riding the fence line in the far pasture. Later on, I’ll be doing calf checks, and after that, updated records.” She sighed. “I hate updating records.”

  “You’d rather be outside, huh.”

  “You’ve got it.” Being cooped up was not Willa’s favorite thing, especially in these last few fleeting days of good weather.

  “Let’s get to it, then.” Ryder smiled, finishing up his coffee. “Consider me your extra pair of hands.”

  She eyed his hands. Big and broad and capable, but not even remotely callused enough to handle the kind of work she did every day. “All right. If you’re sure,” she said in a warning tone. “But don’t complain to me tonight when every muscle in your body is begging for mercy.”

  Ryder winked. “Maybe we can give each other massages.”

  Their first stop was the horse barn. Ryder wasn’t sure what he should have expected, but aside from the obvious smell of horse, the place couldn’t have been cleaner or more organized. A long row of polished wooden doors stretched down on either side, and each horse had a spacious stall, with his or her name on a gold plaque above the entrance. Sunshine, Lazy Pete, Marigold, Frederick . . . each horse stuck his head out to greet them with a welcoming whinny or, in Frederick’s case, an attempted nip to the shoulder. Ryder’s quick reflexes kept the animal from getting a bite, and he laughed.

  “Tough guy, huh?” he asked the big black animal, who watched him with a fiery glint in his dark eyes. Ryder kept a safe distance as the horse peeled back his lips over yellow teeth and gave him a sharp whicker.

  “Careful,” Willa said. “This bad boy has brought down tougher cowboys than you.”

  “He doesn’t scare me.” It was true. Ryder had never been around horses, but he’d always admired their beauty and intelligence. Horses didn’t scare him, but he sure wasn’t going near this one until he had some more experience with them.

  They continued down the hall to the last stall, where a brown and white horse gave an excited noise at the sight of Willa. “Hey, boy,” she crooned, rubbing her knuckles gently over his nose. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Does he answer?” Ryder asked curiously.

  Willa laughed as the horse nudged her back a whole step with his huge head. “That’s how he says hello.”

  “He’s only a baby like that with Willa.” Brodie stepped out of the stall behind them. “Morning, Willa. Ryder.” His nod was friendly, but his tone was cool.

  “Hi, Brodie,” Willa said. “Uh, how’s it going this morning?”

  “Fine.”

  Brodie obviously hadn’t reached the forgive and forget stage of things yet, Ryder noticed. He pulled out his PR persona and did his best to smooth the breach. “Morning, Brodie.” He grinned and stuck out his hand.

  The handshake wasn’t grudging, but because Brodie’s hands were covered with dirt, bits of straw, and something kind of sticky, it was a little unpleasant. Ryder met the other man’s eyes and didn’t wipe his hand on his leg, as much as he wanted to. Brodie quirked a reluctant grin, appreciating Ryder’s effort. “Willa got you out working today?” he asked in a friendlier tone.

  “Yep. I wouldn’t let her leave me behind this time.”

  Willa huffed, but the tension was broken. “You both know I’m standing right here, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Boss Lady.”

  “Knock it off, Brodie. You know I hate it when you call me that.” She socked him hard on the shoulder, and his grin came a little easier.

  “If you’ll both excuse me,” he said, “I’m going to wash my hands. Finished preg-testing Ramona.” He nodded his head toward the stall behind him and smiled at Ryder one last time, a little challengingly, before he walked away, boot heels clicking merrily on the cement floor.

  Ryder paled, looking down at his own dirty hand. This time, he did wipe it on his jeans as Willa laughed.

  Ryder figured he could get used to this.

  The sun had come up in a bursting blaze of pinks and golds as he bounced along the fields in a super duty pickup truck behind the one his wife drove. Cattle milled toward them as they loaded the feeders with the bales of hay they carried to supplement the animals’ grazing. The air was cool, only in the low fifties, but he easily worked up a sweat, his muscles warming as he loaded and unloaded the back of the truck. It felt good. Willa seemed to work effortlessly, her long, lean frame moving with the grace of a ballet dancer as she swung from one task to the next. It was hard for Ryder to keep his eyes off her.

  After they’d distributed the feed and deposited the trucks back at the lot, things got even more fun. After a few minutes of instructions, Ryder was blasting around on the back of a four-wheeler. He was a good driver, but on city roads with traffic clogging the lanes all around him. The Black Hills demanded a different set of driving skills, and more than once, a hollow would appear before him, and all four tires would be airborne before the four-wheeler came down with bone rattling force, spitting dirt behind him as the tires gained traction.

  “This does not feel like work,” he shouted at Willa over the roar of the engines.

  Even though she wore a helmet, he could swear he felt her roll her eyes at him. “That’s because you’re not working!” she yelled back. “You’re supposed to be checking the fence for broken wire.”

  After that, it was a tightrope walk between watching where he was going, being aware of his surroundings, and keeping an eye on the fence line. They stopped three times to fix damaged areas, and he gained firsthand knowledge of the need for a million first aid kits as he took a slice on the knuckle from a loose barb.

  “See?” Willa nodded as she smacked a huge Band-Aid on his stinging hand. “Now you’re starting to get it. You up to date on your tetanus shot?”

  “Yes, Mom,” he joked. “You going to let me lead the way on the way back?”

  “I suppose so. It’s not like you can get lost following a fence.”

  Willa tried to be exasperated as she watched Ryder hot-dogging on his four-wheeler like a teenager, but she couldn’t help but feel a little surprised glow of pride. He’d kept up. She’d expected that having a city slicker like him following her around all day would be nothing but a nuisance, but Ryder took instructions like a champ and worked as hard as any of her ranch hands. He was actually helpful.

  And boy oh boy was he yummy to look at, she thought, trying not to notice the way his jeans hugged his backside as he lifted his seat to go over a particularly big bump. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus her thoughts back on the tasks at hand, only to rattle her own teeth together over the same bu
mp in the trail.

  Willa tried not to feel abandoned later when it was time to do her hated recordkeeping, and she headed back into the main house to get cleaned up. After they’d returned from checking fences and grabbed some of the cheeseburgers Mrs. Hollis was cooking up in the bunkhouse kitchen, Brodie and Ryder had apparently bonded over lunch, in that weird way that men had, and decided to be BFF’s. Now, her new husband was currently getting his first horseback riding lesson.

  So, not only was she stuck in the house, Willa thought, trying not to pout, but Ryder wasn’t. It wasn’t until she’d settled in at the computer in the office that she realized that Brodie was teaching Ryder in the paddock directly in view of the office window.

  She knew she shouldn’t have been, but Willa was surprised to see that Ryder was taking to horseback as easily as he’d taken to everything else she’d thrown at him that day. He was sitting straight and perfectly comfortable on the back of Marigold, one of the more docile mares, as Brodie sat on the fence, calling out instructions. She forgot all about paperwork as she watched for almost an hour as he went from walking in slow circles around the paddock, to finally cantering. The man looked like he’d been born to ride. She was beaming with pride when she caught her reflection in the blank screen of the computer.

  What was she thinking? Willa’s grin turned to a scowl. She’d already wasted half the afternoon inside and hadn’t even booted the darned computer up. That man was nothing but a distraction. A nuisance. A city slicker who didn’t have the first idea about the way things worked on a ranch. She couldn’t help it. Her eyes drifted up to the window again, and her heart squeezed as she watched Ryder easily dismount, and then laugh as Marigold swung around to nuzzle his shoulder. The horse was obviously infatuated with the man.

  And, thought Willa with a growing feeling of discomfort, Marigold wasn’t the only one with an infatuation.

  The next morning, the alarm went off again at five. Willa quickly and awkwardly untangled herself from Ryder—somehow, despite their brains’ desire to wait on physical intimacy, their bodies had their own ideas in the middle of the night—and bounced out of bed like she had springs in her feet. Ryder, however, rolled over and felt every single one of his muscles seize up into painful knots all at once.