My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) (13 page)

She placed the cane in his outstretched palm and watched as he felt the timeworn smoothness of the wood.

"This was a great idea, Lori. Thanks." He took the bandage and began wrapping his ankle. As soon as he finished and connected the metal hooks, he tested his ankle by wiggling it slightly.

His grimace conveyed how painful the ankle still was.

"Is it too soon?"

"No. My ankle doesn't feel good, but it's feeling much better than it did before. The extra support helps."

Lori smiled. "Good. I've got more wood in the kitchen. Do you want to see if you can make the fire?"

He raised himself to his good foot, then, leaning on the cane, he slowly put some of his weight on the injured foot. "Not too bad, as long as I don't put all of my weight on it."

It took a couple of false starts, but eventually he made his way the few feet to the fireplace. The triumphant grin he shot her made it worth her efforts to get him mobile again.

"Awesome. You can get started, and I'll go grab the other logs." Lori darted to the kitchen and back.

Monty Joe had lowered himself to the hearth and was working on the fire. Lori joined him and handed over the logs, one at a time.

She was careful not to brush hands with him, fearful of how her body would react to his touch. The more time they spent together, the more difficulty she suspected she'd have in leaving. And she did have to leave.

She had a new life waiting for her, in Dallas, not in South Texas.

And unfortunately, even if Monty Joe liked her, rather than considering her someone to be avoided, his life was bound to the ranch.

Perhaps it was fortunate for her peace of mind, then, that he didn't much like her. If he liked her and she liked him, she'd be forced to choose between love and what she believed would make her a better person.

Deep in the recesses of her psyche, a little voice whispered,
But didn't you think that becoming a better person would bring you the kind of love you need? The forever-after kind of love?

She did think that, and it had provided some additional fuel to her need to remake her life, but it hadn't been her sole consideration. It was more like icing on the cake of her need to reform. And maybe even the chocolate sprinkles on top of the icing.

Obviously, though, she'd be looking in the wrong place for forever love if she thought it might come from Monty Joe's direction.

He tolerated her. Only that. She would firmly keep it in mind—and tell her psyche, or any other part of herself, that she couldn't go loving someone who couldn't or wouldn't love her back. So there.

Clutching those thoughts, she asked, "Can I do anything to help?"

He turned and their gazes met, and for a moment, she thought he was going to say something suggestive. Not in a sexual way, but more in a romantic way. Which was crazy. And that craziness was confirmed when he said, "I started a new list for you."

Chapter 20

While Lori went about her evening chores, Monty Joe continued building the fire, and mused over what had just happened.

Lori had run from the room as if she were a calf he'd intended to rope.

Maybe she'd been right.

He mentally kicked himself. Yes, he found Lori more attractive than he'd expected. Yes, her personality was very different from his original perceptions. And, yes, she'd pleasantly surprised him when she'd brought him the cane and bandage.

But why did he so desperately want to reach out and grab her to him and deliver a mind-blowing kiss? At least, other women had told him his kisses were mind-blowing. Lori was contrary enough, though, it was possible she'd think otherwise.

Maybe she wouldn't want him to kiss her again.

When he'd kissed her before, he'd had an ulterior motive. This time it would be entirely for selfish reasons.

Now who was behaving selfishly?

The kindling took hold, and the fire roared into a gorgeous flame.

Monty Joe raised himself to his good foot, then hobbled, leaning on the cane, back to the sofa.

There was one thing he really hated, and that was self-reflection. Generally, working on the ranch was all the reflection he had time for, and he didn't think highly of those who lolled around worrying over minutiae when so much hard work in this world needed doing.

His injured ankle had kept him sidelined much more than he was comfortable with. He'd previously had neither the time, nor inclination, to think about himself and his motivations. But now he had time and then some.

And it wasn't pretty.

He'd accused Lori of being self-centered. But wasn't he, too? Especially with how he wasn't planning to tell her the weather was clearing up and she'd be able to leave tomorrow. He'd even hidden the radio from her.

Shame washed over him like waves in the water trough. Enough to shake him up, if not enough to spill over the sides.

Lori had put his, his animals' and the ranch's interests far ahead of her own the entire time she'd spent under his roof. He hadn't given her the credit or gratitude she deserved.

And he planned to pay her back by hiding the information she needed, that she'd shortly be able to travel back to her life in Dallas.

This kind of behavior wasn't what he expected from others, much less from himself.

He heard her open the back door. He would show her the radio and tell her about the weather. It was the right thing to do.

"I hear the fire rip-roaring," she said before he saw her. She rounded the corner, looking as pretty as any woman he'd ever seen, despite some straw in her mussed-up hair, and stains on her shirt and slacks.

The urge to bundle her into his arms reared up like a bucking bronco. But if any man didn't deserve a kiss, it was him.

He pulled the radio from under the pillow and waved it in her direction. "Good news. The weather is clearing tomorrow."

She stepped closer, passed him, then held her hands out in front of the fire. "That's fabulous news."

He didn't think so, but the honorable and right thing to do was agree with her. "Yeah, you'll be able to head back to Dallas."

The very idea made him miserable.

"As soon as I warm up a little, I'll go make us something to eat."

"I am a mite hungry."

"I thawed some steaks. Do you think we can cook them on the fire?"

"In the cast-iron skillet, it should be doable."

"Meh, meh," said Billy the Newton, now standing beside the sofa and, Monty Joe suspected, about to try nibbling his socks again.

He shuffled his feet, hoping to distract the goat. "There are some crackers in the pantry."

"Ha," said Lori. "I thought I'd open some of the canned vegetables to go with our steaks."

He frowned. He wasn't too much into vegetables, but potatoes were acceptable. "I think there's a few more potatoes. Wrapping them in foil and putting them in the embers should do the trick."

Lori faced him. The grin she shot him made his insides light up. "Got it. I'll take care of the potatoes first, so they can get started. How long do you think it'll take to cook them?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, but we can test them along the way."

"I'll be back with them in a minute, then." Lori stepped around the sofa and headed out of the room.

As she passed him, Monty Joe thought about grabbing her, but then thought better of it.

As much as he longed to kiss her, he was kinda hungry. Well, he was hungry—in more ways than one.

Chapter 21

The truth was, Lori hadn't done much cooking on her own. While she and her sisters sometimes got together, especially to make desserts, cooking a meal was not her forte. She was really proficient with a microwave—well with the microwaves she'd used on the airliners or in her crash pad.

But tonight she had to prepare their supper without electricity, so she was particularly stumped.

She'd brought one of the battery-powered lanterns into the kitchen, and she set it beside the stove.

She washed the potatoes, then double-wrapped them in foil, just in case.

She almost dreaded returning to the den with them, especially with the way Monty Joe had been glaring at her through slitted eyelids.

She wasn't sure if he was mad at her, or if it was something else, but she'd felt an animal stalked by a hunter.

Not comfortable at all.

She sighed, grabbed the potatoes and returned to the hunter's lair.

Monty Joe turned and glared at her again. She fought a case of the shivers. What was up with him? What had she done wrong now?

She approached the fireplace, a foil-wrapped potato in each hand. "Should I just slide them into the embers at the bottom of the fire, or should I put them into the fire?"

"Embers at the bottom," came his curt reply.

O-kay.

She pushed the potatoes into the fire, and using her fingertips, shoved them as far into the embers as possible, until the heat of the fire had her pulling her hand back.

The smoke from the fire smelled sweet and tangy, sort of like Texas barbeque, and she wondered what kind of wood it was. "My family always uses cedar for firewood. This smells different. What kind is it?"

"Mesquite," he replied, the word sounding clipped and forced.

She turned, and their eyes met. What she saw in his gaze both amazed and frightened her. Was it possible to be pleased and scared at the same time?

His eyes were dark, hooded, and yet an almost palpable energy thrummed between him and her. Some kind of bond?

How could a meeting of the eyes feel so significant?

Why couldn't she seem to pull her eyes away from his?

His gaze conveyed desire, hunger and something else. Something she hadn't seen in a man's eyes before, and it was that uncertain something that made her want to run.

She'd seen lust before, and it wasn't the uncertain something. And until she knew what the uncertain something was, she couldn't trust her own reaction to his gaze, because the depths she could tumble to were more than she dared explore.

But she did so much want to walk the few feet to join him and wrap her arms around him.

He'd probably push her away and hobble off as fast as a bum ankle and a cane would allow.

She dropped her eyes and shook off her fears. No reason to go there. And though she'd moved from refusing to like someone who didn't like her, and into I-really-like-this-man territory, she wouldn't let herself or her heart go any further.

* * *

Monty Joe patted the sofa cushion beside him. "Come take a load off."

"Take a load off?" She looked at him as if he'd sprouted a third eye.

"Have a seat. Relax. Get comfortable for a few minutes."

She nodded but didn't move.

His plan to get her close enough to kiss wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. "You've worked like crazy all day. We have a few minutes before you have to start the steaks, so come sit a spell."