A Chance to Love Again Page 2

  Rachel and Will waited, shaking from their wet, soggy clothes. If she didn’t get Will home soon, he would end up sick. She pulled him to her side, trying to warm him up, but the child’s teeth chattered.

  After wedging the limb under the stuck wheel, the man turned to Will. “You think you can climb up on that wagon seat and hold those reins to steer the horses?”

  Will’s eyes rounded and he nodded furiously.

  “Wait a minute. Why can’t I steer the wagon? Will is too young.”

  “No offense, ma’am, but Will weighs less than you, and you and I will be pushing the wagon from behind.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t like the sound of this.”

  The man nudged the brim of his hat back and rested his hands on his hips. “Do you want to get out of here? Or would you prefer to spend the night shivering in your wagon?”

  “Ma, I can do it.” Will was almost jumping up and down in his excitement. “I can.”

  Soon it would be full darkness, and truth be told she had no idea how to get them out of the mud. She glanced at the man who viewed her with raised eyebrows.

  “Very well. Will, climb up onto the wagon seat. But be very careful.”

  He climbed up and took the reins in his hands, then turned to look at the man. “Now what?”

  “Hold on, son. Just let me and your ma get behind the wagon. When I tell you to, slap the reins, but not too hard, we don’t want the horses bolting. This has to be slow and easy. Slow and easy usually works just fine.” As he looked at her, his grin told Rachel he was not talking about the wagon.

  Oh, how she wished when they pushed the wagon, he’d fall head first in the mud.

  The brim of her hat landed on her face again.

  “Put your shoulder to the back of the wagon, ma’am. When I give your son the word, we both push. Use all the strength you have. If we do it right, the wheel should go over the limb and out of the mud.” He rotated his neck. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, Will, go ahead and slap those reins—not too hard.”

  “Yes, sir.” Will had to slap the reins twice before the horses paid any attention. They started up and Rachel and the man pushed. After several grunts and pushing with all her might, the wagon moved forward and the wheel rolled over the limb. The whole thing rocked and she thought for a minute it would overturn.

  “There you are, ma’am.” The man leaned back and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then he tugged on the brim of his hat and headed to his horse.

  Rachel scooted onto the seat and took the reins from Will. As much as she hated to do it, the good manners she was raised with took hold and she looked in his direction. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” That lazy grin did strange things to her insides. She was most likely hungry and cold. It couldn’t be anything else.

  The group continued on their way until they reached the turnoff for the ranch. “Thank you again, sir. I appreciate your help.”

  He gave her a brisk nod and frowned as she turned onto the lane underneath the arch with “Lazy Sunset Ranch” in large letters. “You live here?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  His frowned deepened. “Are you Mrs. Richardson? Big Bob’s wife?”

  “No. I’m the cook for the ranch.”

  He grinned. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “What?”

  “I’m Rusty McIntyre, the new foreman for Big Bob.”

  Chapter Two

  Two weeks later, Rusty stepped out the front door of his small house on the Lazy Sunset ranch and slapped his hat against his thigh before settling it on his head. He glanced to his left as the ball of energy named Will Stevens raced from his house next door. “Hi, Mr. McIntyre. Whatcha doin’ today?”

  The kid had been following him around from the minute he’d moved into his quarters. He would have preferred bunking with the other men, but they were crowded in the bunkhouse. And after the awkward introductions were made between him and Rachel, Big Bob had slapped him on the back and walked him in this direction, telling him the foreman always occupied this little house next to the cook’s home.

  “We have some fixing to do today with the north fences,” he told Will.

  “Can I come?”

  Rusty squatted and eyed the boy. “Now you know your mama doesn’t want you hanging around the men. I heard her tell you she wants you to do your chores and then catch up on your schoolwork.”

  “I hate schoolwork. Everyone in my class reads real fast, even the little ones, and I’m always last. And Miss Ames writes stuff on my slate that makes no sense to me.”

  Rusty tugged on the boy’s hat. “Well, it appears you should be doing your schoolwork then, because you must need the practice.”

  Will kicked at the small pebbles on the ground. “Mama wants me to go to college like Uncle Jess and Uncle Michael.”

  “That sounds like a good idea to me. I wish I’d gone to college.”

  His eyes grew large. “For real?”

  “Sure. I wouldn’t mind getting all dressed up in a suit every day and making my money with clean hands.” Since the kid’s ma had her heart set on the boy going to college, the little white lie about wanting to dress in a suit for work every day didn’t trouble him. Frankly, he agreed with the kid. School was always hard for him, too, and he loved working outdoors. If he had to be cooped up in an office all day, he would surely lose his mind.

  “Will? Where are you?” Rachel’s call from her front door had the kid leaning in close to Rusty.

  “Once I finish my chores and schoolwork, can I come with you? Please?”

  Rusty stood, one knee bent, his hands tucked into his back pockets. “That depends on your ma.”

  As Will raced away to plead with his mother, Rusty thought back to the night when he arrived at the ranch. After Rachel swallowed her surprise, they’d proceeded to the main house. Several of the cowboys came out of the bunkhouse to unload the wagon. Rachel and Will scurried away, most likely anxious to get out of their wet clothes.

  Big Bob had made it a point to introduce the two of them the next morning. Rachel continued to look as if she’d swallowed something nasty each time she had to deal with him. He chuckled. If he was interested in a forever woman—which he surely wasn’t after his erstwhile fiancée, Beatrice’s deception—he would certainly look in Mrs. Rachel Stevens’ direction.

  A young widow, she was feisty, curvy, hard-working, and not too bad on the eyes. Hell, she was easier to look at than any woman he’d seen in years. And that little bit of feistiness would give him something to overcome, and channel in the bedroom. Yes, she would be a fine wife for some man.

  Forget that. I’ll stay as far away from forever women as I can get. Lesson learned.

  After speaking with his mother, Will entered his house, his shoulders slumped. A righteous mama bear proceeded in his direction. “Mr. McIntyre, a moment, please?”

  “Sure. Good morning, Mrs. Stevens. Another lovely day, it seems.”

  “Yes. Lovely day. Mr. McIntyre, I do not wish to have my son following cowboys around all day.”

  Rusty used his thumb to tip back the brim of his hat. “Well, ma’am, that would appear to be somewhat of a problem since y’all live and work on a ranch.”

  “I realize that, Mr. McIntyre. However, I want more for my son than just being a cowboy. He will be going off to college to have a better life.”

  He grinned, knowing it would set her off. “Really? I knew the boy was smart, but I had no idea he was ready for college.”

  She huffed. “You know what I mean. Just see that you stay away from my son. I don’t want him getting ideas that I’m working very hard to avoid.”

  Her blue eyes flashed, her cheeks grew rosy, and he couldn’t think of anything but kissing those pursed lips. All that fire would be exciting in the bedroom. Instead, he opted for a gentleman’s response. “As you wish, ma’am. I will no longer speak with the boy.”

  “Oh, don’t b
e ridiculous. Of course you can speak with him, just don’t—you know—encourage him in a lifestyle I don’t want for him.”

  “Did you ever think perhaps what he wants is more important?”

  “He’s a child.”

  Rusty tugged on the brim of his hat. “I will honor your request, Mrs. Stevens. Have a pleasant day.” He strode off, having wasted too much time already.

  ***

  Rachel watched him swagger away. That was the only word that fit the man’s stride. All loose limbed and comfortable. And his backside in those tight Levi’s he wore was definitely something to admire. By other women, of course. She had no interest in Mr. McIntyre or his backside.

  Liar.

  Even though it was merely eight o’clock in the morning, she needed to get started with the noon meal and then supper for more than twenty hungry cowboys. She’d already served breakfast, having risen with the sun. After her short break to awaken Will and get him fed and started on his day, she returned to the cookhouse to prepare the noon meal.

  Her assistant, Mac, was already pulling out vegetables to chop. Earlier, he’d brought in a round of beef that she would cut into pieces and make cowboy stew. That would simmer all morning, and she would serve the meal at noontime, along with loaves of fresh baked bread and apple pies. She planned beans and corn bread for supper. With the men’s sweet tooth always looking for a treat, she would also make fried apples with bacon.

  “Rachel, if you have a minute this morning, can you look in on Mrs. Richardson? She wasn’t feeling too well today, and I think some company would help her.” Big Bob stood in the cookhouse doorway, leaning his forearm against the frame.

  The man stood well over six feet and weighed two hundred forty pounds of all muscle. Despite his size, he was soft-hearted and devoted to his wife. Suffering from arthritis for several years now, Mrs. Richardson’s world had shrunk from the ranch, to the house, to her room, to her bed. A woman from town came in each morning to tend to her personal needs. Rachel liked Mrs. Richardson immensely and felt sorry that the illness had deprived her of a full life.

  One of Rachel’s favorite things to do was to clean up after supper each night, and then she and Will would go to the ranch house where Rachel would read to Mrs. Richardson. She had tried on several occasions to get Will to read aloud, but despite his age, he still stumbled over the words and became embarrassed. She didn’t understand why a child his age didn’t read better.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll be glad to sit with her for a while. Perhaps I’ll bring a new book to start.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. I really appreciate it.”

  Rachel hated the sadness in the big man’s eyes. He adored his wife; they’d been married for more than twenty years. Already in their forties when they wed, they’d never had children.

  She couldn’t imagine her life without Will. She and Billy had an acceptable marriage, but nothing so wonderful that she wanted to repeat it. They got along, but once Will was born their focus turned to him, and they more or less drifted apart.

  She was saddened when he died of pneumonia, but certainly didn’t feel the heartbreak she knew Big Bob would if Mrs. Richardson was taken from him. Perhaps she wasn’t capable of that kind of love. Another reason to avoid getting married again.

  The morning flew by, and by noon she was ringing the old bell outside the cookhouse for the men to return for dinner. Her always hungry son came dashing from the house, racing to where Rusty walked, taking his hand as they headed to the tables. Her stomach tightened. She really did not want him tagging after the ranch foreman. Besides the fact that she and the man disliked each other, she wanted Will to admire other men. Like Uncle Jesse or Uncle Michael. Not some cowboy.

  Once the room filled up, she stood behind the table that held the large pot of stew which she ladled into each man’s bowl. They moved along the line, picking up chunks of bread. Mac went from place to place pouring coffee.

  After all the cowboys had been served, she cut large pieces of apple pie and left it on another table for the men to help themselves. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her dress and watched her son and Rusty chatting away as if they were old friends. She needed to get Will into town to spend time with Michael and Uncle Jesse. Those were the men she wanted him to admire.

  “Ma, I finished my chores and schoolwork. Can I go with Mr. McIntyre to see about the north fence?” Will hopped up and down on one foot, his young face tight with excitement.

  She smiled at her son’s enthusiasm. Even though the last thing she wanted to do was let him go, she would never be able to stand the boy’s disappointment.

  Rusty strolled up and placed his hand on Will’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure the boy stays out of trouble.”

  Her heart sped up. What was it about this man that affected her so? That lazy smile was a deception. There was nothing lazy about Mr. McIntyre. She’d seen him at work when she was hanging her wash. One time he removed his shirt and hung it on the corral post as he worked with one of the horses. All golden skin over taut, rippling muscles. A vision she should not have enjoyed as much as she had.

  “It’s not that. I wanted him to practice his reading this afternoon.”

  “Aw, Ma. I did my schoolwork already.”

  “I know, young man, but your reading needs a lot of practice.”

  “Man does not live by books alone.” Rusty flashed her a smile.

  She rolled her eyes. “I won’t even comment on that since I’m pretty sure you know you just now misquoted the Bible.”

  He pushed his hat back with his thumb and looked down at Will. “I’m sorry, son, but if your mama says no, then that’s that.”

  Wonderful. Now she was the villain. If she was fully honest with herself, it wasn’t merely Will’s reading that held her back. She was uncomfortable with him spending time with Rusty. They really knew very little about the man other than what Big Bob had mentioned when he’d introduced Rusty to everyone. Seemed their new foreman hailed from Kansas. With all the cowboys in Oklahoma, why did Big Bob have to bring someone from Kansas?

  It wasn’t her place to question her employer, so she had nodded her ‘hello’ as if she’d never seen him before in her life. Since Big Bob had seen fit to introduce them, apparently Rusty hadn’t mentioned their prior meeting, either.

  Unable to stand the dejected look on Will’s face, she closed her eyes and said, “All right. You may go with Mr. McIntyre to check the northern fence. However, I expect you to do as you are told, and not wander off. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Will turned to Rusty. “Can I take the palomino?”

  “Ah, I don’t think so, little buddy. I haven’t had a chance to evaluate all the horses yet, so I’d rather you take Cheshire. I worked with him yesterday, and I think he will suit you fine.”

  “But he’s an old horse.”

  “Will, if you don’t behave, it’s up to the house with you,” Rachel said.

  “All right, Ma. Sorry.” He turned to Rusty. “Cheshire is fine, Mr. McIntyre.”

  “Then we better head out. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  Rachel bent to kiss Will’s cheek, only to have him wipe it off, as he glanced at Rusty. “Aw, come on, Ma. I’m not a baby.”

  Her brows rose. “Is that so? Well, I’ll have you know not only babies get kisses.”

  “Your ma has it right there, son. Kissing is certainly not just for babies.” Rusty tilted his lips in a slow, lazy, smile, his eyes full of mirth as he slanted her a look.

  Much to her annoyance, the fluttering started up in her stomach again. Drat the man, and how she reacted to him. Attempting nonchalance, she fixed the collar on Will’s shirt, then patted his shoulder and walked off. She had a great deal of work to do, and didn’t have the time to stand around accepting questionable looks from cowboys.

  ***

  Rusty watched Rachel stroll away, her hips gently swaying as she returned to the cook house. Ringlets that had fallen from her topknot teased the ba
ck of her long, slender neck where he’d love to place his lips.

  He had no idea why he taunted her like that. Oh sure, he’d love to take her to bed, but she was a forever woman, and that put her firmly on the ‘do not touch’ list.

  “Mr. McIntyre, are we ready?” Will’s voice brought him back to the present and his focus on where it should be. Certainly not on Rachel Stevens’ swaying hips.

  “Sure are, son. Let’s go saddle up.”

  Will was a cute little kid. He peppered Rusty with questions all afternoon. While they checked fences, he learned that Will never knew his father, thought his Uncle Jesse and Uncle Michael were nice, but not as much ‘fun’ as Rusty was. His ‘real’ name was Zander William Stevens, a name his daddy insisted on. But his ma never liked Zander, so she called him Will. He disliked schoolwork, found reading hard, and wanted a puppy but his ma said no.

  After about an hour, Rusty realized Will had tilted his hat the same way Rusty did, and held the horse’s reins in an identical manner. He wanted to know why Rusty didn’t have any kids, why he left Kansas, and didn’t he agree that being a cowboy was the best job on the earth. In some ways it was flattering to be looked up to that way, something he’d never had before. But the reality was the boy’s ma was right. Being a cowboy was tough, hard work, and would never get you the respect in life that his two uncles had with their fancy college degrees.

  Maybe Rusty didn’t have a fancy degree, but he’d been saving his money for years, and in about another year or so, he’d have enough to buy his own ranch. Nothing big to start with, but enough for a beginning. It had been his dream since the first time he tied a bandana around his mouth to keep from eating dirt on the trail. He loved the work, but he wanted his own place.

  The time passed, with Will talking his ears off when he wasn’t asking questions. What amazed him more than anything was how much he enjoyed having the kid with him. Too bad a man had to have a wife in order to have sons. He could get used to this imitation the kid was doing all afternoon. But the idea of trusting another woman had him breaking out in a cold sweat. He’d done that before, and swore he’d never do it again.