Stranded With The Rancher

Her smile faded. “I’d rather be here with you.” Her voice throbbed. “Thank you for helping me. I know I was the last thing on earth you expected to see arrive with the storm.”

His hands went to his hips in an unconscious male stance that made him even more desirable. Utterly desirable. “You’re right about that, but I admire your calm.”

“Thank you.”

Those piercing blue eyes played over her. “This has been a long day for both of us. Can I get you anything before I turn off the lantern?”

The lines of his rugged features fit the outdoor life that made him so extraordinary. “Maybe some ear plugs,” she teased. The roar of the elements was almost deafening.

“That’s probably the only thing I didn’t bring with me.”

“So I’ve noticed. ‘Everything but the kitchen sink’ has taken on new meaning.”

A chuckle escaped his lips.

Alex took a deep breath. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for putting up with me when you didn’t have a choice. No unwanted visitor was ever treated with better care. I’m ready for bed now.” Though she couldn’t imagine sleeping with the wind threatening to lift the tent off the ground. She’d worry about brushing her teeth tomorrow.

“The heater will go off and on during the night, but you’ll stay warm.”

This cowboy took care of everything. She removed the parka and laid it over the end of the sleeping bag where she’d spread out the blanket. After sitting on the stool to take off the cowboy boots, she climbed in and curled up on her side while she watched him.

In an economy of movement he tidied the kitchen area. To her surprise he walked over and handed her a bottle of water. “You might get thirsty during the night anyway.”

The “anyway” brought more laughter to her lips. His sense of humor shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after meeting his grandfather.

“There should be another word besides thank-you.”

His eyes searched hers for a quiet moment before he reached up and turned off the lantern. The moaning of the wind drowned out any noise he made getting ready for bed. It was the loneliest sound in the world. But with him inside the tent, she knew a strange contentment that was foreign to her.

“Ms. Dorney?” came his voice out of the darkness.

“Please, call me Alex.”

“All right, Alex. I’m waiting to hear what was so important my grandfather sent a woman fresh from the Big Apple up to sheep country.”

“I work for Rockwell Food Business Magazine, based in Manhattan as a contributing writer.”

“I read it regularly.”

She sat up. “You do?”

“It and a dozen other publications that keep abreast of news in the meat industry. Depending on how long you’ve been writing for them, I might have read one of your articles.”

His grandfather’s words rang in her head. Among other things, he’s a sheepman and knows it all.

Alex lay back down, surprised by her own stupidity. Everything was making sense, including the fact that his grandfather read her article thoroughly before asking questions.

“Last Saturday I flew out to Colorado to talk to some sheep ranchers at the Wool Growers Association convention in Montrose. After a few days I flew to Casper to attend a similar convention there. The people in charge told me the best person to ask for information was Royden Fielding.”

“Grandad would have liked to be there, but he needed me to take him, and I had to be up here.”

If he had attended that convention, Alex would have met both of them there. But it hadn’t happened that way. The thought of not meeting Wyatt Fielding bothered her in a way she didn’t understand.

“I called and set up an interview this morning, then flew to Jackson Hole.”

“And you were spared having to spend a wild night in Whitebark.”

She smiled. “Being up here on a mountain with sheep, fighting rain and gale-force winds, is what I’d call the real Wild West. I came to pick your brains about lamb.”

He burst into that rich kind of male laughter she loved. “Before I knew you wrote for that particular magazine, I thought you might be a photographer my grandfather sent up so you could get some spectacular photographs of the mountains.”

“There’s a thought.” She clutched the pillow. “So, when do you fight fires?”

“Several times a week when I’m back in town. But I also have a ranch to run.”

“Your grandfather wasn’t exaggerating about you.”

“He always exaggerates,” he corrected her.

She could believe it, but she also knew that for Royden the sun rose and set with his grandson. “Before we say good-night, do you mind telling me what you did today before I arrived?”

“Is this for research?”

“Yes.” Well, that and she wanted to know everything about him.

“We brought down the last four hundred head of ewes and rams over rough mountain terrain and streams from the ten-thousand-foot level where they’ve spent the summer. Once we start down, they wander off if you’re not chasing them every second. They get lost, caught in shrubs and trees, nearly drown and can fall off cliffs on the way.

“Considering the ewes are pregnant, that makes the journey down more treacherous. If the lamb lovers of this world knew what we go through, they’d pay us billions for the privilege of being served lamb chops and roasts at the dinner table.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Why not? Now, I don’t know about you, Alex, but I’m exhausted. Let’s sleep on the subject, and tomorrow I’ll answer all your questions after we have breakfast and I check the herd with Pali.”

He had to be worse than exhausted. She turned on her other side, away from him, so she wouldn’t be tempted to talk anymore. Alex’s mind filled with pictures of him chasing her instead of sheep all over creation, until oblivion took over.

Chapter Three (#ub5d25701-51d2-5de8-8e29-2c11427b4fd5)

Lamb.

Wyatt’s tired body shook with silent laughter. He knew where this woman had come from and why. But he didn’t understand his grandfather’s agenda.

Had he really not known a blizzard of this magnitude was coming? For that matter, Jose had taken off so fast, his swift exit seemed orchestrated.

Wyatt knew his grandparents had worried about him since high school. A month ago he’d told the whole story to his attorney. Was it possible the private investigator he’d hired could find Jenny? Had the miscarriage ruined her life?

How did her parents live with themselves after hiding their daughter where Wyatt couldn’t find her? How could they have left Whitebark without telling anyone where they were going? The cruelty of never seeing or hearing from her again had astounded him.

But maybe now he’d be given some information. After eleven years, he prayed to God for some closure on what had happened to Jenny.