The Bride Prize

“I interrupted a stampede to the shower didn’t I?” One side of his handsome mouth quirked up.

Corrie was still a little too surprised to realize until after he’d leaned down to reach for her other foot that his arm had effectively trapped her ankle on top of his hard thigh.

“You never minded getting dirty,” he remarked, “but once you got to the house you were always in a girlish rush to get cleaned up.”

Then he had her other foot up and was stripping off the boot before he settled that foot next to the other on his thigh. The idea of having both her feet in his lap seemed incredibly intimate, which finally goaded her out of her silence.

“Is there a reason you’re so friendly with my feet?” she asked as she pulled them back, relieved when he allowed it.

“No good reason,” he admitted. “Just wondered how long you’d let me do it. You ever had a foot massage?”

“Nope. Don’t want one either.” Corrie felt a little prudish suddenly for taking this so seriously, but something had changed between them. Shane had always treated her as a pal, one of the guys. He was gentler with her of course, but there’d never been even a hint of real man/woman things, or even much acknowledgment that she was female.

Yes, there’d been that time when she’d turned her head at the wrong time as he’d been leaning over to whisper something silly to her. His lips had brushed hers, but they’d both jumped back as if they’d been burned. Then they’d laughed like hyenas over it. This wasn’t at all like that one time.

Now Shane’s smile leveled a little, but the intent look—that new look—in his eyes sent heat into her face. “You’re still an innocent, aren’t you, Corrie?” His voice dropped lower. “I can’t tell you how rare and special that is out there in that big, wide world.”

Corrie gave him a wary look, unsure what to say to that. Or to any of this. That seemed to tickle him. His face brightened and he chuckled as he leaned forward to tug on a lock of her hair before he abruptly stood.

“You go get that shower, darlin’. I need to get on down the road, but I’ll call you later. ’Kay?”

Darlin’? Corrie’s gaze was all but glued to his and she’d been unable to break contact with it as he’d risen. Her soft and belated, “’Kay,” was part squeak, part whisper, as if she’d somehow lost her voice.

She didn’t get up as she watched him turn and stride to the hall then to the front door. Once he was out of sight, her gaze fell and fixed on the footstool.

Confusion swamped her, and for the first time in her life, Corrie felt the magnitude of her inexperience. She could talk work or business or politics with just about any man, but she was ignorant about male/female things. She knew about courting and the mechanics of sex, but she had only hazy theories about how those things actually got started in real life.

Or, more specifically, in her life. The boys she’d grown up around hadn’t minded working alongside her on roundup or doing ranch work or on projects at school. She was a hard worker and they’d liked that she’d pulled her own weight and that she wasn’t squeamish or timid with the stock. And she’d been a favorite in classroom situations where the teacher wanted boys and girls to work together. Probably because she’d gotten good grades in everything, and the boys hadn’t needed to worry that Corrie Davis would get lovestruck and moon over one of them.

But when it had come to school dances and other dating opportunities, they’d passed her up like a mailbox along a highway. Town girls and girls who’d learned how to bat their eyelashes and flirt had gotten the dates. Girls who’d worn makeup and panty hose and short little blouses and skirts that bared midriffs and thighs. Girls who’d seemed to have been born knowing how to use their female powers to wrap boyfriends around their little fingers. Not girls like her, who could rope and ride, arm-wrestle them on a dare, bait a fishhook, and go hunting.

It had been the town girls’ example that she’d tried to follow when she’d fallen for Nick Merrick. Some of those girls had been plain, but they’d made over their plainness with eye shadow and other little beauty tricks from magazines. Her mistake had been in thinking Corrie Davis could do the same, with the same happy results.

Thinking of all that again reminded her that she’d been feeling more than a little weary of the sameness of her life lately, the solitude. She’d been in town from time to time the past few weeks, and seen a handful of old schoolmates with their husbands and kids. She’d told herself that being twenty-four wasn’t anywhere near old maid status, not at all. But she’d felt a little low for a while.

Now Shane Merrick was home and he was…flirting with her? The fact that she’d never had a man flirt with her made her uncertain, though the rare, so rare thrill of the notion excited her.

Corrie propped an elbow on the chair arm, not realizing for several moments that she’d pressed her fingers against her mouth.

Had Shane been flirting?

The numbing sameness of her life had lifted the past few minutes. It’d probably be back again tomorrow, but today…

Today the pattern—the rut—had been broken. That low feeling was gone, though she wasn’t sure she trusted the reason. She wasn’t even sure the reason was real, and yet suddenly she had the feeling that for the first time in her plain-Jane, tomboy life, she might actually have a chance for a little romance.

To maybe fall in love a little with a man who might fall a little in love with her. Maybe she wasn’t so impossible after all. Maybe love wasn’t so impossible. And if love was possible for Corrie Davis, maybe marriage and kids were also possible. Maybe. At some point.

By the time she got her shower, ate lunch and tried to concentrate on paperwork, she was struggling between common sense and the tantalizing notion of possibility. Common sense finally won out, as it always did, and that fine, all too hopeful—and a little giddy—feeling leaked away.

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS hard for Nick Merrick to think of Corrie Davis as a femme fatale. He still didn’t understand what his kid brother had seen in her years ago, not when he compared Corrie to the pretty and far more sophisticated girls Shane had preferred in high school.

And still preferred, judging by the bevy of buckle bunnies who’d trailed him on the rodeo circuit. Two of those women had already called the ranch and left messages for him. A third had called after Shane had gone over to the Davis Ranch.

Nick assumed that’s where Shane had gone, because he’d spiffed up just enough to hint he wanted to make an impression. Most of his other old girlfriends had either married or moved away, so it made sense he’d been on his way to see Corrie. Besides, five minutes after he’d walked in yesterday afternoon, he’d mentioned her. He hadn’t mentioned any of the others.

Corrie Davis was the one who’d encouraged him years ago. Nick didn’t know how influential she’d been over Shane during his rodeo years, but her potential to sidetrack his brother again was worth considering.

She’d grown up on a small ranch, taken it over after her father’s death and managed to keep it going. But she’d have no idea of the complexities and demands of the massive operation Merrick Ranch was, and even less about other Merrick interests.

Shane was rebel enough to still be infatuated with the idea of striking out on his own again, which was why he was bucking the notion of coming back to Merrick Ranch to stay. And of course the fact that Corrie was her own boss would also appeal to Shane. Her example as a reasonably successful small-time rancher would no doubt fuel Shane’s notions of independence in a way that being handed almost half a small empire would not.

In truth Nick knew if his situation and Shane’s were reversed, he too might have chafed at the notion of being a second-fiddle owner to an older brother who had final say. Nick himself might have been lured by the notion of finding a way apart from Merrick money to make his mark.

But Nick was obliged to their father and generations of Merrick history and tradition to make an effort to bring his brother back into the fold. Family duty wasn’t a take it or leave it proposition, and it was past time for Shane to live up to his share of their obligation.

Their daddy had seen Shane’s dream of rodeo glory as a character failing. While Nick had never agreed with that, he’d also felt the pressure of wanting his kid brother to measure up to their daddy’s expectations and prove himself to their old man. Nick still wanted to see that, even if their father was no longer around.

Though he didn’t like to face the idea, Nick sometimes felt as if Shane’s refusal to take on his share was an indication that he’d failed to instill the right values in Shane. After all, Shane had been more his responsibility than their daddy’s those last years.

Nick already knew that this was his last opportunity to persuade Shane to come home to stay. And if that meant chasing Corrie Davis away again, then it was something he was compelled to do. He’d done it before and she’d been bright enough to comply. Though Shane had gone off the track anyway, at least he hadn’t married her.

On the other hand, Shane’s head had been full of rodeo six years ago and maybe Corrie was sensible enough to know she wouldn’t have liked driving all over the country living out of motel rooms.

And because her elderly father’s health had been starting to decline, she probably wouldn’t have been comfortable going off with a husband who had rodeo fever. But now that Shane was through with rodeo, the problem Corrie Davis posed had again become an issue.

Wondering what Corrie might still feel for his brother was second only to the question of why his brother was so attracted to a female like her. If he could figure that out, he might be able to find a way to make her look less attractive. And without her influence, Shane might come back into line that much sooner.

Nick was still thinking about Corrie when he heard Shane come in from the back patio and call out to their housekeeper. The fact that he was home made Nick consider the wisdom of going directly over to the Davis Ranch. If he could do something to dissuade Corrie from taking up with Shane again, it’d be better to do it right away before anything got much of a start.

He closed the computer program he’d been using and shut down, then reached for a cell phone before he headed for the kitchen. Shane was gone by the time he got there, so he let himself out the back and walked purposely toward his truck.

It took twenty minutes to drive to the Davis Ranch. Time enough to think about what he’d say, but also time enough to realize how dictatorial he’d sound. Though Corrie Davis wasn’t known for a quick temper, she had more than her share of pride.

And she’d run her own small place for a little over four years. She wouldn’t look favorably on a ranching neighbor she rarely saw who suddenly showed up to stick his nose into what she’d surely see as her private business.

The things she’d let him get away with saying, unchallenged, six years ago might go over badly this time. He wasn’t normally a subtle man, mostly because he was too blunt and focused on efficiency to bother with subtleties. But perhaps subtlety was the only way to handle her this time.

Maybe showing up on Corrie’s doorstep would be enough to remind her he was still around, still paying attention, and she’d be prompted to recall how strongly he’d once disapproved of any wedding plans between her and his brother. Maybe she’d sense that he disapproved just as strongly now. If she didn’t, he could be more direct.

The drive from the highway to the Davis ranch house was little more than a mile. As he came over the slight rise that managed to block the view of the midsize house and outbuildings from the highway, his gaze homed in on the slim woman who was bent slightly over the flower beds along the east side of the house.

He recognized Corrie right away, but what got his attention was that her normally braided hair hung loose like a glossy mantle, and it now dangled like a dark curtain over the blossoms. She straightened briefly to swing that glorious length behind her back, then bent again to empty a metal pail of water near the base of the flowers.

She finished and turned to look in his direction about the time he pulled his pickup to a halt in the drive. If she was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it. Of course, she had to have heard the truck engine as he’d driven closer. Plenty of time to conceal her reaction.

As he got out and started across the grass that was more brown than green, Nick wasn’t able to keep from ogling Corrie’s beautiful hair. But that only lasted a second or so before his gaze moved over the rest of her.