Bachelor Father

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

PROLOGUE

I’M GOING TO DIE. The rapids pulled her under again. Through the churning bubbles Katherine saw a tree root. She grabbed at it, but fists of water punched her away. Fighting to the surface, she gulped in more water than air. Then the current took over again and slammed her against a submerged rock. She ignored the pain and tried to get a grip on the mossy, slippery surface.

No luck. The water closed over her head. Air. She needed air. But she was so tired. So very...no, damn it! Flailing her arms, she broke the surface again and choked as she tried to breathe.

“Here!”

Rescue! The possibility ran through her like an electric charge. Nearly blinded by the water pouring from her hair into her eyes, she struggled to turn in the direction of the voice. There...just ahead...a branch being held over the tumbling water!

“Grab it!” yelled the man.

She had one chance at this, she thought. One chance at life. As the river swept her toward the branch, she offered up a quick prayer and reached for the branch with both scraped hands. Contact!

But the river wouldn’t let go. It tugged and pulled, trying to work her loose from her salvation.

“Wrap your arms around it! I’ll bring you in!”

Following his orders took faith. She had to loosen her handhold to wrap her arms around the branch, and she was sure she’d be swept downstream in the process of getting a better grip.

But she wasn’t. Inch by painful inch he worked her toward shore, until at last he could touch her hand. Once his fingers circled her wrist, she knew he’d saved her. Dizzy with gratitude, Katherine glanced up at the man who had just become the most important person in her life.

* * *

HE COULD HAVE MISSED HER, Zeke thought with a shiver. Headed back to camp with the string of trout he planned to cook for dinner, he could just as easily have cut through the trees instead of following the river. But an uneasy feeling he’d learned not to ignore had made him skirt the banks and check the rapids.

She’d scared the hell out of him. Adrenaline pumped through his system after he hauled her out of the water and she flopped facedown on a bed of wild grass.

He crouched beside her, his heart racing. “Was anyone with you?”

She gasped a few times. “No.”

He swore. Although he didn’t have to worry about looking for a drowning victim downstream, he wanted to shake this idiotic woman for traipsing around in the wilderness by herself. She’d almost paid the ultimate price.

But he’d saved her, and now he had to deal with the consequences of that. He’d deliberately left his cell phone at the ranger station, figuring he was off duty. Dusk was nearly upon them.

He leaned close to her. “Do you have a camp nearby?”

“No.” Her breathing was steadier, but she didn’t move from where she’d landed. “Lost my pack...in the water.”

Zeke recognized a New York accent. Lord deliver him from greenhorns who thought Yellowstone was a slightly more rugged version of Disneyland. He sighed. “Then I guess you’ll be spending the night with me.”

CHAPTER ONE

Nine months later

WHAT A CIRCUS. From the porch of the main house, Zeke surveyed the crowded grounds of the Lost Springs Ranch for Boys. In all the years he’d spent as a kid on this ranch, he’d never seen the place so packed with people. But that was the idea—to get folks involved in this bachelor auction Rex Trowbridge, an alumnus who was now on the board of directors, had cooked up to raise money for the ranch.

Zeke longed to stay where he was, comforted by the familiar feel of the porch rail under his hand. But he had maybe five minutes before he had to walk out to the arena and climb up on the auction block where a gang of ranch alumni were gathering. The aroma of barbecued ribs filled the air, and fiddle music rose above the buzz from the crowd. Even CNN had shown up to film the action, so it looked like Rex would get the corporate sponsors the ranch needed to survive.

And Zeke wanted the ranch to survive. Lost Springs was his safe place, the haven his mind returned to whenever he felt rootless and alone. His thumb on the porch rail brushed over a small, crude carving of a lone pine. When he was ten he’d used his pocketknife to cut his mark into the wood, fully expecting to get in trouble for it. But he’d wanted to put his stamp on the place so that years later he could come back and find proof that Zeke Lonetree had been here.

He hadn’t been punished for carving the tree into the rail. Every time he’d returned to the ranch he’d checked that nobody had sanded it down—to reassure himself that some things in life stayed the same. The thought of Lost Springs closing was more horrible than the thought of taking part in this bachelor auction, so he’d agreed to be here. But Rex had no idea how much it was costing Zeke. Walking up on that platform would be like slicing off a chunk of his soul and offering it to the buzzards.

A piercing whistle sounded above the hubbub, followed by shouted comments directed at Zeke from the auction block.

“Yo, Lonetree!” called Shane Daniels, one of the alumni who’d become a champion bull rider and a close friend. “We ain’t got all day, son.”

“Yeah, get your Native American butt out here!” yelled Chance Cartwright, who’d made good as a horse breeder and trainer. “All these women saw Last of the Mohicans and they want you bad.”

Zeke groaned and wished he could treat this auction the way Shane and Chance did, as a big joke to be enjoyed. But both of them were used to being in crowds and rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. In fact, most of the guys on the block had high-profile, public positions, while Zeke’s park ranger job in Yellowstone allowed him to spend most of his time the way he preferred—alone in the wilderness.

“Move it, Lonetree.” Amos Pike, a toy manufacturer, motioned Zeke over to the platform.

Zeke took a deep breath and reminded himself why he was doing this. A phone rang inside the ranch house, but unfortunately it wasn’t Zeke’s job to answer it. He couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. Shane had given him a new Stetson for luck. With a sigh he tugged it low over his eyes and started down the porch steps.

“Zeke?”

He turned.

Rex, the guy responsible for his current misery, pushed open the screen door. He had a cordless phone in one hand with his thumb over the mouthpiece. “Come on in for a second,” Rex said.

Zeke was delighted for any delay, but still he gestured halfheartedly toward the arena. “The guys want to get started.”

“I know. We will in a minute. But it looks like you’re being pulled from the lineup.”

Hope lightened the heaviness in Zeke’s chest as he followed Rex into the cool interior of the ranch house. “Pulled?”

“Yeah. Let me finish my discussion with this lady, and then you can talk to her.”

Zeke listened to Rex’s end of the conversation and figured out that someone was making a large donation in order to take Zeke off the block. He didn’t understand what was going on or why, but he wasn’t about to complain. He might still be obligated to a woman for a date of some kind, but at least he’d be spared the agony of walking the runway. He’d take it.

“Okay,” Rex said to the person on the other end of the line. “That sounds great. I’ll let you work out those details with him. And thanks again for your generosity, Ms. Rutledge. You’ll be helping many young boys get a better start in life. Here’s Zeke.” Rex handed over the phone. “Way to go, stud,” he murmured.

Zeke frowned in confusion as he took the phone and covered the mouthpiece. “I have no idea what this is about, Rex.”

“Well, when you do, I hope you’ll fill me in. My curiosity’s killing me. Listen, even if you’re out of the auction, how about hanging around, anyway? Some of the kids were hoping you’d give them an update on the wolves in the park.”

“Sure.” Still feeling bewildered, Zeke held the phone to his ear. “This is Zeke Lonetree.”

“Ah, Mr. Lonetree. I’m Naomi Rutledge, editor in chief of Cachet.”

Cachet. He’d heard that name somewhere, but he couldn’t quite place it.