The Heart Won't Lie

Michael could have told her the truth and suggested they drop the idea. Some still shots might work if they found a docile horse for him. But no, he hadn’t said those things because he’d wanted to preserve the mystique. Ego, pure and simple.

With a sigh, he walked over to the window and looked out at the majestic Tetons. He should have come to this part of the country years ago. A summer on a dude ranch would have given him what he needed and he wouldn’t be in this fix now.

But he hadn’t admitted all his fears to Jack. He was deathly afraid that he wouldn’t have any talent for being a cowboy, no matter how long he worked at it. By cramming his lessons into a week, he could excuse himself if he failed. If he’d taken an entire summer and failed, he’d have been forced to conclude that he wasn’t cut out for the life he wrote about so convincingly.

That would be a tough pill to swallow. He wasn’t sure how that would affect his writing, but he had a hunch it would make a dramatic difference. If he’d never tried to be a real cowboy, then he could hang on to the illusion that such a thing might be possible.

“Mr. Hartford?”

He turned from the window and discovered Keri standing in the doorway. “Call me Michael, okay?”

“All right, if that’s what you’d prefer. Is there anything you need? I ducked out on my job, but I’m available now.”

“Has the mouse received a decent burial?”

“It was quick, but I think the boys would have been satisfied.” She studied him. “It’s the strangest thing, but I feel as if I know you from somewhere. I don’t, do I?”

He didn’t dare ask if she read Westerns, but this was the very thing he’d worried about. “I doubt it. I have one of those faces. People often think they know me.”

“Maybe, but I’ve seen you somewhere. I’ll figure it out.”

That settled one thing for sure. He wouldn’t start growing his mustache while he was here.

“So, is everything to your liking? Have you checked out the towel supply in the bathroom?”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He still couldn’t quite place her accent.

“What’s your pillow preference? You currently have down, but I can substitute polyester fill if you’re allergic.”

“Not allergic. I’m pretty low maintenance.” He had a feeling she was, too. She’d hurried right back without stopping to primp.

“Then I’ll quit pestering you and let you settle in. If there’s anything you need, my room’s right across the hall.”

“It is?”

“I know. It’s not the usual thing to have the employees stay on the same floor as the guests, but Sarah never planned on having more help than Mary Lou, the cook. Then the boys came, which made extra work. When they hired me last summer, they put me up here.”

“Do we…uh…share a bathroom?” That could get quite cozy.

“No, we don’t. That one is all yours. Last fall Jack renovated my space and installed a small bathroom. He also put one in between the boys’ rooms, but it’s tiny, too. The nicest one is yours.” She backed toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything, though. Seriously.”

“Jack said you might give me a tour of the house.”

“He did?” She glanced down at her clothes. Without saying a word, she’d managed to communicate her desperate hope for a shower and change of outfit.

“But it can wait until you get cleaned up.”

Relief showed in her green eyes. “Thank you. I feel gross. Give me fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll give you thirty. Listen, I’ve been trying to place your accent. Where are you from?”

“Baltimore. See you in twenty minutes.” Flashing her bright smile, she turned and walked across the hall.

He gazed after her. He had a hunch she hadn’t been a housekeeper back in Baltimore. Everybody had a story, and he wanted to know hers.

KERI RETREATED TO her room so she could give herself a good talking to while she showered off the grime. She was attracted to Michael, and she needed to put a lid on that inconvenient attraction ASAP. She was a member of the staff, which meant no fraternizing with the guests.

Nobody had told her that in so many words, but she’d been on the other end of the social spectrum. Her parents would have fired any maid who’d shown interest in a houseguest. It just wasn’t done.

The Chances hadn’t turned this upstairs bedroom into housekeeper’s quarters so that she could mingle with the guests. They’d put her here because it was the only space available that also could be plumbed for a small bathroom. If she happened to be across the hall from the extremely good-looking Michael Hartford, she didn’t have to emphasize the fact. God knew what he’d thought when she’d mentioned how close she was to his room.

When she took him on a tour, she’d establish more distance between them. The whole mouse incident had thrown her off and made her forget her position here. She’d even pushed the issue of burying the little rodent when Jack had clearly thought that was nonsense, and she’d made her stand in front of Michael. She’d apologize to Jack about that.

After years of being at the top of the social pecking order, she sometimes forgot that she wasn’t there now, at least not in Jackson Hole. Then again, the Chance family didn’t stand on ceremony with their employees. Back home, the household help wouldn’t dream of calling their employers by their first names. At the Last Chance, first names were all anybody used.

That made it easy for her to forget that she wasn’t in charge around here. She figured the Chances understood why she slipped up sometimes, though. They all knew that anytime she chose, she could tap into her trust fund. She was proud to say she hadn’t needed to.

Eighteen months ago, on New Year’s Eve, she’d scandalized Baltimore society by engaging in an epic girl fight at a ritzy party. Selena had started it, and Keri had finished it. Pictures of the fight had shown up on Facebook, and somehow Keri had become the villain of the piece.

When she could no longer be effective in her job at a Baltimore PR firm because of the gossip, she’d decided that a change of scenery might be a good idea. Wyoming had seemed far enough away to accomplish that, and she’d loved the area when the family had come for ski vacations. She’d flown to Jackson, rented a car and searched for a job.

Lucky for her, the Last Chance had taken her on, and instinct had told her to grab the opportunity. Sure, she could have lived off her trust fund while she was in Jackson Hole, but she’d wanted to see if she could make it on her own. She’d been a trust-fund baby for too long, and she hadn’t realized how that steady income had undermined her confidence.

Earning a living without depending on anything but her own grit and determination had boosted her morale quite a bit. She didn’t miss her old life much. She’d only intended to be here a few months, until the gossip had died down, but the place had grown on her.

Theoretically she could go back to Baltimore anytime, because according to her parents, nobody mentioned the incident anymore. But Keri found herself looking for excuses to stay at the ranch. They’d needed her when the boys had arrived in June, and now they needed her to help with the wedding guests.

Come winter, her services wouldn’t be so critical. She could give her notice then, which would allow them plenty of time to find a new housekeeper. She loved living on the ranch, but she didn’t intend to be a cleaning lady for the rest of her working life. What she did want was still up for debate.

She showered in record time, and true to her word, she made it out of her room and back over to Michael’s in twenty minutes. She’d even managed to blow-dry her hair. Getting dressed was easy these days. Jeans, a T-shirt, running shoes. She no longer spent much time on makeup, either.

Some fancier outfits hung in her closet, but she had no reason to wear them. Once in a while she longed for a reason to put on party clothes, but people didn’t do that much at the ranch, or in the little town of Shoshone ten miles down the road. She’d accepted dates with some of the ranch hands, but jeans were fine for the Spirits and Spurs in Shoshone. Those dates hadn’t resulted in any wild love affairs, either.

Maybe that explained her attraction to Michael. He hailed from her neck of the woods, and she felt that gave them something in common that she didn’t have with everyone here. As she rapped on his door frame to announce her presence, she cautioned herself to be very careful. She might not want to keep this job forever, but she didn’t want to be booted out for inappropriate behavior, either.

Michael closed a drawer and turned. He’d taken off his hat and it lay on the bed, brim side down. She’d have to tell him to flip it the other way, which preserved the shape better.

He glanced at the clock sitting on top of the dresser. “Twenty minutes, and you’re showered and changed. I don’t think I know any woman who could accomplish that.”

“It’s the simplicity of the existence here. Ranch life can be complicated sometimes, but getting dressed for it isn’t.”

“Maybe not if you’ve been here long enough.” He gestured toward his shirt, jeans and boots. “This outfit took an enormous amount of effort.”

“It did? Why?”

“I didn’t want to look like I just stepped out of a Western wear store, so I had someone rough these things up a bit. Everything’s been artificially distressed so it looks as if I’ve been out riding the trails and roping those doggies.”

She pressed her lips together, not sure if she was supposed to find that funny or not.