what seemed like an eternity, he stared at Merry. “You know, if you’re scared to be alone, I can sleep here, too.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I meant that I’ll take the couch in the living room,” he added, and grinned. “But really, there’s nothing to be afraid of. There hasn’t been a snake or a burro in the house in…” He looked at his watch. “In at least two hours. But let me get my rifle, and I’ll have a look under the futon for you.”
Terror struck deep into her bones. Snakes? But even in the dim light, she saw the twinkle in his eyes, and she knew she was being teased.
“Buck, you don’t have to sleep on the couch. You can go to the…um…” She couldn’t think of the word that Karen had used earlier. “Barracks?”
“Bunkhouse.”
“Yes. Go ahead. We’ll be all right.”
He tweaked the brim of his hat and walked out of the room. In the doorway, he paused and looked back. “Thanks again…for everything,” he said, but didn’t leave. “Um…Cait might have a nightmare. I just wanted you to be aware of that.”
With that, he was gone.
A nightmare. Terrific.
She could make an eight-course meal for a party of fifty. She could decorate a three-thousand-room hotel and casino. She could write bestselling cookbooks, change the Porter’s home into a successful dude ranch like they’d asked her to do, but she knew nothing about children.
Meredith Turner had never been a child herself.
The windows of the room stared back at her like huge, blank eyes. She undressed in the bathroom.
Even though Buck had been teasing her about snakes, she hated to have her fears thrown in her face. She hated to show one chink in her armor. Her competitors would like nothing better than to find something on her, something past or present that they could zero in on.
She was supposed to be the perfect woman, the perfect hostess, the perfect cook and homemaker.
Meredith Bingham Turner, Miss Hospitality.
If she believed her own hype, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do.
She found a sheet, blanket and pillow in the linen closet in the bathroom, and began to make up the futon.
Listening to Caitlin’s gentle breathing, she wondered again what demons had a hold of the sweet little girl.
Merry knew about demons. She was a personal failure, in spite of her business success. Men wooed her, then they used her for her clout or for her bank account, or both, so it was impossible to know whom she could trust.
She couldn’t get a compliment from her parents even if she received every award known to humankind. She needed to get better control over her company, and she needed a break from men. Her one true friend was in the hospital, and Merry had a gut feeling that Bucklin Floyd Porter and his daughter were going to test her mettle.
So no matter how handsome he was, no matter how delicious he looked in jeans, no matter how sweet he was to his daughter or how his deep voice made her think of moonlit nights and satin sheets, the last thing she needed was to get involved with him or Cait.
Then again, he hadn’t asked her to get involved. She was just here to do a job. And that was a good thing because she had nothing else to give anyone.
Chapter Four
Buck shook out the folded serape and picked out a couple of pillows that were positioned on the furniture.
He’d decided to sleep on the couch after all, just in case Cait had her usual nightmare. He wanted to be nearby. Karen usually handled nightmare detail, since his presence sometimes made things worse, but Meredith shouldn’t have to deal with it.
He also didn’t blame her if she didn’t exactly feel safe. After all, she was a city girl who didn’t know her way around a ranch or the desert.
With her big green eyes, shiny blond hair and designer everything, Meredith was a tenderfoot and totally out of her element. It wouldn’t be long before she was gone, and that was fine with him. Although he appreciated her help with Karen’s illness, and her attempt to be nice to Cait, he didn’t want her changing his ranch—his life—around.
Until he could put her back on a plane and get the time to work on his furniture—his plan to save the ranch from bankruptcy—he’d keep an eye on her, for his sister’s sake.
He supposed he owed Merry a debt of gratitude for coming to help. It wasn’t her fault that the ranch was going under. He’d tried like hell, but he couldn’t turn a profit. There had been too many unforeseen expenses after his parents had died. Because he’d wanted his brother and sisters to go to college, he did what he had to. He refinanced and took out loans. Because he wanted Caitlin to go to the best psychiatrists around, he took out more loans.
At this point in time, the Rattlesnake Ranch needed to diversify and not depend only on cattle. He’d hit the area banks and applied for more loans so he could buy a couple of bulls with a good track record that he could breed to some of his more outstanding cows. He also wanted to buy a half-dozen good bucking horses and some basic breeding equipment that he needed to get started. All his applications were denied. Bank after bank told him that he had too big of a debt load already.
Karen, Louise and Ty had insisted that something serious had to be done. Hell, Buck always thought that, too, which was why he wanted to get into rodeo-stock contracting.
Then Karen suggested the dude ranch thing, saying that the profits could go into paying off all the loans first. Then he could develop the rodeo-stock part of the operation.
That might happen if he lived long enough, but it wouldn’t happen in the year that he said he’d give them to make the dude ranch a success.
Already he couldn’t stand the thought of strangers living in his house. The ranch meant everything to him, much more than it did to his brother and sisters. Karen wanted her own nursery and flower shop in town. Louise had set her sights on being a corporate lawyer. Ty—well, Ty didn’t know what he wanted yet, but he definitely didn’t want to be stuck on the Rattlesnake much longer. Ty liked to roam.
Buck wanted to buy them out, and he was pretty sure they’d all want to sell. They just didn’t have the love of the land that he had. He knew that they were only sticking around because they felt that they owed him.
But they didn’t owe him anything. After the car accident in Florida that killed his parents, he just did what he had to do, plain and simple, and was glad to do it.
He’d been in the Army and assigned to Fort Benning, Georgia, when he was called into the chaplain’s office and told that his parents had died. It had been his folks who’d encouraged him to take some time off from the ranch and see the world after he graduated, and when the Army recruiter came to his high school, he’d thought it was the perfect answer. He could see the world and serve his country while doing so. Mostly, though, all he ended up seeing was Fort Benning for a year as an assistant to the captain of Human Resources.
He’d received a hardship discharge from the Army and came home to take care of his brother
