Okay, she got it. He was warning her off. Brady didn’t need trouble and that’s how Tex had pegged her. Surprisingly, his assessment hurt. She wanted to tell him he was wrong about her, that she wasn’t the type to make trouble, but was that true? She’d shown up with little luggage, no past, and was obviously on the run from something. People didn’t usually run away from good stuff in their lives.
She stood up. “I have my reasons for being here,” she said. “I’m not going to explain them except to say that they have nothing to do with anyone else. You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to mess up Brady’s perfect life.” She brushed her hands against her rear and walked down the steps. “I have some work to finish up in the barn. I’ll see you later.”
She headed around the building without waiting for him to respond or looking back to see if he waved. The comfortable mood had been broken.
When she reached the barn, Princess had the cats lying in a nearly perfect circle. Some were still grooming, but most had already stretched out for their morning nap. She thought about the dog’s odd behavior and the cats allowing it. Was it any stranger than Brady’s collection of strays?
She remembered a Christmas special on television when she was growing up. The title eluded her, but the show had been about a land of misfit toys. That’s what they were here on the ranch. Misfit people, and Brady was their leader. Oddly enough, she sensed she could feel safe here. At least until it was time to move on.
If she was smart she would use her time here to figure out a plan. At some point she was going to have to go home and face Hal. A twinge of guilt flickered in her chest. Maybe she should have called him. But what was there to say? Abandoning him at the church was a pretty clear message. She doubted he was expecting or hoping for a reconciliation. Hal was the consummate politician—he knew when to cut his losses. No doubt he was relieved. Her behavior proved she wasn’t cut out to be a politician’s wife. Not getting married was better for both of them.
Randi grabbed a halter and headed toward Casper’s stall. She might as well exercise the gelding before it got too hot.
As she led the horse outside, her thoughts strayed back to Grand Springs. Even though not marrying Hal had been the right thing to do, she was embarrassed by her behavior. She was twenty-four-years old. When was she going to stop running out on her problems?
At least she could be confident that she was finally growing up. Life on the road had a way of wearing away at a person’s pretensions. Over the next few days and weeks she would figure out the best thing to do. After all, there was more than Hal to worry about. There were the men with the guns.
She stepped into the center of the ring and urged Casper to walk. As she monitored the horse’s gait to make sure he wasn’t favoring his healing leg, she wondered if it was too late to call the police. Would they believe her? She shook her head. No doubt they would think she was trying to excuse her behavior so she wouldn’t look like such a flake for running off.
But the men were real, and their guns had been more than water pistols. Why would someone want to kill her?
The fear returned, and with it a coldness that made Randi’s limbs go numb. She shook her head to force the thoughts away. No one was going to find her on the ranch. She didn’t have to make a decision today. She didn’t even have to think about what had happened. All she had to do was finish her chores.
The steady sound of hooves caught her attention. She glanced up and saw Brady riding back to the barn. His cowboy hat hid his face from view, but her memory supplied a picture of his handsome features. He moved with the confidence of a man who has spent a large portion of his life in the saddle.
He was about as different from Hal as denim was from silk. After being gone for nearly two months, Randi couldn’t figure out why on earth she’d allowed herself to be railroaded into the engagement or the wedding. Ten minutes before the ceremony she hadn’t been sure she’d liked Hal, let alone loved him. Now she knew she’d been right to worry. Her only lingering feeling about him was relief that she’d gotten away in time. The thought of marriage made her shudder. She couldn’t think about kissing him without grimacing. Thank goodness they’d never made love.
Brady rode closer. Maybe it was her imagination, but the sun seemed to shine a little brighter on him. She hadn’t needed Tex to tell her Brady was a great guy. But if he were so wonderful, why wasn’t he married? Was there a hideous flaw she hadn’t discovered, or some dark secret from his past? And why was it suddenly so important for her to know?
Chapter Four
“Chow’s on,” Randi called as she set down the cat food dishes. Unlike Tex, she could only carry two bowls at a time, and she had to hurry back into the kitchen for another set. In a matter of minutes, all the cats were eating. Princess had started her dinner, as well.
Randi settled on the porch steps and breathed a sigh of contentment. It was late afternoon, and a rainstorm had blown through earlier, dropping the temperature to the low seventies. The ground was damp and the horses would be muddy, but it was a small price to pay for relief from the heat.
Princess finished eating and came over to get her nightly attention. They were all settling into a routine. Even though feeding the cats wasn’t one of her responsibilities, Randi had taken over the chore from Tex. When the older man had protested, she’d explained that she liked spending time with the animals. She was starting to learn the different personalities of the cats and even to name them, although Tex had warned her not to let Brady know she was making pets of them. The rancher tolerated the cats, but he didn’t actually like them.
She rubbed Princess’s ears and smiled. “Brady talks tough,” she said aloud to the dog, “but I think he’s faking it. He likes you and your herd of kitties, doesn’t he?” Princess thumped her tail against the wooden porch.
The pregnant tabby finished her meal and jumped up onto the porch. She settled next to Princess and began licking her front right paw. When it was clean, she began the intricate process of grooming her face.
“How are you feeling, Pokey?” Randi asked. “If that belly of yours gets much lower, it’s going to drag against the dirt.”
Pokey ignored her criticism and concentrated on the task at hand. The cat worked in a rhythmic, circular motion, licking her paw, then swiping it across the side of her face, then licking the paw again. First she cleaned her muzzle, then her cheeks, the area around her eyes, her forehead and finally behind her ears.
Randi watched, amazed at the patience and thoroughness involved. “See that,” she said, pointing to the cat. “If you learned to do that, Princess, you wouldn’t have to get a bath every couple of weeks. You’re a great dog, but I have to tell you, you smell.”
Princess grinned her doggy grin, obviously unconcerned about her odor problem. Peter, the eleven-week-old black kitten, climbed up the stairs and into Randi’s lap. Once there, he purred loudly and stared at her with his big yellow eyes. When she didn’t move to pet him right away, he butted her stomach with his head.
“Impatient little devil, aren’t you,” she said, scratching him behind his ears. The purring rose in volume as tiny paws kneaded her belly and incredibly sharp claws poked through denim.
She endured the slight pain. In a few minutes Peter would sink down onto her lap and doze off. In this time before dinner, she liked to enjoy the quiet of just her and the animals. Maybe it was because she’d never had a pet as a child. Her mother wouldn’t have allowed one in the house. After all,
