The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
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“Sorry. You know what I mean. Come on,” he prodded gently. “Sit. Let’s eat.”
She took a seat at the kitchen table and opened the bag. Head bent, she removed the wrapped sandwiches, bags of chips, plastic cutlery and napkins. Crossing to the refrigerator, he snagged a couple of cans of cola for them.
“There.” He dropped into his chair, wishing he could figure out a way to stop feeling a weird sort of kinship with her. “We’re all set.”
Though messy, the barbecue tasted delicious. They ate in companionable silence, which made him feel a bit restless.
Since he finished before her, he sat quietly and watched her while she ate. Instead of picking up the sandwich and taking bites, she attacked her food, using her plastic fork and knife with gusto. Only when she’d cut several small pieces did she eat a few. After that, she ate a couple of chips and took a sip of cola. And then she started the process all over again, focused and intent. As if by regulating this, she regained some measure of control over her world, however small.
Again the twinge of sympathy. He’d caught himself doing similar things when he’d been in prison.
Finally she finished, and looked up. “That was wonderful,” she sighed. “Thanks again.”
He nodded, turning away so she wouldn’t see desire or warmth or whatever the hell it was he was feeling on his face. “No problem.” He gathered up the wrappings and chip bags and carried them to the trash. Once he had his expression and his body under control, he turned to face her. “Now tell me exactly what you saw on the news earlier.”
Just like that, her expression changed, making him realize she’d relaxed and he’d unthinkingly ruined it. With the tension back in her posture, even her features seemed sharper.
“Basically, what I said. It was the opening story for the noon newscast. Prominent and respected politician Alex Ramirez has now been contacted by the kidnappers who abducted his girlfriend. According to Alex, they’re demanding a ransom of several million dollars.”
He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. The feds are going to be all over this now. Why would he do that?”
“I’m sure his inside people are helping him.” The bitterness in her voice matched her flat expression. “He probably plans to pay himself and use this as a way to launder money or something. He’s always talking about having to find creative ways to do that without anyone catching on.”
Astounded, Reed swallowed. “You know a lot about his business, don’t you?”
Her chin went up. “Yes. Even if I didn’t know about the murder, I know enough to put him away for a long, long time.”
“So it’s not just that you witnessed him kill Tim that makes you valuable to him. It’s all the other information you could use against him.”
“Exactly.” She looked down at her hands, which she’d begun wringing.
“But now that everyone knows about you, if he got you back, he could no longer keep you locked away.”
“No.” She never looked up. “Which is why he won’t stop until I’m dead.”
The bleak despair in her voice made him ache to comfort her. “You don’t need to worry about that. He isn’t going to find you. Plus, he’s going to dig his own grave with these lies,” he said. “Sooner or later, someone’s going to catch on and his honesty will be called into question.”
“Since he has a lot of law enforcement people on his payroll, I doubt it.”
Reed considered his next words carefully. “I’m guessing he’s doing this to keep the case fresh in the public’s eye. The more people hear about you, the more likely someone will spot you and report to the FBI.”
“And then to him.” She grimaced. “Anything’s possible, where Alex is concerned. It even makes a kind of twisted sense, though I don’t like it.”
“Of course not.” Again he had to fight the urge to touch her. “Me, either. That settles one thing, though. Until I have a handle on who we can and cannot trust, you’re definitely going to have to keep a low profile. Even though we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Thank you again for helping me.”
He waved her thanks away. “Do you still want to go riding?”
“Yes.”
“Great.” Considering her shapeless dress, he carefully avoided meeting her gaze. “Why don’t you put on some jeans and meet me at the barn? I’ll get the horses saddled and ready.”
Without waiting for her to answer, he grabbed his cowboy hat and headed outside.
* * *
Watching out the window as Reed sauntered down to the barn, Kaitlyn tried to get a handle on the complicated emotions roiling inside her. She’d known she’d have some lingering trauma after what she’d been through with Alex, but she hadn’t expected to cringe every time he moved too fast. Luckily, so far she’d managed to keep all her flinching inside. As far as she could tell, Reed had no idea.
Which was good. The last thing she wanted from him was pity.
Despite the abuse she’d suffered, being around Reed again, even after all these years, made her want things she’d never thought she’d be able to want again. In fact, after the way she’d been treated, she’d come to believe she’d never feel attracted toward a man again.
She’d been wrong. Very wrong. Disgusted with herself, she ran her fingers through her ugly haircut and grimaced. All along in the back of her mind, she’d known her old crush on him might make her uncomfortable, but she’d thought she could deal with it. Right. What she hadn’t expected was this full-blown craving. Though she thought she’d been successful at hiding it, she trembled with the urge to get close to him every time they were in the same room.
She had to get past this. Her life was at stake after all. Since Reed had made it perfectly clear he didn’t feel the same way about her—how could he—she’d rely on him to keep her safe and help bring Alex to justice. Nothing more.
In fact, she wanted this over and done with so that she could move on to the next chapter of her life. So they both could.
Restless and unsettled inside her own body, she pushed through the kitchen door and headed down toward the barn. Dusk had settled on the landscape, though darkness had yet to envelope the farm. Nevertheless, a bright spotlight on the outside of the barn illuminated not only the yard, but the corrals. Reed stood inside a round pen, lifting a Western saddle up onto a beautiful gray horse.
A few feet away, she stopped. Her mouth went dry as she stood and watched, admiring the way the muscles in his arms worked while he hefted the bags. Again the desire, the raw urge, stunning her, shocking her. Once more, she managed to push it away.
He turned and faced her, dipping his chin in acknowledgment. “I got this gelding ready for you. He’s docile and well trained. You shouldn’t have any trouble with him.”
“Thank you.” Making her feet propel