I don’t give a rat’s ass about your thesis, or your theories about ranchers and wild horses, either. Do whatever it is you do, stay out of my way and try not to get yourself killed while you’re at it.”
She didn’t bat an eye. “Hale,” she announced brightly, as though he hadn’t spoken. “My name is Lucinda Hale, but everybody calls me Luce.”
He inhaled a long, deep breath. If he’d ever had that much trouble learning a woman’s name before, he didn’t recall the occasion. “Ms. Hale, then,” he began, tugging at the brim of his hat in a gesture that was more automatic than cordial. “I’ll leave you to it. While I’m sure your work is absolutely fascinating, not to mention vital to the future of the planet, I have plenty of my own to do. In short, while I’ve enjoyed shadowboxing with you, I’m fresh out of leisure time.”
He might’ve been talking to the barn wall. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said cheerfully. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering. I’ll be an observer, that’s all. Watching, figuring out how things work, making a few notes. You won’t even know I’m around.”
Drake bit back a terse reply and reined his horse away, although he didn’t use his heels. The dogs, still fascinated by the whole scenario, sat tight. “You’re right, Ms. Hale. I won’t know you’re around, because you won’t be. Not around me, that is.”
“You really are a very difficult man,” she observed almost sadly. “Surely you can see the value of my project. Interactions between wild animals, domesticated ones and human beings?”
* * *
LUCE WAS COLD, wet, a little amused and very intrigued.
Drake Carson was gawking at her as though she’d just popped in from a neighboring dimension, wearing a tutu and waving a wand. His two beautiful dogs, waiting obediently for some word or gesture from their master, seemed equally curious.
The consternation on the man’s face was absolutely priceless.
And a very handsome face it was, at least what she could see of it, shadowed by the brim of his hat the way it was. If he resembled his younger brother, Mace, whom she’d met earlier that day, he was one very impressive man.
She decided to push him a bit, just to see what happened. “You run this ranch, don’t you?”
“I do my best.”
She liked his voice, which was a deep, slow drawl now, not mocking like before. “Then you’re the one I want.”
Open mouth, she thought, insert foot.
“For my project, I mean,” she added hastily.
His strong jawline tightened visibly. “I don’t have time to babysit you,” he said. “This is a working ranch, not a resort.”
“As I’ve said repeatedly, Mr. Carson, you won’t have to do any such thing. I can take care of myself, and I promise you, I won’t be underfoot.”
He seemed unconvinced. And still irritated in the extreme.
But he didn’t ride away.
Luce had already been warned that Drake wouldn’t take to her project, but somehow she hadn’t expected this much resistance. She was normally a persuasive person, and reasonable, too.
Of course, it helped if the other person was somewhat agreeable.
Mentally, she cataloged the things she’d learned about Drake Carson.
He was in charge of the ranch, which spanned thousands of acres and was home to lots of cattle and horses, as well as wildlife. The Carsons had very deep roots in Bliss County, Wyoming, going back several generations. He loved the outdoors, and he was good with animals, particularly horses.
He was, in fact, a true cowboy.
He was also on the quiet side, solitary by nature, slow to anger—but when he did get mad, he could be formidable. At thirty-two, Drake had never been married; he was college-educated, and once he’d gotten his degree—land management and animal husbandry—he’d come straight back to the ranch, having no desire to live anywhere else. He worked from sunrise to sunset and often longer.
Harry, the Carsons’ housekeeper, whose real name was Harriet Armstrong, had dished up some sort of heavenly pie when Luce had arrived at the main ranch house fairly early in the day. As soon as Harry understood who Luce was and why she was there, she’d proceeded to spill information about Drake at a steady clip.
Luce had encountered Mace Carson, Drake’s younger brother, very briefly, when he’d come in from the family vineyard expressly for a piece of pie. Harry had introduced them and explained Luce’s mission—i.e., to gather material for her dissertation and interview Drake in depth, thus getting the rancher’s perspective.
Mace had smiled slightly and shaken his head in response to Harry’s briefing. “I’m glad you’re here, Ms. Hale, but I’m afraid my brother isn’t going to be a whole lot of use as a research subject. He’s into his work and not much else, and he doesn’t like to be distracted from whatever he’s got scheduled for the day. Makes him testy.”
A quick glance in Harry’s direction had confirmed the sinking sensation Mace’s words produced. The older woman had given a small, reluctant nod of agreement.
Well, Luce thought now, standing face-to-horse with Drake, they’d certainly known what they were talking about, Mace and Harry both.
Drake was definitely testy.
He stared grimly into the rainy distance for a long moment, then muttered, “As if that damn stallion wasn’t enough to get under my hide like a nasty itch.”
“Cheer up,” Luce said. She loved a challenge. “I’m here to help.”
Drake gave her a long, level look. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” he asked very slowly, and without a hint of humor. He flung out his free hand, making his point, the reins resting easily in the other one. “My problems are over.”
“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” Luce asked.
He opened his mouth, closed it again, evidently reconsidering whatever he’d been about to say. Finally, with a hoarse note in his voice, he went on. “I planned to,” he said. “But if I did, you’d be out here alone.” He looked around. “Where’s your horse? You won’t be getting close to those critters again today. The stallion will see to that.”
Luce’s interest was genuine. “You sound as if you know him pretty well.”
“We understand each other, all right,” Drake said. “We should. We’ve been playing this game for a while now.”
That was going in her notes.
She shook her head in belated answer to his question about her means of transportation. “I don’t have a horse,” she explained. “I parked my car at your place and hiked out here.”
The day had been breathtakingly beautiful, before the clouds lowered and thickened and began dumping rain. She’d hiked in all the western states and in Europe, and this was some gorgeous country. The Grand Tetons were just that. Grand.
