had—at least—emphasized those points again, in case she’d forgotten past discussions, and he’d told her that she could eat with the men or prepare her own meals in the house, whichever she preferred. His final advice had been to “relax and enjoy yourself, honey.”
Carly turned to scan the peaceful green fields that stretched for miles in every direction, then the foothills to the west and finally the mountainous horizon. One would have to look long and hard for a more perfect place in which to relax, but something told her that she would have found relaxation much easier to attain if Banyon had been twenty years older, bald and bowlegged.
She lowered her eyebrows, frowning over her own narrowed eyes as she contemplated her unexpected and extremely unwelcome physical reactions to Jake Banyon. She was positive she would be as irate over an attraction to any man at this stage of her life. She needed more time to heal, for God’s sake. The emotional wounds from her frightening farce of a marriage were barely scarred over, and in all honesty the mere thought of romance made her shudder. Romance was merely an illusion, anyhow, she now believed, a short-term ploy that men used to get women right where they wanted them. Once that was accomplished and men started showing their true colors, their women had better watch out.
Heaving a sigh, Carly pushed those dreadful thoughts from her mind and looked at Banyon and the pilot moving her luggage a safe distance from the helicopter. She decided then and there that however magnetic she found Banyon to be, he was never going to know about it, primarily because she was not going to let a meaningless physical attraction override her common sense. She wasn’t ready for anything but the most distant of friendships with any member of the opposite sex, and until she was ready, this and any other relationship with a man would be chilly indeed.
The two men shook hands, the pilot called a goodbye to her and returned to the cabin of his aircraft. Carly moved away from the copter and stood near her suitcases.
Jake walked up. “Your things will be fine here for a few minutes. Let’s go up to the house now.”
“All right.” She spoke without really looking at him, and she began walking when he did. The helicopter took off, and the turbulence caused by the rotors tossed her hair around. Smoothing it down, she chanced a quick glance at Banyon. “I hope this visit is not too much of an intrusion,” she said coolly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Sounds like you are,” she said bluntly.
“I’m what?”
“Worried. Well, don’t be. I promise to stay out of your hair.”
Can you? Are you capable of entertaining yourself and staying out of everyone’s way? Jake doubted it. The ranch was not going to be the same during Carly’s visit, and there was no pretending otherwise.
But that was something he’d known before her arrival. What he hadn’t anticipated or foreseen was the heart-pounding, throat-drying, gut-wrenching awareness in his own system caused by this woman. Not that he would do anything about it even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, for his own peace of mind. But she was Stuart’s daughter, for crying out loud. And even if he were the most dedicated of womanizers—as he’d once been—he would not touch his employer’s daughter. It was more than that, though; he respected Stuart far too much to risk offending him by making a pass at his daughter.
All of those surprising feelings and thoughts aside, however, Jake felt an obligation to make Stuart’s daughter feel welcome. “You’re not an intrusion, and I’m not worried about anything. In fact, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay.”
She didn’t believe a word of it. Tone of voice was so much more telling than words, and he really sounded as though he’d just eaten some sour grapes. The truth came to her in a flash. Banyon had agreed to her visiting the ranch because her father had put it to him in a way he hadn’t been able to gracefully refuse.
Carly was thinking of the bond between her dad and Jake Banyon when he asked, “How was your trip?”
In Carly’s opinion that was one of those questions people asked when they didn’t know what else to say. But it indicated that he was trying to make the best of things, and could she do any less?
“Long,” she said a bit dryly, then remembered that it hadn’t all been boring. “The helicopter ride was enjoyable, and let me ask you about something I saw from the air when we were approaching the ranch. Two men on horseback were chasing a third horse. Or they appeared to be chasing it. Do you know what was going on?”
Jake abruptly stopped walking to stare at her. “Was the third horse black?”
What a peculiar reaction to a simple question, Carly thought. She certainly had gotten his full attention with it. Standing her ground, she stared back, though he really didn’t seem to notice. Apparently he was still intent on the third horse, which seemed odd to Carly.
Still, he was obviously anxious about her reply, so she didn’t keep him waiting. “The third horse was black as pitch, and probably one of the most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen,” she recited, wondering if that was the information he was seeking.
“That damned devil stallion!” Jake’s eyes bore an angry light. “He’s getting bolder. I sure hope those men you saw captured him.”
“What?” Carly’s confusion showed on her face. “Did he escape…or something?”
“Escape! He doesn’t belong to this ranch. He doesn’t belong to anybody, as far as I can tell. He’s wild as a March wind, and he’s stealing our mares.”
Carly frowned. “I don’t get it. I mean, are wild horses common around here?”
“They used to be,” Jake said grimly. “The story is that about a hundred years ago a cavalry unit turned a bunch of horses loose in this part of Wyoming. The herd multiplied for a while, then began dying out. I haven’t heard of anyone spotting any of those mustangs in years. Then, out of the blue, that black stallion showed up and started gathering himself a harem of our best mares.”
Jake started walking again, and Carly hurried to keep stride. “I still don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve read about wild horses and seen pictures of them, and that stallion doesn’t look at all like the mustangs in those photos.”
“I know he doesn’t. He looks like he comes from good stock, but I’ve tried everything I know to locate his owner, with no luck. The only conclusion I’ve been able to come up with is that a mustang mated with a mare of good lineage and the result was that stallion.”
“I guess that theory makes sense,” Carly murmured, intrigued by the “mystery” stallion and where he’d come from. “And he’s been collecting a harem, as you put it?”
“He’s already managed to lure away five of our mares.”
“Is he luring mares from other ranches, as well?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
He’d spoken so curtly, so brusquely, that Carly sent him a quick, curious glance. Banyon struck her as one of those people who would rather stew silently than talk about a problem. And while he’d already had the wild stallion problem to deal with before today, her arrival had obviously given him another one. She sensed that he would rather not talk about the stallion, but she really didn’t care what he preferred. Her curiosity had been piqued and she wanted to know everything he did.
