Page 12 of River Legacy
“That is the best I’ve slept in I can’t remember when,” she was saying, sounding surprised. “It’s so... quiet here.”
“It can give you the willies if you’re used to traffic and noise other than nature.” He wished he couldn’t smell the scent of the girly shampoo in her still-damp hair. Her face, free of makeup, seemed to glow this morning, making him aware of how pretty she was without makeup and how different she looked from yesterday. She seemed like a completely different young woman.
“You’re sure your sister won’t mind me borrowing some of her clothing?”
“Not at all. You look great in them,” he said and wished he hadn’t as his brother joined them and quickly agreed that she looked great.
“So this work we’re going to be doing. What is it?” she asked, looking almost excited at the prospect.
If Ryder had taken the time to imagine how this was going to go, he would have thought she would just want to hang out. He’d never imagined that she would want to help. He and his brother exchanged a look. Ryder figured she would be more of a hindrance than a help and hated that his brother was enjoying this so much.
“We have some stalls that need to be shoveled out,” Brand said. “You don’t have anything against manure, do you? We also have some barbed wire to string on a fence, but it’s out in a far pasture,” Brand said. “You don’t ride, do you?”
“It’s not that hard to ride a horse, right?” she asked, looking from one to the other of them.
“Ryder’s a great teacher,” Brand said as the cook brought out her breakfast. “And there’s the mare that’s about due,” his brother said, clearly trying hard not to laugh. “Might have to pull the foal. Vicky could help with that.”
As she dove into her breakfast, Ryder shot his brother a warning look. He could see how this weekend was going to go—unless he could quickly convince Victoria that ranch life wasn’t for her and send her packing.
Claude felt like crap. He hadn’t slept well last night. About three in the morning, he’d decided he would quit his job, to hell with the contract he’d signed. By five, he’d changed his mind. Wen had him over a barrel. He had no choice but to go after the man’s overindulged princess. But winning her?
He’d rather swallow rat poison. He despised Victoria Forester, he thought, remembering the drink she’d thrown in his face. And that slap! Some men liked a fiery woman: not him. He wanted an obedient wife and couldn’t imagine how any man could rein in Victoria.
This morning, he’d looked online for a town called Powder Crossing, Montana, wondering how he was supposed to find this ranch where Victoria had presumably gone with the cowboy. Wen apparently didn’t seem to mind sending him on awild-goose chase. For all they knew, she hadn’t gone with Ryder Stafford.
He’d thought about calling to see if she was even there. She and the cowboy could have parted company outside the bar last night. She could have used Ryder’s phone to text Wen to say she was spending the weekend on Stafford Ranch with the cowboy. She could still be in Billings, planning to take the private jet home. That sounded more like the woman he knew.
He still had her purse with her phone inside. He’d picked it up after she and Ryder had left the bar. He’d been planning to give it to her at dinner. When she hadn’t shown up, he’d thought she would come looking for it. He liked the idea of her having to come to him to get it. But so far she hadn’t appeared. That wasn’t like her. She couldn’t bear not having her phone.
How could she have stayed in Billings last night without her purse and money and credit cards, let alone her phone? She couldn’t. Maybe she really had gone with the cowboy.
He retrieved her handbag now from where he’d tossed it in his hotel room bureau. He figured she’d want it when he found her. He called her room, just in case she’d sneaked back to it last night. No answer.
Maybe Wen was right. If she had gone to the ranch, she might already be more than happy to leave by the time he showed up. If nothing else, she’d be excited to get her purse—that is if he gave it to her right away.
Maybe he would just hang on to it so her only option was letting him take her to Billings. He liked the idea of her being dependent on only him. It would be the first time he’d be in charge of her since he’d met her. He was starting to feel a whole lot better about this latest job his boss wanted him to do.
At ten to six, he was downstairs in the café, a cup of coffee in front of him waiting for Wen. One of the bodyguards, JJ Gibson, was at the counter eating his breakfast. Claude didn’t fraternize with the hired help, but he was aware that JJ wasn’t a fan of Wen either. Claude suspected that a lot of people who worked for his boss didn’t like him. The man had made enemies: Why else did he feel the need to have two bodyguards traveling with him all the time recently? Was Wen worried that someone would try to kill him?
That thought made Claude feel even better as Wendell Forester swept into the café, the second bodyguard, Brice Schultz, right behind him. Brice dropped back to sit at the counter next to JJ while their boss made his way to Claude’s table.
“Given any more thought to my offer?” Wen asked as he sat down. His boss had said, “Sleep on it.” Like Claude was expected to get sleep after being humiliated. And hisoffer? His ultimatum? To make matters worse, Claude suspected that Ryder Stafford would have told Wen to shove it where the sun didn’t shine rather than be bullied by this man.
“I’m going to the Stafford Ranch to see Victoria,if she is indeed still there,” Claude said. “For all we know, she could have already left.”
“You think it’s a waste of your time,” Wen said without looking at him. Claude heard the reprimand in the older man’s tone. “You could call and ask for her, I suppose, but then she’d know you’re headed that way. She probably wouldn’t be surprised to see you, anyway. Your decision.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m sending you the ranch number.”
Wen turned then to the waitress who had appeared. “I’ll take the chicken fried steak, eggs over easy and a short stack on the side.” He glanced at Claude. “You already ate?”
He shook his head. “I’ll have the biscuits and gravy, eggs scrambled.” He heard his phone whoosh as Wen put his cell away. He didn’t have to look to know that his boss had sent him the phone number at Stafford Ranch. One phone call and he might not have to go, if Victoria wasn’t there. Or his call could make her leave so she didn’t have to see him again. He groaned inwardly at the thought.
Wen was waiting for him to make the call. The man thought he knew his daughter so well. Claude would love to prove him wrong, but was hesitant to make the call because he feared that Wen did know Victoria—probably because they were so much alike.
“Or you could just go to the ranch, pretending you weren’t looking for my daughter at all,” his boss said as if nothing had interrupted their conversation. “I’m sure you can come up with an excuse for being there other than Victoria, since Ryder Stafford knows I want the ranch and that you work for me.”
“And get myself shot?” Claude had heard about the others Wen had sent and how they’d been run off. He sipped his coffee, hoping the food came soon. He’d had all he could take of Wendell Forester. He would drive to the ranch and take his sweet time about it. Anything was better than hanging out here with this man since Wendell was his ride home. He couldn’t bear the thought of flying coach. That would be the ultimate humiliation after everything else he’d had to endure.
Anyway, he liked the idea of Victoria trapped in the middle of nowhere without money or a phone or even a credit card to pay for a ride out of there.
