The Rancher and the Runaway Bride. Сьюзен Мэллери

memory away. She didn’t want to think about her mother or Grand Springs. For the first time in a long time, life was good. She’d put in a hard day’s work, she could smell Tex’s delicious cooking, and Peter’s tiny, trusting kitten body warmed her.

      Footsteps coming around the bunkhouse broke the solitude. Princess turned toward the sound. Peter raised his head to watch the newcomer.

      Randi found herself leaning forward, her heart suddenly thudding louder in her chest. Anticipation surged through her. You’re being a fool, she told herself. It didn’t help.

      But the man rounding the corner of the bunkhouse wasn’t her boss. Instead, Ty stepped into view. Randi told herself she was silly. What did it matter if Brady sought out her company or not? But the logic didn’t ease the pinch of disappointment.

      The tall, dark-haired cowboy paused at the bottom of the steps and leaned against the railing.

      “‘Evening,” he said. With his hat pulled low, it was impossible to see his eyes. Not that it would have mattered if she could. She’d seen Ty enough in the dining room to know that he kept his expression unreadable, his feelings hidden.

      Technically he was better-looking than Brady. There was something about him that should have called to her. No doubt when he went to town, the ladies lined up for miles. Maybe it was the air of danger he wore like a familiar coat. Maybe it was the hint of sadness in his straight mouth. Whatever the appeal, while she could intellectually admit he was as handsome as any media heartthrob, he didn’t do it for her. Her life was messed up enough without dealing with a mysterious stranger.

      Brady, on the other hand, made her feel comfortable. With him around, she could relax enough to enjoy life. He was the kind of man who made women smile and feel special.

      “The last groom preferred working with larger four-legged critters,” Ty said, jerking his head toward the cat on her lap.

      “I like them in all sizes,” she said.

      “Me, too.” As if to confirm his words, Percival, one of the larger male cats, strolled over to Ty and rubbed against his calves. Ty bent down and picked up the cat, holding him in his arms and stroking him.

      Randi stared. “I can’t believe that. I tried to touch him a couple of days ago and he spit at me.”

      “This old cat and I understand each other.” Ty’s slow movements made Percival purr loudly.

      Interesting, Randi thought. Who was this man with his unreadable eyes and a way with cats? What was his story? She returned her attention to the kitten on her lap and reminded herself to mind her own business. Out here everyone had a story, even Brady. Everyone had secrets. If she wanted to keep hers, she’d better not snoop into anyone else’s.

      “We’re two of a kind,” Ty continued.

      She realized the cowboy was right. Princess might rule the cats, but Percival staked out his own territory and he defended it with teeth and claws. Ty was similar, maintaining a physical distance from the other men. He moved in a way that left no doubt he would fight for what was his. Controlled danger. Something she was trying to avoid in her life.

      “Evening, R-Rita.”

      She glanced up to see Ziggy and Quinn approaching. “Hi, guys. How was your day?”

      “Not bad.” Quinn nodded at Ty, then reached down and patted one of the cats. Randi noticed that he kept his left hand tucked in the front pocket of his jeans. She’d watched him at the table and had realized he could barely use his hand or arm. Yet his physical limitations didn’t seem to interfere with his ability to get his work done. Brady often mentioned how well Quinn performed. But how many employers would have given Quinn a chance to prove himself in the first place?

      “This one looks ready to pop,” Quinn said, reaching over to pet Pokey.

      “Don’t tell Brady,” Randi said quickly. “The last thing he wants to know about is more cats.”

      “He’s all talk.” Ziggy managed the short sentence without stuttering.

      “Maybe, but I’ve been thinking of trying to find homes for some of them.” Randi stroked the kitten on her lap. “They’re certainly well-trained animals.”

      Conversation continued as they waited for Tex to ring the dinner bell. Randi participated, but part of her attention focused elsewhere as she strained to hear another set of footsteps…those belonging to a man she had no business thinking about.

      When the bell rang, Princess barked twice and the cats stood up. They began their evening journey back to the barn, where they would settle for the night.

      Randi walked around to the front entrance to the dining room. When she crossed the threshold, she found Brady already inside. How long had he been there? Why hadn’t he joined the other men and come to see her and the cats?

      Don’t even think about that, she ordered herself as she took one of the empty chairs halfway down the table. Ziggy immediately sat next to her and she gave him an absentminded smile.

      Brady was just her boss. Just a guy who had hired her. He wasn’t special, and even if he was, he wasn’t for her. In a few weeks, when she’d figured out what she was going to do with her life, she was moving on. Until then, she would do a good job, collect her pay at the end of the week and stay out of trouble.

      Despite that excellent advice, as Tex brought out the food, Randi found her gaze straying again and again to the far end of the table.

      The men all showered after they finished their work, but none of their still-damp hair or fresh shaven faces affected her the way Brady’s did. She didn’t want to touch their skin or say something funny so they would smile at her.

      Consciously, she forced her attention away from Brady and onto the conversation at the table. As bowls of food were passed to her, she took a serving for herself. Once, when she forked two pork chops onto her plate, she caught Tex looking at her and she winked. The ex-marine grinned.

      Contentment stole over her, surprising her with a sense of warm belonging. She could fit in here. More important, she wanted to fit in.

      “I heard you found a couple of steers in a mud hole this afternoon, Ralph,” Brady said.

      The older cowboy nodded. “Got ’em out, boss.”

      “I know. I checked on them. You did a good job. Thanks for checking that dry pond. I’d forgotten all about it.”

      Ralph mumbled a reply.

      “Ziggy and Quinn, that fence is going up faster than I’d expected.”

      “Some of the main posts aren’t rotted, so we’re reusing them,” Quinn said.

      Brady’s style of management was very hands-on. About the second or third night, Randi had noticed he made it a point to find something to praise about each employee nearly every day. No wonder even the drifters stayed.

      “Rita.”

      She looked up when he said her assumed name. An unexpected attack of nerves made her fork slip out of her fingers and bang against her plate. She picked it up and cleared her throat. “Yes?”

      He continued to smile as if nothing was wrong. “I’d like to see you in my office after dinner.”

      “Um, sure.”

      “You rode Casper today?”

      “Yes. There’s no hint of the injury. You can put him back to work tomorrow.”

      “Great. You’ve been patient with him. I appreciate that.”

      “No problem.”

      She forced herself to cut off a piece of pork, but instead of eating it, she chased it around her plate. When Ziggy handed her the bowl of biscuits, she passed them on without taking one.

      He wanted to see her in his office. She knew what that meant. After only a week, she was out on