Rancher at Risk by Barbara White Daille Page B

you?”
    “Oh, yes, I will,” she confirmed, trying to push away a sudden rush of guilt. She and Kayla texted several times a day, but she hadn’t gone to visit her since…since Caleb had made Ryan her boss. She wasn’t sure if she could keep her feelings out of her voice well enough to prevent Kayla from noticing.
    “It’s a lot different here than up in Chicago, isn’t it? I’ve never been that far north before. And tell you the truth, I’m just as glad to live where it stays warm for a good part of the year.” He pushed himself to a standing position, one foot on the ground, the other, the boot with the raised heel, still propped up on the rung of his stool.
    He smacked that leg with the soft cloth in his hand. “This one’s giving me trouble right now. Can’t even stand up like a proper gentleman. No way to treat a lady.”
    “You’re always a perfect gentleman with me.”
    Smiling, he tipped his cowboy hat to her and then started toward the barn.
    Sometimes when they talked, he would mention his leg. Sometimes he wouldn’t. That was his choice, just as choosing how much to say about her abilities was her decision.
    Out by the school, when Ryan had asked whether or not she could hear a person’s voice, she had chosen to answer. In fact, she’d responded to all of his questions, even the ones that had thrown her off-balance—which meant most of them. He had the knack of asking things no one else had ever thought to, or of asking them in a different way than anyone had before.
    He had the knack of making her think things she shouldn’t.
    Right now, as she looked up and saw him crossing the yard toward her, he made her think she should have followed Tony into the barn.
    Since that really would look like running, she stood her ground.
    “Thought you were coming back to the office.”
    “I thought we were done.”
    He stopped in front of her, light from the lowering sun on his face but his Stetson putting his eyes in shadow. She could read his lips but missed the stormy-green of his eyes.
    “Yeah, we were done.” Considering the set of his jaw, he had spoken grimly. “Lianne…about what happened—”
    “Nothing happened,” she said quickly, “except that we both learned something new. I learned to keep a pencil out of my hand when I’m conducting an interview.”
    His line. His turn now.
    I learned to keep my hands off you.
    But his lips didn’t move.
    * * *
    A FTER A MORNING spent with half his small crew in the far northern acres, Ryan headed back to the main house, letting the stallion take him home. He took a swig from the water bottle he’d learned to carry at all times to combat the dryness of the Southwest. No breeze moved the cotton-ball clouds. No air moved at all except for a shimmery haze generated by the heat of the sun.
    It was only early May. What would things be like here in the dog days of summer?
    A horse and rider came into view from the west, riding hard.
    He swallowed against a sudden rush from the past….
    Standing on the north ridge, where cell phone reception didn’t exist, spotting the horse and rider that would bring him the message no one ever wanted to hear. Making his own breakneck rush to the ranch and the pickup truck and the road into town. And finally, reaching the claustrophobic waiting room where a sad-eyed surgeon fought exhaustion and watched him fight back tears.
    He blinked, sharpening his gaze.
    This rider wasn’t headed his way. Judging by the angle, they would cross paths close to the ranch house. One of the hands, most likely, though he couldn’t tell from this far away. He’d given both crews his location today. They’d know where to find him in an emergency. But the rider hadn’t come from that direction.
    He kept the stallion at a steady canter.
    The other horse gained ground. Now he could see the rider more clearly, a slim figure with flowing hair.
    Lianne.
    A few days ago she had shied away from his touch like a frightened filly. He hadn’t