JUSTIFIED DECEPTION Page 14

  "No really, that's it. More salad?" Without waiting for a reply, Ruth scooped out another dollop of salad and plopped it on Matt's plate.

  Matt raised his eyes from his plate and looked at her steadily, and said, "We can talk about it later." And Ruth knew that whatever it took, she would not go to Matt's room tonight. But she'd worry about the ramifications of that tomorrow.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Matt called to Tanner from atop his horse. "You ready with that iron?"

  Tanner nodded.

  "Okay, Seth. Send out the last one," Matt yelled.

  Seth split off a young maverick from the others, and it bolted into the corral and scrambled for freedom. Matt kicked his horse and followed in close pursuit, leaning heavily as his horse cut sharply while tracking the animal. Hurling his rope, he dropped a wide loop around the maverick's neck, cinched the rope to the saddle horn, and in a flash was off his horse and wrestling the animal to the ground, binding his legs. Moments later, the acrid smell of burning flesh filled Matt's nostrils. The animal let out a blood-wrenching bawl, but before he could struggle, he was free. And Matt was done for the day. Done with branding, that is. He hadn't even begun with Ruth. Roping, wrestling and branding mavericks was the easy part of his day.

  Trying to make sense out of Ruth's erratic behavior was a whole different matter.

  For the better part of last night he lay in bed, waiting for her to come, until sometime between three and five in the morning, he'd finally drifted to sleep, only to be awakened from an erotic dream in which Ruth was standing before him, naked and laughing and beckoning to him, but always just out of reach. He'd crawl on top of her, ready to sink himself into her, and she'd suddenly be above him, straddling him, laughing and making lewd gestures. The dream ended when he awakened to his own heavy breathing, and an embarrassing mess.

  His first reaction when she wasn't at breakfast was to track her down and give her hell for playing havoc with his libido. She'd agreed to come to him and there was no question what she had in mind. But she didn't come, and she'd been avoiding him all day, a clear indication that they were back to square one. Whatever that was.

  Along with helping you with Annie, you want me be on-call for sex whenever the notion moves you...

  Good Lord! He hadn't been listening when she'd said the words, but he sure as hell was hearing them now. No wonder she'd been avoiding him. He'd been acting like a rutting bull ready to jump her whenever she was near. He should know enough about women by now to realize they needed to be courted, at least decent women like Ruth did. He'd never bothered to get to know her—her hopes, her dreams, her goals, her likes and dislikes, getting her to talk about the daughter she'd lost, and about the father of her child. So far, it had been all about getting her into bed. Which went against his rules about live-in female help. His policy had been firm. Nannies and housekeepers were off limits. It hadn't been a difficult policy to follow. Until now.

  But Ruth was different. She was fragile, like a flower. Well, maybe fragile wasn't exactly how he'd describe Ruth. But she was sensitive. And he'd been an insensitive, single-minded bastard. She'd lost a daughter. Lord only knows how it would be to lose Annie. The idea was too disturbing to imagine. But Ruth was toughing it out. Chin up. Shoulders back. A wall of armor shielding her heart. And other than a few half-assed attempts, he hadn't tried to get her to talk about her daughter. The fact was, he'd been too preoccupied with himself and his sexual needs to think of anything else. Ruth did that to him. But it would be different now. He'd slow things down, buy her something special, something expensive and engraved, with insets of turquoise...

  ...most mistresses at least get a fancy car...

  Well, maybe he"d buy her something expensive later, when it was established that she was not his mistress or his live-in girlfriend, but was instead, the woman who was quickly becoming the most important person in his life, next to Annie. He'd start with flowers and romantic cards and go from there. For the time being, though, he'd keep his distance. No grabbing her and pulling her into his arms, no heated kisses, no... damn... nothing.

  Meanwhile, he had another restless night ahead of him. He hadn't seen Ruth all day. She and Annie had been on another horseback outing with packed meals, no doubt so she wouldn't have to face him at dinner tonight. Even last night, she'd slipped off to her bedroom during his nightly shenanigans with Annie with barely a word for either of them. But that was all about to change.

  ***

  Ruth looked out of her bedroom window to see a van from Cedar Grove Florist pulling up out front. A man wearing white overalls hopped down and headed up the walkway, a long narrow box in the crook of his arm. It seemed improbable that flowers would be delivered to the Kincaid Ranch. More likely, the driver made a wrong turn. A few minutes later, however, she was surprised when Edith came to her room, the box cradled in her arms.

  "Seems these are for you," Edith said.

  Ruth eyed the box. "I can't imagine who'd be sending me flowers." It definitely wasn't Matt's style. Nor could he have sent them since he and the men were off mending fences and wouldn"t be back for four more days, a welcome relief just to know he was gone and wouldn't be asking any more questions about Beth. Why she'd mentioned Beth to Annie, she couldn't explain, even to herself. It just slipped out. And now she knew Matt wouldn't let it go until she answered his questions. He was beginning to suspect something and it was up to her to either verify that Annie was Beth, or continue playing cat and mouse while searching for the truth...

  "Well, go ahead, look inside and see who it is," Edith urged.

  Ruth opened the box and found a dozen long-stemmed red roses wrapped in green florist tissue. A tiny envelope was tucked in among the stems. She slipped the card from the envelope and read, "For a special woman."

  Edith chuckled. "Looks like you've got yourself a secret admirer. Can't imagine which of the boys has a romantic streak though. It's not Seth or Tanner. Seth's been with Sue Anne for the better part of two years, and Tanner's had the same girlfriend since high school. It's not likely to be JT either, because he has his eye on a little waitress over at Glady's Café. And I can't imagine Deke sending flowers to a women. Maybe the new boy, Randy. He seemed pretty taken in by how fast you learned to ride."

  Ruth knew that neither Randy nor Deke would send her flowers. Randy hadn't so much as looked at her since the riding lessons, and Deke viewed her as a greenhorn city slicker. Which left Matt. She touched a delicate blossom. Her heart started beating a staccato rhythm with the idea of Matt sending them...

  Edith took the box of flowers. "I'll put these in water and bring them back. You be sure and let me know who he turns out to be now." She walked away, chuckling.

  Ruth stared at the card. Matt hadn't questioned her at all about why she didn't come to his room two nights before, and it wasn't because he didn"t have a chance. Although she'd purposely avoided him, that wouldn't have stopped him. No, this time he'd left her alone, for whatever reason. And he"d made it clear at dinner the night before that he'd be riding herd with the men for the next four days. No attempt to kiss her goodbye, no winks or suggestive smiles. Not even so much as a little squeeze of her arm. She"d wondered if he'd finally lost interest. She'd certainly given him reason. Although his motives for pursuing her had been crystal clear, the thought that he'd finally given up the chase bothered her more than she cared to acknowledge.

  The next day, more flowers arrived. This time they were delivered by a grizzled cowboy on horseback, who said, "One of the boys from the Kincaid wanted these left for the lady workin'

  here." The bouquet came wrapped in a moistened bandana. The flowers were the same as those growing along the banks of the swimming hole. However, when Edith handed her the bouquet, what caught Ruth's attention was not the yellow monkey flowers or the scarlet columbine or the blue monks heads, but the profusion of tiny white flowers, the same little flowers Matt had tickled her with while he'd stretched alongside her that day at the swimming hole. She looke
d for a card but found none. But the message was clear. She blushed, and said, "They"re really pretty."

  Edith eyed the flowers. "Funny there's no note. I guess you're just suppose to know. You got any idea who it is?"

  Ruth stared at the white blossoms peeking out from among the flowers, almost feeling the tiny petals trailing across her breasts, a pair of dark eyes following the path of the flowers. Her body started tingling, and heat rushed up her face. She shook her head. “No, I have no idea who it is,” she lied, feeling her face grow hot.

  Edith laughed. "Whoever sent them oughta see your face. You're blushin' like a school girl."

  Ruth knew her cheeks must be scarlet. They felt as if on fire. She also knew she didn't want Edith to learn who the mystery lover was. She liked Edith but she knew that Edith couldn't keep from sharing that bit of information with her boys, who would pass it on to their girlfriends, and before long, all of Cedar Grove would know that the new nanny at the Kincaid was taking care of more than just Annie Kincaid. "I'm just flushed from the heat," she said.

  Edith eyed her dubiously. "Well, I'd better get these in water since they're already starting to wilt." She walked away, shaking her head and chuckling softly.

  On the third day, shortly after Ruth and Annie returned from a ride to the old Indian mound, Edith intercepted Ruth in the living room, another long box from the florist cradled in her arms.

  "These just arrived," she said, excitedly.

  Ruth eyed the box, almost afraid to open it. There was no guessing what might be written on the card. She was certain now that the flowers came from Matt, and she wished Edith would leave before learning the truth. Instead, Edith stood looking at the box, and said, "Well go ahead.

  Let's see what lover boy wrote this time."

  With a shaking hand, Ruth lifted the lid and peered down at the single yellow rose. The card read, "From a lonely cowboy."

  Edith giggled. "He must really be lonely paying to have one rose sent twenty miles. He must also have a whole lot of money—" she stopped short. And Ruth knew at once that Edith had figured out who the mystery suitor was. She verified it by saying, "Well, who'd have figured Mr.

  Kincaid being the romantic type. Just goes to show you, you never know a man till he starts courting a woman."

  "It does seem... unlike him," Ruth agreed. The thought of Matt with a romantic streak seemed sweetly endearing, a side of him she'd never have guessed.

  So, when Matt returned the afternoon of the fifth day and said to Ruth, "Please come to the shooting range with Annie and me tomorrow," the fact that he'd said please was the clincher.

  Before the flowers started arriving he would have said something more like, "We'll be heading out to the shooting range tomorrow. Be ready to leave at...."

  With him peering down at her with such expectation in his eyes, like a little boy pleading for a puppy, Ruth simply nodded, and said, "I'd like that."

  A slow smile touched his lips, and a new light came into his eyes, reminding her that he was not a little boy pleading for a puppy. He was a man with a man's needs. And what he wanted was definitely not a puppy. Only the thought of Annie being along gave her the resolve to keep her word this time. Still, she felt uneasy.

  ***

  Matt tucked the box into his saddle bag and mounted his horse, then pressed him into a gallop so he could catch up with Ruth and Annie, who'd started on ahead of him. When he slowed to a walk alongside Ruth, Annie, who was ahead of them, looked back, and said, "Can I ride Skeeter in the stream?"

  Matt nodded. "Just don't get out of my sight." Annie trotted her horse over to the stream, a short distance away. Matt slanted a glance at Ruth. She carried her shoulders squared and her head high. In fact, she sat straighter and taller than any greenhorn he'd ever had on the ranch, seeming totally at ease with her newfound skill, which pleased him. He only wished he'd been the one to teach her to ride. He had no idea why that seemed important now, but it did.

  She caught him looking at her, and smiled. "Thank you for the flowers," she said.

  He winked and smiled back. "I didn't want you to forget me while I was gone."

  "I didn't. But it doesn't change anything about us... being together."

  "It wasn't meant to. I've been acting like my prize bull and I want to start over and treat you the way I should have from the start."

  "Why?" She had a way of hitting him right between the eyes with her direct questions, forcing him to lay it all out for her. So that's what he'd do. If this relationship was to ever get anywhere, honesty would have to be a part of it.

  "I want to make up for the way I've been coming on to you. Can you accept that for now?"

  Ruth shrugged. "I suppose. So, how do we start over?"

  "We start by getting to know each other, so if you have any more questions about me, just ask. My life's an open book."

  Ruth seemed to ponder that for an inordinate amount of time, until finally, she said, "You claimed you were the black sheep in the family and that you didn't get along with your father and brothers. Tell me about them, and your mother. You never talk about any of them except Brad."

  Matt shrugged. "I doubt they mention me either. I see them on Christmas and at a few family gatherings. My father, the judge, and I butt horns within five minutes of being in the same room. He's pissed that I didn't follow the plan he laid out for me. But my three older brothers did.

  Brad's the attorney he was expected to be, Tim's the state attorney general, and Calvin"s a state senator. My father"s real proud of them. So proud, there are a whole lot of people who don't realize he has a fourth son."

  "You sound bitter."

  "Actually, I'm not. The best thing I ever did was to walk away from it all when I was still young enough to be my own man. For the most part, I've never regretted it."

  "For the most part? Then there have been some regrets?" Ruth asked.

  "Yeah, like marrying the wrong woman."

  "But if you hadn't married her, you wouldn't have Annie," Ruth said.

  The look on her face was like an indictment, making him bear the full weight of a burden he'd carried for six years. "Annie's the only good that came of the marriage and there's no way in hell I'll let that bitch—excuse the language—back into Annie's life. I suppose I should have had Brad handle the divorce as well."

  "As well as what?" Ruth asked.

  "He... umm... didn't handle the adoption," Matt replied.

  "And there's a problem?" Ruth asked.

  The question caught Matt up short. Annie's adoption was not a subject he intended to discuss with Ruth or anyone else. "No," he said. "There's no problem. I've been so long doing things on my own I forget I have a brother who's one of the best attorneys in the country. And you?" he asked, anxious to shift the conversation to safer ground. "Did you follow the plan? Was being a nanny what your parents laid out for you?"

  "Well no, not exactly. I just sort of... fell into it," Ruth replied.

  "How?"

  "How what?"

  "How did you just sort of fall into being a nanny?"

  "Oh... one thing led to another and—" Ruth shrugged "—here I am. And speaking of being a nanny, I'd better go see how Annie's doing." She trotted her horse over to the stream's edge.

  Matt watched her solemnly. She had a way of cutting him off whenever he turned the focus on her, and it was becoming apparent that she was avoiding answering questions about herself, and he wondered why. He watched the graceful sway of her body with the motion of the horse, and tried to keep his mind off how good she'd feel in his arms, face flushed with passion, lips wet and shimmering, tendrils of damp hair curling around her face. He'd stroke her body, touching her everywhere. And she'd moan those soft little moans that would drive him to distraction. How long would she hold out? A month? A week?

  He held onto that last thought until they arrived at the shooting range, where he planned to give her his gift. But to do that he'd need a few minutes alone with her. "Annie," he called out.
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br />   "Take Skeeter over to the meadow so he can get his fill of meadow grass. I'll be working with Ruth first and I'll call you when it's your turn to shoot."

  Annie kicked Skeeter, and the horse cantered toward a lush meadow dotted with mountain flowers. Matt said to Ruth, "Tether Dynamite to a tree and let's get started."

  Swinging her leg over the horse's rear, Ruth slipped to the ground and said, "About learning to shoot, you really don't need to teach me."

  "It's something you need to know out here," Matt said, deciding he wouldn't give her the option of not learning. "Lots of women are intimidated by guns, and the only way you can get used to them is to start shooting. You might even like it."

  “It"s not a matter of liking or not liking, it"s just that—”

  “Sweetheart, you will learn to shoot," Matt said, so let"s get on with it.” Ruth pursed her lips and said nothing.

  Matt reached into his saddle bag and took out the box, which he'd wrapped in plain brown paper. "I sent Annie off because I wanted to be alone with you when I gave you this. It's a little something to let you know how much I care."

  Ruth took the box, and when she felt the weight of it, she let out a little snicker, and said,

  "Obviously it isn't a diamond necklace." She tipped it back and forth. "It feels like a book. A smaller version of King Arthur. You want me to play Isolde to your Sir Tristan."

  Matt laughed. "Sorry, no. But go ahead. Open it."

  Ruth ripped off the paper, and frowned. "A gun?"

  "It's a Ruger Bearcat," Matt said, lifting the gun from the box. "The design's based on the older Remington single actions of the 1800's, and if you look here--" he angled the gun so she could look at the cylinder "--you'll see an engraving of a bear. It's Ruger's smallest and lightest sixgun, and it has little or no recoil when fired."

  Ruth stared at the gun and said nothing.

  "Honey, what's wrong?"

  Ruth shrugged. "I didn't expect... I mean... I thought it would be something—"