The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 2. Сьюзен Мэллери
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they reached the store, he released her neck and grabbed the door. As he pulled it open, he motioned for her to go first. Polite, charming, funny, sensitive, amazingly good-looking. Her original question still stood. Why wasn’t he married? Were all the women in the county blind, or was there something she couldn’t figure out? Some flaw he’d kept hidden, or maybe something from his past?
He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the center aisle. “Female clothing to your right. Creams and junk to your left. Shoes are upstairs. I have a meeting with my banker, so I’ll be gone for about an hour and a half.”
She turned her head so she could see him. “I’ve shopped before. Amazingly enough, on my own. So far I’ve avoided major disasters and shoplifting. I’ll be fine.”
“You have enough money?”
The question touched her, mostly because his concern was involuntary. He was the last of the good guys.
“My boss just gave me a raise. I’ve got plenty.”
“Have fun.”
He disappeared out onto the street. Randi looked over the store, then started toward the racks of dresses against the far wall. She needed something for the dance. Maybe she would pick up another pair of jeans and some T-shirts, too.
An hour and fifteen minutes later, she stepped onto the escalator to the ground floor. She’d bought a simple summer dress, on sale, along with a pair of jeans and two shirts. In the shoe department, she’d found an inexpensive pair of pumps. Everything she’d purchased had cost less than the cheapest dress in her closet in Grand Springs. If it didn’t have a designer label on it, her mother didn’t want it in the house.
Those clothes weren’t her, she thought as she moved down the center aisle, glancing left and right, looking for Brady. It had taken her a long time to finally figure out she didn’t care about who made the clothes as long as they fit and were comfortable. Keeping up with the latest styles didn’t interest her, nor did she worry about a trendy haircut. Thank goodness, because with her unruly curls, she was destined to always look a little messy.
She reached the front door, then turned back to face the store. On the far side, in the middle of the “creams and junk” department, she saw Brady talking with an older woman. From the way they chatted and laughed, they must be old friends. That made sense. Growing up near a town this small, Brady probably knew just about everyone.
As she crossed the store, she tried to ignore the flickering in her stomach. The butterflies had returned. She sighed. She wanted her nerves to be about coming to town, not about Brady. While he was nice and handsome and a lot of good things, he wasn’t for her.
She paused in the middle of the teen department and stared at him. He was so different from Hal. Not just in looks, but in temperament and style. Hal was the kind of man who measured every action based on how it would look and how many votes it was worth. So different from his mother, Olivia, the beloved mayor of Grand Springs. Hal was more like Randi’s mother—cold and always calculating. One the other hand, Brady acted a certain way because he believed it was right, regardless of who might or might not be watching. Hal was a politician down to his bones. Brady was just a man.
She’d known her ex-fiancé for years, yet, looking back at their courtship, she could easily admit she’d never known him at all. Brady had been in her life two-and-a-half weeks, yet she felt that she understood him and the code by which he lived.
Brady looked up and saw her. “You about finished?” he asked.
She nodded and held up her bags. “I’ve bought as much as I can carry. That’s when it’s time for me to leave.”
He walked over and relieved her of most of her purchases. “I thought we might stop at the ice cream shop on the way out of town. I’ve got a taste for a hot fudge sundae.”
Randi raised her eyebrows. “It’s nearly four o’clock. You’ll spoil your dinner.”
“I know. You have to promise not to tell Tex.”
Ice cream and hot fudge? How could she resist? “I’d love to join you,” she said. “If we try really hard, I’ll bet we can eat just as much dinner, too.”
“Deal.”
They shared a conspiratorial glance, then headed toward the street. Even though it was a temporary situation, Randi enjoyed fitting in. Brady was different off the ranch. Freer. Or maybe it was both of them. She’d been worried about coming into town, but she was having fun. Somewhere in the past couple of weeks, Brady had become a friend. Even if he didn’t know the truth about her, even if she needed to keep her secrets, she believed that he would be there for her if she ever needed him.
For the first time since running away, she didn’t feel alone.
Chapter Seven
Randi stretched and rolled over to look at the clock. It was nearly one in the afternoon. She would feel decadent at being in bed this late in the day if she hadn’t already worked six hours in the barn. Her late-morning nap was what allowed her to stay up until ten at night and still be able to function at four in the morning.
She’d been at the ranch three weeks today. It was the longest she’d been anywhere since leaving Grand Springs. Before, she’d always felt a restlessness after a few days, a nagging sensation that she had to keep moving. It was the only way to feel safe. But here that wasn’t necessary. If anything, she was going to have to force herself to press on. It would be far too easy to make this a permanent home.
She stood up and reached for her clothes. After slipping on jeans, a T-shirt and boots, she walked into the bathroom to wash her face and tame her hair. As usual, the braid looked tidy for about thirty seconds before the curls worked their way loose.
She went downstairs, then stepped outside to head for the barn. The men came in for their midday meal around eleven-thirty. Tex packed a lunch for anyone working too far away. For the first couple of days, she’d joined the cowboys, but she’d found it difficult not to nod off during the meal. Tex had taken pity on her and offered to keep a plate warm until the early afternoon.
Peter, the littlest kitten, sat on the porch railing. When he saw her, he meowed.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, and picked him up. He curled against her shoulder and began to purr. “Is Princess taking the afternoon off? Or did you sneak away from her?”
Usually Princess herded her charges into the shade of the barn for their afternoon nap. Playtime didn’t start until around four.
“You want to join me for lunch?” she asked the kitten. “I bet Tex would give you a treat.”
The kitten kneaded her shoulder, his eyes closed in contentment.
She walked into the dining room, crossed the linoleum floor and moved toward the kitchen. Tex sat at the small table in front of the window. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, along with a slice of strawberry pie. Across from him was a single place setting. Two sandwiches under plastic wrap, a green salad, some cut-up raw vegetables.
She set Peter on the floor, then headed for the refrigerator. After grabbing the pitcher of cold water on the top shelf, and a bowl with a single, albeit generous, serving of potato salad, she walked to the table and took her seat.
Tex looked up from the paper he read. “‘Afternoon.”
“Hi.” She glanced at her plate, then at him. “Tuna sandwiches and raw veggies? Why do I know you didn’t feed the guys that?”
He grinned. “Five-alarm chili. I didn’t think you’d want any.”
She pressed her hand to her stomach, remembering pain from the last time she’d indulged. There weren’t many things that upset her stomach, but that was one of them. “While I appreciate the thoughtfulness, you didn’t have to make me a special lunch.”
He