Under His Protection. Linda Turner
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have been chiseled out of the granite mountains that formed the western boundary of the ranch, he had tough written all over him.
And for some reason, that set her teeth on edge. It was the hard glint in his eye, she thought. That I don’t give a damn look that a lot of women found impossible to resist. She wasn’t one of those women.
“I realize I’m not familiar with the local customs,” she retorted, “but do people usually bring guns to a wedding in Colorado?”
“That depends on who’s getting married and why,” he replied dryly. “They’ve been known to take them to funerals, too.”
Not believing that for a second, Elizabeth sniffed, “I wasn’t born yesterday, Mr. Cassidy. Just because I was born and raised in England doesn’t mean that I don’t know a line of bull when I hear it.”
“Really?” The corner of his sensuous mouth curling with mocking humor, he lifted a dark male brow at her. “Then maybe you’d care to tell me what that bulge is under your brother’s tuxedo jacket?”
“What bulge?” she demanded. “What are you talking about? Buck wouldn’t wear a gun to his own wedding!”
“Then he’s got a tumor under that jacket,” he said. “And so does just about every man here. Didn’t you notice? Or did you think we’re all nothing but a bunch of hicks in bad suits?”
“No, of course not! I’m not a snob, Mr. Cassidy. I’ve been too busy circulating to notice how anyone was dressed.”
“For your own safety, I suggest you keep your eyes and ears open whenever you’re around your neighbors, Miss Wyatt. They’re not your friends.”
“I’m well aware of that,” she said stiffly. “I know all about the attacks on the ranch. As far as I’m concerned, my brother and sisters and I can’t trust anyone.”
“Including me?”
“Including you,” she retorted honestly, then graciously added, “At least for now. I know Buck has a great deal of faith in you and that you passed a background check with flying colors. For what it’s worth, I hope you do turn out to be as trustworthy as you claim to be. It would be nice to know that there’s at least one person outside the family we can trust.”
John had to give her credit. He didn’t know another woman, short of his mother, who would have looked him right in the eye and given him such a straight answer. “Trust takes time,” he said flatly. “Luckily I’ve got plenty of that.”
He had, in fact, nowhere else to go, and he was pretty damn sure that Elizabeth Wyatt knew that. If Buck had told her everything, then she knew that his past was less than stellar. Oh, he’d been a Navy SEAL, and he’d been damn good at it. But then he’d made a mistake—just one—and a man had lost his life.
How many years had he punished himself for that? Three? Five? His commanding officer, the base psychiatrist, even the chaplain, had assured him that everyone made mistakes—it could have happened to anyone. Nothing they’d said, however, had helped. Because he’d killed his best friend, and the memory of that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
He’d tried to forget. But years of drinking hadn’t dulled the images from the past—just destroyed his life. His wife had walked out on him, he’d lost his ranch, his self-respect, everything he cared about. And it was all gone forever. When he’d told Elizabeth he had nothing but time, he hadn’t lied. He had nowhere else to go, and nothing to do but lose himself in work.
“Just for the record,” he added, “I’m not interested in getting my hands on your land. I just want to do the job I was hired to do. That means taking care of the ranch…and you and your sisters when Buck’s not here.”
For a moment, he didn’t think his words registered. Then her sapphire-blue eyes flashed indignantly. “Take care of me and my sisters? You think that was the job you were hired to do?”
“I know it’s one of them,” he retorted. “If you don’t believe me, ask Buck.”
“Don’t worry. I will.” Lifting her chin, she stormed off to find her brother.
She found him almost immediately, but it quickly became obvious that she wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to him in private. The dancing started, and almost immediately a cowboy asked Elizabeth to dance, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor before she could even think to object. Luckily, she’d worn her cowboy boots, just as Buck had suggested. After that, she was on the dance floor for what seemed like hours.
Breathless, she finally escaped with the excuse that she needed something to drink, but then the photographer snagged her and the other bridesmaids and the single women in the crowd so Rainey could throw her bouquet. No one was more surprised than Elizabeth when it fell right into her hands.
“Oh, my God!” she gasped, blanching. “Rainey, you threw that at me deliberately!”
Grinning, she didn’t deny it. “You’re the oldest. Your turn’s next.”
“Oh, no, it’s not!”
“You’ll be married by next year,” Priscilla predicted with dancing green eyes.
“I will not. I’m not even dating anyone.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Katherine chuckled. “Everybody knows not to catch a bridal bouquet. Those things are deadly.”
Rainey chuckled. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Buck hasn’t thrown the garter. Today could be your lucky day.”
The words were hardly out of her mouth when Buck threw the garter and hit an eighty-year-old widower right in the chest. The older man had no choice but to catch it.
“That-a-boy, Marlin!” someone in the crowd crowed. “You’ve been pining for Ludie Morgan all these years. Now she can’t say no when you ask her to marry you!”
“Forget Ludie,” a cowboy at the back of the crowd advised over the laughter of the crowd. “Elizabeth’s prettier!”
Hot color stinging her cheeks, Elizabeth had to laugh. She was saved from having to make a response when Timothy Reynolds, Buck’s best man, announced that the bride and groom would soon be leaving for their honeymoon. Friends and family pressed forward, heading for the barn, and as Elizabeth waited with them, she knew that even if she had a chance to talk to Buck for a few minutes, she wouldn’t tell him about her problems with John Cassidy. This wasn’t the time to burden him with any strife between her and his foreman. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t handle the man. She was an owner; he was an employee. End of story.
“Are you sure you can handle everything here by yourself?”
“Maybe we should stay. I could work on my designs here, and Katherine can take some time off from work. Her boss won’t mind.”
Fighting tears as her sisters tried to talk themselves out of leaving the next morning, Elizabeth hugged them both fiercely. “Don’t be silly. You’ve got your show to work on and Katherine has to be home for Tracy Lawrence’s wedding. And you don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine. Quit worrying.”
“Easy for you to say,” Katherine retorted. “What if someone tries to kill you the way David Saenz did Rainey?”
“David’s dead—”
“So?” Priscilla said. “Somebody hired him to blow up the mine, and whoever it was is pretty damn desperate to drive all of us away so he can get his hands on the ranch. That’s the person you need to be worried about. We don’t even know who he is!”
“You know I won’t take any chances,” she replied, hugging them each as the cabby put their luggage in the boot. “And John Cassidy’s here. The man’s tough as nails. He’s not going to let anything happen to me—Buck would have his hide. So quit worrying. I’ll be fine.”
Katherine and Priscilla