Lonesome Ryder: Lonesome Ryder / Restaurant Romeo. Carol Finch

Lonesome Ryder: Lonesome Ryder / Restaurant Romeo - Carol  Finch


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tried to tell herself that the hostility and resentment radiating from Wade Ryder wasn’t a personal affront. His pain and frustration, caused by incapacity and injury, must’ve given rise to his black mood, she diagnosed. She’d never caused such an adverse reaction to anyone—that she could recall, leastwise.

      When he’d dismissed her so rudely she’d been tempted to lash out at him, but she’d been trying to make a good first impression. Apparently she hadn’t. Wade had looked and behaved as if he disliked her on sight. Ironically he’d had the opposite effect on her. In addition, she’d been distracted by the astonishing family resemblance between the three men who looked more like brothers than first cousins.

      According to Quint Ryder there was another first cousin named Gage who was out of the country on business and rented his ranch to them during his absence. She wondered if Gage was as ruggedly handsome as his other cousins. Probably.

      Laura had never been in a room with so many strikingly attractive men—excluding her four older brothers. While her brothers were the collective picture of suave sophistication and refined good looks, the Ryder cousins were the personification of tall, dark and devilishly handsome. Yet, it was Wade Ryder, looking rumpled, surly and vulnerable, who’d drawn her curiosity and interest. She couldn’t recall feeling such an immediate attraction to a man before. Something about him simply called out to her on a basic level.

      Not that her attraction to him mattered, Laura reminded herself sensibly. Attracted or not, she was here to fill a temporary position that would enable her to make a down payment on the quaint little farmhouse she’d seen for sale when she drove into Hoot Owl’s Roost—or Hoot’s Roost as the locals referred to the rural community. She’d fallen in love with the house immediately and she intended to accumulate the money to make the farm her own—by her own means, without the unwanted assistance of her overprotective brothers who’d probably find all sorts of fault with the house.

      Moving to Oklahoma was a declaration of independence from her well-meaning but smothering brothers. Laura wanted to prove to herself, and to her brothers, that she could manage her life and make sensible decisions without her brothers’ constant input. That was another reason why this summer job and this situation with Wade was so important to Laura. She could reassure her brothers that she could handle herself around a man without falling head over heels for the first one she met—one who hadn’t been screened and checked out by her brothers.

      “Laura?”

      She glanced over her shoulder to see Quint and Vance sauntering downhill, looking more devastatingly handsome than any two men had a right to, smiling the kind of smiles that made females from eight to eighty sigh in appreciation. All that glossy raven hair and those swarthy physiques wrapped in chambray, denim and leather were impossible to ignore. But in Laura’s opinion, Wade Ryder was the biggest, baddest, most dangerous heartthrob of all. And why? Because she detected a hint of vulnerability and defensiveness about him that she identified with. Because he was far from perfect and she’d spent too much time around her all-too-perfect brothers who put Mary Poppins to shame.

      “The job’s yours,” Quint announced. “We put your luggage in a spare bedroom. We’ll be around at the end of the week to check on Wade and see how you’re managing with him.”

      Laura smiled gratefully. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate your company. I’ll see that his household runs smoothly while he recuperates.”

      Vance grinned slyly. “You might offer Wade a massage every now and then,” he suggested. “He’s sore and achy after my bull steamrollered over him.”

      “Plus, Wade’s home could use a cheery touch,” Quint inserted with a smile. “You know, a few bouquets of wildflowers, all the windows flung open wide to allow plenty of light and fresh air, that sort of thing.”

      “And change things around a bit,” Vance added. “The place has looked the same way for years. New furniture arrangements might perk him up a little.”

      Laura frowned when the Ryder cousins exchanged amused glances. “Sure. No problem. I can handle that.”

      “Well, then, we’ll get to work and leave you and Wade to get acquainted.” Quint touched the brim of his hat and nodded politely. “See ya in a few days. We’ll be back to inoculate Wade’s cattle for him.”

      “Bye, Laura,” Vance said with a wave and a grin.

      When the men climbed into the fire-engine red pickup and roared off in a cloud of dust, Laura squared her shoulders, stiffened her resolve and headed for the house to unpack her belongings. She was going to be helpful and cheerful and prove to Wade that she wasn’t an unwanted inconvenience in his home. He’d find no fault with her, she vowed. She’d take her job seriously and put in a hard day’s work for a hard day’s pay.

      This would be no different than the first week of a new school year, she mused as she strode toward the sprawling ranch-style brick home on the hill. It always took her and her students several days to get acquainted and for them to adjust to her way of conducting class. It took a week for her to evaluate the various personalities of her students and determine the best way to deal with them. The same held true for Wade Ryder. In a week she’d know how to handle him and her duties. Things at the ranch would run like a well-oiled machine, she convinced herself.

      Mentally prepared, Laura pasted on a smile and ventured inside the house. Wade was still ensconced in the massive leather recliner in his very masculine, no-frills living room. The ranch décor, with landscape paintings of rolling hills, rustic barns and grazing livestock, fit this rugged rancher, Laura decided. The room lacked a woman’s touch and the heavy drapes were drawn—save the one window near the front door. She’d take Vance and Quint’s suggestion to give this dark room an open, visitor-friendly appearance.

      “What the hell do you have in those three coffins my cousins dragged in here? Dead bodies?” Wade asked abruptly.

      The snide questions and the harsh tone in which they were delivered caused Laura’s smile to wither on her lips. She halted in midstep. “Coffins?” she repeated, bemused.

      “Yeah, those coffin-size suitcases,” he said, grimacing as he leaned sideways to retrieve the glass of ice water on the end table. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a ranch, not a resort hotel that requires scads of fancy clothes to attend scheduled activities. A couple of pairs of faded jeans and T-shirts are all you need.”

      Laura reflexively flinched at his catty insinuation that her country-club attire, packed in those coffin-size suitcases—as he referred to them—was inappropriate for her new job. If Wade was trying to aggravate her, he’d succeeded. While it was true that she came from a privileged background she never flaunted wealth and she certainly didn’t consider herself better than anyone else. But one look in Wade’s direction indicated that he thought that she thought she was just a step below royalty and hadn’t put in a day’s work in her life. That was nowhere near accurate. She and her brothers prided themselves in being hard workers. Wade had no right whatsoever to presume anything about her when they’d only just met.

      Man, this guy was a real piece of work! He might be as handsome as sin but he acted like the very devil!

      “I’ll go unpack,” she said between her teeth as she made a beeline across the spacious room.

      “That’ll probably take you the rest of the day,” he said, then smirked. “I guess I can forget about your squeezing in time to scrounge up something for my supper.”

      The smart-ass comment brought her up short. She glanced back at those glittering green eyes that shouted disapproval and animosity. “My job description is to cook, clean and ensure you take care of yourself during your recuperation, Mr. Ryder,” she said in a tone she usually reserved for ill-mannered students. “Supper will definitely be served. What time do you usually eat?”

      He scoffed, as if she’d asked a stupid question. “This is a ranch, Seymour. You’ve obviously never been within shouting distance of one before, or else you’d know that supper is scheduled around chores that always come first.”

      She


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