The Traveling Kind Page 5

  “He isn’t my boyfriend, but, yes, it is Chuck Weatherby from the next ranch,” Charley admitted.

  “If he isn’t your boyfriend, it isn’t from lack of trying,” he observed dryly and ran more water into his glass.

  She didn’t see any reason to argue the point. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  “It’s only a guess, but I’d say your friend wouldn’t like it.” His mouth slanted in a wry line. “So thanks for the invitation, but I think I’ll pass.”

  Charley didn’t try to change his mind because she knew he was right. His presence would irritate Chuck. With the pitcher of lemonade in hand, she returned to the living room. Stopping first near Chuck’s chair, she picked up his glass to fill it with the lemonade. He tipped his head in her direction.

  “Did I hear you talking to someone in the kitchen?” he asked.

  “Yes. Shad came in for a drink of water,” she admitted offhandedly to downplay any significance. Replacing Chuck’s glass on its coaster, she glanced at her brother. “More lemonade?”

  “No, thanks,” he refused.

  Charley refilled her glass then carried the pitcher back to the kitchen. While she had been out of the room, Shad had slipped quietly out of the back door. She glanced out the window and saw him crossing the yard to the machine shed. Fighting the twinge of disappointment, she returned the pitcher to the refrigerator shelf and rejoined Chuck and her brother in the living room. She quietly resumed her listening post in the recliner chair.

  When the Black Forest cuckoo clock on the wall sang out half-past four, it roused Charley from her chair. “I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s time I started supper.” She politely hinted that it was time Chuck left, but her brother thwarted it.

  “Why don’t you stay and eat with us, Chuck?” he invited.

  Charley could have screamed. She tried to catch her brother’s eye but he wouldn’t look at her. Meanwhile Chuck was silently debating whether or not to accept.

  “No. I’d better be getting home,” he said finally, and Charley nearly sighed aloud with relief. When he turned to look at her, she fixed a bright expression on her face. “I did want to invite you to have dinner with me Friday night.”

  “I don’t know,” she stalled, seeking an adequate excuse to refuse. “We’ll be baling hay all this week. I’ll probably be too tired. Besides, I wouldn’t like to leave Gary alone.”

  “Nonsense!” her brother scoffed at that reason. “I’m not an invalid. All I have is a broken leg, for heaven’s sake. You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. You need to go out for an evening and enjoy yourself.”

  “But who would feed you?” she argued, wishing he would keep his mouth shut.

  “Fix a casserole. Something Shad and I could warm up,” Gary reasoned with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “It seems Gary has found a solution to your problems, Charley,” Chuck inserted. “Will you come out to dinner with me on Friday?”

  It appeared that she had little choice. “Yes.” It was a clipped acceptance as she gave in to the pressure with ill grace.

  A few minutes later, after Chuck had made arrangements to pick her up at six on Friday, he rose to leave. Charley walked him as far as the front door and watched him climb into his car and drive away. She was fuming when she turned to confront her brother.

  “You really were a lot of help, Gary. With a brother like you, I don’t need enemies,” she snapped. “I’ve done everything but beat Chuck over the head trying to make him understand that I’m not interested in him. Then you go and force me into accepting a date with him.”

  “Be practical, Charley.” He tried to calm her. “He wants to take you out and you need the outing, so what’s wrong with taking advantage of the opportunity? It isn’t committing you to anything.”

  “I happen to like Chuck as a person,” she retorted. “And I don’t think it’s right to use him simply because he happens to be a convenient escort. It isn’t fair to him.” She turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen, sorry that there wasn’t a door to slam to vent some of her anger.

  Charley was still seething when they all sat down to supper that night. The tension at the table was unmistakable. Sparks flew every time she looked at her brother. Shad eyed them both with a trace of humor.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked finally.

  Gary shrugged. “Charley’s sulking because I forced her into accepting a date with Chuck this Friday. She hasn’t been out of this house in weeks. I thought she needed to get away from here and let her hair down.”

  “I can’t imagine letting my hair down with someone as conservative as Chuck,” she retorted.

  “Maybe not,” her brother conceded. “But you haven’t exactly had a flood of invitations for dates lately. And beggars can’t be choosers.”

  Fire burned in the look she gave Gary. “You’re lucky I’m not sitting on the other side of the table, because I just might be tempted to rebreak that leg of yours.”

  “There’s nothing quite like sisterly love.” Her brother grinned at Shad.

  An angry sound of exasperated disgust came from her throat as she rose from the table to fetch the dessert. There were times when her brother was absolutely impossible. Tonight was one of them.

  The week that followed was hectic, every minute filled from sunup to sundown. Charley fell into bed each night, totally exhausted, and dragged herself out of bed each morning. By Friday there didn’t seem to be enough cold water to chase the sleep out of her eyes. Finally she gave up trying. She opened the bathroom door and walked straight into Shad.

  “Oh.” It was a soft sound of delayed shock as she found her arms resting against the solid wall of his chest. She swayed backward unsteadily, trembling from the unexpected contact with his warm flesh.

  “Steady, girl.” His hands closed on her shoulders to give her balance. There was a smiling light in his blue eyes as they ran over her upturned face. His look disturbed her with its caressing quality. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” His drawling voice lowered its pitch to an intimate level. “Good ole Chuck might get the wrong idea if he found out about it.”

  Stung by his mockery, Charley broke out of his light hold and quickly sidestepped him. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she declared in a voice low with anger. But he only chuckled. “I don’t think it’s funny,” she said as she started toward her bedroom door.

  His voice trailed after her. “Tonight’s the big night, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t think that remark was worthy of a response so she closed the door on him. Yet, in the quiet of her bedroom, the encounter outside the bathroom door started her thinking about how many things they shared besides a common bathroom. They ate at the same table, slept under the same roof, drank from the same water jug out in the hay fields. She had spent more time with Shad under a variety of circumstances than she had with any other man in her life except for her brother. It was an unsettling discovery to realize how much he’d become a part of her life in two short weeks.

  Chapter Four

  Charley was ready promptly at six o’clock that evening when Chuck came to pick her up. She had left a casserole in the oven and salads in the refrigerator for Shad and her brother to have as their evening meal.

  As they walked to his car she was conscious of Chuck’s approving glance sweeping over her. The long-sleeved shirtlike dress was made out of a silky material, navy blue in color with white polka dots. It had a wide matching belt at the waistline and a flared skirt. It was one of the most flattering dresses she owned, its dark color a complement to her honey-colored hair. She wasn’t sure but she thought she might have chosen it out of spite, dressing with care simply because she had been maneuvered into accepting a date she didn’t want.

  The evening spent with Chuck Weatherby wasn’t the ordeal that Charley pretended it was going to be. He was an undemanding companion and it was easy to relax with him. She would have enjoyed it more if she hadn’t been aware that he wanted their relationship to be
come something permanent and binding. If her conscience hadn’t bothered her, it would have been a perfect evening.

  After a long and leisurely meal at a restaurant in Ketchum, Charley wasn’t surprised when Chuck suggested that he take her home. He wasn’t the kind of person to stay out until all hours of the night, and with the exhausting week she’d had, she willingly agreed to his suggestion.

  As they started out on the long drive back to the ranch Charley gazed out the window at the shimmer of stars in the night sky. They made the perfect backdrop for the magnificence of the moonlight-bathed mountain range. The combination of natural tiredness and the contentment of a good meal and pleasant company soon had Charley nodding off.

  When she caught herself almost falling sound asleep, she sat up straighter in the car seat and glanced self-consciously at Chuck. There was a faint smile curving his mouth that indicated he had noticed her lapse.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.” Her eyelids felt as if there were lead weights attached to them.

  “Use my shoulder for a pillow,” Chuck offered. “Otherwise you’ll end up with a crick in your neck.”

  “But, I—” She’d started to protest that she wouldn’t fall asleep again when she was interrupted by a big yawn that refused to be postponed. She realized she was only kidding herself. She wouldn’t stay awake for the entire ride. “Okay,” she accepted his offer and shifted closer to lay her cheek on his shoulder. Almost immediately her eyes closed.

  “You realize that we should be driving back to our own home.” It was the first remark he’d made in a long while that intimated his desire for their future. Charley stiffened and would have spoken, but he went on. “No, don’t say anything,” he said. “I’ve heard it all before, but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you, Charley. And I can’t explain what it is that makes me be so certain that someday you will wear my ring. It’s just a feeling I have. I guess that’s why I won’t give up even though you’ve made it clear that I’m wasting my time.” Charley didn’t know how to fill the silence that followed his statement. After a few minutes he said gently, “Go to sleep.”

  When she finally closed her eyes, she didn’t open them again until the car slowed to a stop in the ranch yard. She sat up slowly, stretching her shoulders and blinking away the sleep in her eyes.

  “Your brother left a light on in the house for you,” Chuck observed as he turned off the motor.

  Charley noticed it, too. “Why don’t you come in for a little while and I’ll fix some coffee?” she suggested.

  He hesitated a split second, then accepted. “All right.”

  Before Chuck had a chance to climb out of the car and walk around to her side, she had the door open and was stepping out. He waited for her by the hood of the car and walked her to the house. The coolness of the mountain air was fresh and invigorating, chasing away the last remnants of sleepiness.

  As she entered the house her gaze was automatically drawn to the lamp left burning. Shad was sitting in a chair beside it, illuminated by its pool of light. Although he was fully dressed, his large hands were busy with a shirt in his lap. He looked up when she entered, but Charley didn’t notice. She was too busy staring at the glint of silver flashing in and out of the shirt material, certain her mind was playing tricks on her.

  “I didn’t expect you home so early,” he said. “Gary went to bed about twenty minutes ago.”

  His voice broke the spell and she met his gaze, partially aware that Chuck was standing beside her. “What are you doing?’’

  “A button came off this shirt. I’m sewing it on,” Shad replied in a tone that indicated it was the logical thing to do. “There’s plenty of coffee still hot in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at Chuck and saw him eyeing Shad with a measuring look. She realized the two men hadn’t formally met. “Chuck, this is Shad Russell, our new hired man. This is Chuck Weatherby, a fellow rancher and neighbor.”

  “No, don’t get up.” Chuck waved him back into the chair when Shad started to gather his sewing together to stand.

  “You two probably want the living room to yourselves,” Shad said. “I’ll finish this in my room.”

  “Don’t bother,” Charley inserted quickly. “Chuck and I will have our coffee in the kitchen.” When she glanced at Chuck to obtain his consent, she noticed his expression appeared oddly tight-lipped. He was usually good-natured and easygoing.

  “That will be fine,” he agreed with her suggestion.

  She started to suggest that Shad have coffee with them, then bit her tongue just in time. After another glance at Chuck, she moved toward the kitchen while he trailed in her wake. The coffee smelled hot and fresh as she took two cups from the cupboard and filled them with coffee from the pot. She carried them to the kitchen table where Chuck was sitting.

  “Do you take cream or sugar?” She didn’t remember.

  “Neither.” His expression appeared grim. “Does that man sleep here in the house?” His voice was pitched low so it wouldn’t carry into the living room.

  She was startled by the question and a little bit angry at the implication that Shad wasn’t fit to live under the same roof. “Where do you think he sleeps? In the barn with the animals? He sleeps in the spare bedroom upstairs.”

  “I don’t like it.” He picked up the cup and stared into the black liquid.

  “You don’t have to like it as long as Gary and I are satisfied with the arrangements,” she retorted.

  “It’s you I’m worried about, Charley,” he explained. “It isn’t proper for a strange man to be staying here with you.”

  “Perhaps it wouldn’t be if I lived here alone, but my brother lives here, too, in case you’ve forgotten,” she reminded him somewhat acidly. “My reputation is hardly in jeopardy.”

  “I don’t think you understand my concern.” There was a wealth of patience in his voice. “You are a very attractive woman. The proximity of living under the same roof with you is liable to give the man ideas.”

  Living in the same house with Shad was giving her ideas, but she couldn’t very well tell Chuck that. “Please,” she said wearily. “It was such a lovely evening. Let’s don’t end it by arguing.”

  Pausing, he appeared to consider her request before he responded. “You’re right,” he agreed and pushed his cup aside without having drunk any coffee. “Thanks for the coffee, but it’s time I was getting home.” As he stood up Charley started to do the same, but he forestalled her. “I’ll show myself out.”

  Stopping at her chair, he crooked a finger under her chin and leaned down to kiss her good-night. He was not inexperienced. The pressure of his mouth was warm and ardent, but it left her unmoved. Charley saw the vague disappointment in his expression when he lifted his head and knew her response had been inadequate but she refused to fake what she didn’t feel.

  “Good night, Chuck,” she murmured.

  His smile was faintly sad as he left the kitchen. She remained at the table until she heard the front door close and his footsteps on the porch. She rose, leaving her coffee untouched, and slipped her hand into the silken pockets of her skirt to wander into the living room.

  In the shadows near the front door she paused and listened to the car start and drive away. Her gaze was drawn to Shad, seated in the overstuffed chair. She watched his large hand using the slim needle with such deftness as it made the last few passes to secure the button to the shirt material. Tying a knot, he lifted the thread to his mouth and bit it in two.

  “I would have sewed that button on for you,” Charley drifted out of the shadows. “You didn’t have to do it.”

  “You’ve spoiled me enough already.” He pushed the silver needle into the strawberry pincushion and returned it to her sewing basket by the chair.

  “How?” She tipped her head to one side, a heavy mass of tawny hair spilling over one shoulder. She didn’t recall going out of her way to do anything special for him.

  �
�Doing my laundry,, fixing all those delicious home-cooked meals, and keeping my room clean,” Shad replied, gliding to his feet in one motion.

  She laughed softly and came closer. “That hardly constitutes being spoiled.”

  “Maybe not to some,” he agreed with a slow smile. “How was your evening?”

  “Fine.” Charley gave a noncommittal answer because she didn’t feel like talking about it. Aware of the penetrating study of his gaze, she avoided it.

  “Didn’t he kiss you good-night?” He sounded both curious and vaguely surprised.

  She lifted her head, a little defiant. “Yes, he did.”

  Reaching out, he held her waist in his hands and maneuvered her into the lamplight so he could see her face clearly. The weight of his hands was heavy, holding her in place while his gaze wandered over her features.

  “Funny. You don’t look kissed,” he said at last. The pressure of his grip increased, pulling her slowly closer to him. His eyes seemed to change color, growing darker and becoming sober. His mouth began a slow descent, stopping before it reached her lips. While the warmth of his breath caressed her skin, she drank in the intoxicating smell of him, a combination of after-shave, soap, and that individual scent that was his alone. “Chuck is a good man. He’d make a wonderful husband and a loving father for your children. He would be good for you, Charley. You really should marry him.”

  It wasn’t at all what she had expected him to say. She flashed him a surprised and irritated look. “Everyone keeps trying to throw me at Chuck. First Gary and now you. What is this—a conspiracy?” she protested, pulling an inch or so back from his face to glare at him. “Everyone wants me to marry him, but no one bothers to ask me what I want.”

  “I think I know what you want.” His gaze centered on her lips. The desire that burned in his eyes stole her anger. “I’m no good for you, Charley. We both know it. But it doesn’t seem to matter, does it? It doesn’t change anything.”