The Lady's Man Read online

  But Zeke McBride wasn’t asking her to spend the rest of her life with him, just let him help get her Jeep off the rock it was stuck on. And for that, she supposed, she could trust him. Gossip was the main source of news in the area, and if one of the McBride men had a habit of accosting women on the side of the road, she surely would have heard about it by now.

  “Mothers tend to be more than a little prejudiced when it comes to their sons,” she said dryly. “But there aren’t any frogs out this time of year, so I guess I’m safe enough.”

  “Until spring, at least,” he agreed, winking at her. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s see about getting you off that rock.”

  All business, he leaned down again to examine the situation and swore softly. “Damn, that thing’s as big as a house and the back wheels are on ice! We need a tow truck, but in this weather, you’d probably have to wait half the night for one.”

  “What about stuffing some branches under the front wheel that’s not touching?” she suggested. “That’s what I was trying to do when you drove up. I thought if I could get all four wheels touching, I might be able to get some traction.”

  Frowning at the wheel, he nodded. “That might work if we can get the front end jacked up and get something under the wheel bigger than that rock. We need a log or something.” He glanced around and spied one half-buried in the snow. “There! That should do it!”

  She helped him pull the log over to the Jeep, and as they worked, the storm worsened. Gale-force winds buffeted them, while the snow continued to come down in sheets, covering everything in sight, including the branches she’d started to collect when she’d realized she was stuck. The tracks left by both her Jeep and Zeke’s Suburban had already disappeared, and visibility was down to ten feet.

  As much as she liked to think of herself as a woman who could handle just about anything, Elizabeth knew she was lucky Zeke had come along when he had. With enough time, she’d have been able to get her Jeep unstuck by herself, but time was something she didn’t have tonight Not when the temperature was already in single digits and conditions were quickly becoming dangerous.

  In near silence they worked together, jacking the front end up, then rolling the log under the wheel and wedging it in place. The branches Elizabeth had collected were packed behind the rear wheels for traction, then Zeke was carefully lowering the jack. Half expecting the weight of the vehicle to dislodge the log under the front wheel and bring the transfer case right back down on the rock, they both let out a sigh of relief when it held firm.

  They still, however, weren’t home free. “The log’s in there pretty tight, but it could shift once you start to back up,” he told her as she climbed back into the Jeep and rolled her window down so she could hear him if he yelled at her to stop. “Just take it slow and you should be okay.”

  Her heart pounding, she shifted the transmission into reverse and once again carefully pressed the accelerator. For a second the rear wheels spun, searching for traction. Then, just when she was about to give up hope, the Jeep began to move. Afraid to stop for fear she’d get stuck again, she didn’t hit the brakes until all four wheels were on solid ground and she was well back on the road.

  Even then she couldn’t seem to let go of the steering wheel. She still had a death grip on it when Zeke walked around to the driver’s side and grinned at her. “You okay?”

  She nodded, then laughed shakily as she forced her fingers to release their grip on the wheel. “Yeah. I was beginning to think I was going to have to spend the rest of the night on that rock.”

  “That was never an option,” he assured her. “If worse came to worst, I’d have given you a lift home and you could have dealt with all this tomorrow.” Casting a glance at the storm raging around them, he frowned. “This is getting damn nasty. Maybe I should follow you home just to make sure you get there safely.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” she began. “I just—”

  She started to tell him she could easily make it the short distance home by herself, only to remember that she’d claimed to be married to the sheriff. With the way her luck was running tonight, he probably knew that the sheriff lived in a homemade log cabin on the other side of town. The second she told him she lived just down the hill, he’d know she’d lied to him.

  Still, she should have told him. After the way he’d helped her, he deserved the truth. But it was getting late, she was tired, and she knew a man like Zeke wouldn’t be able to pass up the chance to flirt with her once he knew she was single. And that was the last thing she wanted to deal with tonight. Anyway, what would it hurt to let him continue to think she was married? she reasoned. She didn’t socialize with the McBrides, and he was probably only in town for a short visit with his family. The chances of her ever seeing him again were slim to none.

  “Actually, I drove out this way to check on my sick aunt,” she fibbed, and prayed he didn’t notice that she couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “She just lives a little farther down the road. I’m sure I can make it on my own. Anyway, you’ve helped me enough, and your family must be expecting you. You should get going before the weather gets any worse. I’ll be fine.”

  For a moment she thought he was going to insist on escorting her to her fictional aunt’s, but something in her tone must have warned him he was wasting his time. Giving in gracefully, he smiled. “If you’re sure, then I’ll be on my way. Stick to the crown of the road and you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  With a final salute, he turned away, took three steps toward his vehicle, and was swallowed whole by the stormy night. Watching her rearview mirror, Elizabeth knew his truck was somewhere behind her on the side of the road, but she couldn’t see it—or him—anywhere in the blowing snow. Then his brake lights flashed in the darkness, and she realized she’d been afraid he’d lost his way in the storm. She should have know better. From the little bit she’d seen of Zeke McBride, he appeared to be a man who knew where he was going.

  A few seconds later he tapped his horn at her in a sharp farewell and then he pulled away, his headlights cutting a swath through the darkness as he slowly headed toward Liberty Hill. Alone again in the storm, Elizabeth once again turned into her drive. This time, she didn’t misjudge the edge of the ravine.

  Zeke had told his mother to expect him around six. Two and a half hours late, he turned off the highway and drove through the entrance of Twin Pines, the ranch that had been his family’s for nearly a century. The house where he’d grown up—and where his sister Janey and his mother still lived—was another three miles down the road, but he was home the second he drove onto McBride land. It had always been that way. It didn’t matter that he’d established a life of his own in Cheyenne or that his work kept him too busy to come back to the ranch very often. He’d been born and raised there; the red dirt of the place was and always would be in his blood.

  He drove by his brother, Joe’s, house and wasn’t surprised to find it dark and deserted. He would be at the homestead, along with Janey, Merry and his mother, to celebrate the return of the prodigal. A quick grin of appreciation curled Zeke’s mouth at the thought. He was the only one who had left the ranch and moved away, and it was always the same his first night back when he came home for a visit. His mother pulled out the best china, cooked all his favorite foods, and the rest of the family teased him about being the favorite. And what, he wanted to know, his blue eyes twinkling, was wrong with that? Any number of women had told him he was downright adorable.

  Just imagining how Joe would roll his eyes at that, he chuckled as he topped the hill that overlooked the valley where the first McBride had started the ranch with a tworoom cabin decades ago. In the near whiteout conditions of the storm, he could see little but the faint glow of the lit windows of the house where he’d been born and raised, but he could imagine every porch and veranda, the mammoth rock fireplaces, the angles and gables of the metal roof, as clearly as if it was a bright summer day.

  It was a rambling place
that had been added on to a half dozen times, a blending of rock and logs and different architectural styles that had come in and out of fashion over the years. It could have been a real eyesore. Somehow, though, it all flowed together to create a home with a surprising amount of character that was more a result of chance than design.

  And inside, the family was waiting for him. As he reached the circular drive in front of the house and pulled up behind his brother’s pickup, he could see that the curtains hadn’t been drawn in the living room so that they could see him when he drove up. Before he could even cut the motor, the entire family was rushing toward the front door.

  Seconds later he blew inside, bringing a whirlwind of snow with him. At the sight of the worry on all their faces, he teased, “Hey, why all the long faces? Somebody die?”

  “We were beginning to think you had,” his mother retorted with a grin that matched his own. Reaching him first, Sara McBride ignored the snow that clung to him and hugged him fiercely. At sixty-three, she hardly looked old enough to have four children in their thirties. Oh, there was a definite touch of gray in her brown hair, but she was still as slim as a girl, and in her blue eyes, there was a sparkle of good humor that only the young at heart were blessed with “You’re a little late, Son.”

  “I called—”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Both his sisters pounced on that. “That was an hour and a half ago!” Janey scolded. “Haven’t you been listening to the radio? There’s a travel advisory for western Colorado. Highway 90 was closed down over forty minutes ago.”

  “There’s been at least a dozen wrecks just in Falls County alone,” Merry added. “We were afraid you’d run off into a ditch or something.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t the one who had trouble,” he replied. “There was this woman—”

  “There always is,” Joe drawled, his brown eyes twinkling. “Though how you manage to find one in the middle of a blizzard, God only knows. What’s her name this time?”

  “Mrs. Nick Kincaid.”

  That stopped the entire family in its tracks. Frowning, Merry sputtered, “Our Nick Kincaid?”

  “That’s what she said,” he said as he shrugged out of his coat.

  “But Nick’s not married.”

  “He never has been.”

  “Apparently she didn’t know that,” Zeke retorted. “Or if she did, she was hoping I didn’t. Of course, she didn’t actually mention Nick’s name,” he added ruefully. “She just said she was married to the sheriff, and I didn’t have to help her because he would be along any moment. I think I scared her.”

  “Zeke! You didn’t!” his mother scolded. “What did you do to the poor girl?”

  “Nothing! But I couldn’t just drive off and leave her there. She was stuck on a rock right there by the old Murphy place, and I knew if I didn’t help her, nobody else was going to come along. Not with the storm intensifying the way it was and the condition the roads were in.”

  “So what was she doing out there in the first place?” Janey asked. “Who was she?”

  Zeke shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue—I’d never seen her before. She said she was visiting a sick aunt.”

  “But nobody lives out that way but the Hollisters and old man Jackson, and neither one of them have any family in the area,” Joe pointed out. “What’d she look like? And don’t tell me you didn’t notice because she was all bundled up and it was dark,” he said before Zeke could even open his mouth. “A woman would have to be wrapped in a shroud for you not to notice her. So let’s have it. Age, weight, physical description.”

  Amusement glinting in his eyes, Zeke didn’t bother to pretend innocence. “Pretty, late twenties, early thirties, big green eyes, dark blond hair, five-six, a hundred twenty pounds. She was gutsy, the independent type. She might have been stuck on a rock, but she wasn’t sitting around waiting for a man to come along and rescue her. I don’t know how long she’d been there when I stopped, but she was already on her knees trying to stuff a branch under one of the tires of her Jeep.”

  It was, he knew, a description that could have fitted any number of women who lived in western Colorado, but something he said struck a cord with Joe. Surprised, he said, “That must have been Elizabeth Davis. Was she driving a white Jeep?”

  “Yeah How’d you know?”

  “Independent doesn’t begin to describe the lady. She rented the Murphy place about four months ago, before she even moved to town.”

  “She’s no dummy,” Merry retorted. “She knew nobody would rent to her once they found out who she was. And I think it’s a dirty shame. She’s done nothing but do her job, and all she gets for it is grief.”

  Scowling, Joe opened his mouth to disagree, but that was as far as he got. “Oh, no you don’t,” his mother said, stepping between them. “We’re not going to get on the subject of that darn wolf project again. Not when supper’s already two hours late and drying out on the stove. Girls, help me dish the food up. Joe, you can fix the tea while your brother washes up.”

  She used her mother voice, the one that could, even now, when they were long past adolescence, make them straighten up and behave. Grinning, they all saluted smartly, drawing a laugh from her, and fell to their assigned tasks.

  The meal, as expected, was one of Zeke’s favorites. Smothered steak and gravy, mashed potatoes and homemade biscuits. He groaned at the first bite, savoring familiar tastes, but as they sat around the old dining room table while the storm raged outside, it was the company he enjoyed the most. It had always been that way, ever since he’d left home for college the first time. He could be gone for months at a time, but he only had to hug his mother, greet his brother and sisters, and it was as if he had never left. They would sit together for hours at the table, devouring the apple pie his mother had made as they talked and laughed and caught up on each other’s lives.

  They shouldn’t have been close—not when they were such a diverse group. A Ph.D., a rancher, a prom queen and an old maid. He didn’t like labels, especially for the girls, but in a rural community where everybody knew everyone else, there was no avoiding them. But as different as they were, they all had one thing in common. All in their thirties, they’d never had much luck when it came to the opposite sex. Oh, Joe had been married, but it lasted less than a year when the city girl he’d fallen for went back to the bright lights and shopping malls of Denver. Then he himself had made the mistake of losing his head over a pretty medical student when he was working on the last year of his doctorate. She’d had his engagement ring on his finger when he’d caught her in bed with a plastic surgeon. He hadn’t loved her enough to forgive her.

  The girls had been luckier, he supposed, if you could call it that. Merry could have her pick of dates, but she’d never given her heart. And then there was Janey. She was thirty-six and had, to his knowledge, never dated a man in her life. While other women were looking for Mr. Right, she seemed content to devote herself to her patients at the nursing home, where she was a nurse. It sounded like a lonely existence to him, but at least she’d been spared the pain of a broken heart. That was something he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

  “Why the frown?” Merry teased, interrupting his musings. “She got home safely.”

  Blinking, he growled, “Who?”

  “Elizabeth Davis. Even if you hadn’t come along when you had, she still would have found a way to get off that rock. She’s a very resourceful lady.”

  “And evidently not very popular with the locals.” More than willing to be distracted from thoughts of his love life, he settled back in his chair and said bluntly, “Okay, so who is she? An ax murderer? A stripper? What? Why wouldn’t anyone want to rent to her once they found out who she was?”

  “Because the only reason she’s here is to reintroduce wolves into the Liberty Hill National Forest,” his brother told him grimly. “She may not use an ax, but in some cattlemen’s eyes, she’s as close to a murderer as they want to get. She’s a wolf biologist.”

  Sur
prised, Zeke whistled softly. “Did she work at Yellowstone?”

  Joe nodded. “She was part of the recovery team that selected the wolves in Canada, then reintroduced them into the park. The project was so successful that the government decided to try it again here.” Finishing the last bite of his pie, he pushed his empty plate away. “As you might imagine, some people haven’t exactly greeted her with open arms.”

  “I heard the people involved in the Yellowstone project received hate mail and even death threats,” he said, frowning. “Surely that’s not going on around here.”

  “There has been talk,” his mother said somberly. “People are afraid. There haven’t been any wolves in this area since the thirties, and no one knows what they’ll do. They haven’t even been released from their holding pen yet, and the teachers at school are afraid to let the kids outside for recess.”

  “But that’s ridiculous!” Zeke said. “Wolves won’t attack people. In most cases, they won’t even go after cattle or sheep.” He knew. He was a wildlife biologist, and although wolves weren’t his particular field of study, he knew enough about them to know that the odds were slim that one would attack anything but elk and coyotes.

  “It’s the worst-case scenario that’s got people all jumpy,” Janey said. “Ever since Elizabeth Davis and her team came to town, the wolves are the only thing people are talking about. They don’t care what statistics say, they’re scared.”

  “There’s a town meeting scheduled for tomorrow night at the VFW hall to discuss the project,” Joe told him “I was hoping you’d go with me and give me your input.”

  He didn’t have to ask him twice. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it. We don’t have the protected eco system Yellowstone does, but it’s still a damn interesting project. I suppose Elizabeth Davis is going to be there.”