“Red-winged blackbirds, cactus wrens, roadrunners, owls, deer,” she corrected. “Not to mention wildflowers by the score. Even the cacti bloom,” she added, and there was a sudden softness in her dark eyes, a warmth in her voice that was usually missing.
He bent his head to light a cigarette. “It looks like desert to me. How’s your trail ride coming?”
“I left the guests with Chappy,” she said with a sigh. “Mr. Howes looked as if one more bounce would put him on the ground. I hope he makes it back to the ranch.”
Tyler smiled slightly as he glanced at her rigid figure in the saddle. “If he falls off, we’ll need a crane to get him back on.”
Nell grinned without meaning to. He wouldn’t know it, but he was the first man in years who’d been able to make her smile. She was a somber, quiet woman most of the time, except when Tyler was around. Then she’d found out what he really thought of her….
“Tyler, could you take over the camp out for me?” she asked unexpectedly. “Marguerite and the boys are coming for the weekend, and I have to go into Tucson and get them.”
“I can handle it, if you’ll persuade Crowbait to cook,” he agreed. “I’m not making biscuits again. I’ll quit first.”
“Crowbait isn’t so bad,” she defended. “He’s—” her dark eyes narrowed as she searched for a word “—unique.”
“He has the temperament of a cougar, the tongue of a cobra and the manners of a bull in heat,” Tyler said shortly.
She nodded. “Exactly! He’s unique.”
He chuckled and took another draw from his cigarette. “Well, boss lady, I’d better get those strays before somebody with an itchy trigger finger has beef for supper. I won’t be long.”
“The boys want to go looking for Apache arrowheads while they’re here,” she added hesitantly. “I told them I’d ask you.”
“Your nephews are nice kids,” he said unexpectedly. “They need a firmer hand than they get, though.”
“Marguerite isn’t the ideal parent for two high-strung boys,” Nell said defensively. “And since Ted died, it’s been worse. My brother could handle them.”
“Marguerite needs a husband.” He smiled at the thought of Marguerite. She was like the life he’d been used to—sophisticated and uncomplicated and pretty. He liked her because she brought back sweet memories. She was, in fact, all the things Nell wasn’t. “But a dish like Margie shouldn’t have much trouble finding one.”
Nell knew her sister-in-law was beautiful, but it hurt somewhere deep inside to hear Tyler acknowledge Margie’s good looks. Nell was only too aware of her own limitations, of her round face and big eyes and high cheekbones. She nodded, though, and forced a smile to her unlipsticked mouth. She never wore makeup. She never did anything to draw attention to her…until recently. She’d tried to attract Tyler, but Bella’s comments had killed the notion. Tyler’s subsequent behavior had buried it.
Now Nell knew better than to make eyes at Tyler. Besides, Margie was just his style, she thought bitterly. And Margie was interested, too.
“I’ll go into Tucson, then, if you’re sure about the camp out. And if you can’t find those strays by five, come back in and we’ll let your Texas friends look for them in the morning,” she added, referring to two of the older hands who shared a Texas background with Tyler and had become fast friends of his in the six weeks he’d been in residence.
“I’ll find them,” he said carelessly. “All I have to do is look for a puddle of water, and they’ll be standing on their heads in it.”
“You already know not to sit in any dips or washes,” she murmured. “Out here is even worse than in Texas. It can be raining twenty miles away and the sky can be clear, and before you know it, you’re in a floodplain.”
“We have flash floods where I come from,” he reminded her. “I know the dangers.”
“I was just reminding you,” she said, and hated the concern that she’d unwittingly betrayed.
His eyes narrowed and he smiled unpleasantly, stung by her condescending attitude. “When I need a nursemaid, honey, I’ll advertise,” he said in a pronounced Texas drawl.
Nell steeled herself not to react to what was blatantly an insult. “If you have a chance tomorrow, I’d like you to speak to Marlowe about his language. One of the guests complained that she was getting tired of hearing him swear every time he saddled a horse for her.”
“Why can’t you tell him?”
She swallowed. “You’re the foreman. Isn’t keeping the men in line your job?”
“If you say so, ma’am.” He tipped his hat with faint insolence, and she wheeled her mount too quickly, almost unseating herself in the process when she pulled on the bit too hard. She urged the horse into a trot and soothed him, stroking his mane as she apologized. She knew Tyler had seen that betraying action, and she felt even worse. She was the last person on the ranch who’d ever hurt a horse voluntarily, but Tyler had a talent for stoking her temper.
He watched her go, his cigarette smoking, forgotten, in his lean, tanned fingers. Nell was a puzzle. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known, and she had quirks that intrigued him. He was sorry they’d become antagonists. Even when she was pleasant, there was always the reserve, the bitter holding back. She seemed to become rigid when she had to talk to him.
He sighed. He didn’t have time for daydreaming. He had to find six little red-and-white-coated calves before dark. He turned his horse and moved into the thick brush.
Nell dawdled on her way back to the adobe ranch house. She wasn’t anxious to have Marguerite around, but she hadn’t been able to find an excuse to keep the redhead away. Tyler’s remark about her sister-in-law still rankled. He found Marguerite attractive, and it wasn’t because of Nell that Marguerite was finding reasons to spend time on the dude ranch. She wanted Tyler. She’d made it obvious with her flirting.
Marguerite was beautiful, all right. She was redheaded, green eyed, and blessed with a figure that looked good in anything. She and Nell got along fairly well, as long as neither of them looked back nine years. It had been Marguerite who’d helped put the scars on Nell’s young emotions. Nell had never been able to forget what had happened.
On the other hand, it wasn’t until Tyler came that Nell really noticed how often Marguerite used her. She was impulsive and thought nothing of inviting her friends out to the ranch for horseback rides or of leaving her two young sons in Nell’s care.
Those actions had never bothered Nell very much until lately. Recently, Nell had been feeling oddly restless and stubborn. She didn’t like the idea of Marguerite coming for two weekends in the same month. She should have said so. Giving in to her sister-in-law had become a habit, the way of least resistance. But not anymore. She’d already given Marguerite some unmistakable signals that little Nell wasn’t going to be walked over anymore.
Margie only came out to see the Texan, Nell was sure of it. She felt a sense of regret for what she might have felt for Tyler if he hadn’t made his lack of interest so apparent. But that was just as well. Margie had made it obvious that she liked Tyler, and Nell knew she was no competition for the older woman. On the other hand, she was pretty tired of letting Margie use her for a doormat. It was time to say so.
* * *
Her sister-in-law and her nephews, Jess and Curt, were already packed and waiting when Nell parked the Ford Tempo at the steps of their apartment. The boys, redheaded and green eyed like their mother, made a beeline for her. At seven, Jess was the oldest. Curt was five and already a contender for a talking marathon.
“Hi, Aunt Nell, how about taking us to hunt