She turned to Mike. “Slade said he’s ready, so shall we go? It’s a short walk.”
“Sure,” he said, watching her cross the room and joining her, catching the faintest scent of an exotic perfume. He held the library door for her and then fell into step beside her as they walked down a wide hall that held potted palms and an elegant arrangement of chairs and loveseats. A splashing fountain was built into one of the walls and marble statuary and oils in gilt frames lined each side.
“Is this your art?”
She laughed, a melodic, cheerful sound that made him want to get her to laugh again. “Not all of it. Some of them. I specialize in Western art and portraits. One of the horse paintings is mine.” She pointed to the nearest painting. “The black horse.”
“Very nice,” he said. As he commented, he thought what a pity that Thane’s wife wasn’t older, less attractive, less appealing and less friendly because then she would definitely be less tempting.
Outside, they followed a stone path bordered by beds of blooming yellow jonquils and purple irises to a gate that he opened and held for her.
“Thank you,” she said as she walked through and he followed, closing the gate. “I really know so little about this ranch other than that we raise Hereford cattle. I do ride because we had a family farm that we went to occasionally and I had a horse, but that farm was nothing like this ranch and I didn’t spend much time with my horse. And I don’t here. I’m really not a ranch person. Also, I think the farm was more of a place for my father to relax.”
Mike saw barns, corrals and garages for the various cars, trucks and the one limo. In another direction there were houses and fenced yards. They approached a single-story building with lots of glass and wood.
“Here’s the foreman’s office. And here comes Slade,” she said as a door opened and a tall, slender man came out. He was in boots, jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt. In spite of the protection of his broad-brimmed Western hat, his skin was brown, wrinkled and weathered. His gray hair was long at the back of his neck.
“Slade, meet Mike Moretti, Thane’s ranger friend. Mike, this is Slade Jackson, our foreman.”
As Mike shook hands, he looked into gray eyes that stared intently at him. “I’ve heard about you from Thane, Mr. Jackson, and what a great job you’ve always done.”
“Call me Slade. Hate to step down, but the time has come. This is a family ranch and it’s been here through seven generations of Warners. It goes way back. I understand you’ve worked on a ranch.”
Vivian took a step forward. “Before you answer Slade, I’ll tell you two goodbye,” she said to the two men. “I enjoyed meeting you, Mike, and we’ll talk some more. You and Slade can come to some decisions.”
He gazed into her eyes and the thought crossed his mind that he could look at her for hours. Instantly, he thought about her from a few minutes earlier, crying over Thane, the man she once loved. And still loved. Mike knew he hadn’t imagined his reaction to touching her and he was equally certain that she had felt something, too. Why did they have the slightest chemistry between them when neither one wanted it? Was it really going to help for him to take her to dinner a couple of times to drive away a bothersome neighbor? Or would an evening together complicate both their lives?
Vivian walked back to the house with her emotions churning. Mike Moretti was the kind of man she had expected from Thane’s glowing description. What she hadn’t expected was the flash of awareness whenever they made physical contact. They didn’t know each other, so it wasn’t because she liked him. And she missed Thane every hour of every day. She missed him, she hurt and she didn’t want to go out with another man. Asking Mike to take her to dinner had been purely to get Clint to stop bothering her.
She really knew very little about Mike except what Thane had told her. She knew that her new foreman was one of Thane’s best buddies. She knew he was single, dependable, trustworthy, honest, strong, intelligent and understood ranching. Thane had mentioned all of those qualities, but as for actual facts about his life, Thane had said almost nothing and she hadn’t asked. She had always thought Thane would come home to her and she was still shocked over his death. She hated to ask Mike to take her out, especially on his first day here, but she wanted to be up front about it. She was becoming desperate to get Clint Woodson out of her life. He annoyed her like a fly steadily buzzing around her.
Any of her close friends would know when she went out with Mike that it didn’t really mean a thing to her. Clint, however, wouldn’t know that. She looked forward to the day when he was no longer bothering her and trying to get her to sell the ranch.
Her thoughts jumped back to Mike and her reaction to shaking his hand this morning. That stirring of awareness, that skitter up her spine, had shocked her and she couldn’t get it out of mind. She didn’t want to feel anything toward any other man. She loved her husband even if he wasn’t coming home to her. Was she making a mistake by going out with Mike?
She told herself she wasn’t. After all, she wasn’t interested in anything romantic and he didn’t act as if he was, either. She shrugged away her worries about going out with him, telling herself it would only be a polite evening with talk about the ranch and maybe good memories from Mike about Thane.
She entered her house and went to her room to change her clothes so she could paint. She didn’t expect to see Mike Moretti again until he moved in and worked for the Tumbling T.
* * *
Tuesday morning, Slade was showing Mike around the ranch. Everything was in good shape, even the garages where they stopped in for a tour of the vehicles.
Mike turned when Slade held out a set of keys to him.
“Thane wanted you to have his horse and his saddle and his truck.” Slade pointed out the newer vehicle to their right. “She’s all yours.”
“I think that’ll do nicely,” Mike said, shaking his head and silently thanking his friend. Leave it to Thane to have thought of everything.
After he looked over the truck, he turned to the foreman. “Looks like the Tumbling T is top notch. Is there anything this ranch needs that it doesn’t have?”
Slade laughed. “Just an owner. Vivian really doesn’t have her heart in this. She likes it out here, but she has no love for ranching, the horses, the land, not even that monster house he had built for her.”
Mike smiled. “It is a monster house. At least some people are living in it and enjoying it.”
“Yeah, they are. I think they like it more than she does.”
The two men walked over to the barn for a tour.
“Wait here and I’ll go get Thane’s horse,” Slade told him. “I can tell you that you’re going to like him. He’s a winner.”
Slade disappeared inside and came back out leading a black horse. Mike’s gaze ran over the horse and he smiled. “That is one fine horse.”
“He’s the best cutting horse on the place. He’s fast, fast enough to race. He’s the best and Thane loved him. Thane’s saddle has his initials on it and it’s the fanciest saddle in there. He has more than one, but you’ll see the one I’m talking about and you’ll like it.”
Mike led the horse into a corral and turned him loose, running his hands along his neck, feeling the muscles and the smooth hide, his coarse black mane.