Cowboys Don't Marry the Beauty Read online

  Ford wasn’t smiling anymore either. “It will. But the fact of the matter is they’re starving out there.”

  “One starving person plus one starving person doesn’t equal anything but two starving adults and four starving kids.” He grinned. “I’ll take the groceries, but you’ll have to find someone else to be the man of that house.”

  Ford eyed Sawyer. “You should consider finding a girl.”

  “I think there’s a saying about a pot and a kettle?”

  “As soon as I have a face that a woman might not mind waking up to, I’m going to get right on that. You, on the other hand...”

  “Am dirt poor and have nothing to offer her,” Sawyer said easily.

  “At least you know she’s not marrying you for your money.” Again, Ford had to fight to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

  “Yeah.” Sawyer’s eyes dropped, and he fiddled with his hat brim.

  There wasn’t too much they hadn’t told each other over the years, but Ford realized with a start that Sawyer was hiding something from him now.

  Sawyer adjusted his hat on his head. “I think marrying the wrong girl would be worse than not being married at all. And there are worse things in life than being poor.” He walked to the door. “Guess I figured I’d rather be poor and single than rich and married.”

  “Getting married doesn’t make you rich. I’ve heard it works the opposite way.”

  “Yeah. Think it usually does.” He put his hand on the knob. “I’ve heard it’s supposed to be a bad winter.”

  “Typical for North Dakota,” Ford said dryly.

  “Might not see you around much.” Sawyer’s eyes were dark, shaded into oblivion by his hat brim.

  Unease bit at Ford’s gut. Sawyer had never fully recovered from last winter. There wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on him anywhere.

  Ford narrowed his eye at Sawyer, feeling somehow that Sawyer was saying more than he let on. They’d been friends too long for him to miss it.

  He hadn’t tried to do ranch work since his accident. He probably could. He’d figured out his prosthesis, which was tricky since he didn’t have a knee, and he barely missed his fingers, except when he was shaking hands. He’d never gotten used to that.

  “I should have helped you this summer,” he finally said.

  “If I’m still around next summer, you can walk the walk.”

  Teeth sank into his gut. “Why wouldn’t you be around?”

  Sawyer shrugged. “No reason.” He opened the door. “See you around.”

  Chapter 6

  Morgan sat at Georgia’s desk, feeling like a trespasser. She’d been in the chair for a good forty minutes and hadn’t been able to do anything other than move the note Georgia had left from one corner to another.

  Ford had told her what her “duties” were, but that was it. Nothing after that. Morgan helped Mrs. T as much as she’d let her, then sat at Georgia’s desk and wondered how she could, in good conscience, cash a paycheck.

  Georgia’s note hadn’t been overly helpful, but at least while she was in here, she could open the curtains and let some light in. How could Georgia stand to be in this gloomy house all the time? Morgan’s mood had been sinking since she came. She needed light.

  Her phone buzzed with a call. Her aunt.

  “Hello?”

  “Morgan. Are you busy?”

  “Not really.” She hadn’t been busy since she came. “Is everything okay?”

  Aunt Betsy sighed. “Things are just fine. Except your uncle insists he wants to butcher that tom this week, and you know what the doctor said about him lifting things, and it must weigh forty pounds. I thought I could put him off if you’re going to be home sometime this week.”

  Given how little she’d been needed so far, she should be able to go home with no problem. She’d even considered asking about having the weekend off, but since she hadn’t really worked, she hated to. Plus, if she left, Ford would be alone, and for some stupid reason, that pulled at her heart.

  “I’m sure I can. You tell Uncle Harry I haven’t butchered a turkey in years, and I don’t want to miss it.” That wasn’t precisely true. The timeframe was accurate, but grocery shopping was much easier, not to mention less bloody, than butchering.

  “I’ll do that, sweetie. You let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll cook all your favorites. You are way too skinny.”

  Being “skinny” was what had kept her employed. Even though she’d pretty much quit watching what she ate, she hadn’t gained weight. Maybe the stress of the dark house and the prickly, mysterious boss.

  She chatted with her aunt for a few more minutes before hanging up, no closer to doing any work for the day than she had been.

  If only Ford didn’t seem to deliberately avoid her.

  Was Ford’s face as bad as he made it out to be? Was the laughing boy she remembered from high school still in there somewhere? Or had his bitterness and anger destroyed what he used to be?

  There was something about him that pulled her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she should resist it or if she should push to be closer. Although he was her boss...

  Her phone buzzed. She jumped, bouncing in her chair.

  Turn Georgia’s computer on. From Ford.

  She obeyed, since he was her boss. Still, he could say it a little nicer, surely. Not that she hadn’t worked with worse people. She had. Being with Ford that night in the solarium had made her even more curious about what made him tick.

  Her phone buzzed several more times with instructions, including passcodes. Her heart perked up. Looked like she was finally going to do something more than wander around the house and wish she had work to do.

  Thankfully the passcodes were all in the texts. His instructions came so fast, there was no way she’d have been able to do and remember everything if it hadn’t been written down.

  Two minutes later, her screen blinked, and Ford appeared on the other end. In shadow, of course. With his oversized hood up.

  “Why do you have the curtains open?” he barked.

  She tried not to blink or act guilty. “I can’t stand the gloom in this house.”

  If she could see his eyes, she’d bet they’d be rolling.

  “Don’t take those liberties anywhere else.”

  “Of course not.” She kept any trace of sarcasm out of her voice.

  “Turn the computer around and sit on the other side of the desk.”

  She stared at the screen for a moment. Like he couldn’t even stand to see light? But hadn’t the curtains in his own office been open when she’d taken the tray of sandwiches up to Sawyer and him earlier?

  She obeyed without comment. What in the world had put Ford in such a rotten mood? Or maybe this was his normal. Like she would even know.

  “Check the email. I sent you a list of names and numbers. I want you to call each of those men and work with their secretary on scheduling a video conference with the seven of us together. It’s going to take some maneuvering. I sent the link to my calendar to the email as well.” He continued on as she frantically tried to figure out how to close the video without shutting him off and find the email to bring it up.

  When his voice cut off mid-sentence, she assumed she hadn’t been successful in not hanging up on him. She also assumed he’d call back yelling at her even more.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t been yelled at plenty of times in her previous jobs. Designers whose clothes didn’t fit correctly or look complimentary always blamed the model. They were the worst. But show directors could be bad as well. At least she wouldn’t have five people pulling and yanking on her hair as she got screamed at when Ford called her back.

  She assumed he’d call her back. She had no idea how to reconnect their video call.

  She’d just found the email app on the desktop when her phone buzzed.

  Tapping it on, she hit the speakerphone button so she could get the info up he’d mentioned while he yelled at her.

  “Hello?”


  “If you think I’m being too mean, you can say so. You don’t have to hang up on me.” His voice sounded almost like there was a smile in it.

  “It was an accident.”

  “Hmm.”

  Whatever that meant. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she said, “No. I’m serious. I’ve used computers but not a Mac, and I’m just a little slow, and I’ve never done the video chat before.”

  “I see,” he said on an exhale of breath.

  It made her feel like he was suffering through her incompetence.

  “I’ll get it. I have the email up, and I have your schedule.”

  “Georgia kept all this stuff on her phone, too, so that she could change anything at any time.”

  “Okay.” She picked up her phone from where it was sitting on the desk and pulled up the email app. “I’m ready for the email password.”

  He didn’t answer, and she realized that the green bar was no longer on top of the screen. Had she hung up on him again?

  She gripped her head with her hands. Why hadn’t she been happy when she didn’t have any work to do? At least she hadn’t screwed that up.

  She should call him back.

  Her phone buzzed. She dropped her hand to grab it in such a rush she knocked it to the floor. It bounced under the desk. Scrambling off the straight chair, she dropped to her hands and knees, then onto her stomach as she reached under the desk, moving her hands around on the floor, feeling for her phone as it continued to buzz.

  How in the world her phone had bounced so that it was almost at the other side of the desk, she had no idea, but by the time she’d grabbed and swiped, she was sprawled under the desk, and her hair had gotten caught on something because several thick strands were hanging in her face.

  It was a FaceTime call, she realized after she swiped. “Hello?” she said in her most professional voice.

  How she wished she could see his face. Almost as fervently as she wished he couldn’t see hers. The silence on the phone was loud and long. At least she could see his head tilt. First one way, then the other. Like he was trying to make sense of the picture on his phone.

  “Are you...” His head tilted again. “Are you...under the desk?”

  She cleared her throat. “It does appear that way, doesn’t it?”

  “Is there...someone with you?”

  Her eyes widened. What would have given him that idea?

  “No.”

  “So, you did that to yourself?”

  “I must have.”

  “Did you black out?” There was definite concern in his voice.

  “No.” In all her years as a runway model, she’d never fallen off the runway. She’d seen it happen, but never to her. This felt a hundred times worse.

  “So, you’re under the desk, your hair’s a mess, and your shirt is...undone...”

  She gasped. Trying to continue to prop herself up with her elbow, she reached her hand around, grabbing the gaping lapels of her button-down blouse, fisting them in her hand, and clutching it to her chest.

  “How about I...call you back when you’re not...under the desk?”

  She put the phone facedown on the floor and slid it out from under the desk. Then she wormed herself out. Doing a quick fix job on her hair, she buttoned her shirt clear to her neck and bent to pick up her phone. The green bar still flashed at the top.

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.” For a man who didn’t want to be seen, it was weird that he did a video call then a FaceTime call.

  “Hmm,” he said, like he didn’t really believe her.

  Or maybe he was trying not to laugh at her. She did want to see him laugh. Just not at her incompetence.

  She straightened her shoulders. Whatever was wrong with her, she needed to shake it. But first, she should apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy or pathetically incompetent. I’ve never hung up on my boss before, and today I’ve managed to do it twice. On accident. I really am sorry. I’m going to do better.”

  “You’ve never worked with Georgia.”

  “No.”

  “It’s an adventure every day. She’s organized and competent, though.”

  “Usually I am too.”

  “Let’s get my schedule downloaded to your phone. If you don’t have the memory to handle everything, we’ll get you a new phone...actually, let’s do that too. We’ll order you a prototype that’s the same as mine. Make a list.”

  In the next twenty minutes, they’d made her a list of almost fifty things to do. Some as small as ordering office supplies for pickup when Mrs. T made the once-a-fortnight run to town. Morgan actually felt like she had a job. It was a good feeling.

  “There are a couple of administrative assistants for the people on that list who will try to push you around. Don’t let them. If you have any questions or concerns, you can reach me anytime.”

  “Okay, I’ll get started right away.”

  “That’s fine. Make sure you break for supper.”

  “I will.” She didn’t plan on saying the next words. They just came out. “You’re eating with me, correct?”

  Silence on the other end of the line, like she’d shocked him.

  “No.” The green line disappeared.

  Although she was disappointed they wouldn’t be eating together, a smile still tugged her lips up. He came off as gruff sometimes, bossy, too, but he’d been patient with her, and that was a good sign.

  It was then that she realized she’d never asked him if she could go home for the weekend.

  ~~~

  Ford stood in the solarium and watched the sun set. Jack, the cat the vet had pressured him into adopting, because apparently they believed that no good deed should go unpunished, relaxed in his arms.

  When he made several large monthly donations to the animal shelter/vet clinic that had moved into the area, they’d called and asked if he was interested in adopting a “special needs” cat.

  Jack had cerebellar hypoplasia, so his balance wasn’t the greatest and he walked with a high-stepping gait and somewhat spraddle-legged.

  It made him look like he’d walked into a liquor cabinet thirsty and walked back out...not thirsty. Apparently that, along with the fact that he was out of the cute kitten stage, was a turnoff to parents adopting a kitty for their children. No one wanted a cat that looked like it was drunk.

  But Jack enjoyed attention, even if he was shy. His purr vibrated his whole body as Ford’s right hand stroked down his fur.

  Morgan would be in the dining room for another twenty or so minutes. Enough for him to enjoy the sunset and escape to his rooms.

  Except he wanted to invite her to look at the stars with him.

  A grin stole over his face as he thought about her on the floor, under the desk, her hair falling down in her face and her shirt gaping open. He’d closed his eye, but he hadn’t wanted to.

  When he first saw her coming up the walk, he’d thought she’d be aloof, stylish, and untouchable. Not today.

  Although the stylish ice princess might be able to help him better in his business, he enjoyed the slightly clumsy, not-totally-in-control woman she’d been today. It made her beauty hurt his eye a little less. A sweet pain, though, since he’d been unable to keep from wanting her on his screen. He could use the security cameras, but it felt like spying when she was in Georgia’s office. She wouldn’t be expecting it.

  Sawyer had said to use her. Well, Ford would. Maybe. He’d given her enough to do today. He’d see how she handled it. Or maybe, he’d see how he handled it. He still felt off-balance around her. Not to mention that he could hardly stop himself from wanting to look at her, but looking at her made him feel inferior in the worst kind of way. An odd conflict that played out constantly when he was around her.

  Jack stretched, rolling in Ford’s arms with complete trust. Jack was smaller than an average cat and skinny. He had trouble balancing when he ate and drank so seemed to do it less. But his personality was more dog than typical cat.
r />   Ford scratched his belly, and Jack stretched out, his front paws extended out over his head, his back paws pushing against Ford’s bicep.

  He needed to focus on his business. On the meeting he hoped Morgan could set up with him and the companies that would be most interested in purchasing the rights to make and distribute his prototype.

  A little voice in his head reminded him that he could produce his own prototype with that billion dollars he’d inherit if he got married. He wasn’t sure where that voice came from, because marriage hadn’t been on his radar since Shauna walked out of his hospital room.

  He hadn’t seen Shauna in years and didn’t keep up with her, either.

  Orange splashed across the sky, bathing the whole countryside in its glorious glow. The two best times of the day were sunrise and sunset. He tried not to miss them.

  Should he text Morgan and asked her to join him? He wanted to. He wanted to get closer. To get to know her better. But that was a dead end. It’s not like they’d ever even be friends. She’d go back to modeling...why did she quit modeling? That, and a million other things he wanted to know, made him shift Jack to one arm and reach for his phone, pulling it out then stretching it.

  Care to watch the evening stars come out?

  His finger hovered over the “send” button. He was playing with fire. Didn’t he remember how his pride and confidence had been devastated by Shauna’s betrayal? Hadn’t he sworn to never, ever allow another woman to have that power over him? He should run the other direction every time he even considered spending more time with Morgan.

  He lifted the hood of his cape then pressed “send.” The door clicked then opened at almost the same time.

  Jack came alive in his arms, struggling until Ford set him down. He ran in a jig-jag pattern, smashing into the wall by the door and bouncing off before hitting the door and going through like a rocket with only one booster working.

  “Was that a cat?” Morgan asked.

  There was still too much light for him to look at her, so he kept his back turned. “It was.”