Behind Closed Doors Read Free

when it came to women, implied he was getting to be as bad as Big John. Nathan just hadn’t forgotten how complicated they were.
    “Hi,” she said as she got closer, putting her hand out and smiling at Woody. “Mr. Landers? I’m Bethany Wilson.”
    “No, ma’am, I’m Woodrow Knudsen.” He yanked off his hat. “You can call me Woody, same as everyone else.”
    Nathan folded his arms across his chest, though she hadn’t even glanced at him. He’d finally realized who she was, right before she’d given her name.
    Her smile stayed in place, and so did her extended hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Woody.”
    He dragged his palms down the front of his grungy Levis. “Ma’am, I’m awfully grimy.”
    “So am I.” She pushed her sunglasses up on her head and inspected the dark smudges on her hand. “How rude of me not to have checked first. I’m sorry,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s stain from yesterday, so it wouldn’t have rubbed off on you. It doesn’t seem to want to come off at all.”
    “Paint thinner ought to do the trick,” Woody said, grinning so hard you could see where his back teeth were missing. He noticed Nathan watching him and sobered, clearing his throat. “This here is Nathan Landers.”
    “Oh.” She turned to him and blinked, surprise flickering in her face. Her gaze went to his mouth and jaw, then slid up to his eyes. “I didn’t—” She smiled again. “Mr. Landers, I’m Beth—”
    “I heard you the first time.” He kept his arms folded. “What is it that you want, Ms. Wilson?”
    Her eyes narrowed, assessing him, her poise unshaken. “I left you two voice mails. I have the feeling you got them.”
    “I did.”
    “And had you wanted to talk to me, you would’ve returned my calls,” she said very matter-of-factly.
    “Sounds about right.”
    “What calls?” Woody asked, looking confused and peeved. “I thought you didn’t know her.”
    He wasn’t up to dealing with Woody’s disapproval just because she was a woman. She hadn’t been invited, period. “Go hire the kid,” Nathan said, jerking his head toward the corral. “Let him start when he wants and pay him for today.”
    When Woody didn’t move, Nathan frowned at him.
    “First off,” Woody said, jamming his hat back on his head. “I reckon I know how to handle a new hire. And second, I ain’t gonna interrupt him in the middle of breaking that mare.”
    Beth had turned her gaze to the corral. It wasn’t just her legs that had drawn his interest...she had pretty eyes, he’d give her that, too. They were kind of green with flecks of gold and brown. When she cringed and put a hand to her throat, he turned to see what had caused her alarm.
    Brian had taken another trip over the mare’s head and landed on his ass in the dirt. The kid cussed like a veteran. Woody chuckled and even Nathan smiled a little.
    “Wow,” Beth said. “Is this how you interview people? Good way to get free labor.”
    “What’s that?” Woody obviously didn’t understand her jab, but Nathan did, and he sure didn’t appreciate it.
    “Well, Ms. Wilson,” he said, tugging down the rim of his Stetson to block the sun. “I’m sorry you made the drive out here for nothing. You should’ve taken the radio silence as a clue.”
    She stared at him, her lips parting. “Wait. Can’t we talk about it?”
    Nathan had started to turn for the house but stayed right where he was, his gaze lingering on her mouth. The shape and lushness of her lips went straight to the plus column, right under eyes and legs. A stiff breeze stirred stray wisps of fine blond hair around her flushed face and molded the T-shirt to her breasts. They weren’t small. The damn plus column was getting too crowded.
    “Talk about what?” Woody looked back and forth between them. “Hells bells, Nathan, do you know what this is about?”
    “The lumber we had delivered this morning. Ms. Wilson seems to think there’s a mix-up.”
    “Not exactly. Jorgenson