Sandra Chastain Read Free Page B

expectations,” Cade answered honestly. “But if I had, I would never have envisioned all this.” He had thought he was alone until he heard her speak. Being caught unaware bothered him; it rarely happened. The woman was disturbing, not only to his peace of mind but to his senses.
    From the time their eyes had met in the airport, the tension had grown. Rusty’s plan to show him what she had to offer had in no way changed that. Their plane had circled the house, farm buildings, and herds of cattle grazing across the pastureland. She landed on a private airfield that stretched across the flat landscape and ended at a hangar that housed the plane and several pieces of farmequipment. They climbed into a waiting Jeep that Rusty Wilder drove fast but expertly to the white stucco ranch house.
    The setting sun caught the red roof tiles of the house, turning them the same fire-shot color as Rusty’s hair. She drove around to the side of the horseshoe-shaped house and came to a stop just inside the courtyard. For a moment she stared at the steering wheel, relaxing her grasp one finger at a time before leaning back and letting out a deep breath.
    The sun dropped behind the mountains in the distance as if a curtain had been lowered. In March the air was still cold, and with the moon covered by a blanket of clouds, the night sky turned volcano-black.
    “We’re here, McCall.”
    That was the extent of her conversation. Cade nodded and followed her inside. A plump gray-haired woman identified as Letty led him up the center stairs to the upper level and down the curved hallway to the left.
    “You’re in the guest wing of the house,” she explained. “Rusty’s room is opposite yours, across the courtyard in the other wing.” After taking a long assessing look at Cade, she smiled and nodded as if in approval. She told him that dinner would be served in forty-five minutes and left the room.
    He might have told her that he hadn’t expected a ranch hand applying for a job to be invited to have dinner with the owner, but he wasn’t just any hired hand. He was auditioning as a husband.
    Cade allowed himself for a moment to wonder exactly what Rusty Wilder had in mind. The kindof experience she was seeking wasn’t something he could put on a job application. And there were no references to be checked. Mrs. Wilder would have to take a calculated risk. Or ask for a demonstration.
    That thought set his blood pulsating and refused to be dismissed. Cade felt his body begin to react. He should have gone into Fairbanks a day early. But the only woman he’d known intimately had married last year. Until now, he’d thought that he’d closed off that part of his life. He groaned.
    There wasn’t even a snowbank nearby to plunge into. A cold shower would have to do. Then he’d take a look in his bag. Eugene had packed it, and knowing Eugene’s eclectic taste, its contents might prove to make the evening even more interesting.
    The private bathroom offered both a Jacuzzi and a shower. He choose the shower, crossing his fingers that the water was cold and the pressure firm. He wasn’t disappointed. An electric razor was plugged into the wall, and he used it. He wondered if it had been placed there for him or if some other occupant had left it behind.
    When he returned to his bedroom, he found a pair of dark slacks and a gray striped shirt laid out on his bed, new clothes that he’d never seen before. Even Eugene hadn’t gone this far.
    Cade picked up the shirt and fingered the soft finish of the fabric—expensive, imported. He frowned. The woman wasn’t kidding when she said that she was offering him employment with special privileges. He was being bought, from the skin out. And Cade McCall was not now and neverhad been for sale. He’d earn his own way, for himself and for Pixie—somehow or other.
    Cade emptied his duffel bag and sighed with relief. Eugene’s choices were good. He found a fresh blue chambray shirt and a clean pair of