To Love a Stranger Read Free Page B

twenty-two-year-old Zoey Fuller was a rare beauty who didn’t comprehend the devastating effect she had on men. She’d had beaus, but none she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Her father had given her free rein after her mother died when she was twelve, and during those years she’d acquired a mind of her own and a temper to match. She was equally as comfortable in flannel shirt and denim pants as shewas in a dress. Since Robert Fuller’s death, she’d run the ranch with the help of Cully, a crusty old cowhand who’d worked for her father for as long as she could remember. If he had another name, he’d never divulged it to anyone as far as she knew.
    Now Cully was the only hand left on the place. The others had either quit or been driven off by Willoughby’s men. Raiders had been systematically stripping her ranch of livestock, and she was on the brink of bankruptcy. After her father’s death, Zoey learned that ranch hands were reluctant to work for a woman.
    With Willoughby and other ranchers in the area offering higher wages, Zoey was between a rock and a hard place. Willoughby was breathing down her neck, and time was running out. When no fiancé showed up she’d be forced off her land. Marrying Willoughby wasn’t even an option she’d consider. She wouldn’t have that liar and cheat if he were served up on a silver platter.
    Zoey left the house in a wretched mood. There was so much to do and so little time. It was nearly impossible to run a ranch with only Cully to help with the chores. Perhaps she’d go into town later today and try again to recruit hands. Her last two trips had been a waste of time. Willoughby had spread the word that employment at the Circle F would be temporary, that the ranch was in deep trouble financially.
    Zoey went to the barn and started pitching hay down from the loft. She noted that Cully had been there earlier to let the horses out into the pasture. She worked tirelessly until her arms began to acheand her stomach rumbled from hunger. She’d only nibbled at breakfast this morning, and lunch sounded good right now. She suspected Cully would be hungry too.
    On her way to the house, Zoey remembered that she’d used the last of the potatoes in the bin. She’d have to go to the root cellar for more. Rounding the corner of the house, she noted that the cellar door was slightly ajar but thought little of it. The door was heavy, but Zoey was accustomed to performing difficult tasks and pried it open with ease. Zoey carefully made her way down the steps into the murky darkness.
    The sack of potatoes, she recalled, was sitting in the far corner. She felt her way across the dirt floor, nearly falling when she stumbled across an obstacle in her path, an obstacle that hadn’t been there yesterday. She dropped to her knees, and her searching hands encountered something warm, something soft … something human. She recoiled in alarm. God, why hadn’t she brought a lantern down with her?
    She stifled a scream when the object moved beneath her hands. Proceeding with caution, she encountered what felt like a bundle of rags. But the bundle of rags had muscles, hard muscles, and a wide chest, and … and … a face covered with stiff bristles. A man! She sat back on her haunches and stared hard at him. Shocked, she wondered why he was so still and what he was doing in her cellar.
    Suddenly he grasped her wrist and she cried out. A moment later a light appeared at the opening of the root cellar.
    “Are you down there, Miz Zoey?”
    Cully stood at the top of the stairs, holding a lantern.
    “Oh, Cully, thank God. Come down here quickly.”
    “I heard you scream. You find a big rat down there?” He started down the stairs. “I set some traps the other day when I saw they were eating the potatoes and carrots.”
    “Not a rat,” Zoey said, wresting her wrist from the stranger’s grasp. “There’s a man down here.”
    The intruder let out a groan and Cully rushed to his side,