Free Rancher at Risk by Barbara White Daille Page B

over there mentioned your name.”
    “Things are looking pretty good. An interesting place this ranch is gonna be with all those boys coming to stay.”
    He didn’t care to think about the boys. Or any kids at all.
    “You starting work on the corral today?”
    He shook his head. “No, we’ve got a list of other things to do first.” Things that would keep him well away from the ranch house and the construction site.
    “Gotta go get that bag of new cloths I left in the truck,” Tony said. “Forgot it once already.”
    Ryan walked alongside him, slowing down some to accommodate the other man. Tony had claimed a space for his pickup truck on the grass close to the bunkhouse, saying he liked keeping an eye on his pride and joy. Ryan suspected the proximity to the bunkhouse saved the old man’s leg from extra wear and tear. And maybe, like Lianne, he didn’t like to admit to some things.
    As they turned back, something rustled in the underbrush alongside the bunkhouse.
    “Speedy critters,” Tony said, pointing at the jackrabbit now bounding across the yard.
    Lianne wouldn’t have heard the dry crackle of brush. All around, birds stretched their wings, mama birds chirping wake-up calls and their babies greeting the dawn, warbling songs she could never enjoy. How did she feel about missing all the sounds most people took for granted?
    “You heading over to the barn?” Tony asked.
    “Yeah. You?”
    “I’ll be along shortly. Just need one more cup of coffee to wake me up properly.”
    “Not me.” First time in a long time he’d almost slept the night through. Only one nightmare. And he’d woken to a quiet house.
    He couldn’t help but smile. Now he knew why Lianne made more noise than anyone he’d ever met. She couldn’t hear the racket she made.
    As he left Tony at the bunkhouse, he acknowledged the plan to get her out of his thoughts had failed dismally.
    As he rounded the barn, he saw his timing had only made things worse.
    He froze, staring at the vision near the back porch steps.
    She wore body-hugging exercise gear so shiny it seemed as though she’d oiled the blue fabric. The slanting rays of the rising sun glanced off every inch of her, making her sparkle.
    When she began twisting from side to side, loosening her oblique muscles, he stepped back a pace into the shadows beside the barn, not wanting to startle her.
    Okay, hell—not wanting to scare her off completely.
    She went through a handful of stretches, reaching down to set her palms almost flat on the ground to elongate her spine, stretching up to the sky, unknowingly offering him full view of every sun-sparkled curve of her silhouette. Her limbs moved as easily as a puppet’s dangling from its strings, while every last muscle in him tightened in response.
    A quick jog took her to the top of the porch steps. She lowered herself into a crouch and then sprang up to grab the edge of the porch roof and heave her body into chin-up position.
    His mouth opened in stunned surprise until he found the wits to close it again. His feet might have put down roots. Nothing short of an earthquake would get him to shift from that vantage spot.
    No need to spare a moment for guilt. Any cowhands arriving at the barn the way he had would see her. Any driver or rider coming far enough up the driveway would have the back porch in full view. Still, he couldn’t deny the sudden fierce hope that this was a sight meant just for him.
    Her exercises had started his blood pumping, too. Soon they had his breath trapped in his chest.
    She worked through a series of yoga stretches, her gestures unhurried and graceful, as if she moved to music only she could hear. Eyes closed, she kept her face toward the sun, letting its rays wash over her. The gleam of reflected light dazzled him.
    He clenched his fists, wishing he could take the place of the sun and touch everywhere that light fell, wanting to run his fingers down her lean limbs and to warm her soft, cool curves with his