Free Rancher's Deadly Risk by Rachel Lee Page B

scents—aromas of laundry soap, shampoo and woman. Most especially woman. It was faint, but as it hit him, he knew he’d better get her home soon.
    Then she tugged her jacket off and he got a whiff that filled him with an instant longing so strong his jeans felt tight. Not good. Had he been crazy? Had he really thought that bringing her out here to see the reality of his life would cause her to put up a wall between them?
    Because she wasn’t acting as if it had. She had honestly seemed to enjoy it all. Maybe that was its newness, but it certainly hadn’t worked for turning her away yet.
    Instead he would now have the powerful memory of her sitting in his kitchen and smelling like temptation personified.
    Yep, he’d been an idiot.
    But there was no denying he liked having her here. Liked seeing another face across the table, liked the scents of woman that wafted around him. Liked not being alone.
    Even though alone was where he was going to wind up. She’d never stay. Never. She might as well be trying life out on Mars.
    Something indefinable flickered across her face, yet it communicated some kind of unhappiness. For all he’d avoided looking at her since she started teaching, he couldn’t seem to stop looking now. Oh, he had it bad.
    “I can’t stop thinking of that rat,” she said quietly.
    That was nearly as good as an icy shower. He found it possible to breathe again and relax a little. “It was pretty bad,” he admitted.
    “Serial killers do things like that.”
    “So do stupid kids who routinely kill vermin and hunt.”
    Her green eyes looked almost haunted. “Seriously? Or are you just trying to reassure me?”
    “You can’t grow up on a ranch or farm around here without having killed things. It’s just life. You shoot coyotes, you kill rats, you even have to butcher deer or elk or some steer that you raised from babyhood. It’s a part of life, not a thrill.”
    “I guess I’m having trouble connecting with that.”
    “I can understand that. But you said it yourself earlier. You’re from a different way of life. I’m just saying that these students are familiar with this kind of thing. It’s part of protecting their ranches and feeding their families. No thrill in it, but they’d sure be able to guess it might give you the willies.”
    “Because I’m an outsider.”
    “Because you weren’t ranch-raised. Kids in town find it repulsive, too, which makes them the butt of jokes sometimes. But killing a rat? That’s nothing. They kill them all the time to keep them out of feed and out of the barns. I would almost bet the sheriff finds this one was caught in a trap before they killed it. And once it was in a trap, killing it would have been a mercy. Chances are it had a broken neck or back.”
    She shuddered. Well, he told himself, that was the reaction he had wanted. Too bad that he hated to see it.
    “Okay,” she said, appearing to stiffen herself. “I get it. I’ve trapped mice in my home upon occasion.”
    “Same thing. You’re lucky if the trap kills them cleanly, but it doesn’t always. And most folks around here don’t want to put out poison for them.”
    “That’s odd, because I’ve heard of poison bait being used to get rid of coyotes.”
    “It’s allowed, but it’s dangerous. Your dogs might get it. Your cats. And when it comes to rat poison, the problem gets bigger. So most of us try to avoid those methods. Cats and traps in the barn are preferred.”
    “I guess I’ve got a lot to learn.”
    He tried to smile reassuringly. “Everyone does. Look, I’m not defending what that culprit did, putting that rat on your desk. But while it was intended to upset you, and maybe frighten you, I doubt anyone meant it as a serious threat. Chances are some numskull thought it would be funny.”
    “God!” Worse was that she had taken this very sensible attitude only this morning, and now she was resisting the very reasoning she had offered herself. Why were her thoughts shifting