Wedding Bells at Wandering Creek

He frowned. “Wait a minute. I thought we were going to come up with a story that I’m a friend of your brother’s. That way we can talk to each other, and it will also explain my inexperience with horses.”

“You’re right. I just don’t want people to think…” Her pretty face reddened.

“That there’s something between us,” he finished for her, hating that the idea so obviously bothered her.

She nodded. This time she didn’t hide her sadness. “It’s been rough since Dad’s death. Mother has only now been willing to go public with the reopening of the camp. It was important to her—to us that we keep the camp going.”

Jack walked to her. The boots added another inch or so to his six-foot-two height. Her gaze widened as he approached and he wondered where the strong, brassy woman who tried to chase him away had gone. He caught an unguarded glint in her eyes, a hesitant tone in her voice. He knew she didn’t let people see this side often. It made a man feel protective…almost.

“So being Matt Kingsley’s good daughter,” he said, “you took charge and got things going again.”

Willow stiffened, and her eyes flashed. “That’s the thing, Jack. I wasn’t always the good daughter.”

Willow hated that she was actually looking for the man when she walked into the barn early the next morning. Jack Sullivan was trouble. As much as she wanted to believe him, she wasn’t sure he was here to help her brother.

Trust didn’t come easy for her, especially with men.

All she’d ever wanted was to find a love like her parents had. Married for thirty years was a rare thing in Hollywood, or anywhere. She could still see the loving look in her father’s eyes whenever her mother walked into a room.

For years, whenever Matt Kingsley went on location for a movie the media had tried to stir up rumors of an illicit romance. But her parents’ love had survived whatever the tabloid press threw at them.

And Willow had thought she’d found a man who emulated her father, Scott Richfield. Instead, she got someone who wanted the limelight that came along with her famous family…but not her. Only her father’s death had made her realize what kind of man Scott was. At her lowest point he’d hadn’t been there for her and in the end he’d betrayed her. And after all this time, it still stung.

Willow walked through the barn doors, and down the aisle to Dakota’s stall. “Good morning, old guy,” she crooned to the raven-black quarter horse that had been her father’s faithful companion.

The horse tossed his head, then came to the gate for some attention. She rubbed his forehead. “You want to go for a run this morning?”

He whinnied in response, and she went to the end of the barn to the tack room. That’s where she found Jack. She gasped. “Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be in here.”

Jack looked up from cleaning a saddle with a chamois cloth. “Trevor wants all the tack cleaned and oiled.”

That was true, but she sympathized with his being stuck here all day in the tiny room. “So how did the morning go with everyone?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. I met the other ranch hands at breakfast, and Larry took me out to help feed the horses. After that Trevor handed me this assignment.”

Okay, she might have to talk with Trevor. She went to the wall and took down a bridle, then reached for her saddle.

“How about a reprieve?” Jack asked as he stood and came to help her.

She paused. “I thought you agreed to this.”

“I agreed to play the part of a ranch hand, not be locked away in a room all day.”

Willow turned to the man who was dressed in Levi’s and a long-sleeved denim shirt. She noticed he had on the boots she’d given him. He looked as though he belonged here. But he didn’t and she had to remember that.

“Since you don’t know much else…” She began to lift her saddle, but he stepped in.

“I have a confession to make.” He took the saddle from the stand, then followed her out of the room and back to Dakota’s stall. “When I was twelve, I spent a summer on a ranch.”

“What else have you neglected to tell us, Mr. Sullivan?”

He placed the saddle on the bench and his dark eyes locked with hers. “That’s pretty much it.”

She nodded. “Then I guess we both can get to work.”

He cocked his thumb toward the tack room. “Come on, Willow, you can’t send me back in there.”

“It’s not my call,” she told him. “Trevor probably had a good reason for putting you to work there.”

“You’re the boss. You make the rules.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Maybe I should just ask what job you’d like.”

He braced his shoulder against the post and grinned. “Okay, I’d like to go riding with you.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”

He just kept on smiling. “What can I say? I like playing cowboy.”

“Riding a horse can be dangerous. You need to know what you’re doing.”

“It’ll come back to me.”

She opened the stall door. “I can’t risk it.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he asked. “I’ve done what your mother asked. Aren’t all the other hands going to wonder why I’m stuck in the tack room? At least let me prove that I can handle a horse.”

Willow hated to admit it, but he was right. He was trying to cooperate. Her problem was she didn’t want him here at all.

She latched the stall. “Follow me,” she told him and marched down the aisle. She stopped three stalls away where a gray gelding was housed. “This is Cisco. He’s pretty gentle.” She patted the animal’s forehead. “He’ll be your mount.”

“You’re serious?” He reached out and stroked the horse’s neck, impressing her with his ease around the animal. “You’re going to let me ride.”

“Only if you can tack up your own horse. Do you think you can?”

He grinned again and her pulse soared.

“If it will get me out of the barn, I’m willing to give it a damn good try.”

“Okay, but don’t think you’re going to get out of working. All the hands carry their weight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with another of his disturbing grins.

Willow didn’t want to find him disturbing. “Good, because the tack will be waiting for you when you get back.”

She turned and walked away, hearing him chuckle behind her. The sound made her smile, too.

But inside, Willow knew that this man was a threat to her and her family. All the time he was here he would be watching them. She had to be vigilant. Jack Sullivan was a man with a mission. He would throw her brother to the wolves if need be.