THE TIES THAT BIND Read online

Page 5


  "Why not? He tried to force Colleen to marry my old man. He and Seamus even shook hands on a deal. Dad would marry Colleen and take over the ranch when Seamus kicked the bucket."

  "That's a lie! I don't believe you."

  "Believe it or not, it's true. Hell, Willie, the old coot was a control freak. It bugged the hell outta him that Colleen escaped, so he dangled the ranch in front of her bastards to rein them in. And you're the honey that sweetens the trap. That's the only reason he bothered to include you in his last will."

  The statement hit her like a slap in the face. Willa trembled with anger and hurt … and uncertainty. "Get out of here!" she stormed. "Get off this ranch this minute."

  "Willa?"

  Her head snapped around, and she realized that her raised voice had drawn Zach's attention. He tossed the rope he had just wound into a neat coil onto the tailgate of his truck and took a couple of steps in their direction. "Is there a problem?"

  She didn't know which stung the most – Lennie's disgusting insinuations, or having Zach come to her aid.

  "No. There's no problem. Mr. Dawson was just leaving."

  Lennie's mouth tightened and his face flamed an angry red. Clearly he did not take kindly to being dismissed. He stared at Willa for a long time, his gaze flickering now and then to the other man. Though Zach's stance was deceptively casual and loose there was no doubt that he was braced for trouble.

  "Dammit, Willa—"

  "Goodbye, Lennie."

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. He swore and reached for the door handle again but hesitated when Zach moved closer.

  "All right, all right. I'm going." He twisted the key in the ignition and the truck roared to life. "You're obviously too emotional to discuss this rationally. When you've calmed down, think about what I said. You'll see that I'm right."

  "Don't hold your breath."

  Lennie stomped on the accelerator and the pickup fish-tailed as he spun it into a U-turn. Gunning the engine, he tore out of the ranch yard, his tires rudely kicking up dirt and gravel.

  Watching the truck shoot up the road at breakneck speed, Willa experienced an odd mixture of fury and disquiet. Lennie was a hothead. She and everyone else around Clear Water had witnessed his temper many times, but she had paid no more attention to his tantrums than she would a small child's. This time, though, she had seen something wild and dangerous simmering in his eyes, and that glimpse had sent an icy trickle down her spine. It galled her to admit it, but she was certain if Zach hadn't been there Lennie would not have let her order him off the ranch.

  "Was that guy giving you a hard time, or was that just a lovers' quarrel?"

  The question made her jump, and she was even more startled to realize that Zach now stood just behind her left shoulder. Willa was shorter than most men, but he seemed to tower over her, topping her five foot three inches by almost a foot. She was suddenly, uncomfortably aware of his broad shoulders and lean, muscular build, that raw masculinity that surrounded him like am aura, and her nerves began to jitter.

  She stepped away and gave him a cool look. "Neither. Lennie Dawson is a neighbor. His father owns the Bar-D, the ranch that borders us to the east. I've known him since I was six."

  "Mmm," Zach replied, watching the red pickup disappear over the crest of the bill. "Has he always had a bad temper?"

  Willa stiffened, and immediately her anger with Lennie transferred to Zach. "Look, I can handle Lennie. In the future just mind your own business."

  Zach shrugged. "Fine by me. I was just trying to help."

  "I don't need your help. I don't need anything from you." She spun away and stomped back to the barn.

  Watching her, Zach shook his head. That's where you're wrong, lady, he thought. You need me, all right. Like it or not, you need me and J.T. and Matt to hold on to this place.

  Everything about the woman radiated anger, from those snapping violet eyes to her rigid spine to the defiant set of her jaw. Though on the small side, she was beautifully proportioned, and her leggy stride ate up the ground. Today all that ebony hair was confined in one long braid as thick as his wrist, which bounced and swayed against her backside with each furious step.

  He could understand her anger – up to a point. She felt cheated and ill-used, and who could blame her? In her place, he'd feel the same. Seamus had strung her along with false promises, and after putting up with his foul temper and rigid control for most of her life, losing three-quarters of the Rocking R to strangers, never mind that they were the rightful heirs, had to have been a low blow. Discovering that without them she would have lost it all must have been even more galling.

  Hell, he couldn't blame her for resenting them. Seamus was the real villain in all this, but the old bastard was gone, and her fury needed a live target.

  Okay, he could live with that for a while. It wouldn't be easy, but he'd cut her some slack. At least until the raw hurt eased enough for her to gain a little perspective and look at the situation fairly.

  * * *

  Willa entered the barn muttering a litany of colorful epithets aimed at Zach, Lennie, Seamus and men in general. Sitting on a nail keg in the sunshine spilling in through the open double doors, Pete cast her a cautious glance, then wisely went back to stitching the saddlebag he was repairing.

  "How dare Lennie accuse Seamus of using me to further his own agenda," she snarled as she paced to the far end of the barn. "How dare he! Idiot. Jerk. Hopeless Neanderthal!"

  True, Seamus may not have loved her as his own flesh and blood, as she'd so desperately wanted, but he had accepted her as his stepdaughter and assumed responsibility for her, honoring that obligation even after her mother's death.

  Willa had been only fifteen at the time. Seamus could have shipped her off to live with distant relatives, but he had not been a man to shirk his duty.

  Still, the sad truth was, Seamus had been perfectly capable of scheming to make a match between her and Zach. Was that why he had made her a beneficiary in his last will? So propinquity could do its work? He'd clearly had no intention of leaving her any portion of the ranch until after his grandsons showed up.

  Seamus may have resented Zach and his brothers, but they had the Rafferty blood that had been so important to him and she had the experience and dedication and love for the Rocking R. If her stepfather had gotten it into his head that a marriage between her and Zach would benefit the ranch, he would have schemed and manipulated to make it happen.

  In all things, Seamus had always been so absolutely certain that his way was the right way that he would not have considered such a maneuver wrong. Or insulting to her. Willa snorted. He probably would've thought he was doing her a favor.

  "Well, if that was Seamus's plan, it's doomed to failure," she swore. "By heaven, I won't be anyone's brood mare.

  "Men!" she spat, earning another wary look from Pete.

  Though she'd paced the barn's cavernous length three times, fury still bubbled inside her. Finally she picked up a pitchfork and attacked the stalls, even though they had been mucked out only that morning.

  She worked steadily for a couple of hours, until her shoulders ached and the muscles in her arms quivered from the strain. After the stalls were clean and spread with fresh hay she filled the feed and water troughs in the corrals as well as those inside the barn. Occasionally, through the open doors, she glimpsed Zach and his brothers and the children retrieving things from their vehicles and toting them into the house.

  When Willa could find nothing else to do she fetched a can of neatsfoot oil and a soft chamois from the tack room and started applying the lubricant to her saddle.

  "I just oiled that saddle two days ago," Pete growled, never taking his gaze from his work. "It don't need it again." Pete had gotten too old to ride and he refused to retire, so Seamus had put him in charge of the tack room, and he guarded his domain with the fierceness of a stock dog with his herd.

  "It looked a little dry," Willa said defiantly, and continued to rub the leather.
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  Pete stood and hung the bridle on a nail. He crossed the barn to Willa's side, took oil and cloth from her and set them aside, then cupped her elbow with his gnarled hand. "C'mon, Willie," he said gently, steering her toward the door. "You can't avoid them folks forever, so you might as well go on inside. Maria's bound to have dinner ready by now. An' from the smells coming from the cookhouse, Cookie's got the men's grub ready, too."

  Willa sighed, knowing that Pete was right. "All right, I'm going. I'm going," she mumbled.

  Outside twilight had fallen. She murmured good-night to Pete and headed toward the house on leaden feet. She'd rather take a whipping than sit down to a meal with those people.

  The heavenly smell of fried chicken greeted her as she climbed the steps to the back porch, and despite the dread she felt, her stomach growled in anticipation. Opening the door, she stepped inside the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt.

  For the last eleven years she, Maria and Seamus had rattled around in the huge ranch house. Seamus had not been a talkative man, nor had he been tolerant of what he'd called "women's chatter" at the table. As a result, meals had been eaten mostly in silence, the three of them often exchanging not so much as a word. Now the chatter and bustle of six adults and five children filled the huge old kitchen.

  The children were setting the table and indulging in a bit of bickering and shoving as they darted and dodged around each other. J.T. and Matt sat on opposite sides of the long trestle table, drinking coffee and arguing quietly about something. The women carried on a conversation of their own while they helped Maria – Kate at the stove assisting with the cooking and Maude Ann washing the pots and pans and mixing bowls as quickly as the other women finished with them.

  Standing a little apart in the doorway that lead into the hall, one shoulder braced against the frame, Zach sipped a mug of coffee and took in the scene in silence, those sharp green eyes missing nothing, including her.

  The cacophony of laughter, voices and activity assaulted Willa's senses, making her nerves jump.

  "Hello, Willa. We wondered where you were," Maude Ann greeted when she spotted her.

  Kate's gaze flickered in her direction. She offered a cautious hello, and J.T. and Matt interrupted their discussion long enough to do the same. Sensing the adults's wariness and the sudden strain in the air, the children stopped what they were doing and stared at Willa with distrust. As though she was the one who didn't belong, Willa thought.

  Wiping her hands on a towel, Maude Ann turned from the sink with a tentative smile. "I was beginning to worry that you'd miss dinner, but you're just in time."

  "Watch out, Willa," Matt drawled. "Maudie's a mother hen. She'll tuck you under her wing with the rest of her chicks if you let her."

  "Don't be silly. I just didn't want her to go hungry, that's all," his wife said with a huff, but her eyes danced with affection and humor as she yanked a lock of his hair.

  "Ah, the biscuits, they are ready," Maria announced.

  "So is everything else," Kate said, carrying a steaming gravy boat and a bowl of salad to the table. "Everybody sit down while I dish up the rest."

  The children whooped and made a dash for the table, elbowing one another and jostling for position, but a firm order from Matt put an instant end to the unmannerly behavior.

  Kate noticed that Willa still stood rooted to the spot just inside the back door and motioned to the table. "Have a seat. You must be starved after working all day."

  Willa wanted to refuse, but she was so hungry she was shaky, and the aromas filling the kitchen were driving her crazy. She shifted from one foot to the other. "I, uh … I have to wash up first. Excuse me."

  She expected Zach to move out of the doorway, but he merely shifted a bit to one side to allow her to squeeze by, those cool eyes tracking her all the while.

  As Willa scooted past him, her shoulder brushed his chest and a tingle trickled down her spine. He had recently showered, and the smells of soap and shampoo and clean male enveloped her. The heady combination made her light-headed and self-consciously aware that after working in the barn all afternoon she smelled of horses, straw, neatsfoot oil and old leather. Gritting her teeth, she marched down the hall to the powder room.

  When she returned everyone was seated, and she took the only chair left, next to the angelic-looking little blond girl.

  Matt offered the blessing, and as the bowls and platters were being passed around the table, Willa felt a tug on her left sleeve. Startled, she looked down into a pair of wide, innocent blue eyes, fixed on her with unwavering directness.

  "You ith pretty," the child lisped.

  Disarmed, Willa blinked. "Uh … thank you."

  "My name ith Debbie, and I'm five. Whath yourth?"

  "Willa."

  "Wiwa. Thath a pretty name."

  "Uh … thanks."

  "Not Wiwa, you dumb girl," the African-American boy jeered, rolling his eyes. "She said Willa."

  "Tyrone, no name-calling," Maude Ann warned. "You know the rules."

  "But she talks like that dumb ole duck in the cartoons."

  Tears welled in Debbie eyes and her protruding lower lip trembled. "I ith not dumb. Am I, Daddy?" she appealed, turning her pathetic little face to Matt.

  "No, of course not, sweetheart." He gave the boy a stern look. "Apologize to your sister, Tyrone."

  "Aw, do I gotta?"

  "Yes. Now."

  The boy stared down at his plate, his jaw set in a mulish pout. "Sorry."

  Maude Ann sent Willa an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. But you know how children are."

  "No, actually I don't. I've never been around children."

  "Oh. I see." Willa's cool tone was not lost on Maude Ann, and for the first time her own voice had a guarded quality. "Well, we all have adjustments to make. And so you'll know who you're dealing with, let me introduce you to the rest of the children. This is Yolanda."

  Starting with the Hispanic girl, Maude Ann worked her way around the table. With the exception of twelve-year-old Yolanda, the Dolans's adopted brood were stair-step in age. In addition to Debbie and eight-year-old Tyrone, there was seven-year-old Jennifer, a quiet, plain child who seemed to be trying to make herself invisible, and a frail-looking six-year-old named Tim.

  Willa responded to each child with a cool hello that didn't encourage conversation and returned her attention to her meal as soon as the introductions were finished. They were well behaved, and she supposed they were appealing, but they didn't belong there, and she wasn't interested in getting to know them.

  "I know there are a lot of us, and this probably seems like a huge imposition to you, after living here so quietly with your stepfather all those years, but I assure you, the children won't be a problem," Maude Ann added when the introductions were over.

  Willa gave a little snort of disbelief and slanted her a look. "Actually, I'm surprised that you brought them here."

  Around the table everyone stopped talking and the clank and ping of silverware ceased. Willa could feel ten pairs of eyes fix on her, and in her peripheral vision she saw Maria shaking her head sadly.

  As though an iron rod had been rammed down her spine, Maude Ann sat up straighter. Her chin rose and the almost perpetual impish twinkle in her eyes turned to frost. "Really? And just what did you expect me to do with my children during the year we all must be here?"

  "Technically, you and the children and Kate don't have to be here at all. The conditions only apply to your husbands and Zach and me."

  "Now wait just a minute—" Matt began, but his wife held up her hand to stop him.

  "No. I'll handle this." She turned to Willa with an implacable expression. "Where my husband goes, I go, and so do our children. We're a family. If you don't like that, too bad."

  "The same goes for J.T. and me," Kate agreed. "You have a lot of nerve even suggesting that we shouldn't be here."

  "Look, all I'm saying is, this is a busy ranch. A lot of the work we do is dangerous and cattle and hors
es are unpredictable. It isn't the safest place to bring a bunch of children."

  "Oh, please," Maude Ann scoffed. "Children have grown up on ranches for hundreds of years."

  "That's right. You were raised here, weren't you?" Matt demanded.

  "Yes, but I was born on a nearby ranch. I wasn't a city kid when my mother and I came to the Rocking R." Willa shrugged. "Actually, you're all going to have a difficult time. There aren't any fancy stores or coffee-houses or restaurants or even a movie theater in Clear Water."

  "Don't worry about us. We'll manage," Maude Ann said. "What we don't know, we'll learn."

  Zach sat quietly, taking in the clash, but the other adults murmured agreement while the children stared at Willa as though she were a monster with two heads. All except Tyrone, who glared at her and bragged, "Yeah. I'm gonna learn to ride a horse and rope cows an' ever' thing."

  Willa shrugged. "Suit yourselves. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

  She picked up her fork, took a bite of mashed potatoes.

  For the remainder of the meal the others talked among themselves. The only one who spoke to Willa was Maria, and then only to give her a scolding in rapid-fire Spanish, which Willa knew she richly deserved.

  It had been a stupid thing to say. The instant the words had left her mouth she'd known that she had gone too far. But, darn it! She was feeling so prickly and on edge. Out-of-sorts and outnumbered.

  Zach said little, but the others, including the children, carried on a lively conversation.

  Willa's appetite had fled, and she spent most of the meal moving the food around on her plate. When the children were sent upstairs to brush their teeth and shower and get ready for bed, she scraped back her chair. "I'm going to turn in, too."

  She made it only as far as the front hall when Zach caught up with her.

  "Willa. I want to talk to you."

  "Not now. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." She put her hand on the newel post to start up the stairs, but Zach clamped his hand around her upper arm and spun her around to face him.

  "What do you think you're doing? Let go of me! I have nothing to say to you."

  "Good. Just keep your mouth shut and listen." He bent forward until his face was mere inches from hers. Willa's heart skipped a beat. Fury blazed in his normally cool green eyes. His face was a taut mask, his jaws so tight he spoke through his clenched teeth. "Listen to me, Willa Simmons. You can unleash your anger on me and Matt and J.T. all you want, but if you ever, ever again strike out at those kids or my sister or Maude Ann, or upset them in any way, you'll answer to me. Is that clear?"