Branded for You Page 3

  Instead of another ride, they went through the House of Horrors. She couldn’t help crying out the first time a creature jumped out and startled her, but then she found herself laughing with Ryan at the spook house’s corny special effects.

  Daylight waned and the carnival lights lit up the night. They headed away from the midway.

  “There’s a country western dance here at the fairgrounds tomorrow tonight,” Ryan said as they walked toward the parking lot. “I’d like to take you.”

  They came to a stop beside her Toyota and she looked up at him. He was handsome in a sexy, hardworking cowboy kind of way. She’d enjoyed spending the afternoon and part of the evening with him, enjoyed it a lot.

  She smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “Why don’t I pick you up at seven for dinner?” he said. “I’ll take you out for Mexican food and then the dance.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” she hurried to say. She wasn’t ready to introduce him to her family. “Which restaurant?”

  “Maria’s,” he said. “No better Mexican food in the southwest,” he said.

  She was glad he didn’t pressure her to let him pick her up. “I’ll be there at seven.”

  “All right,” he said with a smile. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

  She nodded. “I have some things to take care of before dinner.”

  His voice was softer as he stepped in closer. “I’d like to kiss you good night, Megan.”

  Her belly flip-flopped. The way he was looking at her made her feel as if she was one of the hottest, sexiest women on earth.

  She met his gaze, her breath coming faster and her throat suddenly dry. “I’d like that,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head, his mouth hovering over hers for a moment. Her heart rate picked up as he brushed his lips over hers. He pressed his mouth against hers and kissed her.

  It was a slow, sensual kiss as his mouth moved over hers. When he drew away she wanted to grab him by the collar and yank him back toward her for a much longer kiss.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “What’s your phone number?”

  “I don’t have any paper,” she said.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’ll remember it.”

  She had a hard time speaking but managed to stammer out her cell phone number.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said.

  She nodded, having a hard time coming up with anything to say.

  He waited until she was safely in her car and had started the vehicle before he walked away into the night.

  Chapter 4

  Megan shut the front door behind her with a solid thump as she entered her parents’ home. She set down the stuffed gorilla that Ryan had won for her at the fair and smiled as she stroked its fur. What a fun day she’d had with the tall, dark, and handsome cowboy.

  And he’d asked her out for tomorrow night. A sense of giddiness and excitement made her steps light as she turned and walked in the direction of the kitchen. It wasn’t quite nine yet and she wondered if her parents were still up. Megan had considered changing her name back to Dyson from her married name, Wilder, but hadn’t made the decision yet. She wanted to talk to her parents about it.

  She heard her father’s angry voice coming from the kitchen. “Got another notice in the mail.”

  Megan frowned as she entered and saw both her parents looking upset.

  Her mother, Margaret Dyson, was a tall, slender, striking woman who often reminded Megan of a TV mother from the fifties who always wore blouses, skirts, and heels. At least she didn’t wear pearls, too.

  Margaret carried a chocolate Bundt cake to the table. The kitchen smelled of warm cake that made Megan’s mouth water.

  “Wasn’t his coming by the restaurant today enough?” Margaret was saying. “What does the notice say?”

  Paul Dyson, a balding man, stared at the folded paper he was holding and adjusted his glasses. “It says exactly what he told us. If we don’t make the payment by the next week, he’s going to start foreclosure proceedings.”

  Margaret’s lips tightened as she set the cake on the table. “It’s not right. Not right at all.”

  “Foreclosure?” Megan said with surprise. “Is everything all right?”

  Margaret glanced at the kitchen doorway and saw Megan. “Have some cake, Megan.”

  “I ate at the fair,” Megan said.

  “You should watch what you eat, anyway.” Margaret looked disapprovingly at Megan. “You’ll never catch and keep a decent man if you don’t slim down. That Bart Wilder was not a decent man.”

  The back of Megan’s neck burned. Her mother’s remarks had always hurt, but it was the way she’d been as long as Megan could remember. Her father could be just as cutting in his own way, so it hadn’t been easy growing up in the Dyson household. She was looking forward to moving back out on her own

  “Margaret, it’s too soon after her divorce for Megan to be looking for a man.” Paul glanced at Megan. “God is not pleased when a man and woman are married before Him and they so lightly tear apart the sanctity of the union.”

  Even though she wanted to defend herself, Megan chose to ignore the remarks, pulled a chair up to the table, and sat near her father. “What’s going on?”

  Margaret set out two plates and forks on the table as Paul clenched the letter tighter. “A balloon payment is past due on the house,” he said. “The owner won’t work with us and we don’t have the cash. Everything we have is sunk into the restaurant.”

  Megan’s jaw dropped. “You could lose the house?”

  “Yes,” Margaret said as she started slicing into the cake.

  Paul’s skin had taken on a ruddy hue and he rubbed his chest, appearing agitated. “We’ve asked the owner to work with us but he’s refused and is insisting on the whole amount.”

  Megan squeezed her hand shut on the tabletop. “How much is it?”

  Paul’s expression turned pained. “Twenty-five thousand,” he said and Megan sucked in her breath.

  “Everything that we didn’t put into the restaurant we lost in the stock market,” Margaret said. “We have nothing but the restaurant now and it’s not bringing in enough.”

  Megan let out her breath. “I wish I had the money to help. With the economy being so bad I used up most of my savings over the past couple of years. What I had left is pretty much gone after the move here.”

  “Everything would have been perfectly fine if that Roger Meyer hadn’t spread rumors about the restaurant and if some reporter hadn’t written such a bad review. A false review. And then someone called the Health Department on us. Probably Meyer, too.” Margaret moved a plate of cake in front of Paul and took one for herself, her words tight and angry. “First Meyer sets out to ruin us and now this.”

  Megan frowned. “Someone spread rumors?”

  “He certainly did,” Margaret said. “Mrs. Webb, Jenny’s caregiver, overheard him one day, so we know it’s true.” Margaret’s face was pinched as she went to the fridge and took out a carton of milk. She carried it to the table. “Some of what was said is that we’ve had roach problems which we have not. Among other things, someone reported that our hired help isn’t legally in the U.S., which is also untrue. We think Meyer did that, too.”

  Paul’s features turned darker. “After the rumors and the scathing review, business dropped off and never recovered.”

  Anger rose within Megan. “Who is this Roger Meyer?”

  Margaret took two glasses out of the cabinet and poured a glass of milk for herself and one for Paul, then sat in the chair. “He owns a competing restaurant next door to ours. He leases that building from Mr. Cowell and wanted to lease our building, too, so that he could expand his place.” She stabbed at her slice of cake. “He thought he had a deal worked out but we outbid him. He was angry. Met him one day and he said we would never make it and it would be a sorry day that we ever bought it.”

  Megan looked from her father to her mother and back. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  “We’d hoped it wouldn’t be an issue.” Paul tossed the notice on the table and speared his cake with his fork as if driving it into an enemy. “If the owner gave us more time or let us work out some kind of payment plan, we might be able to make it. We put up seventy-five grand when we bought the place.”

  “He’s going to keep our down payment and take everything away.” Margaret’s tone was bitter.

  “What are you going to do?” Megan clenched her hands.

  Paul swallowed a bite of cake and chased it down with milk before he spoke. “We’ll give talking to him another try. If that doesn’t work…I don’t know what we’ll do.”

  That the Hummingbird Café wasn’t doing well was a shock to Megan. Her parents’ restaurant was a family-style place, much like one they’d had in New Mexico before they’d moved to Prescott a year ago. Their restaurant in Albuquerque had been popular, successful, and profitable. Her mother’s peach pie alone sold like crazy, not to mention her country potpies.

  Megan spent a little more time with her parents as they told her about the reporter trashing the service as well as the food. The Health Department had come out and found nothing out of order, but damage was done by more rumors that were spread.

  Also, on an Internet restaurant recommendation and review site, one negative review after another had been posted within a short timeframe. They were certain they were false reviews that had to be connected to Roger Meyer.

  Her father changed the subject. “Why are you in so late tonight?”

  “It’s not that late.” She glanced at the clock and saw that it was closing in on eleven, later than she’d thought it was. “Besides, we’ve been talking for a while.”

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nbsp; “I found a home for you to buy,” Paul said in his I’ve-decided-so-this-is-how-it’s-going-to-be tone. “It’s in this neighborhood. We can go look at it tomorrow.”

  “I’m not sure where I want to live yet,” Megan said calmly. But she knew it wasn’t going to be this close to her parents. She loved them, but she needed her space.

  Paul finished his cake and wiped his hands on a napkin. “I know what’s best, Megan. We’ve been here longer than you and I’ve already checked out all of the good neighborhoods. This is one you can afford and you’ll be close to your mother.”

  Megan swallowed down the words she wanted to say. She stayed calm. “Dad, I’m thirty-two years old. I can handle it on my own.”

  Paul snorted.

  Megan felt her face warm. “Time for me to get to bed.” She said goodnight to her parents and retreated to the guest room.

  “Why am I doing this?” she said to herself when she closed the door behind her. “Why did I come to Prescott? I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

  Megan fumed for a bit and then went to bed. Her thoughts bounced from her parents’ financial difficulties to the way her father still tried to dominate her life to her evening with Ryan.

  It didn’t do her any good to worry over the restaurant and house tonight, so she settled on thinking about Ryan and the time they’d spent together.

  Her lips tingled as she remembered his kiss and she brought her fingers to them. His kiss had been just enough to make her want more, yet she’d only met him today. With his long legs and taut muscular body, he was one tall, sexy cowboy.

  She thought about the way his denim blue eyes had watched her all afternoon and the sensual curve of his smile. He’d made her feel sexy and beautiful in a way no man had ever made her feel before.

  Thoughts of her ex-husband intruded, darkening everything. He’d taught her that a man wasn’t always what he appeared to be on the surface. He’d made it clear she wasn’t desirable to him any longer and it had made her wonder if she could be desirable to any man.

  She frowned at her turn of thoughts. Bart Wilder had hurt her in ways no one ever had before. She wasn’t going to let him take away the happiness she’d experienced today and the possibility that a man could find her attractive just the way she was.

  A car passed by and light chased shadows on her walls. For too long she’d let Bart control her life and joy. That wasn’t going to happen anymore.

  She let her thoughts drift back to Ryan. She remembered his boyish grin when he’d won the gorilla and had presented her with it. Was she fooling herself by being so certain that Ryan was exactly who he said he was? She was sure he wasn’t pretending to be someone he wasn’t. She’d seen it in the way he’d interacted with children and adults alike, and by how popular he clearly was.

  He seemed genuine and down to earth and a real man’s man. He’d be tough when he needed to be or gentle when the situation called for it.

  Was it possible he was thinking of her now, just as she was thinking about him?

  She closed her eyes and gradually drifted off to sleep, dreaming of cowboys, gorillas, and banana peels.

  Chapter 5

  The sun was rising as Ryan went about his morning chores. The morning was clear, the sky a crystal blue, the cool air still.

  He whistled to Ossie, his Australian shepherd, as he thought about the sexy brunette he’d spent the afternoon with yesterday. She had wide glass-green eyes framed with dark lashes and a smile that made something twist deep in his gut. He loved how her cute ass looked in her jeans. He wanted to run his hands along every one of her curves and to feel her warm, soft body against his.

  She had a beautiful smile and a glow about her that told him she enjoyed life. Yet there was the hint of sadness in her eyes that made him want to protect her, to take whatever pain she’d felt and make it vanish with the wind. The thought that anyone could have hurt her made him grit his teeth. He barely knew Megan, but he’d be happy to knock the shit out of any man who tried to hurt her. Or who had already hurt her.

  Ryan shook his head. Damn but he had it bad for the woman. Real bad.

  Ossie answered his whistle, bolting toward him, coming from the direction of the corral.

  He rubbed behind the dog’s ears as she looked up at him with her clear blue eyes. She was a blue merle with a mottled black, white, and gray coat.

  Ryan patted her head before straightening. “What have you been up to?”

  Ossie stepped back and gave a single bark in answer.

  “Ah, you’ve been up to no good.” Ryan clicked his tongue. “Come on, girl. We have work to do.”

  She moved to his right, a step behind him. Ryan headed for the barn where one of his two part-time ranch hands was mucking out a stall. The young man usually smiled and hummed as he worked, but today he was quiet, his expression serious.

  Ryan pushed up the brim of his Stetson as he came up beside Bill. “How’s your mama? Is she out of the hospital yet?”

  The usually upbeat young man faced Ryan and leaned on his shovel. “She’s out of the hospital but she’s not doing so good.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The doctor said Mama’s got cancer and she doesn’t have any insurance. I’m trying to get enough money together to help her buy groceries and pay her bills since she hasn’t been able to work.”

  “Damn.” Ryan felt like he’d taken a kick to his gut as he rested his hand on Bill’s shoulder. He’d known Mary Jane Dow from the time they were kids. She’d gotten pregnant with Bill not long after they graduated from high school, some eighteen years ago, and had raised the boy on her own. “How much does she need?”

  Bill took off his green John Deere cap, his blond hair damp from perspiration. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’ve got part of it, but I need to make at least another thousand. I just don’t know how I’m going to get everything she needs.” He glanced at the ground then looked at Ryan again. “I need a second job to keep up with the bills.”

  Ryan nodded. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone needs an extra hand.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Bill’s expression showed some relief. “I appreciate that.”

  The young man put his ball cap back on and turned back to work. Ryan headed to his home with Ossie at his side.

  His boots thumped on the wood floor as he walked in the front door. Ossie’s toenails clicked on the floor as she headed to the kitchen for a drink.

  Ryan went through the house to the office just down the hall from the living room. He sat behind his scarred old desk that had been his granddaddy’s, reached into one of the drawers, and drew out his checkbook. He picked up a pen and wrote out a check before he folded it and slid it into his shirt pocket.

  When he finished, he pulled his cell phone from the leather holster on his belt and called his sister-in-law, Danica. She and Creed had married a year ago and he enjoyed her company. Hell, all of his brothers loved Danica.

  “Hi, Ryan,” she answered, obviously having seen his name come up on her phone’s display. “How’s it going?”

  “Good.” He liked the sound of Danica’s voice. She always sounded upbeat and in a positive mood. “Are you still looking for a little help around the place?” he asked.

  “We could use another hand when Creed’s on the road,” Danica said. “And if he’s good we might keep him on indefinitely. Do you have someone in mind?”

  “Bill Dow is my part-timer and his mama has cancer,” Ryan said. “I’m not sure you’ve had a chance to meet Mary Jane yet, but Bill needs to make extra cash to help her out. He’s a hard worker and a good kid.”

  “I haven’t met Mary Jane and I’m sorry to hear she’s ill.” Danica sounded concerned. “Go ahead and send Bill my way. Creed isn’t going to be around a whole lot these next few months, so I’m sure I can put Bill to work.”

  “You’ve got it,” Ryan said. “Thank you for giving him the opportunity.”

  “No problem.” He heard the smile in her voice. “No doubt I’ll be thanking you for referring him.”

  Ryan said goodbye and disconnected the call. He wrote Danica’s cell phone number on a scrap of paper. He whistled to Ossie who came right to him before they headed out the door.

  When Ryan returned to the barn, Bill was brushing down one of the horses. Ryan drew the check out of his shirt pocket and handed it to the young man.