Behind Closed Doors Read online

  Much as Nathan loved his parents—good, salt-of-the-earth, hardworking people—he hadn’t seen the faith in their eyes that he had in Woody’s. Now, at the wiser age of thirty-four, Nathan understood they’d had reason to be skeptical. But that took nothing away from Woody’s unwavering support.

  “He might wanna start right away,” Woody said. “Unless you have a problem with that.”

  “Nope.” Nathan used his sleeve to blot the sweat on his forehead, then readjusted his Stetson. October mornings and evenings were nice and cool, but the direct afternoon sun could still be sweltering some days.

  “You expecting company?” Woody stared past him toward the driveway.

  Only if hell had frozen over. Nathan turned and saw the small blue pickup. It was too far away to see who was driving, though it didn’t matter. He hadn’t invited anyone, and folks who knew him knew better than to show up without being asked.

  A minute later he saw a woman behind the wheel wearing sunglasses, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She parked the truck close to the bunkhouse where the men kept their vehicles, then climbed out. Her legs were long, her jeans tight and she was wearing funny-looking boots.

  “You know her?” Woody asked, squinting against the sun’s glare.

  Nathan shook his head, not that Woody noticed. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman. Working in front of the east barn, Scotty and Justin stopped fueling the ATVs to watch her walk across the gravel. Even Big John pulled his head out from under the hood of the bale retriever. If that wasn’t enough of a shock, since the guy had no use for women since his divorce, he grinned at her.

  “Did you see that?” Woody muttered, brushing the dust off his shoulders when she veered toward them.

  She wasn’t dressed to call attention to herself, not in that oversize blue T-shirt, but she got it all the same. It was those legs. Damn, they were long. She had to be about five-nine, even without those silly boots. And she had just enough sway in her hips to fire up a man’s pulse without letting him think he was being played. But a woman who looked like her? Who was used to men staring and not being bothered by it? Nathan had a feeling she knew what she was doing. Woody thought Nathan was cynical when it came to women, implied he was getting to be as bad as Big John. Nathan just hadn’t forgotten how complicated they were.

  “Hi,” she said as she got closer, putting her hand out and smiling at Woody. “Mr. Landers? I’m Bethany Wilson.”

  “No, ma’am, I’m Woodrow Knudsen.” He yanked off his hat. “You can call me Woody, same as everyone else.”

  Nathan folded his arms across his chest, though she hadn’t even glanced at him. He’d finally realized who she was, right before she’d given her name.

  Her smile stayed in place, and so did her extended hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Woody.”

  He dragged his palms down the front of his grungy Levis. “Ma’am, I’m awfully grimy.”

  “So am I.” She pushed her sunglasses up on her head and inspected the dark smudges on her hand. “How rude of me not to have checked first. I’m sorry,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s stain from yesterday, so it wouldn’t have rubbed off on you. It doesn’t seem to want to come off at all.”

  “Paint thinner ought to do the trick,” Woody said, grinning so hard you could see where his back teeth were missing. He noticed Nathan watching him and sobered, clearing his throat. “This here is Nathan Landers.”

  “Oh.” She turned to him and blinked, surprise flickering in her face. Her gaze went to his mouth and jaw, then slid up to his eyes. “I didn’t—” She smiled again. “Mr. Landers, I’m Beth—”

  “I heard you the first time.” He kept his arms folded. “What is it that you want, Ms. Wilson?”

  Her eyes narrowed, assessing him, her poise unshaken. “I left you two voice mails. I have the feeling you got them.”

  “I did.”

  “And had you wanted to talk to me, you would’ve returned my calls,” she said very matter-of-factly.

  “Sounds about right.”

  “What calls?” Woody asked, looking confused and peeved. “I thought you didn’t know her.”

  He wasn’t up to dealing with Woody’s disapproval just because she was a woman. She hadn’t been invited, period. “Go hire the kid,” Nathan said, jerking his head toward the corral. “Let him start when he wants and pay him for today.”

  When Woody didn’t move, Nathan frowned at him.

  “First off,” Woody said, jamming his hat back on his head. “I reckon I know how to handle a new hire. And second, I ain’t gonna interrupt him in the middle of breaking that mare.”

  Beth had turned her gaze to the corral. It wasn’t just her legs that had drawn his interest...she had pretty eyes, he’d give her that, too. They were kind of green with flecks of gold and brown. When she cringed and put a hand to her throat, he turned to see what had caused her alarm.

  Brian had taken another trip over the mare’s head and landed on his ass in the dirt. The kid cussed like a veteran. Woody chuckled and even Nathan smiled a little.

  “Wow,” Beth said. “Is this how you interview people? Good way to get free labor.”

  “What’s that?” Woody obviously didn’t understand her jab, but Nathan did, and he sure didn’t appreciate it.

  “Well, Ms. Wilson,” he said, tugging down the rim of his Stetson to block the sun. “I’m sorry you made the drive out here for nothing. You should’ve taken the radio silence as a clue.”

  She stared at him, her lips parting. “Wait. Can’t we talk about it?”

  Nathan had started to turn for the house but stayed right where he was, his gaze lingering on her mouth. The shape and lushness of her lips went straight to the plus column, right under eyes and legs. A stiff breeze stirred stray wisps of fine blond hair around her flushed face and molded the T-shirt to her breasts. They weren’t small. The damn plus column was getting too crowded.

  “Talk about what?” Woody looked back and forth between them. “Hells bells, Nathan, do you know what this is about?”

  “The lumber we had delivered this morning. Ms. Wilson seems to think there’s a mix-up.”

  “Not exactly. Jorgenson gave you my shipment and he’s making me wait for the next one. I know you’ve been a customer forever and I’m new to Blackfoot Falls, but it was wrong. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m not implying it’s your fault. Or your problem.” She stopped for a quick breath. “I’ve had trouble getting workers, but I finally have two guys coming to my place tomorrow morning. But without the lumber...” She shrugged, her gaze flickering to Woody, then back to Nathan. “If you don’t need it right now, or if there’s any way you can wait until Friday...”

  Her voice faded along with the hope in her eyes.

  “Well, shoot, Jorgenson had no call to do something like that to such a pretty thing,” Woody said, and boy, did she not like that comment.

  Her shoulders went back, her lips thinned. Then she must’ve realized the old guy hadn’t meant anything and she gave him a small smile. “It’s bad business. And please, believe me, I know it’s not your problem. I do. If you can’t spare the lumber I’ll get back in my truck and leave. You won’t hear from me again.”

  They didn’t need the order for a couple of months. Nathan knew it and so did Woody, who was glaring at him. And for no reason. No, he didn’t like her showing up because he hadn’t returned her calls. But he didn’t like that Jorgenson had screwed her either.

  And Nathan sure as hell didn’t like watching her nibble that tempting lower lip and stare back at him. He didn’t have time for this crap. He had business in the stables. “Go ahead, Woody, do whatever you think is best.”

  “That’s for you to decide, Nathan,” Woody said in an ornery tone. “I got a new man to hire.” He found another grin for Beth and even puffed out his chest some. “He’ll do right by you, ma’am.” He stopped midturn. “By the way,” he added, his gruff voice gentled. “What you saw wasn’t free labor. It was a test. Natha
n won’t hire a man who goes for a whip. Nice meeting you.”

  “Woody—”

  Ignoring him, Woody hustled to the other side of the corral, his old bowlegs moving faster than Nathan would have thought possible.

  He looked at Beth. Embarrassment stained her cheeks, making her eyes greener. She was still worrying that damn bottom lip.

  “I’m so sorry. I was joking about the free labor. It wasn’t funny,” she murmured.

  “Take the lumber.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and caught his hand when all he’d meant to do was wave her toward the barn. She pressed her soft palm to his work-roughened one and shook. “Thank you so much.”

  She had some grip. He flexed his hand, trying to get her to let go. Touching her was a mistake. Man, did he not need this. Something was different about this woman. And deep down he knew...hell, he’d known even before he’d seen those long legs and sexy eyes that she was going to be trouble. The alarm bells had gone off the moment he’d heard her sweet, husky voice on his voice mail.

  For three years he’d been fine, a certain part of his life had become manageable. And now she was making him think about sex. It wasn’t just a small tug either. She’d cursed him with one of those itches that couldn’t be taken care of in the shower. Right now what he wanted was down-and-dirty, hot, sweaty, honest-to-goodness, sheet-tangling sex.

  That was why he needed her gone.

  The sooner, the better.

  2

  “HEY, BETH.”

  She heard the familiar voice coming from behind. It was Craig, a guy she’d met at the Watering Hole, walking from the barn toward her. “Hey, yourself.”

  “What are you doing out here, darlin’?” He flashed her that boyish grin he used on every woman who entered the bar. “Looking for me?”

  Beth laughed. “You caught me,” she said, throwing in a coy smile. “Now, what was your name again?”

  “Ouch.” He was a couple years younger than her and liked laying on the cowboy charm, but he was harmless and knew how to take no for an answer. He slid his hat off when he reached her and wiped his smudged face with the red bandanna tied around his neck, his grin widening. “That’s okay, darlin’. You know I like my women sassy.”

  “And I like my hired men working when they’re on the clock,” Nathan said, and how she could have forgotten he was there, even for a second, was ridiculous.

  Craig didn’t seem overly concerned with the gruff remark. “Wait till you hear that engine, boss. I got the tractor purring like a kitten.”

  Beth had turned to Nathan. She didn’t think he was really upset, but he was doing her a huge favor and she couldn’t afford to aggravate him. She found him watching her, his whiskey-brown eyes taking inventory of her face and throat, and she felt that annoying flutter in her chest again.

  He switched his attention to Craig, who’d asked him a question about the tractor, and this was the first chance Beth had to really look without fear of being caught staring. No ifs, ands or buts, she was going to kill Rachel. It didn’t matter that Rachel was engaged. She still had a duty to warn a person about to meet a hottie like Nathan Landers for the first time. For heaven’s sake, a simple heads-up was an unspoken rule that every woman understood.

  The man was well over six feet of lean muscle with broad shoulders and a strong jaw shadowed by a day’s worth of sexy dark stubble. His nearly black hair seemed to be cut in a traditional style, though he hadn’t removed his hat so she didn’t know for sure. And yes, she might’ve preferred it a bit longer but...

  His gaze shifted back to her, those dreamy light brown eyes catching her off guard. “Where do you live?”

  “Me?” She went blank for a moment. “Why?” she asked, noting the lazy, sensual curve to his mouth even when he wasn’t smiling.

  “Just wondering how you plan on moving that lumber.”

  “Oh. My truck.”

  He lifted the brim of his hat and frowned at her pickup. “That?”

  She nodded. “Two trips ought to do it. I’m only going to Blackfoot Falls...to the old boardinghouse.”

  “You bought the place?”

  “Yes,” she said, sighing. “I’m turning it into an inn. Nothing elaborate, only a dozen rooms. I’m trying to keep the early-1900s feel to the place.” She glanced toward the large single-level home with its beautiful stonework and arched entry. “The whole inn could probably fit in your house. It’s amazing, by the way. I love all the details. Did you build it yourself?”

  Their gazes met, the sudden distrust in his eyes taking her by surprise. He said nothing, his expression growing more aloof as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

  So much for pleasantries. Fine. She was tired and already not looking forward to making a second trip. “Tell me where the lumber is and I’ll move my truck.”

  “Inside the east barn,” Nathan said absently, his attention on his phone as though he’d already dismissed her.

  Miffed with his rudeness and trying not to react, she turned and saw several rust-colored buildings. The closest one was obviously a barn, and she guessed that the large, freshly painted structure behind it near the trees might be the stables. Everything, from the house with its wide circular drive to the dozen or so outbuildings, was in prime shape.

  She cast another longing look at the lovely home with the oversize windows and rose beds.

  It finally hit her.

  How could she have been so insensitive? That home had to have been built for his late wife. Beth doubted he kept the gardens tended for his own enjoyment. Even the small charming courtyard between the wrought iron gate and the front door was well maintained.

  “I know where the lumber is,” Craig said, startling her because she thought he’d left. “I’ll show you where to park, then go grab Troy. We’ll have you loaded in no time.”

  “No.” Beth shook her head. “Just point me in the right direction. I can handle the rest.”

  Craig snorted. “You can’t load by yourself.”

  “You’d be surprised at what I can do.” She smiled at his raised brows, leaving out that she’d bring Liberty on the second trip. “You’re nice to offer, but I’m sure you have your own work to do. Where do I go?”

  She didn’t know if Nathan was still behind her or not, but that was where Craig’s gaze went. With obvious reluctance, he motioned toward the building she’d pegged as the stable.

  “Thanks,” she said, and glanced over her shoulder. “And thank you, Mr. Landers. You’ve really saved my butt. Next time you’re in town I owe you a beer.”

  His stunned expression was priceless. Though she hadn’t meant to shock him. Or for him to actually look at said rear end. In fact, the beer offer had just slipped out. She’d only meant to impress on him that she was truly grateful.

  She hurried toward her truck, ignoring the stares of the men working on an ATV engine, then briefly exchanged a smile with a dusty cowboy riding a chestnut past her. By the time she got behind the wheel, she was a little shaky from too much sun, adrenaline, or maybe too much Nathan Landers. Bad time to remember she hadn’t replenished the water she normally kept in the pickup. At least she’d brought her work gloves.

  Throwing the truck into Reverse, she started to back up, cringing when she ground the gears. This was the first manual shift she’d ever owned, but after three months she usually did pretty well. Of course she’d have to drive like a moron now, with a dozen men watching her. Nathan was probably having a chuckle. Though no reason for her to give a crap.

  She still wished she hadn’t mentioned the house, since it had seemed to upset him—but she had a feeling he was generally a grouch. A damn good-looking one. She darted a look in the rearview mirror.

  He hadn’t moved. Except he’d put away his phone and was focused completely on her. Arms crossed, of course, feet planted wide, an amused look on his handsome face. Well, wasn’t she just tickled pink that she could provide him with a little afternoon entertainment.

  She forced her
self to concentrate on the gearshift and slipped into Drive. She wondered how much he was still grieving. According to Rachel, since his wife died he’d been sticking close to home. No mention had been made of what caused her death, though Beth doubted that mattered to a person in mourning. She’d never lost anyone close to her.

  That wasn’t entirely true. She’d suffered loss. Her mother wasn’t dead, not as far as Beth knew, but for as long as Beth could remember, Paula Wilson had repeatedly disappeared into bottles of booze and the bed of any strange man who’d promised to take care of her.

  Beth’s older sister had followed a similar path, including getting pregnant at sixteen. Giving birth to beautiful baby Liberty hadn’t been enough to straighten out Candace. Most nights she’d left the little girl with Beth. But when the toddler had started calling Beth “Mama,” quick as a wink, Candace had latched on to no-good Lenny Ramsey, packed up Liberty and torn away the only person Beth had truly cared about.

  And Beth’s father? She’d never known him. Like any child she’d been curious about him at one point. But eventually she’d reasoned that if Paula had been attracted to him, and vice versa, he had to be a loser, so why bother searching? She honestly didn’t even think about him. All that mattered to her now was reestablishing a bond with Liberty. And Candace, too, though her sister didn’t seem anxious to let go of her bad habits.

  Beth spotted the three stacks of lumber just inside the barn and sighed. The order wasn’t nearly enough for what she needed for the whole renovation, but more than she cared to load by herself. No complaints, though. If the workers showed up tomorrow, this would all be worth it.

  After reversing the truck close to the lumber, she pulled on her bulky work gloves and got out. As she lowered the tailgate, she caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned to see Craig and another guy jogging toward her. Beyond them she could see Nathan Landers still rooted to the spot, facing them.

  “We’ve got it, Beth,” Craig said, lifting his hat and sweeping his long, dark blond hair off his forehead. “Why don’t you wait over there on the chair by the fridge?” He motioned with his chin. “Get yourself something cold to drink.”