Wrangled and Tangled Page 3

  of her obvious lack of people management skills. But she soon realized Renner was swamped doing ten billion other things, including running his stock contracting business, so he turned the accounting over to her entirely.

  It’d almost been too easy to slip into the role of ball-busting bottom-line financier. But it gave her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: she’d recreate herself. Shake off the remnants of boring, brainy, geeky, reserved Tierney Pratt and find out who she really was when she wasn’t her father’s yes woman. Find a new direction for her life. Because the truth was, most of the time for the past two years, she’d felt more than a little lost.

  “. . . plans for Thanksgiving.”

  Tierney grabbed the aspirin bottle on her desk—guaranteed she’d have a headache after this conversation—shaking out two pills and knocking them back with a swallow of coffee. “I’m staying at the Split Rock, since we have a full booking that week. What are your plans?”

  “Since Europeans don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, it’s the perfect time to go to Barcelona to check out a property that’s nearly bankrupt.”

  No surprise her father had figured out a way to operate during the holiday. Official holidays had always been just another day to him, or worse, an inconvenience that interrupted his work. “Are they searching for a buyer?”

  “No. But when has that ever stopped me?”

  A short bark of laughter escaped. “You are unstoppable when you get your mind set on something and you don’t see anything except the bottom line.”

  The phone line iced over with stony silence. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  Crap. Rewind. The last thing she needed was to antagonize him so he hauled ass here and messed everything up. “Nothing. Only that I hope you allow free time to enjoy yourself. I’ve always wanted to go to Barcelona.”

  “I’ll take you with me if you come back to Chicago where you belong.”

  She retorted sweetly, “Maybe you should take your newly promoted right-hand man, Steven the wonder boy, to Barcelona.”

  Petulant much, Tierney?

  A weary sigh. “When will you stop this nonsense?”

  So he thought it was nonsense that he’d passed her over for promotion again? “I’ll stop when you understand that calling my career nonsense only strengthens my determination not to come back to work for you. Ever.” So much for not antagonizing him. But she felt . . . freer for saying it.

  “Sometimes I do not understand you at all.” Another impatient paternal sigh. “Very well. Have your little adventure. You’ll tire of it soon enough. I’ll touch base with you in a few weeks and we’ll see if you’ve come to your senses.”

  Tierney said, “Nice talking to you too, Dad,” to dead air. She tossed the phone on a pile of books.

  Distracted, she stared out the bay window beside her desk. No snow had fallen yet, but heavy gray storm clouds hung in the distance. Before moving to Wyoming she’d never noticed how the time of year affected the color of the sky and the shape of the clouds. After spending hours gazing in wonder at the wide-open space where rugged, unforgiving land met endless horizon, she could discern some differences in impending weather. But it’d take a lifetime to catch the nuances. That prospect appealed to her more than she’d ever imagined.

  Bang bang bang pulled her out of her musings.

  Only one person knocked with that much authority. And arrogance. Mr. Tenacious would keep banging until she answered.

  She took her time crossing the room. Wouldn’t want him to think she jumped when he beckoned. She peeked out the blinds to find those vivid blue eyes peering back at her. Eyes the same beautiful hue as the Wyoming sky on a hot summer day.

  “Dammit, Tierney, let me in.”

  Sighing, she flipped the locks.

  Renner rushed over the threshold. “We need to talk.”

  “How about in the office tomorrow morning?”

  He stopped wiping his boots on her rug, peeking at her from beneath the brim of his black cowboy hat. “Why not now?”

  “Because it’s my day off.”

  “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but there are no days off in the ranch business.”

  “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but this isn’t a working ranch—I’ve yet to see a single cow. And last night you put me in my place as far as the horses are concerned. Since we won’t have guests checking in until tomorrow, I’d like one day this week without a confrontation with you.”

  “You threw the drink in my face, remember?”

  “You deserved it, remember?”

  A scowl twisted his full lips. “Believe it or not, I don’t get off on fightin’ with you.”

  She resisted the urge to retort, Coulda fooled me.

  “You gonna move and let me off your rug, or what?”

  Say no. “Fine.” Tierney headed for the kitchen, where they’d have to stand, to keep this talk short. “What’s on your mind?”

  “It occurred to me when I saw you at the store today that we didn’t discuss your role in helping out at the Split Rock until Harper gets back from her honeymoon.”

  “Helping out how?”

  “Hands-on help with the guests and employees instead of hiding in the office.”

  Her cheeks heated. “I don’t hide. There’s actual work done in my half of the office.” Sort of. For the first time in her working life, she had little to do and all sorts of time to kill. She stretched out her accounting duties, but they still took less than half of her workday. In the last month, she learned to look busy, disguising her online chess games and closing her e-books whenever he blew into the room like an angry bull.

  “We’re shorthanded on opening week, so I’ll need you acting as Split Rock hostess for the guests.”

  “No.”

  He cocked his head like he’d misunderstood. “Come again?”

  “I said no. Now, was that all?”

  It pissed her off that Renner stalked her until her back hit the edge of the counter. It really pissed her off she allowed him to force her retreat.

  “What? Think you’re too good to mingle with the common folk?”

  No. I’m too awkward. I’ll embarrass the resort and myself with my obvious lack of social graces.

  Not that she could tell him that because the shrewd man would lord her insecurity over her forever.

  At her nonresponse, he goaded her. “Don’t want to get your manicured hands dirty? You feel it’s beneath your lofty position as financial whip cracker?”

  Rather than lashing out, Tierney said, “You really have me pegged. I’m a stuck-up bitch who has no place in the hospitality business. I can’t imagine why you’d want a snob like me hanging around making our guests feel uncomfortable, so I’ll pass on your charming request. Now please leave my house.”

  “Like hell.”

  The man remained as solid as a stone wall in front of her, but he sure threw off a lot of heat. Tierney kept her face aimed at the floor, her arms folded over her chest. Her posture screamed “back off,” but apparently Renner was deaf because he kept trying to provoke her.

  “Is this some new tactic?” he demanded. “Insulting yourself, then giving me the silent treatment? Hoping I’ll get confused and fed up and go away? Guess what, it won’t work.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  He laughed abrasively. “You don’t give an inch, do you?”

  “Not usually.”

  Another laugh. Softer. “I don’t like talkin’ to your hair. Can you look at me?”

  “Even if my eyes shoot fireballs at you and you spontaneously combust?”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Her pulse leapt when his rough fingers slipped beneath her chin and tipped her face up. “Gotta flash them pretty browns if you want to start my hair on fire.”

  Pretty browns? What was he up to, complimenting her? When she met his gaze, the compassion in his eyes stunned her. As did his gentle, “Ah darlin’, what’s really goin’ on?”

  Tierney blurte
d, “I stay in the office because I’m good with numbers. I’m not good with people. I’m not charming like Janie or sly and sweet like Harper. The Split Rock would be better off having no hostess than having me acting all fake and shit.”

  That’d shocked him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

  “Because you jumped in and told me why I said no. Why should I explain myself to you when you’ve already made the worst assumptions about me, my character and my business acumen?”

  Renner’s too blue eyes searched hers intently. “Tierney—”

  “You can’t claim you didn’t do that, because you did exactly that.”

  “I know. I’m an asshole sometimes.”

  “No argument from me.”

  He smiled. A wide, gap-toothed smile packed with pure roguish charm and damn if she didn’t catch herself smiling back. He touched the left side of her mouth. “Whoa. Lookit that. You’ve got dimples. Never noticed those before. Is this really the first time you’ve ever smiled at me?”

  “Probably.”

  His phone rang and he backed away to fish it out of his front pocket. “Jackson.”

  Tierney watched the blood drain from Renner’s face.

  “Where is she? Is she all right?”

  “What happened?”

  He snapped, “Hush for a second,” and turned away. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Renner hung up and booked it to the door.

  But Tierney grabbed the back of his coat. “You can’t just leave without telling me what’s going on!”

  “Janie’s been in a car accident. Abe’s at the hospital with her in Rawlins.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  He whirled around. “Now why would you do that?”

  Instead of saying, because I’m worried and I might be useful for a change, she tossed her head and retorted, “Because you need someone to keep you from driving like an idiot.”

  Renner snorted. “I’ve driven that road in my sleep.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. And no way will I listen to you nagging me all the way to Rawlins. Jesus. That’s my worst nightmare.” He leaned in until they were nose to nose. “I go. You stay. End of discussion.” Then he hustled out the door.

  Right. Like she’d start listening to him now.

  Tierney waited until she heard the roar of his truck; then she grabbed her keys, her coat and followed him.

  Chapter Four

  Renner put the pedal to the metal. Christ. Poor Janie. After what that woman had been through in the last three years . . . and now this? If she’d been sentient enough to insist Abe call him, he felt encouraged her injuries weren’t life threatening. Given Janie’s past, he couldn’t help but wonder if this had been an accident.

  Think of something else or you’ll go crazy with worry and drive like an idiot.

  He glanced at the speedometer. Ninety-five. He eased up on the gas, but his hands still white-knuckled the steering wheel. He tried to focus on practical matters. His thoughts kept circling around the question: What was he going to do without Janie on opening week?

  She was an integral part of his operation. She’d helped him with the concept for a ranch and resort. A place where he could feed his social nature and share his love of the Western lifestyle. The process hadn’t been as easy as he’d imagined—and now he worried he’d devoted the last two years to creating something with no guarantee it’d ever truly belong to him.

  As much crap as he’d taken from his buddies in the rodeo world about the Split Rock being a resort, he intended it to be as much a working ranch as an upscale hunting lodge and retreat.

  Hunting. Right. His brain raced a million directions. With Janie possibly being out of commission, good thing he’d already planned for the week ahead. Hunting permits had been secured. He’d laid in an extra supply of ammo. The ATVs were tuned up. The hunting guides were ready to switch off.

  Since Renner wasn’t much of a hunter, he’d hired two ranchers familiar with the lay of the land. The guys loved hunting so much they’d been happy to serve as guides in exchange for unlimited hunting rights. That’d been a cheap solution in the scheme of getting the Split Rock up and running.

  The only cheap thing so far. The land hadn’t been that pricey. He’d saved enough cash to purchase an additional two thousand acres alongside the first parcel. He would’ve been in good financial shape to fund this entire enterprise himself had the stock market not crashed and wiped him out. At that time he’d already had the building plans drawn up. Paid the hefty retainer for the specialized contractors that were scheduled a year out. Hell, he’d even had the building sites leveled and concrete footings poured.

  Then financial disaster struck.

  He didn’t remember where he’d initially gotten the name of Pratt Financial Group. Gene Pratt owned a variety of small businesses in the hospitality industry, as well as a finance company loosely tied to his interests. It hadn’t occurred to Renner until too late that the reason Pratt owned so many companies was because those businesses had defaulted on loan repayment. Pratt Financial Group—PFG—boasted enough equity that Renner was surprised when Gene Pratt agreed to meet with him personally in Kansas City.

  If Pratt had played coy or spun tales of instant financial security Renner would’ve walked away. But Pratt set him straight; chances of obtaining the funds from a traditional source, such as a bank, were less than five percent. He’d gone on to explain the real estate market was in the toilet, especially in the areas of luxury homes and private retreats. But Pratt admitted the potential of the Wyoming property interested him and he was willing to lend Renner the money—with a few conditions, which would be spelled out in the contract.

  A contract Gene Pratt just happened to have with him.

  PFG number crunchers projected a fifty percent chance of success and a ten percent return on investment if the resort could capitalize on hunting season, the holiday season and ski season. So PFG’s stipulation for lending Renner the money? The Split Rock Ranch and Resort had to be fully constructed, fully operational and fully staffed by October first.

  Renner knew meeting the criteria was a Herculean task, but he was so damn desperate for the capital he’d signed on the dotted line. After construction was under way, Tierney Pratt called on her father’s behalf, announcing she’d be on-site as PFG representative to ensure the resort opened on time.

  In the past few months the woman had dug in her high heels like an Old West homesteader with the promise of free land in exchange for proving fortitude. Since she was Gene Pratt’s daughter, Renner’s hands were tied. She’d invaded half his office space, a clear indication she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. And she’d gotten under his skin like a sand burr. It was more than her snippy attitude when she questioned him on every damn thing under the sun. It was more than the mesmerizing way her ass swayed in body-hugging skirts as she haughtily flitted away from him.

  She annoyed him. Frustrated him. Challenged him.

  Turned him on.

  How fucked up was it that the uptight woman did it for him in a bad way? He’d been stupid enough to fall for a rich daddy’s girl once; he had no intention of repeating that mistake.

  Keep telling yourself that.

  Renner continued to brood about Tierney because it kept him from thinking about Janie. Tierney had garnered his interest so completely he’d barely paid attention to Harper and Bran’s wedding last night; he’d been too busy watching her. Expecting to see boredom or derision, signs to remind him that she was a privileged, overeducated pain in the ass who’d look down on a small country wedding.

  But she’d blown that perception all to hell with her tears.

  His thoughts backtracked to the moment the minister had pronounced the couple husband and wife. Bran had said, “Finally,” before kissing Harper with such tenderness and wonder, Renner felt a little choked up. He’d glanced over to see Tierney crying hard enough to fog up her sexy smart-girl glasses. He’d never pegged her as the sentimental
type. And that fascinated the hell out of him.

  So he’d kept up his covert study of her during the reception. Tierney might not know how to work a room, but she sure knew how to rock a suit. Damn. He’d considered slathering her with compliments in case flattery would thaw the frosty void between them. But when she’d railed on him at the wedding reception about empty stalls and full haystacks, which weren’t her concern, he’d lashed out at her. And what had he found out? The woman’s aim was as sharp as her tongue.

  A fact she’d proven again today. Yet, there’d been a couple of moments when she’d actually seemed sweet. Shy. Wanting to reach out to him, but unsure how he’d respond. Maybe it was an assholish thing to do, refusing to let her accompany him to the hospital. Being enclosed in his truck with her would be hell. Not because they’d argue the entire time, but because he’d lose his train of thought whenever he caught a whiff of that sweet fragrance she wore.

  No, he had to be a jerk to her to make her stay put at the Split Rock. He’d apologize later.

  A flash behind him caught his attention and Renner glanced in the rearview mirror just as a car signaled to pass. A familiar car.

  Tierney’s car.