Wildfire by Roxanne Rustand Page A

probably right, in a way—he offered the luxury condos, a swimming pool, and a chef at the upscale ranch that served as a base camp for his company.
    She had a housekeeper who doubled as a cook when needed and no extra lodging facilities—other than her sister’s resort, which was a good forty-five minutes away—and Snow Canyon Ranch Outfitters was hardly likely to attract the crowd that arrived in private Lear jets.
    He leaned in close and winked. “Don’t forget my offer, sweetheart. It’s still stands.”
    “It won’t happen, Arlen.” At the corner of her eye, she saw Ellen Miller standing at the door of her private office, her arms folded across her chest. “At least, not any time soon.”
    The walls of the lobby seemed to close in on her, making it difficult to breathe. “Nice seeing you.”
    Without waiting for his reply, Tessa strode out of the bank to her pickup, climbed inside and rested her forehead against the steering wheel.
    Arlen she could handle, despite his pompous attitude and determination to buy her out. She’d find a way to come up with the loan money on time, to prove Ellen wrong.
    But Arlen hadn’t been far off-base about her fledgling business. This would be her third season, and she was still operating on a shoestring. How many customers did she lose each year to the glamorous websites and glossy brochures of her competitors, with their upscale facilities and big advertising budgets? If the economy took a downturn, her numbers would drop even further.
    And then, her dreams of financial independence would die.

     
    Josh levered himself off the couch and swung his heavy cast around so he could sit at the edge. Tessa had ordered him to stay put, but she’d based that on the fact that he’d been overmedicated and confused.
    He was much better now. He was too restless to sit still.
    And he couldn’t have come up with a better setup if he’d tried.
    He needed a place to recuperate, of course. He’d been concerned for Tessa’s safety. But he’d also hoped for just this sort of connection, where he could insert himself into the fabric of rural Wyoming life and finish the magazine assignment he’d been given.
    It was a perfect, fair arrangement, even if Tessa didn’t know all of his reasons for being here.
    He glanced around the snug little cabin, with its pine paneled walls, rustic furniture, and cheerful, bandana-print curtains. There was a kitchenette of sorts in one corner; a short counter topped with cupboards, flanked with a small refrigerator and a stove at either end.
    Ignoring the crutches propped against the end of the sofa, he hopped over to the refrigerator and peered inside, breathing as hard as if he’d just completed a five-mile run. The motion kicked up the pain deep in his belly. Bracing one hand on the counter, he doubled over his other forearm, realizing that maybe—just this one time—Tessa might have been right about him staying on the sofa. After three days here, he still wasn’t up to doing much.
    The screen door to the porch squealed open and slammed shut. He turned and found a tall woman standing just inside, with a cloth-covered tray.
    Slender, with an ageless sort of beauty that placed her somewhere between thirty and fifty, she had an arresting, regal presence, and once again, he felt the urge to find his camera and start taking pictures.
    Her stern, unyielding expression, lit by late afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows, would make a perfect study in black and white, but he had a feeling that she’d never agree to it. In fact, the surprising amount of antipathy in her dark eyes took him aback.
    “Tessa’s running errands, so I brought you an early supper,” she said. “Since you’re up, I’ll put it on the table. Eat while it’s hot.” She set the tray down, leaving it covered, and turned to go.
    “Wait.”
    She turned back slowly, telegraphing her veiled disapproval, and met his gaze squarely. “Yes?”
    He tried his most disarming