“I’ve missed you, Ellie Crandall,” he said, his voice low. “More than I realized.”

As he began to lower his head, Ellie felt her eyes flutter shut.

Gently he placed a small series of nibbling kisses along the lower rim of her mouth, undemanding, soft and inquisitive.

With a moan of surrender, she eagerly rose on tiptoe to press her body closer to his. Her action caused him to tug her closer to his body and she became acutely aware of her breasts pressed against his hard chest.

She inhaled a swift breath. There was nothing innocent about the feel of his arousal, strong and unyielding as it pressed against her belly.

“God, Ellie … you taste so good. Your mouth is like honey,” he told her with a catch in his voice. He bent back down to recapture her lips, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to his big, hard body.

Arching her body fully into his, on fire from his talented tongue, Ellie tunneled her fingers through his hair.

“Dr. Eleanor Crandall, you’re wanted at the front!”

And just like that, the sound of her father’s voice right outside the door brought Ellie’s eyes wide open.

About the Author

KIMBERLY KAYE TERRY’S love for reading romances began at an early age. Long into the night she would stay up with her Mickey Mouse night-light on, until she reached The End, praying she wouldn’t be caught reading what her mother called “those” types of books. Often she would acquire her stash of “those” books from beneath her mother’s bed. Ahem. To date she’s an award-winning author of fourteen novels in romance and erotic romance, has garnered acclaim for her work and happily calls writing her full-time job.

Kimberly has a bachelor’s degree in social work, a master’s degree in human relations and has held licenses in social work and mental health therapy in the United States and abroad. She volunteers weekly at various social-service agencies and is a long-standing member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., a community-conscious organization. Kimberly is a naturalist and practices aromatherapy. She believes in embracing the powerful woman within each of us and meditates on a regular basis. Kimberly would love to hear from you. Visit her at www.kimberlykayeterry.com.

Books by Kimberly Kaye Terry

Kimani Romance

Hot to Touch To Tempt a Wilde To Love a Wilde To Desire a Wilde

Dear Reader,

There is nothing sexier or more emotionally charged than reaching for and holding on tight to a love you once thought unattainable—which is exactly what happens to the hero and heroine in my third installment of the Wilde in Wyoming series.

In To Desire a Wilde, sexy Shilah Wilde comes face-to-face with Ellie Crandall, the one woman he’s never been able to get out of his mind—something that no one, least of all Ellie, ever knew. When she left Wyoming to pursue her career as a veterinarian, following in her father’s footsteps, she swore she’d never return, despite the feelings she once had for Shilah. But now she’s back, ten years later, and working for the USDA in a case against the Wilde Ranch. Despite doubts and questions, sparks fly and passions ignite. The hidden yearnings they once shared for each other blossom into a raging passion that sets the Wyoming Wilde Ranch and everything in its path ablaze.

I appreciate your support and will always do my best to deliver to you, my valued readers, emotionally charged stories filled with love, life and laughter … and red-hot, scalding passion!

Keep it sexy!

Kimberly

TO DESIRE A WILDE

Kimberly Kaye Terry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my amazing daughter, who fills me with laughter and

makes my days brighter. I love you, pooh!

Chapter 1

Ellie’s booted footsteps sank silently into the damp grass that separated the east stable from the closed corral. She stopped at the coral’s locked gate and propped her arms along the fence and tilted her face upward.

The sun fell like magic against her upturned face. An unknowing smile tugged at the corners of her full lips as she drew in a deep, hungry breath.

It had been a long time since she’d been at the ranch. She blew out the breath and turned her attention to the lone corralled horse.

The female thoroughbred standing alone, isolated, was one of the Wilde Ranch’s latest acquisitions, one that Nate Wilde, the oldest brother, had bought at a ranch near Cheyenne several months ago.

From her father, who was the veterinarian for the Wilde Ranch, Ellie knew they’d tried mating the Arabian a few times with several of their top-quality quarter horses. However, they had quickly realized that although they’d managed to tame her, it hadn’t been enough to allow her to tolerate another horse anywhere near her—at least not for mating.

She stood grazing in the middle of the corral, content to be left alone.

Ellie felt a certain empathy with the beautiful horse. She too found contentment in being alone.

After several minutes Ellie turned away and again lifted her face upward, shielding her eyes from the brightly glowing sun.

It was late spring, and nature had awakened from her winter sleep. The ranch was alive with noise from horses and cattle as well as sounds of men hard at work across the sprawling ranch.

Spring was mating and branding season for the cattle, and with a new venture into crossbreeding horses, it was a busy time at Wyoming Wilde. The men were also hard at work preparing for one of their largest auctions, to come in the fall, and a lot depended on this season.

The ranch had come a long way from the days when Jed Wilde had run the one hundred acre spread alone, trying to make ends meet. Now it was one of the most prosperous family-owned ranches in the country.

Ellie glanced around, remembering the many times she’d visited the ranch growing up, accompanying her father on his visits.

She’d always felt at home at Wyoming Wilde. As the only child of older parents, she’d been cosseted, protected—some would say overly protected—by both parents and outside of activities with them; the ranch had become a second home to her.

Ellie had come as a complete surprise to her mother, told long ago she couldn’t have children. Because of that, her parents’ tendency toward overprotecting her had made Ellie more content at home, curled up with a book or playing with the few animals her parents had on their own land.

With her love for animals, the ranch became her own haven. Only at the ranch did her father give her free rein to explore, allowing her to follow the ranchers around as they went about their duties. It was a place where she felt like any other child, playing, learning about the animals, without inhibition.

A bittersweet memory flooded her mind. It was also the place where part of that independence her parents had afforded her had been taken away.

She’d been young, only ten years old, not long after Jed Wilde had become a foster father for three young boys he’d later adopted.

Ellie had been riding one of the horses, alone, something she knew her father wouldn’t approve of. But she had been so caught up in the sheer enjoyment of the warm day, riding with the wind rushing against her face, she hadn’t realized she’d gone out so far, with no one around.

Voices calling out to her had caught up with her on the wind, and she’d stopped, glancing over her shoulder to see Jed Wilde and the three young boys riding with him.

Surprised, Ellie had spun around and startled the horse when she’d reined him around too fast. The horse had lost its footing and Ellie had come tumbling down. With her foot caught in the stirrup the panicked horse had dragged her several feet until the men had caught up with them and managed to free Ellie.

She didn’t remember much after that. The searing pain radiating from her knee up the length of her thigh had made her so dizzy she’d passed out. She’d come in and out of consciousness, her father clutching her hand as Jed Wilde had driven them to the hospital.

When finally she’d awakened, it had been in a hospital bed, staring up into the worried face of a young boy.

She’d been confused, dazed and not sure where she was, or who the boy was staring down at her.

“It’s … it’s gonna be all right,” he’d whispered.

Ellie had frowned, sniffing back tears. “What—” She’d stopped speaking, grimacing when she moved and a pain shot up her leg. “What happened?”

He’d touched her hand, holding it within his, his young face lined with worry. “You had an accident. But everything is gonna be okay. They fixed you up real good. Everything is gonna be okay,” he said again, as though he didn’t know what else to say to her.

Before Ellie could ask who he was, her parents, along with a nurse, had rushed into her room. Her mother ran to her side, and from her peripheral vision Ellie saw the boy step back, silently moving away and allowing her mother to take the hand he’d just held.

She’d learned that when she’d fallen from the horse, one foot had gotten caught in the stirrup. Unable to free herself, the horse had dragged her, and her knee had violently turned. During the traumatic chain of events she’d also suffered a concussion.

Upon her arrival at the hospital, unconscious, she’d had an MRI of her knee—the swelling had been so severe, they were unable to ascertain the extent of the damage. She’d suffered an ACL injury that would take years of therapy, and eventually surgery. The devastating news that her knee would never be the same and she’d have to wear a brace for years to regain her mobility had changed her life.

Although her knee had healed—better than the doctors had expected, in fact—there were times when her limp became more pronounced. But it was unnoticeable most of the time Her continual physical therapy, the brace she wore for years and sheer determination had seen to that.

Even as a girl Ellie had a determination that belied her young years. The pain that came with recovery she could deal with. It was the stares and looks of sympathy on the faces of her peers, and adults, that had left a scar deeper than the ones inflicted on her knee.

Already introverted, she had retreated even further into her shell. So her father had reluctantly allowed her to come back to the ranch, desperate to see his daughter return to being the happy child she’d been, before the accident.

At the ranch she was able to be free, no one looked at her with sympathy in their eyes as their glance would fall to her leg, supported by the brace. At Wyoming Wilde, the ranchers allowed her to work, encouraged her to and treated her like one of them.

At the ranch, the men … as well as Jed’s young foster sons, treated her like anyone else, something she never forgot.

Especially one of the boys, in particular, the one whom she’d seen at the hospital, who’d taken her hand. Shilah Wilde.

The memory of Shilah Wilde replaced those of a more painful nature. Although she’d been only a young girl, she remembered how his concern for her had affected her, the way he’d wiped away her tears and held her hand, even for that brief moment,.

Each of the boys had his own distinct personality. Nate, the oldest, took on the role of big brother, and had always seemed to be mature, despite his young age. Holt, the youngest brother, was the flirt, the one with the ready comeback.

But it was the middle brother, Shilah, whom Ellie had been drawn to.

He was quieter than his brothers, yet in his dark eyes there was a wealth of humor at times, sadness at others. She remembered her mother once commenting that Shilah had what the old people would call an “old soul.”

Although she only saw him a handful of times during her visits to the ranch before her accident, she’d been aware that he’d been following her. Before the accident, she’d been too shy to call out to him, let him know that she knew he was following her.

Afterward, it had taken months before she’d garnered enough courage to do so. It wasn’t long before their tentative friendship had blossomed into one Ellie had cherished.

He’d brought out a side of her that few besides her parents ever saw, especially after the accident. His ability to make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to, was one that she never forgot.

And she’d never forgotten his impact on her.

“Ellie? Is that you?” A deep voice penetrated her thoughts, jerked her out of her memories. She spun around.

Shielding her eyes with her hand, Ellie watched as a large figure emerged from the cover of a newly budding magnolia tree. Slowly she backed up, until her back bumped up against the wood fence, her heartbeat increasing in tempo.

She knew she was safe at the ranch, as once, long ago, it had been like a second home to her. But now, everything … everyone, was so new to her, it was as though she were seeing the place for the first time.

Once the figure came into full view, Ellie drew in a breath, her mouth forming a perfect O of surprise. It couldn’t be …

“Shilah?” she asked, her frown easing from her mouth as the figure came into full view.

“Hey, El … long time no see,” he said, a slow smile hijacking the corner of his mouth, his voice deeper than she remembered.

She drew in a breath, her glance sliding over him as he stood several feet away.

Not only was his voice deeper than she remembered, but he was taller. At five foot eight, Ellie was used to being close to the same height as most men. In heels she was often taller. But as he drew closer, despite the high heels on her boots, she had to stretch her neck up to see into his face.

Oh, mercy … And what a face. He removed his Stetson and a soundless breath of appreciation escaped from her lips.

For a moment she stood still, their gazes locked. Once he removed his hat, she could see his face fully. Handsome was much too tame a description for him.

His skin was a natural light golden hue, due to his Native American heritage, reminding her of cream with a strong hint of sweet, decadent honey. High sculpted cheekbones, a narrow nose and square chin gave him the kind of looks that would make anyone stop and stare. The set of his features was perfect. His face could have been sculpted by a master artisan.

But it was his eyes that sent a deep shiver over her body, despite the warm day. Dark, slashing brows were set above deep-set chocolate-brown eyes, the thin ring of gold around the iris lending him an almost … predatory appearance.

Her glance slid to his mouth, where one corner was curved lightly in a half smile and everything … feminine … in Ellie went still. As he moved closer, she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Several steps more and he was standing a foot away from her. “You’re home,” he said, simply.

Before she could read the play of emotions that crossed his handsome face he’d reached over and pulled her close, tight against his body and into his once-familiar embrace.

Chapter 2

Once he released her, he pushed her away, running his glance over her.

Ellie’s heart was still pounding out a ragged beat and she quelled the urge to place her hand in her hair to tuck imaginary strands back into the low chignon she wore at the base of her neck.

Shaken, she took a few steps away, when the boot of her heel caught on a piece of timber, turning her ankle and twisting her knee. She hissed, reached down and gingerly rubbed her knee.

Immediately he was there, next to her, grabbing her beneath the elbow to steady her.

“Are you okay?” Shilah asked, his warm hand cupped beneath her elbow.

Ellie bit back a curse. Of all the times for her to lose her balance—this was the one time she would give anything for it not to happen.

She shook her head, dismissing her clumsiness, hiding her grimace as well as her embarrassment.

“I’m fine … just clumsy,” she said. “And I should have known better than to try and be cute by wearing these boots,” she finished in self-mockery, laughing lightly and glancing up at him. As she looked into his handsome face, old ghosts reared and Ellie inwardly cringed, expecting to see sympathy in his dark eyes. That was something she couldn’t take. Especially from Shilah.

“From where I stand, I’d have to say with all selfishness that a potential tumble was well worth it, considering what those boots do for your legs.”

She wet her bottom lip, not sure what to say she was so shocked at his reply. She tugged the hem of her skirt down past her knee and glanced back up at him. Instead of the sympathy she dreaded to see lurking there, what she saw made her draw in a short breath.

She remembered how gorgeous he’d been as a young man, the way he’d look at her, a half smile on his sensual lips in response to something she’d said, sending her young heart thumping out of control. But now, standing before her, so tall that his broad shoulders blocked out the noontime sun’s blazing rays, Stetson held loosely in his big hand … the man was devastating.

She drew in a breath, wetting the bottom rim of her lip. When his gaze followed her action, she swallowed and forced herself to look away.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and she shook her head, the smile on her face shaky.

“I’m fine.” When she pulled away slightly, after only a brief pause, he released his hold on her, allowing her to move away.

“So I see,” he said, and her gaze flew to his again, her heartbeat hiccupping in her chest. In his enigmatic expression she was unable to determine if he meant the comment in any way besides the reference to her turning her ankle.

She smiled tightly and turned toward the horse in the corral.

“Dad says you and your brothers have started breeding racehorses,” she said, in an attempt to get the conversation toward safer ground.

She felt his gaze on hers and held her breath, only releasing it when he turned toward the horse.

“Yeah, we’ve gone into breeding and crossbreeding. It’s been going well for us. It was mainly Nate’s idea, although we’ve been thinking about doing it for a while now,” he said, and she nodded her head.

“Dad says you bought more land a couple of years ago,” she both asked and stated.

“We did. Actually it was six years ago, after Dad died. It was part of the original land he’d purchased but had to sell in order to keep the ranch afloat years ago.”

“Has he been … gone that long?” she shook her head.

The mention of Jed Wilde brought a look of sadness to Shilah’s face. “Yeah, time has a way of going on, no matter what.”

“Seems like yesterday he was out here with you … with all of us. Teaching us, sharing his love for the ranch,” she said after a long moment, a reminiscent smile on her face. “Showing us how to brand a cow,” she finished with a small laugh.

“Yeah, and I remember that only too well. When he offered to let you brand one you had no problem. Did it like you’d been branding cows your whole life. But when my turn came around, I passed out,” he said with a groan, and Ellie laughed outright.

“That’s funny, huh?” he asked, and although his look was stern, she saw the humor lurking in his unique eyes.

“Yep, sure is,” she quipped, unrepentant. “What was it Holt started calling you after that?” Ellie frowned, trying to remember the nickname.

“Sheila … Little Heifer Who Sleeps With Cows,” he filled in, deadpan, and Ellie’s laughter grew. “He shortened it to Sheila.”

“Oh, my God, that was funny,” she said around her laughter.

“I caught a lot of shit from my brothers about that. It was a long time before Holt stop referring to me by that name,” he said, running a hand over the back of his neck, a humorous yet chagrined look on his handsome face, and a fresh wave of giggles assaulted Ellie.

“Of course, after that, Holt, the eternal funnyman, couldn’t stop. When I sliced into my finger while we were slaughtering I was known as Sheila, Boy Who Spills His Guts,” he said, and again, Ellie’s laughter rang out. By the time he finished reminiscing about the various nicknames his brother had given him, she was swiping tears from her eyes.

“Why’d you leave, Ellie? Why’d you leave without saying goodbye?”

His question brought Ellie up short and her laughter died out. Slowly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his intense stare.

Shilah glanced down at Ellie, taking in the somber set of her features, and he cursed himself.

For a moment, she was the young girl he remembered from their childhood, particularly before her accident, when her carefree laughter would ring out on the wings of the wind as she played on the ranch.

Within several months of his calling the ranch home, Shilah had first glimpsed Ellie. It was her laughter that had brought him to the shed that held the horses. He’d watched as she’d fed the horse, petting and talking to it as though it understood what she was saying. Her love and natural affinity for the horse had reminded him of his life on the reservation and instantly made him curious about her.

He’d followed her without her knowledge as she’d taken the horse out for a ride.

He’d stayed out far enough behind that she hadn’t been aware of him, yet he’d been able to watch her and it had set a pattern. Whenever she’d visit the ranch, while her father took care of the animals she’d go for one of her rides, and he’d find an excuse to leave without his brothers or foster father knowing.

He’d been set to follow her one day as she rode, but a call from Jed had made him turn around and head back home. It had been on that day that part of her laughter had been taken from her, a day he’d never forgotten.

The accident had been freakish and although he, his brothers and father weren’t to blame, a part of Shilah had always faulted himself for her fall. Had he followed her that day, or at least told her father where she was, he could have somehow prevented the fall and the accident.

It had taken a long time after the accident before he had been able to forget the pain in her eyes when she’d glanced up at him. She’d looked so small in the hospital bed, the crisp white linens startling against her deep brown skin as she gazed up at him, pain and confusion in her light brown eyes.

It had taken even longer for him to finally get the nerve up to talk to her. By then, she was even more closed off, more introverted than he remembered, and any attempt at conversation was normally met with silence or at most a short reply before she’d make an excuse to turn and, favoring her uninjured leg, walk away.

His glance slid over her as she stood close to him, their gazes locked.

Eventually, she’d begun to thaw toward him, open up to him, allowing him to become what he’d learned was a small circle of people she trusted. Her visits to the ranch with her father increased, and whenever he knew she was coming, he took pains with his appearance, carefully keeping his friendship with Ellie from his brothers.

Not because he was afraid of the ribbing he’d no doubt get, but because their friendship was special to him, unlike any relationship he’d had with anyone else.

After graduating from high school and entering college, their time together was short. Between school and work, Shilah barely had time for much else. Life for Ellie became busy as well, with preparing for college and working in her father’s office part-time, the two grew apart.

And then one day he came home and learned from her father that she’d decided to attend college out of state, and he hadn’t seen her since. Yet he had never forgotten her, never forgotten how important she was to him, how her smile seemed to light up the room when she came in.

Never forgotten how much he loved her, even though they’d been so young.

His gaze ran over her, as she stood a few feet away from him.

She’d grown up a lot since those days. She no longer wore the brace she worn for years. His eyes went over the smooth, uninterrupted view of her long, brown legs. The hem of her skirt flirted just below knee level, and her high-heeled boots stopped at her shapely calves.

His gaze traveled back up the length of her body. The weather was warm and she wore a light sweater over her blouse, yet her full breasts pressed against the soft-looking fabric.

He forced his glance away.

A frown creased her forehead at his question. “I don’t know why I left. I guess a part of me knew that if I stayed, I’d never experience life, in a way.” She shrugged. “After the accident, my parents were always afraid for me. They never really allowed me to be … free.” She halted. “That’s as good a word as any, I suppose.”

For a moment it appeared as though she’d been about to say something else, but she placed a small smile on her face and glanced back toward the penned horse.

Desperately wanting to replace the sad look in her eyes, and not wanting to delve too deeply into what else he saw, Shilah shifted the conversation. Soon she was laughing again over his exploits with his brothers.

Somehow during their conversation they’d ambled toward a nearby bench. He motioned for her to sit.

She glanced over the pasture before she turned to face him. One side of her mouth lifted in a small smile. Shilah’s gaze settled over her features. The look on her face was serene, beautiful, content. It was an image that immediately lodged in his heart.

It was several minutes before she answered, and when she did the smile on her face was as enigmatic as her answer. And drew him to her, just as it had when they were young.

His glance fell to her hands as they rested in her lap. With one hand, she toyed with the fingers of the other, sliding her forefinger around and around in a circular pattern in the palm of the other hand.

“I guess I came home …” She paused, her hand movement stilling as her glance raked over his face, the look in her eyes one that sent his heartbeat thumping harshly against his chest. “Because, well, it was time.”

Shilah barely refrained from reaching out and grasping her hand and tugging her toward him, silently wishing that part of her reason for returning home was because of him.

Chapter 3

Shilah strode into the sprawling, five-thousand-square-foot house he’d called home for nearly twenty years, withdrew his jacket and lifted his Stetson from his head, absently tossing both on the hallway table.

He sidestepped the ladder that rested against the wall near the laundry room, along with a variety of other building materials, making a mental note to remind his brothers to tell the construction crew to clean up after themselves when they broke for the day. If they didn’t, he would be the first in line to duck and hide when Lilly came after them for “messing up my house.”

Hopefully, the general mayhem and mess would soon be over, finishing the construction that would add two additional wings on the house to accommodate their growing family. Although their home was large enough now for everyone, with both of Shilah’s brothers engaged, the decision had been made to add separate suites for them, for privacy.

The distant smell of lunch permeated the air, but there was no sign of Lilly or anyone else in the spacious kitchen. He glanced over at the antique grandfather clock in the foyer. It was almost time for Yasmine and the others to start preparing for dinner. But, as he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, he couldn’t wait for the others and made his way to the fridge. He withdrew a cold beer, and, twisting off the cap, he tipped his head back and allowed the bitter amber to slide down his throat.

“You do realize that it’s not even four o’clock, huh, bro?”

Shilah knew it had to be too good to be true—that he might actually have a moment to himself alone, when he could think in private about the bombshell life had just thrown, in the way of Ellie Crandall.

He didn’t bother turning to face his brother, but simply finished off his beer before placing the empty bottle on top of the marble counter near the fridge. Reluctantly he turned to face Holt.

As usual, a shit-eating grin was split across his youngest brother’s face, and as usual Shilah ignored it, simply lifting a brow. “I’m sure it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

Holt nodded his head. “Yeah, guess you’re right about that.” Holt pushed away from the bar-style counter and walking farther into the kitchen.

Shilah moved to the side, to allow him to reopen the fridge. When he pulled out an assortment of sliced turkey and ham, along with a variety of toppings, Shilah’s stomach rumbled in response.

Holt glanced over his shoulder, meeting his eyes. “You missed lunch too?”

“Yeah,” Shilah answered. “Just got back from the south pasture. I was hoping Lilly left me a plate from lunch.”

“Naw, Lil is resting. Ellie and the new kitchen girl did lunch today.” He threw Shilah a forlorn look. “And Yaz didn’t even make lunch for me. Guess my baby missed the memo.”

Shilah raised a brow. “Which one was that?”

“You hungry?” he asked, and Shilah nodded his head.

After withdrawing two plates from the overhead cabinet, Holt went about deftly slicing tomatoes and pickles. “The one that says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” he groused, and Shilah barked out a laugh.

Recently, Holt had become engaged to Yasmine Taylor, their housekeeper Lilly’s niece. Although Lilly was much more than a housekeeper to the men, having been a part of the ranch before Shilah, Holt and Nate had arrived as foster kids.

Thinking back, Shilah had a hard time remembering when the woman wasn’t a part of their lives, as she’d been more like a surrogate mother to Shilah and his two brothers from the time they were young.

Her niece Yasmine had been a part of the ranch for nearly as long, coming to live with them when she was a child, as well. Soon after graduating high school she’d left, and her visits to the ranch after that had been few and far between. She’d come home last month to help Lilly recover after her knee-replacement surgery and.

Shilah glanced at his brother, holding back a laugh when he bit out a curse after slicing into his finger, again grumbling about his woman and her neglect.

… And that was all she wrote, Shilah finished the thought. Penthouse—the nickname Holt had been given when he’d played pro ball, known for changing his women as often as most men changed their shorts—had fallen and fallen hard. And Yasmine had fallen just as hard, the pair inseparable since their engagement. When Holt wasn’t working, he could be found with Yasmine, helping her as she planned the opening of her own catering business, as well as meeting with producers for a cooking show that would begin taping in the fall.

“Grab some bread. Yaz and I made some rye last night,” Holt said, making a sound with his mouth and smacking his lips.

At that, Shilah turned to his brother, raising a brow. “You and Yaz?”

“Yep, she’s been giving me cooking lessons. In exchange she allows me to give her lessons in … well, let’s just say my baby is learning the ABCs of how to treat her man.” A grin of remembered pleasure crossed his face. He turned to Shilah. “Just need to slice it,” he said, nodding his head toward the pantry.

Holt frowned, his thumb in his mouth. “What? You don’t like rye bread?”

Shilah laughed. “First you rant about her not taking care of you, then you’re talking about helping her cook and then waxing poetic on how well she treats her man. ABCs of how to treat her man, my ass.” Shilah laughed. “You’re so whipped it ain’t even funny, man.”

Holt shrugged, humor lighting his pale blue eyes. “If I don’t grouse every once in a while, y’all will think I’m getting soft.” He winked. “Can’t have that. My babe likes me … hard.”

“Whoa!” Shilah threw up his hands. “I’m a man. And your brother. That doesn’t get me excited, the thought of you getting hard,” he said, tossing the sack holding the bread toward Holt. Which his ex-NFL brother easily caught, an ever-present half grin on his face. “In fact, it makes me wanna hurl.”

With both of his brothers, Nate and Holt, engaged, for the first time in a long time Shilah felt alone, in a way he hadn’t felt in longer than he wanted to remember.

Not that he wasn’t happy for them; it was just that at times lately it hit him that soon his brothers would start families of their own, and the thought was unsettling.

He lifted a bag of chips he’d found on the shelf and walked toward the island-style counter in the middle of the kitchen and placed it alongside the bread.

“You’re a lucky man. Nothing wrong with appreciating what you’ve got.”

He felt Holt’s curious gaze on him as they quickly made sandwiches for their makeshift lunch.

Holt sat next to him on a barstool, took a healthy bite of his sandwich and swallowed. Around the bite, Holt began, “You know, Yaz has this friend—”

“Has Nate returned from Cheyenne yet?” Shilah interjected. There was no way in hell he was going to let his brother finish that particular train of thought. Damn, was he so pitiful that Holt thought he needed fixing up?

Shilah was perfectly happy remaining the single man in their family. Besides the yearning he’d felt when he’d watched his brothers with their brides-to-be, sharing secret smiles or going to bed early, eyes only for each other, Shilah knew that love and happily-ever-after wasn’t in the cards for him.

He’d known that from the time he was a young boy. He was too … flawed, for any woman to ever love him.

Immediately the image of Ellie Crandall came to his mind, as unexpected as it was sudden.

He forced away the conflicting feelings he felt at seeing her again.

Although he’d chosen to go to a local college when he wasn’t working at the ranch, he’d often spent his free time at the library, studying and cramming four years of college into two. Soon after graduating, he’d devoted his time fully to the ranch, working long, hard days. At that point the ranch had begun to grow—he and his brothers as well had worked alongside Jed to see to that.

Although his brothers had gone on temporarily to pursue other interests, it had been for the betterment of the ranch. Nate, the oldest, had been involved in a lucrative stint of bull riding, and Holt in the NFL. The money they’d earned was used to improve and expand the ranch.

Within a short time, their profits had skyrocketed as they’d diversified, adding breeding of thoroughbreds to their menu, the money that earned allowing them to expand even more.

It had taken the death of Jed for all three brothers to come home and work the ranch full-time, dedicating themselves to seeing it become the vision Jed had for it.

Ellie’s arrival on the ranch had brought back memories, memories of a special time in his life, some painful, held deep in his subconscious, but all of them close to his heart.

“Not yet. He and Althea should be home by the weekend,” Holt replied, answering his question about Nate, bringing Shilah’s attention back to the present.

Recently, a national food conglomerate, Rolling Hills. had begun to buy … or consume, as he and his brothers had come to believe, many of the family-owned ranches at an alarming rate, leaving Wyoming Wilde as one of the last in the area.

Less than a year ago, a representative from Rolling Hills had approached him and his brothers in an offer to buy out the ranch. They hadn’t considered the offer, although lucrative, but their refusal to sell had fallen on deaf ears.

“Any word yet on anything? Did Nate find out anything more about who, if anyone, is behind this shit?” Shilah asked, in disgust.

Not only had Rolling Hills been after their ranch relentlessly, over the last year freak accidents had been accruing at an increasing rate, from isolated fires breaking out, to animals being misplaced on their way to slaughter.

Some were minor, some more serious in nature. As the “accidents” increased, more and more the brothers suspected someone was out to get them. And the only “someone” that came to mind was Rolling Hills.

The latest incident was by far the most serious. It could prove disastrous for the ranch’s continuation and was the reason Nate and Althea had made a trip to Cheyenne.

“Thank God our brother has friends in high places, or we would have been up the proverbial creek,” Holt said, a hard edge entering his voice.

Nate had been tipped off by a friend who worked for the USDA that a someone anonymous had made accusations that Wyoming Wilde Ranch was knowingly selling tainted meat.

With that, the men now knew that all the previous accidents hadn’t been coincidences. Someone … more accurately, Rolling Hills, had taken the game to a whole new level, and the threat could prove fatal for Wyoming Wilde.

“I spoke with Nate this morning. Before any of this goes further, Nate’s friend has arranged an outside contractor to come to the ranch and review our facilities.”

Shilah frowned, thoughts of Ellie momentarily placed in the back of his mind.

“Review our facilities? What the hell for?”

Holt shook his head. “Hell, at least they didn’t shut us down. Actually, it’s a good thing. This way we can prove no tainted meat is coming from Wyoming Wilde.” Before Shilah could comment, Holt continued. “Speaking of which,” he said, standing and carrying his plate to the sink. “I don’t know if you remember Doc Crandall’s daughter, Ellie?” At that, Shilah’s gaze flew to his brother’s, narrowing.

Blithely, Holt continued, “Check this out. This could either be a good thing for the ranch or bad. Depending on how it all pans out. Anyway,” he said, wiping his hands on a dishrag after cleansing the plate and placing it in the drainer, and with only a raised brow accepting Shilah’s plate as well. “Turns out she followed in her old man’s footsteps and became a vet.”

Shilah hid his surprise at the announcement. He realized that during his earlier exchange with her he never asked Ellie what she did for a living, or what had brought her to the ranch. The thought that he might be seeing her on a more regular basis, that she might be helping her father out, filled him with a heady anticipation.

“Damn, no, I didn’t know,” he said, hiding his reaction.

“Gets better than that.”

Shilah impatiently waited for Holt to continue, gritting his teeth when his brother frowned over the plate he’d just cleaned and tsked at himself, before wiping away a smudge of food he’d missed.

“When the hell did you become Betty Homemaker? Give me the damn plate!” Shilah said, snatching the plate and placing it in the drainer.

“Hey, what’s up with you?”

Shilah exhaled a breath, knowing his behavior was odd and not wanting his brother, known for his … unusual sense of humor, to discern the reason.

“Just nerves, man. This whole thing with Rolling Hills is getting under my skin,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief when his explanation seemed to appease Holt.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Same here. Sorry about that. Guess my baby is having an influence on me when it comes to the kitchen. She pitches a fit if everything isn’t cleaned up,” he said with a shrug.

Although he wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and rag on Holt for his newfound domestication, Shilah’s mind was divided between concern for the ranch and what, if anything, Ellie had to do with it.

He ran back through their conversation in his mind. When he’d first asked her the reason for her return to the ranch, he’d wanted to bite out his tongue, seeing the laughter flee from her eyes, replaced by the somberness that she often seemed to carry around her like a stone weight.

After that, he’d managed to bring the smile back to her face, making her laugh outright a few times, and he’d been happier than he should have been. She was just a girl from his past, he reminded himself, and immediately his inner voice mocked him with the memory of how good she’d felt … how right she’d felt against him when she’d stumbled and he’d pulled her close for a moment.

No. She was a woman from his past, one he hadn’t seen or thought of for years, and nothing more.

“Yeah, well, anyway, our little Ellie has grown up and is working for the USDA. And apparently she’s the vet they assigned to come and investigate.”

“Wait a minute … back up. Ellie is investigating us?” When his brother stared at him as though he had grown two heads, Shilah realized that he must have lost a thread of their conversation, his mind on Ellie.

“Uh … yeah. We just talked about that. USDA is sending out their own investigator about the report?”

“Yes, I got that part. I missed the part about what Ellie has to do with that. How exactly … when …did she get involved with the case?”

“Now, that I don’t know. But I’m sure Nate will fill us in when he gets back home.” A glance at his watch and Holt cursed. “Damn, I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago to pick up Yaz from town.”

With that he bolted out of the kitchen, leaving Shilah with his thoughts.

Left alone, Shilah thought back to his conversation with Ellie. Each time he’d been set to ask her about what she’d been doing, somehow the conversation had turned and he’d been doing the talking. A seed of doubt crept into his mind. Had she been so absorbed in him … in the conversation, to distract him away from asking what she was doing at the ranch?

He shook his head. No, not Ellie. Besides, she wouldn’t do anything to harm the ranch, he reasoned. She loved it as much as any of them did.

But why hadn’t she told him why she was on the ranch? The question nagged at him as he left the house, turning over in his mind Ellie’s reason for not mentioning her role with the ranch.

Chapter 4

“Is that you, baby girl?”

No sooner had Ellie walked inside her parents’ house, than she heard her mother calling out to her.

With a tired sigh, she placed her bag down on the hallway table and walked farther inside, spying her mother in the kitchen, an apron tied around her ample hips.

“Is Dad home?” she asked.

“No, he got a call from the Petersons. Seems one of their prize goats has gone into a difficult labor,” her mother replied, casually.

Ellie laughed. To any other person that would have seemed like an odd statement, but she’d learned it all in stride, having grown up with a father who not only worked as the veterinarian for the Wilde Ranch, but also served as a veterinarian to farm animals and pets … and goat farmers. Although many of the local farms and ranches had been sold to major corporations, her father maintained a thriving practice.

She walked into the kitchen, leaned over her mother’s shoulder and inhaled.

“Hmm … that smells great, Mom. What are you making?”

“Oh, just a little something I threw together.”

Ellie opened the refrigerator, pulled out a can of cola and grinned at her mother.

“Something you just threw together, huh?” she asked, seeing the small smile playing around the corners of her mother’s mouth.

“It’s your favorite—pot roast. It’s not every day my only child returns home,” she quipped. Although it was said lightly, Ellie frowned. She opened her mouth to remind her mother that she didn’t know how long she’d be home, but just as quickly closed it.

That was just it. She herself didn’t know how long that would be.

Her return home had come at a time when she was deciding the next course in her career, her life.

Instead of joining her dad in practice after graduating, Ellie had chosen to do an extended study in animal husbandry at an overseas tertiary institution. Although her parents had been proud of her, having been chosen among thousands of applicants, she knew her father had also been disappointed that she hadn’t joined him in his practice.

But, as much as she loved her parents, appreciated them, after the accident she’d suffered as a child and the looks of pity she’d come to abhor as she’d grown older, Ellie knew that she had to leave Lander, the home she’d grown up in.

Even if that had meant leaving her parents, and the community, the only home she known for all of her life.

Completing the extended study, she’d elected to remain for a period of time as an associate professor as well as vet for the small rural community she’d come to love. But, after her last visit home, she’d been struck by how much her parents had aged despite their active lifestyle, and decided it was time to come home.

Not only for her parents, but for herself, as well.

A ghost of a smile graced Ellie’s mouth as she watched her mother fussing over the food she’d prepared. Ellie had been home for almost a week, and every day her mother had “thrown together” something special for her for dinner. And breakfast, as well as anytime Ellie walked into the house.

She glanced around the immaculately kept home. Nothing was ever out of place. From the crocheted doilies set on the highly polished kitchen table that her father had made when he’d first married her mother, to the cherrywood floors and every knickknack in between, everything was neat and orderly.

Her mother turned toward her, a small smile on her face, “It’s good to have you home, baby. We’ve missed you.”

A wealth of emotion passed along the older woman’s features and Ellie paused before moving toward her mother near the stove.

“Have a seat, Mom. Let me do that,” she said softly. But when she tried taking the plate from her mother’s hand, she was gently, but firmly, moved away.

“You go sit down and tell me how your day went. I told you … I enjoy doing this,” her mother replied. Ellie shook her head, but lifted her cola can from the counter and sat at the table. Her glance went over the table set with silverware. In the middle of the table a basket was filled with bread, a large bowl of salad nearby.

“How’d the first day go? Did you get to talk to the boys?” Leandra Crandall asked, as she went about filling two plates before walking to the table and placing them down. Immediately she walked to the refrigerator and removed a pitcher of tea and brought it to the table.

Running a critical eye over the table, making sure she hadn’t left anything out, finally Ellie’s mother sat down next to her.

Ellie reached over to remove a roll from the basket, her stomach growling. Her mother’s sharp tap on the back of her hand and scowl stopped her from taking a healthy bite. Ellie bit her lip to prevent a laugh at the silent admonishment.

“Oops, sorry, Mom,” she mumbled, and bowed her head as her mother said grace.

Once her mother had blessed the food to her satisfaction, she turned to Ellie, raising a brow.

“What?” Ellie asked, swallowing down a sigh. If her mother didn’t just let her eat, she would scream.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Did you get to talk to the boys?” Leandra asked.

“If by boys, you mean Nate or Holt, the answer would be no.”

“And what about Shilah?” her mother replied, as she began to eat.

“No,” Ellie replied shortly, after a brief pause. When her mother stared at her she felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“What, Ma?” she asked, around a bite of food.

She felt as she had as a child whenever her parents caught her telling a lie. She felt the tips of her ears burn, something that happened whenever she hedged on the truth.

“Hmm,” was her mother’s noncommittal reply, and Ellie’s ears burned even hotter.

After a few moments of silence, Ellie reluctantly spoke. “Okay, so I did run into Shilah. But we didn’t get a chance to talk about the ranch, at least not about my involvement with the USDA.”

“Oh, really? So, if you didn’t talk about the ranch, what did you talk about?” her mother asked, a gleam in her eye. Ellie quickly picked up her glass of tea and took a deep drink.

“Oh, nothing important. Mainly just caught up. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other,” she said with a shrug, forcing a lightness to her expression she was anything but feeling.

“He didn’t bring up the troubles going on at the ranch?” her mother probed.

Ellie inhaled a deep breath, thoughtfully chewing. At that point she would give every one of her advanced degrees to make her mother just drop the subjects of both the Wilde Ranch and Shilah.

“No. Like I said, we just caught up on old times. Hmm, Ma, did you put cinnamon in these rolls? I really have missed your cooking,” she said, smiling.

Although her enthusiastic reaction to her mother’s rolls was feigned, she mentally held her breath, hoping her mother would at least take the hint that Ellie didn’t want to discuss the ranch.

“Hey, thanks again for setting up my office for me, you and dad did a great job.”

“Do you really like it? I didn’t go overboard with all your plaques? As soon as it was official, I couldn’t wait to get may hands on it and decorate,” Leandra said, a smile splitting across her face. Ellie let out a long breath, relieved that she’d managed to shift the topic away from Shilah.

When she’d accepted the job offer from Jasper and Brant, a subcontractor to the USDA, along with it she was offered an office in town, set up with facilities for her to do rudimentary tests on the ranch’s equipment. She’d declined, choosing instead to work out of her father’s office.

Still active, her mother continued to serve as her father’s assistant at his clinic. Her barely lined face belied her age, yet she, as well as Ellie’s father, was in her mid-seventies.

Ellie thought back to her decision to return home, a decision she’d made well before accepting the offer to work for the USDA. She knew that, although she wasn’t sure how long she’d stay here at home, she’d made the right choice.

“Do you think the boys will be okay?” her mother asked. She was pulling Ellie out of her thoughts and managing to drag the subject back to the very one Ellie was determined not to talk about.

She glanced over at her mother and saw her shifting the food around her plate with her fork, a frown marring her otherwise smooth forehead. Ellie placed her fork down and sighed.

“I’m sure they will, Mom. But you know I can’t discuss the case.”

She knew that her mother wanted the best for the men, for their ranch, their shared history stretching back to the days when Ellie’s father and Jed Wilde had been young men. They’d both set out to accomplish goals with odds stacked against them. But Ellie couldn’t discuss the case with her mother, or anyone else, outside of her direct supervisor.

Ellie didn’t want to chance any sort of taint on her investigation, and the best way to do that was to keep the topic away from her involvement.

Her mother reached over and patted Ellie’s hand, nodding her head in understanding.

“You don’t have to say another word, baby girl. I understand. I’m sure everything will work out in the end. It always does.”

“I’m sure it will, Mom.”

As the two women silently finished their meal, Ellie’s thoughts turned to the investigation, and she silently prayed that her mother’s wish—a wish she shared—would prove true and her investigation would lead to clearing the ranch.

Chapter 5

“So, that about sums it up. With this information at least we know where we stand.” Nate paused and glanced around the room. “We have an idea of what we’re up against and a plan to beat it.”

Althea, who stood close to Nate as he briefed the family, leaned over and grasped his hand in hers, squeezing it, giving him an intimate look. Shilah saw his brother immediately turn her way, the hard look on his face gentling, as he pulled her tighter against him before he turned back to face the family.

“The accusations aren’t founded on anything more than rumor and hearsay. Good thing for us that’s all they’ve got going right now. Whoever the hell is behind this—”

“As though we don’t know who the hell that is,” Holt broke in, disgusted, pacing the length of the living room. “We all know Rolling Hills is behind this.”

Nate ran a hand through his short, thick hair and sighed. “Yeah, well, the truth is the USDA knows, as well. There was a leak within Rolling Hills that linked them with the allegations against us. None of that really matters now. USDA has no choice but to investigate all rumors—”

“Then why don’t they go to the source? Stop with all the accusations against us. They know it’s all bullshit, anyway—”

“Because they have to investigate, Holt. They don’t … can’t take accusations of mad cow lightly. It’s something they have no choice but to investigate, no matter what their relationship is with us,” Shilah interjected. “Look, from what you’ve told us it seems pretty clear what our course of action is. We sit back, participate in this investigation and let the truth speak for itself. We’ll be cleared and this will be over.”

It was late and everyone was starting to feel the stress from the long day. Tension was thick in the large family room where they’d gathered to discuss the additional information Nate and Althea had brought back with them.

Although the couple had returned home from Cheyenne several nights ago, this was the first time everyone had managed to get together in one place. Despite their exhaustion from the busy day, all duties had been completed or temporarily shelved in order to deal with the immediacy of their situation.

Nate had been in contact with a friend who worked for the USDA, and several months ago Nate had been told that a slaughterhouse the ranch used had been accused of selling sick cattle. Without the ranchers’ knowledge, the slaughterhouse had been investigated thoroughly, but no animals, including those that came from Wilde Ranch, had shown evidence of the fatal disease.

The matter had been dropped, only to resurface last month when several children had gotten sick from meat, thought to be infected with mad cow, they’d eaten at a fast-food restaurant.

Just the mention of mad cow, particularly after a devastating outbreak that had occurred several years ago, made the USDA know it would be a public-relations nightmare if the rumor leaked to the press.

From his friend, Nate had also learned that the allegation had been lodged directly against Wilde Ranch. Although the slaughterhouse they used had been cleared earlier, because of the fear of public outcry the decision had been made to investigate the meat coming from their ranch, pending an investigation.

“Let’s just be damn glad they didn’t quarantine us,” Shilah said, his tone grim.

“Exactly,” Nate replied, his tone just as somber. “All they have is a rumor and a helluva lot of speculation—”

“A damn lie, that’s what it is,” Holt barked, and Nate nodded his head.

“Yeah, a lie, but a lie that could have gone a long way toward shutting us down. At least we’re given the time to prove our innocence and that a lie is all this is.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And that’s where Ellie fits in,” he said. And at mention of her name, Shilah raised his eyes, narrowed them.

“She’s working as a subcontractor. She’ll be at the ranch, observing the animals for usual signs of the disease, as well as taking blood samples.”

“And how did she become involved?”

“This I don’t know. I’m only glad that she is, not because I expect any favors, but because she is someone we know, someone we trust. Someone we know isn’t in Rolling Hills’s back pocket,” Nate replied.

He went on to inform them that she would be on the ranch over the next several weeks, and that she would have their full cooperation.

“But … despite the fact that we consider her like family, we need to keep it business. Not interfere—no taint of interference can be on this investigation. This has to be legit, up front. This is the only way to squash all the bullshit rumors.”

After speaking, he glanced over at each of them, waiting for everyone’s consent. When his glance landed on Shilah, he saw his brother frown, a look crossing his face, before his gaze moved on.

Shilah pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, feeling his body tense.

“We have to clear our ranch. Our name,” he finished, encompassing everyone in his statement.

Shilah’s glance slid around the room, going to each face. Tension and underlying fear was thick, palpable in the room. Yet, a steely look of determination was on both of his brothers’ faces, as well. The Wilde brothers wouldn’t go down easily.

“I guess you’re right. Ellie’s investigation will not turn up one damn thing wrong with our processing of the animals, or the animals themselves,” Holt said, walking over to Yasmine, looping his arm casually around her shoulders.

“I’ve asked her to come tomorrow and speak to the men. Explain what she’s doing here, and what her role is. I’ve also told the men to give her their full support. Anything she asks for, any help she needs is to be given. And of course we’ll do the same,” Nate finished, and everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

The birds chimed from the antique grandfather clock that stood in the corner of the room, indicating it was now past midnight.

Nate glanced toward the clock before rising, lifting Althea’s hand and facing his brothers. “That’s it, fam,” he started. “We go on with running the ranch, doing what we do—”

“And doing it damn good,” Holt interjected, a grin on his tired face.

“That’s the only way we Wildes know how to do it,” Shilah agreed, and the brothers all shared a look.

As they all began to disperse, Nate called out to him, asking to have a word with him before he left. Nate waited until they were alone before he began to speak.

“Shilah, we need to discuss something.” Nate approached, a worried frown pulling his brows together. Something told Shilah the discussion centered around Ellie.

Although carefully keeping his expression neutral, Shilah wracked his brain wondering how … if his brother had somehow found out about his involvement with Ellie.

He mentally cursed. Hell, talk about jumping the damn gun. He’d only had a one-hour conversation with her and here he was thinking, if only in his mind, that they were involved.

Nate stopped in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest, and stared at Shilah. With his brows together, the expression on his set face confirmed to Shilah that somehow his brother had figured out there was something going on between him and Ellie.

Even though Shilah himself hadn’t figured out exactly what that was, he was damned if he was going to allow anyone to stop him from finding out.

Shilah pushed away from the wall, feeling the muscles in his neck, his entire body, tense as he faced his brother.

“Listen, we need to talk about Ellie.”

Even if that meant going against his entire family.

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