Between Hope & the Highway (20 page)

I grinned at her lame attempt at
humor.

She mounted Moonshine and walked him around the arena. Catching up to her. I slowed Yoda’s pace so he wouldn’t bite at her mount in a display of dominance.

“I’ve been thinking it’s ridiculous for me to be your boss,” she said. “You know way more than I do.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You have a gift I don’t. Sure, horses like me, but they like anyone with half a brain in their head and a sugar cube in their hand. You, though, are like a horse siren. When you speak, they listen.”

She snorted like she had in church the other day when I inadvertently said “Yeah” to that Trina-girl’s comment about looking hot. I hadn’t really been listening to the silly woman. Until Liz snorted, I didn’t register how arrogant I’d come across.

Her index finger shot out at me. “Don’t say a word.”

“My lips are sealed, Miss Snort-boss.”

“You’re impossible,” she huffed. “But seriously, I’m going to talk to your dad about sharing responsibilities.”

“He’ll never go for it.”

“I know you and him don’t get along, but you could prove to him that—”

“I’m not proving anything.”

“But you’re so good with—”

“Drop it.”

As she led Moonshine to his stall, I untacked Yoda. Silence felt awkward between us. She’d tried to do me a good deed, and I’d thrown it back in her face.

“Really, I’m content with how things are.”

She latched the stall. “Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. I’m more than willing to step down and let you take charge.”

“That isn’t your call to make.” I locked up Yoda and joined her at the tack room.

She pursed her lips. “I never set out to be your boss, you know? When you returned, I feared your dad would fire me since he had you.”

“That’d be the day. Dad has never needed me.”

As she studied me, I noticed golden flecks in her brown eyes.

“I don’t believe that. You obviously clash like brass cymbals, but I can tell he loves you very much.”

“That’s girl talk.”

“Good. Because last I checked, I’m a girl.”

I allowed my gaze to drop to her chest and legs. “Oh yeah. You’re definitely all girl.”

She punched my shoulder. “Stop it.”

“What? I’m just making an observation. Chance is definitely going to ask you out one of these days…and then maybe you’ll experience that snap, crackle, and pop I keep talking about.”

Her giggle kept replaying in my head long after we parted. It was adorable, but so were bunnies, and I’d shot my fair share of them in my younger days. Maybe I needed to take Damon to town and shoot Liz out of my head. There were plenty of women in town who’d be happy to see me and help me forget my troubles. No sense being tempted by my boss…even if she was cute.

Chapter 33

Liz

Breakfast was a quiet affair. As I chewed on a bite of bacon, not really tasting it, I knew I’d reached a new low. When you don’t taste something as delicious as bacon, you might as well be dead. My mind kept hiccupping Rawson; and like real hiccups, I couldn’t make him go away no matter how many strange internal rituals I attempted.

Grabbing my glass, I downed some milk to wash that man from my thoughts. But my mind hiccupped again, recalling how easily we’d gotten along the last couple weeks, giving me high hopes for the future. We complimented each other and had made great strides in training several of the harder horses…even Shooter.

“Can you pass me the muffins, Liz?”

I mechanically transported muffins to my boss at the head of the table as my mind stewed on how to deal with his son. Rawson had shown up hours late for work the last week and had skipped out completely this weekend. I couldn’t keep covering for him. Eventually, Mr. Law would notice.

Gulping down my milk, I stood. “Thanks for breakfast, Charity.” I turned to pat Benny’s back. “See you later.”

“Count on it,” he said through a mouthful of muffin.

I slipped out the door. As I crossed the pasture, I hiccupped Rawson again. Two weeks ago, I’d wanted to make him my partner. Today I seriously considered filing a complaint about him to Bart.

Grabbing a broom, I began sweeping the aisle between stalls when my inconsistent apprentice showed up to annoy me.

“Hey,” he called from the other side of the arena, sounding out of breath, “sorry I’m late. I got here as fast as I could.”

He disappeared into the tack room as I guided Whiskers in a circle.

“Which horse do you want me to get?” he shouted.

“Taco Twister.”

When he swore, I smirked. Rawson couldn’t stand the two-year-old dun. The magnificent gelding possessed no focus…kind of like him. Maybe that’s why I derived such perverse amusement pairing them together.

I expected an argument, but Rawson marched to Taco’s stall and started tacking him up. He worked like his life depended on it, and in a way, it did.

When I heard the lunch bell, I led Whiskers out of the arena, but Rawson stopped me.

“Tie him to a post. I’ll finish with him while you eat.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Nah. I’ll work through lunch since I started a little late.”

“Three hours is more than
a little
.”

His Caribbean blues appraised me. “Sorry. I promise—”

“Please don’t make any more promises.” No way would I let him sweet talk his way off my bad list.

He ran a hand through his hair. “My friend needed help. I couldn’t leave him alone. Let me make it up to you. How about we take Shooter and Taco out for a picnic.”

“I’m already behind.”

“Those two need time in the saddle. It’ll be a working lunch, except more pleasurable.”

“What would be more pleasurable is if you’d get your sorry butt to work in the mornings instead of—”

“I know. I’m really sorry, boss.”

I hated when he tossed that word around. His startling blue-green eyes crinkled at the corners, working their magic on me.

“Okay, I’ll give you one last chance to redeem yourself. You better pack a mean lunch. I’ll saddle the horses.”

He saluted as I brushed past him. “You won’t know what hit you, darling.”

“Wash that taunting grin off your face.” I didn’t look back as he laughed because I feared a smile might escape. Why did he have to be so dang funny?

By the time I had the horses saddled, Rawson returned with a backpack loaded with food. He mounted Taco Twister and leaned down to say something in his ear. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. As I climbed onto Sidekick, Rawson winked at me.

“Stop staring.” I urged Shooter into a trot and headed for the foothills.

“Why? The view’s nice.”

“You’re such a liar.”

He caught up to me and grabbed my reins. “Hold up. Why do you always accuse me of lying when I’m only telling the !@#$*!”

I covered my ears as he used the Lord’s name in vain. “Please don’t use His name that way.”

“What?”

“I hate how dirty I feel every time you open your mouth, especially when you use God’s name as if it was worth less than an inflated Mexican peso.”

“Fine. Let’s make a deal. I won’t swear around you if you stop thinking you’re plain and deficient around me.”

“I don’t think I’m deficient. And who uses words like that anyway?”

He chuckled. “I have to put my college education to use. And you do think that. You gave me a whole list of deficiencies on the drive to Bozeman that one time, and just now you accused me of lying when I said you looked nice.”

I squirmed in my saddle. “Give me my reins.”

“Not until you make the deal.” He switched them to his left hand and stuck out his right. “Shake on it.”

I rolled my eyes, but gave him my hand. A pleasant, sizzling sensation rattled me as we made contact. The horses bit at each other as Rawson squeezed my fingers, shooting fiery pulses up my arms.

“Tell me three traits you love about yourself—a love triangle.”

“Why?”

“We made a deal. The
Love Triangle
game is how I’ll know you’re keeping your end of it. You can hear whether I’m keeping mine, but I won’t know if you’re listing deficiencies in your head. So tell me three things you love about yourself. You have ten seconds. If you can’t do it, I’ll pull out the big guns and let you hear the names I call the cattle.”

“That’s stupid.” I pulled my hand from his to regain equilibrium.

“Ten…nine…eight…”

“All right. Shush. I can’t concentrate if you’re counting.”

He held out his hand and dropped a silent finger for each number. As he lowered the second to last one, I pushed his hand down.

“I like my hands.”

“Your hands?” He grabbed mine again. “Me too. They’re graceful and soft…very soft.”

I yanked out of his grip. “They’re calloused and scratched up more than a cat tower.”

“Damn it, Lizzie. You’re not supposed to tell me deficiencies.”

I puckered my lips. “Okay. I like my hands because they’re calloused and scabbed. Are you satisfied?”

He grinned. “That’s one. Give me two more.”

“You cussed. Deal’s done.”

“I cussed because you lashed out at yourself. Fair’s fair. You tell me a negative, I’ll throw out an ear-scorcher. Now hurry before I lose my patience. You’re as infuriating as a heifer.”

“Did you just call me a cow?”

He had the gall to laugh. “No. I likened you to a heifer. Big difference. A cow has had calves. A heifer has not. Therefore, as a single adolescent female, you would not be a cow…unless you had a teen pregnancy and gave up a child for adoption I don’t know about; in that case, you’d be a first-calf heifer.”

I scowled. “Don’t ever call a woman a cow
or
a heifer…or you would be a first-class idiot.”

He slapped his leg. “Good one. But you’re stalling. Stop chewing your cud and tell me a second thing you love about yourself.” He walked Taco ahead, which was good, because after that jab I wanted to kick him.

Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the man ahead of me.

“Seriously, Liz. You’re acting like I asked for the mysteries of the universe. You’re a beautiful, talented woman. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Be quiet. I’m thinking.”

“I hadn’t thought this was any kind of a challenge.”

“Um, I can whistle?”

His lips twitched. “You asked that like a question. I don’t know. Can you whistle?”

The man could be so irritating. Sticking two fingers in my mouth, I produced an ear-piercing whistle that startled Shooter into a trot.

Rawson hooted and clapped when he caught up to me. “That was incredible. You’re definitely a master whistler.”

I chewed my bottom lip as I pulled on the reins. “Mom says it’s not very ladylike.”

“He….ck.”

His
almost
swearing made me smile.

“I disagree. Whistling might be the sexiest thing a woman can do. I’m not saying you should haul off and whistle in church or at a swanky black tie event, although it’d sure liven those venues up, but I see nothing wrong with you whistling anywhere else. In fact, it’s a huge turn-on.”

I reached over to slug him. “Liar.” As his eyes narrowed and he raised a chiding finger, I huffed. “You are! Men want big boobs and curvy bodies. They like girls who drape themselves all over them and giggle at whatever stupid thing they say. They don’t care about girls who can whistle. They just laugh at us behind our backs…or tease us to our faces like you do.”

“Wow. Someone’s done a number on you. All right, you’re being honest. So will I. Yes, as a man, I want boobs and curves, but they don’t have to be big. In fact,”—he dropped his gaze for a moment—“small and perky might be my favorite.”

I gasped and tried to block my chest behind my arms.

He smirked. “As for giggly girls, I disagree. I like girls to be real. There’s nothing more annoying than some ditzy blonde like that Kelsey from Kentucky hanging on me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Finish the triangle. Tell me something you really, really love.” He reached down to pat Taco’s dark coat, giving me time to reflect.

“Uh, I like my ears?” It came out like a question again. I shook my head. I knew I didn’t have Dumbo ears. Mom would’ve told me if I did.

Our legs touched between the horses as Rawson reached out to finger my ear. “They are lovely. Perfect for nibbling.” Heat flooded my body as his gaze zeroed in on my neck and slowly traveled back up to my face. What did he mean by nibbling? When he leaned closer, I swatted him.

“Stop it. I’m your boss.”

He snapped out of his trance and straightened in his saddle. “You know, I was ticked at first that Dad put you over me, but if I have to work under anyone, I’m glad it’s you so I can see your perky chest.”