Destiny Wears Spurs (11 page)

“Shhh, you’re okay.” She spoke in a hushed tone like she’d heard Cody use on Babe, and rubbed Buggy’s head until he quieted. Dropping to her knees, she examined him closer. He seemed fine, so maybe they could keep this little mishap quiet. Maybe Cody wouldn’t have to find out.

And maybe Wendell was full of crap.

She was getting a little better at her chores, but with the timetable being moved up, she had to kick things up a notch or risk Cody going with another agency. With Wendell breathing down her neck, she couldn’t afford to have that happen.

She took a deep breath and focused, leaning back against the stall gate and pulling out her cell phone. She brought up her list of contacts and dialed the only person who could clear things up for her.

“Monica, you know this business as well as the rest of us. Some things are out of our control. There is nothing I can do about it.”

“What about Nat’s client? Why can’t they be moved up?”

“Essence of Youth perfume won’t be ready until winter. Like it or not, Rafferty’s up. Pull this off in three weeks, and I’ll be convinced you can handle the company. But if you’re not up to the challenge--”

“I can handle it, but next time give me a heads-up, okay?”

“I tried, but
somebody
has her cell phone turned off these days.”

She still believed Wendell was behind the timetable being moved up, but what could she do about it? She couldn’t tell her dad because he wouldn’t believe her, same as always. But she knew someone who could help her.

Her friend, Nat, was dating a detective. A darned good one. He should be able to get to the bottom of things. She flipped open her phone and dialed.

“Great, and could you ask your detective friend to see what he can find about his personal life? I want to know any secrets he may be hiding from his past.”

Thank God she had Nat. Monica snapped her phone closed, happy to let someone else worry about Wendell for a change. She had more important things to worry about. Like putting an ad campaign together in the next three weeks. She took a big breath and then glanced at the calf.

“Break’s over, kiddo. You and I have work to do.” She pulled away from the wooden gate behind her and heard an awful ripping sound. “Crap. Not again.” She sighed. First her white sweat suit, and now her blouse? At this rate, she’d have to replace her entire wardrobe, and she liked that shirt.

She undid the buckles on her overalls, dropped the bib, and then pulled off her top. Turning it around, she winced when she saw the gaping hole smack dab between her shoulder blades, high enough to be seen above her overalls. At least she’d followed Cody’s advice, dressing in layers this time.

Leaving the shirt off, she redid her bibs. When she glanced up, she saw Buggy’s frank look, as if to say it served her right for wearing rayon in the first place.

“Yeah, yeah. So my idea of working at a cattle ranch and reality are a little different.” She studied her gym clothes. “Okay,
way
different, but it’s not like I’m naked.”

The calf blinked at her.

“Well, not exactly, anyway.” Maybe her “layers” were another mistake as well. But he was only a calf, so who cared? She’d finish early and change before the men returned. After all, it wasn’t like anyone else would see her.

* * *

“Worthless piece of shit,” Cody shouted, giving the small, portable dam a hard shove into the stream. When the water failed to back up and overflow, he gave the gadget a vicious kick and then stumbled back, panting.

There were better irrigation systems. Just one more thing he needed to upgrade that had to be put on hold. He ripped off his Stetson and plunged his fingers through his hair, dropping down to rest. If he were truthful, he’d admit his irrigation system didn’t have a damn thing to do with his frustration.

He groaned, stretching out on the grass to stare blankly at the brilliant sky above until his breathing returned to normal. The sweet smell of wildflowers and strong smell of pine filled the air. Crystal clear, vibrant colors surrounded him. A slight breeze helped cool the temperature outside, but it didn’t do a thing to cool his insides. His senses didn’t give a hoot about the beauty around him because they were overloaded with a beauty far more powerful.

A beauty by the name of Miss Monica Hammond.

Scrubbing his palms over his face, he tried to erase her from his mind but only succeeded in reminding himself of dainty fingers with a touch far more gentle than his own, caressing his cheek. His hands stilled. He couldn’t breathe.

When he thought about how her fingers had felt running through his hair, the same streak of desire that had coursed through him then rippled through his body now. He pounded his fist into the ground. “I’ve been too long without a woman is all,” he chanted, wanting desperately to believe it.

Shaking his head, he willed anger to possess his body. Distance wasn’t working, and anger seemed to be the only defense he had left. He rolled to his feet and dusted off his chaps then headed toward Babe, setting his jaw. He was going to put an end to these ridiculous feelings once and for all, dammit.

He reached Babe’s side in a few quick strides, then vaulted onto the horse’s back. Babe responded to the slightest movement of Cody’s thighs, and they were off to another part of the pasture where the men were moving the other portable dams.

Fifteen minutes later, Cody reined in behind a tree and watched. He needed a minute to pull himself together and to cool off before facing his men.

Jake stood and massaged the small of his back with gnarled fingers. “Who-wee, it’s a hot one. What’d’ya say we take us a little breaky?”

“Dangit, boy. Don’t be scarin’ me thataway. I didn’t hear you ride up.” Jake pulled the lemonade from his saddlebags and threw him a knowing glance.

Had they noticed the changes in him lately? Shoot, he knew they thought he’d had sex with Monica, but did they realize he’d been wrestling with wanting more than that from her? “Any problems with the dams working properly?”

“Not a one. We’re almost finished. What’s next, son?”

“Finish up here and then head on over to my end and see if you have more luck than I did. Stupid thing doesn’t work worth a hill of beans.”

“That’s a good one, boss. You had me going. That’d be the day when Cody Rafferty can’t handle ranchin’.” Not noticing Cody’s frustrated scowl, Hank continued with the easy camaraderie between them, reminiscing with Rusty and Jake.

“Ain’t that right, boys? Why, it used to make me jealous as hell, but then I realized I’d rather spend my energy on the finer things in life. Know what I mean?” He wagged his eyebrows twice and flashed his famous lady-magnet dimples.

Jake got swept up in the memories and smiled broadly. “Yep. He’s always been like that. His pa used to say he had the touch, but I always thought he was plain stubborn as a mule. He’d stay up all night, until he figured out what in tarnation was wrong. Doggone it, by mornin’ that sucker would be fixed. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it.”

“Well, you’re both wrong this time. That worthless thing’s a piece of junk. I’ve got more important things to do than waste my time messing with it or listening to you hens squawking about the past like I ain’t even here.” It killed Cody to admit it, but they were right. He’d always been able to fix most anything pertaining to ranching. People came to him for help, not the other way around.

Well, not today. Not since
her!

“Just fix the stupid thing,” he snapped, pulling on Babe’s reins and wheeling around to head out across the pasture.

“Say hi to Mo for me,” Hank hollered behind him. Cody gritted his teeth, listening to their laughter as he urged Babe into a gallop and tried to ride Monica out of his brain. It didn’t work.

A while later, he pulled his mount to a stop outside the barn and inhaled deep to calm his racing heart. Dismounting, he stroked his stallion’s heaving sides. “Sorry, boy. Didn’t mean to run you so hard.” He leaned his forehead against Babe’s thick neck and wondered how a woman--a city woman, at that--had managed to turn his life upside down. He stepped away from his horse and hooked him up to a hot walker. The merry-go-round type device came in handy to cool his horses off when he didn’t have time to walk them out after a hard day’s work. The last thing he needed was for Babe to have a colic attack from being too hot.

Cody patted Babe on the rump to start him walking, and then squared his shoulders and headed for the barn. Just inside the door, he stopped and sniffed. “What the?” He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the barn after working in the brilliant sunshine. He sniffed again. Hank’s cologne? Something nudged him in his back pocket, and he whipped around, ready to attack. What was the calf doing out of his stall?

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, boy.” He tried to lead the critter back to his stall, but the calf stared at him and held his ground. Cody paused and thought of another pair of big brown eyes, shimmering with green flecks instead of gold.

He cursed long and hard. “Looks like she’s gotten to you, too.” He cursed again, only, softer this time. “Is there a single member of the male species who isn’t affected by her?” Cody leaned over to pick up the calf but jerked his head back.

“That’s Hank’s cologne, all right. Whew.” Wrinkling his nose and holding his breath, he picked up the heavy calf and struggled to get him across the barn and dump him in his stall. When he succeeded, he stepped away to gulp some fresh air, then he locked the door, and the calf bawled.

“I know you don’t like it, but you’re not supposed to be loose. Don’t look at me like that. Why’d you have to have brown eyes, anyway?”

Speaking of brown eyes, where’d Monica go? He scanned the barn. The office and tackroom doors were ajar. His eyes widened as the neatness surrounding him registered. “Well, I’ll be damned. The little minx managed to do a pretty good job.”

Considering what he’d returned to yesterday, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. The crazy woman was always surprising him. One corner of his lip turned up, coaxing a reluctant smile. Just when he started to feel as if things were looking up, an awful screeching noise erupted at the other end of the barn. Christ that sounded painful.

Monica.

He ran toward the sound and came to a skidding halt about six feet behind her. His jaw unhinged as he stared in disbelief.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Monica worked the broom back and forth, gathering a pile of dirt from the dark corner of the barn to the center. She stood in front of the open doors that led outside and glanced up, searching the horizon. No Cody.

Tuning in another radio station on Bobby’s Walkman, she cranked it up when a song by some Trace Adkins guy began to play. Loud music brought back nostalgic memories of her teenage years, when she and Natalie would blast the stereo in the car and sing at the top of their lungs. She smiled, remembering.

Monica couldn’t hear herself, but she had a feeling she was way off key. She’d been told she wasn’t any good, but that didn’t stop her from singing, so she belted out something about honky tonks, badabing badabonks. She didn’t get half the words right, and her rhythm was nowhere near perfect as she gyrated to the beat, feeling more like a belly dancer than a country line dancer. But she was having fun for a change, and that was all she cared about right now.

When the song ended, she leaned forward to pull down the bottom of her black spandex workout shorts and then straightened to tug down the bottom of her black sports bra. As she went to sweep the last pile of dirt out the door, one side of her headphones jerked away from her ear.

A deep voice bellowed, “I said, what the hell do you think you’re doin’?” The headphone snapped back into place.

She yelped, flinging both Cody’s extra cowboy hat and Bobby’s headphones as she spun around. Cody loomed over her with his boots spread wide apart and his corded arms crossed over his broad chest. She hopped back a step, and heat flooded her system. “I, um, was singing and, uh, dancing, when you--”