LOVING ELLIE (26 page)

“I’ll just grab my hat,” Burk Lowry said with a nod before heading back inside, the dog trailing after him. 

The other man stepped into the doorway and Lacy found herself staring up at the broad shoulders and muscular arms of rodeo legend Cade Tyler.  Her gaze moved slowly upward, taking in the granite-like expression on his handsome face.

“What can I do for you?” he asked as his dark blue eyes assessed her.

“I..uh...” 

He gave an exasperated sigh.  “Look, lady, if you’re a bill collector you can just get in line for your money.  I don’t have it right now."

She was too caught up in the man’s limb-melting looks to really grab onto his words.  The pictures she’d seen of him on the internet hadn’t done him justice at all.  Cade Tyler was tall for a rodeo rider.  Just over six foot.  Her gaze ran up those long, jean-clad legs to the narrow waist that only served to emphasize his broad shoulders and finely hewn arms.  His eyes were a much deeper blue than she expected.  And where he’d been clean-shaven in all the pictures she’d seen of him, a five o’clock shadow now covered that strong jaw, giving him a ruggedly handsome appearance. 

Lacy sighed.  If one looked Cade Tyler up in the dictionary, they’d find him listed as the walking, talking definition of
HUNK
.

“Pardon me?” 

Lacy stiffened, drawn from her musings by his deep, husky voice. 
Please don’t let me have said that out loud.
  It would not only be incredibly embarrassing, but utterly unprofessional of her to have her assignment think she was ogling him.  Even if she had been.

She straightened, forcing herself back into professional mode, and announced, “Lacy Dalton,
Bustin’ Loose Magazine
.”

A dark brow lifted.  “You’re from that rag?”

She stiffened at the remark.  He’d been perfectly willing to give her magazine an interview when they’d spoken on the phone.  Now
Bustin’ Loose
was a rag?  It was his mood she reminded herself, recalling Burk Lowry’s words.  She had to remain unaffected by his words and convince him to follow through with their agreement.  The money she would make would help pay for her grandmother’s care at the Alzheimer’s care home back in Denver.  And getting her own column with the magazine would help ensure that her grandmother was properly cared for. 

“I’m here as per our agreement,” she explained with a forced smile.

“Our agreement?”

“The one we discussed over the phone,” she prompted only to receive a blank look from the man hovering over her.  “Where you agreed to let me do a story on your life.  About how Cade Tyler, one of rodeo’s best, is living after leaving the circuit."

His expression darkened.  “I did what?”

“You-”

He cut her off.  “I heard what you said, but that’s a flat out lie.  I never agreed to anything.”   

He had the nerve to call her a liar?  She’d just spoken to him two days before to confirm everything.  “Look, Mr. Tyler, I’m not sure why you’ve changed your mind about letting me do the story, but I don’t appreciate your playing games with me.  The least you could have done was call to let me know and saved me the eight hour drive.”

“Lady, you’ve got the wrong man.  I’ve never spoken to you, nor would I ever agree dish out my personal life for the whole world to see.  So you can just go find yourself another has-been.”

“Are you always this personable?”

“Are you always this annoying?” he countered angrily.

It took every ounce of restraint she had not to give the irritating cowboy a piece of her mind.  But getting into a verbal sparring match with him wouldn’t accomplish anything.  She couldn’t force him into letting her do the interview.  But she also couldn’t give up.  Her grandmother was the only family she had left and Lacy wanted to make her remaining days as comfortable as possible.

She fought back tears of frustration. 
Think, Lacey, think.  You need this assignment.
 

“You’re obviously not a man of your word,” she said, determined to hit him where it hurt.  A man’s pride was everything.

“Did they just let you out of the funny farm or are you hard of hearing,” he asked with a deepening frown. 

“Excuse me?”

“For the last time, you and I have never spoken on the phone.  Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ve got work to do."  He grabbed his hat from just inside the door, slapped it onto his head and started past her, the screen door banging shut behind him.

Lacy spun around, watching him go.  “Do you know what I think?” she called after him.

“No, and I don’t care to,” he replied over his shoulder.

Don’t say it
, an inner voice warned.  “I think you landed on your head one too many times during your rodeo days.  That’s what I think!”

Cade Tyler stopped dead in his tracks and then turned to face her.  Fury lit his eyes as he moved toward her in long, angry strides.

Lacy took a step back only to find herself up against the screen door.

“It’s not her fault,” a voice said behind her, making her jump.

“What do you mean?” Cade asked, his steps halting.

Lacy moved aside, grateful Burk Lowry had chosen that moment to return.  It took a moment longer for his words to sink in.  But the moment they did she repeated Cade’s question.  “What do you mean?”

The screen door swung open as he stepped out onto the porch, guilt written all over his face.  “I did it.  I was the one who talked to Ms. Dalton on the phone.”

She gasped.  “That was you?  You said you were him,” she added, pointing at Cade.

The lanky cowboy shrugged.  “A little white lie.”

“Little hell,” Cade growled as he moved up onto the porch to join them.

“Look, Cade,” his ranch hand said, “the business needs the publicity this story would bring us.  We haven’t been able to afford the advertising we used to and
Bustin’ Loose
has a huge circulation.  This interview could turn things around for the Flying T.”

Cade’s expression darkened.  “I have no intention of standing here discussing my financial situation in front of this...” He turned to Lacy, his discerning gaze moving over her, “rag writer.”

“Rag writer!” she exclaimed, but the two men continued on as if she weren’t even there.

“I know how you feel about reporters,” Burk replied.  “But your stubbornness is going to cost us the opportunity to keep this place from running into the ground.”

“No more,” Cade said through tightly clenched teeth.  “We’ll finish this discussion later."

Lacy sensed a storm brewing and it wasn’t the one that had followed her into town.  

“Damn it, Cade—”

“Not here,” came the final warning.  “And not now.”

Burk turned to her.  “I’m real sorry to have wasted your time, Ms. Dalton.”  That said the ranch hand stalked off toward the barn.

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered.

Cade muttered a curse as he turned back to the angry young woman who stood on his porch, clutching her briefcase so hard her knuckles had turned white. 

“It seems
we
owe you an apology,” he said with a glance in his friend’s direction.  “I’m sure Burk meant well, but he was out of line.  The decision wasn’t his to make.  And I’m not interested.”

Her mouth moved as if she wanted to argue the point, but snapped shut just as quickly.  Her cheeks were flushed with anger, her amber eyes flashing.  She looked like a volcano ready to erupt and he and Burk were right in line of the lava’s flow.

Even that didn’t keep the words from leaving his mouth.  “I don’t like reporters.”

“You don’t have to like me,” she said stiffly.

“I’m real sorry he wasted your time coming here.” 
And mine.
  “Burk should have known better.”

“That’s it?” she replied with another gasp, making no move to leave. 

She was a stubborn, little thing.  He’d give her that much.  “There’s nothing else to say.  I have a fence to repair, hopefully before the rain lets loose.  And a ranch hand to fire apparently.”  Not that Burk would pay that much mind.  The man was a permanent fixture in Cade’s life.

“Busy man,” she said, her tone as bristly as a porcupine.  But damn if the little blonde wasn’t sexy when she was all fired up.  A thought he quickly pushed from his mind.

“I’ll see you to your car.”  He pressed a hand to the small of her back and ushered her toward the steps, trying to redeem himself for his earlier lack of manners.   

She stopped suddenly, letting out a high pitch squeal as one of her heels sank into a groove between the weathered floorboards. 

He hooked an arm around her waist to steady her.  “Why women risk breaking their necks on those things I’ll never understand,” he muttered with a frown.  That was all he needed, her breaking an ankle on his porch and adding a lawsuit to all his other financial problems.

She jerked free of his hold and spun around to face him.  “I could say the same thing about you and your bulls.”

His gaze was drawn to the honey blonde strands that had settled over one shoulder when she pulled away.  He found himself wondering if they were as soft and silky as they looked. 

“I don’t ride anymore,” he muttered, irritated by the thoughts her presence evoked in him.

“Maybe not, but you still have a business connection to the rodeo.  And the publicity a story in
Bustin’ Loose
would give you could bring in a good deal more business.  And that, Mr. Tyler, would help ease things for you financially.  Please reconsider doing the interview.”

Maybe it would, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to swallow his pride to feed a bunch of vultures.  Cade whipped off his hat and dragged a hand back through his thick hair.  He wasn’t going to fire Burk, he was going to kill him for even putting him in this position!

Dragging in a deep breath, he attempted to calm himself.  Then, forcing a smile, he said, “Surely you’ve got better stories to cover than a has-been rodeo rider.  I don’t have the fame and fortune your readers thrive on.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Tyler, you’re still news.”

The woman was just plain stubborn.  “News or not, I’m not doing any interview.  I’ve had my fill of publicity.  Especially, the kind you reporters thrive on.”

The news media had taken his wife’s death and turned it into a media circus with all sorts of speculations as to what had caused her to go off the road that day.  Rumor was that Karen had found out he was having an affair and was so distraught over the news she lost control of her car and went off the road.  They were wrong.  There had been no other woman.  Ever. 

Lacy Dalton shifted her briefcase to her other hand.  “You mentioned that you’re short-handed.  How about we make a deal?”

He raised a brow.  Had she made mental notes of everything that had been said?  Lord, he hoped not.  “What kind of deal?”

“You let me do the story with the agreement that you can approve it before I turn it in to my boss.  In exchange I’ll work for you.”

“You’ll what?”

“Work for you,” she repeated with a smile.  “While I write about your life, of course."  She reached out to touch his arm, her beautiful whiskey colored eyes pleading as she looked up at him.  "I need this assignment, Mr. Tyler.  I’m more than willing to work for it and according to Mr. Lowry you’re shorthanded right now."

Pretty or not, she’s a reporter. 
Cade pulled away, distancing himself from her soft touch.  “Have you ever worked a ranch Ms. Dalton?”

“Well, no...”

“I didn’t think so.  So let me make this clear.  I don’t take on people who have no ranching experience.  And I don’t hire women.”

She opened her mouth again, no doubt to lay into him for being what she saw as chauvinistic, but he held up a hand to stop her protest.

“Before you go getting all wound up, there’s a damn good reason why I don’t hire women.  My bulls are mean.  They’re bred to be that way.  The meaner they are the harder they buck, and the more a company will pay me when they rent them for rodeos.  We men have enough trouble handling them as it is.  So give up and go home.”

She looked on the verge of tears. 

Lord, he hated to see a woman cry.  Especially knowing he was the one who’d caused them to.  “Try and understand, I don’t want anyone writing about the Flying T, or me for that matter.”  His gaze swept across his property, then back to her.  “The Flying T has turned into a shadow of what it used to be.  And so have I.”

Hope flickered to life in her eyes.  “All the more reason to do this interview.”  

“What’s in it for you?” he asked, his gaze moving over the fitted jacket and curve-hugging skirt she wore.  “You don’t look like you need the money.  Nice clothes.  Fancy car.”

“I have my reasons.”

“As do I.  You and I both know there are plenty of other ex-rodeo riders who would be glad to have you interview them.  Just not me.  And you can tell your boss I said so.”

All he wanted was for her to go away.  He had more than enough on his mind without her adding to it.  Or at least there were things that
should
have been on his mind, not some troublesome female with lips that tempted him to kiss their pout away.