Rough Rider (15 page)

What if this was another mistake?

They were both so different now. Although their shared history still bound them, the old camaraderie was gone. There was a tension between them now. An edge. Even now he was studying her in that unnerving and wolfish way.

She concentrated on scraping the label from the bottle with her thumbnail. It was decision time. She could get up and walk out, or she could take whatever he was willing and able to give. She was so tired of feeling alone…of being alone.

Her heart hammered a rapid tattoo as she looked up and took the plunge. “What if I didn't come for polite conversation?”

“Then I'd say be damned careful what you wish for.” His throat worked on a hard swallow. “You
don't
want to get involved with me, Red,” he warned her. “I'm a fucking mess—inside and out. If you have any sense, you'll get up and walk out that door. Right. Now.”

His words were harsh and self-deprecating, but Janice read the truth flickering in his blue eyes—he was every bit as scared as she was. What were they both so afraid of? It wasn't even their first time together.

No
more
regrets.

Her lips curved into a sad smile. “I don't have much sense. Used it all up, I guess. 'Sides, you might not be getting the best bargain either, cowboy.”

* * *

He stared at her in incomprehension, his mind still reeling at her appearance. He still couldn't believe she'd walked into his life after all this time. He didn't understand her motivation either, but did he really care? He'd done his best to warn her, to chase her off even. He hadn't exaggerated. He was a fucking wreck, one that no sane woman would take on. But here she was, sane or not, and he wanted her with a desire that penetrated his marrow. The same need shone in her eyes, the kind of deep physical, gut-wrenching need that he shared, and the only kind he could fulfill.

He mumbled a stream of curses before hoisting himself to his feet. “Last chance, Janice. I can only fuck things up and make you miserable. It's all I've ever been good at.”

Nevertheless, he offered his hand.

Her brown eyes met his unwavering. “I'm a big girl, Dirk. I think I can take it.”

The softness in those eyes betrayed her tough words. That same softness and vulnerability cried out to him. After six years in the marines, there was nothing soft left in him. He wanted to bury himself in it…in her.

The words had barely left her mouth before he jerked her to her feet. The bottle flew out of her hands to explode in a foamy mess all over the oak plank floor. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was his mouth devouring hers. Her hot, wet tongue tangling with his. The feel of her silky hair in his fisted fingers, the faint scent of vanilla, her body molding to his.

Mutual desire flared instantly. Urgently, obliterating indecision. Supplanting uncertainty with sensation. His mouth came down on her neck, sucking and biting while his hands tore at her blouse. One sound jerk had her pearl snaps sounding like Jiffy Pop. Then his heavily callused hands were on her breasts, fondling, squeezing. He wasn't gentle. But neither was she.

Panting. Groping. She fumbled with his shirt buttons and then gave up, wrapping her hand around the throbbing bulge in his jeans, fondling him through the thick denim with one hand while yanking frantically at his belt buckle with the other. In a frenzy of lust, he guided her body, backing her up to the sofa. “Boots. Off,” he commanded.

Gripping his shoulders for balance, Janice toed off one boot and then the other. He peeled away her blouse. She unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the floor, his gaze following her every move with increasing hunger. Peeking through her lashes, she cupped and squeezed her breasts.

He groaned, then buried his face between them. She was working on his zipper when his mouth closed over her beaded nipple, drawing it into his mouth, alternating between soft bites and steady sucking until she threw her head back with a sob. He released her nipple to nuzzle his way to her other breast, scraping his teeth over her skin. Still kissing, biting, and sucking her breasts, he unzipped her jeans. His hands shook as he stripped them off, peeling them down over her hips.

She stood in just her panties. They were white and edged with lace—simple, but still sexy—much like Janice.

“Take them off,” he said, his throat suddenly feeling full of gravel.

She ran her fingers provocatively along the waistband before sliding them off.

Their gazes met. His need was so bad his eyes were crossing but he had to hear her say it. “You sure about this?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Good. Gimme just a minute.”

He stalked toward the bathroom, flinging open the medicine cabinet and then rifling through every drawer, hoping like hell one of the stock hands had left a condom behind. Nothing.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He went next to the bedroom, cursing another stream of invectives until he found a lone foil packet in the nightstand beside the bed.
Thank
you, sweet Jesus.
But when he finally returned, Janice was curled up in the corner of the sofa, knees against her chest, chewing her thumbnail.
Shit
. He'd taken too long. She'd changed her mind.

“Having second thoughts?”

“No, but…” She bit her lip.

“But what?”

“It's just…I need…I need you to be patient with me, all right?”

Patient? He had a raging erection. His balls throbbed for release. His patience was a fine thread that was damned close to snapping. She was gonna kill him by slow torture.

“It's been a long time for me too,” she blurted, “over four years.”

“Four?” He digested that slowly. “Grady's only been gone for three.”

“That's right. Things weren't good between us, Dirk. Not for a long time…there were a lot of…problems.” She averted her gaze. “You can't understand how it was, and I don't want to talk about it.”

“I tried to warn you about him, but you wouldn't listen. You
chose
Grady.”

“Choice? What choice?” she cried. “My father was dying and I had a business and a ranch to run. I couldn't do it alone. Grady said he'd take care of me. I needed someone, and
he
was there.” Her eyes spoke the rest.
You
weren't.

The unspoken words were like a knife to his gut. His conscience twisted that knife. No, she couldn't have done it alone. Hell, no one could have handled that much responsibility flying solo, let alone a twenty-one-year-old girl. He'd walked away, leaving her vulnerable. He'd let Grady have her without putting up a fight, and Grady had done exactly what Grady had always done. Married or not, he rode bulls, drank, and whored.

Dirk had lived with the guilt over it for ten years. A powerful surge of it hit him now. “I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you then, but I'm damn sure in no better shape now! What the fuck do you want from me?”

Her eyes widened. He could almost hear her jaw click shut. Then suddenly she was on her feet. Dirk watched motionless and wooden-faced as she snatched up her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She reemerged a few minutes later, fully dressed and stomping into her boots. “I don't
want
anything from you and certainly don't
need
any abuse. I thought you were worth it, but maybe you're not.”

Her tearful words ripped through him, making his chest feel tight. The constriction increased the closer she got to the door, until he almost couldn't breathe, but he had no more words. What else could he say? It was all truth. And the truth hurt sometimes.

Nevertheless, he'd never felt so wrong as when he watched her walk out the door.

A week later, Dirk walked into the Pioneer. It was a slow night. Janice had finished wiping down tables and was polishing the glasses. She'd sworn to banish all thoughts of him, but it was much easier when he wasn't standing right in front of her—looking too damn good for her peace of mind.

He wore his town hat and boots with new jeans and a starched white twill dress shirt open at the collar. His scars weren't obvious from this distance and he reminded Janice far too much of the “old” Dirk. But it was time to let go of the past. Maybe the man she'd built up in her mind for so long never really existed…or maybe she'd never really known him at all. She'd expected too much.

He hadn't been there for her ten years ago when she'd needed him. Part of her had understood his reasons. He wasn't ready to settle down. How many twenty-two-year-olds were? But the other part of her resented him for leaving. She'd gone to him last week looking for comfort, for a shoulder to lean on, and he hadn't even offered her that shoulder. She'd beat herself up all week for making a fool of herself over him. She'd sworn when she came home to Montana that she'd move forward with her life. All she could do now was promise herself not to repeat her mistakes—and Dirk Knowlton now topped her list of biggest mistakes.

Although she tried not to acknowledge him, the bartender was in the back taking inventory with the owner. Otherwise, the place was almost empty. Not that it mattered. Dirk wasn't about to be ignored. He sat down on the stool directly in front of her.

“Evenin,' Red.” He tipped his hat.

She wanted to ignore him, but he just sat there watching her, seeming to pay particular attention every time she reached up over the bar to take down or replace a glass, which put her breasts right at his eye level. His blatant interest made her feel nervous and clumsy.

“Do you have to stare?” she finally snapped.

He cocked a lopsided grin. “Can't blame a man for enjoying the landscape. You look good, Red…real good.”

“What can I get you?” she asked tersely.

“Whatever's on tap.”

She filled a mug and plopped it down in front of him.

He closed his hand over hers before she could snatch it away. His smile disappeared. “I came to talk to you.”

“There's nothing to talk about.” She jerked her hand away from his and reached over the bar for the next glass.

“Bullshit. There's a lot that needs sayin'.”

“Like what?” she replied.

“First off, I never should have let you walk out like that.”

She shrugged. “What's done is done. And this isn't the time or the place to hash through it. I'm working.”

“Look, Red, I've been chewing on all this for days. I'm just asking you to hear me out.”

“All right.” He obviously wasn't leaving till he had his say. She dropped her towel on the bar and settled her hands on her hips. “Go on. Speak your piece and be done.”

“I was an asshole the other day.”

“You got that right. What else you got?”

“I wanna make it up to you.”

She frowned. “How?”

“I think we can help each other.”

She held his gaze, her curiosity piqued despite her resolution to have nothing more to do with him. “What do you mean by that?”

“I'm planning to expand my operation as soon as I can get a few details ironed out.”

“Expand? How can you do that when your brother's trying to sell out?”

His expression darkened. “I'll deal with Wade when the time comes. But it's not come yet. I'm not ready to give up. I think I'm onto something that'll turn us around. I just need more time…and some help.”

“You want my help,” she scoffed. “What makes you think I'm interested? You're the one who said men and women can't be friends, remember?”

“I'm sorry how I reacted the other day. And I was afraid you might not be amenable after what happened, but I'm talking strictly business now, Red. You said you came home looking for ranch work, and I need a competent hand.”

He was offering her a job? Janice stared at him in incredulous silence and then answered with a snort. “Let me get this straight. You want me to work for you?”

“Yeah. It makes a lotta sense. I don't know why it didn't occur to me when you came out, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight. I'm sorry for acting like a dickhead. All I can offer by way of excuse is that I had the missing cattle and Allie to deal with, and then you turned up out of the blue. Shit, I didn't know up from down. Can we please just set all that aside and start over?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“It's only part-time right now with weaning and preg checks coming up, but it'll become full-time once the cows start dropping their calves. Since you're one of the best hands I know, I wanted to offer you the job.”

She shook her head knowing this whole proposition reeked of trouble. “I don't know, Dirk. I don't think it's a good idea, you and me working together.”

“Be pissed at me all you like, Janice. I deserve it, but don't blow off my offer so fast.” His blue eyes held hers. “You need work and I need help I can count on. It's as simple as that. Just think about it, will you?”

He seemed so contrite that it would be easy to forgive him, but then again, he deserved to squirm at least a little after the way he'd acted. She propped her elbows on the bar and leaned toward him, giving him an up close and personal view of what he'd so openly admired. She felt a tug of self-satisfaction when he shifted in his seat.

She pursed her lips and then answered noncommittally, “Yeah, I'll think about it.”

Dirk retrieved his wallet and slapped down a twenty and a business card. “Here's my cell number. Call me when you decide.” His mouth kicked up in one corner. “I can't promise you great pay, but the hours are grueling.”

He slid off the stool and walked out before she could give him change.

He hadn't even touched his beer.

* * *

Although Dirk avoided town as much as possible, he'd had no choice but to go in to see Janice. For the past week he'd tried to dismiss her from his mind and just focus on work, but she continued to infiltrate his thoughts. Part of him said to let it go, that it would be stupid as hell to get involved, but seeing her had unbalanced him. He'd thought about nothing but work for so damned long. She'd made him realize just how lonely and isolated he'd become. She was also a painful reminder of all his mistakes and regrets—of everything he didn't want to think about.

But he'd hurt her and he just couldn't live with that. He'd never be able to rest easy until he at least tried to make it right again. That wasn't to say he wanted any romantic entanglement. He didn't. He was way too far gone for that. He could never be what she needed, but that didn't mean he couldn't help her out. So he'd made the offer. The next move was hers.

He didn't have to wait long for an answer. His phone rang before he'd even pulled into his drive.

“Dirk here,” he answered brusquely, not recognizing the number.

“It's Janice.” She paused. “You didn't mention any specifics on hours or pay.”

“You didn't ask.”

“I'm asking now.”

“I'm flexible, Red. Especially on the hours. I'll let you work around your schedule at the Pioneer—at least until things pick up. Right now I have an issue with missing stock. Got some cows and calves that didn't come down from winter gazing, and we've spotted wolves. I got to find them soon—or at least their carcasses.”

“So you want me to hunt 'em down for you?”

“No. I'll do that myself, but I need someone to look after the rest of the herd while I account for the missing stock. There's calves to wean, preg checking on the cows and heifers, and then culling any that are still open. The ol' man can still do some of it, but he's got a heart condition and can't do everything he used to—just don't try to tell
him
that. He doesn't know yet, but Ma's hoping to convince him to spend this winter in Arizona. It's the only thing Wade and I agree on—that it's time for him to retire. The tricky part is gonna be convincing him that it's
his
idea.”

“I can believe that!”

He was encouraged to hear her laugh. It seemed to break the barrier of ice that had built up between them. “So whadaya say, Red?”

“I'd like to give it a try.” She paused. “If you're a bit cash-strapped, would it help if I just came out on my days off?”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “When do you want to start?”

“I'm off for the next two days. I just have to be sure Mama won't mind watching Cody.”

“You're a godsend, Red. I can't even tell you how important it is for me to track down my missing stock.”

“I understand,” she said. “Cattle were once my livelihood too. I'll be there by six.”

“If you can make it by five thirty, I'll cook you pancakes.”

“Pancakes? You cook?”

“Damn straight I do and not just breakfast. If I find my missing cows, I'll grill you the best damn T-bone you ever had in your life.”

“That offer's hard to refuse.”

“Then don't—” He was about to blurt “refuse” and caught himself. Shit. It was too damned easy to forget. He almost believed he could be normal with her.

“Don't what?” she asked.

“Don't be late,” he replied tersely.

“I won't be. I'll see you first thing in the morning.”

Dirk waited for the click that ended the call. He'd told himself he was just helping her out. He really did need a hand, but who was he really kidding? He couldn't wait to see her again—no matter the terms.

* * *

With a nine-year-old son, Janice was accustomed to staying up late and getting up early, but it had been years since she'd set her alarm for four a.m. It was a hellish hour. She dragged herself out of bed with a groan, showered, dressed, and braided her hair. She was glad she'd splurged on the automatic coffeepot. She poured a cup in a tall travel mug before heading out the door in her jeans and boots, grabbing her old hat and the sherpa-lined Carhartt jacket that always hung on a hook by the back door.

It was almost October and the morning air was brisk enough to make her breath visible as she walked out to her truck. She looked out at the surrounding mountains and inhaled deeply, feeling lighthearted for the first time in forever. Until this moment, she'd felt like she was just going through the motions, trapped in someone else's skin, but the prospect of going back to cattle work felt like a real homecoming to her.

Ranch work was what she knew. It was what she'd been born into. It was damned hard. It was downright dirty, but it was what she loved. And it was the life she'd always wanted for her son. Grady had never shared that dream. Sure he'd wanted to raise bulls, but it was all for show, to be the star of the rodeo, not for the lifestyle. Real ranch work bored him. Dirk, on the other hand, was deeply committed to making things work at the Flying K.

He'd surprised her with the job offer, but she reminded herself that's all it was—a job. She refused to let her anxiety ruin everything. This was a business arrangement. There would be no personal involvement. He'd already made his feelings perfectly clear about that. He was simply her new boss.

So why had she agreed to meet him for breakfast? Why had he even asked her? Why was her pulse accelerating and her palms sweating on the steering wheel as she turned into the drive and through the gate of the Flying K? When he'd walked into the bar yesterday he'd been so different from how he was just last week. She remembered his teasing parting remark that had sounded so much like he used to be.

“C'mon, Janice,” she groaned. “Pull yourself together. All you gotta do is go to work, collect your paycheck…and guard your stupid heart.”

* * *

Janice paused outside the door to the old bunkhouse, the knot in her stomach tightening at the memory of how badly the last time had gone. She shook those thoughts off, inhaled a deep breath, and raised her hand to knock, but the door opened before she made contact. Finding herself facing a solid wall of hard male, Janice took a step backward. Her gaze tracked upward into a pair of ice-blue eyes.

“G'morning,” Dirk said. “Didn't mean to startle you, but I heard the truck. Diesels aren't exactly stealth vehicles.”

“No, they aren't.” She gave a nervous laugh. “And mine's in sore need of a new muffler. It's one of many things I've had to put off due to lack of cash, which is also why I'm here.”

“I'm glad you didn't have second thoughts.”

“No, but I don't have much choice. I really do need the money. Then again, the day hasn't begun yet. Maybe I'll hightail it outta here once I've had a good dose of manure and bawling cattle.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you did.” He laughed. “But I suspect this kinda thing runs in your blood.”

Her mouth curved into a reluctant smile. “Yeah. Sadly, it does.”

“C'mon, breakfast is ready.” He stepped back and beckoned her inside. “Hope you're good and hungry.”

Janice scraped her boots on the mat and followed him to the kitchenette. She sniffed the bacon-scented air and her stomach gave an embarrassing growl. “Smells wonderful. I can't recall the last time I ate anything in the morning besides Cap'n Crunch or Lucky Charms.”

“Not exactly the breakfast of champions,” Dirk remarked dryly.

He indicated a chair at the scarred oak table set for two. In the middle sat a plate of bacon and a large platter of blueberry pancakes. Janice sat down while Dirk piled a stack of four pancakes and as many strips of bacon onto both of their plates.

“Cody never touched anything that wasn't sugarcoated until Wheaties put Grady on the box,” she said. “Then for the longest time he wouldn't eat anything else—breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I finally had to stop buying it. I feel a little guilty about that, but I was feeding an unhealthy obsession,” she chattered on nervously.