Wrangler For Hire

Wrangler For Hire

Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

Grandma McGinnis had always held to the saying that a man’s eyes were the windows to his soul and Grandma had been a very wise woman. If the adage was good enough for Granny, it was good enough for her.

The setting sun cast shadows on the rider’s face below the brim of his Stetson as he rode toward her. Grandma would have said ‘trouble was a comin.’

Meredith Adams stepped from her car and stood, squinting against the sun that was hanging low over the horizon, trying to discern the features of the cowboy through the dust that her car and the cattle being herded into nearby corral, had kicked up.

The man was riding tall in the saddle and Meredith knew it was the first time she’d seen him at the ranch. Wranglers came and went during branding season, but he wasn’t one her father had hired before. She couldn’t make out his facial features, but since he was heading her way, she walked to the back of the car and waited.

He had broad shoulders that narrowed down to a trim waist where a shiny buckle caused her to hesitate in her analysis of the cowboy. His flannel shirt was open at the neck to display a handkerchief that, no doubt, had wiped off a gallon of sweat during the course of the day. His sleeves were rolled up almost to the elbows, displaying muscled arms that were dark tanned from hours in the sun, arms that looked capable of handling the powerful horse he rode.

Hum. The low sound of approval slid out as her gaze slid down to faded jeans before dropping to his dusty boots. His overall physique was worth looking at, but it dawned on her that she was standing in her yard, gawking at the man as if she were a teenager staring at a rock star.

The thought dragged her attention from him as she turned her head to momentarily gaze toward the corral where several other men were herding about fifty head of cattle into the enclosure. She was thankful that her dark sunglasses were still in place. At least he hadn’t been able to observe just how closely she scrutinized him while he cantered toward the house. He was just another hired hand, another wrangler, like so many to come and go on the Broken-A ranch.

But there was something different about this one, an air of confidence not usually evident in the drifters who worked during the annual roundup and then moved on. Some were cocky, but this guy was different. He appeared sure of himself and obviously comfortable in the saddle.

Meredith stood a little straighter, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses, as she turned to glare at the man heading her way. Her father recently hired eight wranglers to help out for a few months. Some worked long enough to pay off a few debts, some just needed money for gas and entry fees for the next rodeo, but they stayed down by the bunkhouse and never ventured up to the family residence.

Is this guy lost? Her muttered question was soft as a whisper, easily drowned out by the lowing of the cattle milling in the corrals down near the barn.

A gloved finger touched the rim of his black hat as he greeted her. Howdy, ma’am.

Hello. She took her sunglasses off and perched them on her head. Can I help you?

In one fluid motion, he dismounted to confront her face-to-face. Well…almost. He had to be a couple inches over six feet, making her tilt her head back to continue the confrontation.

Yes. He stood staring intently into her eyes without continuing.

She wished she’d left the glasses in place. Yes? Her back straightened just a fraction more as she stood her ground with the stranger.

Sorry, he chuckled. You remind me of someone and my mind got off business, he explained. Your father said to tell you he and some of the men will be watching for rustlers on the west slope for a couple nights, and I’m to take the shift at night to guard the house.

"You mean to guard me, don’t you? She rolled her eyes. When will he realize I’m twenty-five-years old? I can take care of myself," she muttered to herself before she remembered the man was an employee. She refocused on him, her fists jammed against her hips, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

If there’s a problem, I have a telephone and a gun. Either way, I’ll get help if I need it. You don’t have to stay up tonight. Get your rest. If I need you I’ll call or fire off a couple rounds. She dismissed him as she turned, her long dark hair swirling carelessly around her face and over her shoulder as she started for the house.

A large, callused hand snaked out to take hold of her upper arm, abruptly stopping her attempt to retreat behind the safety of the front door.

I don’t think you understood what I said. Sorry, ma’am, guess I didn’t make myself clear.

His deep rumbling voice mesmerized her, drawing her in to listen and lull her into doing his bidding.

This wasn’t a subject that was up for debate. I said I will be guarding the house and that’s the end of it. With a quick two-fingered salute that touched the brim of his hat, he turned on his heels and started back toward the barn, leading the horse by the reins.

Of all the nerve, she sputtered. Who does he think he is? I can probably outshoot him and he thinks I need saving, she told herself as she stomped up the steps and onto the porch. When she entered the house, she slammed the door behind her with more force than was necessary. The resounding bang didn’t change anything, but allowed her to vent some of her anger. Men.

It irritated her further to notice that a fly had slipped in while the door was momentarily open, but since she was in the mood to kill something, the hapless fly became the target. Armed with the fly swatter, she went after the insect with a vengeance until it was nothing but a stain on the kitchen window.

Meredith reminded herself…again, that she was the only child Tyler Adams had and she knew he didn’t want to take any chances with her safety, but the more he tried to protect her, the more it irritated her. She was no longer a child.

Why doesn’t he trust me to take care of myself? She spoke her thoughts aloud as she grabbed a paper towel from the roll by the sink. When she was younger, her dad had taught her to ride, shoot and rope. Now he said young ladies shouldn’t do these things. He didn’t think it was lady-like. Well, think again, Buster, she fumed as she wiped the window with the paper towel. She wasn’t going to stop living just because her father had changed his mind.

As she tossed the soiled paper towel in the garbage her stomach growled. At least supper was easy when the men stayed out on the range. She planned to warm up leftover chicken-casserole and corn bread. With the bowl of chicken balanced in one hand and the cornbread in the other, she stood up and bumped the refrigerator door shut with her hip. When she heard the backdoor bang shut she whirled around to come face to face with the cowboy.

The bowl wobbled, but was able to get it to the counter where she dropped it the last couple inches to land on the marble. Without wasting a second, she whirled to confront the intruder.

What do you think you’re doing in here and why didn’t you at least knock?

I’m here for supper, then I’m bedding down on the couch, he answered in his slow drawling way while he hooked his hat on the peg by the door and dropped a small duffle bag on the floor. And I did knock, but I guess you didn’t hear it over all your mumbling, he concluded as he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms.

His looks were easy on the eyes and his voice was straight out of a steamy romance movie but she was in no mood to appreciate his attributes when all she wanted was for him to leave her alone to have her supper in peace.

Oh, no you’re not, she announced as she glared at him with every ounce of resentment she could muster. Maybe she should be afraid of this broad-shouldered stranger who planted himself in her kitchen, but something told her that he was actually there to protect, not to plunder. Still, she didn’t need a babysitter, nor would she allow her father to assign her one.

Get out of my house.

Sorry, Honey. I take my orders from the boss and since we’re not married, that’s not you.

She heard his words but chose to ignore his pithy comment as best she could even though she felt heat rising up from her chest to engulf her cheeks. You have a lot of nerve for a hired hand. I also can’t imagine my father telling you to eat with me and to ‘bed down on the couch.’

He used his finger to draw an X over his heart. Honest. The slight smile that followed ignited heat in her core that fanned out to warm her arms and crank up her heart’s erratic thumping another notch.

Against her will, her eyes were drawn to his suntanned hands--hands that made her wonder how they would feel if he touched her. She gave herself a shake for allowing her thoughts to wander in such a direction. She needed to stop watching daytime talk shows and weekly serials--and stick to the documentaries.

I don’t have much faith in your honesty. Her snort wouldn’t have impressed her fancy, lady-like mother.

He grabbed at his chest in mock pain, his eyes rolling heavenward. I’m crushed, I’m dying. The woman has scorned me.

She wanted to laugh out loud at his exaggerated antics, but forced her face to frown. Give it up, Buster. I’m not impressed with your theatrics, she announced as she turned her back to keep him from seeing the smile that she couldn’t quite contain. Without thinking, she leaned over to get a skillet from under the counter. Suddenly, realizing the view she was giving this stranger, she stood straight and whirled to face him.

Her frown was back, for real this time. You haven’t left yet? When a slow smile crossed his tanned face, her irritation reached a new level.

Nope and I won’t be. Get used to it. I’m here for the duration.

Duration of what?

Duration of my stay here.

Meredith narrowed her eyes as her lips thinned. She needed Divine strength to help her deal with this pest. Too bad she couldn’t get rid of this one with a flyswatter. When he continued to lean against the counter, she heaved a sigh and gave up. If I can’t get rid of you, I may as well use you.

Now you’re talking, he leered, rubbing his hands together playfully.

To set the table.

Darn. You’re no fun at all, he playfully pouted.

You don’t know the half. Her sigh was deep. Okay, what’s your name?

Ben.

Ben. I remember a story about a bear by that name. Her pensive look melted into a soft chuckle when he scowled.

Don’t kid yourself, Sister. Come on, move it, I’m hungry.

Both of them worked in silence. Meredith worked to avoid speaking to or touching him and Ben worked to brush against her and in general, irritate her at every opportunity.

Listen, Buster, I know for a fact that my father wouldn’t tell you to paw at me, so stop it right now, she told him through clenched teeth. With her booted feet planted slightly apart and her fists on her hips, she spat at him like a rattlesnake. Enough was enough. She was sidestepping him at every turn and he was just too large to constantly avoid.

Okay, he laughed, I’m sorry. I was just giving you a bad time. I was just having a bit of fun.

Meredith stood her ground for a couple more seconds, but when he continued to look contrite, she took her hands off her hips and turned her back on him. She figured he was probably silently laughing at her temper and she didn’t want to give him the pleasure.

Once the food was hot, she poured it into a dish, all the time wondering how he’d wormed his way into her kitchen to help eat her food and give her indigestion. Well, regardless of how things ended this evening, she had to admit he was a handsome devil with a killer smile that would have her best friend, Sarah, melting into a puddle at his feet.

Are we going to glare at each other while we eat, or can we talk? His question seemed friendly enough, but she was wary.

Depends on what you want to talk about.

Why don’t we tell each other about ourselves. You start.

Meredith put the dishes on the table and sat down, eyeing him with suspicion, the same as she would a snake slithering through the grass. Across from her, Ben smiled and waited for her answer.

Her mind was whirling while she put a small amount of food on her plate and passed the bowl to Ben. What was he up to? She finally sighed and relaxed slightly.

Okay. You know my name and age. I can ride, rope and shoot. I can cook, as you can see, and I work part-time for the vet in town. Inclining her head, she waited to hear what this drifter was all about. She made sure to appear uninterested, yet she was as alert as a deer.

I’m Ben Stevens and I’m thirty-four-years old. I can also ride, rope and shoot, but you’d get mighty skinny if you had to eat much of my cooking. I do the canned chili thing when I have no other offers, he grinned, showing perfect, white teeth.

They ate in silence, but she never relaxed. When her food was almost gone, she asked the one question she wanted to know that he hadn’t addressed.

Are you married, Mr. Stevens? She asked the question without looking up from her plate.

Came close a few years back, but slipped the noose just in time. However, if this is a proposal, I accept. Not every gal can shoot and cook both.

Before she considered the consequences, she had smacked her cornbread right in the middle of his chest. A moment of stunned silence hung between them before he burst out laughing and slowly, very slowly, rose to his feet. He was smiling broadly and she knew she’d stepped over a line.

Do you know what happens to little girls who play with their food?

Ben, don’t you touch me, she ordered, also standing and holding on to the table edge as if determined to keep it between them.

She was amazed at how fast a big man could move. A scream echoed in the room as she turned and ran, but she wasn’t nearly fast enough to avoid his large hands. Her arms were pinned at her side almost immediately.

One quick jerk and she was falling back against the hard chest of the big cowboy. When he turned her around to face him, her neck snapped backward as her eyes shot upward to connect with his. Her breaths were coming in quick, shallow pants as she pushed against his chest with both hands.

Meri, you deserve to be paddled, but instead… Meredith shrieked as Ben quickly slipped one arm around her waist and tickled her with the other.

Ben, Ben! Stop that! She was giggling uncontrollably while she squirmed for all she was worth. One minute they were laughing, then suddenly the laughter stopped and they stared into each other’s eyes.

Ben, please stop, she pleaded in a whisper. I don’t know you. We just met.

Panic was making mush of her muscles as Ben loosened his hold and allowed her to pull away.

I’d say I was sorry, but it would be a lie.

Say it anyway and we’ll pretend you’re being honest, she said in a hoarse whisper.

Instead, he turned from her. Let’s finish eating and after we clean up the mess, I’ll make one last check outside before I turn in.

They ate and later cleaned the kitchen in total silence. Each was alone with their thoughts. While Ben was outside, Meredith finished in the bathroom and laid a pillow and bedding on the end of the sofa.

The house was silent as she slowly walked into her bedroom and shut the door with a soft click. She was confused. She had disliked Ben almost on sight, yet a couple hours later she felt empty and alone for the first time since her mother moved out almost ten years earlier. What was going on? It didn’t make sense.

Once in her cotton nightgown, she restlessly prowled the room, coming to stand at her window to stare out at the black trees silhouetted against the dim light from a waning Moon. She stood for several seconds, gazing upward, reminded of countless nights she had wished she could be the girl sitting with the handsome cowboy as they proclaimed their eternal love on a moonlit night. That’s what she got for reading so many romance novels. A huge sigh puffed out as she turned from the window to crawl between the cool sheets. She was still tossing and turning several hours later.

From sheer exhaustion she finally fell asleep, only to wake in the wee hours, wondering if this night would ever end. I give up, she muttered, pushing back the sheet. Meredith slipped out of bed, to again stand at the window and watch for the dawn. Like the old saying about a watched pot never boiling, the same was true for dawn when she couldn’t sleep.

She knew the cattle would raise a ruckus and wake the men in the bunkhouse if she slipped outside for a walk. Besides, all she really wanted was a cup of coffee. The only problem was her guardian angel sleeping on the couch. She decided to wait.

The events of the previous evening were replaying in her mind—making it impossible to settle down. How could she have let it happen? Maybe the real question was, had there been a way to prevent him from barging into her life? She tried in vain to ignore the fact that they had outwardly fought each other, but inwardly they’d been drawn toward the other like a magnet to iron.

What was she going to do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She’d act as if nothing was wrong, treat him like the hired hand that he was, and she’d pretend his touch and his smile wasn’t doing crazy things to her insides. Once the decision was made that she would not allow this man to interfere with anything she wanted, she slipped on a light cotton robe and made her way to the bedroom door. She wanted coffee and she wasn’t going to let him stop her.

After pausing for a few moments to listen, she slipped out and quietly made her way down the hall, through the edge of the living room, and into the kitchen, where she shut the door so she could turn on the light without waking up the sleeping cowboy.

Her fingers barely touched the light switch when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. Even before a scream could erupt from her throat, the steel bands around her arms loosened and she was whirled around.

In the dim moonlight that filtered through the kitchen window, she could barely make out the chiseled features glaring down at her.

You little idiot, he hissed through his teeth. Why are you sneaking around in the dark? I could have hurt you.

You Neanderthal, get your hands off me, she ordered, jerking