Destiny Wears Spurs (6 page)

He gave her a pointed look, knowing horses terrified her. Maybe she’d quit, but somehow he doubted it. “In the meantime, you’re to muck out their stalls.” At her blank look, he clarified, “It means you shovel their sh--uh, droppings.”

“I know what it means. I’m just trying to imagine myself doing it.” At her look of disgust, he rolled his eyes.

“The pitchforks are in the tackroom. There’s a wheelbarrow you can use to haul the manure around back to dump it in the wagon. Put fresh hay and water in each stall, but don’t give them any grain. After working all day, they need to pick at some hay and get their digestive juices working before they can handle oats or grain. Okay?”

She nodded.

“When the horses are back, you’ll put their saddles away and rub them down. While you’re waiting for us, you can bottle feed the calf in the last stall. His mama didn’t make it, and none of the others would take him. The bottles are in--”

“A calf? A baby, and I get to feed him?” Her eyes softened, and her whole face lit up.

Cody stared at her. Her look of wonder and awe made him want to kiss her again.
Well, hell
. “If you have any questions, they’ll have to wait until the end of the day, or go find Cassie.” He swung onto Babe’s back in one fluid motion, but reined in when she spoke.

“You’re losing it, buddy,” Cody said to himself as he rode fence. Monica had crawled under his skin and burrowed in deep. The only way he could think to make her keep her distance was to snap at her, since he couldn’t seem to stay the hell away.

He longed to accept the offer sparkling in her incredible doe eyes, but he couldn’t afford to take a chance. He’d confined her to chores on the ranch, thinking he’d be free of her out on the range. Funny thing about that, the longer he stayed away, the more he thought of her. Everything around him reminded him of her. The wildflowers’ sweet aroma smelled like her intoxicating scent. The tall grass blowing in the breeze looked like her crazy head of hair. He got off his horse to give him a break and stood there staring, grinning like an idiot, then he walked into a goddamned tree.

His gaze shot to his men, and his neck heated. He tugged at the collar of his shirt. Had they noticed? If they had, they were wise enough not to comment on it.

Later that morning, he cut the wrong part of the fence ... twice. After lunch, he made his excuses and headed for the ranch. He wasn’t a damn bit of help anyway, so why not confront the source of his problem?

Cody pulled his horse to a halt in the barnyard, only two hours after he’d left, needing a few minutes to think before facing Monica. He told himself he needed to check up on her because he hadn’t given her good instructions on what she should be doing this morning.

Swinging his leg over Babe’s rear end, he vaulted to the ground to unsaddle the stallion and then paused. This would be the perfect time to show her how to take care of the horses.

He tethered his mount to the corral fence and strode toward the barn. As he reached the open door, he peered inside and halted in mid-step. Someone stood doubled over, clutching the wheelbarrow, head hanging low and moaning. Logic told him it had to be her, but he’d never guess it looking at her now.

A thick layer of grime and loads of sweat saturated her baggy clothes. Hell, even her wild hair had been tamed, lying dull and matted to her head. Why she’d worn white when she knew she had barn duty was beyond him. Not to mention, a sweat suit was way too much clothing for such warm weather.

“City slickers.” He grunted. He hadn’t met one yet who had a clue when it came to ranching. A strong breeze chose that moment to carry an earthy scent to his nostrils. Manure.

He scanned the barn and felt a wave of anger rush over him. She hadn’t done a damn thing he’d asked her to, except make twice as much work for him. He ground his teeth.

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Monica flinched as a booming voice echoed off the walls of the barn and blasted her with heat. Only one voice could do that to her. She lifted her head and a pair of black, worn-out boots confirmed what she already knew.

Why now? She looked higher. The sun framed his silhouette and filled the entrance magnificently. Black Stetson, leather chaps, cowboy boots ... Lord, she could eat him up alive. Every time she looked at him, she couldn’t stop thinking about him kissing her. But as much as her eyes drank in the sight of him, he was the last person she wanted to see right then. He wasn’t supposed to be back this early. “Give me a few minutes to finish up, and I’ll join you outside.”

His boot tapped the floor. “A few minutes to finish up?” He stepped into the light and cast a look around the barn. Judging by his frown, he’d noticed the water, hay and manure that covered everything. “Do I dare ask what happened?”

She silently white-knuckle gripped the wheelbarrow.

The muscle in his cheek pulsed, and he took several deep breaths. “Miss Hammond, I asked you a question.” He took another step toward her, his voice low and steady.

She still didn’t move; she couldn’t. “I ....” What could she say? That she stunk at ranching and when she’d tried to ride that crazy horse again, she’d been kicked in the upper thigh before she’d even saddled the demon? Not.

“Say something, woman,” he roared, stomping over and reaching her in four strides. He gripped her upper arms and looked like he was about to shake some sense into her. After a tense moment, he glared instead.

“I can’t, the pain,” she confessed.

Lord, her behind throbbed. As well it should, after yesterday’s episode of doing the slap daddy on the back of his beast, right after performing a really bad imitation of the chicken dance on the back of that demented mare.

He stopped glaring, puckered his forehead, and then his lips parted. “You little fool.” His voice softened, and his grip relaxed. “I’m not a bastard, you know. Why didn’t you tell me you were sore from yesterday? Frankly, I was surprised you weren’t. Come on into my office, and I’ll give you some ibuprofen. That should fix you right up.” He turned and started walking but then stopped halfway there to glance over his shoulder. “You coming?”

“Um, yeah.” She had to try. Letting go of the wheelbarrow, she took one step and cried out as a sharp pain knifed through her upper thigh, bringing her to her knees.

“This isn’t a game, woman. Snoozer may be old and slow, but if you don’t know what you’re doing, you can get seriously hurt.” He stared hard at her leg. “Let me guess. You surprised her from behind, and she nailed you in the thigh.”

Monica felt her ears pulse as warm blood filled her face, but she refused to avert her eyes. She felt like the biggest idiot. If she never saw another pitchfork again, it’d be too soon. She’d pitched the fork, all right. Clear across the barn. She had tried so hard to do this, but nothing had worked right. Then she’d taken a break and decided to teach herself how to ride. Like that had gone any better. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

Apparently, she wasn’t that tough.

Cody stared into her eyes, and she lost the struggle. Twin tears rolled down her cheeks. Darn it. She swiped them away. “I got something in my eye.”

She shivered. The barn seemed cold without him by her side, but a moment later he returned, dragging an alarmingly big hose behind him. “Wh-What are you doing with that thing?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, you stink.”

She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “I see your point, but why can’t you get me back to my cabin and let me shower there?” Air whistled through her teeth as another spike of pain tore through her leg.

“You’re hardly in any shape to shower. Unless you want me to wash your back,” he said, eyes dropping to her breasts, “I suggest you cooperate. Let me hose you off, and then I’ll take a look at your leg.”

“You’re the boss.” He had no idea how badly she wanted to cooperate, but she had to remain professional no matter how well he filled out his jeans. She sighed. “Spray away, and make it cold. I’m dying under here.”

“You should’ve melted by now, lady.” He ran a soapy cloth over her, turned the water on, and then hosed her off. Starting at the top of her head, he worked his way down to her toes.

She felt like a soggy polar bear, but darned if she wasn’t clean enough to eat off. His firm lips captured her attention, and her stomach quivered over the image forming in her head.

Stop it, you nitwit
.

“It’s gotta be eighty degrees outside. What possessed you to wear this getup? Were you trying to kill yourself from heat stroke and exhaustion?”

“It was a little cool this morning.” She’d die if he knew the real reason she’d worn such an impractical outfit. Her worst nightmare came true as her baggy clothing clung to her, revealing everything beneath.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a T-shirt on?” He shut the hose off and grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt. “Common sense should’ve told you to take this off earlier. Let me help you.”

“No wait. It’s not a T-shirt.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need to cool off. Anything’s bound to be better than this heavy getup.” He pulled her sweatshirt over her dripping head.

His jaw grew slack and his eyes bugged, making her squirm. As he tugged the hem out of her sweatpants, he kept staring at her peach, satin and lace, spaghetti-strap nightgown. He finally pulled his gaze away from her puckered nipples and croaked, “Well, this looks familiar. You sure do have a strange sense of fashion.”

“W-With all the flapping I did yesterday, I-I was so sore ... and I um ... couldn’t lift my arms to pull this over my head. My sweat suit ... well, it um ... it was the only thing I had big enough to hide it under, okay?” How did he do that? She was a professional. She was a strong woman.

She was a bumbling idiot.

Irritated he could reduce her to that in seconds, she thrust out her chin and snapped, “Since when did my looks become part of the deal?”

Cody chuckled silently, one corner of his mouth tipping up against his will. Her spirit intrigued the hell out of him. She was the most interesting thing to happen on the ranch in a long time. He looked forward to their verbal sparring matches, but he could tell she needed compassion right now. She tried hard to be strong, but beneath that proud façade lurked vulnerability.

“Look at me.” He pitched his voice soft and low, lacing it with tenderness, and lifted her chin. An involuntary emotion he refused to identify seeped into his voice. “You’re so damned beautiful.”

She looked up at him and whispered, “What?”

Not trusting himself to speak another word, he couldn’t stop his body from ignoring his brain. He pushed her tangled, wet locks over her shoulders and laid his palms against her neck, stroking her jaw with his thumbs. Then he slid them down her throat, until his palms rested on her chest just above her firm breasts.

Her eyes closed, and he felt her breathing quicken at his touch, her heart pound beneath his hand. It amazed him he had this effect on her. What could a city girl like her possibly want with a country guy like him? She might want to roll around in the hay with him, but she’d leave as soon as she found out the campaign proposal she was working so hard on didn’t even matter. Worse, he’d known about it from the beginning.

He cursed silently and moved his hands to safer territory. Letting his fingers slide down the length of her slender arms, he held her hands. They stayed that way for several moments.

It took everything he had to will his pulse to a normal rate, take a step back, then release his hold on her hands and wait. Her eyes fluttered open, glazed with passion, until a confused, hurt look flooded her face. She tried to mask it, and Cody almost gave in. He reminded himself even if she still wanted him after she knew the truth, he didn’t want to be in another serious relationship. Ever.

“Right. Let’s get you out of your wet pants and shoes.” His hands shook as he touched her again, slipping her outer clothing off until she stood in nothing but her nightgown. “Wrap your arms around my neck while I carry you.” He lifted her and cradled her against his chest.