Winning the Cowboy's Heart

by Karen Rock

  As soon as the pickup disappeared, their smiles whisked off their faces. Justin’s mouth twisted into a snarl. Cole drummed thick fingers on his cast arm.

  James sauntered over to Heath. “Nice act, but we’re not your family.”

  “Your ma says so,” Heath countered. A cattle dog joined the children. It raced around the perimeter—barking madly—but Heath whistled, and it came bounding up to him. “Down, girl.” He tousled her mane affectionately, and she gave a resigned whimper and curled herself at his feet.

  “Let’s keep a couple of things straight.” James planted his boots wide. The remaining Cades and Lovelands crowded close. A flashback to their softball game pileup last month had Jewel bracing. “One. Jewel is here only because of Ma, not out of any sense of kinship with you. Right, Jewel?”

  She struggled to nod under Heath’s keen stare. James was right. She’d never volunteer for any other reason...the way Heath’s T-shirt stretched across a well-defined chest and a toned stomach—the kind of stomach that put six-packs to shame, notwithstanding.

  Lordy, he was one beautiful, brawny cowboy.

  “We already figured that out, genius,” Cole uttered with infuriating calm.

  Heat rolled off Justin in waves. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because whenever anyone needs help, Cades usually just throw money at it.” Scorn darkened Cole’s accusation.

  Jewel opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. Her family gave generously to local charities, whereas the Lovelands gave their time, always the first to arrive when someone needed aid. Then again, time and a pair of hands was all they had to offer since, as her grandmother would have said, they didn’t have two nickels to rub together.

  “At least we’ve got money to send,” Jared insisted.

  “Money you’ve made for a hundred years while denying our easement to the Crystal River.” Fury dripped from Darryl’s words.

  A vein started to protrude from Jared’s forehead. “The one taken away after your cattle trampled our property and bred with our longhorns?”

  The shouts of the playing children filled the sudden, tense silence. Daryl’s daughter was spinning under a dogwood tree, her head tipped back and her arms flung out. The boys raced each other to a fence post and back.

  If only life could be that uncomplicated again...

  “Lie,” Daryl charged. “Your ancestor’s brother judged the case instead of recusing himself. He stole it from us.”

  James shrugged. “Then why didn’t your family appeal?”

  “Our family wouldn’t have had enough money to pay for a lawyer.” Heath pulled off his hat and damp strands of dark hair clung to his temples. “Driving cattle farther to reach the Crystal River means herd depletion. Loss of revenue.”

  Jared made a sweeping motion with his hand. “How do you have enough money to hire a lawyer now?”

  “None of your business.” White appeared around Cole’s clamped lips.

  Sierra gave an exasperated huff. “Our attorney’s taking twenty percent.”

  “Of the five million you’re suing us for in damages?” Jewel demanded, dragging in air too fast.

  “That’s right,” Heath said evenly.

  “You’ll never win.” Justin’s boots crunched on the driveway’s gravel as he paced.

  Cole stepped in front of Justin, blocking his way, and leaned down so the tips of their noses nearly touched. “Guess we’ll see next month.”

  Another silence fell, this one heavy and muffling, like a blanket. Heath shot Jewel an inscrutable look, then waved his hands. “Let’s leave this to the lawyers. For now, we’ll honor our promise to our parents.”

  “I didn’t promise nothing,” spat Justin, eyeball to eyeball with Cole.

  “Me neither.” Daryl puffed his broad chest.

  “Daddy, how come you’re so mad?” Daryl’s little boy, Ned... Nick...no... Noah looked up at his father with a worried frown.

  Daryl’s tense expression softened when he glanced down at his child. “I’m not mad.”

  “You look mad,” asserted his daughter, whose name started with an E... Emma. “And the Cades are nice. Javi and I are BFFs.” She looped her arm through Javi’s.

  “I don’t like girls,” Javi added, the innocent comment diffusing the tension as smiles and muffled snorts circled the group. “But she’s my cousin—her and Noah, right, Pa? More family is always good, isn’t it?”

  James studied his son and shook his head. “Guess kids can teach the adults now and again. Let’s go.”

  One by one, Jewel watched her family leave, exchanging waves or hugs. Cole, Sierra and Daryl strode away next. Only then did it hit her. She’d be living in enemy territory, around the clock, as the extra ranch hand they needed for an outfit of this size. Sure, her ranch was only five miles away, but it might as well be light years in distance from the family, the only home, she’d ever known.

  “Where’s your gear?” Heath asked.

  Jewel nodded at her stallion, Bear. His black tail slapped at flies beneath the poplar she’d tied him to. “In the saddlebag.”

  Heath cocked his head. “What about the rest?”

  “Rest of what?”

  “Clothes? Toiletries? Girl stuff...makeup?”

  Her face scrunched. “I brought a comb, a toothbrush and toothpaste. Deodorant. Underclothes. I’m assuming you have soap and laundry if my jeans need a scrub.”

  “Won’t you want to spiff up every night? Change outfits?”

  She scowled at him. “Cowgirls don’t ‘spiff up,’ we dust off. And do I look like I care about outfits? Makeup?”

  The intensity of his close stare nearly rocked her back on her boot heels. “Guess I thought, like most women...”

  “I’m not most women.”

  “I can see that.”

  She jammed down the rising sense of not measuring up, untied Bear and led him around. “Where can I stable him?”

  “This way.”

  She followed Heath to the rear of a well-kept barn. The smell of fresh manure drifted through an open window. Inside the lofted space, they traveled across creaky, straw-littered floorboards. While its finishes were outdated, the water system hand-pumped, the horses appeared well cared for in roomy stalls.

  After settling Bear and feeding him his favorite treat—apple-flavored licorice—she threw her arms around his neck. “Don’t be scared, Bear,” she whispered. “This is just temporary.”

  He nickered, and she released him to join Heath at the other end of the barn. He waved her into a small room where he’d spread Loveland Hills’ survey map on a desk.

  “Here’s where we’re driving cattle today.” He pointed out a spot.

  “The calves have all been vaccinated?” At Cade Ranch, they didn’t go to pasture without protection.

  “Yesterday.” Heath leaned over to smooth a folded map corner, and his arm brushed hers. The brief touch, in this intimate space, did something funny to her knees, softened them somehow so they dipped slightly.

  She propped a hip against the desk to keep her feet under her...to battle the irresponsible urge to lean closer to him. “Us, too. Are they weaned?”

  Heath shook his head. “Shots are stressful enough. We don’t separate them.”

  “We don’t, either.”

  “Huh.”

  “Huh.” Their eyes clung for a moment, and she noticed a thin band of black surrounding his brilliant blue irises.

  When Heath cleared his throat, she remembered to breathe. “Anyways. I’ll need you ready to go in an hour.”

  Jewel peered at their destination, noting the coordinates, the elevation. “We can’t go there.”

  Heath frowned. “Why not?”

  “It’s your southernmost point...the most exposed to the drought. I bet forage sorghum grows there, right?”

&n
bsp; “Some sorghum, but mostly ryegrass.”

  “But sorghum is hardier in extreme weather,” she countered. “There’ll be more of it.”

  The beginnings of a crease developed between Heath’s eyebrows. “What if there is?”

  “We’ve never had a drought this bad. Extreme dry weather causes prussic acid to build up in sorghum grass, which will weaken the cattle. It slows their ability to take in oxygen, might even kill some.”

  Heath rubbed the back of his neck. “And you know all this because...”

  Outside the office, the horses nickered and shifted in their stalls. “I read. Go to conferences.”

  Shock splashed across Heath’s face. “You read about cows.”

  One shoulder rose. “Yeah—so?”

  “Took you for more of an outdoorsy type than a bookworm.”

  “Who says you can’t be both?” Her shoulders shot up, nearly reaching her ears. Why did everyone want to put her in a box? If life was a road, then shouldn’t you be allowed to change lanes? Take detours?

  He stared at her for a long moment and nodded. With his vibrant eyes and near-heavenly features, he looked like she imagined an angel would. He had cheekbones and a jaw you could cut glass with, a face any artist would die to sketch—or touch. And those full, expressive lips were parted. “Look, the Lovelands have been driving cattle in this pattern for over a hundred years. We always start here. It’s how my father wants it done.”

  “He’s not here. You are.”

  A muscle feathered in Heath’s jaw. “And I’m doing it Pa’s way.”

  “Don’t you ever just do what you want?”

  He stilled, his expression as shuttered as any Loveland’s. Yet something in the corners of his eyes, a darkening, a creasing, betrayed his discontent. Was he dissatisfied with his life? Impossible. Soon he’d be married to the daughter of a wealthy family, about to have it all, respect, money, prestige.

  Whereas she...she’d continue being just another hand on her family ranch if she didn’t get the range boss job.

  She must have made a noise because Heath’s gaze lasered into her. Sparks of electricity crackled from his deep blue eyes. “Let’s get something straight. I call the shots.”

  Their breaths came a little faster, harder, as they stared each other down. “Still doesn’t make you right about the pasture,” she snapped. “I’d make a better range boss.”

  “Then why aren’t you Cade Ranch’s range boss?”

  Her heart throbbed like a giant open wound. She willed away the sting of his words and pressed on. “James promised to give me the job if I proved myself this summer. Since I’m stuck here, I’ll prove it on Loveland Hills instead.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I challenge you.”

  Heath’s frown deepened. “To what?”

  “To prove who’s the better rancher.” She gestured between them. “Cade versus Loveland.”

  “We’re on the brink of foreclosure,” he responded in clipped tones. “I’m not playing games or keeping score.”

  Jewel picked up a pen and clicked the tip in and out. “I’m not playing, either, but I will be keeping score.” She dropped the pen and peered up at Heath. “And I intend to win.”

  Heath made a quick, sharp, shaking-away motion with his head. “Play whatever games you want but know this... I’m in charge of everything on this ranch, including you.”

  Her fingers curled in, nails biting into her palms as anger flushed through her system, hot and bitter. Oh, the terrible, crushing, breath-stealing burden of people who thought you didn’t measure up. “You’ll never be in charge of me.”

  “We’re doing it this way, end of story. Be ready to head out in an hour.” He turned on his heel, strode away, then paused in the doorway. “I’m the range boss. Not you.”

  He tossed those last two words at her like he was throwing down a gauntlet—the one she’d been battling her whole life.

  Challenge accepted.

  She stomped to Bear and flung her arms around his neck. “Miserable, stubborn, know-it-all Loveland,” she whispered into his thick mane inhaling his comforting, musky scent. “I can’t stand him,” she insisted, wondering who she was trying to convince.

  James didn’t take her seriously, and now Heath?

  Her skin tingled like a thousand fire ants were marching all over it. Heath had a lot of lessons to learn, one of them being to never underestimate a woman.

  Especially her.

  From here on out, it was war. Cade versus Loveland, and may the best rancher win.

  * * *

  HEATH LIGHTLY TAPPED his spurs into his mare’s sides and cantered along the line of trudging Brahmans. With his index finger and pinkie in his mouth, he whistled three sharp blasts. Blue wheeled around from the front. The cattle dog raced toward a pair of heifers who’d paused to graze. A few jaw-snapping lunges got the hungry animals moving forward again.

  With a yank, Heath freed his kerchief from his back pocket and mopped his dripping face. It was drier and hotter than the center of a haystack, despite the lack of sun. The Loveland rain dance had conjured only clouds...and a different kind of storm. His gaze swerved to the petite redheaded rough rider who effortlessly drove the cattle ahead of him, her body in perfect sync with her enormous black stallion. In the distance, their destination, a southern valley with abundant greenery and a natural spring, beckoned.

  Was Jewel right about the sorghum grass?

  She hadn’t spoken since they set out a couple of hours ago, her silence bugging him for no good reason. His family rarely talked when working. Besides, he wanted this time on the range to make peace with his future as a married businessman, yet his thoughts kept returning to his and Jewel’s earlier argument.

  She’d acted as though she’d save the day by steering them from this pasture and prove herself a better range boss. It’d blasted away his usual patience. He’d had to remind her who was in charge.

  His stomach twisted, and his back tensed.

  What’d gotten into him?

  You’re under my control...

  His words echoed in his ears. Who spoke like that? Shirtless guys on the covers of Sierra’s romance novels, that’s who. Not him. Not before Jewel blasted into his life, intent on shaking it—and him—up.

  With a slight tug, he slowed his Appaloosa, Destiny, and plodded alongside the bawling cattle. Their heads bobbed as they lumbered on dry, rocky ground. Choking dust rose. Up ahead, Jewel expertly headed off a small breakaway trio and nipped them back into the group. In the rear, Travis patrolled the end of the herd, keeping an eye out for stragglers or predators.

  Why had Heath acted like a demanding jerk before? Jewel triggered something inside him, a part that wanted to assert itself even when he knew the disastrous consequences of putting his wants ahead of others. A disturbing image of his mother on the night of Cole’s sixteenth birthday momentarily blinded him. Just in time, he spotted a depression and guided Destiny around it. Her hooves clattered over bedrock.

  Jewel wasn’t to blame for his actions. He was chafing inside his own life. A mustang resisting the bit. Sometimes he felt as though his life was like a railroad car that had been shunted onto a side track—all the wasted, carefree years of his youth spent worrying about his mother’s moods, her well-being, her effect on the family. And now here he was, still lagging behind, still not on the main track, worrying he’d look back on his adult years and wonder what he’d accomplished beyond making others happy.

  And shouldn’t that be enough for any man?

  To please is a disease.

  He frowned and touched his spurs to Destiny again. Instantly, she transitioned into a trot, then a gallop before he pulled her up alongside Jewel. “Nice work.”

  Her pert nose lifted, the only indication she’d heard him. Beneath her white Stetson, her face was pink; s
he suddenly looked pretty. And dainty. Thick leather reins disappeared inside one small hand. The other rested on her jean-clad thigh. It was shapely for it being so short, he observed before tearing his eyes away to gaze at the nearing pasture. “You’ve ridden with your brothers all your life?”

  “What else would I have been doing?” she asked from the side of her mouth, eyes locked straight ahead. “Playing dolls? Dress-up? Baking? This is the twenty-first century. We have things like electricity now...and women have the vote...”

  He flushed. “I get that. My sister Sierra was more interested in caring for the animals, and Kelsey, she—”

  Jewel’s loud, noisy yawn cut him off. When she finished, she angled her face his way, one eyebrow arched, her expression mock-innocent. “Sorry, what was that again?”

  A reluctant smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. Fine. She wasn’t interested in hearing about Kelsey and honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he’d brought her up. Invoking her name erected an invisible wall between him and Jewel. It was a reminder he was taken...though who, exactly, needed the reminding? With a jolt, he recalled an invitation to dine with her family tonight. His throat tightened. Would they expect some kind of an announcement?

  “How long have you had your horse?” he asked, eyeing Jewel’s enormous mount. The stallion had to be seventeen hands, yet Jewel rode him effortlessly, clearly in control.

  The dimple appearing in her freckled cheek fascinated him. “Eight years. His name’s Bear.”

  “Good name.”

  “Your Appaloosa’s pretty. What’s her name?”

  “Destiny. I figured wherever she took me was where I was supposed to go.”

  Jewel’s dimple disappeared. “You’re the one guiding her. You choose where you go, not Destiny.”

  Her words struck him momentarily mute. Before he could speak, Jewel gasped. “What’s that!”

  He followed her finger point into the looming pasture and took in the overgrowth of sorghum, the wilted leaves, the lack of ryegrass, just as Jewel predicted.

  “The grass,” he began, but she cut him off again.