Anna stared at Kyle. “No one called. I’m doing my inspection.”
Faith looked up from petting the excited Peetie. “It’s another thing vets do. Inspect herds for any disease and to make sure if you say they’re grass fed, they’re really grass fed. Or else she can’t sign off on the certificate.”
“Yep,” Kyle said. “That’s why we’re all real nice to Anna.”
“It’s got nothing to do with being nice,” Anna said stiffly. “The herd either passes or it doesn’t.”
Kyle leaned heavily on his stick. “I was joking. I do that.”
“Uncle Kyle’s a barrel of laughs.” Faith sank to her knees so she could hug a delighted Peetie. “I get to call them Uncle Kyle and Uncle Ray now, because my stepmom is their sister.”
Anna knew that—the whole town did—but Anna gave Faith a kind smile. “Ready to be my assistant?”
“Sure!” Faith stood up, dusting off her hands. “I have to work, Peetie.” She took the clipboard Anna handed her and gave Kyle a concerned look. “You sure Peetie’s all right?”
Kyle could feel Anna’s eyes hard on him, like she could peel off his skin with her scrutiny.
“Naw, he’s fine.” Kyle deliberately met Anna’s gaze. The second he did, she swiveled her head away, her cheeks pink. “He probably ate a bug.”
“We’ll check him when we get back from the field,” Anna said to Faith. “You never know. Do you spray herbicide and pesticide?” The question was fired at Kyle.
“I guess so. Ask Margaret.”
“Well, you shouldn’t. Bad for your animals. Ready, Faith?”
Faith, oblivious to the tension, hugged the clipboard, waved at Kyle, and followed Anna as she strode down the hill. They moved toward the pasture where the Malorys’ small herd milled, enjoying their day.
“This is Texas,” Kyle called after them. “If we don’t spray, the insects will carry everything off. The house, the barns, everything.”
Faith turned around and grinned at him before she hurried after Anna. Anna kept her back to him, utterly ignoring him.
Kyle knew he should let her walk away, should stump back to the office and get on with work. Ray had a point—Kyle could help run the ranch even if he couldn’t climb up on a horse or bull. His competing days were over for this year, but he could rest up and make a comeback next spring.
None of that involved following Anna and Faith down to the pasture to watch Anna scan the cattle for any obviously sick animals or choose arbitrary ones to test for various diseases.
But for some reason, Kyle set his shoulders, gritted his teeth against lingering pain, and hobbled after them.
What is his problem? Anna thought irritably as Kyle came to a stop behind Faith who waited beyond the fence. The two watched Anna weave her way around the steers, avoiding cow pats as much as she could. Did he think she couldn’t do her job? Worried she couldn’t take care of Faith?
He should realize that she wouldn’t allow Faith to come all the way into pastures with her. Likewise, any inoculations or blood draws Anna did today, she’d do on her own. She wasn’t about to let a small girl near a bad-tempered steer who might kick her for the hell of it.
Part of the reason she’d agreed to be Faith’s mentor for the day was to show by example that large animal practice was messy, smelly, and dangerous. Anna also wanted Faith to understand that in spite of this, a woman could do it. But she wouldn’t sugar-coat it. Anna had made her choice, and Faith should be allowed to make hers.
Why Kyle was making it his business, she didn’t know.
At least he kept quiet while Anna did her inspection, drew blood, and patted hairy shoulders. Steers never gave her any trouble. They might watch her warily when she approached, but soon they more or less accepted her as another, if odd-looking, member of the herd.
Anna tucked her samples into her case and walked back to the fence where Kyle and Faith waited. There was no way to avoid manure out here, so Anna spent a few moments scraping her boots on the grass before handing Faith her case and climbing over the fence.
“You’re good at keeping your cool,” Kyle said. “I’ve got ranch hands afraid to walk in that pasture. They’ll go in on horseback, but they get nervous around the cattle.”
Anna shrugged as she showed Faith what to mark on the inspection notes. “The steers don’t see me as a threat. They also know I’m vegetarian.”
Faith laughed. “How do they know that?”
Anna kept a straight face. “I tell them.”
The corners of Kyle’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t crack a smile. “Vegetarian? Darlin’, don’t preach to a rancher about not eating meat. We have to make a living.”
Anna gave him a surprised look. “I don’t expect everyone to give up meat. Just me. I can’t eat what I’ve been looking in the eye and having a conversation with. Especially if I helped them be born.”
“Aw,” Faith said. “That’s a good point. I guess I won’t eat meat either.”
“Okay,” Kyle said. “No burgers for you. Or Grant’s fantastic chili.”
“Well.” Faith pursed her lips. “I’ll think about it.”
Anna hid her amusement by looking through her checklist. Kyle leaned on the post next to her.
“You know, Faith, if you follow Anna around long enough, you’ll learn she’s against everything we do—eating burgers, training cutting horses, riding bulls.”
Seriously, what was he doing? Trying to make her look like a complete stick-up-her-ass?
“Cutting horses get injured,” Anna said, trying to sound reasonable. “The quick turns are hard on their legs. They pull tendons and break bones. And you know the cruelty to bulls that goes on.”
Faith looked interested, but Anna didn’t want to elaborate. People used all kinds of prods, electronic and otherwise, to make the bulls rocket out of the chute. Plus, animals got injured in many ways, some injuries leading to death. She’d put down more than one calf or bull at a rodeo who’d otherwise expire in pain.
“There are incidents,” Kyle admitted. “I know that. Me and Ray don’t ride in rodeos that shock the bulls or pack the cattle like sardines in the pens and transports. We’re not completely oblivious of crap that goes on. But it’s not a slaughterhouse. Animals are injured, and people too, yeah.” He lifted his walking stick. “But a small percentage.”
“Even a small percentage is too much for me,” Anna said.
“Animal cruelty goes on everywhere. You can’t save them all. Unfortunately.”
“But I can save the ones I can.” Anna looked Kyle up and down, a handsome cowboy with one elbow on the fence post, sun dappling his face as he pushed back his hat. “Anyway, look at you. You could have killed yourself falling off that bull.”
“I know.” Kyle gave her a slow nod. “But I didn’t.”
“Absolutely insane.” Anna knew she should stop talking before Kyle snarled at her and trudged away, but her tongue wouldn’t cease. “Sitting on a bull who’s already angry and stressed and then seeing how long you can hang on when he rightly tries to buck you off is crazy. And you win prizes for this.”
Kyle’s mouth thinned. “It’s a little harder than it looks, sweetheart.”
“I’d never do it.” Faith wrinkled her nose. “I’d fall the instant we were out of the chute.”
Anna sent her a grin. “Those bulls wouldn’t buck you, Faith. They’d know what a sweet thing you are and stand still. They buck off Kyle because they don’t like him.”
Faith laughed, as Anna had meant her to. “Kyle’s pretty good, though,” Faith said. “I’ve been watching him at rodeos all my life. The bulls get points too. There’s a champion bull at the end of the season—the best one at jumping and twisting and throwing off riders.”
“I’m sure the bull is very proud.” Anna returned to checking her sheet, mostly to avoid looking at Kyle.
“People who knock bull riding have never done it,” Kyle said with a growl. “I train most of the year and ride in a hell o
f a lot of rodeos. There’s more to it than hanging on to a strap. A little more strenuous than staring at a bunch of steers and writing things on a piece of paper.”
“Seriously?” Anna threw aside avoiding Kyle’s gaze and glared right into his green eyes. “I went four years to one of the best vet schools in the country. I had to be at the top of my classes in pre-vet just to fill out an application to get in. I worked my ass off and got my D.V.M, but then I had to pretty much beg for work because what large-animal practice wants to hire a woman who’s barely five feet tall? Don’t even think about comparing riding a bull to years and years of studying and testing and putting up with shit jobs until I proved myself.”
Anna ran out of breath, her chest heaving as she tried to catch it. Kyle only stared at her, not looking one bit ashamed.
“I’ll give you being smart and all your schooling,” he said. “I sucked at school, and you know it. But ranching is tough work, and bull riding is a skill. Just like doctoring animals is a skill. Can we agree on that?”
Anna knew she should shut up. But something drove her on. Maybe it was the way Kyle looked at her, drying up her mouth and tightening her throat. Maybe it was the way she flashed hot every time he spoke, her heart pounding with each movement of his mouth, the way she couldn’t keep her gaze from his lips as he took a step closer.
“No, we can’t agree,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Performing lung surgery on a horse is a hell of a lot trickier than straddling a bull for a few seconds and then falling on your butt.”
Kyle halted a mere two feet from her. He pulled down his hat, its brim reaching for her as he stooped to her.
“If bull riding is so damn easy, why don’t you try it? Do it—then you tell me what’s hard and what’s easy.”
“Don’t be stupid. You know I think bull riding is tough on the bull. I will never do that.”
“Uh huh. What I hear is you weaseling your way out of it. Tell you what—I’ll put you on top of a tame bull. No harnesses, no straps, not one piece of rope on him. I’ll even ask him nicely if you can ride him. Then you’ll see how hard it is.”
Anna was already shaking her head. “No way. You’d smack him or something to get him to buck. I’m not letting you do that.”
Kyle raised his hands. “Promise, no one will touch him.”
“No,” Anna nearly yelled. “It’s a stupid idea. I’m not riding a bull!”
“What about a mechanical one?” Faith asked, and Anna jumped. “Like at that place—Dino’s. On the way to Fredericksburg.”
Anna did not like the way Kyle’s lips curved into a sudden smile. “Faith, you’re a genius. I can’t see Anna calling the humane society about how Dino’s treats a piece of machinery.”
Panic formed a cold bubble in Anna’s stomach. “It’s still dangerous. People get hurt on those.”
“I’ve seen plenty of women ride Dino’s bull, and ride it well,” Kyle said. “What’s the matter, Anna? Afraid you’d have to eat your words? Admit it’s not so easy?”
“No,” Anna snapped. The panic kept welling, but the light in Kyle’s eyes would not let her back down. He’d laugh, he’d crow, he’d never let her hear the end of it. “I’m not afraid. Figuring out how to balance on a machine is still miles easier than being a vet.”
Kyle’s grin widened. “So you’ll do it?”
“Yes,” Anna heard herself say. “I will.”
“Yay!” Faith did a fist-pump.
“Sweet.” Kyle’s face was hard but triumph waited behind it. “How about we make this even more interesting?”
They seemed to be closer now. Sunshine burnished the dark whiskers on his jaw, where Anna had wanted to run her hand the last time she’d seen him.
“You mean a bet?” she asked nervously. “I don’t want to take your money.”
“Oh, not for money, honey.”
Anna’s heart beat thick and fast at his hot grin. “If you’re going to suggest something disgusting, remember Faith is standing right here. Don’t make me have to punch you.”
Kyle sent her an incredulous look. “What kind of asshole do you think I am? Keep your mind out of the gutter, Doctor. If you can’t stay on that mechanical bull for ten seconds, then you agree to go on a date with me.”
Anna’s knees went weak. A date with Kyle Malory? Walking into a restaurant on his arm, having him hold out her chair. He brushing the small of her back, asking in his low rumble what she’d like to order. Walking her to her doorstep afterward, where he’d lean to softly kiss her …
The heady fantasy dissolved to show Kyle in front of her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. With Kyle, he might mean a hot dog at a movie followed by unvarnished sex. Which would be sweaty, raw, crazy, wild ... and amazing.
Anna felt the blush come hard, and saw Kyle’s answering glee. Damn it, why couldn’t she control her face around him?
“What kind of date?” she managed to ask.
“The best kind. A dinner at Chez Orleans. I’ll pick you up in a fancy car, bring you flowers, chocolates, whatever you want.”
Anna’s brows shot high. “Chez Orleans?” It was the most expensive restaurant in River County with exquisite food prepared by a Cordon Bleu-trained man who’d tired of the frenzied life of a celebrity chef. He’d moved from New York City to White Fork to relax and cook what he wanted. “Will they let you in, in your cowboy boots?”
“I’ll wear a suit. I have heard of them. How about it? You stay on that bull, I’ll give you a night on the town. Well, a night at a nice restaurant in White Fork.”
Anna rubbed her chin as though pondering. “That’s if you win. What do I get if I win?”
Kyle’s grin returned. “If you can hang on for ten seconds, I’ll concede you’re right, that bull riding is too easy.”
“Oh, I’d want a little more than that.”
Faith broke in. “I have a great idea. How about, if you lose, Uncle Kyle, you follow Anna around when she works and do all the grunt work for her, like opening gates, catching steers, picking up feces samples …”
Anna’s face cooled as she imagined the smug Kyle having to scrabble in a muddy farmyard full of ooze for a good fecal sample, or to hold a bottle for a urine sample, or even better, a semen one. Her smile blossomed.
“All right. It’s a bet.”
“Awesome.” Kyle seized the hand she stuck out and shook it hard.
He had a firm grip, callused fingers, and so much warmth. Anna looked into his eyes, green like dark jade, and had the feeling she’d just made a big, big mistake.
Kyle arrived at Dino’s with seconds to spare. He hadn’t been cleared for driving yet, so he’d had to rely on Ray for transportation. Ray had been late getting back to the ranch from wherever, and Kyle seethed with impatience the whole drive.
Ray had been disappearing from the ranch for long stretches of the day, which wasn’t like him. Kyle believed in giving his big brother his own space, but Ray had been more close-mouthed than usual.
“Margaret was looking for you earlier,” Kyle mentioned as they rode away from the few lights of Riverbend. “Couldn’t even get you on your phone.”
He left it there. Up to Ray to answer, or not.
Ray shot him a glance, his eyes glittering in the darkness before he returned his gaze to the road. “Sorry. Busy.”
That was cryptic, even for Ray. But Kyle had his own problems—he’d pry things out of Ray later.
Dino’s was an old-fashioned cowboy bar between Fredericksburg and Johnson City that catered to tourists who were looking for a bit of the Old West. It had sawdust on the floor and cowboy hats on the wall, country music on the speakers, steaks on the grill, and a mechanical bull in a big room in back.
Real cowboys came here anyway because Riverbend didn’t have many places to go out for the night. There was Mrs. Ward’s diner and Sam’s bar, and Chez Orleans if you wanted to spend the big bucks. That was about it. So Riverbenders headed to Dino’s for chili, steak, two-stepping, local bands, and the bull.
Anna had agreed to meet them there at eight-thirty on this Saturday night. At eight-twenty-nine, when Kyle walked in, the place was packed. Kyle’s heart sank—shy Anna was uncomfortable around too many people. Not only might she refuse to go through with the ride, but she might think Kyle was trying to humiliate her.
Not his intention at all. Kyle wanted to prove a point, not embarrass her. He didn’t want her mad at him for this too.
Anna was already there, Kyle saw as he and Ray pushed through the crowd. She turned angry blue eyes to Kyle.
Kyle saw the reason for her anger in the next second. All of Riverbend had come, it looked like, and all were talking excitedly about the bet.
“She’s gonna hand you your ass, Malory!” was the gist of the comments heading his way.
The entire Campbell clan was present, from Adam to Ross along with their wives, which included Kyle’s youngest sister, Grace. They’d brought the kids too, at least the ones who could walk—Faith; Dominic, Tyler’s stepson; and Manny, the lanky teen Ross mentored.
All were avidly interested in why Kyle had challenged Anna to ride the mechanical bull in Dino’s back room.
Chapter Four
“Faith,” Kyle growled, bending a stern eye on the girl. “You sure spread the word.”
Faith looked back in all innocence. She did the guiltless expression well, in spite of being Carter’s daughter—Carter had been in shitloads of trouble as a kid. Or maybe that’s who she’d learned it from.
Faith stuck her hands in her pockets and grinned impudently at Kyle. “You and Anna didn’t say I couldn’t tell anyone.”
No, they hadn’t. When Kyle and Anna had sealed the bet, Kyle had been fixed on Anna’s soft hand in his, her eyes as blue as the bluebonnets that covered the Hill Country in spring.
He’d been busy waxing poetic in his head and forgot that an eleven-year-old of one of the biggest families in town watched eagerly.
“Don’t worry, Anna,” Faith told her now. “You’re going to win. We all know it.”
Kyle Page 3