by Cathie Linz
She’d even had a breakthrough about her own goals in her career of advertising. And it was linked to, of . all things, Rusty’s dislike of broccoli.
When Rusty told her that he wouldn’t eat the vegetable despite never having tasted it, she considered using blue food coloring to turn broccoli into “a blue life form from the planet Zargot.” She even went so far as to put the blue-dyed broccoli in a bottle with a Planet Zargot label she’d done up on her laptop and portable printer before deciding that she’d be betraying Rusty’s trust by deceiving him.
And that’s when it hit her that she wanted to work on selling only products that she really believed in, like Buck’s Barbecue Sauce. Not products that she had to deceive the consumer into buying.
As for Rusty, Tracy had received a recipe for roasted red pepper soup from Annie that he loved. And he gobbled fresh green beans like there was no tomorrow. So there was no need to sell him on broccoli.
The sound of Buck’s voice interrupted her train of thought. Derailed it actually. “I’m not saying you’re incompetent, I’m saying you may be infatuated. There’s a difference.”
“I am not infatuated!”
Her anger had him backing up a step or two. “Now don’t go getting on your high horse, I’m just trying to help out here.”
“Then help me move this lamp over to the other side of the couch.”
For once Buck did as he was told.
SHE FIRST NOTICED the button missing from Zane’s shirt when he sat down for the midday meal the next day. It was one of the few shirts he owned that didn’t have pearlized snaps. He was probably wearing it because she was a little behind in the washing as a result of revamping the living room.
“You’ve got a loose button,” she told him. “I’ll fix it.”
“I don’t have time,” he began, but she already had a needle and thread in her hand.
“No, don’t take your shirt off,” she said. She certainly didn’t need him standing bare-chested in her kitchen. Okay, so it was his kitchen. Even so, she didn’t want him half-undressed. Okay, so she did want him half-undressed. She wanted him totally undressed.
Stop that! she ordered herself. Just do your job. Sew on his darn button and impress the heck out of him with your stitching skills.
“The button is near the bottom of your shirt. Just tug it out of your jeans and I’ll sew it while it’s on you.” When he did as she requested, she started babbling nervously. “I’m not as good with a needle as your great-grandmother was. I saw her cross-stitching in the den. Pretty impressive.” Head down, she kept her attention focused on the needle and thread—in and out, in and out. The one time she did look up, she almost smacked the top of her head against his chin.
For his part, Zane wasn’t saying much. But she could feel his body heat emanating toward her, beckoning her closer. Her fingers trembled. Must be because she was trying to sew so fast.
“There.” She finished off by wrapping the thread around the button several times. It was only then that she realized what she’d done. “Oops.”
“I don’t like a woman with a needle in her hand saying oops,” Zane said.
“It appears that your shirt has somehow gotten sewn to mine.”
“Somehow?” he repeated. “I know exactly how. You’re driving me plumb loco!”
“Hey,” she shot back, “it was an honest mistake...”
The rest of her words were smothered by his lips as he lowered his head to kiss her. As before in the barn, there was no tentative fumbling, no awkwardness. There was only immediate heat and instant hunger.
He repeated that flick of his tongue across the roof of her mouth in a way she found incredibly seductive. His work-roughened hands cupped her face, holding her in place. She was vaguely aware that she still held a sharp needle in one hand, but that left her other hand free to tug him closer. She did so.
Ah, that was better. A thread wouldn’t fit between them now, so tightly was her body pressed against his.
It took the sound of a booming voice from across the room to send them apart.
“Son of a buck!”
10
TRACY HAD PULLED AWAY from Zane so quickly that she ripped off the button she’d just sewn on to his shirt. Not only that, but the material on her shirt ripped as well, creating a rather large hole in the blue chambray material. Another outfit down the drain.
She should have been embarrassed to have been caught in a compromising position with Zane. But she was too distracted by the realization that Zane was not as indifferent to her as he’d said. Despite all his claims to the contrary, there was no mistaking the way he’d kissed her.
He’d kissed her like a man who needed her the way he needed air to breathe and water to drink. As if she were necessary for his existence. As if he couldn’t go a millisecond longer without tasting her mouth and caressing her lips.
He’d told her she was driving him plumb loco. No man had ever said that to her before. And she could commiserate, because he had the same effect on her.
Zane’s expression now wasn’t giving anything away. Buck, on the other hand, looked like he’d eaten one of her inedible meals and was about to choke on it.
Somebody had to break the silence, so she did. “I was just sewing a button back on Zane’s shirt.” Not the most brilliant of openings, and thank heavens Buck made no comment. He might have wondered how locking their lips together got a button sewn back on. “Everything is...uhm...fine now,” she added, her voice clearly distracted.
Better than fine. Despite getting caught, she couldn’t help the way her heart was soaring. She wasn’t the only one wrapped up in this wild attraction—Zane was as much a victim of it as she was. It felt so good knowing this was a two-way street. She wasn’t the only one in love....
Her eyes opened wide. In love? Was that what this was all about?
It would explain a lot.
In love. With Zane. She tested the concept. It was terrifying and exciting.
She needed some time to herself to get her thoughts together. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she murmured.
AS SOON AS TRACY LEFT the room, Buck lit into Zane. “Are you loco, son?”
“Probably,” Zane muttered, tucking his loose shirt back into the waistband of his jeans.
“That little gal is falling for you like a heifer in a mud puddle.”
“That little gal is city born and bred,” Zane scoffed. “No way she’s like a heifer in a mud puddle. More like a fancy butterfly, here while things are good and gone when they aren’t.”
“What you know about she-folks would fit in the ear of a gnat,” Buck retorted. “Ain’t no way she’s a butterfly. A butterfly would have hightailed it back to Chicago that first day. Or the next, when the twins tied her to the bed. Or the next, when King was on the toilet. Or...”
Zane held his hands out in a reluctant concession. “Okay, so she’s kept her promise and stayed. But it’s only for the summer.”
“She’s no delicate flower. That woman can hold her own out here. She’s got a temper that would turn a blizzard around and send it home with a suntan. Yet she’s real gentle and patientlike with the kids. And she’s turned this place into a home, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I noticed,” Zane said gruffly.
“I figured you did.” Buck fixed him with a piercing look. “That why you were kissing her?”
Zane shrugged. “Like you said, it was a plumb loco thing to do.”
“Only if you’re regretting it.”
The only thing Zane regretted was being this attracted to a woman who was sure to leave. It was like lying down in a stampede and asking to be trampled by a herd of cattle. But he couldn’t honestly say that he regretted kissing her. Not when it had felt so good. Better than good. He wasn’t a poetic man or he’d come up with some kind of description. Only thing he knew was that a kiss had never affected him this way before. But that didn’t change the facts. “She’s not our kind.”
“And what kin
d might that be?” Buck demanded.
“From around here.”
“Pam was from around here,” Buck pointed out. “That didn’t seem to help matters none.”
“Pam was a city girl.” Zane made sure to place the emphasis where he did.
Buck snorted, clearly not impressed with Zane’s logic. “Pam’s problems came from her character, not from her geography.”
“I’m telling you, you don’t have to defend Tracy this way.” Zane was getting aggravated by his father’s attitude. The way he saw it, he was the injured party here, the one perched on the horns of a dilemma. And as any cowboy could tell you, being stuck on a pair of horns is a mighty uncomfortable place to be. “She’s well able to look after herself. As for me, after my first marriage, I’m love-proof.” Saying the words were meant to make him feel better. “My heart belongs to my kids.”
Buck fixed him with another steely-eyed look, the kind he’d often given him as a kid when he’d known Zane was about to do something stupid. “She’s taken to this ranch like a horse takes to corn. You’d be a fool to let her go.”
“She’s not going anyplace until the kids start school. Then she’ll head back to her old life and I’ll...”
“Be back where you were when this started,” Buck interrupted him to say. “Knee-deep in cow patties. Take them blinders off, boy. They’re affecting your vision. No need to be slicker shy around this filly. I’m telling you, she’s a keeper.”
“I TOLD YOU he’d be a keeper,” Maeve was telling Tracy over the phone.
“What do you mean?” Tracy had retreated to her room and done what she always did whenever she had a personal crisis. She called her aunt, this time using her cell phone. There was no telling when the twins or, heaven forbid, Zane, might pick up the extension on the ranch phone. So Tracy always used her own phone for personal calls.
“I mean that I could tell by the way Herbie talked about Zane that he’d be perfect for you. I can’t wait to meet him. Have you two set a date yet?”
“Whoa!” Tracy exclaimed.
“How cute,” Maeve murmured in delight. “You’re even sounding like a cowgirl.”
“Zane doesn’t think so.” Tracy started pacing. “I think I love him anyway.”
Tracy winced and held the phone away as Maeve squealed. “I knew it! I could tell you were falling for him.”
“And I think he may be falling for me, but he’s not happy about it.”
“What man is? They’re never happy when their hearts get lassoed.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like a cowgirl.”
“Herbie and I have been talking about coming out there for a visit.”
Tracy could just imagine the mayhem of adding her aunt to the mix. That’s all she’d need, Maeve hugging Zane and asking him if he’d set a date yet. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Not yet, anyway. Things are still too much up in the air.” Tracy plopped onto the bed. “I can’t believe I’ve fallen in love so quickly.”
“Quickly is a relative term,” her aunt retorted. “I knew I loved Herbie the very first moment I saw him. You, on the other hand, have been on that ranch for two months now. And it’s not like you were truly in love with Dennis. You told me so yourself.”
“I know. And Zane is nothing like Dennis. Do you think Zane could really grow to love me?” she asked, almost afraid to say the words aloud.
“If he’s half as smart as Herbie says that Buck says he is, then he’d have to love you. He certainly doesn’t seem like the kind of man to kiss a woman he doesn’t have feelings for.”
“That’s true. And I’ve already got the man hooked on papaya-orange drinks. I’m the only one who knows how to use the juice extractor to make them.”
“He’d be lost without you.”
Tracy laughed at the concept. “So all I have to do is sit back and wait for him to realize that I’m invaluable, huh?”
“That’s right”
“As Buck would say, that’s about as likely as pigs flying.”
TWO DAYS LATER Zane was stunned to walk into the house and find his father upstairs packing up the twins. “What are you doing?”
“Taking the twins to see the state fair,” Buck replied as if this was an everyday occurrence.
“But that’s clear down in Pueblo.”
Buck nodded. “Which is why we’re staying a few days.”
Zane trailed his family down the stairs and out to the front porch, grappling to keep up with this new wrinkle in his life. “I’ll come with you.”
Buck shook his head even as he loaded the twins and their bags in the truck. “You’ve got to stay here at the ranch and keep an eye on things.”
“Murph’n’Earl...”
“Can’t do everything that needs to be done by themselves,” Buck interrupted him to point out. “It’s only a few nights. Is there some reason why you’re suddenly so nervous you’d make a rat in a snake’s den look comfortable?”
Zane shifted from one foot to another before catching himself. Heck, he was acting like a fool teenager. He had to come up with some logical explanation, so he grabbed hold of this one. “The twins have never been away from me overnight.”
“About time they were then,” Buck retorted, clearly not moved by Zane’s reasoning. “They’re excited over the prospect of going to the fair. Don’t ruin it for them just because you’re scared.”
Zane threw back his shoulders and glared at his father. “I’m not scared.”
“Fine.” Buck patted him on the back with enough force to make Zane step back a pace or two. “Then we’ll see you in a few days.”
The twins hugged him and waved out the truck window, but Zane could tell that they were thrilled at the idea of going on a trip with their grandfather.
So why was he standing there feeling like he’d just been deserted in a blizzard and kicked in the heart by a mule.
“What are you looking at?” Zane growled at Murph‘n’Earl, who were standing nearby, eyeing him with knowing grins. “We’ve got fences to check. Let’s get to work.”
“WHERE IS EVERYBODY?” Tracy asked as she and Zane sat down to dinner.
Zane glared at her as if she’d just committed a capital offense instead of having asked a simple question. “You mean to tell me that you only now noticed that the twins and my father are gone?”
“Of course not,” she said, stung by his implication that she wasn’t paying attention to the twins. “Buck told me they were going to the state fair. I asked if I could go with them.”
“Wanted to get back to a big city, huh?”
Ignoring his taunting words, she just finished her explanation. “Buck said that I was needed here more.”
“You were disappointed at not going to Pueblo.”
“I’ll go another time.”
She seemed mighty unconcerned about things. Why wasn’t she itching to head off to Pueblo? Maybe it wasn’t a big enough city for her.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that she didn’t spend her days off exploring any of the bigger cities in the area. Not even when he’d given her an entire weekend off.
No, she’d spent the time surfing the Internet on that little computer of hers, looking for more places to distribute and sell Buck’s Barbecue Sauce. Or she’d read the twins a book or cajole Buck into writing down some of his Cockeyed Curly stories. Or she’d go riding with him or work on the garden she’d planted with the kids.
She’d done just about everything but what he expected her to do. And he suspected she was doing it deliberately. Just to aggravate him. Or to prove him wrong.
Still deep in his heart, he was finding that excuse more and more lame. But he wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.
After helping himself to a large serving of Tater Tots, he resumed his questioning. “So you must be missing your job back in Chicago?”
“No.”
“No?” he repeated, clearly surprised by her simple denial.
“I’ve decided that this
job could be just as rewarding as the one I had back in Chicago.”
He frowned. “How do you figure that?”
“Because what I’m doing here is making a difference. Do you deny that?” she challenged him.
“No comment,” he muttered.
“You never did tell me where Murph’n’Earl are,” she reminded him while passing him the bowl of peas.
“They went into Kendall for the evening.”
“So we’re alone?”
“Something wrong with that?” Now he was the one who challenged her.
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” she replied, deliberately keeping her voice light and unconcerned. “How about you?”
“Fine by me, too.”
She nodded. “Good. Glad to hear it. Here, have some more steak.”
“This actually tastes pretty good,” he confessed.
“Why sir—” she waved her hand in front of her face as if she were doing a Scarlett O’Hara impersonation “—you’re going to make me swoon with all your fancy compliments.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “That your way of saying I’m a rough ol’ cowboy and not a silvertongued sweet-talker?”
“I don’t think anyone could ever accuse you of being a sweet-talker,” she assured him with a grin.
For some reason her words irritated him. It had never bothered him before that Reno was the charmer in the family but now he found that he wanted to...how had she once put it? He wanted to wow her with his words. “Oh, I don’t know. If I had the proper inspiration, say like your hair, I might be able to surprise you with my lyrical ways.”
She looked at him. When had this conversation turned seductive? There was no mistaking the warmth in his voice or the intensity of his gaze. It was one of those full-impact, sin-city looks from eyes so blue they put the sky to shame. Now she was the one getting lyrical.
Looking down, she nervously tugged down the hem of her white T-shirt and wished she was wearing something more...alluring than jeans and a T-shirt. She couldn’t remember that last time she’d worn a dress. At least her top didn’t have any stains on it from cooking dinner.