by Karen Kelley
“Just a calf to put on Bessie so you won’t have to milk at night.”
Had he forgotten the fabulous orgasm he’d given her? He acted as though nothing had happened between them. That bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She’d been taken to new heights, soared to the heavens on a hazy cloud of intense delight, experienced a sexual awakening.
She frowned.
Maybe it hadn’t been that good for him. He’d given a lot more than he’d received, but that wasn’t really her fault. She’d wanted to be more in charge, but that hadn’t happened. Cal had taken complete control of the situation—boy, had he. Her body sizzled as she remembered just how much he’d taken control.
She leaned against the side of the open trailer, pretending interest in the calf, but in truth, she needed something to hang on to as visions of them making love flooded her mind. The way he’d caressed her body, kissed almost every inch of it, the way he’d plunged inside her, in and out, in and out.
She was sweating. A droplet slid between her breasts. She hunched her shoulders when it tickled. What the hell was happening to her? Had Cal cast a spell over her like all the other women in his life?
Of course he hadn’t. Shake it off! Deep breath. She was The Barracuda.
Story, think story. Yes, that’s what she needed to do to take her mind off their lovemaking.
But the story didn’t interest her. She didn’t want to think about it or the fact that she had zilch information. It was a fluff piece. Besides, she was starting to feel as though she shouldn’t be doing it at all. Cal seemed like a nice guy, and what she planned to do wasn’t right.
Oh, God, she was developing a conscience.
No, that couldn’t be it. She’d been working too much on other stories. After she’d turned them in, she should’ve taken a few days off, but Marge had talked her into doing this story. The article about Cal and Cynthia was at the bottom of her list of things to do while Cal was at the top. And she so wanted to do him again.
Except the man seemed immune to her charms. Sure, she knew he’d enjoyed their morning romp, but apparently it didn’t mean nearly as much to him. She frowned as she wondered why.
But Cal once again drew her attention as he lifted the calf out of the back of the trailer, his arm muscles tightening before he set the animal on the ground. It bleated like a sheep and looked up at her.
Okay, so what if the baby cow was cute. She was more interested in the man. But the calf wobbled over to her. She stared down at it, wanting to tell the animal to go away, but she petted the tiny head instead.
Maybe it was a little more than just cute.
Nikki looked up. Cal was watching her. She blushed. She could feel the heat rise up her face. She never blushed. Dammit, though, she needed to know what he thought about their time in bed.
“I enjoyed this morning,” she pressed. She didn’t want an award for best sex or anything, but she’d like to know what he took from the experience, and maybe if he wanted to do it again in the future. Near future preferably.
He aimed the calf toward the gate. “Milking the cow or gathering the eggs? Both were good research.”
Her forehead puckered. “No, I mean, sure, the research was great. I was talking about after that.”
He nudged the calf inside the enclosure. Bessie Two was already at the fence looking at it. She sauntered closer, sniffing the tiny creature. The calf bleated again. The cow bumped the calf with her head, aiming it in the right direction. As if on instinct, the calf went right for a teat and began to suck.
Cal closed the gate, then looked at Nikki. “Oh, you’re talking about when we had sex. Sure, I enjoyed myself.”
That’s all? He enjoyed himself? She had expected a little more from him.
“The cream is probably ready to be skimmed off the milk. You’ll love churning butter. Pioneers didn’t need all the fancy gyms they have now. Not when they had to work just to put food on the table.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” The pioneer women all looked like drudges, too, from the pictures she’d seen.
He eyed her. “Have you managed to work the stove?”
She quickly put her hands behind her so he wouldn’t see them tremble. “Are you joking? I was made for this kind of life.” What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And she hadn’t really lied. Okay, maybe she had.
An hour later, Nikki was wishing someone would amputate her arms. God was punishing her because she’d lied about using the stove. No, that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, she’d have been churning milk into butter long before now.
This was torture, though. Cal had poured the cream into a large glass jar and screwed a lid on it that had wooden paddles and a handle. When she turned the handle, the paddles spun through the cream.
There wasn’t a lot to it, at first. But then the cream began to thicken, and even though she frequently changed sides, her arms felt as though they might fall off any minute. They ached all the way across her shoulders.
Cal opened the door and stepped inside the kitchen. “I put the calf up so she won’t get tomorrow’s milk.”
Don’t do me any favors!
“Great.” She smiled at him. If nothing else, she was a damned good actress.
Cal smiled back, not buying her performance for one second. An actress, she wasn’t. And he still wasn’t sure she’d really used the stove. It didn’t look as if it had been lit in months. She had to be getting tired of PB&J sandwiches by now. This story must be real important to her. He hated that she was going to be disappointed.
He almost laughed when he remembered how she’d tried to find out what he’d thought about them having sex. He’d intentionally downplayed how much he’d enjoyed it and was rewarded when her forehead wrinkled in disappointment. She’d quickly covered it up, though. Nope, he wasn’t about to tell her it was the best sex he’d ever had.
He watched for a few seconds as she turned the handle. He remembered when his grandmother had stuck him with this chore. He’d rather clean stalls all day than churn butter, and he’d never acquired a taste for fresh butter, either.
“The cream is churned,” he said. He’d cut her a little slack. It might not be good publicity for the ranch if her arms fell off.
“Oh, it is. I was having fun, too.”
“If you move your hand off the handle, we can unscrew the lid and get it into the molds.”
She grimaced, then took her other hand to free the one holding the handle. “It seems to be locked in this position.” She laughed without humor. “Unused muscles, I suppose.”
“You’ll toughen up; don’t worry.” He patted her on the back.
She sucked wind.
“Think of all the research you’re getting. I bet you’ll write a hell of a book.”
“Oh, I’m sure before I leave here I’ll have everything I need.”
That’s what you think.
But Cal only smiled. He planned to show her all there was to know about the ranch, but that was the only information she’d have when she left. For now, he’d leave her to her own devices, but after he left, Cal found it was a lot harder to stop thinking about her.
It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.
Chapter 12
Celeste opened her eyes. It was dark. Confusion settled over her like a cold and unwelcome blanket. She reached out and felt the bedside table and the small lamp, then the switch that turned it on.
The low-wattage bulb cast a warm glow in the room. At least she was no longer in the dark.
Where was she this time?
The room was unfamiliar, but that was a normal occurrence with her. She’d traveled a lot over the years—different towns, different states, never staying long in any of them. She didn’t regret not having a permanent home. The adventures she’d had were amazing. Nothing else mattered.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and waited for the fog to go away. Then she remembered where she was—Crystal Creek Dude Ranch—and she was the new
massage therapist, even if it was on a trial basis. That was okay, too. She had a good feeling about this job.
She glanced at the clock: just after midnight. Her nap had lasted a long time. All day and into the night. Her forehead wrinkled. That’s what she got for going so long without sleep. Brian probably thought she was lazy. Not a good way to start her employment.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d missed lunch and dinner. God, she was so hungry, too. What had she eaten yesterday morning? A package of crackers and washed it down with a soda that had been only lukewarm. Her eating habits weren’t the best even in good times. Much like everything else she did in her life, she ate on the go.
She stretched her arms above her head as she glanced around. This was a nice room, comfortable, and it had a bathroom. No tub, but it did have a shower. She’d rather soak in scented bathwater inhaling her relaxing herbs.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though.
And hopefully she wouldn’t have to resort to begging Brian to let her keep this job. No, she wouldn’t think like that. She was a good massage therapist. Fate had brought her here, so why in the world would fate have Brian fire her?
It would be a trial basis only until Brian felt more comfortable. Then he would see what she could do, and the job would be permanent. At least, as permanent as she wanted it to be. It would always be her choice.
She needed to settle in one place for a while. Her money had run low. So low that she had less than a hundred dollars, and even she knew her car was on its last tires. She doubted it would take her another five miles. It was time to trade it in, and that was okay, because she was beginning to dislike the car tremendously, especially when it backfired and belched out black smoke. Lord, how embarrassing was that?
She would just have to prove to Brian that she was great at what she did and only hope it didn’t turn out like her last job. A shudder swept over her. No, she didn’t even want to go there right now.
Instead, she grabbed her robe. Would Brian care if she wandered the ranch at this time of night? Her stomach rumbled again. It seemed her body was making the decision for her. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she went to the kitchen and found something to eat.
She eased out of her room and quietly shut the door. She’d passed the kitchen, so she knew the direction it was in.
The ranch was quiet as she wandered the halls, only the dim light from wall sconces lighting her way. The dining room was eerily empty, but there was a light from beneath the swinging doors that led to the kitchen area.
There was a sign on one of the doors: EMPLOYEES ONLY. She was an employee, even if she was here on a trial basis. A very hungry employee. Maybe there were some crackers or something she could munch on. That should hold her until morning.
But when she pushed through the double doors, she wished she’d stayed in her room. Brian sat on a stool at the long counter. He had a sandwich in front of him but it didn’t look as though he’d eaten any of it yet.
Something fluttered inside her chest and she knew it wasn’t hunger pains. The same feeling had happened earlier, when she’d first laid eyes on Brian. Not that anyone would blame her. He was a nice-looking man.
Before she could ease back out of the room, he looked up.
“Don’t go,” he said as though he’d read her thoughts and knew she was going to flee.
“I was hungry.” That sounded so lame.
“Me, too.” He stood and went to the cabinet, took down another plate. “Sit.”
She moved to one of the stools, keeping one between them.
“Do you like sandwiches?”
She nodded when he looked at her.
“Good, because that’s all I could find without having to heat anything up.”
“Right now I think I could eat a horse. I missed lunch and dinner.”
“I know.”
Of course he would. He probably knew everything that went on at the ranch.
He cut his sandwich in half, then slid one portion onto the empty plate and set it in front of her.
She took a bite. A steak couldn’t have tasted any better than the slice of ham. She barely restrained herself from cramming the whole sandwich into her mouth. Brian didn’t say anything until she’d almost finished the sandwich.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said.
“What do you want to know?” she hedged, picking at the crust on her bread. Then she took another bite of the sandwich. She didn’t want to answer questions. She hated questions.
“What was your last job?”
Okay, she could skirt around that one. “My last job was in a hair salon.”
“As a massage therapist?”
“Not exactly.”
He raised his eyebrows.
She shrugged. “There wasn’t an opening, so I worked as a receptionist.”
“I’ll need references.”
She cringed. She’d known it was coming. Just not this soon. “I was fired from my last job.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw his back stiffen. That didn’t bode well for her.
Please let me get through this and still have a job.
“Some money came up missing,” she hesitantly continued. “I didn’t take it, but I was the new employee and I made a good scapegoat. The charges were dropped because of lack of evidence. I doubt the owner will give me a reference.” She pushed her plate away, suddenly losing her appetite.
Brian tapped his fingers on the counter as though he was thinking about everything she’d said, then stood and took their plates to the sink.
“I really didn’t take it. The owner’s son did.” Which was the last thing she should’ve told Giselle. No mother wants to know her sixteen-year-old son is a thief. But Celeste had seen him shutting the cash register. He’d only looked at her with a snide grin on his face. Her sinking feeling had been a premonition of what was to happen next.
“You’d better get some sleep,” Brian said. “First day on a new job is usually stressful.”
She jerked her head up. “Then you’ll still give me a chance?”
Brian had to be losing his mind, but she looked pretty broke to have stolen money. And she looked innocent. Probably because she still had that sleepy look about her. Her blond hair hung down her back in a tumble of soft waves.
He still wasn’t sure she hadn’t lied about her age, though. Right now, he’d guess her to be closer to twenty than thirty. The way she was all tucked inside her heavy terry cloth robe reminded him of a little pixie. Sweet, adorable.
He cleared his throat and his mind. He wouldn’t get caught up in feeling sorry for her. “A trial basis is what I told you and I meant it.”
“Thank you.” She hurried from the room. Had her eyes sparkled because of unshed tears? Or the way the light had hit them?
He had to be crazy to keep her after her confession. He was usually a good judge of character, though, and she just didn’t look like a thief. He only hoped that he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
He turned off the light a few minutes later and walked out of the kitchen. He was tired all the way to his bones, but there had been things that still needed doing before he could go to bed. It seemed his days were getting longer and longer.
Cal was right: he needed a break, but he didn’t think he’d take his brother up on his offer to run the place so he could take a vacation.
He glanced down the hall and caught a glimpse of Celeste right before she turned the corner.
No, Brian had a feeling Cal had made more trouble when he’d hired the girl. There was something about her. Not that he thought she was a criminal, but then people became desperate when they needed money. No, there was something else about her. A feeling that she might be lost.
A completely ridiculous notion, of course. She’d found her way here, hadn’t she?
But as he made his way to his room and his bed, he had a gut feeling that he’d done the right thing by hiring her. He only hoped his gut was right.
Chapter 13
“Cock-a-do, cock-a-do!”
Nikki came straight up in the bed, groaning in pain when every muscle screamed out. Who would’ve thought she could ever be this sore. She was swearing off milk and butter for life. She flexed her back as she tried to get the kinks out.
What woke her, anyway?
“Cock-a-do, cock-a-do!”
“Good Lord!” She jumped.
What damned time was it? She blinked several times, then rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She stared at the illuminated dial on the wind-up clock. Five o’clock.
“Not again,” she moaned.
“Cock-a-do, cock-a-do!”
She eased back down and pulled the pillow over her head.
“Cock-a-do, cock-a-do!”
It didn’t help, and the bad thing was, the rooster now sounded like a man who’d gotten his balls caught in a vice that was rapidly getting tighter and tighter.
She flung the covers to the side and stomped out of the bedroom and out the front door and stood on the porch. It was damned chilly. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon—again!—and casting a deep orange over the land.
Awestruck, she just stared at the beauty of it all for a moment.
About fifteen seconds was all it took to realize she needed another three to four hours of deep, uninterrupted sleep.
“Cock-a-do, cock-a—”
“Shut the fuck up!”
Squakkkkk!
The rooster jumped a good two feet off the top rail of the fence flapping its wings, then landed on the ground, fell over on its side, then got up, wobbling back and forth.
She noticed only two hens were admiring Romeo this morning. Okay, she felt a little guilty that since he’d become disabled he’d lost some of his audience. It wasn’t exactly fair kicking a…a rooster when he was down.
Romeo continued to flap his wings as he drunkenly headed for the barn, the two hens close on his tail feathers like groupies chasing after an aged rock star.
Nikki shoved her hair out of her face and stomped back inside.