Texas Wishes: The Complete Series

by Kristina Knight

  “It isn’t a good idea.” Mat crunched a tortilla strip as if the conversation was over.

  “I think it’s important to the sale.” Why this was suddenly so important escaped Vanessa. All she knew was she needed this idea to fly, so she pushed. “Pictures and new copy is great, but we need to build more interest.”

  Mat picked up his bowl and an extra slice of cheesy bread. “Whatever you say.” He turned to the kitchen but paused at the door. “By the way, you have mud on your face.”

  Vanessa reached up and felt streaks of dirt on her cheek. Her fingers loosened a clump of mud from her forehead and she wanted to bang her head on the table. Her face flamed. She’d just had a silly argument with Mat, in front of her family and with mud on her face. She hurried across the room to the mirror on the wall. Mud didn’t exactly cover her face but it was bad enough. Jackson chuckled at the table and she glared at him in the mirror. Forget her earlier thought. Brother-in-law or not, he needed to be punished. He pointed to Mitchum and Kathleen. “They tried to tell you.” He softened his voice and winked at her. “But even with mud on your face, you’re still the second-prettiest Witte girl I know.”

  Maybe “punished” was too strong a term.

  She rested her forehead against her hand. “I can’t believe I just acted like that and looked like this.”

  “Personally, I liked it. You had a plan, you followed through. And I do think it makes sense to have the bulls available for inspection,” Kathleen said from her seat at the table.

  Vanessa sat down heavily, her appetite gone.

  “Could have been worse.” Mitchum spoke for the first time since Vanessa came to lunch. “You could have had a bad idea and had mud on your face.” He shrugged and gathered his plate and bowl. “And those are some pretty flowers you planted under the oak. Why don’t you show me your ideas after lunch?”

  Not exactly glowing approval, but then Mitchum had never gone overboard on her ideas in the past. Had she ever offered an idea, other than music for the post-sale ball or colors for the website? Vanessa smiled. It was progress.

  • • •

  Mat cursed himself for a lust-stricken fool as he stood outside the office in the barn, watching Vanessa sketch plans for the new website on a pad of paper while Mitchum looked on, glowing with pride. He admired her guts. For a woman with little real-world experience and an obvious misunderstanding of basic cattle principles, she showed initiative.

  Her idea about the pre-sale viewings wasn’t bad, either. It would create buzz. It would drive prices higher. The Double Diamond wasn’t hurting for cash like a lot of operations, but reputation was key in the cattle business. Building a stronger reputation was never a bad thing. Prospective buyers always got a little hotter under the collar for a particular horse or bull after seeing him in person. The bulls wouldn’t mind, no matter what he told Vanessa. Yes, bulls could attack but usually only if they were provoked. A few people outside a fence probably wouldn’t hit the bulls’ radar.

  The real problem was Vanessa would hit his radar. Would very likely send it sky-high. He wouldn’t delegate the bull viewings. The hands could handle it, he knew, but the bulls were his responsibility.

  It would just be better if it didn’t mean he’d have to deal with Cowgirl Barbie in the process. This afternoon she wore a simple long-sleeved tee and jeans with those damned purple suede and black leather boots. Boots that put him in mind of a casual ride into the Texas hills rather than the hard work of the ranch.

  “Mat,” Mitchum called from inside the office, waving his arm, “didn’t see you out there at first. Vanessa has some good ideas. You should join us, make sure we’re all on the same page.”

  Mat reluctantly walked through the door and pulled up a chair before the scarred oak desk. Stacks of papers from the vet littered one corner, but in the middle was a large poster board. The basic layout of the site, complete with pictures from past sales, mock-ups of the Double Diamond brand and content notes, looked like something a marketing pro would have created for one of his father’s software designs.

  So she knew how to lay out an event website. Didn’t make Vanessa Witte the belle of a Madison Avenue ball.

  “I deal with the cattle, and the hands, not the website.”

  Mitchum chuckled. “Nice try. I want your opinion. As a stockman, what do you think?”

  Mat gritted his teeth. He’d created websites just like this in college. Looked for the next best thing for his father’s company. The eye-catching design was good, the content would make the difference. He already knew Vanessa could deliver the content. They both looked expectantly at him. He pushed the design back across the desk. “I like it. But it’s fifty hours of coding, content creating, and image tweaking.” He held Vanessa’s gaze for a long moment. Finally she waved a hand at the room.

  “It isn’t like I have anything more pressing to attend to.”

  “That’s part of the problem. How do we know some pressing party engagement isn’t going to crop up over the next eight weeks?”

  “The best party in Texas is going to be here in eight weeks. Where else would I be?” she asked sweetly.

  “Eight weeks is a long time to wait for a little fun.”

  “I like the buildup of waiting.”

  Heat flashed between them. What was he doing baiting her, in front of Mitchum? That was a good way to lose a job he liked, friendships he valued, and the roots he’d worked so hard to build. But he couldn’t stop.

  “You sure you can handle eight weeks of waiting?” They both knew he was talking about more than the sale. Vanessa ignored the innuendo but fire lit the blue of her eyes, turning them almost navy. Mat beat back the surge of attraction that came with pushing Vanessa’s buttons.

  “The press releases need only basic updates — sale times, dates. We’ve never included more than basic siring information in those, so we continue with that format, pointing buyers to the website for more detailed information.”

  Mitchum cleared his throat, looking from Mat to Vanessa and back again. “You two have this under control, then. Vanessa, you handle the viewing appointments. Mat, you work the crew schedule for the extra movements. I have an appointment in town. Play nicely.”

  Vanessa waited until her grandfather was gone and then turned on him.

  “How dare you question my commitment to this job in front of my family.”

  “You don’t leave me much to go on.” Mat planted his hands on the desk and leaned over. “You blow through here once or twice a year, you upset the general balance of things, and then you go back to your mansion in San Antonio or a vacation in the south of France. How do I know you aren’t just filling time until something better comes along?”

  “I didn’t realize having a one-night stand with the boss’s granddaughter filled you with integrity.” Hurt laced her words, making Mat feel even more like a heel. “Deal with your own double-standard, Mat, but leave me out of it. I may not be a Texas girl like my sisters, but I don’t quit on the things I care about, and I care about this job.”

  “If you care about it so much, why are you waiting until the eleventh hour to start working on it?” He had her, he could see it in the flash of indecision in her ice blue eyes. The victory left a hollow feeling in his chest.

  “I’m not the one who went looking for something better the night of Kathleen’s wedding. I’m not the one who disappeared before morning. How do any of us know you’ll still be around the day of the sale?”

  “Oh, you can bet I’ll be here, honey.” He caressed her cheek with his palm. She leaned into the touch, her eyes half-closed. The temptation to lean in and kiss her was too strong. Mat brushed his lips against her softness, breathing in the scent of wildflowers and honeysuckle.

  Vanessa opened to him and for just a moment, the sale and his doubts about her fell away. They were simply two people
attracted to one another, like the night of the wedding. Mat was around the desk in a second. He pushed her against the wall, pressed his left leg between her thighs and ravished her mouth. Vanessa leaned against the wall, giving him better access to her neck. She buried her hands in his hair, holding his mouth against her fair skin.

  The ringing phone blasted them apart like the proverbial bucket of cold water. They both breathed heavily for a second. He stared into her eyes. She nibbled the corner of her mouth. Gradually her hands loosened at his nape and fell to her sides. The phone continued to bleep into the room.

  Running her hands over her hair, Vanessa stepped around him, controlled her breathing and answered. She told the caller the sale dates and mentioned the pre-viewings. After she hung up, Vanessa turned to him.

  “That shouldn’t happen again.”

  He couldn’t agree more and the thought killed him. Because Mat wanted that kiss to go on and on, to lead into a bed this time instead of a hay barn.

  “If you’re hell-bent on the viewings, we’re going to be working closely together. It’s going to happen again.”

  “Doesn’t have to. We can keep things separated. Work is work. We focus on the sale.” The ice queen was back, hiding the Vanessa he’d glimpsed the night of Kathleen’s wedding, the women he’d kissed just a second ago. “I won’t drop the ball on the sale or the party, Mat, whatever your misconceptions of me are. I’m here for the next two months and then … I’ll figure out what’s next.” She held out her hand. He reluctantly took it.

  Working with Vanessa. California might not be as far from Texas as he’d hoped.

  • • •

  “Have you lost your mind?” Mat slammed a clipboard down on her desk, anger radiating from the set of his shoulders to the annoyed squint in his eyes.

  “Hello, Mat. Nice afternoon, isn’t it?” Vanessa didn’t need to ask what was wrong this time. It could be only one thing: Mat agreed to the bull viewings but he didn’t want them. And the first view was set up for this afternoon because the potential buyer needed to get back to Montana before the holidays.

  “It was a perfectly nice afternoon before I fielded six calls from buyers wanting to view the sale bulls before Christmas. In two days. They’re not getting their wish, by the way, so stop making promises.” He pushed away from the desk and pointed his thumb toward the truck idling outside the barn. “Then these yahoos pulled in and informed me they wanted to ride up to the bull pasture to see four bulls that haven’t been tagged and separated from the larger herd.”

  “I know, isn’t it great?” Vanessa ignored the annoyance and focused on the positive — already the plans for the sale were getting more interest from buyers. “They have to get back to Montana before the holidays and won’t be back here before February. We’ll all ride up together.” She grabbed her jacket from the chair and started for the door.

  Mat stood in front of the door, blocking her exit. “I agreed to the viewings in January, not December. We haven’t built the pens, we’re short-staffed because some of the guys wanted to go home for the holidays and three of these bulls aren’t technically at sale weight yet.” He ticked off the list of grievances on his fingers as if he were keeping score.

  Vanessa clenched her jaw and counted to five. “One, this buyer can’t be back here before the sale. One. Viewing. Four bulls. They’re Montana ranchers. We’ll either drive up in the truck or you can ride up horseback and I’ll drive a gator. Two, there is no such thing as sale weight. Once these guys are over a thousand pounds, it’s time to go. I may not have studied agriculture in college but I did pick up a few things over the years.” In truth most she’d picked up in the past few days of researching things like scrotum size and semen counts but that was beside the point.

  “They’ll look scraggly beside the other bulls. Another month of feeding and they’ll be fine. This could hurt their chances at sale.” Mat gritted his teeth.

  She hadn’t considered that. Sale weight. Damn. “So we’ll take them off the view list.” She folded her arms over her chest and tapped her booted foot against the hardwood floor. “They’re already here. Are you really going to toss them off the ranch?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show these bulls today if you agree no more viewings until after New Year’s. That will give my crew time to prepare.”

  “Perfectly reasonable, Mr. Barnes.”

  “Don’t start that ‘Mr. Barnes’ crap with me again, Vanessa.” Mat sighed. “Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

  “Why do you have to complicate things?”

  He held open the door and waved her through. “Just get in the damn truck.”

  “That was my plan all along,” she said sweetly.

  Brown grass and a few scrubby bushes dotted the hillside before Vanessa, making her feel like she entered foreign territory. Which was silly. She was exactly ten minutes from the main ranch house, in a truck with Mat and the buyers, on land she’d walked as a teenager. Being up close to the foliage after a few years of avoiding everything about ranch life and the brush dotting the Texas hills looked different, though. Alien, almost. Coleche glinted against the hills as the sun peeked out from behind one heavy, gray cloud.

  They passed by two pastures with horses. Most were mounts for the cattle crews, but a few were Kathleen’s. Horses she was training for ranch work or that she had rescued from abusive owners. In a pasture by himself, a large, black Thoroughbred tossed his head as the truck passed by. It had to be Jester, Kathleen’s pride and joy. A horse she planned to show at the World Equestrian Games. Vanessa made a note to ask about the horse the next time they struggled to find sisterly conversation topics.

  The truck bumped over the cattle guard and the lowing of cattle could be heard over the engine sounds. The buyers in the backseat talked quietly. Mat drove, eyes focused ahead and a Don’t Talk To Me expression on his face. The look should have put Vanessa off but instead made her more curious. A few birds sang from the trees outside the truck and she tried to catch a glimpse.

  Was his annoyed only about the early viewings? Or was it a combination of the viewings, her being back and their wedding night rendezvous? Vanessa had a feeling it was the latter and the thought cheered her. She knew it was a childish reaction but it was nice knowing she could affect him.

  Vanessa patted the camera on the seat beside her. Excitement built in her. Her first actual assignment — pictures of the sale bulls — began now. The buyers were icing on the cake. Spending more time with Mat, even when he was annoyed, was the fire to the candles burning on top.

  Mat stopped the truck at the fence line. Fat, black cattle dotted the hillside, orange tags in their ears. The tags, she knew, were for sale records — each tag number was unique to the bull. She grabbed the camera and slid from the seat, following the Montana buyers and Mat to the barbed wire fence. Only the gate was metal.

  Arms draped over the top, Mat chatted with the buyers about the bulls, pointing out three from the list — the three biggest. Size mattered, Vanessa mused.

  “If we had more time we could accommodate a closer view,” he said as Vanessa snapped pictures of the herd.

  The Montana buyer waved a hand in the air. “We knew it would be close. I like the looks of 4-235.”

  Mat grinned. “One of the stronger two year olds. I can fax his vitals once the information sheets are ready.”

  “Do that.”

  Vanessa slid through the fence slats but before she could take a step, Mat grabbed the bottom of her jacket, holding her fast against the fence.

  “I can’t believe I’m asking this for the second time in an hour, but have you completely lost your mind?” The words were barely more than a whisper but Vanessa heard the recrimination loud and clear. The buyers had wandered farther down the fence line. They pointed to the bulls, made a few notations on their papers. They paid no
attention to Mat, holding her hostage against the fence. “Get your pretty little butt back on this side of the fence.”

  “I need pictures of the bulls. Two birds, one stone,” she said, holding up the camera. “You’re talking up the beef, I’ll just grab a few shots.”

  “You are not going into a pasture with a herd of bulls, alone, and on foot.”

  “They’re perfectly calm.”

  “You’re perfectly insane.” He tugged the jacket and Vanessa felt herself being pulled back through the slats.

  “Mat, just let me do my job.” She glanced to the left. No longer were the buyers watching the bulls, they watched Mat and Vanessa, instead. God, she must look like a fool. “I am not going to be pulled back through this fence like a toddler. The buyers are watching, for Pete’s sake,” she fiercely whispered. “Let me go and I’ll climb right back over.”

  “Promise?” Mat’s gaze bored into hers.

  “Pinkie swear.”

  Mat released her jacket and Vanessa stood, straightened her shoulders and jacket and took a single step away from the gate. She put the camera to her eye and clicked once, twice, before taking a backwards step to the gate. The herd under-imposed behind the new website header would be a great addition.

  Something snorted. Vanessa looked up and saw one of the bulls eyeing her like she was the piece of meat. Her mouth went dry. She dropped the camera but couldn’t make her legs move. The massive, black bull snorted again.

  “Mat?”

  “Just keep coming. Slowly. No sudden moves.” His voice was calm, and she glanced over her shoulder. He put his arm through the fence, motioning her to move with his hand, but his attention trained to the beast in the field. Another snort and Vanessa’s attention focused on the animal across the pasture.

  Her pulse rate sky rocketed. Lord, what was she thinking going into a pasture filled with bulls alone? She’d been caught up in the moment, in the high of doing a good job on the website revamp. Of finally pulling her weight with the ranch. She took one step, two and felt the gate at her back.