by Joann Baker
“We don’t need an accountant.” Cal snapped, hearing the snarl in his voice and knowing better than anyone exactly why they—he—needed help with the books. He’d been covering for Gabe, most of his adult life, but especially these last couple of years when Gabe had seemed to morph into someone none of them knew anymore.
He knew Gramps and Pops had called Ryder a man-whore on more than one occasion because of the women who had seemed to come and go in his life faster than a flash flood roaring down the mountain. But Gabe…Cal mentally shook his head. Gabe was in a class by himself when it came to women. And he did not mean that as a compliment.
Still, it rankled that Pops had taken it upon himself to hire someone. Did Pops think he had been shirking his duties? His brows drew together in a frown. “I’m taking care of it.”
“You’re exhausting yourself, son. It’s time you took a minute or two for yourself before you work your life away and get old and used up like me.”
The words were meant to be comforting, but Cal’s irritation quickly switched to worry as concern for his grandfather overrode his feelings of inadequacy. “Are you sick, Pops? I can call Doc.”
“I’m not sick, Cal.” Harvey patted his grandson’s arm. “I just want you to live your life. Don’t get so busy trying to do everything that you forget how to live.”
Stunned by his grandfather’s impassioned speech, Cal was at a loss for words. How had Pops known he was feeling stifled? Letting someone else take over the bookkeeping would free up several hours a day, but what would he do with that time? It had been so long since he’d thought of himself that he had no idea anymore what he would even consider fun.
Getting to know the pretty accountant better would be a start.
“I’m fine, Pops. I don’t mind the bookkeeping.” He said the word just to annoy the Amazonian redhead that had set his body on full alert. Even as he uttered the words, though, Cal knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. For the last month or so, he’d started to hate every minute of the tedious, detailed work of accounting. Hell, he’d begun to resent a lot of things recently.
“Well, I mind. You’re a young man. You should be out having fun on a Saturday night instead of sitting here counting horses.” Harvey cleared his throat, satisfied that the tension in the small room was thick enough to cut with a knife and the fact that it wasn’t all due to Cal’s stubbornness about giving up control of the accounts. Harvey had been young once, and he still wasn’t so old that he didn’t recognize sexual attraction between a man and a woman. A bright red blush covered Kristen’s fair skin, and Cal’s jaw had tightened so much, he was afraid his grandson would crack a tooth. He couldn’t wait to tell Silas.
“Now,” he turned to the young woman who hadn’t been able to take her eyes off his grandson, “Kristen, as you may have guessed, this is my grandson, Cal. Even though it may not look like it, he’s been the one keeping up with the accounts and records even after putting in a full day of work on the ranch. I’m sure you understand what a load he’s been carrying.”
“Look Pops, I know you’re trying to help, but this isn’t necessary.”
The tone of Cal’s voice was one Harvey had dubbed the peacemaker. Always having to step in and keep the peace between Ryder and Gabe, the boy hadn’t learned how to show his emotions. He glanced at the fiery redhead looking at his grandson with daggers in her eyes. Yep, Otis had been correct. His niece was one firecracker—and just what Calhoun needed. Whether he knew it or not.
“It’s for your own good, son,” Harvey insisted stubbornly. Now his grandson was blushing like a schoolboy with his first crush. So far, everything was going the way he’d hoped. “I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted.” With a speed that belied his years, he rushed from the room.
“Well, your grandfather certainly looks out for you.”
“Always has,” Cal replied curtly, hating the flip-flop of his stomach as he looked into Kristen’s sky-blue eyes. He spread his legs and crossed his arms in the same intimidating stance he’d seen Gabe use a thousand times on misbehaving cowboys. “And I don’t know how you convinced him to let you in here, but whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work. My grandfather is a softie when it comes to helping people, but I’m a little less easy to snow.”
Kristen bristled at his insinuation. She looked at him standing there, feet apart, arms crossed over his massive chest, muscles straining the confines of his western cut shirt and felt not the least bit of her earlier timidity at his male beauty.
Once again mimicking his stance, she crossed her arms and tilted back her head, giving her the appearance of looking down her nose at him. It was a little something she’d learned when dealing with her father’s creditors after his death. As much as she’d loved her father, it had come as quite a shock to learn that he hadn’t been the astute businessman she’d always thought. His death had revealed the fact that his business as a financial advisor had dwindled to next to nothing and that he’d invested his own money in some very unprofitable ways. In other words, he’d lost the money he’d worked hard to earn, as well as the money left to him by his parents. Kristen still didn’t know how long the misfortune had been going on. Long enough, however, for there to be some major debt to pay off upon his death.
Her mother hadn’t been any help, refusing to give up her lavish lifestyle until Kristen had cut up her credit cards. That had ended in a mother-daughter showdown that had left harsh feelings on both sides. Deciding to dust off her accounting degree, she’d turned to the only family member she thought might be able to help them out of their dire situation. Her Uncle Otis. She told him everything about her family circumstances despite her mother’s protests. Fortunately, he’d immediately invited her to come work with him. All that concerned Kristen, was the fact that she was going to be able to make a decent living at a job she actually enjoyed.
Or had enjoyed. Gabe Anderson wasn’t at all what she’d expected. She’d worked incredibly hard for her degree and the last thing she wanted was someone looking down his nose at her thinking she wanted something for nothing.
“I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Anderson, but let me assure you, I have no interest in you, your ranch or your money. My only concern is the job that I was hired by your grandfather to do.” Uncrossing her arms, she jabbed one finger at the books and papers crowding the overloaded desk. “This job. The one that you apparently attempt to do when you can spare a minute or two.” Her red curls bounced at the forceful shake of her head. “Let me tell you what I do know, accounting is a serious business. So why don’t you leave it to a professional.” Like, me, she added silently to herself. Tired of putting up with the cowboy’s bad attitude, she wave her fingers dismissively. “Now run along and play with your little horses.”
Damn the woman. Cal hated to admit that she was right—but she was. The books were in bad shape, and the data entry was several months behind. This year, Otis had applied for an extension on the ranch’s tax returns because Cal hadn’t been able to get everything in order before the filing deadline. Plus, it had been inexcusable to accuse her of using his grandfather to get this job, no matter how lightly veiled the insinuation had been. She’d caught on to him pretty quickly, proving she was smart as well as beautiful.
The fact that he hadn’t been able to keep up with everything wasn’t her fault. He shouldn’t be taking his bad mood out on her.
“Look,” he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, feeling the ache of muscles knotted with tension, “I think we need to start again. Pops apparently had both of our best interests at heart, and we should try to get along for his sake. So what do you say?”
Kristen ignored the part of her that wished he was talking about something other than her working there as she stared at his outstretched hand. Her uncle would never forgive her if she blew this. Not only was the Ace in the Hole his largest account, but Otis and Harvey were also his best friends. Besides, after the chance he’d taken on her, she’d owed it to him to se
e this through.
“Agreed.” She had to clear her throat before she spoke since the man before her was making her choke on her own drool. Damn, damn, damn, but he was a fine looking specimen of manhood, and her heretofore dormant womanly parts had certainly awoken with a vengeance. She put her hand in his, intending a brief shake on their new commitment. She wasn’t prepared for the immediate tingle that shot from her hand, up her arm, and into her chest, where warmth burst like a balloon and spread outward. As unobtrusively as possible, she pulled her hand from his. “I guess we need to get started then.”
“Can’t right now.” Cal shook his head, hating the way his body responded to the excited gleam in her wide eyes. “I have to go… play with my horses.” Her stunned look had him grinning all the way to the barn.
CHAPTER TWO
A WEEK LATER, Cal walked out of the house, tugging his hat lower on his head as he crossed the grounds toward big red barn connected to the training pens. He gave a little snort. He knew he needed to work with Kristen this morning, but there was no way in hell he was about to spend any time cooped up with the beautiful spitfire making herself at home in his office.
No, he needed to do something that would work up a good sweat and get rid of the electricity that hummed through every cell of his body. Though not as much of a womanizer as his oldest brother, Gabe, he wasn’t a monk by any stretch of the imagination. Still, none of the women in his past had ever made his palms sweat or his heart race just by standing in the same room with them.
Reaching for the rake that hung just inside the wide double doors, he entered the first stall and began raking the used hay, expending the pent-up energy roiling inside of him. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet scent of the hay and the more basic smell of the animals on the morning air. The familiar sounds of the ranch met his ears, and he paused, closing his eyes to experience it all, letting the accustomed noises wash over him. As always, they soothed his troubled soul.
Even before his parents’ death, he’d loved everything about ranch life. In elementary school, he’d joined 4-H and, as he’d gotten older, took part in the junior rodeos whenever possible. He’d often wondered how he would have fared competing on the pro circuit, but he didn’t regret staying home to work the ranch. Even when work took him away several times a year, he was always eager to get back to the Ace in the Hole. It was his home. He couldn’t imagine ever living anywhere else.
He went back to raking the stalls again, more slowly this time, as his thoughts turned again to the woman sitting in his office. Where was she from? Would she remain in Devil’s Spur or find the small town too boring? It was apparent that she’d lived in a larger city. Dallas, maybe. Or Houston. Cal had been to both on many occasions and had found them beautiful but too crowded for his taste. He certainly couldn’t imagine growing up in such an atmosphere.
Maybe that’s why she was so…prickly.
The sound of a pickup pulling up to the barn had him setting the rake aside and moving to the door. He watched as Gabe stepped from the high cab and progressed slowly toward him. His clothes were wrinkled; his face pale, and he held a hand over his eyes to ward off the bright morning sun.
“Rough night?”
“No. The night was fine. It’s the morning that sucks.”
Cal shook his head, holding back the words that he wanted to say. How many times had he read his older brother the riot act for coming home hung over? And how many times had he let him slide by, taking on the work that Gabe should have been doing?
“Go take a shower—”
“Then hit the bed. Got it, bro.”
“No.” Cal shook his head as his brother turned back to face him.
“What?”
Cal wasn’t at all surprised by the disbelief he heard in Gabe’s voice. Both Cal and Ryder had been covering for Gabe’s behavior for the past couple of years now. It was almost like second nature for all three brothers. When Gabe was present and in the moment, he was a hell of a foreman. Sadly, that didn’t happen as often as it should have and it had only gotten progressively worse. “Not this time, Gabe. The two-year-olds need to be worked this morning. We’re already behind.”
“That’s Ry’s job.” Bleary eyes looked toward the training ring. “Where is the little shit anyway?”
“Georgia had a doctor’s appointment today.”
“So what? He had to go hold her hand?” Gabe snorted. “He can shirk his work just because his wife has a sniffle, but I can’t go to bed with a headache.”
Cal straightened, walking toward his wayward brother. “His wife is pregnant with your first niece or nephew, you moron. Ry should be with her. You, on the other hand, chose to get drunk and now you have a hangover. You did this to yourself so, no, you can’t wiggle out of work. There’s a lot to do, and I can’t do it all. I’m not covering for your ass anymore.”
Gabe took a step back from Cal’s almost menacing stand. Okay, that was a little exaggeration on his part. Cal had never displayed any overt threats, but, Gabe realized, his brother wasn’t bluffing. Not this time. Gabe had learned over the years just how far he could push everyone in his life. His grandfathers, Ry and Cal. And he did it on a regular basis. He pushed just to see how far they would let him go.
Most times they didn’t push him too hard, treating him with kid gloves. His fists clenched at his sides. He hated that they thought he was unstable, ready to pop off if they gave him a wrong look or spoke the wrong word. He was tough, he’d had to be. Losing his parents had caused his heart to harden. And what had happened later only turned that particular organ into stone.
“Fine. I’ll be back down in a half-hour.” He turned and stalked away.
“Make it twenty minutes,” Cal yelled as he left.
Kristen raised her hands over her head and stretched, trying to work out some of the kinks that had formed from sitting hunched over the keyboard all morning. She closed her eyes, leaning first to the left and then to her right.
“Well, well, well, who do we have here?”
Kristen’s eyes flew open, and a small squeak left her mouth as a deep, masculine voice sounded from the doorway. She looked up and had to blink to bring the form into focus. At first, she’d thought it was Cal, but then her mind realized the voice was all wrong. As her vision cleared, she realized it definitely wasn’t Cal. No, the man who stood before her was far prettier than the other cowboy who had disrupted her dreams for the last several nights. He was leaner in build, and his features could only be described as movie star handsome.
Instantly, the old saying handsome is as handsome does, flew through her mind. This man had heartbreaker written all over him.
He straightened from his deceptively lazy-looking stance by the door and sauntered over. Now there was a word one didn’t get to use too often, she thought with an inward smile. She followed his progress as he took a seat in one of the large leather chairs in front of the equally large oak desk she sat behind. She’d noticed from the get go that everything at the Ace in the Hole was big. The ranch itself, the furnishings, and especially the men.
Before she’d started working here, her uncle had given her the basic rundown on the family dynamics of the Anderson clan. She knew the brothers’ parents had died young in a car crash and the two grandfathers had moved in after the deaths of their wives, to raise the three boys.
What he hadn’t shared was how masculine the Anderson siblings were. It made her, a woman who had sworn off men forever, rethink that train of thought. A picture of Cal popped into her head even though she was sitting in front of the most handsome of the brothers, she was sure.
She had yet to meet Ryder, but she found it incredibly hard to believe that he could be any better looking than his older brother. Gabe Anderson was magazine cover handsome with thick, dark hair that brushed the collar of his blue shirt, curling slightly at the ends, a face that was tanned to perfection beneath the hot Texas sun—and his build…why was the thought of him earning those muscles doing hard physical
labor so much more appealing than him acquiring them by spending hours at the gym?
Maybe because that’s what a real man would do?
Daily workouts with a very expensive trainer had been the way her fiancée—ex-fiancée, she reminded herself in a hurry, with just a trace of bitterness—had acquired his physique. And why he’d been so determined to change the way she looked. But there were some things that she’d never be able to change about herself. Her height and weight were two of them.
She shook away the unwanted thoughts.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
A predatory smile spread across his face. “I can think of at least ten right off the top of my head, sweetheart.” His eyes dropped to her chest, and he gave a wicked little half-smile. Hastily she looked down to see if any of her buttons had come undone.
“And I can think of a dozen ways to have you arrested for sexual harassment,” she fired back.
“Oh, come on, baby, I’m only trying to help you loosen up a bit. You look like a woman in need of a good time, and I’m just the man for the job.” His mouth curved into a full-fledged grin and Kristen felt herself go a little woozy. Man, did his smile pack a punch.
She didn’t know if she should be outraged or flattered by the rugged cowboy’s unwanted attention. His last comment had her leaning toward outrage. Deciding that either way, she needed to nip this incident in the bud before it went any further, she stood up, placing her hands flat on the desk leaning towards him in a no-nonsense manner. She knew she’d made a mistake the moment his eyes fell back to her chest, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of cowering at his bold look.
“Look here—”