On Common Ground

by Jansen Schmidt

  “Looks like maybe you’re not so fine after all.” He positioned the saddle atop the horse.

  She collapsed against the stall door. Why did she suddenly feel like crying? God, he’s infuriating.

  “Or does it always take you this many tries to saddle a horse?” He tightened the cinch when the horse blew out the breath it had been holding.

  She banged her fists against the stall door behind her. He was so damn sure of himself. She hated that he was physically stronger than her. It was uncanny the way he showed up, at the exact moment she needed assistance.

  “I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking it easy today. There’s no shame in slacking off a little after you’ve been sick.”

  “I don’t get paid to lie in bed.”

  Trevor smiled down at her and waggled his eyebrows, “Well, you could, but that would be an entirely different kind of work.”

  “Oh geez. Why do guys always think about sex?”

  “We don’t always think about sex.”

  “Oh, really. I’ll just bet when I say kinky you don’t immediately think of an old garden hose.”

  His brows raised as one hulking shoulder leaned against the stall door. He chuckled.

  A spasmodic and unexpected wave of pure cockiness washed over her with tsunami force. She leaned into him. “If I say missionary, I suppose you immediately think of a religious person spreading the word of God.”

  “Well, spreading would be part of it.”

  “And if I say breasts, you automatically think of fried chicken, I suppose.” She was on a roll and didn’t even realize how close they were standing.

  His eyes lowered to her chest, then met her eyes again with a seductive glimmer. Shaking his head slowly, he drawled, “Well, you got me there, Darlin’. I will admit that Colonel Sanders was not the first thing that came to my mind.”

  “Pfftt.” She took a step sideways around him. As if anticipating the move, he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders, forcing her against the wall. “Two can play that game, you know.”

  She tried to duck under his arm, but he stepped closer, pinning her in. How did he always manage to get her at a disadvantage? His eyes glittered with merriment and his lips twitched. The shadow of stubble on his jaw line added a not unpleasant rakish effect to his gorgeous chiseled face.

  “When I say lips, what immediately comes to your mind?” he questioned with raised brows.

  Ketra gritted her teeth, refusing to look at his mouth. “Chapstick.”

  He moved closer and lowered his voice. “And when I say…kiss?”

  She swallowed audibly, forcing her eyes away from the appealing curve of his smile. “A rock band.”

  “And, tongue,” he whispered.

  She darted a glance at his full, well-shaped lips. “Shoe.”

  He traced a finger down her jaw, under her chin and back up the other side, stopping just below her ear. Is it even possible to awaken so much sensation in her body with one gentle stroke of a fingertip?

  “When I say, caress? What comes to mind?” His voice was husky, almost a rasp, his breath warm and soft against her cheek.

  Why were her knees turning to jelly? It took every ounce of strength to stay upright. “Soap.”

  Their eyes connected and the world beyond Trevor’s warm massive body ceased to exist. Her entire body came alive with tiny prickles of male awareness.

  “You want to kiss me right now, don’t you?”

  Ketra closed her eyes and shook her head.

  He curled his fingers under her chin and brushed his thumb across her lower lip. “Liar.”

  When he pulled away her traitorous body shuddered with pent up tension. She’d never felt so instantaneously alone. Or cold. Just before he disappeared around the back end of the horse, he turned. “Do you need help getting up?”

  How could he act like their verbal tete-a-tete never happened? She was practically wilting on the floor with desire and he just walked away like nothing happened? She straightened and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “No. But I’ll bet you do.”

  She grasped the pommel of the saddle to mount the horse. Faster than she’d ever seen any man move, Trevor grabbed her around the waist before she got her foot in the stirrup. The feel of his strong hands around her waist thrilled her despite the anger he’d fueled with his indifference. She must be insane to be so excited and angry at the same time.

  He hauled her against his chest. She felt his anger suppressed beneath a calm facade. She kicked against his thighs until he hissed into her ear. “Shall we find out?” With that, she stilled, letting her entire body go slack in his arms. He set her on her feet and glared at her. “Don’t play games you have no intention of finishing.”

  He walked away. When he was halfway down the breezeway she released a stuttered breath. Why is he so angry? She shouldn’t have taunted him, but he’d made her mad when he teased her into a frustrated frenzy then walked away all self-contained and unaffected. He’d read her emotions and anticipated her moves. How could he have broken through her defenses in a matter of a couple of days?

  She led the mare into the arena, walked her to the fence and stood on the bottom rail in order to reach the stirrup. Horse and rider walked through the barrel pattern, but her mind stayed on Trevor. He was so annoying. And sexy and exciting. He made her think about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. Lips and tongues and caresses. She was here to forget about those things. Damn him to hell for making her want them again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She wanted him to think she was immune to him, but her body had quivered beneath his touch. Her emotional response to his advances proved stronger than her mental fight against it. Her luscious rosebud mouth tempted him beyond reason. But, she wasn’t ready for his kiss. Not yet.

  “You want me to saddle the buckskin?”

  Trevor flinched at Brooks’s voice. Shit. How long has he been in the barn? Had he seen their encounter? And why in God’s name was he contemplating kissing the woman? He wanted to slap himself until reason returned.

  “Thanks, Brooks, but the ATV will be faster. I need to check on another fence, so I’ll be taking some supplies along.”

  He also wanted to be able to get back to the ranch in a hurry in case something happened to Ketra. She was still weak, her attempts to saddle and mount the horse this morning were testimony to that. Since he’d failed in his efforts to keep her off duty, his only recourse was to keep an eye on her. Even though her callous words pissed him off, his protective instincts had kicked in. He’d learned a long time ago to trust his instincts. Until recently anyway.

  He backed the ATV close to the tool shed attached to the far end of the barn. An abundance of flies and the ripe tang of ammonia evidenced that the stalls had yet to be cleaned on this side of the barn. He selected various tools from the shed, forcing his mind away from the blonde. He pondered how best to manage the upcoming round-up. Hopefully, the other ranchers Rocky had mentioned would agree to a combined drive. He had huge reservations about Rocky’s crew, most of whom wanted to be cowboys but lacked the skills needed for the job. Rocky must have been desperate for help after his ex-wife’s escapades had forced him to terminate most of his previous crew.

  As he loaded tools on the bed of the ATV, Trevor thought about the story his dad had told about Rocky’s failed marriage.

  They’d been married for nearly twenty years. Theresa, his wife, had never lacked for anything during that time. Although she took very little interest in the operations of the ranch, she rarely complained about a rancher’s long hours. She claimed she’d enjoyed the time she had to herself while Rocky was gone all day. It became apparent why when, on their anniversary a few years ago, Rocky made a surprise trip home and found her naked in their bed with one of the ranch hands. To his embarrassment, he found out that his precious wife had been sleeping
with more than half of his crew. He fired everyone on the spot, told Theresa to get out and never to come back, and a year later they were divorced. Despite her infidelity, Theresa had made a sizeable deposit into her bank account when all was said and done.

  Trevor started the Yamaha and roared away from the barn and the stench of urine and manure, a fitting testament to the recollection of Theresa’s betrayal.

  Though Rocky had re-grouped and made improvements to the ranch, he rarely talked about Theresa. None of the remaining crew dared speak about what had happened. Trevor knew that Rocky was a changed man since, but he didn’t seem cynical or bitter, just determined to be the biggest and best rancher in Arizona. Now, driving over the huge expanse of the Diamond D, he realized how much Rocky’s efforts had paid off. The ranch was both huge and prosperous.

  Trevor hoped he’d be able to recover from his own humiliating ordeal in the same refined manner Rocky had.

  He rode the entire lower pasture fence line and secured all the gates, barring access to the free-range areas beyond. It was well past noon when he returned to the ranch. Ketra was not in the barn or the arena. He figured she was either having lunch or resting. Stopping at his house for a quick sandwich, he checked his e-mails and voicemail then returned to the barn.

  Brooks sat on a grain barrel facing Ketra’s house when Trevor entered the barn. “Hey, Brooks,” Trevor greeted. “How’s it goin’?”

  Brooks shrugged and took a bite of a giant red apple.

  Trevor squatted next to him and pushed his hat to the back of his head. “You been watching out for Miss Ketra this morning?”

  “I always watch her,” Brooks said, his mouth full of apple. “She’s real pretty and she’s nice to me.”

  “Yes, she is. Where do you live? Which bunk house?”

  Brooks pointed behind him at the bunk houses. “With Silas.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Silas is nice to me.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. If anyone ever gives you any trouble, you let me know, okay?”

  “Okay.” Brooks took another bite of his apple, his eyes focused on Ketra’s house.

  While it worried Trevor that Brooks watched over Ketra like a guard dog, he could think of no good reason to make him stop.

  When the object of his musings came out of her house, tossed her golden mane and settled her hat atop her head, Trevor didn’t blame Brooks for staring at her. Pink cheeks and bright eyes peeked out from beneath the wide brim of her Resistol.

  “Feeling better?” He stood when she strode past.

  She skirted around the barrels where the men conversed, keeping her eyes on the ground. “I’m fine.”

  Without stopping, she turned down her corridor of the barn. Brooks threw his half-eaten apple into the dirt and followed her.

  The afternoon flew by as everyone prepared for the cattle drive. Horses were shod, Trik practiced his roping, and Silas sorted supplies into boxes. Rocky and Trevor rode together to check on the water supply again.

  “The Chisholms and Fargos are both on board,” Rocky said when they had ridden a good distance from the ranch buildings. “We’ll drive all the cattle down into the lower pasture then cut out from there. All the guys are good on horseback, so it shouldn’t take too long. When they’re all corralled, we’ll move ours to the upper pasture and cut out the ones for branding.”

  “Sounds good. How many unbranded ones do you usually end up with?”

  “Maybe around a hundred.”

  “So, maybe a day for branding?”

  “At least. Might take longer with this crew.”

  “Who castrates?”

  “I guess that’ll be me and Silas this year. You could join us, but I’m sure we’ll need you to rope.”

  Trevor nodded.

  They stopped atop a small rise and Rocky leaned his arms across the pommel to admire the setting sun. “It sure is pretty out here.”

  “Nothing like it in the world. I thought the same thing when I rode out here the other night.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, basking in the beauty of the setting sun. “Wanna turn them loose?” Rocky turned his mount toward home.

  They kicked at the same time and the horses lunged. When they reached the main barn, the horses were sweating, and Trevor and Rocky’s noses were red from the cold air. Ketra was putting away a saddle, and Brooks tagged along with the rest of the gear. Trevor’s horse skidded to a stop next to Rocky’s. “How come she always carries the heavy stuff?”

  Rocky shrugged, “That’s Ketra. Gotta prove she’s tough.”

  “Why?”

  “Like I said, that’s not my story to tell.” Rocky led his horse into the barn and handed the reins to Brooks. “Rub her down, will you, and give her some grain tonight.”

  “Sure, Mr. Dillinger.”

  “Have a good ride?” Ketra asked Rocky.

  “You bet. You know I love to ride at twilight. It’s my favorite time.”

  “Mine too.”

  “It’s a pretty night,” Trevor said. “Cold, but dang sure pretty.” He never took his eyes off Ketra, and judging by the puzzled look on her face, she must have been wondering whether he was talking about the sunset, or her. He felt her eyes on him as he dismounted.

  “Probably have to use the covered arena tomorrow,” Rocky said to Ketra. “It’s supposed to rain.”

  “You have a covered arena?”

  “Over on the east side,” Rocky motioned with his hand toward the east, behind Trevor’s and Ketra’s cabins. “We put in a covered arena so Kettie could train all year round.”

  He’d not yet ridden to the east, so he’d missed the arena in question. “Wow. You’ve sure invested a lot of money for her.” He vocalized what should have remained a thought. And he sounded boorish, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Rocky had added horse training to his cattle enterprise. The Dillingers had been known for years, if not centuries, for their top-quality beef and honest business dealings. Rodeo horses didn’t fit that mold.

  “What business is it of yours?” Ketra asked. “You waltz in here like you own the place and start spouting out rules and questioning Rocky’s decisions. What he does is none of your damn business.”

  “Hey—”

  “You know what you need to do? You need to take a little trip to the Hokey Pokey Clinic and turn yourself around,” Ketra said.

  Trevor was sure smoke curled from his ears. Rocky took a protective step toward Ketra, laying a hand on her shoulder.

  Trevor’s jaw clamped so tight, he thought his molars might split. After a tense moment of fierce glaring, Trevor unhinged his jaw and laughed sardonically. “You’re not the first person who’s suggested that. Although the other one didn’t put it quite as eloquently as you.”

  “Kettie, go home,” Rocky said. “Trevor’s curious because the last time he was here, the ranch was all about cattle. He’s in charge and he has a right to know what’s going on.”

  He nudged her toward her cabin then removed his hat and wiped his forehead. “Go put that mare away then come up to the house. We’ll talk.”

  Without another word, Rocky disappeared into the gathering dusk, leaving Trevor alone to stew.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ketra’s outburst still irked him but, Trevor managed to calm himself before knocking on Rocky’s door. She’s right. Her business is none of yours. He should let it go. But, her malicious attitude caught him off guard and raised his hackles. He hated raised hackles.

  At the call to enter, he wiped his boots on the rug and hung his hat on a peg near the door. Rocky offered him a beer and motioned for him to sit in the living room. The older man chose a chair to the right of the sofa, taking a long drink of beer before focusing on Trevor’s stony face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the eq
uine operation before I got here?” Trevor asked.

  “That’s not what I needed your help with. The horse training is Ketra’s business. And I’ve already said everything I’m going to say about that.”

  Trevor adjusted his position on the sofa. He took another swallow of beer. “I know she’s your niece.”

  Rocky’s sigh was long and loud. “There’s the detective again. I guess I can’t blame you for being curious.”

  “I’m wondering why you changed your set-up so drastically.”

  A pleasant aromatic combination of chilis and spice wafted from the kitchen, causing Trevor’s mouth to water. When does Rocky find time to cook?

  “Then you must also know Ketra’s mother is my little sister. Who just so happens to be the best horse trainer you’ll ever find anywhere. Mary Jo is absolute magic with horses. Kettie’s almost as good, but not quite. Not yet.”

  Trevor almost laughed. Could he be talking about the same girl who’d taken not one, but two hard falls from a horse the day he arrived? He slugged the remainder of his beer, hoping Rocky would elaborate without prodding. When he didn’t, Trevor asked, “Why doesn’t she train in Oklahoma where she’s from?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” Rocky rose and took Trevor’s empty bottle. “You want another one?”

  “Sure.” Trevor leaned back into the sofa, crossing one long leg over the other. He took the cold beer from Rocky. “I can’t help wondering, if Ketra’s your niece, and you and Dad are best friends, why the hell haven’t I ever seen her out here? Or heard you talk about her or Mary Jo?”

  “Well…” Rocky seemed at a loss for words. “Here’s the thing your Dad and Mary Jo…they were…how shall I say this?” He stared out the window for a few moments. “Mike and Mary Jo dated for two years in high school. On graduation night, he asked her to marry him.”

  When he paused, Trevor did his best to remain impassive, a skill well-honed after years of law enforcement training.

  “Mary Jo had other aspirations,” Rocky said. “She wanted to be a veterinarian. She planned to go to college in Oklahoma. She didn’t exactly say no to the proposal, but she asked Mike to wait until after she finished school. Well, as was typical for Mike, he got pissed off and broke up with her.”