She turned out the porch light so it wouldn’t attract bugs, then tilted the chair onto its back legs and leaned against the side of the house. At this angle, she could see the stars overhead, something she enjoyed, but never saw in Phoenix. She could also see the house and the barn from where she was sitting. There was a light on and she wondered if Cam left a nightlight on for the animals. That thought made her smile, but then she sobered as she considered her situation.
She had never been one to back away from a challenge. In fact, she usually marched right out to meet one. But didn’t she already have enough challenges to meet without having Cam thrown into the mix, checking up on her? Distracting her.
As if just thinking his name could conjure him, Cam emerged from the barn and started toward the house. She was surprised to see him because she thought he’d gone to bed.
There was enough moonlight for her to be able to watch him striding toward the house. He moved with the same quick stride that she’d observed all day. Didn’t the man ever get tired? He’d been up since early morning, had received the good news of the new arrivals in the family, saw his mother off, dealt with Billie, worked around the place, helped with dinner, and attended a city council meeting. Still, his steps didn’t drag. He didn’t seem tired at all. Maybe he had enormous reserves of energy, or maybe he was as keyed up as she was.
Or maybe he was mad about having to be the liaison with her and couldn’t sleep for that reason.
When he was almost out of sight, she leaned over to catch another glimpse of him. She felt the chair tip beneath her. She jerked to right herself, overcorrected, and went crashing to the porch floor.
“Oomph!”
She barely had time to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her when she heard Cam’s running footsteps. He bounded onto the porch and nearly tripped over her.
“Hey, Bigfoot,” she groused, embarrassed at what she had done. “Watch where you’re going.”
“What happened?” Cam reached down to pick her up. With little effort, he had her on her feet. “Are you all right?”
She brushed his hands away. His touch was too disturbing, anyway. “I’m fine. I was simply trying to relax a little and the chair tipped over.” No need to tell him what she’d been doing when it had tipped over. “What were you doing in the barn?”
“Checking on Ruby. She’s the one who’s got a gash on her leg. Looks better now, though.”
“Oh, well, I would have thought you’d be in bed by now. After all, you made such a point of telling me how early all of you get up around here and get to work. Don’t you think you should be sleeping? All snuggled up in bed, and . . . .” She took a breath, turned her face away from him and murmured, “Shut up, Billie.”
Cam chuckled. “I get plenty of sleep. Why are you still up, lounging around on the porch?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She turned to face him, trying to see him in the moonlight. His face was too shadowed, so she couldn’t read his expression. “Did you argue against me with the city council? Try to get them to cancel the contract?”
“No, of course not.” He sounded taken aback. She wished she could read his expression. “I argued that you deserved a chance.”
“You did?”
“Sure. Everyone deserves a chance. Besides, if we’re not happy with your work, we don’t have to pay you.”
“That’s not what the contract says.”
“I suppose the contract is open to interpretation.”
She thought about that for a second. “Maybe. How did you get stuck being the liaison?”
“I volunteered.”
She gaped at him in surprise, then lifted her chin in a nod. “Oh, I get it. You want to keep an eye on me.”
“That and help you if you need it,” he responded in a low tone. “Like I said, everyone deserves a chance.”
Billie felt a thrill of alarm trace itself up her spine. There was something about his voice that made her want to move closer to him. He was close enough, already. She could smell the aftershave he’d splashed on before going to that night’s meeting. It was mixed with the essence of leather and horse, and his own unique scent. Heady stuff. Completely of their own will, her feet edged closer to him.
She looked up, trying to read the expression in his eyes, but it was too dark to see. That made this closeness even more exciting. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was huskier than she intended.
Cam reached down and took her hand, sending warmth spreading through her like warm honey falling from a honeycomb. The sensation was just as sweet.
Her head fell back as she tried to see the expression in his eyes.
Cam covered her hand with his, trapping her between the hardness of his chest and the roughness of his palm, holding her in place with his warmth. “Besides, we know you’re on a deadline because you need to get to – where is it? Borneo?”
The warmth of his touch was completely at odds with the coldness of his voice.
“That’s right,” she said. She knew she should pull her hand away, but his tone gave her a perverse pleasure in keeping it in place.
“What will you be photographing there?”
“Endangered species, specifically orangutans.”
“I understand orangutans don’t like it when their territory is invaded.”
In the darkness, she tried to decipher his expression. She felt tension ripple along his arm, but still she didn’t move her hand. “They’re not the only ones,” she said in a low tone.
Silence stretched between them, seeming to pull at her, drawing her to him. She lifted onto her toes, straining to see his face until Cam said, “Get some sleep, Billie,” he said roughly. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Gently, he lifted her hand away from him.
Billie thumped back onto her heels as if he’d pushed her. Good grief, what was she thinking? She shook her head as if she was coming out of a fog.
“Yes,” she answered, too heartily, turning, nearly stumbling over the chair, picking it up and holding it before her like a shield. “Time for sleep. Good night.”
She whipped around and hurried into the house before she could do anything else to make a fool of herself.
She hurried inside and closed the door, then began pacing the room. What had she been thinking? That Cam was an attractive man certainly. Her face burned at how close she had come to . . . to what? She certainly wasn’t going to kiss him or throw herself at him.
He’d made it very clear that a deadline loomed. True, it was one of her own making, but he seemed to hold it up like a shield to remind her of when she had to be gone. Or was he reminding himself?
Ridiculous, she thought. His only concern was getting the calendar shoots finished and getting her out of his hair. She barely knew the man and, given his attitude toward her, that’s how things would stay.
* * *
Billie didn’t need an alarm the next morning to have her up and moving, excited to begin her first day of photographing the workings on the ranch. She decided it would be a good idea to start the day on Cam’s good side – provided she could find one.
“Well, okay,” she muttered to herself as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. “There is a good side to him. A really good side.”
He had stood up for her with the city council and he had almost been approachable last night in the dark. She squirmed inwardly at how attracted she’d felt to him.
She rinsed her mouth and eyed herself in the mirror. “Make a note. Do not stand around any more dark places with Cameron Van Peter.”
She dressed quickly in jeans and a bright red scoop-neck T-shirt, then covered it with a loose chambray shirt against the morning chill. She tied on her sneakers, swirled her hair into a loose topknot on the crown of her head, and raced to the kitchen.
Jess had mentioned that the back door of the ranch house was usually unlocked, so she simply invited herself in. She hurried into the kitchen and was delighted to discover
that she was the first one up. Quickly, she went through the cupboards to find coffee and filters. She was pleased that, for all her seemingly scatter-brained ways, Doreen Van Peter had a well-organized and stocked kitchen – things Billie hadn’t had time to notice while helping with dinner last night.
One of her many jobs had been that of short-order cook, so in no time at all, she had bacon sizzling in a big frying pan on the stove, pancake batter mixed and waiting for the griddle to heat, and coffee dripping tantalizingly into the carafe.
Billie lifted a stack of plates, balanced four juice glasses on top, and grabbed a handful of silverware from the drawer. Turning to set the table, she was brought up short when Cam entered the room. He was hurrying, buttoning his shirt as he came. His damp hair tumbled over his forehead as if he’d wet it down and run hasty fingers through it. Unbidden came the thought that she would like to photograph him like that – clean, rugged, ready to start the day, and then photograph the opposite -- coming in after a hard day, sweat-stained, earthy, tired, but satisfied with a good day’s work.
She was so caught up in her fantasy, she didn’t realize she had stopped in the middle of the floor and was staring at him. Cam seemed as taken aback to see her as she was to see him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, tossing something onto the table.
“Cooking breakfast,” she said in a what?-are-you-blind? kind of voice. “You said everyone helps out.”
His gaze scanned the kitchen, noting the coffee, the sizzling bacon, and the bowl of pancake mixture. His eyes came back to her and gave her a long, considering assessment.
“Looks good,” he said, and a slow smile spread across his face. “I’m beginning to see a few benefits from having you around.”
Flustered, she could feel a wash of pink rushing to her cheeks. “Thank, . . . uh, thank you.”
“Need some help?”
She finally unglued her feet from where they’d been stuck on the linoleum and moved to the table. “No thanks, I can handle it.”
With a shrug, Cam poured himself a cup of coffee and seated himself at the table. He picked up the items he’d tossed down and began sifting through them.
Billie gave him an uneasy look. Somehow it had never occurred to her that she’d have an audience while she cooked. And where on earth were Jess and Brian? Didn’t they sleep here, too?
She picked up the bowl of batter and began expertly spooning it onto the griddle. “What are those?” she asked.
“Pictures of my new nephews. Mom emailed them and I printed them out.” He held them out to her.
She set down the bowl and took the photos of the two red-faced, unfocused infants.
“They’re beautiful,” she said.
“I think they look like those Japanese anime characters with the big heads,” he responded. “But I won’t tell my sister that.”
Billie laughed and turned back to her pancakes. “Don’t you have some, um, milking to do, or something?’ she asked, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes.
A crack of laughter had her glancing over her shoulder. Amusement flickered in her eyes.
“What?”
“We don’t keep milk cows,” he informed her, then sipped from his cup. “Of course, I could go out and buy some if you’d like to make milking and butter churning part of your daily routine. Cheese, maybe. I’ve always liked homemade cheese.”
Miffed, she returned to her chore, watching the bubbles forming in the pancakes, waiting for them to appear a bit dry before flipping them over. “No thanks, I’ve got plenty to do.”
He chuckled again and she realized she’d done what she hoped not to do, made him laugh at her. On the other hand, he was simply amused at her and not derisive, so she told herself to relax. There were worse things than being alone in a cozy kitchen with an attractive man at six o’clock in the morning.
She was saved from further conversation by the arrival of Jess and Brian who shuffled in looking sleepy-eyed and grumpy until they saw that she was cooking. Their faces brightened.
“Hey, this is alright,” Jess said, giving Billie an appreciative look. “She’s beautiful and she can cook.”
Billie grinned at him over her shoulder. He was such an unabashed flirt that she couldn’t take him seriously. “Wait ‘til you taste these before you make judgments.”
“Or you could just quit trying to be the ladies’ man for about five minutes and we can talk about what we’re doing today,” Cam groused.
“Sure, boss,” Jess said easily, but his gaze swung from Cam to Billie and back again. Grinning, he sat down with a cup of coffee.
“So what are we doing today?” Brian asked. Billie was happy to see that he didn’t seem so downcast this morning.
“I’m shoeing Chaser. He’s such a hardhead I’ll have to give him a happy shot to keep him calm, and Brian, I’ll need you to hold his head and keep his nose in the feedbag.”
“Happy shot?” Billie asked, looking around from the stove. She had several stacks of pancakes done, so she carried them to the table. Brian followed with bacon, syrup, and butter. The men began helping themselves.
“Tranquilizer,” Cam answered. He took a bite of pancake, chewed thoughtfully for a second, then speared another forkful and said, “These are pretty good.”
“Thank you, but don’t change the subject. Why does the horse need a tranquilizer?” She frowned and drew back. “Shoeing doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“Nah, but some horses just don’t like having their hooves messed with. And this will be Chaser’s first set of shoes. If the first shoeing goes bad, they always go bad.”
This was something she needed to make note of. Excitedly, she jumped up, searched through kitchen drawers until she found a pad and pen and began scribbling remarks.
“I plan to photograph the whole process.” When he started to speak, she held her hand in the air like a stop sign. “And no, I won’t get in your way.”
Cam gave her a quick nod, then went on with what he was saying. Happiness sizzled in Billie’s veins. She was starting, she was actually starting today.
“When we’re finished with the shoeing, Brian will come help you get going on the new hay barn,” Cam said to Jess. “If you can get the posts up today, it won’t take but a couple of days to get the beams and the roof on.”
Billie looked up from her notes. “You’re going to build a barn in a few days?” She was picturing the big, old-fashioned red barns of the east and Midwest. There was no way that two men could have one of those built in a few days.
“Hay barn,” Cam said. “Open sides, poles holding up the roof. Protects the hay from the elements but it’s cheaper to build, easier to stack and unstack the hay.” He looked back at Jess. “Dig the holes, pour in the concrete, set the poles, pour in more concrete . . . .”
“Boss,” Jess protested. “I’m the architect, remember?”
“Almost architect,” Brian corrected.
“Whatever. I know what I’m doing.”
Cam stood abruptly. “Then get busy doing it.”
Jess and Brian scrambled to finish eating, then cleaned up the kitchen while Billie hurried to her little house for her equipment. She decided to forgo the tripod so she could get in closer for candid shots. Within a few minutes, she was running to the corral, long legs stretching out to cover the ground, hair loosening from her topknot and sliding down her neck.
Billie slowed down when she reached the corral so she wouldn’t startle the horse. She had learned early on to be calm and to move slowly around animals. Cam, who had put on a pair of leather chaps, was giving Chaser the shot in his neck. He finished with a gentle pat and murmured some words of encouragement to the animal, bending close to his ear. Billie whipped her camera up and snapped off several shots of the tender scene.
Cam glanced over his shoulder, cautious, ready to be defensive. Billie gave him a huge, excited smile.
Cam fought a grin. How could he be annoyed with someone who was so wound up about her wor
k? Who was so wound up to learn about his work?
He crouched down beside his anvil and began bending the ends of the horseshoe nails. He’d better watch what he was doing and keep his mind off of Billie. He’d been kicked more than once by a horse when he’d become distracted.
Brian strode up and snagged the rope holding Chaser’s head. He picked up a bucket of feed and held it up so that the horse could begin chomping on the treat. Bending his head low, he murmured to the horse while Cam picked up a hoof and began clipping away at Chaser’s uneven, overgrown toe.
Billie peppered him with so many questions, that he finally started a running commentary as he worked on each hoof. After the first hoof was done, it didn’t even bother him that she was snapping away, getting in close. If Chaser hadn’t been tranquilized, he would have worried more, but as it was, he didn’t mind having her there. He knew that ordinarily, he would have been a lot less talkative, but it was flattering to have her hanging on his every word, acting like he was the world’s greatest expert at horseshoeing, giving him a big smile whenever he looked up. True, it took longer to finish the job because he had to stop and explain things, but he didn’t mind – even though he was doing all his talking through a mouthful of horseshoe nails.
Billie was enthralled at how efficient Cam was. It seemed that no motion was wasted. She watched as he took a nail from his mouth, tapped it in at a diagonal, then clipped off the end he had previously bent. He dropped the mallet, head up, into his boot where it would be easy to grab, and picked up another shoe. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause, and had the job finished in about forty-five minutes. It struck her that he must have shod many horses to have gained this kind of expertise.
When he had finished the last hoof, he told Brian to go ahead and help Jess. “I’ll be along as soon as I finish cleaning up here.”
Brian loped off and Billie asked, “Can I help clean up?”
Cam gave her a quick look, then handed her a long magnet attached to a handle. “Run this over the ground to find any lost nails or pieces of metal. I don’t want to get a flat tire on the truck or trailer.”
Here To Stay (Welcome to Lucky Break, Arizona!) Page 5