by Mindy Neff
Watching this sexy, five-foot-three dynamo walk right up to an unpredictable cow and sweet-talk it into submission was quite a sight.
As he stood there holding the birdcage, ignoring the bee buzzing around his hat, Sunny lifted her head and looked right at him. He could have sworn the air arced with electricity.
They were going to have to do something about that. Otherwise all these sparks would likely set off a brushfire the size of Texas.
The problem was, he already had one potential disaster on his hands. Inviting another was sheer lunacy.
What he did need to do was talk to his daughter. Soon. Tori had already been abandoned once—and three years later, she still hadn’t fully recovered. Overnight, it seemed, she’d gone from a precocious, energetic, happily rambunctious six-year-old to a poster child for manners, good behavior and decorum.
Hell, most people would say he had the perfect kid. But it just wasn’t right. He’d seen the unguarded side of her, and it tore him up that he hadn’t been able to coax that part of her back out.
But Sunny had—or was making progress, at least.
He didn’t want to cause a setback, but he had to make sure Tori understood that Sunny wouldn’t be here forever.
He wouldn’t have the little girl he’d watched come into this world build false hopes that would only break her heart.
As for his heart—what did it matter? It was already beyond repair.
Had been for ten long years.
Chapter Twelve
Sunny was out of the house before daylight the next morning, her mind racing, but getting her absolutely nowhere. The knots in her stomach were almost squeezing the life out of her, and impatience was riding her hard.
So far she hadn’t accomplished a thing. She felt scattered, edgy, and didn’t have any answers—about the dead cows or Jackson Slade.
How in the world had she convinced herself she could see him again—live in his house, for crying out loud—and not trip herself up with emotions?
In the cool interior of the barn, she turned on the lights and checked on the parrot, then unlatched Violet’s stall and slipped in to have a look at the mare and foal. She spent several indulgent moments petting the baby horse. Then she took a moment to gaze around.
Each stall had an opening that led to sectioned-off paddocks so the horses had plenty of room to roam. The changes Jack had made on the ranch in only three years were impressive. Facilities that had once been sagging from neglect now showed the pride of hard work and caring. And despite the constant activity normal for a highly successful spread, it was peaceful.
She sighed and dropped a kiss on Beauty’s nose. Like her dam, the foal had a sweet disposition. And like a typical youngster, she wasn’t shy about seeking attention.
“You’re going to make your future veterinarian’s job very easy because you’re so sociable,” Sunny crooned, feeling a pang that it wouldn’t be her. After treating Violet to a good scratch, she wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and left the stall.
Needing to do something productive, she sat down on a wooden bench in the stables and plucked her cell phone out of her pocket. Marty’s private line was programmed on her speed dial, so she punched it in and listened to the ten rapid tones she could probably hum from memory if she had an ounce of musical talent. Which she didn’t—much to her mother’s embarrassment. After Sunny had delivered an impromptu solo in church—she’d gotten carried away and belted out the first three lines of a hymn’s final verse before she realized no one else was still singing—Anna had instructed her to never, ever sing again in church.
Marty’s line wasn’t engaging, so she disconnected and hit speed dial again. It rang this time, just as she happened to glance through the open door of the barn. The sky had lightened, but the sun wasn’t yet over the horizon.
“Oh, crud. I forgot about the time difference again,” she muttered. Before she could quickly hit the End button, Marty answered.
“I hope you realize you’re a pain in the south end of a chicken going north,” he said.
Sunny thought about that for a minute. “Maybe I’m not yet awake. Is that one of your riddles, or do you have a headache? And how’d you know it was me?”
“Caller ID. I’ve got a doozy of a headache, thanks for asking. And if the south end of the chicken is headed north, which part of those tail feathers don’t you understand?”
She grinned. “Okay, okay. I’m a pain in your head and your butt. Sounds like you haven’t had your coffee yet. Want me to call back when you’re more civil?”
“I never stopped drinking coffee, babe.”
“You’ve been there all night?”
“Yeah, a certain little blonde keeps badgering me with phone calls and I’m forced to work all night. I only do this for women I really love, you know.”
“I’ll keep you stocked in jelly beans for life.”
“That’s what I like to hear. You, on the other hand, may or may not like to hear my news.”
Her hand tightened on the receiver, and the knots in her stomach twisted a millimeter tighter. “I’m about as tough as they come. Lay it on me.”
“I’m only a quarter of the way through with the herd serum. We got in a local case of C. botulinum and this place is hopping, so—”
“Was it contracted through soil spores or feed?” The interruption was automatic and innate.
“Feed. Lots of little chicken organisms in it. Way too many for the producer to plead ignorance.”
Which meant, Sunny knew, that someone would likely be prosecuted.
“Anyway, babe, you don’t need to get tangled up in what’s going on here, too. Which is why I got behind on your case. It’s a little tough to tell the boss I’m busy with a cooler full of cow blood from our esteemed Dr. Carmichael, when said doctor’s supposed to be vacationing.”
“Don’t get yourself in trouble, Marty. I mean it. If something comes up, you direct it to me, you hear?”
“I hear you, babe, but I’ve still got your back covered.”
Marty was such a sweetheart. He made her laugh, was a loyal friend and rated much better than average in the looks department. Why couldn’t she have fallen for him?
Because she was an idiot, that was why.
She was still hung up on a sexy cowboy who sported a diamond stud in his left ear and wore a tobacco-colored Stetson that made her weak in the knees when he tugged it down just so. A cowboy who did for a pair of chaps what Baryshnikov did for a pair of tights—made you drool.
And the worst part of it was there were no second chances for them. What they’d had together ten years ago didn’t mesh with who they were today. Oh, she could have an affair with him, but more than that just wasn’t in the cards. He had a seven-day-a-week commitment to his Texas ranch, and she had twelve-hour days waiting for her in California.
And dwelling on that wasn’t doing her a bit of good.
“So, what have you found out about my cows, Marty?”
“Zip. That’s the good news. So far, all the ones I’ve tested come up healthy as cows in clover.”
“I think that’s happy as cows in clover. What about the specimens from the expired Angus?”
“I’m still working on that. I’ve tried getting a positive on every disease remotely relative to the information you gave me from your field observation, and every test turns up nonreactive. That’s the rest of the good news. The bad news is you’ve still got dead cows and no explanation or diagnosis. But I’m not giving up just yet.”
That wasn’t good. “Why?”
“Something doesn’t feel right. Or maybe I’ve just been hanging around you too long and you’re turning me into a Worry Willy. I want to try a couple of different techniques.”
The knot in her stomach clenched tighter. Special testing was expensive and time-consuming. Sometimes it could take months to complete. And Marty wasn’t the type to waste money or time on a whim.
“What is it you’re looking for?”
&nbs
p; “Give me some time, babe.”
She stood up and paced the length of the barn. She couldn’t tell if that nonanswer was an evasion or merely a distraction. Marty’s attention span was pretty much hit and miss when he had sophisticated lab toys at his fingertips.
“I don’t have a lot to spare. I can only stay in Texas until the end of the month. That’s two weeks away.”
“I hear you, and I’m on it. Now, quit talking to me and hang up, so I can go drink another gallon of caffeine and get to work. And while I’m at it, I think I’ll fax you the definition of vacation. That’s supposed to be what you’re on, you know, spending a little time to recharge your batteries.”
“My batteries are being charged just fine.” Over-charged, if she wanted to be truthful about it. “And remember what I said. Don’t take any heat for me.”
“I’m hanging up, Doc.”
“Just one more thing.” She heard the heavy sigh that didn’t quite mask the chuckle. “Thank you, Marty. I mean that. I really appreciate what you’re doing.”
“Just send jelly beans.”
She shook her head and smiled as the dial tone buzzed in her ear. Marty would go to bat for her in an instant.
But that wasn’t going to be necessary. One way or another, those supplies she’d requisitioned would be accounted for.
If it turned out they were just barking in the dark, she’d be handing Jack a bill. He’d gladly pay it, too, since it would make a small dent in his wallet compared with having his entire herd destroyed.
The other means of accountability, of course, would be the filing of an official health-hazard report—in which case the supplies would be justified and the beef operation Jack had worked so hard to build would be in grave jeopardy.
She hoped to God it was the former. But Marty’s tenacity regarding the primary specimen sent a chill of foreboding up her spine.
When she turned around, she jumped, sucking in air so hard she nearly choked.
Jack stood three paces behind her, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. She slapped a palm to her chest where her heart was doing a fine imitation of a wild stallion’s gallop.
“You ought to have the decency to make a little noise. You scared the daylights out of me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” He held out a mug. “Beau said you’re supposed to drink this, then get your skinny bones inside and eat breakfast.”
“My bones aren’t skinny.” The aroma of coffee made her stomach growl. She took a sip and nearly moaned. Beau was an absolute master in the kitchen. “And I don’t believe he said that.”
“Exact words—except he didn’t say ‘bones.”’
Since his gaze dipped tellingly to her hips, she could easily fill in the word. “That part of me’s not skinny, either. And what’s with men insulting my backside, anyway? That’s twice now, and the sun’s hardly up.”
He took a sip of his own coffee, watching her over the rim of the cup. “Another man insulted you? Tell me who and I’ll go beat him up.”
“Oh, no. That’ll never do. Marty’s a nice guy.”
“How nice?”
Jack was clearly fishing. Although his tone was easy—pleasant, even—his eyes narrowed just enough to give him away. “Friend nice,” she said, meeting his gaze head-on. “Satisfied?”
“Not hardly.”
The words were barely above a whisper, yet they slammed into her like a butting goat, stealing her breath. He’d just put her on notice…very effectively.
“You want to go have some breakfast while you fill me in on that phone call? I heard enough of the conversation to know you don’t have an answer, but I’d like to hear the details.”
“I’m not really hungry.” Not for food. And she didn’t want to chance everyone in the household glimpsing the arousal she was sure blazed across her face like neon at an exotic dance club.
“Beau figured you’d say that, so he sent me with this.” Jack leaned down and picked up a bag he’d set on the bench, the clear, sealed plastic fogged with steam.
Sunny’s stomach growled. “Are those fresh muffins?”
“Yes. But I have to warn you. Beau’s been experimenting again, and he claims these are loaded with healthy energy stuff.”
She accepted the muffin he held out. “Did you try one?”
“Yeah. They’re pretty good.”
Obviously, since he’d brought one for himself, as well. She bit into the warm muffin. “Oh, they’re fabulous. Banana? What else is in this?”
“I have no idea. That’s why I felt it’d be gentlemanly to offer a disclaimer—in case he slipped an aphrodisiac in there and you end up with extra energy and insist on having your way with me.”
She stared at him, her mouth open, the muffin suspended in her hand. He was reaching into the plastic bag, as though getting a rise out of her hadn’t even occurred to him.
That was the second blatantly suggestive remark he’d made this morning.
“Didn’t you say you’d already had one of these?” she asked.
“Right out of the oven.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t eat another one.”
He laughed deeply and unrestrainedly, startling the horses. They all came to hang their heads over the stall doors to see what the commotion was about.
And Jack’s laughter definitely caused a commotion with Sunny. He didn’t laugh nearly often enough. To hear him let go, if only for a moment, made her heart soften.
“You can go ahead and eat that, sugar bear. Cora’s the one who badgered Beau into learning about herbs and their uses. She wouldn’t let him fool around with aphrodisiacs.”
“Perhaps, but Cora’s not yet here this morning, so he’s got no one to monitor what he tosses into the batter. And don’t be so sure of Cora’s innocence. The way those two spark off each other, it’s a wonder you haven’t caught them naked on the kitchen table.”
His brows shot up. Then a slow grin spread over his face. “You think my housekeeper and number-one cowboy are having sex?”
“I think your number-one cowboy has unofficially traded in his Stetson for a chef’s hat. And I don’t think they’re having sex. Yet.”
“You’re probably right. Too much tension. Kind of like with us.”
What in the world had gotten into him this morning? And why the heck wasn’t she jumping at the opportunity? She’d nearly driven herself crazy imagining them making love for the remainder of the time she was here.
As a young man, Jack had been ultramasculine, hot-tempered and broody, the kind of guy who exuded the promise of sexual satisfaction with merely the intensity of his blue-eyed stare. One look and the word that came to mind was danger. A challenge to any girl with enough spunk to tame him.
Now that Jack was a mature man, the rough edges had rounded—due in part, she suspected, to father-hood and success. He didn’t have that mad-at-the-world chip on his shoulder that caused closed-minded gossips to speculate on how many lethal weapons he likely carried.
But he wore unquestionable confidence like the tailored fit of a fine shirt. He was a true leader, a larger-than-life presence whom others looked to for advice and guidance, even people who’d snubbed him years ago. He’d earned their respect and returned it without holding a grudge.
He was still ultramasculine, still radiated enough pheromones to sweep a woman off her feet and have her thanking him in advance because she’d be too sated to remember afterward.
And he was still thrillingly dangerous. Which suddenly, despite her bold fantasies about vacation sex, made Sunny a nervous wreck.
She realized she was staring at him like a dumb-founded maiden who’d never been flirted with before. Deliberately, she raised the muffin and took a bite.
Amusement flared in his eyes and he gave her hair a playful tug. “Come sit over here and tell me what Marty had to say.”
She followed him to the bench she’d been sitting on earlier. “Are you sure there’ll be enough room for the two of us and that overco
nfident ego of yours, as well?”
He snagged her hand and tugged. She nearly landed in his lap. That was what she got for trying to best him.
She realized that their banter had its roots in worry, was a distraction to mask their fears of ‘what if.’
“So far, your herd’s healthy.”
“And?”
“And Marty doesn’t know what killed your cow.”
He swore, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, then dropped his forehead into his palms. “Damn it. I’m losing money by the day. I should have loaded and shipped two railcars of beef by now. I’ve got buyers breathing down my neck, and I sure as hell can’t tell them I’ve got dead livestock that may or may not have contaminated my herd.”
Laying her hand against his back was instinctive. Sunny shared his frustration. “I know, Jack.”
His head whipped around, his gaze spearing hers. “Do you? I don’t see your bank account on the line here. You’re the one holding the hatchet.”
Her temper ignited, even as the unfair accusation tore at her insides like a razor. She shot up off the bench and faced him with fire in her eyes.
“You just hold on a damn minute. I risked my job and my license under false pretenses to keep this quiet, to make your life easier, and you don’t show one ounce of appreciation. You could have had state and federal agencies crawling all over this place, spotlighting the whole town on the nightly news. Do you think it’s easy for one person, me—” she thumbed her chest “—to handle a herd this size?”
She was so furious she could hardly see straight. “I’m supposed to be on a damn vacation.” She marched out the barn door, then turned around and marched back in.
Lifting her chin, daring him to make a peep, she snapped, “I’m going to town.” She would drag Donetta out of bed if she had to. She was in the mood for some serious male bashing. “I have my cell phone with me. If you can’t recollect the number, call my mother.”