Sometimes the burden overwhelmed him. He worried about failing every day. Jake and Izzy meant the world to him. It felt good to have someone to lean on now and again.
“Mind if I sit?” Jake asked.
Cody took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and jerked his head to the seat beside him.
Jake sat and peered at the stars. “Saw you standin’ in the back, son. How come you left?”
“Hell, I never should’ve come. I’m no good with people. I would’ve ruined Cassie’s party.”
“Why does the nigglin’ in my head tell me your leavin’ wasn’t because of Cassie?” Jake rubbed his whiskered jaw.
“Probably because you think you know everything,” Cody said without malice.
Reaching in his shirt pocket, Jake offered him a cigar. The corner of Cody’s lip turned up, and he accepted with a nod. Several minutes of silence slipped by, the peaceful kind that could only be shared with a comfortable friend.
Jake broke the silence. “I might not know everything, but I know you, and there’s a filly over there that’s got you all tied up in knots.”
Cody sat forward in a fit of coughing, and Jake cackled while he pounded him on the back. “You get right to the point there, old timer,” Cody answered, trying to catch his breath.
“Who you callin’ ‘old timer’? I got eyes, boy. The way you look at her is hot enough to set this place on fire.”
Cody felt his face flame as his foreman grinned wide. “Hell, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. She gets under my skin, like an itch that needs to be scratched.” Cody gave him a pointed look.
“Oh, to be young again.” Jake leaned back and sighed, taking another puff on his cigar. “Why, I remember when I first realized I’d fallen in love with my Izzy.”
Cody whipped his head to the side and stared hard at him. “I’m not in love with Miss Hammond.”
The older man stared off into the night, lost in memories. “Why, I couldn’t eat, sleep, or even work.”
Cody’s tightened his jaw. That was exactly how he’d felt lately. He found it hard to breathe. But this was different. All he had to do was get her in bed, and it would be over.
“Heck, I even dreamed about her. It seemed whatever I did, wherever I went, I couldn’t get that woman off my mind. Then one day it was like a brick up and fell right on my head, and it all became clear. I was in love.”
Cody ground out his cigar. When he’d married his wife, he thought he knew all about love, but he’d missed the mark with her. He’d cared about her, but looking back, he had never really loved her. He’d loved the idea of having a wife, someone to share his dream with, to come home to and have children with. Man, he felt sick. He still wanted those things, but not with someone like Monica. No way.
“Yep. Those were the days.” Jake turned to look at him. “You all right, son? You look a mite green.”
“Must be the cigar,” Cody replied, surging to his feet. He couldn’t quite look his old friend in the eye. He didn’t believe he could be falling in love. The old fool was just reminiscing about youth. Older people did that sometimes, and what Cody felt for Monica was a good old-fashioned case of desire. Desire didn’t have to lead to love and marriage. He’d learned that the hard way.
“Think I’ll head on up to the house and get some sleep.” He started walking, picking up the pace when Monica and Cassie rounded the corner.
“Cigar, my foot,” Jake hollered from behind him, cackling.
Cody didn’t stop until he reached the homestead and paused with his hand on the door. He glanced over his shoulder. Monica and Cassie stood talking at the fork in the road. They said goodbye, and Cassie headed his way.
Just before Monica turned toward her cabin, she looked up. Her eyes met his, and the world seemed to stop. She smiled, but he could do nothing. He told himself it was the stupid cigar that made his belly flop, not the woman standing in front of him looking at him with heat blazing from her eyes.
But just then her shoulders drooped, and she took the path to her cabin. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he held and watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore. He still stared when Cassie reached his side.
“Cody? You okay?” She laid her hand on his forearm.
He flinched, cursed, and then ruffled her hair. “Never better, shrimp.”
“You’re all decked out. What’s the occasion?” she teased. Cody couldn’t stop from glancing toward Monica’s cabin, and Cassie’s smile became brilliant. She went on, “Or should I say who is the occasion?”
“None of your business, Miss Nosy.”
“Have it your way,” she called as she strolled inside, her shoulder-length, pale-blond hair bouncing, “but according to Miss Ladylove, you’re a great big teddy bear who needs a hug. Watch out, big brother. She just might give you one.”
A teddy bear?
Cassie headed into the house, and Cody thought about Monica. The crazy woman had begun to thaw the ice from his heart no matter how hard he tried to stop it. He took a step toward her cabin. Now, what, if anything, should he do about it?
CHAPTER NINE
Monday morning, Monica knelt in Buggy’s stall, caressing her hand down his bony spine, continuing to the tip of his skinny tail while she fed him his bottle. His hide looked less patchy since she’d been brushing him, but he was still ugly. She smiled when he shuddered with delight. She’d grown attached to the little calf in such a short time.
“M-Ma’am?” Bobby’s voice cracked, and he stared at the wooden beams above her head. He snatched his hat off his curly red head and held it with both hands in front of him as if it were a shield. “You didn’t have to feed him. I can take over all the chores, seeing as how I’m back, and all.”
She smiled and stood as she patted his forearm. “If you wouldn’t mind, I really enjoy taking care of Buggy.”
He glanced down at her, then his gaze snapped back up and his face flamed the same shade as his hair. “O-Okay, ma’am. Sure thing. You go right on ahead and take care of, er, B-Buggy, if that’s what you want, and all.” He crammed his hat back on his head. “I best be gettin’ to work. Just holler if you need anything a’tall.”
He took two steps, halted, still not looking at her. “Cookie said your vittles are gettin’ cold. You’d best get on in there before they taste like sh ... uh, before they taste bad is all.” He turned around as quick as his gangly body would allow and tripped over his own boots in his haste to escape.
Monica bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched him stumble out of the barn. After she brushed Buggy’s fur, she tucked him back into his stall--if you could call it a stall. She’d bought him a blanket to keep that scruffy hide warm and added some toys, along with a fancy plastic water bucket sporting his name in bold letters on the side.
Ridiculous, yes. And she was bound to hear how foolish she was from one big burly cowboy, but she didn’t care. She’d never had a pet of her own. The calf wasn’t technically hers, but while she was here, she could pretend. It made her happy. Besides, she’d spent her own money, so what could Cody say? She bent over and kissed the top of the calf’s head before heading to the cookshack for breakfast.
Festus had his head poked in the back of the chuckwagon, putting his supplies away, then he straightened as she walked up behind him. He snagged his long white beard on a nail and mumbled under his breath about flighty females always being late, never knowing the time of day.
“One flighty female reporting for duty,” she said from behind him.
He hopped and then waddled around looking all blustery. His eyes bugged as he sputtered, “Jumpin’ Jeremiah, girly. What happened to yer clothes?”
“What do you mean?” She played dumb as she glanced at her seduction outfit. Granted, work wasn’t the place to start seducing Cody, but since he was avoiding her, she had no choice, and nothing to lose. Her ad campaign pretty much stunk at this point, so she’d taken the advice Nat gave her last night. “Jeans and a western shirt are perfectl
y suitable for barn duty or working out on the range.”
Festus whipped off his apron and wrapped it around her like a towel. “It’s indecent, I tell ya. Why, those dungarees are tighter than my drawers.” His face flushed crimson. “And that shirt. Why’d ya tie it? It has buttons ya know.” His eyes popped. “Heck, it ain’t even buttoned,” he stammered as he reached to refasten it but then yanked his hands back.
Okay, so if she bent over, she’d probably split the seat of her pants, but Cody couldn’t say they weren’t durable. And she hadn’t worn any layers. She’d purposely displayed a generous amount of rounded flesh in the opening of her shirt. But darnit, she was determined to get a reaction out of him today.
And he wouldn’t be laughing.
“I’m fine, Cookie.” She patted his shoulder.
“Ya won’t be fine wearin’ that getup. Didn’t yer ma ever tell ya the trouble a gal could get into, dressed thataway? Don’t ya know there’s randy cowboys on this here ranch? A man could find it mighty hard to control, uh, certain urges when he looks at ya dressed that way, and all.”
“Ha. Not all cowboys are randy. I know of one big one who has no trouble whatsoever controlling his urges when I’m around,” she muttered.
Festus pulled his shaggy white eyebrows together and stroked his beard as a slow smile spread across his wrinkled face. “Aha, I knew it,” he cackled, whisking her in his arms and doing a little jig around the room.
Monica couldn’t help laughing. She was touched he’d come to approve of her. He must, because she knew how much Cody meant to him. She cleared her throat. “What’s for breakfast?”
He disappeared, returning with a tray of eggs Benedict, whole-wheat toast with jam, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and a single yellow rose.
“Thanks, Santa.” She smiled and kissed his cheek.
He waved his hands and blustered, “It ain’t nothin’ but a simple breakfast, and a cold one at that.”
She knew better. “Well, thank you, anyway,” she said, winking as she sashayed over to the barn.
“Hey, girl-ly,” he called out in a cheery, sing-song voice.
“Yes?” She looked over her shoulder with raised brows.
“Knock ‘em dead. I reckon one big cowboy is bound to take notice of ya today. If’n he don’t, then he needs glasses.”
Aw, what a sweetie. “Thanks, Cookie.” She had needed that boost of confidence. Squaring her shoulders, she marched toward the barn with her head held high. Festus was right. If Cody didn’t want her, then it was his loss.
“Have mercy on that boy,” the cook mumbled behind her.
She’d have mercy, all right. As soon as Cody got down on his knees and begged her for it.
* * *
Cody walked out of his office saying, “Okay, saddle up, boys, let’s move on ....” He came to a stop and forgot the rest of his sentence. How, in all that was holy, did Monica manage to get those britches on? He stopped breathing, and his heart began to pound, so he pulled the collar of his shirt away from his skin. “Damn, it’s hot in here.”
“Is there a problem, Mr. Rafferty?” she said in a sassy I-know-exactly-what-I’m-doing-to-you voice and fluttered her lashes at him.
His gaze ran over her. Christ. He couldn’t exactly say her clothes weren’t fit for a ranch, since he also wore jeans and a western work shirt. But he sure as hell could say hers weren’t quite appropriate. Yesterday’s jeans had been fine, but today’s were downright sinful. And that shirt. It sure as hell wasn’t fastened the right way.
Cody had a suspicious feeling she was trying to seduce him, but during business hours? Not a good idea. For the time being, he’d divert her attention. “No problem at all,” he answered, “Let’s move it on out, boys.”
A short time later, watching over the breeding herd with her on the sidelines wearing those damn painted-on jeans, he grew flustered and distracted. Diverting her attention had worked like a charm on her. She looked absorbed in the work going on around her. The problem was it hadn’t done a thing to divert his attention. He wanted to pull her in his arms and make wild, passionate love to her.
Right here. Right now.
She’d distracted his men as well. Hank, Rusty and, hell, even Jake kept stealing glances at her, almost falling off their horses. They were normal healthy males, but Christ, Cody wanted to hit something.
Monica slipped off the fence and then spun around to climb back up. Watching those sweet round cheeks wiggle, clearly outlined by that excuse for a pair of jeans, made him salivate like a damn dog.
Jesus, was that a red thong peeking out? Looked more like dental floss, if you asked him. If he wasn’t careful, she would unseat him yet. He climbed down off Babe and tightened the cinch on his saddle, when all of the sudden the same ornery Black Angus bull who’d charged Monica a while back broke away and charged Cody. His reflexes took over, and he stepped out of the way. The bull thundered by in a flurry of pounding hooves, nostrils flaring as he snorted.
Dammit, that was careless. They always kept the bulls separate from the cows and supervised the breeding, but Monica had everyone so damned distracted, no one was paying that close attention.
Monica screamed his name and bolted off the fence. What did she think she could do, rescue him? She ran hell-bent in his direction as fast as those ridiculous purple boots could carry her.
Good God almighty, she did think she could rescue him. He barely had time to swing back onto Babe. Urging him into motion, he reached her just in time, sweeping her up before she got herself gored or trampled for sure this time. He let out a sharp whistle and jerked his head toward the angry bull, sending his men to round up the beast.
Cody took several deep breaths as he rode to safety and set Monica on the other side of the fence. Crazy woman had scared the tar right out of him once again. With his fingers still spanning her narrow waist, he glimpsed her rounded flesh through all the open buttons on her shirt. Naked flesh. Holy Christ, she hadn’t worn a goddamn bra. He yanked his hands away. “Lord almighty, woman. You trying to kill me?”
“Fine. I won’t waste my time caring whether you’re hurt or not, you ungrateful oaf.” She marched away and refused to speak to him, clearly misunderstanding what he’d meant.
“Women.” He never had been any good at knowing what to say or do around them. Every time he tried, he said or did something to make her angry. Hell, if they ever did sleep together, they’d probably argue about who got to be on top.
Babe pranced to the side.
“What the?” Cody flipped backward off his horse and landed hard on his backside. Squish. “Oh, hell. Is that?”
“Yep, it sure as shit is.” Hank chuckled.
“Too bad we don’t ranch sheep. At least their droppings are small and dry.” Jake snickered.
“Funny.” Cody rolled to his feet and stepped forward, right into another pile of crap. “What the hell am I, a homing device for manure?” He wiped the back of his Wranglers with his glove and stomped his boot. He couldn’t blame his men for gawking. Rodeo Champion Bronc Buster, Cody Rafferty, had fallen off his “tame” horse for the first time in, well, ever. His new title may as well be Pasture Champion of Shit Magnets.
He was never gonna hear the end of this one.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Cody halted in the doorway of the barn at the end of the workday and stared. Jealousy rocketed through him, and he fisted his hands.
He watched Monica listen to Rusty’s instructions on how to ride the mechanical bull they used at the weekly barbecue. Rusty tied a knot in the rope he’d wrapped around a bale of hay and handed her the end. “Okay, Mo. You’re up.”
“All right, here goes.” She swung her leg over the bale and eased herself down, engrossed in the task. She wrapped the rope around her right hand and held her left one high in the air, moving in a rotating motion.
Rusty placed his hands low on her hips to guide her. “Good job.” He slid his palm over her leg to her knee and tugged it down a
little.
“Like this?” She dropped her other knee.
“Yep.” He nodded, giving her a quick grin of encouragement, then slid his hand down to her ankle and turned her foot out.
“I think I’ve got it.” She twisted her other ankle out.
“Looks good, Mo.” His voice sang with pride, and he added, much to her apparent delight, “You’re a natural.”
“Do you really think--”
“Rusty,” Cody barked. “You mind finishing up in here? Miss Hammond will have to wait. I’ve got some things I need to do up at the homestead that can’t.” He’d put more irritation in his voice than he’d intended, but dammit, he didn’t like seeing Rusty’s palms sliding over her legs. And those hands had no business holding her hips so possessively and moving in that ... in that ... well, hell, it wasn’t gonna happen.
Rusty gave him a knowing look. “Sure thing, boss.” He turned to her. “Keep practicing. I’ll be back soon.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
He touched the tip of his hat. “My pleasure, ma’am.” He disappeared inside the barn.
Cody turned toward her, and their eyes met for a tense moment. She broke the contact and resumed the position of riding a bull, obviously still angry about his earlier tirade. He stood there, not knowing quite what to say.
She dropped her arm and glanced back over her shoulder. “Is there something you want from me?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Really? I wouldn’t know. All you ever do is yell at me or stare at me. What do you want?”
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