When Things Got Hot in Texas

by Lori Wilde

  Heat flared to his face.

  She laughed. “Now, I’ve embarrassed you.”

  He grinned. “Maybe a little.”

  “So what’s the favor?”

  His responding sigh was a long, loud exhale. “Joe challenged me to learn to ride a horse while he learns to walk on his new legs, with both of us showing our progress at the end of the summer.”

  Snapping her fingers, she said, “No problem. Heck, I can have you roping cattle by then.”

  He grimaced. “I’ll be happy with just staying on the horse.”

  “Been bucked off?”

  “Couple of times. You?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Been there, done that. That’ll leave some sour memories, not to mention a sore butt.”

  “I—” He pointed into the stall. “We have action.”

  Marti was so involved just looking at the sharp angles and strong chin of this incredible man that she’d completely lost focus on why they were sitting in a barn in the middle of the night. She swiveled her head toward Princess in time to see a large gush of fluid pouring forth.

  “There goes the bag,” she said, her hands twitching nervously. “It’s so hard to just sit here and let her do the work. I want to help.” She looked at Eli. “Ever seen a horse delivery?”

  “Nope. Tons of human babies but no horses.”

  “Well, our job is to do nothing, unless she gets into distress. I’ve attended a number of foalings, and I always want to do something.”

  He smiled. “Hard to just sit. You seem like the type of woman who likes to take charge, and likely, you get it right most of the time.”

  Her heart exploded in her chest with pride. No doubt she was preening like a peacock. She knocked shoulders with him again. “You say the nicest things.”

  “How long?” he said, tilting his head toward the laboring horse.

  “Hard to say. An hour, maybe longer, maybe shorter.”

  For the next forty-five minutes, they just sat, watched, and whispered encouraging words to Princess. Poor Princess. She grunted and pushed. Her legs pushed straight out as she dealt with the contractions. A foot and then a second foot appeared twenty minutes into the process. A couple of minutes later, a light colored head came through.

  “Will the foal be white too?” Eli asked.

  “Princess isn’t really white. She’s a light grey. The sire is also grey, albeit a little darker than Princess. I expect the foal will be a grey.”

  “Do you know if it’s male or female?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Don’t care. I just want healthy.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  Once the shoulders passed, Princess took a break from pushing, and rested.

  “Should we help?” Eli asked. “I mean, usually a human baby pops out at this point.”

  “Nervous?” she asked with a grin. “Nope. This is totally normal. Mom and baby are resting. They should get going again.”

  As she’d predicted, ten minutes later, Princess began pushing again, and a foal dropped into the straw. Princess went immediately to work cleaning the baby.

  “What about the cord?” Eli asked.

  “We do nothing unless we absolutely have too. The cord should slow or stop passing blood to the foal in a few minutes, and then mom with take care of things.”

  “How can you be so calm? Now, I’m itching to do something.”

  She laughed. “Just like a man—especially a doctor. Sit on your hands. No, wait. I’ve got a better idea.” She took both his hands. “I’ll hold them. Will that work?”

  He squeezed her fingers, but the caress squeezed her heart at the same time. “That’ll work great.”

  She had no idea who she was tonight. She was never this chatty with a guy, at least not until they’d been on a few dates. But Eli felt right. She hated that her hands were work-roughened. He could notice, could be put off by that. Crap. Now that she thought about it, his hands were softer and less callused than hers.

  He probably dated townies, girls with soft hands and long flowing hair. Sure she had long, auburn hair, but most of the time it was slicked back out of the way. Even that dress she wore tonight gave the wrong impression of who she really was. Oh, she’d loved the sparkle in his eyes when he first saw her. The smile that’d lit up his face when she twirled for him. And then…then when he’d stroked his fingers along the flesh of her back, she’d almost melted. Her knees sure had.

  However, tonight’s dress wasn’t her. Neither were the three-inch heels. She was a jeans, shirt, and boots kind of gal, all of it usually dirty at the end of the day.

  Eli stroked his thumb back and forth across her knuckles. Holy Hannah. She almost swayed with lust. The way he kissed and touched her set off bombs that shot electrical voltage from her brain to her toes, with lots of energy rushing directly to every female cell. She wasn’t looking for anything, or anyone, long-term, although if she were, she might not mind a daily dose of how he made her tingle.

  Too bad he was only here for a short time.

  But on second thought, maybe it wasn’t too bad that he was a short timer. Hadn’t she been saying she wasn’t looking for long term? A couple of months of serious tingles would be fun. Possibly a little more than tingles for a couple of months would be fun, too.

  While she’d been daydreaming, or would that be early-in-the-morning dreaming, Princess and her new baby had found their footing and stood. A foal’s wobbly legs never failed to charm her, and tonight was no different.

  “Want to meet her?” she asked. Now that the foal was here, she could see the ranch had another female on their hands.

  “I do.” His voice held a tinge of surprise, as though he couldn’t believe he wanted to.

  Regretfully, she dropped one of his hands, and they eased toward the pair. The foal was grey, as she’d expected. She had a darker patch of grey down her nose. Eli inched his hand toward the foal. His first stroke was slow, only lightly touching the newborn.

  He looked at Marti with a broad smile. “Incredible.”

  “I know.”

  “Have you picked out a name for this little one?”

  “I haven’t,” Marti said. “Got a suggestion?”

  “Duchess.”

  “Oh. I like that. She’ll be Duchess of Boone.”

  The smile she’d thought was wide stretched farther, and his eyes lit up. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. It’ll make me always remember tonight.” Like she could ever forget.

  He put an arm around her and hugged. “Thank you. I’m touched.”

  She startled and snapped her fingers. “Shoot. I forgot about Callie.” When he frowned, she added, “The barn cat. She was having kittens, and I totally forgot.”

  He looked around. “Where is she?”

  “Office, if she follows her normal pattern.” They walked out of the stall toward the open office door. “This is her third, and last, set. She’s got an appointment with Dr. Georgie Grayson. Our veterinarian,” she explained when he looked confused.

  “I didn’t see her when I changed clothes earlier.”

  “Ah, but did you climb under the desk?”

  He chuckled. “Can’t say that I did.”

  She lifted the chair away from the desk and climbed under. “Hey there, momma.” She pulled a wooden box lined with soft towels from under the desk. Inside, Callie rested with six kittens nursing away. “Good job, Callie.” She stoked the cat. “Looks like some fine mousers you’ve got there.”

  “Do all barns have cats?”

  Chuckling, Marti said, “I don’t know. We always have. They’re invaluable for keeping the pests under control.”

  “You’ll keep all these kittens?”

  “Doubtful. Most will go to homes where their main job is loving humans. We’ll probably keep a couple. But I’ve got a month or so to decide on that.” She lightly stroked a finger along one the kittens. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “You can tell boys from girls
this early?”

  She laughed. “Nope. I’m right about fifty percent of the time.”

  Callie’s birthing box had been layered with towels and blankets. Marti removed the bloodiest one from the birth, leaving Callie and her kittens resting on a clean towel.

  With both births over, the evening’s adrenaline surge sagged. A weariness draped over her like a wet blanket, but she wasn’t ready to leave Princess and Duchess. The more she thought about the name Duchess, the more she really loved it. So perfect.

  “I’m having an energy slump,” she confessed.

  “You ready to go?”

  “Oh, no. I want to watch Princess and Duchess for a while, make sure everything is okay. But you don’t have to stay. Really.”

  “You trying to get rid of me?” he asked with a wink.

  “Nope. Just giving you permission to head out. I’m used to early mornings or late nights.”

  “Me, too.” He put an arm around her. “Let’s find our bales and watch for a while. Sound good?”

  They settled back on the hay, his arm snuggly about her shoulders. She leaned against him. It’d been a long time since she’d done that, rested against a man’s chest. His warmth heated the side of her head. A strong, slow heartbeat lulled her eyes closed. Just for a moment, she told herself.

  “How long she been asleep?” She recognized Grisham’s voice.

  “About forty-five minutes, give or take,” Eli said. “It was a long night.”

  “She’s awake,” Marti said, struggling to separate herself from Eli’s comfortable chest. He shook his arm, and she chuckled. “Dead?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after five,” Grisham said. He leaned on the open stall door’s frame. “She’s a beauty.”

  Marti smiled and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I know.”

  “Thought of a name?”

  “Duchess,” she said. “Duchess of Boone.”

  “We didn’t get a chance to meet last night,” Eli said. “Eli Boone.”

  The older man held out his hand. “James Grisham.”

  “Sorry. I should have done that.” She yawned.

  Eli stood. “I’d better get going.”

  “How about some coffee? Breakfast maybe?”

  He shook his head. “Got a meeting at the hospital later today. I need to go home and change.”

  “Your tux is still pretty damp,” Mari said, fingering the sleeve of the jacket.

  Eli pulled his pants, jacket and shirt down from where they’d been hanging and rolled them into a ball. “No problem. I’ll let my cleaners deal with them.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Eli said to Grisham, who nodded.

  Marti took his hand, and they walked to his SUV. The rain had stopped, but there were running streams and mud everywhere.

  Eli tossed his bundle into the back seat and slammed the door.“Have to say that this was an interesting date,” Eli said.

  “Yeah, I don’t usually provide a live birth as entertainment.”

  He pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you.” He kissed her, his lips full and warm on hers. “I had a wonderful time.”

  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she snuggled against him. “I did, too.”

  She pressed her mouth to his, sliding her tongue through his parted lips. His tongue stroked hers, and she moaned. He glided his hands down her back until he cupped her bottom. Then, he pulled her against the thick bulge behind his zipper.

  She broke the kiss with a long sigh. “I better let you go.”

  “I know,” he said. “Tonight, or maybe I should say last night, was great.”

  She stepped back and tilted her head. “Where did you learn to dance?”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “Dancing. You were as smooth as glass. How’d you learn to dance like that?”

  He chuckled. “My mother insisted. I had to go to all these country club functions growing up, so she made me take dance lessons.”

  “Well, they paid off. Maybe we can hit Leo’s Bar one night for dancing.”

  “Maybe we can.” He checked his watch, the first time she’d noticed he was wearing one.

  She didn’t know the brand, but even she could recognize an expensive piece of jewelry.

  “I hate to do this, but I’ve got go.”

  She nodded and backed out of reach. “Me, too. Animals to feed. New babies to play with.”

  “Thanks, again. I’ll call you…about the riding thing.”

  “Sure.” Her heart sank a little. He’d call about the favor he wanted, but not about another date. She got the message. “See you later.”

  She turned and headed back toward the barn, refusing to let her head turn back toward him. She could be as cool as any guy when it came to being blown off. He’d obviously seen through the fancy dress and shoes. Her callused hands gave her away. He was a Harvard-trained physician. She was a Texas cowgirl. That combo was not destiny.

  Chapter 7

  The week started with a downed fence that ate up Monday. A group of stubborn moms and calves gave her a run for her money, not to mention a splitting headache on Tuesday. By Wednesday, she was ready to call it done. The cattle wouldn’t behave. The fences wouldn’t stay where they were supposed to. A bull decided to have a day with the ladies by busting through from his field to theirs.

  To put a cherry on her crappy-week-sundae, Eli didn’t call. Maybe she’d misjudged the evening. She’d have bet money she wasn’t the only one feeling something during those kisses. She wasn’t that out of practice, was she?

  If she realistically looked at the situation, it was obvious they were oil and water as a couple. Still, it would have been nice to think he’d been slayed by her sexiness.

  She dumped a large horse turd into a bucket. Yeah, that pretty much described her life.

  On Thursday, a large truck turned onto the Flying Pig drive and stopped near the barn. Out in the pasture checking on the new calves, Marti noticed the delivery truck but didn’t head back. Grisham was there and could handle whatever the situation entailed.

  She’d just swung down off Ransom when her phone beeped with a text message.

  Grisham: Can you head back? You need to deal with this delivery.

  Marti groaned with a sigh. She didn’t have time for more crap today. She had to tag those new calves. Still, her foreman rarely, if ever, needed help with anything.

  Marti: Heading back. Be there in ten.

  She finished putting an ear tag on a calf, all the while staring down a pissed-off mom. “There,” she said to the cow. “Done. He’s all yours.” She pushed the baby bull toward his momma, who led him away, stopping a couple of times to give death stares. Marti couldn’t suppress her chuckle.

  Ransom had her back at the barn in under ten minutes. A grinning Grisham stood with a young man in a trucking shirt.

  “Hi, I’m Marti Jenkins,” she said, pulling off her glove and extending her hand. “How can I help you?”

  “I have a delivery for Princess Diana and the Duchess of Boone. And another for Callie. Where do you want ’em?”

  Marti wrinkled her brow in confusion. “Excuse me?”

  “He has a delivery for—” Grisham started.

  “I heard what he said. I’m just confused.”

  The guy shrugged. “Maybe this will explain it.” He handed her a long envelope.

  Marti ripped it open and read.

  Dear Princess Diana,

  Congratulations on the Duchess’s birth. She’s a beauty for sure. Share your treats with dad.

  Eli Boone.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered. “Well, show me whatcha got,” she said to the delivery guy.

  He opened the back of the truck and, with Grisham’s help, unloaded two wooden crates. Once that was done, he nodded, climbed in his truck, and left.

  “
Get a hammer or something and let’s pry these open.”

  “Got one while I was waitin’,” he said. He pulled a couple of nails from the lid and lifted the wooden top. “Goodness,” he said. Grisham was grinning like he’d just won a lottery.

  Marti shook her head with a chuckle. Inside was carrots, apples, pumpkin, bananas, grapes and a tin of horse peppermints. “What’s in the other one?”

  A letter lay inside.

  Good morning, Callie. Hope all your kittens are nursing well. Enjoy the treats. Eli Boone

  In this crate was cat chow and kitten chow, for when the kittens were ready for food other than Callie’s milk, and a number of ropes and other climbing toys, sure to keep everyone in the feline family happy.

  “I can’t believe he did this.” She stared at the crates, her mind running a million thoughts at one time. She’d kind of written him off, decided he’d come to the same conclusion as she about the combination of oil and water. This was…well, so unbelievably sweet.

  “The man’s smitten,” Grisham said.

  “No, he’s not. He’s just…thoughtful.”

  Thoughtful. Yes, that’s what he was. His mother had obviously taught him manners.

  “Say what you will, but no man is this thoughtful unless he’s smitten.”

  She smiled, Grisham’s words meaning more than he knew. “Nah,” she said. “He’s just bein’ a nice guy.”

  Grisham snorted but, to her relief, changed the subject. “You get all the calves tagged?”

  “Nope, but I had an idea. Let’s do the tagging when we do the vaccinations. No reason not to, right?”

  “Well, we’ve always tagged before that.”

  “But do we have to? I mean, Pedro and I spent all morning chasing calves and pissing off mommas. The mommas know which calf is hers.”

  Grisham shrugged. “Okay. We’ll try it your way this year. Your daddy would have a stroke.”

  Marti laughed. “Let’s not mention this to him when he calls, okay? Nothing gained if we don’t try new stuff. Be sure that Princess gets some treats, but make sure to spread it out among all the horses. Heavens knows Princess is spoiled enough.”

  He nodded. “If that isn’t the truth. The rest of the horses’ll enjoy it.”

  She walked away wearing what she knew was an overly broad grin. Her parents had left her in charge, but she knew Grisham still had questions about her decision. He felt that, with his years of experience, he should be making decisions about things like tagging the calves. No matter that this was a small victory, she couldn’t help but be pleased.