Six of them? Where did they all sleep? As she envisioned the size of the house, she closed her eyes. I'll die of exhaustion within three days.
She reopened her eyes. “You're talking about the OUI, aren't you?"
Jason nodded.
"I went through rehab and spent a lot of hours making up for it, Uncle Jason. Believe me when I say I've learned my lesson."
"Yes, your daddy mentioned that, but what I want to ensure is that you don't make the same mistake again.” He continued before she could open her mouth to protest, “I'm aware of the circumstances surrounding your last arrest. I commend you on the fact you wanted to prevent your fiancé from driving, but you should have thought of your mental state as well. A cab would have been a better alternative."
Alex frowned. He was right, but what irritated her was that rehab had already pounded this point into her skull for twelve long weeks. The last thing she wanted was another lecture on her mistake.
"Am I going to be attending some sort of AA meeting or something?"
Jason chuckled as they came into view of a large gate with the ranch's emblem molded into the center of the iron doors. “As good as their intentions are AA has a rather high failure rate. No, I handle things a bit differently around here."
Alex knitted her eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean? Do you hold retreats for alcoholics?"
A broad grin spread over her uncle's face as he stopped the truck and stepped out into the dry heat. After punching in an access code, he climbed back into the driver's seat.
"Not exactly. Everyone you're going to meet today has a past they would just as soon forget. Just as you would like to forget your DUIs, these men want to let go of the things they've done."
With a sharp breath, he said, “I will only ask you this once. Do not pass judgment on my boys. Listen to them and you just may learn something about yourself. All right?"
She liked to consider herself an open-minded person, reasonable and the like, so she didn't see this as a problem.
She shrugged. “Sure."
As the truck rumbled up the dirt drive, she spotted several horses ranging in color from beige to coal black. She craned her neck to get a better look, noting the animals’ muscles gleaming in the late morning sun.
"Know anything about horses?"
Alex shook her head without taking her eyes off the animals. “No, but they're beautiful.” She pointed to a tan colored one with swollen sides. “Is one of them pregnant?"
"Yup. The one you're referring to is Bella. She's one of our smaller mares and we're all keeping an eye on her right now. She'll probably need a little help when it comes time to deliver the foal."
Alex turned to him with a perplexed expression.
"The stress of labor may be too much on her due to her size,” he replied to her unspoken question.
She made an “O” with her mouth and stole one more glance at the pregnant horse before twisting around to face front. Four buildings came into view and she pressed her lips together in thought. Somehow, I pictured a ranch looking different, she mused.
"Home sweet home.” Jason's words broke into her train of thought as he cut the engine.
Alex snapped out of her daze and put her fingers to the handle. Her eyes roamed the immediate area and she pointed to a structure directly across from the house.
"What's that?"
"The bunkhouse. That's where the boys sleep. You'll be staying in the house with me of course.” He climbed out. “Let's get your things taken inside and I'll introduce you to everyone."
Alex exited the truck and shut the door before walking around to the bed. The little hairs on her neck prickled and she peered to her left to see three workers lounging against a support beam of the bunkhouse's covered porch. She drew her shoulders back and gripped her carry-on bag before pulling it out of the truck.
You would think they had never seen a woman before. She returned their awestruck looks with a pointed glance. The young men glanced away and dispersed. Alex gave a satisfied nod before following her uncle to the porch.
She mounted the three steps of the house. “Is there a reason why those gentlemen were staring at me like that?"
Jason tossed a glance over his shoulder to the retreating figures and chuckled under his breath.
"Probably because they figured you were going to be a man."
She drew to an abrupt halt. “Excuse me? How can anyone mistake me for a man?"
Two-time Miss Maine Teen USA winner, she thought herself the epitome of femininity. She worked hard to keep her body in shape and spent countless hours perfecting her appearance.
Jason opened the front door and stepped inside. “Easy, if all they know about you is your name.” He set the three large suitcases down at the bottom of the stairs before reaching for her carry-on.
She absently handed over the bag and glanced around at the simple furnishings with disinterest. Vinyl, pull-down shades decorated the windows and a threadbare braided rug lay in the center of the wooden floor. The blue in the oval rug was faded and she shifted her gaze to the furniture. Two mismatched couches positioned in an L shape enclosed the living room, and pushed against the opposite wall sat a television set that looked to be as old as she was—if not older. If her uncle ran such a successful ranch, then in God's name why did his house look so tacky?
"They got that out of Alexandra?” she asked at last.
He grinned. “I bet you haven't gone by Alexandra in years. Now you tell me. What would you think if I said someone by the name of ‘Alex’ was coming?"
She supposed she could give him that. Her immediate reaction would be to assume the name was short for Alexander instead of the feminine version.
She drew in a deep breath and slapped her hands against her denim-clad thighs. “Well, you mentioned something about meeting your men. I suppose now is as good a time as any to do that.” Maybe if she met people close to her age, she wouldn't feel so trapped.
Jason held up a finger and stepped past her to the kitchen doorway. “Hold that thought, darlin'. I think Brett is in the kitchen fixing lunch.” He stood in the entryway with his back to her. “Got a moment to meet Alex?"
Great, this one will think I'm a guy too.
"Sure. Just give me a second to finish cutting this tomato.” The honey sweet twang edging this man's voice caught Alex off guard and to her surprise, she found herself smoothing down her hair while a shadow moved toward the doorway.
Jason gestured to Alex as a tall young man with gold-colored hair stepped into view. “Alex, I want you to meet Brett Hartman. Brett, this is my niece, Alex Kincaid."
Brett gaped at her, his steely gray eyes dancing around her face as if checking to see if this were some sort of joke.
"You're a girl."
Alex resisted the urge to groan. Okay, so tact wasn't a strong point in this man's nature.
She managed a nod. “My, you certainly are quick, aren't you?"
Evidently, her sharp wit sparked his pride because Brett blinked and shook his head. The surprise fled from his eyes and in its stead was a flat, even expression of disinterest.
"Aren't I though,” he returned and turned his attention to Jason. “I really need to get back to finishing lunch before the bacon burns.” Jason nodded his understanding and with that, Brett disappeared into the kitchen.
"I reckon I should have told them you were a female,” Jason mused. “Let's try this again with the other boys."
Must she? Meeting Brett had left quite a bit to be desired and if his reaction to her being a woman was any indication as to how the others would react, then she was going to be in for a long six months.
She stepped out into the bright sun, the stifling Texas heat washing over her like a blast from an open oven. She drew in a sharp breath from the shock and rubbed her cheek. She could almost feel the air baking her face and drying out her skin.
Note to self: Have Mindy send me my moisturizers. While her face felt dry, her legs were sticky with sweat
and her designer jeans clung to her. How could the workers stand to be in the sun while wearing pants all day? As it was, she was tempted to tell her uncle to wait on the introductions until after she had a chance to change her clothes.
"Charlie! Daniel! Matthew! Come here a moment, fellas. I want you to meet my niece, Alexandra.” He offered Alex a shrug. “Maybe this time it won't be so awkward."
She doubted it, but didn't comment on this as the three ranch hands she had seen earlier made their way across the grassy field to where she and Jason were standing. The shortest of the three, a dark haired man, tipped his hat in a cordial greeting.
"Hi. I'm Charlie. Nice to meet you, ma'am."
I like him, Alex thought with a coy smile. Cute and polite.
"Daniel,” the one in the middle muttered and added with a half-hearted laugh, “Never would have guessed Alex was short for Alexandra."
Something in the young man's green eyes made Alex swallow. She thought of her uncle's warning about each of the hands having a past they wanted to forget and she shifted uncomfortably. The disturbing glint remained and she was certain she didn't want to know what this young man was trying to forget.
"It's okay,” she replied. “I would have assumed the same thing.” Her eyes landed on the last of the three and her heart skipped a beat upon seeing a long jagged scar running the length of the man's thick, tanned arm.
"Matt,” he said, giving her a nod. “Pleasure to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you all,” she said and glanced at her uncle. “I thought you said there were five workers. I've only met four."
Charlie jerked his head in the direction of the horses. “That would be Steve. He went to go check on the horses about five minutes ago.” He elbowed Daniel in the ribs. “Soon as he finds out lunch is about done, he'll come running."
Jason shot him an amused look. “Be nice, Charlie or else I'll make you go first when we have Round Robin."
"What's Round Robin?"
Charlie folded his arms. “Every time someone new comes to the Bar K, we make formal introductions and explain what we've done in order to be sentenced here.” He glanced at Jason. “Have I about got it?"
Jason sighed. “In a nutshell. You make it sound like I'm running some sort of therapy retreat,” he drawled. “Yeah, I bet you do find it amusing, Matthew. Why don't you go find Steven while the rest of you wash up for lunch? Brett isn't going to be patient for long."
Alex followed her uncle to the house in a daze. The men were sentenced here? As in, they were prisoners and the ranch was a prison? Oh. My. God. Daddy sent me to prison!
"Alex?” Jason's voice broke into her horrified thoughts. “Are you okay, darlin'?"
Alex blinked repeatedly and licked her lips. “Okay” was the last thing she was feeling. Horrified, nauseous, appalled were all better terms.
She nodded weakly. “Yeah. Oh yeah. I'm fine. Am I going to have to give everyone my story as well? I mean, I'm not exactly proud of what I've done, you know."
Jason turned his head to look at her. “Nor are they,” he replied. “No one is innocent here. We've all done something that we're not proud of. It doesn't matter if you're the heiress to the Kincaid fortune or the son of a man you've never met. After tonight, you can keep your business to yourself, but for one evening you're going to share with everyone what you've done."
That wasn't fair. No one told her she would have to confess her mistakes to a group of strangers.
"Well, you haven't done anything.” What a pitiful retaliation. She felt her face flush in embarrassment.
"I haven't?"
She shook her head.
"We'll have to wait until tonight to find out if you're right."
His response wasn't as comforting as she'd hoped it would be. In fact, it sent a chill down her spine. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. She entered the split-level home. And I'm sure as hell not in Oz.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
From the moment Brett laid eyes on Alex Kincaid, he didn't like her. Maybe it was because he'd expected her to be a man. No, that had only surprised him. It was her attitude. Granted, he'd sounded like a moron blurting out the complete obvious, but her snide comeback had been uncalled for.
Then there were the four suitcases sitting by the staircase. Did she really think she could fit all of her stuff into one dresser and the closet provided for her? When he first arrived at the Bar K, all he'd owned were the clothes on his back and a pack of cigarettes.
"I don't suppose I could get you to help me take these upstairs, could I?"
He glanced up and found Alex standing in the doorway with her manicured hands on her hips and an expectant look in her bright hazel eyes. He returned his attention to the cast iron skillet he was rinsing out.
"Do I look like a porter to you?"
When she didn't reply, he peeked at her and smothered a dark grin. Her expression of shock was priceless. With her delicate mouth dangling open in disbelief, she reminded him of a spoiled child. A very beautiful spoiled child at that.
She narrowed her eyes before striding purposefully into the room. “No, you look like a redneck with a bad attitude."
Of all the labels he'd received over the years—most of which were not flattering—redneck had never been one of them.
"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment.” He shut off the water. “If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Alex dropped her hands to her sides, a sour pout touching her rosy lips. “All right, fine,” she relented. “I'm sorry. Maybe you're not a redneck."
Brett lifted a skeptical eyebrow and paused to look her over. Despite her haughty disposition, Alex was most certainly attractive. With long chocolate-colored hair pulled back from her heart-shaped face by a single barrette, she was one hell of a sight to behold. The tight pale pink tank top she wore accentuated her modest chest while drawing attention to her lightly rounded hips.
It's just a shame someone who looks this good can have such a lousy personality. Well, maybe that was a bit unfair. He didn't know her, but from the two conversations he'd had with her, he wasn't sure he wanted to risk getting to know her.
"Not likely, darlin',” he said with a mocking grin. “I'm from Dallas. I'm about as far from a redneck as you are from a Southern belle. However, your apology is accepted."
"Will you help me then?"
"I'll take two of them up, but it's up to you how you get the other ones upstairs,” he said at last. “I really do have a lot of work to do before I get dinner ready."
Alex beamed before spinning on her heel and entering the living room. Her hair swung behind her and he had to draw his head back to keep from eating a mouthful of the tresses.
"Wonderful.” She slipped the strap of the carry-on bag onto her shoulder and hefted what was undoubtedly the lightest of the suitcases. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. It wasn't nice of me to snap at you when we first met. I think I was just being irritable because everyone assumed I was a man."
Brett gripped the handles of the two bags, but when he tried to lift them, neither of them budged. What the hell?
"Christ almighty, what do you have in here?"
"Oh, please,” she protested while ascending the stairs. “I just brought the bare necessities. You should have seen what Gretchen packed for me before I told her I only needed the basics."
Brett's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. These were the bare necessities? A toothbrush, shampoo, a few changes of clothes and a stick of deodorant were necessities.
"Gretchen?"
Alex nodded. “My personal maid. She's a sweet woman, but has a tendency to over prepare things. Which room is mine?"
This explains so much. Brett reached the landing and jerked his head to the right.
"Last door on the right.” He set the suitcases down and pulled up the retractable handles to wheel the bags to the bedroom.
She pushed the bedroom door open and frowned. “It's a bit s
mall,” she muttered and twisted her head to look at him. “I take it there isn't anything a little larger? I get claustrophobic easily."
Oh, brother. What did she think this was? The Ritz? She was at the Bar K to work off her prison sentence, not take a vacation.
"Sorry, princess,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “All of our suites are booked right now."
Her frown deepened. “No need to be rude. I was only asking.” She wheeled her suitcase into the bedroom. “You can leave those there. I don't want to take up any more of your precious time."
If he made it through the next six months without choking this woman, it would be a bloody miracle. She's Jason's niece, he reminded himself. I have to tolerate her or spend the remaining seven months of my sentence in Hutchins. He had been trying to avoid the state jail for the last six years. If he could help it, this woman would not obstruct his road to freedom.
"How generous of you.” He set the bags upright in front of the door. “You have about an hour and a half to get your things arranged before you need to be downstairs."
Alex lifted her head, arrogant. “Oh? And why is that?"
"Because, you're going to help make dinner.” He gestured to her long nails. “You may want to trim those a bit. Biscuit dough is notoriously difficult to get out from beneath nails."
She gasped and looked at her red painted nails before pressing them against her chest. “Are you crazy? I just had my nails done yesterday and I am not going to ruin Philippe's hard work for the sake of some biscuits.” She shook her head. “You'll just have to think of something else for me to do."
I'll think of something for her to do, all right. By the time I'm done with her, she'll be begging Daddy to get her away from here.
"Fine,” he growled. “Be downstairs in an hour and a half."
She offered him a mock salute. “Yes, sir."
Biting back a rude comment, he turned and started back down the stairs. As he walked, he heard her satisfied laughter mocking him. He clenched his fists by his sides to squelch his annoyance. He would see to it he got the last laugh.
Alex Page 2