A Bull Rider to Depend On

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A Bull Rider to Depend On Page 9

by Jeannie Watt


  “And Skye was good with that?” Before Tyler could answer, Jess went on to ask, “Or was she in a position where she didn’t have a lot of choices?”

  “Are you saying I took advantage?”

  “I’m asking about your motivation and goals.”

  One thing about it...a guy didn’t need a conscience if he had a twin like Jess. “My motivation was to keep Skye from losing the ranch.”

  “Okay.”

  “And to invest my money.”

  “All right.”

  “I hadn’t planned on being there all that often. You know that I’m gone more than I’m home.” Jess didn’t answer. Tyler pushed his beer glass back and forth between his hands, then raised his eye to meet his twin’s gaze. “I’m not going to admit to unrequited love, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

  “You don’t know her well enough for that.”

  True, but he’d always felt that connection...and a couple of times recently, he’d thought that she might have felt it, too. Of course, she’d always seemed a little horrified afterward, which wasn’t exactly promising.

  He pulled in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, dropping an arm over the back. “I’ve always cared for Skye. You know that. But she also made me mad by making out as if I was getting Mason out of bed and marching him to the blackjack tables.”

  “And by marrying Mason.”

  Tyler clamped his mouth shut. There was a limit to how much he would admit to. “I didn’t save her ranch for revenge. I honestly needed an investment. And I...wanted to help her.”

  “Then give her a break.”

  “I’m trying.” The words snapped out. “She’s pretty much fighting me on everything.”

  “She feels powerless.”

  So did he in a lot of ways.

  Tyler let out a breath and focused on his beer. Apparently he’d shared the womb with a psychologist. He took a long drink, draining a good part of the glass, then set it down carefully. “Here’s the deal,” he said. “Skye would have lost the ranch if it hadn’t been for me. She agreed to this partnership, and I’m going to be an active partner, as agreed.” He smiled darkly. “You can drop by every now and then so that she can vent about me doing what we agreed upon.”

  Jess shook his head instead of responding. “When do you want to start roofing?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Unless I get an eleventh-hour call from my boss, I’ll be there at eight or nine.”

  “Great. I appreciate it.” Tyler drained his glass. “One more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want to talk about Skye anymore.”

  * * *

  A FEW DAYS ago she had roofs. Now she had sieves.

  Skye paced through her living room, occasionally glancing out the window toward the county road. Tyler had headed off to town hours ago, leaving her in precious peace, except that Skye found she couldn’t relax. Not when she knew he was coming back.

  The character of the ranch had changed over the past few days. It was no longer her sanctuary, the place where she could hole up and let the world go by. The place where she could recharge after a day of dealing with people. Now, when she should be recharging, she was seething instead. And waiting for his inevitable return.

  Skye pushed her hair back from her forehead with both hands. This was her reality, and only she could control the way she reacted to it. Jinx had not gone out that night, perhaps sensing that she needed both a snuggle buddy and an ally. Now he butted his head against her chin, insisting in his feline way that she chill.

  She dropped a hand onto his back and stroked. The big cat’s motor started, and Skye closed her eyes. At some point she dropped off, because when the throb of the diesel engine jerked her awake, her thighs were almost numb from the weight of the heavy cat. Her partner and adversary was home. Skye nudged Jinx off her lap and stood, shaking out her tingling limbs, then jumping a mile when the first footstep hit her porch. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

  Skye checked the porch through the side window. Sure enough, it was Tyler.

  Why?

  She jerked open the door, did her best not to glare up at her business partner who’d woken her up.

  “Your donkey is out. He won’t let me near him.”

  Skye rolled her eyes, then reached for her coat. At least it wasn’t raining. “Thank you. I’ve been meaning to string a lower wire, so he doesn’t escape so easily, but he’s been staying in lately.”

  Skye headed off across the drive to where she could see Chester standing on the opposite side of the fence from Babe, which explained why the mule had been so silent. Tyler hadn’t followed her, so she took her time getting a halter out of the barn and catching the donkey. She put him back into the corral with Babe, then noticed that the sunflower patch near the barn had been decimated. That explained the escape. Chester would be on reduced rations the next day.

  As she started back across the drive, she slowed as she saw that Tyler was waiting for her at the end of her walk.

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” she said.

  “He probably would have been okay until morning, but like I said, your light was on.”

  “I fell asleep in the chair.”

  He gave a short nod, the light filtering out of the living room window accentuating his cheekbones. Even beaten up and swollen, his face was something. He was more handsome than Mason had been, and judging from his breath, just as fond of beer.

  “Jess is coming to help me with the roofs tomorrow.”

  “Good to know.”

  An awkward silence settled between them—one in which it was obvious that he had things to say, but for some reason wasn’t. Finally he gave her a single nod of dismissal and brushed past her, disappearing around the bunkhouse. She heard the trailer door open and then close, but she didn’t move.

  She hated how unsettled she felt around him. Hated that he could, just by knocking on her door and telling her that her escape-artist donkey was out, boost her adrenaline to the point that she didn’t know if she’d be able to fall asleep again.

  * * *

  “I CANNOT UNDERSTAND why Paige Andrews and Tiffani Crenshaw are still friends,” Angie said as the two women left the café after an early lunch. “It isn’t like Tiffani cares much about anything except for Tiffani. Surely Paige has figured that out by now.”

  Indeed, the hair salon owner did have a reputation for being both self-centered and way too interested in the goings-on of everyone else in the community, but Angie also had a similar rep. She wasn’t self-centered, but she was a gossip extraordinaire.

  “Opposites attract?” Skye asked. And even though it was none of her business, she also wondered what the deal was with Paige and Tyler. Judging from the encounter in the ranch supply store, they’d been more than passing acquaintances, and even though it bordered on being irrational, given their situation, Skye couldn’t say that she liked the idea of the two of them together. For Paige’s sake, of course.

  “Maybe.” Angie looked unconvinced, but since she and Tiffani had had a few skirmishes over the years, Angie was predisposed to disliking the woman. “I thought that Paige would have figured out Tiffani by now.”

  “She might have figured her out a long time ago and accepted her as she is.”

  Angie made a face at Skye. “Do you have to keep being positive when I’m trying so hard to be negative?”

  Skye laughed. “Sorry. I’ll watch myself.”

  “At least they tip well,” Angie muttered as she put bills into the tip jar. She looked over her shoulder. “I’m sure it was Paige.”

  Skye just smiled again and then headed out from behind the counter as a couple she didn’t know came in through the door. She guided them to seats and set the menus on the table.


  “Is the weather here always like this in the summer?” the man asked, sounding disappointed.

  Skye bent to look out the window. The sky was overcast. Gloomy. “Sometimes, but we have our share of sunny days.” Unfortunately, the forecast called for rain on and off for the next several days, but she didn’t see any sense in passing that information along. “Where are you visiting from?”

  “Alabama.”

  “You know,” the wife muttered, wrapping her sweater around her a little tighter, “where it’s warm.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit Alabama,” Skye said as she poured water. “And I hope you have some sunny days while you’re here.”

  The woman picked up her menu with a shake of her head, as if that was never going to happen, and her husband rolled his eyes at her before picking up his menu.

  “Unhappy about the weather,” she murmured to Angie as she went by.

  “Well...it is Montana...”

  “Shh.”

  It didn’t rain, but the wind gusted so hard on Skye’s drive home that she had to fight to keep her little car on the road at times. When she pulled into her driveway, there was no sign of Jess’s truck, which meant the twins must have had the good sense not to try to work in this weather.

  The sound of rapid hammering brought her eyes up, and she caught sight of Tyler on the opposite side of the granary roof. Okay. So much for good sense. A wind gust smacked into Skye, nearly knocking her off her feet.

  Swallowing a sigh, she headed toward the far side of the granary, hoping to get there before the wind blew Tyler off the roof. If he hurt himself again, he may never leave the ranch.

  Chapter Nine

  “What are you doing up there?” Skye called when she reached the base of the ladder.

  Tyler paused midswing and glanced down as if surprised to see her. “Learning to hammer left-handed.” The wind was blowing so strongly that it was difficult to hear him.

  Skye put a hand on her forehead to keep her hair out of her eyes. “Where is your brother?”

  “On the other side of Montana. He got called out on a job.”

  “So you’ve been up there all day?” Obviously from the amount of work he’d gotten done. “Alone?”

  “This needs done,” he said.

  Skye agreed. It did need done. “I have to change.”

  She turned and headed for the house. He might have called her name—it was difficult to tell over the wind—but she kept walking. Jinx came trotting out from under the porch, and she scooped him up and carried him into the house under one arm. Once inside, she set the heavy cat onto the arm of the sofa, then walked down the hall to her bedroom to change into jeans, running shoes and a sweatshirt. She took a few minutes to rebraid her hair, to keep it from beating her to death, then grabbed gloves out of the basket by the door and headed back out into the weather.

  Tyler was coming down off the roof as she rounded the corner of the granary, climbing down the ladder one-handed and making Skye wish that she owned a more stable ladder. Hers was old and wooden and had a couple of loose rungs. In other words, it was an accident waiting to happen and Tyler had been using it all day—with a bum shoulder. Maybe it was because she’d lost her husband not all that long ago to a senseless accident that she was more focused on the possibility of danger than she used to be. Whatever the cause, she felt a flash of annoyance.

  “What if you had fallen today?” she asked as soon as Tyler’s boots hit the ground.

  He frowned at her. “What if you hit a deer with your car while driving home?”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning,” he said in a patient voice, “that just because something can happen, it doesn’t mean that it will.”

  “So let’s just tempt fate?”

  He shook his head and then picked up a few sheets of shingles and draped them over his good shoulder. “I tempt fate for a living, sweetheart.”

  She knew he was being sarcastic, playing the cocky bull rider, but she couldn’t help the way her spine stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Sorry. That was a jerk move.” He spoke with a sincerity that almost undid her. He hadn’t intended to insult her.

  She clenched her teeth for a moment, wondering if she was being unreasonable about not wanting him on a roof with a bad ladder and an injury. No. She wasn’t. But he was a bull rider and looked at life differently than normal people. As for the “sweetheart”...

  One corner of her mouth quirked as she muttered, “I get called sweetheart a lot at work. Along with honey, dearie, sweetie.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “One guy calls me sweet cheeks, and I don’t think he’s talking about my face.”

  “Who calls you that?”

  There was a note in Tyler’s voice that made Skye decide that said guy should remain anonymous. “It doesn’t matter. I can deal with it.”

  He gave her an if-you-say-so look and started up the ladder. The first big fat drops of rain hit just as he dropped the shingles.

  “You better come down.” The rain would make the roof slick, and it wasn’t as if he could finish enough to keep the interior of the shed from getting wet.

  “When I finish this row.”

  There was an open toolbox sitting at the base of the ladder. Skye went over to it, picked up the hammer sitting on top of the tools and closed the lid, then draped four shingles over her shoulder the same way he had. She’d barely started up the ladder when Tyler’s face appeared.

  “What are you doing, Skye?”

  She held up the hammer and continued to climb.

  “This roof is going to get slippery,” he warned.

  “Exactly. So I’ll help you get done.” She kept climbing. When she scrambled off the ladder onto the new shingles, Tyler frowned at her.

  “Be sensible.”

  Skye laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Really?”

  The rain was coming faster now. Tyler shifted his weight, and Skye could plainly see bull rider stubbornness battling logic.

  His mouth tightened, then he picked up his hammer and the can of nails, before gesturing to the ladder. “Ladies first.” He knelt down to take hold of one of the uprights while she eased herself onto the rungs. The ladder was already slippery, and she was glad to be heading toward earth—and she was glad that Tyler was coming down right after her. She held the ladder until he was halfway down, then stepped back just as his feet came off the rung and he plummeted earthward, grabbing wildly at the ladder, which Skye instantly took hold of.

  The hammer missed her, but the nail can hit her on the shoulder as Tyler slid by, landing on his side in the wet gravel at her feet. Skye gasped and dropped to her knees as he pushed himself to a sitting position, pressing his palm against his chin. Blood flowed from between his fingers, dripping on his jeans.

  Skye took hold of his fingers and pulled his hand away from his chin, wrinkling her nose as blood ran down his shirt. She instantly pushed his hand back up against his chin. Their faces were close enough that she could see that his pupils had dilated. Pain? Awareness?

  Because despite the rain and the blood and the muck, he was studying her in a way that made her pulse bump higher. That was when she realized that she had a hand resting on his knee. Quickly she snatched it away and sat back. Even with another foot of space between them, she could still smell him—wet wool, denim and leather. Man.

  “You might need a stitch there,” she said as she got to her feet. She hesitated then held out a hand, because that was what she would do for someone who wasn’t making her insides turn small somersaults.

  Crazy, crazy, crazy.

  But she hadn’t been with a guy in a while. Or even around a guy. Plus, Tyler was off-limits. Her business partner. Her former enemy. Forbidden fruit.

  Although enemy was a strong word.
Nemesis was better.

  “Stitches are for sissies,” he said, and Skye felt a bubble of laughter start to rise as she zeroed in on the stitches between his eyes. Great. On top of everything she was becoming hysterical. “I have some butterflies in my med kit,” he said.

  “Want help?” The last thing she wanted was to be in close quarters with him, touching him, but she was his partner and he was hurt.

  “I’m good.”

  “I’m not squeamish. I’ve stitched up animals.” Her father had taught her how.

  He gave her a dark look. “You aren’t offering to stitch me up, are you?”

  “Maybe your mouth.” He choked back a laugh, then grimaced, obviously in pain. Skye wrinkled her nose. “Go take care of that before I do. I’ll get the tools out of the rain.”

  Tyler didn’t argue. He turned and started for his trailer, and Skye watched him go for a second, before gathering the nails into the can and then stowing the tools in the barn. She was soaked by the time she was done, but there was still the feeding to do...or there should have been the feeding to do.

  All the mangers were full. Even Vanessa the goose’s troughs had been filled.

  Tyler had fed the menagerie before she could. It made sense, since he’d been home and she’d been at work, but feeding was her time to connect with her animals, and she missed her evening ritual.

  Both Chester and Babe were in one small stall that opened out onto the pasture. It was such tight quarters that the mini-donkey was practically standing underneath the tall mule as he ate. Skye noted that neither seemed to care who had fed them. The manger was full, and they were happy.

  The rain had stopped by the time she left the barn, but there were so many puddles that Skye had to choose a path between them on the way back to her house. The lights were on in Tyler’s trailer, shining golden yellow against the gray day, making Skye wonder how he was doing fixing up his chin. Tyler had to be a pro at doctoring himself up, meaning he’d do fine without her help. And maybe he’d stay off slippery roofs and ladders.

  She’d just closed her front yard gate when she heard Tyler’s trailer door open and the sound of his boots hitting the ground outside the door. Curious as to where he was going, she waited until he rounded the corner, holding a wadded-up washcloth to his chin.

 

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