by T. J. Kline
ANGELA FELT ELATED. She was trying to hide her excitement, mainly because no one would understand the huge weight that seemed to drop from her shoulders with every mile she drove away from her apartment. She’d packed up her meager belongings and left her father with a glass of water, some aspirin, and a note promising to collect him after her assignment finished; her father was still sleeping off his hangover. The refrigerator and cupboards were full, but every trace of alcohol was cleaned out of the house. Joe had promised to check on him twice a week for the next few weeks. There was nothing left for her to do but get in her car and drive toward their future, their freedom. She knew that eventually she would need to call and check on her father, but she was never returning to that apartment. It was now a part of her past, and she was heading to their future. This was the first step on her way to a better life for them both. This breath of freedom would become the first of many.
She parked the car and jumped from behind the wheel. “Who is Jen?” she asked Derek as he walked toward her. “I don’t think I met her yesterday.”
A scowl marred his handsome features. He looked like he wanted to throw her off of the property again, and she wondered if she hadn’t been too aggressive yesterday. Angela chewed at her lower lip nervously. It looked like she was going to have to do some damage control with this cowboy.
“Look, I want to apologize for yesterday. I might have been a bit overeager for my story. Can we start over?” The words rushed out in a tumble as she thrust out her hand, praying that he would accept her peace offering at face value. She knew she had an ulterior motive, but he didn’t realize how badly she needed this story to move ahead with her plan for her future.
He simply stared at her hand as if it were a snake about to strike, his dark eyes narrowing with distrust. “Overeager,” he repeated, sarcasm tingeing his voice. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to describe it.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and she tried to ignore the way his biceps bulged, stretching the arms of his t-shirt. How in the world did a cowboy get this muscular? He looked as if he spent hours in the gym. The t-shirt stretched across his chest and her mouth went dry. Her pulse skipped a beat before racing ahead, and she felt a blush creeping up the back of her neck. Knowing it would show on her face immediately and not wanting him to see how he was affecting her, she turned back toward the car, pretending to busy herself with the boxes in the backseat.
“Mr. Chandler, I hope we’ll be able to work together without any problems. I’m coming into this with an open mind. I was hoping you might do the same.” She glanced at him over her shoulder as he continued to glare at her.
“What’s all that?” He jerked his chin toward the pile of luggage and boxes crammed into her backseat. “Planning on moving in permanently?”
“No, but a girl never knows what she might need,” she joked. She tried to cover her nervousness with a laugh, but what slipped past her lips came off sounding near-hysterical. She had to get control over herself. She wasn’t about to confess that she’d packed everything she owned into her small car.
Angela turned and leaned back against the car door before shrugging. “I like to be prepared for every circumstance. There’s a lot of equipment we’ll need,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t realize her deception once she unpacked her car.
He sighed, not bothering to hide his irritation with her presence. “Jen’s in that trailer.” He pointed toward a fifth-wheel trailer already hitched to a truck. A huge cowboy was loading plastic totes into the compartment on the side. Derek turned to walk away.
“But . . .”
“What?” he asked, turning back, exasperated. “I’m sure you can introduce yourself. You didn’t have any problem with it yesterday.”
His eyes darkened from coffee to cocoa and she wondered if he wasn’t testing her, being deliberately challenging in hopes she would give up and go home. She lifted her chin slightly, determined to prove to him that she could match his defiance.
“Fine.” She clicked the button on her car alarm, signaling to him that it was locked and she was finished with their conversation. Shoving the keys into her pocket, she walked away from him, leaving him standing alone at her car.
That’s what you call damage control, Angela?
Chapter Four
* * *
ANGELA SIGHED AS she glanced at her vibrating cell phone. This was the sixth call she’d received during the three-hour drive to the ranch she would soon be calling her home, at least temporarily. She recognized Joe’s number again on the caller ID. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, so she pushed the button on her earpiece.
“Hey, Joe. What’s up?” She prayed her father wasn’t already causing trouble.
“Almost there?”
“I think so. The crew will be there in the morning, right?”
“About that.” He hesitated. “The station isn’t too happy sinking money into this. They want you to come back.”
Panic flooded her chest, drying her mouth and closing her throat. She’d barely made it out of town. She couldn’t let them kill this story before it happened. It was going to be the one opportunity that would change her life; she could feel it. Every journalist knew to trust their gut instinct above logic, and hers was screaming at her to keep moving forward.
“Joe, you have to convince them. You know what this means to me,” she pleaded. She hated begging, but she couldn’t admit defeat this easily.
“I’ve tried, Gigi.” She cringed, wondering how many times she had to tell him she hated that nickname.
“I won’t give up on this. You know as well as I do that there’s a story here.”
“No,” he argued. “I don’t. I know that you want to run away and you’re grasping at this as a way to do it.”
Angela’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror and the cowboy driving the black truck. She could come up with far more friendly places to run away to than one run by a stock contractor who already hated her. Nothing would make Derek Chandler happier than for her to turn around and head back without any story, her tail tucked between her legs in defeat. He’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t welcoming her on the ranch and wouldn’t be any help getting her story. Without the backing of the station or even a cameraman, she wasn’t sure she could do this. How could she conduct an interview and videotape it at the same time?
“Don’t I have vacation time coming?” Please be my friend instead of my boss now.
“It’s not like you’ve ever used any of it, so I’m sure you do. Why?” She could hear the irritation in his voice, just like when she’d outsmarted him as kids.
“Give me the next few weeks off. If I can prove there’s a story, will you send the crew?”
He sighed into the mouthpiece of the phone, and she knew she was testing his patience. She seemed to be doing that a lot with the men around her lately. “I don’t like this idea one bit, Gigi. You don’t know these people.”
“Please, Joe? I’ll be fine, and if I don’t have anything in two weeks I’ll come back, no complaints. I promise.”
“Two weeks?” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Angela, I don’t think they’ll let you take two weeks off together.”
Angela? Either he’s furious or someone just walked into the room. Since he didn’t lower his voice, she assumed he was angry at her. She might as well push the envelope now.
“Two weeks,” she repeated, praying that she could dig up something promising before then.
Ideas and theories weren’t going to be enough. She needed concrete evidence and a killer story.
Desperation gripped her chest and squeezed as she realized that in less than two weeks, she might have to destroy the livelihood of the very people welcoming her into their home.
DEREK WATCHED THE woman in the car in front of him as they pulled through the gates, declaring their arrival on the ranch. Not long ago she’d been pretty animated in the car, and he assumed she’d been talking to someone on her cell pho
ne. She slowed as her tires left the paved road and met with the crunch of gravel. Her small car kicked up dust and pebbles, so he slowed the truck, letting it fall farther behind so that the tiny rocks wouldn’t damage his windshield. Each one was fairly harmless, but given the right velocity they could become dangerous ammunition. Like the redhead in front of him. He was afraid she would take any little detail she found and twist it into a destructive news story. One sick animal or accident and she could cause the downfall of everything his family had built together.
He watched the stock trailer with the cattle peel off and head to the north pasture while the trailers with the bulls split and went toward his sister’s house. He wasn’t surprised to see Sydney exit the barn and wave, carrying his niece on one hip as they pulled up the drive. The blue sedan made its way toward the front of the house as he parked his truck near the barn. Several more rigs followed them down the drive as the crew hurried to unload the animals and get them settled. It was always hectic unloading after a rodeo, but with an extra set of judgmental eyes, Derek worried over every detail.
“Hey, take it slow with those bulls,” he yelled as one of the boys passed. The driver waved a hand, letting Derek know he’d been heard. “Let’s get these horses out,” he ordered, reaching for another, newer crew member.
He glanced toward Angela in time to see her slip out of her seat and stare at the activity, her eyes wide with awe. He was reassured to see her overwhelmed by the busyness around her. Maybe realizing just how hard they worked, how important their livelihood was to their family, would send her home empty-handed and apologetic.
“Sydney,” he called, hurrying over to his sister-in-law. “Where’s Scott?” He looked back over his shoulder as Silvie, their housekeeper, came out and enveloped a hesitant Angela in a warm embrace. He frowned as he turned back to her. “We have trouble.”
“Scott’s in the barn. Who’s she?”
“A reporter.” He couldn’t help the distaste coloring his voice. “She’s doing a story on the abuse of rodeo stock.”
“Then why is she here?” she asked, adjusting her daughter, Kassie, on her hip while she played with her necklace.
“Mike invited her to travel with us for a while. Won’t that be fun?” He shook his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
She sighed, looking skeptical. “Scott’s not going to like this.”
Derek held his hands up in defense. “I had nothing to do with it. I tried to stop Mike.” Kassie saw that he had his hands up and leaned toward him. He scooped her out of her mother’s arms and kissed the curls on top of her head.
Sydney looked from Derek to the woman Silvie led toward the house. “This was Mike’s idea?” A slow, confident smile spread over her face, her eyes lighting up. “Looks like he’s at it again.”
Derek glanced up as his brother came out of the barn and draped his arm around his wife, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “At what again?”
He and Scott hadn’t always gotten along well. It had been worse when Sydney arrived at the ranch as Mike’s new horse trainer. But over the past year they’d been able to put the past behind them and begin mending their strained relationship. Scott set a high standard. Derek had big shoes to fill in the company business, and at times Derek felt like it was nearly impossible. No matter how hard he tried, he struggled to be the man his brother was. Derek felt the need to continually prove himself.
“Mike’s matchmaking again.” She directed Scott’s attention toward Angela. “He invited a reporter to stay.” Sydney untangled Kassie’s fist from Derek’s t-shirt just before the little girl leaned forward, reaching for her father’s hat.
Scott’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why would a reporter come here?” Derek explained the situation to them. “Why didn’t anyone call us? I know you were busy, but Jen could’ve called.”
“Jen went right along with Mike.”
Derek was glad his brother shared his resentment at Angela’s presence. Technically, Scott had the final say on all business matters with the company, being the majority shareholder after buying out Mike’s shares and distributing them equally between the three of them, but they had all unanimously agreed to allow Mike to continue running it as he saw fit. They loved him too much to ever ask him to step down. None of them could forget that Mike had taken them in and raised them after their parents were killed. None of them would turn their back on that kind of loyalty.
“Scott, you know Mike.” Derek handed Kassie off to her father as she leaned toward him. “He does what he wants. I guess he’s decided that, right now, he wants a reporter snooping around during our busiest time of the year. I don’t understand it, I don’t like it, but there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.” Derek threw a look over his shoulder where the woman had disappeared into the main house. “Doesn’t look like you can either.”
“Wanna bet?” Scott started toward the house, determination etched on his brow.
Sydney put a hand on Scott’s shoulder, stopping his tirade. “Just wait.” Her voice was soft but stern. “I’m sure Mike has his reasons for having her here. You didn’t want me here either, remember?” She arched her brow at him, and Scott twisted his mouth into a grin.
“Fine, for now,” he agreed grudgingly. “Come on, little lady,” he cooed to his daughter in his arms as she stared up at him, a smile of delight spreading over her face. “Daddy’s gonna show you the big horsies.”
As Scott walked back into the barn, Derek turned to Sydney. “How did you manage to turn my macho brother into the world’s biggest softie?”
Sydney glanced back at her husband and daughter as the two entered the barn and laughed. “It wasn’t me. That was all Kassie’s doing.”
Derek eyed his brother, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy piercing his heart. He wanted what Scott and Sydney shared, what his sister and Clay had together. He wanted his own family someday, complete with someone who would light up whenever he walked into the room. He wanted to find someone he could be vulnerable with without worrying that he was going to disappoint them. For a while, he hoped he’d found it with Sydney. It had been difficult when she chose his brother over him even if he knew it was the right decision, so he went on the road with Mike for the start of the rodeo season. Time had given him the perspective he needed, and he realized they’d never shared what she had with Scott. Those two were meant to be together, but seeing them made him wonder whether there was actually someone who could fill the emptiness he felt inside.
ANGELA WASN’T SURE how to respond as the housekeeper wrapped her in a warm hug only moments after meeting her. She’d never been overly affectionate and was uncomfortable with touchy-feely people who didn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space. However, she also didn’t think it would be in her best interest to alienate the very people welcoming her into their home, so she tolerated the hug and pretended to return the sentiment.
She didn’t have to try hard; it was difficult not to like Silvie immediately. She looked exactly the way Angela imagined her grandmother would have if she’d ever known her, complete with gray hair, apron around her rounded hips, and ample stomach. Wrinkles of laughter and joy crinkled around her eyes and the curve of her mouth.
“Come inside, dear. You must be hungry after that drive.” She shuffled Angela up the porch stairs and toward the house. “Those men never stop and eat,” she fussed. “And just look how thin you are! You look like you need a few good meals.”
Angela glanced back toward the barn in time to see Derek frowning in her direction before turning back to his conversation with the woman holding an infant. He looked angry again and she had the unreasonable urge to apologize. She wasn’t sure why she should feel remorseful or why she cared if he hated her presence, but the feeling remained just the same.
She saw him tip the front of his hat toward her slightly, acknowledging her. She narrowed her eyes, assuming he was somehow mocking her, and on a whim blew him a kiss as she turned on her heel and followed Silvie
into the house. She immediately regretted her childish impulse and scolded herself for her lack of self-control.
“Silvie, I’m fine. Really,” she insisted, hurrying to catch up to the woman who was surprisingly nimble for her age. “I’m not that hungry. If you show me where I’ll be staying, I’ll just start unpacking my car.” And hide in my room doing research.
“Oh, pshh.” Silvie waved her off. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I’ll get the boys to bring your things into the house and we’ll get you settled in a bit. Right now, sit, and I’ll get you something to tide you over until dinner.”
Left with little choice in the matter, Angela slid into one of the chairs surrounding a large kitchen table. She slid her hand over the well-worn surface, feeling the nicks and scratches. No doubt they had shared several family dinners around this table, filled with deep conversation and raucous laughter. She’d seen enough at the rodeo to know that Derek was fiercely protective of his family and their business. She thought of the meals she and her father had shared throughout the years, most consisting of deafening silence while he drank his entree from a bottle and she warmed some sort of frozen dinners from boxes. There’d been no laughter in her childhood, no father-daughter conversations or tenderness. Even when her mother was alive, mealtime had been an experiment in sensory deprivation, where she and her mother remained as quiet as possible to allow her father to sleep off his latest hangover. Most nights, even the silence didn’t help, and the war between them would rage while Angela hid in her room.
“So, Angela,” Silvie’s voice interrupted her depressing thoughts of the past. “What will your story be about? We really don’t see many reporters around here.”
Silvie bustled around the kitchen, filling the coffee pot with water before opening the oven to check on the food cooking inside. As soon as the oven door opened, the delicious scent of sage and garlic filled the kitchen. Angela inhaled the heavenly scent of yeasty homemade bread, and her stomach growled loudly. She covered it with her hand quickly, but Silvie had already heard it and laughed sweetly.