by Aliyah Burke
Dustin glared at the man he used to consider a friend. One of his best. And he worked for Dustin. Used to.
“I’m sorry, man.”
He narrowed his gaze and struggled not to punch Travis Hill in the bastard’s smug face. “Sorry? You’re sorry? What, that I caught you screwing my fiancée, at the time, on our wedding day? Or that you’ve lost your job? What?”
Travis held his hat before him, almost like a shield. Not that it would help him any. “All of it. I…I don’t know what happened.”
Dustin didn’t want to hear it, nor did he give a damn. “Get off my ranch. You are no longer welcome on the Diamond J. Get your shit and get gone.”
“Come on, man. Better you find out now, right? Before you married her and she cheated on you.”
A low rumble rose in his chest. “If you ever had a brain, Travis, you’ll get out of my face. You see me, don’t speak. In fact it’d be a best bet to cross the street to avoid me.”
“Problem, boss?”
Connor Walters, his foreman, best friend, and best man who’d been the one—the only one—of the groomsmen who hadn’t slept with his ex-fiancée, stood there with his hands crossed over his chest and ready to back Dustin up.
“Get this shitwipe out of my sight. Escort him to the barn to collect his things, then toss him off the Diamond J.”
“With pleasure, boss.”
Connor was a big man. He’d grown up on a ranch, left for a stint in the Army but got out after four and returned to Branchwater with nightmares, PTSD, and a need for something different. Dustin had needed a foreman, and Connor had fit the bill.
“I’ll be inside.”
Connor joined him a bit later. Dustin stood at the window, desperately trying to ignore the drink he’d poured.
“He’s gone.”
“Good riddance.” Dustin rested his fist on the glass. “Thanks for handling that.”
“Shoulda let me kick the bastard’s ass.”
“Don’t need my foreman jailed.”
Dustin put his hand in his jeans pocket, the smooth bracelet he kept there bringing him a small measure of comfort. He’d searched for it that night two weeks ago after the mysterious Finn left and had kept it on him ever since. As to why he did, he wasn’t sure, all he knew was it brought him some sort of comfort. He liked that.
“Give me a list of farriers. Now that Travis is gone I’m going to need a new one.”
“Gonna be hard, boss. Especially right now. It’s getting close to the Expo.”
He knew that. He also knew his animals needed someone soon. A few mounts were already out for throwing shoes.
“I can do it in a pinch but see what you can scrounge up for me.”
“You got it.”
Connor left and Dustin pulled the link chain bracelet out, staring at it. Pewter not gold or silver. Unpretentious and it looked worn and well loved. Rubbing his thumb along it, he stared out the window over his ranch. It was his again. He'd had all traces and reminders of Charlotte boxed up and sent to her apartment. The one she’d wanted to keep until after they returned from their honeymoon.
He gave a final glance to the bracelet and returned it to his pocket. He had plenty of work waiting for him. Regardless, in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite forget his night pixie.
* * * *
Finn smiled at the roan mare as she slid the stall door shut behind her. “Good girl, Mrs. Jones.” The mare whickered, turning around in her freshly cleaned stall as if she approved.
“She’s missed you, kid.”
“I’ve missed her too. The first horse I learned to ride well on.”
Her father moved up beside her, crutches under his arms. “Always the smartest decision we ever made. You hated the ponies but got the biggest smile on your face when they brought her in the arena.”
“She always took care of me.”
He nodded his head. “That she did. That she did.”
“Something you needed me to do? You could have used the intercom.”
“I’m using crutches, babygirl, I’m not an invalid.”
She flushed but didn’t look away from him. “I know, Daddy. I just worry.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’m fine. I did come for a reason though. Are you done in here?”
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Jones was the last. I spent some extra time with her—”
“Gave her some sugar cubes,” her father said, interrupting her.
Finn laughed. “You caught me. What can I say? She loves them.”
“Walk with me.”
One final glance to her old mare and she fell into step with her father. They moved slowly up the aisle, the smell of horses, sawdust, and hay in the air. It was just her and her father, as her mother had abandoned them when she turned ten. On her birthday actually. Wasn’t much in the way of gifts in her opinion, but she was a daddy’s girl and her mother was naught but a distant memory now.
“I have a potential job, if you want it.”
She slid the door shut after them, so if any horses got out of their stalls they could only go out into the fenced in area. “A job? Who would hire me around here?” She’d come home for the sole purpose of taking over her father’s clients until he was back on his feet working. She wasn’t out advertising for work, and then again there was the fact she was a female and around here, despite her daddy having taught her everything, she didn’t have the ‘correct’ parts in many eyes to do the job she did.
“He’s waiting up at the house,” her father said, ignoring her question.
“You’re being oddly cryptic.”
“He came for me, I have to be honest. When he saw the crutches, he was going to leave. I told him I had someone else who could do it, and he wants to talk to you.”
Knowing her father, that would be all she’d get. Approaching the house, she couldn’t identify the tan F-350 parked in the drive. Inside she followed her father into his office. A large man stood by the window, and she ran her gaze over him. Definitely a working man, with his worn jeans and tight shirt. Dusty cowboy boots on his feet and a cowboy hat in one hand.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Walters. This is my daughter, Finn.”
Dark green eyes roved over her. She didn’t move, used to men staring at her, assessing her. It wasn’t anything new. She also knew what he saw. Loose fit jeans with a hole in them, dirt on them as well, red shirt, and her own dusty boots.
He seemed familiar to her, but she couldn’t place from where or who. With a sigh, he stroked a hand over the heavy stubble on his jaw. “Ms. Finley.”
“Finn is fine.”
“Finn.” He acquiesced with a nod. “I don’t think this will work.”
It never changes, all this assumption I can’t do the job because I don’t have a dick. One of the reasons I left this town so easily. I should let him go…although the extra money would be helpful for daddy. Her father didn’t speak, letting her handle this on her own. She hooked her thumbs in her back pockets, gloves brushing her left wrist.
“I’m not sure what you’re after, Mr. Walters. Perhaps you’d like to tell me and we can go from there. I need to get a drink. Shall we?”
Walters trailed her to the kitchen where she poured them both some tea after washing her hands.
“What are you looking for?” The tea slid down her throat, refreshing her.
“I need a farrier to come check about twenty horses.”
She popped some grapes in her mouth from the smooth oak bowl on the island. “You don’t think I’m what you want.”
“Honestly? No.”
“Fair enough. You’re not the first person to question whether or not I can do it. And I’m sure you won’t be the last. I could give you a whole lot of reasons, Mr. Walters, why you should hire me. But you’re the one needing the service, not me.”
He scrutinized her before reaching out and taking some grapes himself. She chewed an ice cube as he finished his bite.
“How long have you done thi
s?”
“I grew up with it. You know my father, he’s taught me everything I know. I can work hot or cold, whichever you prefer for your horses.” She propped her hip against the counter.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
Staring at him, she shook her head. “Sorry, no.”
“Connor Walters.”
It took a few clicks of time before it sank in. How could she have forgotten him? Granted they’d never hung around with one another, but he’d hung out with Dustin. The two of them were inseparable in school. The man hadn’t been mean to her, but frankly they’d had no reason to cross paths. So it was just in the hallways she would see him.
“Right, I remember you. Good to see you. How have you been?”
“And you. I’m good, foreman out at the Diamond J Ranch. Look, we’re desperate for a farrier. I have to be honest. I’d be hesitant anyway but especially now.”
She ate another grape. He worked with Dustin, so his hesitation made a bit more sense now. Wonder if it’s because he doesn’t think I’m good enough or because Dustin doesn’t want any other women on the ranch? “Because of the wedding which didn’t happen?” At his look, she continued, “I was there. Is he going to have a problem with me because I’m a farrier or because I’m a woman?”
“I don’t know.”
She finished her tea and fought a yawn. “I can come out and do a few, you can see if you’d like me to do the rest.”
He leaned forward resting large hands on the island. “You’re not offended by my hesitation?”
“It bothers me, but I’ve faced a lot of bigotry so as I said, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I’m a damn good farrier. I don’t have to scream because I may be overlooked for the reason I have ovaries. My work speaks for itself.”
“When can you come?”
“No question about money?”
“No, you don’t strike me as a woman who is going to cheat people. How soon can you come out?”
“Let me grab a sandwich and I’ll go right now. My day was clear.”
“Did you want me to wait or do you know the way to the Diamond J?”
She knew the way. The Diamond J was the second largest spread around Branchwater. Opening the refrigerator, she stared at the options and said, “Ham, turkey, or both?”
* * * *
“There you are, boy, all fixed up.” She patted the muscular rump of the sorrel Quarter Horse as she allowed him to put his hoof back down. The gelding snorted, trying unsuccessfully to turn his head. “Give me a few, boy, and I’ll get you back to your stall.”
Tools down, she unhooked him from the double ties, which held him after snapping on the lead rope. Bobbing his head, he pawed at the floor.
“Come on, boy.” After she removed his halter, he nudged her pocket once they reached his stall. “Sweetie, I don’t know if you’re allowed sugar cubes.”
“He’s allowed.”
The words came with a deep masculine timbre, which stroked along her skin and set her heart to pounding so much faster. She had dreams about this voice and the man who wielded it with devastating ease. Dustin Kane. Dreams not even moving across the country could assuage.
She took a moment, paying attention to the equine before her. Digging into her pocket, she withdrew the sought for sugar. Velvet soft lips plucked it from her palm with a feather light touch. Then she glanced over her shoulder and promptly lost her breath.
She’d not seen him since the night she’d fallen on her posterior before him. Then—aside from being a klutz—she looked a bit more put together. Today, she was sweaty, dirty, and smelled of horse. If she had to face the man she’d dreamt about constantly she would have preferred to have on something more than sweat from herself and horses. Then again, she was more comfortable like this and to be honest, no matter what she wore Dustin would make her a nervous wreck.
“You didn’t tell me, Samantha Finley, who you were.”
Leaving the stall, ensuring to secure it after her, she shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered. I told you we’d met before.”
Dustin watched her intently from below the brim of his worn cowboy hat. It wasn’t a new one he’d just picked off the rack to impress a woman. No, it was obviously well-worn with signs of miles traveled on it. Dropping her gaze, she worked her way up his body. Broken-in boots poked out from the legs of well-fitting jeans. His tucked in shirt molded to his chest in ways that highlighted every defined muscle, sleeves barely containing powerful arms. A large belt buckle glinted in the light.
She was in trouble. He had the most incredible eyes. A deep royal blue. Intense. And often a contributor to her numerous dreams of him.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming out.”
“Job’s a job.” She began packing up her tools, grateful it gave her a new focal point.
“You coming back tomorrow?”
Hands on hips, she glanced up at him. “I don’t know. Am I?”
He crossed his arms. “Connor said your work was perfect and the horses respond well to you. Says you have a way with them.”
“Pointless on being a farrier if you don’t get along with horses.” His gaze tracked her as she swept up the clippings. She did her best to ignore it, but he didn’t make it easy. He made her feel like she was back in school and had been caught sneaking a peek in his direction. “You want me, I’m here.” The second the words were out, she realized how they sounded. Flashing to his face, she gauged his expression.
Nothing in the way of realizing words other than how they were said.
“Excellent.” He whirled around and strode off.
She stared at his departing form. Purely masculine. Cowboy. Hottie. And by all appearances not the least bit interested in her. Just got rid of a fiancée on their wedding day. If it were you, you wouldn’t be interested either. She scowled at her brain’s reminder.
It would be different for her. Dustin Kane had always been her kryptonite. Rolling her eyes at her sappiness, she got back to the task at hand. Outside, she readjusted her cap, hefted her tools in the back of her bright silver metallic Big Horn crew cab Ram 3500 Dually, then climbed inside. Truck running, pumping AC over her heated body, she called her dad.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
She rolled her shoulders to loosen up. “Fine. I’m just leaving. Want me to pick something up for dinner?”
“No, honey, Mrs. Pendle is back from her vacation. She stopped by and has it cooking.”
“See you soon, then.” She ended the call and shifted into gear, pulling away. As she drove down the long drive in her rearview, she spied the silhouette of a figure on horseback, stock still amongst the mingling and bawling cattle.
Dustin?
She hadn’t a clue, but she’d like think so. Wouldn’t it be great if he thought about her as she did him?
“Hey,” she said adjusting her radio, “I’m allowed to dream and I may as well dream big.”
Chapter Two
She was back. Her. Samantha Finley. Finn. Dustin shifted in the saddle, the familiar creak of leather not helpful in calming the pulse that raced through him. She’d been around for the past week working on his horses. He did his best to avoid her; unfortunately, he saw her every day. Still, he kept his distance. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about her seeing him at the low point after the wedding that didn’t happen. No, not the reason. More like he had begun dreaming about her, waking hard and desperate for relief. The kind of relief his own touch couldn’t begin to provide more than a temporary solution for. The kind of relief he knew would start and end with Samantha Finley.
Her dark brown hair with copper gold highlights shone in the sun as she walked one of his prized cutting horses back out to the pasture. She was really good with them. Even Connor had mentioned it more than once.
“You know it’s called stalking when you watch someone so much.”
“Go away, Connor.”
He never turned his attention from the woman securing the gate
behind her before returning to the barn. She mesmerized him. And he didn’t much care for it. A woman had played him for a fool before, and he had no wish or intention to go through it again.
“And miss this? Are you crazy?”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Dustin asked.
The man snorted. “Don’t you?”
Dustin sighed. He sure did. Tons to do but he continuously found himself watching Finn. The other day it had been almost an hour before it sank in what he was doing. Or wasn’t as the case had been.
“Go talk to her.”
Dustin rolled the toothpick in his mouth. “I just got rid of a fiancée.”
“I know. However, I was suggesting actual talk, not a marriage proposal—although that would surely shake things up around here. You know it begins with something so simple as hello, hi, or even howdy ma’am.”
“Can you go bother the cattle and leave me alone?”
“I could, but this is much more exciting for me.” Connor moved his mount up more. The gray gelding snorted before lowering his head and nuzzling Dustin’s own.
“I should fire you,” Dustin groused.
“Yes, but then who would annoy you with these questions?”
“No one, but wouldn’t that be the plan? Have no one to be a pain in my ass.”
“I’d find a way to do so.” They sat in silence for a bit before Connor glanced at him. “Are you going to sit there and pine, or do you plan on talking?”
“I was thinking of killing you, would that suffice?”
She walked back outside, the leather apron emphasizing the nice tuck of her waist and the flare of her hips. Hips that had increasingly played a part in his dreams. Of course, his hands were holding her there as he thrust…
“Finn!” Connor called out, spurring his horse toward her. Finn glanced in their direction, but he was too far away to make out her expression.
“Bastard,” Dustin muttered, following him down.
The closer he got the tighter his throat and jeans became. She stood there, hands stuffed in back pockets, thrusting her all too tempting breasts forward. Halting beside them, he tipped his hat when she deigned to look at him.