“Are you enjoying a night out also?” she asked.
He beamed. “Me and the wife came to celebrate our twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“Congratulations.” Elle made introductions.
“Dillon, nice to meet you.” Rodney stretched his hand out. Dillon firmly shook it, echoing Rodney’s words. “You’re one of the Walker boys that farm north of town?”
“Are we infamous?”
Rodney chuckled. “No, I was raised here so I knew your dad and uncles. They were a bit ahead of me in school.”
“Then they’re responsible for all the rumors.”
“Absolutely. I’d better get back to the missus.” He nodded at both of them, his mouth tightening briefly when he looked at Elle. “You two have a good night.”
Dillon brought his attention back to Elle and the crease in her forehead. “He seems nice.”
“He is. He’s notorious for being very strict, holding his counselors to high standards.”
“Like not dating their clients.”
She pushed her plate to the side, worry apparent in her expression.
“It’ll be okay, Elle. You did the right thing.” He understood her dilemma. “How else would we have met?” he uttered quietly.
Right or wrong, the moment they met, she had become more to him than a counselor. More than a sexy woman he was interested in bedding.
She was the one.
If he could get her past her hang-ups about her dad, about work, she’d see it, too.
“We could have run into each other at the grocery store.” She scowled and folded and refolded her napkin.
“How many men do you strike up a conversation with when you’re buying milk?”
A shadow crossed her face. “Not milk. Ice cream, maybe,” she muttered. “You promised me a date night and you mentioned dancing.”
She wanted to lighten the mood; he’d oblige. “Hell, yes. There’s even a live band playing tonight.”
“I haven’t seen a live band play in forever. Is all they play country music?”
“In Moore? Probably.”
She nibbled on her lip before confessing, “I don’t know how to dance…country.”
Putting his hand over his heart, he feigned shock. “It just so happens, I’m an excellent teacher.”
She cocked a brow at him. “Indeed?”
“But I have a fee.”
A blush crept up her face. “I can’t imagine what you charge.”
Elle wasn’t getting off that easy, literally or figuratively. “I’d like to show you around our operation.”
She mulled it over, like paying with sex would’ve been a better option. “Don’t you have your Grandma Agnes visit tomorrow?”
“We can go out in the morning and I’ll bring you back to town when I go see Gram. I planned to bring her dinner so we’ll have more of the day for sightseeing.”
Her expression finally eased and she smiled. “Deal.”
***
Sunday morning, Elle held onto the oh-shit handle as the truck bumped along the road. Deliciously sore already, she didn’t want to add to it.
Their date night ruined her for upcoming dates. Spinning around the dance floor, at the mercy of where Dillon twirled her was the most she’d cut loose in…ever. An aphrodisiac to be in his arms, held close, moving their hips in time to the slower melodies. Her feet had hurt by the end of the night and she hadn’t cared one bit. When they had gotten back to her place, they bee-lined to her bedroom where her feet weren’t an issue.
Dancing and sex and Dillon. A lethal combination to her heart.
He swerved to miss a rough section in the already bumpy road.
“I can see why you need a pickup,” she commented.
“There’s been many times one of us has had to get pulled out. Only, the shit we get from the rescuing cousin is enough to keep us from being too careless the next time.”
“Don’t your tractors ever get stuck?”
“Yep. And it’s a pain in the ass.”
“How do you pull them out?”
He grinned. “Get a bigger truck.” He turned off the narrow road that was actually only two dirt tracks in the grass onto an approach that stopped before a wire fence. “I’m actually showing you the cattle first. Nothing like a few furry calves to soften a woman’s heart.”
She peered out the window. “This might be a stupid question then. Where are the cows?”
He pointed toward a copse of trees. “Cash’s house sits over there. The cattle only use this pasture in the winter so they’ve been moved already, but I can show you more of our properties’ layout from this vantage point.”
It hadn’t been a long drive, but her muscles protested. She got out and stretched.
Dillon held a length of barbed wire up and pushed the rest of the fence down. “Ladies first. Watch out for cow patties.”
She crawled through the fence, counting it as a first for her. Dillon pushed all the wire down and stepped over it all. She wasn’t brave enough for that, nor did she have the long legs to pull it off.
He gestured to the stretch of land behind Cash’s property. “See how it dips down through the pasture. That makes it good for winter, along with the spring fed pond.” She spotted the glimmering blue he indicated. “Then Cash doesn’t need to haul hay so far to feed them.”
“How do you move them?”
“Old-fashioned cattle drive, honey,” he drawled in a Southern accent. “We all help with moving, surround the herd on horseback and steer them where we want them to go.”
“That sounds so cool.” And smokin’ hot.
His lopsided grin reflected how much he enjoyed it. “It’s one of my favorite times of the year. I love riding horses. Plan to get a couple next year, but I have to fix the fence around the pasture behind my house.”
“I thought that was all farmland.”
“Much of it is. There’s several acres fenced off where we had horses growing up.”
A shout caught their attention. A guy on horseback rode their way.
“Cash?” she guessed.
Dillon’s mouth flattened. He curtly waved at the rider. “I’ll show you the rest before he gets here.” He wrapped an arm around her and turned them. Another cluster of trees sat in the distance with farmland as far as the eye could see. “Aaron works these sections.”
The rounded tops of silver grain bins poked above the trees in the direction he pointed.
“I bet it’s gorgeous in the summer.” Hints of green along the land teased the eye. She imagined the beauty shone when trees leafed out and the pastures bloomed with wildflowers.
“Late summer is even better. Wheat fields are golden and sunflowers face the sun. A couple local photographers call every year to find out where the best sunflower shots are. We let them come out, don’t charge them anything.”
“Do you get deals when you have portraits done?”
His eyebrows shot up. “I haven’t had a formal picture taken since my senior year of high school. And that one they take at the start of basic training, but my freshly shaved head ruined that experience.”
Chuckling, she turned toward a horse’s chuff. Cash had arrived and, wow. Like Dillon and Brock, he was quite attractive, but the easy smile and casual attitude made him approachable. And she bet a lot of ladies approached him.
A navy-blue baseball cap with the logo of the Walker Five business complemented blue eyes a shade lighter than Dillon’s. He wore a gray sweatshirt and worn jeans with boots similar to Dillon’s—not quite work boots, but not cowboy boots.
Cash swung down from the horse who was interested in nibbling the new growth. This close together, the resemblance between the cousins was astounding; they could be mistaken for brothers.
“I was checking on the calves and noticed you driving up.”
“Everything okay?” Dillon scratched the neck and ears of Cash’s horse, more amiable to the creature than to his cousin.
“We have a heifer who’s carryi
ng late. She should be popping it out any day. Call me relieved she decided the snowstorm wasn’t the time to calve.”
Elle attempted to follow the conversation. Dillon elaborated. “A heifer is a first-time mom. She’s overdue, and since she’s never birthed before, she requires closer monitoring. There can be complications or she may even reject the calf.”
She faced Cash. “So you’re like a bovine midwife?”
Cash’s blue eyes shot wide and Dillon barked out a laugh. The horse lifted her head, but lost interest and went back to nuzzling through the grass.
Feeling foolish, she hoped Cash wasn’t insulted by the comparison.
Dillon rescued her again. “Yes, Elle, Cash is our resident midwife. He knows more about birthing calves than anyone in the county.”
Cash reached out a hand to shake Elle’s. “I should be humble and deny it, but producing cattle is my career. It’s my job to be good. Nice to meet you, Elle.”
As attractive as he was, she felt no chemistry, no spark, when his hand touched hers. Likewise for him, if she read him right. Cash could have woman issues, but trying to steal his cousin’s girl wasn’t one of them.
From Dillon’s proprietary hand on the small of her back, he was taking precautions.
“Is there room in your schedule for riding a horse next weekend?” Dillon asked.
A couple of seconds ticked by before she realized he was asking her. “Me? Oh. I’ve never…” The mellow mare snuffing and swiping her tail seemed harmless enough. Elle had always wanted to ride a horse. “Would it be okay?”
“Absolutely.” He addressed Cash. “Mandrell would be a good one for Elle, don’t ya think?”
“Oh yeah. She’s older, doesn’t spook easy. A good horse for teaching.”
Elle eyed the coarse hair rippling in front of her. Tentatively, she stretched out a hand to gently pet down the long, graceful neck. “Is this Mandrell?”
“This is the number one female in my life, Patsy Cline.” Cash’s expression turned rueful as he scratched her ears and under her halter. “Once you get a saddle on her, she’s about as compliant as Mandrell. It’s the five minutes before that makes life interesting.”
Getting braver, Elle stroked her face. Patsy Cline raised her head, the munching of grass getting ground between large teeth flexed the muscles under Elle’s hand. “Do you only have mares?”
“Mares and geldings,” Dillon answered. “Travis has a stallion, but with their sometimes aggressive temperament, we have to keep them away from the geldings. Unless we want a foal, he can’t be pastured with the mares, either.”
It was a whole different life they lived out here in the country. “Geldings are…?”
“Neutered, often calmer, but not always.”
Cash leaned with one hand resting on the saddle, the other on his hip. “Let me know who you’re riding next weekend Dillon and I’ll get them in the barn. Tack’s in the same place and ready to go.”
“Appreciate it.”
Farm talk and cow updates passed between the two of them. Elle listened, fascinated. This was a business. They were relatives, but they passed along information rapidly and succinctly like she and her coworkers did during their weekly meetings.
Dillon loosened up the longer he was around Cash. It was obvious they’d been close once. It could happen again if they talked and repaired their friendship before it tore apart any more of their lives.
“Any news on who stole your truck yet?” Cash’s question darkened the mood.
“None. The storm put all of that on hold. Anyone been poking around your place?”
Cash shook his head. “We’ll have to discover who it is to figure out why they targeted you. Or vice versa.”
“Brock thought someone was checking out his place earlier this week.”
That was the first Elle had heard about it. If the same person had wrecked Dillon’s truck, the behavior was almost guaranteed to escalate. What would happen next?
Cash toed his boot into the ground. “No shit? But no damage done?”
Dillon shook his head. “I mean to grab some estimates for equipping our property with security cameras and bring them to our next meeting.”
Blowing out a breath, Cash shook his head, eyes stormy. “Won’t be cheap. But if it’s not this, it’ll be something else. I agree, it’s something we could use.” With little effort, Cash swung up onto Patsy Cline. The creak of leather from the saddle wasn’t enough to distract Patsy from her snack. “She loves to eat. A girl after my own heart. I’ll let you two get back to the tour.”
Regret etched into Dillon’s features as he watched Cash ride off. His emotions were plain to decipher. He missed his best friend, but he was still too angry with him to open a line of conversation that didn’t pertain to business.
“You two must’ve raised some serious hell when you were younger.” She winced at her horrible attempt to lighten the mood.
Dillon flashed her an easy smile and wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her to the fence line. “We were good at not getting caught. Next stop is the small lake we fish at, then back to my place for lunch.”
The way his voice dropped an octave suggested she would get more than food. And it accomplished his goal of switching topics. She leaned into him, allowing him the distraction. It was a beautiful day; she didn’t want it to change.
Chapter Nineteen
Elle had a free hour before lunch and used it to catch up on some notes and scan her afternoon appointments. It was only Wednesday, but it felt like three weeks should have passed.
Her first riding lesson was Saturday and she anticipated it like a five-year-old did Christmas. A real horse. Don’t all little girls dream of riding a horse? With her very own cowboy—kind of. He was hotter than any cowboy she’d ever seen.
A knock caught her attention. “Come in.”
Her boss entered, closing the door behind him. His expression serious. Dread settled over her.
“Elle, it was nice to see you out the other night.”
“Yes, it was great seeing you, too.” She recognized where the conversation was going.
“As you may have heard, the Walker boys are well known in town.” Mr. Torkelson drew a deep breath. “So you understand when I remembered seeing Dillon’s name on some insurance paperwork a few weeks ago, I…checked to see who his counselor was.”
I did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. Maybe if she kept chanting those words, she’d believe them. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you earlier. We had two sessions together, and when it was clear he was interested in me, I informed him I could no longer be his counselor. We didn’t start seeing each other until weeks later.” Barely two weeks.
He gave her a disappointed look. “He hasn’t been back since.”
“I’ve been encouraging him,” she said quietly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. She clenched her hands on her lap, one thumb rubbing frantic circles on the other hand.
“Elle… You understand it’s against company policy to see our clients personally.”
“I understand. It’s why I ended our sessions.” Her voice remained steady. If she didn’t sound guilty, he wouldn’t think she violated company rules.
From his troubled expression, she wasn’t in the clear yet. “How did you know when things were moving to a different level? Did you see him outside of work?”
She shook her head, maybe a little too hard. “After the first session. I gave him my recommendations for who to transfer to, but he was adamant that he wasn’t going to see anyone else. Very insistent that he didn’t need to be here in the first place.”
“Then how did you two start dating?”
“His grandma is in the nursing home where my father was admitted. He was there visiting his grandma, we got to talking…” It was all she could do to keep her voice from wavering. “And that’s all it was for a while, but eventually…”
God, what else could she say? It all sounded incriminating.
As he consider
ed her story, she planted her hands on her desk so as not to wring them.
“I don’t like it, Elle. You’re new here. For this to happen so quickly after you were hired…” He blew out a gusty sigh. “It’s a small town, these things happen. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but,” he pinned her with a hard stare, “it’ll prolong your probationary period. I’m going to extend it another six months.”
Her heart sank. No raise. But she still had her job.
She forced a smile. “Of course, Mr. Torkelson. I’m sorry I didn’t approach you earlier when I suspected it might be a problem.”
He left her office. Elle blinked back the tears welling in her eyes. She’d finally relaxed and started enjoying her time with Dillon, forgetting all the reasons why seeing him was a bad idea.
One had been the threat to her employment, and she’d faced Mr. Torkelson. Two was the alcohol. Except for the beer in Dillon’s fridge, she hadn’t seen the drinking problem his family was worried about. If she had, she’d have ended things by now. The delay of a raise—well, things were tight, but she was making ends meet.
Vacillating between dating him or not had to stop. He’d been more than patient, it was her turn to go out on a limb.
***
“Elle, meet Mandrell. She’s a Paint who’s been with our family for years.”
Dillon led the mare by the halter to Elle. Her expression—pure awe and elation—was worth the sleepless night after not relaxing with a few beers before bed. The nightmares liked to hit when they were the most inconvenient and he’d refrained from drinking because of his date with Elle.
“She’s gorgeous. Why do you call her a paint?” She spread her fingers out on the horse’s neck, building her strokes until she was certain Mandrell accepted her.
“It’s in the coloring. Paints have a spotting pattern. See how her white and dark coat colors blend.”
He loosely tied the halter strap to the stall in the barn. Cash had brought the horses into the barn earlier in the morning so Dillon wouldn’t have to coax them out of the pasture. “I’ll be right back.” He handed Elle a grooming brush. “Brush her back down for me, please.”
Conflict of Interest (The Walker Five Book 1) Page 15