“No, it’s okay. You didn’t, I mean, I don’t mind.”
He gave her an embarrassed smile and stood, moved around to the front of her desk.
“Have a seat, Jethro, and tell me what’s on your mind.” She pulled her chair back in and tried to act professional, struggling to bring moisture into her mouth. Something about this rugged cowboy tied her up in knots. She liked to plan and plot her way through life, and whenever she was around Jethro Hansen, that flew out the window.
She could hardly blame him for Layla going into labor early, but she could blame him for being such a nice guy and stepping up for Tyson. She could blame him for dragging her along to the hospital, but it was hardly his fault she almost passed out when things got a bit delicate. It wasn’t his fault she felt it necessary to head up to the ranch to offer her apologies, but it was certainly his fault she struggled to get to sleep last night and the night before.
She’d tossed and turned, made up scenarios in her mind that involved the two of them, until well after two am. It wasn’t a wonder she had black lines under her eyes yesterday morning when she looked in the mirror. This morning wasn’t much better. And none of those scenarios made the slightest lick of sense. Her life was sorted. It didn’t involve an affair with a cowboy, no matter how much she tried to organize it that way, nor did it involve giving her heart over to the little town slowly sucking her in with its quaint buildings, friendly attitudes, and down-to-earth, no-fuss ways.
Jethro leaned forward on the desk and grinned at her. Big mistake to not look away. Her eyes fixed on his lips and her stomach lurched, remembering where his mouth had been in her raunchy dreams. Dreams that had left her feeling more frustrated than she’d ever been before.
Sadie licked her lips. “Yes?”
“Well, I got to thinking when I was out yesterday bringing in the cows. And I know animals aren’t your thing, but since Layla said you’re as good at financing and getting great deals as she is, I wondered if I could ask you a favor.”
“Of course.” She picked up a pencil and pulled a notepad in front of her like a shield. “Ask away.”
“Well, it’s like this. Our old bull might be a bit past it, if you know what I mean.”
He gave her a sheepish grin that did nothing to push the lustful dreams to the back of her mind.
“Out of all the cows we run, I doubt more’n twenty of them are in calf. That’s not a very profitable way to run a herd.”
She cleared her throat. “I can understand that. So, where do I come in, exactly?”
“I know it’s asking a lot, but I wondered if you could ask your boss to put in a good word for me with one of the Watsons. Both Chance and Tyson run cattle in a big way, and Sheriff Watson has a small herd. Maybe one of them would have a young bull they wouldn’t mind me buying.”
“Okay.” She tapped her pencil on the notepad. “I’m not sure I understand. Why can’t you ask them yourself? Surely the family feud isn’t what’s holding you back? That was dealt with, wasn’t it, when Tyson came to thank you for helping Layla?”
He dipped his head a second before meeting her gaze again. “Yeah, that’s not it. As you probably know, I’m kinda strapped for cash. I was hoping that you could help score me a great deal, knock down the price. I can’t for the life of me bargain to save myself. Not in my DNA apparently.” He winked. “If you’re half as good as Layla claims you are with everything else, you must be hell in the courtroom.”
Sadie burst out laughing. He was far too cute and convincing. “Yes, I guess I am.” She put down her pencil and leaned forward. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll call Tyson and ask after Layla and the baby and casually ask if he knows of a young bull that might suit you. If I say it right, I might be able to play on his conscience. He owes you, as far as I’m concerned, after laying his fist on you, and if he doesn’t have anything, I’ll encourage him to find one for you. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. Thanks.”
“No promises, mind you. I’ll do my best though.”
He stood. “It’s all I hoped for. Really appreciate it, Sadie.” He turned and walked to the door, grabbed the handle, and paused. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“Have dinner with me.”
*
Her mouth dropped open in a surprised O at his question. She blinked and stared at him.
Damn it. He shouldn’t have pushed his luck. She was happy to do lawyerly stuff, but this was personal and now he’d put her on the spot. Stupid idea asking her for a date. He wasn’t good enough for the likes of Sadie St. Martin. “Forget I said anything.” He opened the door, walked out, and slammed it behind him.
“You all set, Jethro?” Emily looked over her pointed, black sparkly encrusted frames as he strode out.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Once he walked outside, he shaded his eyes against the bright sun.
“Jethro, wait.” Sadie bolted out behind him and grabbed his arm.
“You don’t have to say anything. I shouldn’t have been so forward.” Jethro turned away, but she followed him, her fingers burning into his skin.
“No. You weren’t. And I do have to something to say. I’d love to have dinner with you.” She smiled up at him, a smile that reached her eyes and sent a warm thump to his gut.
“Really?”
She laughed. “Yes, really.” Sadie looked down the street before catching his eye again. “Really.”
“Um, okay, then. Well, I’ll call around and see if I can get a reservation somewhere. Any, um, preferences?” He mentally added up his bank balance, not liking the bottom line.
“You know what I’d really like?”
He shook his head.
“I’d like a big juicy hamburger. One with all the trimmings. I know they do them well at the hotel.”
Even at the pub restaurant, that was going to dig a dent into his bank account. He couldn’t say no. That would look petty after he asked her out. He had to find a way to make it work without coming across as a cheap skate. “I cook a pretty mean burger. Ah, would you consider that for something different? We can go to Miracle Lake and grill some burgers by the water.”
She frowned, and a moment of panic hit him. He was being too frugal, but he couldn’t help it. Would it be the issue that ruined his first date before he got the chance to take her out?
Sadie chewed her bottom lip and glanced down. It took a moment before she answered. “I’d like to go on a picnic. I hardly ever did that in Denver, and there’re so many pretty places in Marietta I haven’t seen yet. Would you mind if we did that instead of going to a restaurant? I don’t want to upset your plans. You were the one to ask me out, after all.”
“No, I don’t mind so long as you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Of course I am. And if you let me, I can put together a basket. You have the truck and probably know all the best spots. Fair deal?”
How could he refuse her? “I’ll still do the burgers though. And I have picnic rug I can bring too. How about tomorrow afternoon? You don’t work Saturdays, and I can be done at the ranch by lunchtime.” A guy had to take a stand and follow through.
She put her hand through his arm and leaned in closer, sending his heart racing. “Sounds wonderful. I’m staying at the cottage Layla used to rent. You know the one?”
It took all of his will to answer with a clear voice. Something about this woman sent him into a tizzy. “Sure. About one o’clock?”
“I’ll look forward to it. And, Jethro, I’ll try and have an answer about your bull by then too.”
Jethro nodded and smiled again before walking back to his truck with his head held high. She was going on a date with him. Who would’ve thought? He drove back to the ranch with a big stupid grin on his face. Sadie St. Martin was going on a date with him. Him! Jethro Hansen, the poor boy who barely scraped a living out of the ranch. Just went to show that a person couldn’t be judged worthy by their circumstances.
By the time he
drove over the cattle grid, his elation had plummeted. Who the heck was he kidding? He had nothing to offer her. At least nothing like she was used to. She came from money and privilege, even smelled expensive. Making out that a picnic was a good replacement for a restaurant meal was stupid and made him feel cheap, but if he wanted to date her, he had to work with what he could afford.
The hints of perfume clung to his nose after she moved away. The delicate, lingering floral scents that reminded him once again of what he’d been missing. Unlike the perfume from his other dates, which haunted him the next day, a scent mixed with remorse because he overdrank or got into a bar fight and let them down. This was more subtle, which, to him, meant expensive.
He hadn’t really gotten to know any woman well, apart from his mother. His grandpa kept to himself, his wife long since dead, so female companionship was in short supply. Layla had been the first woman he’d really had much to do with until Sadie had come along. Pickups in bars didn’t count.
He pulled up at the barn, got out of his truck, and slammed the door harder than he meant to.
“What’s got your pants in a knot?” Nate leaned over the rail and stared at him, a scowl on his face.
“Nothin’.” Jethro pulled out the roll of wire he’d gone in to town to pick up, looped it over his shoulder, and walked into the shed.
Nate jumped the rail and followed him, nudging Jethro with his shoulder. “Tell me.”
Jethro pushed him away. “I said nothing. Now leave me the hell alone.”
“It’s a girl, ain’t it? Crease was right. You’re falling for that woman you told us about. The lawyer one.”
“Mind your own business.” He searched the messy shelf for a pair of wire cutters and leather gloves to add to his saddle pack.
“Come on. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Fine. But if you want to know about my life, you need to come and help me fix fences.”
“May as well. Bored sitting here looking at myself anyways.” Nate shuffled his feet. “I was gonna ask if you needed any help.”
Jethro paused and looked at his brother. “What the heck’s going on with you two? Suddenly you want to help out. Why?”
Nate shuffled his feet some more, shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. Guess we’re getting sick of wasting our lives. Seeing you turning your life around kinda makes us feel like we could be better if we tried.”
A warm feeling of pride pushed away the doubt over his date with Sadie. “Grandpa would be smiling if he could hear you talking now.”
Nate jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Oh, well, can’t be a drunken fool forever. Imagine me being fifty and still picking fights at the bar. Not a good look. Best I get myself back into the routine of working and then start looking for someone who can afford to pay me to do the job.”
“Sounds good, and I appreciate you stepping up. Now grab some tools and let’s go sort out these fences.”
“And you can tell me all about your lady friend and why you’re so pissed off.”
Chapter Seven
“Least you could do is polish your boots and iron that shirt. Look like you just fell out of bed.” Crease frowned as he inspected Jethro’s outfit.
“Yes, Mom.” His sarcasm was lost on his youngest sibling.
“At least I don’t look like I’ve been dragged through a cactus bush backward.”
Nate snorted in laughter. “You might look pretty, but that don’t help you none with the ladies. From my understanding, you’re as pure as the day you were born.” He ducked a flying fist, and Jethro pushed between the two of them.
“Enough.”
Crease brushed him off. “At least I’m cute.”
“Gee, and that’s worked well for you. Don’t see the ladies lining up to take advantage of your cuteness.”
“Shut up. Better that than the reputation you have in town. Sleeping with anyone who’ll have you.” Crease lifted his finger and flipped him the bird before turning to Jethro. “Take off that shirt and give it to me. You go polish your damned boots while I try and make this look presentable.”
Jethro stripped off and handed over his shirt, then pulled off his boots. He grabbed the boot polish from the cupboard under the laundry sink and made himself comfortable on the front porch.
Nate followed him outside. “So you really like this lawyer?”
“Yeah, I do.” He dipped the brush in the polish and spread it over the dry leather of his boots. “Told you that yesterday, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, guess so.” He leaned on the porch railing and watched. “How do you think she’d fit in here?”
“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” But the thought had crossed his mind, and he didn’t have an answer. He’d chewed it over last night, almost ready to call and cancel the picnic. He’d never be able to give her the life she had now. That was if the relationship went any further than friends. And he hoped to God it did. He was smitten with Sadie. Problem was, he couldn’t let her know that. Not yet anyway. Jethro didn’t want to scare her away.
When he’d finished polishing his boots to the first shine they’d had in ages, he pulled them on and went back inside, looking for his shirt. Crease stood with it in his hands, checking it from all angles.
“Looks great, thanks. No need to go overboard.” He reached out and grabbed it.
“You’re welcome. Least she won’t think you don’t care about your looks when you’re with her.”
He had a point. “Right. Look, I’m never going to be like the guys she probably dates in Denver, no matter how much we try to make me look good. So I’m not even going to compete. I’m gonna be me. It’s all I know.”
“Probably the wisest choice, considering.” Crease gave him a thoughtful gaze. “But you could always bolster your chances by doing something sweet like talking about poetry or, I don’t know, maybe world events. Last thing you need is her thinking you’re some uneducated cowboy who’s never had your nose in a book.”
Jethro blew out a breath and stared at him. “Crease, listen to me, ’cause I’m only gonna say this once. Just because you have the dubious honor of being named after our Mama’s favorite Regency hero don’t mean we’ve all suddenly been endowed with the ability to talk like Shakespeare. I don’t do poetry, I don’t read the newspaper if I can help it, and I barely have time to watch television.”
“I’m not saying that. Give me a chance here. All I’m trying to get across to you is this—if you can just prove to Miss St. James that we’re not a bunch of no-good cowboys, that you have some skills or credibility, you might have a better chance of getting to second base.”
Annoyance rose in his chest. “Second base. So this is all you think’s going on here? Me getting to second base?” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He just didn’t want to put it into words and sound needy.
“No, well, I don’t know, maybe.” Crease backed away.
“Sex has nothing to do with it. I like her, a lot. She’s warm and friendly, funny and cute. She’s everything I want in a woman, but I don’t think I’m the guy for her, so I’m going to go with the flow for now. Enjoy the time we get to spend with each other and when she realizes I’m not the right guy for the future, wish her well and enjoy the memories.”
Nate scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re admitting defeat before you start? Fuck that.”
Jethro closed his eyes and tried to grab at the little bit of common sense he had left when it came to his brothers. “Take a good long, hard look at yourselves, at me. What do you see?”
They both looked at each other and shared a silent communication.
“That’s right. Poor, mannerless cowboys. A fuck-all future to offer any girl, or at least a hard one with no promise of it ever getting better. How the heck am I gonna make headway with a woman like Sadie with this kind of proposition?” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m being realistic and taking what I can get while I can. Sooner or later, she’s gonna figure out I’m not p
ermanent material and move on. It makes sense, so I’ll enjoy her company while I can.”
Silence met his outburst. Then Crease said, “I still don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You work hard. You’ve looked after us for long enough when you should’ve kicked us in the ass outta here.”
Nate snorted. “He can’t kick us out. We own the ranch too.”
“I know that, knucklehead. Don’t mean he has to let us stay here if we’re not pulling our weight. Not like he even has to give us beer money, but he does.”
Nate pushed Crease in the chest, launching him back across the porch. “Stop calling me that.”
Jethro cursed and left them to it. They’d fought all their lives, and he couldn’t see anything changing anytime soon. He grabbed his keys from the nail hammered into the doorframe by the kitchen and headed for his truck. “Try not to kill each other. Better yet, if you’re gonna do that, do it outside so I don’t have to clean blood off the kitchen floor again.”
*
Sadie looked in the mirror, turned, peeked over her shoulder, and groaned. It was too much for a picnic. Last thing she wanted to do was make Jethro feel out of place because she rocked up looking like she’d just finished a photo shoot for Christian Dior’s spring fashion parade.
She had a pair of well-worn jeans in her wardrobe. Paired with a plain white T-shirt, maybe a scarf around her hair, some cute earrings and she’d be set, instead of this label designer playsuit that screamed money and the French Riviera. She stripped off and threw the offending suit at the back of the closet and pulled out the jeans. Once Sadie laced up her white sneakers, all she had to do was quiet her racing heart before he arrived.
The picnic basket sat ready on the table. She’d debated with herself all morning about what to take for lunch. Was he a quiche kind of guy, or would that be too prissy for him? Should she make big, hunky sandwiches with slabs of meat and cheese and pickles? In the end she’d gone with a mix of easy options. He was doing burgers, so a small selection of cheese and cold cuts along with some crusty bread rolls and a bag of peaches was restrained, even for her. But she figured going overboard would only scare Jethro away. It wasn’t that he didn’t have refined tastes like she was used to, but he didn’t have the funds to waste, and she was sensible enough, sensitive enough, to respect that. Her restaurant mention made her cringe. How stupid could she be? She knew better than anyone what his finances were like. The last thing Sadie wanted was for him to think she was showing off how well-heeled she was while he was struggling to hold everything together.
Cowboy to the Rescue Page 5