Prairie Heat (Cowboys of The Flint Hills #1)

by Tessa Layne

  Ever.

  Even if that woman was supposed to be marrying him.

  The cab door slammed, and she came around the front, pausing warily when her eyes met his. Even from this distance, he could see the worry lines that had etched themselves into her face over the last several days. Exhaustion seemed to pour off her body.

  Damn.

  How much of that stress was because of him? Because of the situation he’d created? If he was half a man he’d let her go right now and figure out some other way to get Warren to sell. But he wasn’t. There was too much of Jake in him. Even though that knowledge galled him, it helped him keep his life in perspective, and the women at arm’s length.

  Present company excepted. He couldn’t get enough of her. Hell, just seeing her now, her hair free from its usual tidy bun, he grew half hard. He stood, turning to the mini fridge to reach for a beer. The last thing she needed was to see him with a woody.

  He cracked the beer, and turned, offering it. “Come sit a spell. You look wiped.”

  She gave him a small smile, pushing up her glasses, and moved to join him on the heavy porch furniture. She was still wearing the blue ones. Interesting. He probably shouldn’t read too much into it, but it secretly pleased him she hadn’t switched back to the black frames.

  The late afternoon air lay heavy and still, pressing down on them. A sure sign of bad weather soon. If not tonight, then tomorrow. They’d already had three severe storms in the last week, one of which had dropped a small tornado that took out an old barn about six miles east of here.

  “Thanks.” She took a sip, then pressed the bottle to her head and leaned forward, balancing her elbows on her knees.

  Unable to resist, he reached out and draped his arm across her shoulder. She stiffened slightly at his touch, but didn’t shake him off. Deciding not to take offense, he massaged at the knot in her neck.

  She groaned and rolled her shoulder into his fingers.

  “Rough day?”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” She took another pull on her beer. “I met with Gary Anderson today and the director of the lab at K-State.”

  “Oh?” He stilled. He’d just been yanking her chain in Chicago.

  “Yeah. You were right when we talked with him. And I figured as long as I was in town…”

  Something warm and prideful bubbled up inside of him. That was a step forward – admitting he was right.

  She continued. “And with my luck these days, he’d find out I was in town and dissed him, and that would be a professional discourtesy.”

  He deflated a bit. So her motivation had nothing to do with him. “How’s your dad today?”

  She groaned and dipped her head. He continued to work the knots in her neck and shoulders.

  “Dad’s ornery under the best of circumstances. He’s just a bear now. He thinks he should be home already and hauling hay.”

  He laughed quietly and settled himself a bit closer. “So thoughts of our pending matrimony did nothing to soothe the savage beast?”

  She slid him the stink eye. Good to know she was still irritated about that.

  “Funny you should ask. He’s hell bent on us setting a date. And where’s my ring?” She flicked her left hand at him and glared. “As soon as he’s out of the hospital, you need to set things straight.”

  As soon as he had the title to his family property back, he’d be happy to. The only thing this arrangement had been good for so far was a pair of blue balls and a need for blood pressure medication.

  “Know what you need?” Besides a thorough fucking? He continued to massage the knot in her shoulder, working his thumb over the hardest part. She was wound tighter than a spool of baling wire, and equally dangerous.

  She shrugged, taking a sip of her beer and waiting for him to continue.

  “You need a ride.”

  Her eyes widened and she shot up. “What?”

  It should be illegal to have this much fun yanking her chain. “Get your mind out of the gutter, darlin’. I’ve already told you that’s your call. Come ride the fences with me this afternoon. I need to see if the storms have caused any damage.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks pinked, and her hand flew up to adjust her glasses. He swore she looked the tiniest bit disappointed. He drained his beer, tossing it into the growing pile of recycling at the edge of the porch.

  He stood and offered his hand, giving her yet another chance to reject him. She was skittish as an unbroke filly. And he’d learned over the last several days that over time and with patience on his part, the smallest gestures would be welcomed. First the hand at the door, then the hand holding. Mostly for effect, but she’d settled into it. Same with the little kisses he could get away with now in mixed company. And every now and then he’d caught her staring at him. She played her cards close. Who wouldn’t, living with a man like Warren? She’d learned from the best.

  She took his hand and stood, letting him lead her down the little hill to where the great stone barn stood. The hundred and twenty year old barn was a remnant of a bygone era, when limestone and timber were plenty. When neighbors helped neighbors build, and the designs were meant to last generations. It was one of the last barns of its kind in the Flint Hills. Sixteen feet of limestone, topped with a timber roof that looked like the underside of a ship. It had withstood generations of fierce Flint Hills weather.

  They’d both need a shower later with the humidity and heat so high. The visual of soaping her back made his balls ache. And unconsciously he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, sliding him a tiny smile.

  He paused at the large double doors that comprised the entrance to the barn and heaved the bolt across, opening the door. They stepped into the cool interior. Limestone was a great insulator, and one of the reasons his four-legged farm hands were always in top form. He never had to worry about them getting heat-stressed in the brutal summer conditions.

  “This way.” He took her hand again, pulling her along, and stopped in front of a roan quarter horse with a white star. “This is Blaze. I raised him from a foal.”

  Maddie reached out and offered her hand, letting him nuzzle her. Her smile lit up the barn like a Christmas tree. “Aww whad a sweetums you are…” She cooed as if she was talking to a baby.

  She turned to him, eyes bright. “Do you have any treats?”

  “Does Santa have reindeer?” He reached into a bucket just outside the stall and handed her a few.

  “Aww. You’re such a handsome boy.” She oohed and ahhed, and Blaze pricked his ears forward, clearly loving the attention. Aww hell. Blake’s heart melted a fraction at the interaction. He should have brought her here sooner. Of course she loved horses, she was a Hansen.

  He’d allowed himself to become jaded over the years. There hadn’t been a serious girlfriend since before the summer from hell. And the women he saw on the road thought ranching was a quaint activity. They weren’t interested in horses unless it was to pose in a selfie or show off an outfit. The last woman he’d seen gush over a horse was his sister, Emma. And that had been years.

  “Don’t let Blaze monopolize your time. Let me introduce you to your mount.” Anticipation at her reaction threaded through his gut. What would she think when she saw Iris? He brought her to the next stall.

  Inside stood a beautiful Palomino. Maddie gasped and turned, eyes wide and full of shock. “Is this…?” She trailed off.

  He nodded. “One of Hansen Stables finest. This lovely mare is named–”

  “Iris.” She finished.

  How did she know?

  She giggled nervously, shaking her head. “You’re not going to believe this, but I have her sister with me in Chicago. Daisy.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you don’t. You don’t raise horses.”

  How did she always manage to turn the conversation? This was supposed to be his surprise.

  “You might know cattle and bison, but you don’t know the first thing about
horses.”

  “I know plenty,” he sputtered. “I raised Blaze.”

  “That’s one horse. I grew up around Palominos. And, I happened to be present the day Iris and Daisy were born. Twin foals are highly unusual, surviving identical pairs a statistical miracle.” She scratched Iris’s nose and offered her treats from the bucket.

  “Of course you were.” He rolled his eyes, disappointment swelling.

  She studied him intently. “You’re upset about this. Why?”

  Maybe because he thought she’d see he respected her family. Maybe because he’d thought it would make her feel the tiniest bit at home on his ranch. Maybe because for an insane second, he’d thought it would be nice to surprise her.

  He needed to rip a page from her book and keep his emotions under wrap. He needed to quit thinking around her. Jamming his thoughts down, he ignored her question, and opened the stall door, stepping in to snap a leader line on her halter.

  “Let’s get these beauts saddled up.” He slid a sideways glance her way. “I assume you know how to do that?”

  She pursed her lips and guilt quickly settled in his ribs. He didn’t need to be an ass because she’d stolen his thunder.

  “I can manage.” She cocked her head, the glint in her eye clueing him into her level of ire. “Unless you prefer to ride bareback?”

  Not with his balls in the condition they were. “No thanks. Gotta protect the family jewels.”

  “Just what I thought.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She sauntered past him, hips swaying seductively as she headed toward the tack room. She peeked back over her shoulder, a naughty twinkle in her eye. “Manly to a point, but when the chips are down…” She raised her eyebrows saucily, then turned and kept walking.

  Damn her for baiting him that way. Little vixen with the saucy mouth begging to be kissed. He would not let her stand here, in his barn, and question his manhood. Not when his balls were ready to explode in frustration.

  He followed her into the tack room and handed her a bridle. “You know what your problem is?”

  She rolled her eyes as she passed. “Let me guess, you’re going to enlighten me.”

  “You’ve never been with a real man. Those scientists you spend your time with don’t know the first thing about fighting or taking care of women.” He followed her back down the aisle.

  “So real men are Neanderthals?” She narrowed her eyes at him then went back to adjusting Iris’s bridle.

  “No. We’re gentlemen. But we’re stronger. Firmer. We keep things going.” He opened the stall and walked Blaze down to outside the tack room.

  She made a growly sound in the back of her throat as she followed suit. A sound that sent electricity straight to his cock. He’d love to hear it in the throes of ecstasy, not just when he’d irritated her to the breaking point.

  “What you’re saying is that the town buckle bunnies want nothing more than a caveman who fights and bosses them around? In and out of bed?”

  “We’re cowboys not cavemen.”

  She followed him down the aisle. “Are you yanking my chain, or do you seriously believe this trash you’re spewing?”

  Both. He shrugged and grinned. He handed her a saddle pad and placed his on Blaze. Then tilted his chin toward the saddle she’d need.

  Her voice rose. “What about brains? What about friendship? What about respect? What about love?” She sputtered, giving the cinch a firm yank.

  “You have no room in your life for romantic love. Isn’t that what you claimed the other night…Madame Scientist?”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut, glaring at him as she untied Iris.

  Ha.

  Let her stew on that for a minute. He’d settle for the sparring, but it wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.

  He tucked some tools and two pairs of gloves into the saddlebag and led Blaze out of the barn with just a little more swagger than was polite. He twisted the reins over the corral fence and went back to shut the huge oak doors after Maddie.

  He called after her. “You can’t have it both ways.” She glared at him as she walked Iris over to join Blaze. “Don’t be a sore loser, Maddie.”

  “Are we going to ride or stand here and argue?”

  “You can change the subject, but this conversation isn’t over.”

  He adjusted the cinch a final time and mounted up. Maddie followed suit. Swinging Blaze around, he headed out for the main north-south fence line. If there was damage from the high winds, this is where they’d see it first.

  They rode up the short rise to the west of the Big House then turned north along the barbed wire. Even on the hill there was barely a breeze, as if the prairie was holding its breath waiting for a shift.

  He was waiting for a shift. How long would they continue this dance? How long before she finally admitted he was right? That feelings mattered? He couldn’t let this go. Didn’t want to. He was going to get to the bottom of this with her. One way or another.

  He slowed Blaze, waiting for Maddie to catch up. His gut tightened at the sight of her. She rode with the ease of someone who’d been on horseback before she could walk. In the late afternoon sun, the tension evaporated from her face.

  Time to take the bull by the horns. “Have you ever been in love?”

  The anguish that flashed on her face as she registered his question spoke volumes. So she had been in love. She averted her eyes, studying the horizon.

  They rode on, the silence punctuated by an occasional meadowlark.

  When she finally glanced sideways, her cool professional mask was firmly back in place. “I don’t believe in love.”

  “You did.”

  The only acknowledgement she gave that he’d guessed right was the way her hand suddenly clenched the reins. Anger, hot and possessive, toward this unknown male who’d broken her to pieces, shot through him. The kind of anger so hot he wouldn’t hesitate to pound his face to a pulp.

  “Who was he?” He ground out.

  Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “I swear, I will beat him.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile curved her lips. “See? Neanderthal.”

  “Call it defending your honor.”

  “My honor doesn’t need defending.”

  “Like hell it doesn’t,” he growled.

  “Look. It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.”

  “What happened?”

  She sighed, giving him an exasperated look. “Nothing but a teenaged misunderstanding and a painful lesson learned.”

  “Maybe he was just an asshole and not worth a second thought.”

  Her eyes were pools of deep sadness. So deep his soul ached for her. If the universe ever presented him with an opportunity to deliver karmic justice with his fist, he would not hesitate.

  “Maybe I needed to learn the only thing you get from love is hurt.”

  His gut twisted. Given his own history with love, part of him agreed. Yet the bigger part of him knew there was more. “Love is what separates us from the animals and the robots, sweetheart.”

  That earned him a small smile.

  “Logic keeps you safe. It keeps you orderly. Ask any drunk in a bar fight. It wasn’t logic that cocked his fist.”

  “So you’re saying a world with no emotion would be better?”

  “It would be simpler… more predictable.”

  “And we might as well be wolves hunting bison. What about compassion? What about forgiveness? Isn’t that love?”

  She hesitated, worrying her lip. “It’s not the same.”

  “Bullshit. You can’t have it both ways.” Frustration from the past several days roiled in his gut. There had to be a way to break through the fortress she’d erected around herself. Goddammit. He clenched his jaw as he spotted a post that needed righting.

  He spurred Blaze on ahead and swung off when he reached the downed post, still hot under the collar.

  She pulled alongside.<
br />
  He tossed a pair of gloves to her.

  “Here,” he bit out. “I need your help.”

  The barbed wire had captured the branches of a small oak. Enough that it had acted like a sail in the winds, and pulled the post out.

  “Move the branches off the wire, and set them down on this side of the fence,” he barked, not feeling very patient.

  She moved without comment.

  He grabbed the portable shovel from the saddle bag and began digging. The hole would need to be reset. He’d have to send Brodie and Ben out with the post hole digger tomorrow, but this would do for now.

  His spade hit rock almost immediately. That was the problem. The hole had been too shallow.

  “Goddammit,” he bellowed.

  “Can I help?”

  “No.” He glared at her, emotions spilling over. “You’re like that Goddamned limestone, Maddie. Immovable.” He grunted, trying to use the shovel as a lever to move the rock. “You think you have your life all planned out. Predictable and compartmentalized. But it doesn’t work that way. Life requires you to feel, dammit.”

  He drove the shovel into the ground. “You think you don’t need anyone, and by God, maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re the one exception in the whole human race who gets to go through life, completely…” he shoved it in again.

  “Independently.” He jammed his foot down.

  “Without.” He heaved back.

  “Needing.” He tossed the dirt.

  “Anything.” He shoved in the shovel, pausing to glare at her.

  Her eyes were wide and sorrowful.

  “The rest of us mortals? We need people.” He jammed his foot down again. “It may hurt. It may suck, occasionally. But that’s life, dammit.”

  He groaned loudly, heaving back. This fucking rock wouldn’t budge.

  “You need a longer lever and a better fulcrum.”

  He glared at her, letting her feel the full weight of his anger.

  “If I use a fulcrum, I will break the shovel. I need a crowbar. Any other words of brilliance, Madame Scientist?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.