“What the hell are you doin’ here?” She glared at Wade, keeping her voice low.
“Now, Miss Scarlett. Is that any way to treat your dinner guest?”
“Stop callin’ me that.”
“Stop actin’ like that.”
“Mr. Dawson. Please come in. Carly, get out of the way, and let the man in.” Her daddy came toward them with a weird smile and outstretched hand.
Why was he so happy to see the foreman? Her daddy never invited anyone over unless they had money or something to offer him.
“Ma’am.” Wade tipped his hat.
Carly noticed a slanted grin as he brushed past her. The mere touch of his clothes flamed her cheeks. Jesus… am I having hot flashes? She headed straight for the kitchen with her head angled toward the floor, avoiding all eye contact. She grabbed the sink with one hand and her stomach with the other. Was she sick? No, she had been fine earlier. It was Mr. Wade Dawson. He was making her feel…weird. She should’ve told him off and been done with it. That’s what this feeling was―pent up anger. She just needed to release it, and she’d be fine. She twitched her head toward her daddy’s voice. Shit, the drinks. Smoothing down her clothes, she straightened her spine and physically shook herself before entering the room.
Passing the men, she went to the bar by the fireplace and poured her daddy a whiskey. She kept her back to them when she spoke. “What can I get you to drink, Mr. Dawson?”
“I’ll have a beer, if you have it.”
The depth of his voice heated the room, and she worried the ice would melt. She dropped a couple of cubes in a glass and popped open Wade’s beer. Carly turned with the tray and walked to the couch where the men sat. She offered them their drinks, setting the tray on the table in front of them. Why was her daddy staring at her like that? She reached for the third drink and brought it to her lips.
“Carly West!” She stiffened from her daddy’s tone, and then realized her mistake.
“Sorry, Daddy. I was just teasin’.”
“Put the drink down, and go get dinner ready.”
She nodded, and caught Wade’s smile from the corner of her eye as she walked past him. The thought of him laughing at her made her furious, but her temper rose even more when her daddy went on to chastise her, as he always did. When she entered the kitchen, she let out a breath she didn’t know she held. She was nervous but didn’t understand why and had never felt anxious enough to take a sip of alcohol in front of her daddy. Maybe she needed to eat something.
She put lettuce in the strainer and started preparing the other vegetables for a salad, which was mainly for her, because she had yet to see a man eat a salad. She washed a carrot she had plucked from the ground this morning, placed it on top of the lettuce, and grabbed another one. Her movements halted.
The air suddenly charged, which quickened her pulse and it beat in her throat. The carrot slipped from her hand and dropped into the sink, splashing water on to her top. She peeked through her lashes to confirm her suspicion. Wade’s presence filled the room with an overpowering and confident magnetism. He placed the drink tray on the counter in front of her.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, you look… flustered.”
“What do you care?”
He studied her for a moment. “Your dad went to the bathroom.”
“So… you want me to stable him too or just put him to pasture?”
Wade tried to hide a laugh, but she saw his chest move.
“I thought I’d bring you the tray.” He inclined his head toward the drinks, before he disappeared through the kitchen archway. Despite the instant empty feeling he left behind, she couldn’t refrain from staring at the vacant spot as if his presence remained.
Carly grabbed his empty beer bottle. Her hand warmed as if she touched him and not the cold glass. Her eyes flicked over to her full drink still sitting where she’d left it. She looked back over her shoulder. Was he motioning to her glass? Did he bring it to her on purpose? She dropped the bottle in the trash then wrapped her hand around the tumbler. Feeling the condensation on her skin, she gripped the liquor tighter and placed it to her lips. She threw her head back, taking it in one gulp and quickly washed the evidence of her indiscretion, setting it inside the drainer. Even though her secret was safe, she jumped when her daddy yelled from the other room.
Wade followed Mr. West to the table. The setting was nice, too fancy for his taste, but to each their own. Mr. West motioned to the chair at the opposite end of the table where Carly stood. Wade placed his hand on the chair’s back, pulling it out as he looked at Carly. “Ma’am.”
She stared at him with a look of confusion.
“Jesus, Carly. What the hell has gotten into you today? Sit!”
She jumped. “Sorry, Daddy.” Pulling out the chair next to Wade at the side of the table, she sat.
Wade arched a brow as he sat in the chair he’d offered her. “You could have sat here.”
Her eyes widened, and she choked on the water she’d gulped. Wade’s attention went to Mr. West’s laugh, and Carly made a sound in her throat.
“Men sit at the head of the table, Mr. Dawson,” Carly said, but didn’t look at him.
Wade chuckled. “Unless you’re married, I would imagine.”
“Always… Mr. Dawson.”
He met her father’s impassive stare.
Wade stretched his neck and tried to work out the uncomfortable kinks that had formed. He imagined that kind of attitude was why he didn’t see a Mrs. West. This place was too much. Talk about being outdated. He glanced at Carly, who kept her eyes fixed to her lap. Mr. West snapped his fingers. Carly jumped, and like a mechanical robot, she started serving them dinner. She looked as though she had a few uncomfortable kinks of her own.
Thirty minutes passed, and Wade counted at least a dozen times Mr. West corrected Carly―everything down to the way she held her fork. He rode the damn girl harder than a cowboy breaking in a new horse did. Wade kept quiet, ate quickly, and tried to work out an escape plan in his head. Levi was definitely in for an ass-kickin’.
Carly cleared her throat next to him, and Wade swallowed hard, feeling nervous for her. Why, he didn’t know.
“Daddy, I wanted to talk to you about plantin’ the back field.” She sat tall when she spoke, a confident gleam he hadn’t seen yet tonight shined bright in her eyes.
“Men’s work, Carly.”
“But, Daddy… I’ve been lookin’ at the soil.”
“Enough!” He slammed his fist on the table. “I’m tired of the same battle with you, young lady. Go to your room.”
Wade stood abruptly along with Carly. He reached for her chair, but she was making a fast getaway toward the stairs. If everyone bossed her around like this, it was no wonder the girl was bitchy. He turned his gaze toward Mr. West. “Maybe I should be going.” A domestic argument seemed like a good reason for an escape.
“Nonsense. Sit.”
He remained standing and stared back at the man across the table.
“Please, Mr. Dawson.”
Wade kept his gaze tight and returned to his seat. “What did you want to see me for?” He pushed his plate back, appetite gone.
“It’s no secret your family has a great reputation as ranch foremen.”
“That’s why I’m here. My brother’s the one that likes to do seasonal work. I have enough of my own to worry about. Sorry he couldn’t follow through with his commitment.”
“Mr. Dawson, you’re here for more than the ranch.”
Wade settled back in his chair and met the man’s gaze. He wouldn’t let on he knew why he was here. Only a fool put all his cards on the table. He could usually read a man well, and what he was reading from Mr. West, he didn’t like. “And, that would be...?”
“I’m surprised your brother didn’t give you the details of the job.”
“Details can change, and we trust each other.”
“My d
aughter…” Mr. West averted his gaze and sipped his whiskey. “…is engaged.”
Wade rubbed his chest. Now, why did it feel like someone had flicked his heart? It was probably this place and its creep factor. “And?”
“You and your brother’s reputation as bounty hunters, is almost as good as your ranchin’ skills. That’s a double talent I desperately need right now.”
“You need someone hunted?” He watched the man closely as he pulled his gaze from his once more and leaned forward toward the middle of the table.
“Not so much hunted, as corralled and kept.”
“And that someone would be?”
“Carly. I need you to make sure she makes it down the aisle. Untouched.”
“Is she a flight risk?”
“I will not go into our personal details. Did you hear the untouched part?”
“I heard everything you said, Mr. West. As odd as the request may be.” Wade stood, and Mr. West’s gaze followed him up.
“Some of the former ranch hands and foremen have crossed the line and tried to touch my daughter, Mr. Dawson.”
“I can assure you, Mr. West, I have no intention or desire to touch your daughter.” Wade spoke louder than before and hoped his tone drove his point across. The request was insulting to begin with and solidified his dislike for this man.
“Very well. I’ll see you out.”
* * * *
Carly crossed her arms over her chest and stared out her window through slanted eyes. The conversation from the first floor had been deep mumbles and incoherent babbling, but that last part she heard loud and clear. Like she’d ever let him touch her. He was arrogant, abrasive, and… oh my.
She watched Wade from her bedroom window pass below her. A walk like that should be outlawed. He smoothly sat directly in her line of sight on the foreman’s porch. His porch. And damn if he didn’t look as if he’d been there for years. Long, muscular legs propped on the rail and crossed at the ankles. He leaned back in the rocker with his hands threaded, resting over his stomach. The way the weight of his arms pulled the fabric of his shirt tight, she’d bet her daddy’s best steer not one ounce of fat was on him.
Why was he staring at her house as if it was a roadside circus? She watched him reach in his pocket and take out a phone. A smile stretched across his lips and melted into a grin. She wondered what it would take to make him smile like that and who was making him smile? He was probably talking to his wife, although she didn’t see a ring. Yeah, she’d looked. Who wouldn’t? Maybe a girlfriend? Wait. Why the hell did she care? He’d called her Miss Scarlett, and tomorrow she’d show him just how bratty she could be.
Chapter 3
Procreation
Carly paused on the porch, inhaling the morning air. She loved the smell of the country in the morning and couldn’t imagine anything as peaceful. The air was still cool; the farm was waking up, and a rooster crowed in the distance. The feathered alarm clock was visiting from another farm because it had been awhile since they’d owned chickens. They were the first to go when her daddy had decided he wanted to thin out the farm. He said it was too much to handle. It had never made much sense to her, since the farm hands did all the work, not her daddy.
“Carly, I’ll be out of town for the day.” Her daddy passed her, walking down the wooden steps. He paused at the truck door. “Don’t forget you have guests comin’, and I expect you to be on your best behavior. You are a reflection on me, young lady, and I will not have my image tarnished with our church.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She sighed as he pulled away. Her beautiful morning ruined by wedding crap. She’d need more chairs, since her daddy had invited the hens over to yap about weddings and what men expect from their wives. She stepped off the porch and headed toward the stable. The folding chairs were over there somewhere, she just had to find them. She looked inside the barn as she came to its opening, and her blue eyes locked with hazel ones. Her steps slowed as his lips curled into a smile and he tipped his hat.
“Mornin’, Miss Scarlett.”
“Fuck off.” She kept walking. Having enough things on her mind, she didn’t need to deal with him too. Why did he get her so wound up? Most of the time, she didn’t have a problem tuning everyone out. There’d been dozens of foremen and farmhands passing through here, and not one of them had bothered her. She could feel this one under her skin.
“Such a purdy mouth on you. What a fine bride you’ll make.”
She marched into the storage pen inside the stable, grabbed the folding chairs in one arm, and extended her middle finger as she made her way past him once more.
“Your dad left you a note in the office. Told me to make sure you get it if you came out here.”
She placed the chairs against the column and walked toward the office. Although she didn’t look at him, she felt his eyes on her, and it made her skin hot. Grabbing the note from the mail divider, she turned, and leaned back against the desk. She glanced at Wade and regretted it. He stared back at her, relaxed against the office doorframe with all the confidence in the world. A cocky grin flashed white teeth, and she rolled her eyes, refocusing on the note.
“Dammit.”
“What?”
“My daddy is a stubborn ass man, that’s what.”
“Why? What’s the note say.”
“He wants me to order wheat to plant the back field.”
“And… what’s wrong with that?”
“Because the back field would produce corn better this year.”
“Why?”
“We’ve planted soybeans for the last two years, and the nitrogen in the soil is low. We need to rotate the crops to corn, but he won’t listen because everyone’s going green; eating more tofu and soy products. Soybean is on the rise, but the crop won’t have the proper nutrients, and the production will be down.”
Wade stared at her for a moment then pushed himself off the doorframe. “Okay. C’mon.”
“Fine. I guess you’re gonna tell me to get back in the kitchen like the rest of them.” Carly had had enough of this crap. She moved quickly, turning sideways to squeeze between Wade and the doorframe.
He grabbed her arm, stopping her escape. “No. I’m gonna tell you to get your ass in the truck and show me the back field.”
When those blue eyes blinked up at him, he loosened his grip. Shit. He released her arm quickly when he realized he was still holding it. And how long had he been staring?
“Did I hear you right?”
Suddenly feeling hot, he walked away from her. “Yep. Let’s go.” He took a deep breath when he reached the truck. Maybe he needed to eat breakfast or something. He pulled the driver’s door open, looking over before he climbed in and caught a smile that would give a sunrise a run for its money. “Alright, where we goin’, darlin’?” Darlin’? Where the hell did that come from? Jesus. Maybe he was getting sick or something.
They drove in silence except for quick directions on where to turn from Carly. He caught her glancing at him a couple of times as if she was waiting for him to stop the truck and tell her he was joking. Did anyone listen to this girl? She sure had seemed shocked when he told her to get in the truck. He shook his head. This was not his problem. Don’t get involved, he reminded himself as he put the truck in park and killed the engine.
They walked a couple of feet away from the Ford. Wade knelt, scooped up a handful of soil, and let it sift through his fingers back to the ground. Walking farther out, she trailed behind him. He watched her stop and inhale. A smile curled on her pretty, pink lips as she looked around. The tension faded from her face, and her shoulders lowered as if someone unknotted her rigid spine. He kicked clumps of dried up dirt with the toe of his boot. “Was the entire back field planted with soybeans?”
“Yes.”
“Have you explained to your dad why you think corn would be a better crop this year?”
“I don’t get that far.”
Wade recalled the way she’d tried to talk to him at dinner a
nd how he’d cut her off before she even got started. “Well, without testin’ the soil—”
“I’ve tested it.”
“You’ve tested the soil?” He smiled at her, but by the look in her eyes she was reading it as something other than admiration.
“Yes. I tested the soil.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Women can test soil.”
He held his hands out. “Whoa… now, hold on, Carly. That’s not what I meant.”
“Shit.”
“What now?”
“I’m gonna be late settin’ up for my guests.”
“Better get you back, then.” She turned away from him, heading toward the truck with quick strides. All the stress he had watched fade from her when she was standing in the middle of the open field returned with a vengeance. Her body looked as if it would snap in two if he touched her with a feather. Not his problem, he reminded himself repeatedly until he got her out of the truck.
* * * *
Carly refreshed her guests’ beverages before returning to the couch. She assumed this was what some would consider a bridal shower. She unwrapped a can opener, a blender, and oven mitts with a matching apron. She smiled politely, placed the gifts on the coffee table and sat back on the sofa, hands clasped together and placed on her lap. Posture straight. Mrs. Black caught her attention after she repeated herself. Her voice still sounded like a dull hum in the back of her mind, and she tried to pull herself back into the moment.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Black. What did you say?”
Giggly laughter filled the room.
“Get used to zoning out, dear, especially when he starts to need the Viagra.”
“Martha!” Mrs. Lewis swatted her friend’s arm and cupped her hand over her mouth. She blushed, looked around the room, and lowered her hand. “At least yours lasts more than two seconds thanks to the Viagra.” More giggles.
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