by Amy Woods
He was wrestling with the drawers in a broken-down dresser when the warbler tapped on the door.
“It’s open.”
The woman with the big blue eyes, Lila, peered inside. “It’s always open, but you can have a lock on it if you want.”
“I don’t use locks. You knock, I’ll answer.” Gladly. No man in his right mind would lock her out. She was a pretty woman trying to pass for plain, and it wasn’t happening. The world owed women like her a clue. She’d get noticed no matter what. “You need any help?”
She pushed open the door with the edge of a straw laundry basket. “I brought you some bedding. I have a feeling you won’t see Brad before suppertime, and I don’t know what’s here.”
“Somebody’s clothes. If anyone comes looking, they’re in that box on the bench outside the door.” He nodded toward the floor in front of the dresser, where he’d tossed the sheets he’d stripped off the beds. “I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do with those.”
“I’ll take care of them.” She peeked into the bathroom. Her hair was clipped up on the back of her head in a jaunty ponytail. “I guess I could spare you some towels. Doesn’t look like the last guy...” She turned and handed him the neatly folded bedding. It smelled like early morning. “I still can’t find my dog,” she said quietly as he set the laundry on the bed.
“I didn’t see anything on the highway.”
“You weren’t really looking.”
“You want me to? I’ve got nothing else to do. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve been on the payroll for about an hour now.”
“He’s pretty old. Doesn’t usually go far from the house.”
“You probably don’t want your kids to find him first. How old are they?”
“My kids?” She gave him a funny look, as if maybe he’d been reading her mail. And then the light went on. “Oh, the play yard. I do some day care. Other people’s kids.”
“Maybe other people’s kids took your dog.”
“The kids aren’t here on the weekend. Bingo. Little black terrier. If you see him...” She wagged her finger and chirped, “Bingo is his name-o.”
“Ain’t much of a singer, but I’m a hell of a whistler.” He reproduced her warble perfectly. “Like that?”
“He won’t be able to tell us apart.” She smiled. “I’m not a hell of a whistler.”
He smiled back. “You’re a singer. You can have my whistle for a song. I’ll drive out to the highway and walk the ditches. How’s that?”
“As you said, you’re on the payroll, but you don’t work for me.” She started for the open door, did an about-face on the threshold and came back. “But it’s a generous offer, and I’ll take you up on it. In return I’ll—” she grabbed the laundry basket by one handle and lifted her shoulder “—owe you one.”
“Two.” He presented as many fingers. “If one good turn deserves another, I’ll take two towels. If you’re sure you can spare them.”
“I’ll even throw in a washcloth.”
* * *
He came back empty-handed and genuinely relieved. He liked dogs and didn’t want to see her lose hers. He was good at turning on the charm for people no matter what he was feeling, but there was no pretense when it came to dogs. He’d lived with them, worked with them, learned to respect them without exception. Lila Flynn was a dog person. He could be himself with her on that score.
Plus, she’d brought him clean sheets without him even asking.
He parked his pickup near the bunkhouse, taking care not to block the view from the door or either of the windows. He had to smile when he noticed the broom and mop leaning against the bench on the little plank porch, along with a bottle of Pine-Sol. His favorite.
His return didn’t distract her from pinning laundry to the clothesline in her backyard. He watched her from his new front yard, a little below the level of hers. Another nice view. The summer breeze batted blue denim and white cotton around and toyed with Lila’s hair. He enjoyed watching. But if she was still feeling friendly toward him, he would enjoy shooting the breeze with her even more.
Especially if she’d found her dog.
“Any luck?” he asked when he reached the clothesline. She shook her head. “I didn’t find anything on the highway.” She paused for a moment. “Guess that is lucky, when you think about it.” He ducked under an assortment of socks and turned so he could see her face. “Maybe he’s off huntin’ rabbits.”
She didn’t look at him, but she smiled a little.
Try again, he told himself. “I haven’t been around too many terriers. Maybe not big enough to take down a rabbit.”
“Size doesn’t matter. Not to a terrier. They’ll take on all comers.” She snapped a wet shirt straight. “So to speak.”
He was pretty sure she meant to be funny, but her face wasn’t showing it.
He smiled big. “A little confidence buys a lot of respect. From most comers anyway.”
“Thanks for your help.” She slid her empty basket across the grass and touch tested a sheet. “Oh, right. Towels.” She headed for another line. “Let me fold these sheets and then I’ll see if they’re dry.”
He stepped forward to help, and they fell naturally into the two-person task of taking down sheets and folding them, meeting corner to corner, brushing hand to hand.
“So your dad’s kicking back and letting Brad take over?” Del asked.
“Take over what?”
“The cattle operation. Sounds like your brother’s stepping up.”
“Stepbrother.”
“Stepping on toes, is he?” He surrendered a smooth sheet to her charge. “Kinda feelin’ my way here. You hire on with a family operation, you like to get a feel for the pecking order before you step into the coop. Don’t wanna slip on anything the first day.”
She bent to the laundry basket. “You’ll be on the bottom.”
“And you?”
“I’m not part of the order. There’s no pecking in my coop.”
“Good to know.” He unpinned a stiff towel. “Is the bunkhouse part of the peck-free zone?”
“That’s up to you. Do you have any terrier blood in you?”
He laughed. “I can sure tell you do.”
“Here you go.” She selected a pair of blue towels, started to turn them over but paused for a quick nuzzling. “Mmm. Don’t you just love the smell of air-dried laundry?”
“Mine usually comes from the Laundromat.”
She straightened suddenly, her attention drawn to something just outside the play yard. “Bingo!” She dropped the towels in the basket, ducked under the clothesline and took off toward a mass of conspicuous greenery. “Bingo?”
A telltale hiss prompted Del to follow her. The woman could sure move.
“Lila, back off,” he shouted, and she froze at the edge of the vegetable garden. “Step back real slow. That’s not Bingo.”
The critter sprang a good two feet above an orderly row of bush beans. It was a badger.
“He’s got something cornered,” Del said quietly.
“Bingo!”
He grabbed her from behind, pulled her to his chest and clamped his arms around her. “Good Lord, woman.”
He held her close and still, and they watched the badger disappear and a rattlesnake spring forth. Snake down, badger up, like squeezing a long balloon, alternating ends. It might have looked funny if desperation hadn’t been alternating with brutality.
“Damn. We’re not even on their radar.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Lila whispered, mesmerized by the hopping and hissing. “Good thing Bingo isn’t around. He’d be right in the thick of it.”
“You were close.” And he wasn’t letting her go.
They were close. She turned her head and looked up at him, and for a moment he was as deep into her as the snake was into the badger. Just as surprised. Just as engaged. Her eyes were crystalline, as blue as the sky, and damn if they weren’t almost as big. They had power.
It wasn’t until she turned back to the combatants that he was able to draw breath. He loosened his arms reluctantly but didn’t let go, and she seemed a little reluctant to be let loose. An even match, neither could gain without yielding. It was too late to compromise, too soon to take prisoners.
Too late for a handshake; too soon for a kiss.
“I can’t tell who’s winning,” she whispered.
He chuckled. All things considered, he’d made gains.
“No, really,” she insisted. “Can you?”
“I think they’re both hurtin’. Probably both wishing they’d never met.”
Finally the two animals jumped apart as though someone had blown a whistle, then turned tail and took off in opposite directions.
“What do you s’pose that was all about?”
“Home.” His arms were a little lazy about letting her go. “Some dank hole in the ground. Had to be. They sure as hell weren’t fighting over the same female.”
“As long as it wasn’t about my dog.”
“I didn’t hear either one call out, ‘Bingo!’”
“You’re funny.” Her little smile settled the urge to apologize. “I like that.”
“You really love your dog. I like that.” He grinned. “How about going to supper with me?”
“You’re expected at the other house.”
“That’s what I mean. How about going with me?” He shoved his thumbs into his front pockets. “When I get my first paycheck I’ll take you to the best café in Short Straw.”
“I thought you’d been to Short Straw.”
“I’ve been to Bucky’s Place. Had a sausage-and-egg sandwich there this morning. Fresh out of the microwave.”
“I can make you some lunch.”
“My stomach’s still working on that sandwich. Iron gut chippin’ on a rock.”
“It doesn’t get much better in Short Straw. As for Flynn ranch fare...” She glanced past him, nodded toward the road to the other house. “Here comes your boss. Do you have much experience working cattle?”
“I’m a good hand, yeah.”
“Don’t let Brad get to you. He likes to give orders.”
The red Chevy short box turned off the road and sped across the grass in their direction. Brad leaned out the window. “Hey, Fox, you ready to get to work?”
“Been ready.”
“Hop in and I’ll show you around.” He pulled on the brim of his straw hat. “What’s up, Lila?”
“Have you seen Bingo?”
“What, that old dog? You lost him?”
“I can’t find him.”
“Then he must be dead somewhere. I guarantee you, nobody would steal him.” Brad caught Del’s eye, expecting an ally. “Good for nothing, that dog. Except making a lot of noise.”
“Only when you come around,” Lila said.
“Recognition of the alpha. One thing about dogs, they know their place.” He stroked his scraggly mustache with thumb and forefinger, then grinned, basking in the perfection of his observations. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled. If I see hide or hair, you want me to bag it up for you?”
“If you find him, I’d like to have him back. Del’s already searched the right-of-way.”
“Del, huh? Just remember he works for me, Lila.” He watched Del slide into the passenger seat. “Don’t let her boss you around, man. She likes to give orders.”
“Just something to do while I was waiting on the boss.”
Del’s smiling eyes connected with Lila’s as he propped his elbow on the open window and gave her a conspiratorial wink.
Copyright © 2015 by Kathleen Eagle
ISBN-13: 9781460344682
Finding His Lone Star Love
Copyright © 2015 by Amy Woods
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Table of Contents
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Excerpt
Copyright