“There’s a good chance he’ll go somewhere else,” she said, sounding hopeful. “Besides, I don’t want it dead. I just don’t want to occupy the same space with it.”
Carrying the mouse several feet away from the house, Cooper released it, then watched it turn around and make a beeline straight back to the house. When it disappeared beneath the back porch, he shook his head and sighed heavily. He’d bet every dime he had that the furry little critter made its presence known again and ended up causing him more than a little grief in the bargain.
Five
“Y ou know, I can really sympathize with the pioneer women who helped settle this country,” Faith said, draping the last sheet over the rope clothesline that Cooper had strung across the living room.
Along with the rope he’d found in the barn, he had discovered a washboard and washtub. It wasn’t the most efficient way to launder clothes, but she’d be the first to admit that it was effective. The sheets were once again a nice, pristine white.
“Pioneers didn’t have it easy, that’s for sure,” Cooper agreed from across the room. He’d been working on a window facing and from his muttered curses, it sounded like he could use some help.
When the board he held clattered to the floor for the second time, she walked over to where he stood. “I’m finished hanging the sheets. Is there something I can do to help?”
“I’d really appreciate it if you held this while I get the nail started,” he answered, leaning down to pick up the board at his feet.
She watched him lift the window facing into place, then position it where he wanted. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his chambray shirt to just below the elbows and she found the flexing of his forearms absolutely fascinating. Never in her entire life had she seen anything quite so sexy.
“Faith?”
“What?”
“I asked if you’re ready?” he repeated. Taking the nail from the leather pouch hanging from a belt around his waist, he gave her a curious look. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yes,” she said, trying not to blush at being caught staring at his impressive sinew. She placed her hands where he indicated and to avoid the distraction of those muscles, made a point of looking down at her feet.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement to her left and turning her head, watched a furry brown mouse head straight for her foot. When it raced over the toe of her shoe, then started climbing up the leg of her sweatpants, she couldn’t help it, she let loose a startled cry.
Holding the nail with thumb and forefinger, Cooper had just drawn back to hit the nailhead with the hammer when Faith screeched like a cat with its tail caught in a door. His aim thrown off by her unexpected outburst, he missed the nail and brought the hammer down on the end of his thumb.
Normally, he did his best to watch the cuss words he used around a lady, saving the worst ones for when he was extremely frustrated, and always alone or with other guys. But the pain shooting through his thumb and up his arm loosened his tongue, and he couldn’t have stopped the colorful string of words flowing from his mouth if his life depended on it. He dropped the hammer, cradled his hand to his chest and all but turned the air blue with creative phrases, while Faith danced around the room whooping and hollering like a sugared-up five-year-old trying to do a rain dance. Even with a sore ankle, she managed to put on an impressive display, and he stopped cursing to stare at her in complete awe.
“What the hell was that all about?” he demanded, when the pain in his rapidly discoloring thumb settled down to an aching throb.
She stopped prancing around and stood in the middle of the room, searching the floor as if she’d lost something. “A mouse…tried to crawl…up my leg.”
It figured, he thought disgustedly. He’d known the minute he released that mouse and watched it cross the yard to run back to the house that it would end up causing him a butt-load of trouble.
He was extremely relieved to hear she’d been too preoccupied with getting rid of the mouse to notice his less than polite language. “I’d say after all that noise and the little jig you just danced, he’s off somewhere having a mouse coronary about now,” Cooper said dryly.
She shuddered, then looked at him for several long seconds before asking, “What happened to you?”
Apparently she’d noticed the way he held his hand protectively against his chest.
He shrugged one shoulder and held his thumb out for her inspection. The movement caused the throbbing to increase. He tried not to grimace from the pain, but failed miserably. “I missed the nail.”
“Let me see,” she said, rushing over to him. She took his hand in hers. “I caused you to hit your thumb, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.”
Her touch took his mind off some of the pain and he watched as she gently examined it. How could he tell her without making her feel worse that was exactly what had happened? He’d just as soon cut his tongue out first.
Shaking his head, he lied, “My aim was off. It would have happened anyway.”
“Where’s your first-aid kit?” she asked, her soft hands still holding his.
“I-in…” He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “In the kitchen. Why?”
“This should be iced down to prevent more swelling.” Still holding his hand in hers, she led him into the kitchen. “Do you have another ice-pack?”
Nodding, he swallowed hard. At the moment, she could have led him toward a cliff and certain death, and he would have followed her without so much as batting an eye.
She urged him to bend his arm so that his hand was held high, then pointed toward the plywood table. “Sit down on that wooden crate and rest your elbow on the table. I want you to keep your thumb upright.”
He started to tell her not to worry about it, that it had only been a glancing blow and that the throbbing had already started to ease down. Instead, he seated himself on the crate and dutifully elevated his hand.
Watching her prepare the ice bag, it suddenly occurred to him that he was seeing the “real” Faith—calm, efficient and in complete control—for the first time since her arrival. As soon as she realized he’d been hurt, she’d collected herself and taken charge. He could also tell she loved every minute of it. But then, so did he.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I caused you to injure yourself, Cooper,” she said, gently placing the bag over his thumb.
He barely managed to gulp back a groan. Her soft, warm hands holding his were enough to heat his blood, but hearing her velvety voice say his name sent it racing through his veins with the force of a record breaking flood.
“It’s no big deal,” he assured her.
“After having Percy in my class, you’d think I’d be over my aversion to mice,” she said, sounding disgusted.
“You’re a teacher?”
Nodding slowly, she sat down across the table from him. “I taught first grade.”
“For how long?”
“Six years.” She glanced down at her hands for a moment, then back at him. “When one of my students was getting ready to move to another state, he donated Percy to the class. Percy was a white mouse and really quite tame.” She shuddered. “But he was still a mouse.”
He wanted to ask her why she’d quit teaching—what had prompted her to leave her job and move to the Panhandle to seek employment as a housekeeper. But it was clear by the way she’d rushed on with her story about the mouse that she didn’t want to go into it.
“And I’ll bet that mice are right up there with spiders on your list of creepy things you’d like to avoid,” he said, grinning.
She looked relieved that he wasn’t asking more questions about her change of career. “Absolutely,” she said with a smile that damned near stole his breath.
He took the ice bag off his thumb and placed it on the plywood tabletop. He had to get away from her before he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her senseless. “I guess I know what I’ll be doing while you fix supper.”
A puzzled frown creased her fo
rehead. “What’s that?”
Rising to his feet, he grinned. “I’ll be on a mouse safari.”
“You won’t—”
Cooper shook his head. “I won’t hurt it. If I’m able to find him, I’ll catch him and take him out to the barn where he can’t terrorize you.” He grinned. “Maybe with him out there my thumbs will be safe.”
The next morning, Faith made sure to keep an eye on what was around her feet as she washed the few dishes they’d used for breakfast. Cooper had searched high and low yesterday before dinner, and later on during the evening, but hadn’t found the mouse. He’d joked that it might have made the wise choice to move on and find another place to nest for the winter rather than risk taking part in another “mouse dance.”
But Faith knew better. The little critter was probably biding his time just waiting for another opportunity to run around and scare the living daylights out of her.
She dried the last of the dishes, placed them in the cupboard, then walked out onto the back porch. The sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds this morning and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. With rain forecast for the rest of the week, there was no telling when it would appear again.
Noticing Cooper over by the barn, she walked down the steps and crossed the yard. “What are you working on now?”
“I’m trying to get this corral repaired before Flint brings cattle over here next week,” he said, without looking up. “I’ll need a couple of holding pens until I can get the pastures fenced.”
He’d removed his shirt to work and Faith found herself thoroughly mesmerized by his shoulders and upper arms. Her ex-husband Eric had belonged to a gym for over ten years and hadn’t come close to the muscle definition that Cooper had.
She waited for the sadness and regret to tighten her chest, as it always did when she thought of her ex-husband. But to her surprise, the feeling never came.
Maybe her grandmother had been right. Maybe moving away from the constant reminder of her shattered dreams was helping her to release the past and get on with building another life for herself.
Cooper turned to face her and the sight of his bare chest and rippling stomach struck her momentarily speechless. Cooper Adams was a hunk from the top of his wide-brimmed cowboy hat to the soles of his big boots. Glancing down at the worn leather, she fleetingly wondered if the old saying about the size of a man’s feet and another part of his anatomy held true for Cooper. If so…
Good heavens! Had she taken leave of her senses?
“Was there something you needed?” he asked, looking about as sexy as any man possibly could.
She gulped. It wasn’t so much a matter of what she needed as much as it was what she wanted. She needed him to put his shirt back on before she did what she wanted and reached out to touch his gorgeous body.
“Uh…no,” she finally managed to say. “I just thought I’d enjoy the sunshine for a few minutes.”
Pushing the brim of his hat back, he glanced up at the sky. “That’s probably a good idea. I don’t think it’ll last more than another couple of hours.” He pointed to a bank of clouds slowly building on the horizon. “It’s my guess the next storm front will hit just before lunch.”
“Will you be able to finish this before it starts raining?” she asked, trying not to stare at all that delicious looking masculine skin.
He raised his arms over his head to stretch. “Probably not. But I intend to get as much done as I can.”
Faith stepped over to one of the fence posts and made a show of examining the aged wood. It wasn’t that she was interested in the type of post it was or what condition it was in. She had no idea what she was looking at, nor did she care. But she had to get her mind off Cooper and the disturbing thoughts that were invading her obviously addled brain.
When he’d stretched, his muscles had flexed in the most fascinating ways and the action had drawn attention to his lean flanks and the fact that his snug jeans rode low on his narrow hips. It also revealed a thin line of dark brown hair just below his navel that disappeared beneath his waistband. She suddenly felt warm all over. And that wasn’t good.
Shaking her head to dispel the image, she concentrated on what he’d said. He needed to get as much of the corral repaired as he could before it started to rain. Since she was his only source of help, there didn’t seem to be any other choice.
She took a deep breath. She’d just have to ignore the fact that he had a body to die for.
“What can I do to help?” she asked, turning back to face him.
Cooper picked up the hammer and thought about the last time Faith had offered assistance. It was probably just his imagination, but he’d swear a tiny twinge of pain ran through his sore thumb.
He glanced at the northwestern horizon, then back at the corral. Damn! The clouds were building faster than he’d anticipated and the rain would be moving in within an hour or less.
“You don’t mind?” he asked. “This isn’t even close to the housekeeping you were expecting to do.”
She grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I expect to be well compensated for the extra work.”
Even though he hadn’t hired her, technically as owner of the Triple Bar, Cooper was responsible for paying her wages. He didn’t quite know how to tell her, but he wasn’t exactly flush with cash. Oh, he had enough to get the ranch up and running, and he’d be able to get by easy enough until it started paying off. But it sounded like she was expecting a lot more than was usual for a housekeeper’s wages.
“Exactly what did Whiskers promise you in the way of a salary?” he asked cautiously.
She named an amount that was about average for taking care of the cooking and household chores. “But Mr. Penn will be paying me dearly for the extra work I do around here.” She grinned and he noticed the mischief twinkling in her luminous brown eyes. “One whisker at a time.”
Cooper threw back his head and laughed. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll supply the tweezers and hold him down for you.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, cowboy,” she said, giving him a smile that damned near knocked his socks off. “Now tell me what to do so we can get this fence up before it starts raining.”
He picked up one end of a fence rail. “Do you think you can hold this while I nail it to the post?”
There was no denying it. He felt a definite twinge in his thumb that time. He ignored it. The mouse was somewhere inside the house and his thumbs should be safe. At least he hoped they would be.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, stepping forward to support the board he’d positioned on the post.
Thirty minutes and five fence posts later, Cooper pounded the last nail into place, then straightened from his bent position. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad I could do something useful,” she said, sounding as if she meant it.
“This would have taken me twice as long without your help,” he said, wincing as he stretched out his sore muscles.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
He rubbed the scar on his left side. “One too many wild bulls.”
“I remember you mentioned that you rode bulls.”
He nodded. “Until about five years ago. That’s when I met up with two-thousand pounds of pissed off beef called The Shredder.” He chuckled. “By the time he got finished with me, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind why he’d been given that name.”
“Was he the reason you have that scar on your back?” she asked, walking over to where he stood.
The concern in her voice, the look of compassion in her eyes, damned near knocked the breath out of him. But when she stepped behind him and started massaging his back, he lost the ability to breathe at all as her fingers gently worked at the knotted muscle just below his left shoulder blade.
She’d asked him something, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. “What did you say?”
“I asked if that was the reason you have this scar on your back,” she
said patiently.
She traced his blemished flesh with her fingertips and he had to clear his throat before he could manage to get his vocal chords to work. “Uh, yeah, after tangling with him I decided I’d tempted fate enough.”
“It looks like it was pretty serious,” she said, her hands burning a trail everywhere they touched. “How long were you hospitalized.”
“Uh, almost two weeks,” he answered. He had to find something—anything—to take his mind off the way her talented little hands were making his body respond. Trying to remember the intense pain he’d suffered, he said, “I lost my spleen…and my heart stopped twice before they got me into surgery.”
“My God, Cooper.” Her hands stilled. “It sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.”
He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore his rapidly changing body. “That’s what I’m told.”
She flattened her hands on his shoulders and trailed them down to the small of his back. “I’d have to agree. You’re very lucky,” she said softly.
His body tightened and he had to force himself to take a breath. The kind of “lucky” he’d like to be would probably get him a good smack across the face.
Thankful she couldn’t read his mind, he tried valiantly to hold himself in check. And he might have, had it not been for the feel of Faith’s soft lips brushing against the blemished flesh just below his shoulder blade. But the moment she kissed his scar, a spark ignited in his gut and the heat quickly spread to his groin. He was hard as hell and wanted her with a fierceness that damned near knocked him to his knees.
Spinning around to face her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Faith?”
“Cooper, please…” Her guileless brown eyes reflected the same heat that had him hard as hell and wanting to throw caution to the wind.
“This isn’t smart, Faith,” he said, trying desperately to talk sense into both of them.
“I know,” she agreed, sounding as short of breath as he felt. “Nothing can come of it.”
Best of Cowboys Bundle Page 161