As soon as Celia saw her resting, she strolled toward her, chatting with a Native American guy who had to be Eli Whirling Cloud.
People who claimed Mexicans and Indians were the same ethnicity had been talking out their ass. Eli looked nothing like the Mexicans she’d been raised around in Texas—certainly nothing like her Mexican uncle from her mom’s side of the family. Eli was tall—over six feet, with a rangy, lean build. He dressed like a cowboy, wearing boots, jeans, long-sleeved shirt. His hat was shaped differently and he’d jammed an eagle feather into the hat band. Eli’s dark hair spilled into a long braid down his back. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties—a little young to be some kind of Indian wise man.
He aimed a kind smile at her and offered his hand. “Tanna, I’m Eli. Sorry we haven’t had a chance to meet officially before now. Thought I’d wander over during a break in the action. It’s been a hectic morning, eh?”
“I’ll say. Never been to a branding like this before.”
“I’ve done my part. The rest is up to you,” Celia said to Tanna before she flounced off.
Eli chuckled. “No pressure.”
Tanna relaxed and smiled at him. “She is pushy.”
“Celia hasn’t always been that way. She’s come into her own the last few years, so you won’t hear me complaining about the change in her, ’cause it is for the better.”
“I’ve only seen her as the feisty Wyoming cowgirl who doesn’t take any crap.” Tanna paused. “I’m curious to know what she told you about me.”
“That you are a gen-u-wine Texas ranch girl. Tough as dirt. So I was happy to see she hadn’t exaggerated your livestock-handling ability. You were a real asset today.”
She appreciated his compliment. “Thanks. But I’ll point out that you sound surprised.”
He shrugged. “I was. I’ve met a few supposed Texas ranch women a time or two.”
“Consider yourself lucky that you’ve only run across those types. They were the bane of my existence growing up in Texas on our ranch. Those girls whose daddies owned the biggest spreads and ran thousands of heads of cattle, never set foot in the corrals, pastures or barns, let alone helped out during branding. They took private horse riding lessons. So even if they wanted to ride one of their expensive horses on their family land, they had ranch hands to saddle up. They were all about the Texas experience, but not the work.”
“So your folks raised you to do ranch work?”
“Not originally.” She took another pull off her water bottle. “My mom cooked, sewed and ran the household. She wanted me to be like those girls—proud to tell people of their ignorance in what it takes to run a ranch. But I rebelled. Early as I can remember I spent most of my time outside with the horses and my uncle who taught me everything about livestock and ranching. Which means I’m hopeless at domestic things.” She snorted. “So I’m seriously lacking in any career fallback skills outside of chasin’ cans. I’m grateful for the chance to work at the Split Rock for a bit.”
Eli pushed his hat up higher on his forehead. “I heard about your accident. To hear Celia talk, you’re needin’ my help.”
Tanna felt him looking at her but she focused on the grooved edges of her water bottle. “I don’t know if anyone can help me.”
“Why’s that?”
She pointed to the group of horses at least two hundred yards away. “This is the closest I’ve been to any horses in nine months.” She finally met his gaze.
His eyes were gentle, but shrewd. “On a scale of one to ten, how scared are you to get on a horse?”
Tanna imagined herself holding her tack, standing outside the paddock. And just like every time she’d imagined it in the last few months, her stomach roiled. “One hundred.”
He nodded. No judgment. “Before the incident, you had daily interactions with horses?”
“Yes, my whole life. I started helping my uncle feed when I was three. I was riding by myself at age five. And I started running barrels when I was eight.”
“Besides that one specific barrel horse, have you regularly ridden other horses over the past few years?”
“When I used to go home, I’d help with the livestock, which usually entailed me bein’ on horseback. I rode Daisy, a real ranch workhorse.” She looked away, across the pasture. “Now, some days— hell, most days—the thought of bein’ in a pen or a stall or even a damn field with horses makes me physically ill.”
Eli remained contemplative for about a minute. “So I guess my question is . . . since you feel that way, do you want my help to overcome it?”
“I’m not hedging when I tell you I don’t know.”
“You don’t need to decide right now. The offer will stand.”
“Thank you. I’m not blowing off your generous offer. I’m just in an odd place right now, in so many ways. I’m broke. My family has splintered. If not for the generosity of my friends, I wouldn’t even be here.”
Eli gave her that soft smile. “Your friends care about you enough to want you here so they can find a way to help you. That’s more support than a lot of people have. Besides, I’ve spent most my life broke. It ain’t all that bad. The upside is no one ever hits me up for a loan.”
She laughed softly.
“And there’s that,” he said with quiet intensity that was oddly calming. “Never take for granted your ability to feel something good and laugh.”
Tanna had the sense he was speaking from personal experience.
“If and when you’re ready to tackle some of the issues, feel free to call me. I don’t have business cards with me, but I’ll get you my number before you leave today.”
She stared into his serene eyes but there wasn’t a spark of sexual attraction between them, which meant she couldn’t stop the question that tumbled forth. “Why are you offering a total stranger your help?”
“Because you need it and you’re too proud to ask for it. Besides, what do you have to lose by trusting me?”
Nothing, because she’d lost everything already.
Kyle shouted for Eli, and he walked away.
Well, now. That conversation wasn’t what she’d expected.
As she was contemplating Eli’s confident, yet gentle, vibe, two hands landed on either side of hers on the fence. Then a hard male chest connected with her back and the man’s hips did a little bump and grind on her backside. Warm lips brushed her ear.
“Hey, hot stuff. Wanna get down and dirty with me?”
Tanna spun around to find herself body to body with Devin McClain. A couple million women across the world would give anything to be this close to the smoking-hot country music sensation, with his soulful blue eyes, infectious grin and that deep sexy voice. Tanna liked Devin, liked drinking with him, but the man didn’t do it for her at all. A fact Devin attempted to change at every opportunity. “Devin, you horny devil, when you gonna give up and realize I’m not interested?”
“Never.” He rubbed his whiskered cheek across hers on the way to whisper in her ear, “Why you still playing hard to get with me, Miss Tex-ass?”
“Because fucking me would ruin you for all other women since I’m so fantastic in the sack, and I think there’s a few ladies in the far reaches of Maine that haven’t sampled the love machine that is superstar Devin McClain.”
Devin threw back his head and laughed. “Have I mentioned how much I love that you bust my balls?”
“Even when they’re blue?”
“Even then. But I’ll admit that’s a rare day. It’s good to be me.” He gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth. Then his too-handsome face became serious. “How you really doin’?”
“I’ve got a job and a place to live for the summer.”
“Maybe I shoulda thought of hiding out at the Split Rock this summer. No one would think to look there.”
Strange comment. “Dev? What’s goin’ on?”
“Fame bullshit. I feel fucking stupid even saying that. Nothin’ major, just a few overzealous fans forcing me to be cautious. Which is why I’m happy to be here, covered in cow shit, hanging out with people who happily bust my balls.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “So after the branding work is done, let’s you and me put on some music, do a little two-steppin’ and get totally hammered.”
“In your dreams, superstar manwhore.”
He laughed again. “Let’s partner up for the next bunch of calves.”
Tanna smirked. “I’m assuming you’ll be on the ass end since you’re so good at chasin’ tail?”
“And I hear you’re an expert at giving head, so you got the front end, Miss Tex-ass,” he shot back.
Then Bran opened the gate, the calves rushed in and they got to work.
Chapter Four
Fletch showed up at Kyle and Celia’s in the early afternoon. They’d just branded the last calf and were running the pairs back into the pasture. So he hopped in Eli’s truck and rode along behind the guys on horseback and manning ATVs.
Several minutes passed when they didn’t speak. Finally Eli said, “Did I do something to piss you off that I ain’t aware of, cuz? You’re awful quiet.”
“Nope. It’s stupid but there’s something I can’t get out of my head.”
“Ah.” Eli shoved his sunglasses on top of his head. “Not it. So who is she?”
“I don’t know.” He gave Eli the lowdown, and his frustration on why this woman had gotten under his skin. After he finished speaking, he said, “So, got any sage advice?”
“Nope.”
That made him laugh. “That’s gotta be a first.” As the truck bounced through the pasture, Fletch wiggled to get comfortable. These regular-sized passenger cabs were torture for a big guy like him—his knees were smashed against the dash, his shoulders hit the wrong part of the bench seat and his head touched the roof of the cab.
He stared out of the dirty pickup window. He’d purposely shown up after the branding, vaccinating and castrating portion had ended. His friends wouldn’t razz him for appearing when the hard work was over. They understood that his profession as their veterinarian and their personal friendships straddled a fine line. So far none of his buddies had taken advantage of his good nature and expected his help without compensation. Hank and Abe, Bran and the Split Rock were decent-sized operations and Fletch depended on the income.
Not that he was getting rich. But he had been restless the past few months and had closed himself off from his friends. Cora blamed it on his lack of downtime for any length of time. His dad suggested he try one of those lateral career moves—going to work for someone else. Despite the demands of his grueling job, Fletch enjoyed his clients. He enjoyed the challenges of diagnosing and treating large animals, as much as he enjoyed the familiarity of performing the same procedures day after day.
But wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to share the burden with? At least professionally?
His married friends dropped hints that he should focus on his personal life and actively look for a woman to settle down with.
The Texas hottie from two nights ago popped back into the forefront of his thoughts—which provided all the proof he needed that he was nowhere near ready to settle down.
“You’re still awful quiet over there,” Eli commented.
“Sorry I’m not great company. Just wondering if I should’ve gone home after that last call instead of coming here.”
“Because of her? Your mystery woman?”
“Seeing all these happy couples makes me worry I’m starting to suffer burnout from one-night stands.”
Eli looked at him sharply. “You? Damn, Fletch, that scares me.”
“Me too. And being here makes me feel guilty about how far behind I am in helping Renner and Tobin with their potential commercial stock-breeding program.” Fletch ran a hand through his hair. “I need to devote at least a month to it—just on the research side.”
“You’re headed into a slower season with calving done. I heard Bran sayin’ he planned to turn the bulls out in the next two weeks.”
“Some of my clients already have.”
“So that gives you, what, two months before you start preg testing?”
“Yep. Even if I manage to take one full day off a week during the slower season, that’s not enough time. And I don’t want to be the one holding up the project—then I realize I already am and I probably need to back out. I freakin’ hate bein’ that guy who lets people down.”
“Hmm.”
Hmm from Eli never boded well. Fletch returned his sharp look. “What?”
“Nothin’.”
“Bullshit. Say it.”
“Just thinking how it’s gotta suck for you, always bein’ so dedicated and responsible. And I’m pretty sure there ain’t no one you’ve let down recently.”
Fletch snorted. “You oughta talk. Your dedication to the people and animals in your life makes me look irresponsible.”
Eli grinned. “I gotta one-up ya when I can, Dr. Fletcher.”
“I’ve definitely one-upped you in the vehicle department. This truck of yours is like riding in a tin can.”
“Stop fidgeting. I swear you’re worse than the rez kids.”
“Doubtful. I’ve seen how wild your charges are.”
The caravan pulled around and they followed as the second to last vehicle out, passing Kyle so he could make sure all the gates were closed.
Eli parked at the edge of the road down from the house. “About time to eat, I reckon.”
“Good. I’m starved. Maybe there’ll be leftovers to take home.”
“Says the bachelor,” Eli said dryly.
“Says the former bachelor who now has a woman fixing his meals and warming his bed.”
“Your jealousy is fully warranted because my Summer is damn good at both.”
“Don’t rub it in.” Fletch hopped out of the truck and took in the trucks and SUVs as they walked toward the tents. “Seems to be less people here than in years past.”
He shrugged. “Ain’t that the way it goes? People say they’re gonna help and then they don’t.”
Was that a poke at him? Before he could ask for clarification, Eli spoke again. “There are new faces here. Well, Devin ain’t new, but he did show up.”
“Why in the hell would Devin show up at a branding? He never has time for this stuff anymore.” Fletch squinted at the people clustered in groups of two or three. No surprise he saw Devin talking to some woman by the corrals.
“Mebbe he needed to connect with his roots. Spend time with his friends who don’t care that he’s a country music superstar. He had a great time. Threw down a lot of calves today. He partnered with Celia and Lainie’s friend.” He pointed to the woman chatting with Devin. “That girl knows her way around ranch work. She impressed me.”
High praise coming from Eli.
Ike motioned to Eli and he jogged up the hill to meet him.
Tobin Hale, Renner’s jack-of-all-trades whiz kid, entered Fletch’s peripheral vision and handed him a beer. “Heya, Doc.”
“Thanks for the beer.” He cracked the can open. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Not much. Wishing there were more single chicks here. We had a blast last year, remember?”
“Parts of it. Other parts . . . kinda hazy.”
“You ended up with that Carla chick from Montreal.” He sighed. “She was hot. You ever hear from her?”
“Nope. I don’t recall why she was even at the branding.”
“Seriously?” Tobin glugged down his beer. “She was a photojournalist on assignment for some cowgirl magazine. She kept snapping pictures of chaps and asses. Maybe she got your buck-nekkid butt on film. What if you’re on some Wild Men of Wyoming hunk-of-the-month calendar?”
“Fuck off.�
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Tobin laughed. “Easy for you to say when you’re getting laid all the time.”
“You’re not?” Fletch gave him a lewd once-over. “You ain’t that bad lookin’. You packing a peanut or something?”
“Fuck off, old-timer. Ain’t a lot of opportunities to meet women when I spend ninety-five percent of my time at the Split Rock with Hugh and Renner. And the guests are off-limits.”
Sipping his beer, he watched Devin and his mysterious female branding partner cozied up. “Who’s she?”
“Hard not to notice, her, huh? She’s the Split Rock’s newest employee.”
“What’s her name?”
“Tanna. I brought a cup of coffee to her trailer this morning, you know, to welcome her, since she only showed up yesterday. She was real sweet. She even laughed at a couple things I said. So I thought I might have a shot at her, but it appears she’s fallen for movie-star good looks, fame, money and charm.”
“Be easy to hate McClain if he wasn’t such a great guy.”
“He sure wasn’t afraid to get dirty today.”
“Devin may be all slicked up when he’s onstage, but down deep he’ll always be a rough Wyoming cowboy.” He considered wandering over and introducing himself, but like Tobin, he couldn’t compete with Devin’s fame, PR training and practiced charm. But for some reason, he couldn’t look away from the couple.
Tobin kept talking and Fletch half listened as he finished his beer.
He watched this Tanna chick flirting shamelessly with Devin. She looked great from the back. Long legs. A tight ass. Curvy hips and a small waist that he could span with his hands. She wore a beat-up straw hat pulled down low that put every part of her face in shadow. She wore dusty, muddy jeans with some greenish substance smeared across the back of her shirt. She held a beer in one hand, gesturing wildly with the other. Whatever she’d said made Devin laugh.
An odd buzz started in the base of his spine as she leaned forward to set her empty beer can on the ground and her hat fell off. Her freed hair fell in a waterfall of mahogany-colored silk.
The same silky tresses that’d trailed across his chest two nights ago.
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