Tannen touches the brim of his hat with a fingertip, nodding his chin down once in goodbye. Right before he gets in his fancy new truck, he turns and addresses us. “Make sure you tell Louise hello for me. Been a minute since I’ve seen her. Hope she’s doing okay with all this stress and sadness. Lovely woman, your Mama. Hate to see her torn to pieces with all this . . .”
He gestures vaguely to the land surrounding us, then ducks into the truck to pull a U-turn out and head down the drive. We stand stock-still, statues until he crests over the hill out of sight. I barely resist the urge to chase the fucker down and beat the shit out of him for his disrespect and, hell, for even saying Mama’s name like that, like he has some personal connection with her.
As he disappears, just a cloud of dirt remaining, we turn on each other. “What the fuck was that?” I ask. “What gives that fucking snake even a hint we might not be doing fine?”
Luke’s voice is softer but no less intense as he grabs Mark’s arm and looks in his eyes. “Are we doing okay?”
Mark looks skyward for a second, seeming to gather himself as he pulls his hat off and runs a big hand through his short hair, which makes me freeze. He’s always calm and collected, so this must have set him on edge too.
“Mark?”
He resets his hat and pulls free of Luke’s grip. “We’re fine. I was already doing most of the business side even before Pops died; he was never much for numbers and spreadsheets. But the ranch has been running smooth and in the black for years, a little up and down some years, but always in the black. We don’t need to sell unless we want to, and I can tell you right now . . . I don’t want to, and I’m not.”
He eyeballs both of us, daring us to say we want to sell. I can’t speak for Luke, but as for me, I told Tannen the truth. “Hell no, I don’t want to sell. Of course not.”
Luke nods. “Me neither. I know I’m here and gone, but this is where I come back to every time. No way.”
Mark looks around at the two of us, and for the first time in a while, I see a hint of a smile cross his face. “I didn’t think so. But what worries me more is that he said he’d talked to Mama about this before. Either of you know about that? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”
Luke and I shake our heads. All three of us meet eyes for a moment before turning as one and marching toward the house. Mama should be back from town by now.
Busting in the front door, we all bellow, “Mama!”
Not getting an answer, we look around for a moment before Luke disappears down the stairs leading to the cellar. “She’s in the pantry, boys. Mama . . . come on out here for a minute, please.”
She comes up the old stairs, wiping her hands on an apron like I’ve seen her do a million times before, and it feels comforting. Everything’s right in the world if your Mama can wipe her hands on her apron like nothing’s wrong that a little bit of cleaning can’t fix.
“What are you boys doing up at the house, yelling at me for? I’ve been downstairs for an hour, getting my jelly jars ready. Peach harvest’s next month, and while our ranch doesn’t have a lot, I do happen to like preserves on my toast come January.”
Mark steps forward, ever the adult in any situation. “Paul Tannen from up the road just stopped by. Said some interesting things, made an interesting offer.”
He leaves it hanging, waiting to see her take on Tannen’s unscheduled appearance.
Mama’s face says it all. “Ugh, that man. He’s been a snake for thirty years—time ain’t changed his scales. Never did see what Martha saw in that man, but I guess that’s neither here nor there since she passed on when their babies were just little ones. John was polite with him, but he felt the same way I did.”
It’s been a bit since I’ve thought about the boys down the road, but once upon a time, we’d all been little hellions together. The three Bennett boys plus three Tannen boys more than once raised a little ruckus at Great Falls Elementary. I heard even their baby sister got up to shenanigans on occasion, but by then I’d stopped hanging out with them. They’d become jerks at an early age, and we drifted apart. The rift continued as we hung out with different crowds the rest of the way through school, even though we’re the same age as a couple of the boys.
The last time I talked with any of them was when we mended a fence together, and it wasn’t even working together. They just started at the south end of the fence while we started at the north, and we met in the middle. We exchanged barely a dozen words the whole time.
Funny how even in a small town, you can live in a different world from someone right down the street if your social circles never cross.
Mark, though, isn’t totally placated. “He said he tried to buy the ranch from you? Why is this the first I’ve heard of it?”
Mama waves her hand, like Mark just “told a funny,” like she says. “Pshaw. Boy, I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t no thing. I was in town, ran into him. He offered, I said no. That’s it. Honestly, I was surprised he didn’t try to sleep it out from underneath me.”
We all flinch a little; nobody wants to think about their parents that way.
She smirks, reading my mind. “Relax, James. Like I said, your daddy never liked Paul either. Said he was always eyeballing me. I never noticed it, but John said no man should eyeball his wife, especially not in his presence, and expect to be friends with him afterward.”
She laughs a little, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “He was a good man; always did right by me. I don’t know if he ever said anything to Paul about it, but I know he was more than ready to knock that man’s keister in the dirt if he got fresh.”
Her attention refocuses on us, and she smiles. “I ain’t sleeping the ranch away, and I ain’t selling it away.” She locks onto Mark, lifting an eyebrow. “We don’t need to, right? You’d tell me if that were the case.”
It’s a statement, not a question, and we all know better than to keep secrets from her because she always finds out the truth somehow, and you pay twice as hard as if you’d been up front in the first place.
Mark nods, relaxing a hair. “Of course I would. We’re fine, Mama.”
She claps her hands, pleased. “Well, there you go. Crisis averted. Now you boys best get back to work. Sunlight’s burning.”
Dismissed, we walk back toward the barn as she disappears back into the cellar. Outside, though, we share our thoughts.
“I don’t like it,” Luke starts. “He saw us first today and made a beeline toward us to appeal his case. But what if we’d been out in the fields? Would he have propositioned Mama again . . . about the ranch? About more?”
Mark makes a grumpy noise, and I’m sure he’s got thoughts along the same line as mine. Country justice is sometimes called for. “I don’t like it either. Keep an eye out for his flashy truck. Give me a holler if you see him turning in our drive.”
Luke nods. “Consider it done.”
That settled, we all head back out from a decidedly longer lunch than we’d planned. My sandwich sits like a stone in my gut after all the drama. I don’t like it, not one bit.
I wish I’d punched Tannen in his smug face when he offered to buy our ranch. Bet he wouldn’t come back for another try after that.
And he can stay the fuck away from Mama. That’s for damn sure.
CHAPTER 11
SOPHIE
I’ve been buzzing since waking up, on a high after my date with James last night. The way he maneuvered me, touched me, and made me come harder than ever before still leaves me shivering as I go about my duties with Doc, and more than once I’ve had to swallow the urge to just go monologuing about James.
There’s a headiness to the way he mixes polite country-boy manners with that unique wildness that has me riled up, and I can’t wait to see what he’s planned for our second date. I haven’t looked forward to a date like this in a long time.
Heading out to the parking lot of Doc’s office, I decide to take a minute to freshen up. I can’t do too much; it’s ha
rd to dress for a date when I’m going straight from working with animals to another barn. But I do take a minute to touch up my light makeup, slicking on the strawberry gloss he seemed to like and switching my dirty T-shirt for a tank top, still modest but sexy enough to show a little skin as it skims my curves.
As I drive out, the sun feels nice on my skin, and I’m humming with excitement. Everything’s great . . . until I pull in the gate.
James is there like always, swinging the gate open, but he doesn’t hop down from his horse to dip in the cab for a kiss like he did yesterday.
“Hey, something wrong?”
James half turns in the saddle and nods. “Nothin’ you need to worry about. Just business and family stuff.”
James is quiet as we get to the barn to check on Briarbelle and her foal. Both are still doing well, and I’m glad to see the baby is looking a little antsy even. At this point, I don’t think they even need the antibiotics, but it’s always best to finish the course. It’ll also be good for mama and baby to get some time in a pasture, walking and playing like they’re supposed to.
As I finish up my notes, James watches me, hands in his pockets and one boot heel cocked up on the stall railing. Still, there’s a tension inside him that’s impossible to miss. He’s not comfortable with me right now, regardless of what he said about his mood being down to “business stuff.” Maybe he’s having some second thoughts after last night?
I thought things went well. Hell . . . way better than well. And I tried to reciprocate, but he didn’t let me. Maybe that was for a reason?
Only one way to find out, I guess. I cap my pen and tuck it away, snapping my notebook closed. “So, we still going on that second date tonight?”
James startles, seemingly not even aware that I’m here. “Yeah, about that . . . can I get a rain check? Maybe we can go out tomorrow night, and tonight we can just do dinner here? It’s been an interesting day.”
I’m disappointed, but whatever. This is supposed to be casual, and maybe he really has had something of a day. I usually prefer a night out to rinse away the stress, but maybe that’s not his style?
And he did specify tomorrow night for our date. So, while we’ve got a rain check, it’s not a dismissal. He’s not totally trying to blow me off with a “maybe sometime,” and I don’t know any sane man who would try to get rid of a girl by inviting her to have dinner with his family. So . . . it’s all good, right?
“Sure, that’s fine, I guess,” I reply, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. James notices, and he at least looks a little chagrined, but says nothing as we walk toward the open doors. Along the way, I pause to pet each animal as we pass, unable to resist their neighs at the stall doors as they beg for some love and attention.
Near the door, I see a stunning huge chestnut stallion with a white diamond on his face, who wiggles his upper lip as I pet him. “He’s beautiful. And a flirt, it looks like. Must be yours.”
James walks over with a carrot, and for the first time today, I hear his voice soften a little. “That he is. I’ve been riding Cooper recently because my buddy here had a sore hoof. But this is Hunter, named because he’s always hunting a treat and an unsuspecting person to charm out of said treat.”
I take the carrot and feed it to him carefully. The stallion takes the treat with almost dainty movements before chomping down with a twinkle in his eye. “Seems to have his act down to a science, especially since it worked on us.”
James smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “He’s . . . unique.”
I try to take advantage of the opening to ask him what’s wrong, but before I can, a loud bell sounds. I guess dinner’s ready.
After washing up, all of us sit around the table, taking the same seats as we did before.
Luke and Mark share James’s stony face, which while making for a tense dinner atmosphere, at least reassures me that James wasn’t lying. Something’s going down, and while it sort of sucks to not know what it is, I realize that it’s probably not my business.
Mama Lou is a great host, though, passing around a serving dish piled high with slices of meat loaf followed by a big platter of freshly fried onion rings.
She gives me an amused look as the dish comes my way. “I grew these onions right out in the garden, you know? But I’ll tell you a secret . . . I don’t even like onions. That’s why I fry them up. Everything tastes good battered in flour and fried in butter, even onions.”
I laugh at her joke, but the guys all barely grunt. Well, okay then. I get things might be cloudy somewhere, but this food smells delicious.
“Well, I’ll let you in on a secret of my own,” I stage whisper back. “The only way I like onions is fried . . . or in a good meat loaf. So I guess we’re both lucky tonight.”
Dinner progresses as the conversation is mostly just between Mama Lou and me. Mark’s especially grumpy, grunting more often than forming words, eating his dinner like he’s in the army or something, head down and machinelike.
There’s an odd tension brewing, too, and I wonder if it’s because of my date with James last night. We were out late, and James must have slept in at least a little. I know I was dragging ass to pick up Doc on time, and my day starts a lot later than his.
All my thoughts or worries dissolve, though, as James sits back in his chair and slides a hand under the table to rest on my thigh. I resist the urge to jump, but the heat from his touch immediately makes my pussy wet, and that feels wholly inappropriate at Mama’s dinner table.
His thumb starts drawing lines, no . . . shapes on my thigh, and I try to focus on what Mama Lou is saying, while at the same time trying to decipher what he’s tracing.
“So, anyway, after digging out all my jars, I realized that I had a box that I hadn’t opened yet. And lo and behold, there were my missing quart jars I thought I’d broken last year! I’d thrown a fit then, going out and buying new ones . . . well, of course I had to use them. So I did a test run. My friend Patricia brought over about five pounds of strawberries and blackberries that she grows wild on her property. Normally I put them in a pie, but I decided today to make a little bit of jam. So I sterilized a half dozen of the jars, and they’re downstairs now. Tell Doc—”
In the middle of Mama’s story, I finally realize what James is repeating: S . . . J . . . a star . . . and a heart. My heart stutters as my thighs clench. Fuck, I need him.
To look at him, you’d never know that his mind is rolling through last night. In fact, he’s still just as tense as Mark and Luke, but somewhere inside, he is thinking about us, and that eases my nerves a bit.
Mama finishes her story, and I realize I’ve missed a question. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I asked if Doc would like blackberry or strawberry jam. Well, never mind, I’ll send you back tomorrow with a jar of each. You just keep which one you like, and Doc can get the other. Now, who’s up for dessert?”
Dinner finishes, and I half hope that James will want to walk down to the pond again. Maybe if we’re alone, I can figure out what’s bugging him and help him handle it . . . either directly or by distraction.
I’m sure I could come up with at least one or two ways to distract him, and only one or two of them involve me getting on my knees.
Instead, he escorts me back to Doc’s truck in the drive, opening the door for me like usual. He presses a hand to the door and one to the cab, and I turn in the cage he’s created for me.
Well, I guess I’m just going to have to try it the hard way. “You sure you’re okay tonight, James?”
“I’m f—”
“Come on,” I whisper, cupping his face. “Something’s eating at you. Your brothers too. Mark was doing his best caveman impression all dinner, and even Luke wasn’t his normal chatty self. I gotta ask . . . did I do something? Is there tension because of me?”
“You?” James asks, surprised. “Of course not. It’s just . . .”
He sighs, looking down at his boot where he’s grinding it in the
dirt. “Okay, here’s the deal. We had a so-called friend of the family and neighbor offer to buy the ranch today. Found out he’d made the same offer to Mama before, but she didn’t tell anyone. We’re all protective of her, and it kinda set us on edge.”
I stroke my thumb across his cheek, the day’s worth of stubble tickling my skin, and lift his chin to look in his eyes. “It’s good that you three protect her. Does she want to sell? Do you guys?”
He hisses, stepping back like I just asked him if he wanted to quit rodeo to join a boy band. “Hell no. As the fucker drove off in his fancy truck, it was all I could do to not chase after him and punch him out.”
I laugh a bit and step closer. “Well, then . . . no harm, no foul, as they say. This guy made an offer, you refused. Nobody got assaulted. Everyone goes about with their lives. Don’t let it tear you up, Cowboy.”
He grins, scratching his lip with his thumb in the way that draws my attention right to his mouth, and nods. “Maybe you’re right, city girl. Just business, you say? I’m thinking we had some business planned for ourselves, and I’ve gone and mucked it up tonight.”
I smile, kinda glad that he realizes that bailing on our date is a downer after I’d been excited all day. “Perhaps . . . but no harm, no foul.”
James laughs quietly and pulls me in close, where I immediately feel warm and safe. “I tell you what. How about if I pick you up tomorrow at your place like a real date? Finish up with Briarbelle, and head home to get fancied up. A dress even; I bet you wear dresses better than any girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll drive us up to the resort, and we’ll eat like city folks. What do you say?”
Before I even think about it, I throw my arms around his neck and pop up onto my tiptoes to lay a smacking kiss on his lips. “That sounds lovely! Just to be clear . . . I was fine with our date by the pond and fine with the local steak house, too, but I’m not going to miss out on a chance to get dressed up and show off a bit for you, Cowboy. You’re in trouble now.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 9