“I didn’t realize they were this bad. I was trying to get the job done.”
Landon nodded approvingly and took the gloves from her. “I’ll finish up here. You go bandage your hands. Cal has some antibiotic ointment in his first aid kit.”
“You want to do my work?” she asked, even though it was clear he intended to do just that. He’d already picked up the shovel. It was such a nice thing to offer, considering he didn’t want her to succeed at ranching.
He plucked up her hat and handed it to her. “Won’t take me long. You got most of it.”
He plunged the shovel into the pile with more force than she’d ever managed—biceps rippling—and dumped the load into the wheelbarrow as though it was effortless.
She refused to let the man’s physical prowess and generosity impress her. He was technically her competition, practically the enemy. But since he’d offered to shovel manure, she’d let him.
“Thanks.” She tromped off to the house, stomping her boots a little in an effort to knock off the manure. The stomping only managed to make her exit look ridiculous.
She left her hat and boots outside on the porch and headed to the master bathroom. The mirror revealed hair plastered against her head in sweaty, tangled strands. A layer of dirt dusted her features, and a brown smudge spread across her cheek. Gross. She’d talked to a hot guy with manure on her face.
She needed a shower, but she ought to bandage her hands and then go out and thank Landon for his help. That would be the polite thing to do.
On the other hand, she was filthy, and what good would it do to bandage her hands when she would just have to remove them to shower? Landon would be busy for at least a half hour. That’d give her time for a quick shower. She’d be superfast.
Kate grabbed some clean clothes and undressed. The process took longer than she’d expected due to her blistered hands. Washing her hair and scrubbing away the dirt also took longer for the same reason. To make up for the time, she hardly toweled off before pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. By then, her palms stung and she gave up on trying to do the button on her jeans.
With her hair dripping onto her T-shirt, she rifled through her grandfather’s bathroom cabinets searching for a first aid kit. She didn’t find one. All she managed to come up with was a bottle of alcohol and a couple loose Band-Aids. The Band-Aids were too small to use, and she didn’t feel like pouring alcohol on her wounds. Landon had said her grandfather’s first aid kit had antibiotic ointment.
Then again, maybe Landon just supposed that her grandfather had a first aid kit. She knelt in front of the sink and checked there. She found an assortment of soap, shaving cream, and razors—stuff Grandpa would never use again. She quickly closed the cupboard.
Out in the living room, Missy let out a few sharp barks and then a happy bark of welcome. Had Landon come to the house? He couldn’t be done already, could he?
“Kitty?” Landon’s voice sounded from the front door, letting her know he had indeed finished. “Are you okay?”
“Coming,” she called and made her way to the front room.
He stood in the doorway, holding a first aid kit as large as a toolbox. He’d not only been fast, but he’d also somehow managed to do the job without getting a layer of manure on him in the process. He didn’t even look as though he’d broken a sweat. Missy sat in front of him, tail wagging furiously in a bid for attention. Landon’s attention wasn’t on the dog, though. His gaze ran over Kate, taking her in from top to bottom. Was he checking her out?
The thought wasn’t completely unwelcome. Approval from the mighty Landon Wyle would be an accomplishment. It would be proof he no longer saw her as a foolish fifteen-year-old. Kate was suddenly conscious that she wore no makeup and her hair was dripping all over her T-shirt. Definitely not her best look.
“Where did you find the first aid kit?” she asked.
“In the barn. That’s where he always kept it.”
Oh. A completely illogical place. She smiled at Landon. “Thanks for helping with the manure and for bringing me the bandages.” She held out her hand for the kit. “You’ve gone above and beyond the call of neighbor.”
Instead of giving her the kit, Landon leaned against the doorframe and pulled off one boot, then the other. “Why don’t you let me do the bandaging.”
“I’ve already taken enough of your time.” She didn’t want him to think of her as a charity case, especially when she was supposed to be proving she could run a ranch. “I can do it.”
He took off his hat and hung it on a hook by the door. She’d thought his hair had looked good, sleeked back, when he’d been dressed up at the lawyer’s office. Now she changed her mind. Messy blond waves suited him. “I might believe that,” he said, “if you’d been able to button your own pants. As it is, I think you still need some help.”
She glanced down at her jeans. She’d forgotten that she left them unbuttoned and the zipper had edged down. Face flushing, she tugged it back up. He hadn’t been checking her out earlier, he’d been noticing her fly was down. This was one more embarrassing moment for him to catalog. And now she was having trouble with the button.
“Do you want me to do that?” he asked.
Buttoning her pants seemed far too intimate a task to get help with, especially from Landon Wyle. “I can manage.” The task only required fingers. Or at least she’d always thought so. When had the button hole gotten so small and stiff?
He set the kit on the end table and sauntered over to her. “I forgot how stubborn you are.”
He was nearly to her, perfect biceps and all. “There’s a difference between being self-sufficient and stubborn.”
“Mm-hmm.” He stood so close she felt like they were about to slow dance, or kiss, or… Nope, she couldn’t think of another reason to stand this close, which was probably an indication of how attractive he was. Her brain was stuck on those two possibilities.
“May I?” he asked.
She nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
With his head bent to see her jeans, Landon took hold of the button and tugged it into the hole, then stepped away from her to retrieve the first aid kit. “Sorry that I smell like manure. Hazard of the profession…at least today.”
“What?” she asked, still flustered by his recent nearness. He didn’t smell of anything bad, just the outdoors.
He took the first aid kit to the couch, flipped it open, and sat down. “You held your breath while I was close.”
She hadn’t held her breath. She’d forgotten to breathe. And he’d noticed and taken her response as an insult. “No,” she stammered, “you smell surprisingly not of manure.” As soon as she said the words—even before he cocked his eyebrows in mock offense—she realized how the statement sounded, like she expected manure to be his everyday scent. “I mean, you smell fine. I just didn’t breathe because…” She waved her hand vaguely. “I was sucking in my stomach so you’d have an easier time with the button.” She forced a laugh and made her way to the couch. “Stress eating. These jeans are getting tight.”
His eyes zeroed in on her waist and his gaze ran over her again. “I doubt that. They look like they fit you just right.” He nodded. “Real good, in fact.”
And suddenly, despite her resolve of aloofness, these became her favorite jeans. She sat next to him, perhaps a little closer than was customary, but after all, she needed to be close so he could bandage her hands.
He sorted through the supplies until he found some gauze. Missy laid down at his feet, watching him with adoration. Landon looked so at home in her house, more at home than she felt.
“Why are you being so helpful?” She’d assumed he would sit back and hope she failed miserably in every ranch task. Instead he was here helping her.
He took a tube of antibiotic ointment out of the kit. “We were friends growing up, and neighbors help neighbors. The will doesn’t change that.”
She wouldn’t have exactly called them friends, but hopefully
he was telling the truth. He had, after all, offered to help her family before either of them found out about the will. Whatever the case, she was glad for the assistance now. She offered him her palms.
He opened the tube of ointment, squeezed out a bit, and gently took her right hand in his. His hands were warm and calloused. Working hands. Strong hands. “Sorry if this hurts some.” He brushed his finger against her palm, applying the salve.
It didn’t hurt, not much, and the way he held her hand in his, like she was delicate, was so sweet. His blue eyes had such a look of concentration.
Man, it had been too long since she’d been on date. She’d been busy with school and unsure where a job would take her, so she’d put men on hold. Now one was holding her, or at least her hand, and that small touch was doing all sorts of things to her insides. Stupid things. Landon wasn’t interested in her. He’d probably just come over to spy on her—to see if she was struggling, and she’d rewarded him with a lovely dive into a manure pile.
Now he’d go home and tell his brothers that she’d obviously never done a real day’s labor in her life because a little shoveling had ripped her skin to shreds.
“If you inherit the ranch,” Landon said, “are you still going to sell it?”
“I told my parents I’d give it to them.”
Landon paused, his eyes snapping to hers. “You’re just going to give it to them? Do you have any idea what Coyote Glen is worth?”
“Yes. It’s worth my dad feeling like his daughter loves him even if his father didn’t.”
Landon stared at her in disbelief mixed with admiration. Finally he said, “I don’t think that’s the message Cal meant to send, but I hope my kids are as generous and loyal as you are.”
A sweet compliment. Her friends back in Seattle had all told her she was being stupid.
Done with the ointment on her right hand, Landon placed a strip of gauze against her palm. He was so near that she could’ve swept away the blond strands that fell against his forehead.
She shouldn’t be thinking those sorts of things about a guy who could take her ranch, and it said something for his magnetism that she had those thoughts anyway.
Landon taped the bandage in place and moved to her other hand. He spread ointment across her left palm with caressing strokes. The feel of his fingers against her skin was almost worth the blisters. Was all this attention only due to neighborliness…or perhaps interest?
His eyes met hers. Close this way, she could see the white flecks in his blue irises that made a pattern like pale blue snowflakes. “For the next few days,” he said, “don’t do anything that puts pressure on your palms.”
She nodded and attempted a joking tone. “I’ll try not to do housework, ranch work, or slap anyone.”
The side of his mouth quirked up. “So, you’re saying if I want to do anything that would occasion a slap, now’s the time to do it?” His drawl made everything sound sexy.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What did you have in mind?”
His eyes were on the bandages, but his grin grew. “I could have a lot in mind. You’re a beautiful woman, and I have a vivid imagination.”
Ah, validation. “Now I know where Jaxon learned his flirting techniques.”
“Ouch.” Landon pretended a wince. “You don’t need to lift a finger to deliver a slap.”
“That wasn’t an insult. I like Jaxon.”
“Right,” Landon said more seriously. “I seem to recall that was the case.”
How should she respond to that? Did he think she was carrying a torch for his brother? She wasn’t. Jaxon was nice enough, but over the years she’d seen too many men like him—guys who loved getting female attention so much that it was a sport to them. Those sorts of men never wanted to settle down into a real relationship. She was more interested in Landon’s type—the sort who didn’t flirt indiscriminately. Except that she’d just accused him of flirting like Jaxon, so she couldn’t very well tell Landon she didn’t go for that type. He’d think she was telling him she wasn’t interested in him.
And now she’d waited too long to speak.
“That should do it.” Landon taped an edge of the bandage in place and surveyed his work. “Remember not to get your hands dirty, or they could become infected. Have Dewayne handle anything hard.”
Yeah. And this advice was coming after Dewayne had already given her the easy job because she didn’t know how to fix pumps or work on irrigation pipe. “I will. Thanks for your help.”
Landon put the tape and scissors back into the box. He would leave soon, and she didn’t want him to. She’d only spent two days by herself on Coyote Glen, but the loneliness of the rest of the week and month and year loomed in front of her. “How did you know the first aid kit was in the barn?”
He shrugged. “I’ve had my share of injuries. Cal had to patch up a wound or two.”
Kate turned her hands over and set them carefully on her lap. “It’s just like my grandpa to put the first aid kit somewhere impossible to find. I’m glad you knew where it was, or I would’ve had to drive to Bisbee for Band-Aids using only my fingertips.”
Landon snapped the lid shut. “Cal was being practical. Most injuries take place out on the ranch, so supplies are easier to get to in the barn. Otherwise, you’d have to walk through the house, dripping blood.”
“You’re not making me look forward to ranching. How much blood is usually involved?”
Landon shot her a grin. “You’re welcome to quit any time.”
Yes, he’d like it if she quit after the second day. Landon was attractive and had been flirting with her, but that didn’t mean she could trust him. Despite his easy smiles and charming slow drawl, he wanted to take her family’s land. She needed to remember that. “You and my grandfather must have been close for him to consider leaving the ranch to you,” she said casually.
“You could say that.” Landon reached down and scratched Missy’s ears. “Cal and I were cut from the same cloth—the type who prefer to work outdoors instead of cooped up in some office.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed, not in anger but because she was trying to figure Landon out. She wouldn’t have ever described herself as cut from the same cloth as her grandfather—that would be some hard and unbending cloth. “Do you really think he was a good man?”
Landon met her gaze without hesitation. “I know he was.” He tilted his head in question. “Are you still smarting because he yelled at you for kissing Jax? Because if so, it’s long past time to let go of that resentment.”
Easier said than done. Landon made the incident sound small and trivial. It hadn’t been, at least not for her. She leaned back into the couch cushions with a huff. “Do you remember your first kiss? I bet your grandfather didn’t accuse you of committing sin after it.”
“I don’t recall Cal ever using the word sin.”
“It took me two years to kiss anyone else. Every time a guy tried, I had post-traumatic flashbacks.”
Landon settled into the cushions too, matching her stance. “Think of it this way: waiting until you were seventeen for the next kiss probably saved you from a lot of trouble in the long run.”
He was determined to be unsympathetic. Kate crossed her wrists. It was the closest she could come to folding her arms in irritation. “Maybe you are cut from the same cloth as my grandfather. As I recall, on the cattle drive, you jumped to the wrong conclusions pretty fast and refused to budge.”
“Oh? What conclusions do you think I should’ve jumped to when I found my brother lying on top of you, giving you kissing lessons?”
“See, you’re still doing it. The whole incident was completely innocent.”
Landon raised his eyebrows, an expression that indicated he thought she was in self-denial.
“The point is,” she went on, “thanks to you and my grandfather, I had the worst first kiss experience ever. I was probably permanently scarred.”
Landon nodded in sympathy. “Well, if you ever need someone to he
lp you work through your kissing issues, I’d be happy to oblige.”
She was not going to let herself blush at the suggestion. “How thoughtful of you.”
He shrugged. With his broad shoulders, even that little motion looked attractive. “I contributed to the problem. Only seems right I help with the solution.”
“You are nothing but considerate, Mr. Wyle.” And tempting.
“Since you won’t be able to slap anyone for a few more days, I can speak my mind.” His eyes went serious, his teasing gone. “You really do need to forgive your grandfather for the past. I can assure you that he gave Jaxon a worse grilling, and Jax managed to put it behind him. He had a good relationship with Cal. Audrey used to love coming over here with him. You, on the other hand, missed the last seven years of your grandfather’s life.”
Landon’s words were as good as an accusation that she’d been petty. Still, she answered calmly. “I’m not the one who ruined our relationship. Grandpa did that on his own. He was too judgmental, and after he judged a person, he didn’t change his mind.”
“You think he was judgmental because he was upset his fifteen-year-old granddaughter was found underneath a seventeen-year-old boy?” Landon held up his hands to stop her from interrupting. “And it might be the truth that the incident was more innocent than it seemed, but you can’t blame people for believing what their eyes tell them.”
“Might be the truth?” she repeated. “Do you think I’m lying about it?”
“No. I know how my brother was back then. He could’ve engineered a fall.”
Doubtful. She’d been the one to stand up while holding the blanket that was wrapped around them. She sighed in resignation. “I guess there’s no point now in trying to convince you that you can’t always believe your eyes. Anyway, Grandpa didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He immediately thought the worst, humiliated me, and sent me home.”
Landon pressed his lips together. “It shouldn’t bother me that you never understood him, but it does.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “When Jaxon was seventeen, he was girl crazy and making bad choices. Cal knew that about him. After the way things went with your parents, you can’t blame him for worrying.”
The Cowboy and the Girl Next Door: (A Clean, Enemies to Lovers Romance) Wyle Away Ranch Book 1 Page 6