“I’ll handle it,” Rocky responded. “This isn’t the first time this has happened. I need him around here, but I won’t tolerate his behavior. If I do, the others will follow his lead.” He sighed, muttering to himself, “If it’s not one damn thing, it’s another.”
As Rocky and Silas walked toward the row of bunkhouses, commiserating amongst themselves, Trevor headed to the barn. Ketra followed. They unsaddled their mounts in silence. When he finished brushing his horse, Trevor took a pitchfork into an empty stall and scooped manure into the wheelbarrow sitting in the corridor.
“Why don’t you have one of the guys do that?” she asked him.
He looked at her as though he’d forgotten she was there. “Losing Carter means additional work for everyone else. The other guys are already covering Brooks’ chores. It’s not fair to keep asking them to cover for other people.”
“Well, it is their job.”
He massaged the back of his neck with one hand. “Everyone’s worked really hard today. The guys deserve a break.”
Ketra stared at him for a minute then finished grooming her gelding.
“You were right when you said you can outride any guy on this ranch,” he said.
“You shouldn’t have doubted me.”
“Well, now…,” Leaning on the pitchfork, he shook a finger at her, “…if I recall correctly a certain little lady wasn’t looking so good on a particular sorrel the day I arrived. In fact, she spent quite a bit of time on the ground.”
“I’d like to see you try to negotiate that ornery ole nag around the barrels.”
“Well you know what they say about hindsight.” The peculiar expression on his face made her wonder what he was thinking about.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out. “You understated yourself, though. Not only can you outride them, you outrope them, too.”
She snickered. “I can pretty much outdo anything with this group.”
Trevor’s brows rose. “You’re a cocky little thing, aren’t you? And as much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right.” He smiled at her before resuming his clean-up. “You know, when I first got here, I thought I’d have to be rescuing you all the time.”
She frowned. “That wasn’t my best performance.”
They tended their chores for several minutes in silence. When he moved to the next stall he paused. “I knew you rodeoed, but I assumed you were a barrel racer.”
“I was. But I was a better heeler.”
“You were a team roper?”
“A champion team roper.”
He remembered seeing the words “world champion” when he had researched her. But again, he’d assumed the title had been earned for barrel racing. “I stand corrected. Why’d you quit?”
“I lost my partner.”
“Who was your partner.”
“Kenny.” After a long pause she added. “It’s a guy’s sport anyway.”
“According to who? You’re way better than most guys.”
“Yeah, well, that made me hugely unpopular.”
She hoped he hadn’t detected the sadness in her voice. She peeked at him to see if he’d comment. He didn’t speak but watched her while she put her horse into its stall. Then it hit her.
She marched back down the breezeway to the other side of the barn. “I never told you I rodeoed.”
He frowned. “No? I’m pretty sure you did.” He walked past her, untied his horse from the hitching post and led it into its now clean stall.
“When?” she demanded with hands planted on her hips.
He closed the stall door and pushed the wheelbarrow to the next stall.
“I don’t remember…exactly when.” He turned and grinned. “Does it matter?”
“Rocky told you, didn’t he?”
“No, Little Miss Smarty Pants, Rocky did not tell me.” He tossed a clump of urine-soaked shavings from the second stall into the wheelbarrow.
Her eyes bored into him while she waited for him to explain. He didn’t. He bent, scooped, dumped. Bend, scoop, dump. Bend, scoop, dump. Finally, he turned and braced himself on the pitchfork. “If you must know, I did a little research.”
“What kind of research?”
“When I first got here. I looked you up on the computer. Fascinating stuff you can find out on the computer. Pretty much anything about anybody.”
“Why?”
“Well, that’s what computers were designed to do.”
She drew closer, narrowing her eyes. “Why did you look me up, smart ass?”
He closed the gap between them. “Call it curiosity.”
“I told you the whole story about…Kyle and you…already knew?” She slapped his bicep. “You just let me go on and on? Why? So you could pretend to feel sorry for me so I’d let you take advantage of my weakness? How dare you!” Using both fists she pummeled his chest, pounding as hard as she could.
He grabbed her shoulders and lowered his face to hers. In a very quiet, stern voice, he said, “I would never take advantage of you.” She continued her efforts to punch him until he squeezed her upper arms. “Listen to me. I assure you I knew nothing about Kyle. I knew you were hiding something. That’s all. I swear it.”
She clamped her teeth and tried to pull away. He lessened the pressure on her shoulders but did not release his hold. Her nostrils flared with each intake of air. On one level, the level housing her heart and the desire to be loved, she believed him. On another, a lower one, the level devoted to storing anger and hating men, she did not.
As soon as he dropped his hands, she whirled to flee. He followed her, matching his stride to hers. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m glad you told me about Kyle.”
She stopped. He stopped, no doubt waiting for some kind of response from her. “I promise, I will never tell another living soul about it. Your secret is safe with me.”
She removed another pitchfork from the closet next to the tack room and walked to her side of the barn, stopping at the first stall. On her heels, he barred the door so she couldn’t slide it open.
“I’ll clean the stalls tonight. You were a huge help to me. You deserve a break.”
She strained against his greater strength to slide the door open.
“Ketra…please let me do this for you.”
She gave up struggling. “Why?” She hated that her voice betrayed her desire to cry.
He sighed. “Because, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I happen to like to you.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “And I really care about you.”
“Well, I’m sure there’s some kind of pill you can take to cure you of that.”
“I don’t want to be cured.” He captured her chin in his filthy hand. He was about to kiss her, when the sound of crunching gravel caused them both to still. The approaching vehicle didn’t stop at the main house or veer toward the bunkhouses. Trevor’s hand fell away. He stepped into the middle of the barn, no doubt intent on protecting her. He froze when a voice called from the other side of the open door.
“Ketra Weston? Today’s your lucky day.”
Ketra gasped. Her pitchfork clattered to the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ketra ran into the yard. “Kenny!”
Trevor followed, stopping in the open doorway as Ketra launched herself into the arms of a stunning brunette. The woman with curly hair like Ketra’s, though not as long, stood several inches taller. The sapphire eyes were identical. They clung to each other and spun in circles.
“Oh my God! Kenny, why are you here?”
“Mom thought you needed moral support. I volunteered to come see my baby sister.”
“I just talked to her. She didn’t say you were coming.”
“I didn’t decide to come until after you talked.”
After another embrace, Ketra’s
sibling introduced a slender, dark-haired man with dark eyes, wearing khaki slacks, a forest green polo shirt and brown loafers. He witnessed the exchange from several feet away. Trevor guessed him to be about thirty years old
“Ket, this is Marco…my…fiancé.”
Marco must have been filled in on Ketra’s history, because when she retreated slightly at his approach, he stopped and lowered his outstretched hand.
“Fiancé?”
The innocent word sounded strained out of Ketra’s mouth.
The dark haired woman nodded, dangling her left hand in front of Ketra’s face. A too-large, if you asked him, diamond glittered on her finger. “He’s the most wonderful man on the planet. You’re going to love him.”
An almost tangible thread of apprehension spanned the distance between the threesome. Ketra eventually rubbed her palms on her jeans and extended a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
After a very brief hand clasp, Ketra stepped closer to her sister. She examined the brilliant solitaire in a platinum setting.
“Hi. I’m Trevor.” He extended a hand first to Marco then to Kennedy.
“I’m Kennedy. Ketra’s sister. And this is Marco Lombardi.”
“Nice to meet you.” Kennedy’s scrutiny of his every move grated on his nerves. No doubt she worried about his close proximity to her little sister.
“How long are you staying?” Ketra inquired.
“Well, that depends.” Kennedy looped her arm through Ketra’s and steered them toward the interior of the barn. Trevor wondered if she wanted a private talk with her sister and was trying to separate Ketra from the men.
“Marco’s never been to the Grand Canyon, so we decided to take a road trip. But if you need me to stay here with you…because…well, we’ll stay.”
When Marco trailed after the ladies to the barn, Trevor joined him. They kept silent and a discreet distance as they followed down the aisle of Ketra’s wing of the barn. Kennedy opened the door of the stall housing the appaloosa and stepped inside.
“So your sister’s a horse woman, too?” Trevor directed the question to Ketra when he and Marco stopped outside the stall.
“She used to be.” Ketra stuck her tongue out at Kennedy.
“Used to be?” Marco asked. “You haven’t seen her ride in a long time then.”
Kennedy and Ketra shared a conspiratorial smile then giggled.
“Kenny was one of the best until she turned to the dark side.” Ketra emphasized the last words with an evil timbre.
Trevor’s brows pulled together as he looked from one sister to the other.
“The dark side?” Marco asked.
“Yup. I’m not even sure what she does now is considered riding in some places.”
Kennedy pulled the stall door closed behind her and stood next to her fiancé. “Marco doesn’t ride, so this is all new to him.” Turning to Marco, Kennedy explained, “Everyone in my family rides western. Except me. I ride English now.”
“Dressage?” Trevor guessed
“My main focus is jumping,” Kennedy said.
“I didn’t know there was a difference,” Marco admitted.
Ketra’s mouth fell open. “You’re getting married to a guy who doesn’t ride?”
Kennedy laughed, hugging Marco’s waist. “Yeah. Pretty scary, huh?”
Ketra opened her mouth to speak but shut it again, then shook her head.
“I don’t care. He’s the most amazing man.” She kissed him, full on opened mouth, tongue-action kiss.
“Oh, my God.” Ketra bent down to examine the appaloosa’s hoof.
Trevor chuckled. “Well, I’m sure he’ll learn.”
“It’s been almost two years now and I’ve managed to avoid them so far,” Marco said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Ketra said.
“I don’t care, Ket.” Kennedy smiled the smile of a woman in love. “He’s totally supportive of my career. It doesn’t matter if he never gets on top of a horse. It’s not important.”
Rocky approached the group, his smile widening as he drew nearer. “Well, well, if it isn’t old home week. I wondered whose car that was.” He hugged Kennedy and shook Marco’s hand after being introduced. “Fiancé? Well now. It’s about time we started the next generation of beautiful women. Come on up to the house and get settled in. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Ketra, go and get cleaned up. We’ll have a celebration in honor of their engagement. Trevor, you’ll join us?”
“We don’t want to impose,” Kennedy said. “We’re going to shack up with Kettie for a couple of days.”
“Nonsense,” Rocky replied. “My house is way bigger than Ket’s and I have more rooms, so you won’t have to…shack up.” He speared Marco with a piercing glare, telegraphing his intent to install them in separate bedrooms. “You’ll be much more comfortable in your own rooms.” He stressed the last words, evoking a teasing grin from Ketra.
Kennedy and Marco exchanged a glance as Rocky slapped a hand on each of their backs.
“I’ll back the car up there and unload then,” Marco said with resignation.
Kennedy scrunched up her face at Ketra when Rocky couldn’t see her. Ketra shrugged, a smug smile of sisterly affection still adorning her face. Fighting the urge to laugh, Trevor turned his back on the trio to hide his amusement. Apparently there would be no nookie for the lovers on this leg of their journey.
Rocky slung his arm across Kennedy’s shoulders. “It’s so good to see you, Kenny girl. Been a long time. How’s your momma? And why didn’t she tell me you were engaged?”
They continued their conversation on their way outside. Trevor resumed mucking out the stalls on Ketra’s side of the barn, keeping an eye on her as she stood staring after her sister.
“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“Forever.” She twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.
Trevor wondered how the news of her sister’s engagement would affect her. “Obviously good looks runs in the family.”
“I guess.”
Trevor’s brows shot up “What? No smart-ass response?”
She whirled on him, hands on her hips. “What do you want from me?”
Unsure how to handle the mood swing, he shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
She retrieved the pitchfork from the floor, opened the stall opposite him and attacked the manure clean-up with undue vengeance.
“I’ll clean the stalls. Go spend time with your sister.”
She didn’t answer. Nor did she comply. They finished cleaning their own respective stalls and moved in unison to the next one down the row. “So…Kenny…,” Trevor finally broke the uncomfortable silence, “…she’s the roping partner?”
“Was.”
“Why’d you lose her?”
“She’s older than me. She graduated.”
“Did you look for a new partner your senior year?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Like I said, female ropers are hugely unpopular.”
“I take it there weren’t any other female ropers?”
“Not any good ones.”
Okay, Donaldson, now what? Unwilling to be drawn into conversation, he figured she must be getting used to the idea of having a brother-in-law. He let the conversation lapse.
A few minutes later, Kennedy entered, a bucket of beer bottles on ice swinging from her hand. She set the bucket down in the middle of the breezeway and found another pitchfork in the storage closet. “Where shall I start?”
Ketra continued her reckless poop scooping, spilling more back on the floor than into the wheelbarrow. “You don’t have to help, Ken. You just got here. Go unpack. Visit with Rocky. Spend time with your fiancé.”
Kennedy opened a beer. “I want to help. Someone’s do
ing my chores at home, so I might as well help here instead. Besides, I don’t know how I’d make it through a day if I didn’t have manure to shovel.” She handed the beer to Trevor and opened another.
Trevor smiled. “I like her already.” He swigged the cold beer and nodded his thanks to Kennedy.
“You like anything in a skirt,” Ketra said.
“Since I haven’t seen a single skirt since I got here, why would you assume that?” Trevor leaned on the pitchfork, favoring her with an intense glare.
Ketra ignored him.
He turned to Kennedy. She rolled her eyes and opened the stall next to him.
“So…,” Kennedy set her open bottle on the ledge of the stall, “how long have you two been dating?”
“What?” came the unison response.
“Sounds like an old married couple bickering.” She bent to scoop up a pile of manure. Trevor didn’t miss the smile on her face.
“We most certainly do not,” Ketra said.
Trevor found Kennedy’s statement disturbing. Was his affection that obvious?
“Well, my mistake then. Kettie, you want a beer?” She dumped the loaded pitchfork into the back of the ATV and took a long drink of her beer.
“You hate beer,” Ketra said.
“I used to. But Marco loves it, so I’m learning to like it too.”
“Well, isn’t that nice?” Ketra said.
“I like him already, too.” Trevor raised his bottle in a toast.
Kennedy leaned against the doorframe where he and Ketra shoveled manure. “Ket, I know this is a shock. Last time we talked I told you I was dating someone and now I’m engaged. But, it all happened so fast and unexpectedly. For two years we’ve been dating on and off. It’s hard when I’m off competing in parts unknown and we don’t see each other very much. Then one day, we’re back together and bam, he pops the question.” She paused for breath. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I want you to be happy for me. I really love, Marco. He’s a terrific guy.”
On Common Ground Page 18
