Weston's Trouble (Saddles & Second Chances Book 3)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “I don’t wish to cross a line, Sammie, but are you planning to sell?” His weathered features looked older.

  Crossing her arms over her waist, she could only be honest with the man who had dedicated most of his life to Tanner Ranch. “Right now, I don’t see any other way, but I’m willing to have an open mind. This seems like a lot to take on and I’m a fish out of water.”

  He dragged off his hat and held it against his chest. Several seconds passed as if he grappled with what he wanted to say. “Look, I might not be your daddy, but if I were, I’d tell you that you have the Tanner blood running through your veins. There ain’t been one Tanner that didn’t have the magic touch when it comes to running this place. I watched you with the horses and I see it, even if you don’t. Just had to say what was on my mind.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you, Braise. I can’t deny that this feels like home here, on this land, where I grew up.”

  “I’ll go gather up the hands now.” He placed his hat back on his head and left her alone.

  Sammie turned her attention to the gelding in the first stall. “You’re a beauty too.”

  Although feeling that she appeared confident on the outside, Sammie was very nervous on the inside. Even when dealing with new clients in her business she felt her nerves before a deal was signed. Changing the way things took place on the ranch wouldn’t be an easy task. It appeared things were relaxed—too relaxed—over the last few years. She was certain some hands would resist the changes, and some might appreciate that they wanted to keep their jobs. To do that, they’d have to work together.

  Another factor that had her worried was that she’d be working closely with Weston. She couldn’t even be near him without getting wobbly and weak-kneed, so how would she handle seeing him every day? How would she make everyone here see her as a leader and not a woman who had very little ranch business under her belt. Sure, she knew horses, knew what it took to run things, at least the top layer of things, but livestock and crops were different. She’d have to rely on Braise, and the hands, if they decided to go that path.

  Reaching for her cell from her back pocket, she pulled up Wes’s contact and texted…

  “Meet you in staff quarters in fifteen.”

  She turned to the horses. “I’ll see you later.” She gave each of them one last nuzzle, then headed for the quarters herself.

  The building needed a facelift, but for now, renovations weren’t at the top of her priority list. It was a livable space with enough rooms for the staff, although many were empty with the staff changes.

  When she stepped into the kitchen she came to a sudden stop, frowning. Dishes were piled in one sink and the lingering smell of bacon assaulted her nostrils. The evidence of an early morning breakfast lingered in a cast iron pan sitting on the stove. She swiped her finger down the greasy stove and sighed. This was unacceptable.

  She opened the refrigerator and peered in, wishing she hadn’t. Beer lined one shelf and something mysterious sat on the other. Using only the tips of her fingers, she grabbed the end of the plastic covering on what could be moldy cheese and tossed it into the trash, swiping her hands down the thighs of her jeans.

  From an early age, she was taught the rule that a person cleaned up after themselves, but if she was going to be hanging out in the staff quarters for any time, she needed to be able to breathe. However, this would be the first and last time she tidied up after the hands. The men would need to learn to take more pride in their home and she’d make sure to remind them of the importance during the staff meeting.

  The water was filling the sink and she was scrubbing the skillet with a sponge when she heard heavy footsteps behind her. She turned, half expecting to see one of the hands, but it was Wes who strolled into the kitchen, looking good enough to nibble, but she’d keep her teeth to herself. His worn Stetson was in place, pulled low over his eyes and his jaw whiskered that added to his sexiness. She didn’t mind a bit of facial fuzz. She’d go out on a limb and guess he could shave in the morning and by noon he was sporting a thin beard. The checked button down fit nicely over his broad shoulders and the jeans looked like they were custom made for his thick thighs.

  “What are you doing?” He pushed his hat back on his forehead.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m washing dishes.”

  “First lesson, Sam, you’re not supposed to clean up after the hands.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re the new boss, at least for now. They need to see you as such.”

  “Well then, if they see us both cleaning maybe that’ll help.” She tossed a clean dish towel against his chest and he caught it before it dropped to the floor.

  He smirked, but didn’t argue. He joined her at the sink and she at once rethought having his help with the task. Being a man standing well over six foot, two hundred pounds of lean muscle, the space suddenly became too small. His elbow brushed her arm and liquid heat spread through her veins. Inhaling deeply, his leather, sandalwood scent mingled with the scent of dish soap. She hated that her inner thighs trembled.

  Taking a renewed energy in scrubbing the grease from the iron, she hoped to hide the shaking in her hands.

  “Will Lucas be joining us this morning?” he asked.

  “No.” She didn’t want to get into this with Wes.

  “Did you tell him I’d be helping in running things?”

  This question was expected. “No.”

  His heavy sigh drove right through her. “How long do you think you can keep this from him?”

  She paused in her scouring to look up at him. “Having a conversation with him, especially one about his beloved ranch, is like wrestling with a lion over a piece of meat. I need a shot of something very strong before I jump into that battle.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t like feeling that I’m going behind his back.”

  Scrubbing again, she shrugged. “And I don’t like that things are this bad.”

  “Are you trying to scrub off the iron, darlin’?”

  Realizing that he was right, the pan was as clean as it was going to get, she handed it over and started on a plate.

  “I wanted to let you know that I’ve asked a couple of my hands to help out here for a few weeks. They’re loyal, hard workers and know their way around a ranch. I’ve also told my brothers that I’ll be taking a few days off so I can dedicate myself to helping out here.” He tossed the towel over one shoulder.

  She brought her chin up. “But…can you do that?”

  He smiled. “I’m the boss, darlin’. And my brothers can step up when necessary. I just hired on a few new boys who are working out and I can catch up on security business in the evening after Brie is asleep. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

  Knowing she could count on him touched a part of her she’d locked away. She didn’t want to depend upon anyone, especially someone who made her feel things she hadn’t felt in so long. It was all unnerving, and yet, there came a point a woman had to allow some control to slip and this was one of those times. He was here to help her, Tanner Ranch, and she could never put into words how grateful she was for his dedication. “This means a lot to me, Wes.”

  “It’s the least I can do for Lucas.”

  Did he intentionally make it clear that he wasn’t doing it for her? She didn’t blame him. He’d stepped up many times to help her father. “You and I haven’t talked about the past.” She handed him the sudsy plate. “Maybe we need to clear the air. I—”

  Voices coming up the hall pushed her words to the back of her throat. What had she been about to do? Divulge her deepest, darkest secrets, that’s what. And she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for something like that. Wes made her forget that she hadn’t shared with anyone, outside of her therapist, about the night with Logan.

  She’d have to be careful because telling him a little, meant telling him all. If she jumped over the cliff, she needed to be sure she had a safety net.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  �
��I think the meeting yesterday turned out to be productive.”

  “I agree.” Weston leaned against the barn wall and watched as Sammie raked the straw from an empty stall. She bent over slightly, lifting her firm behind in the tight-fitting jeans higher. He needed to do something, but he was frozen to the spot on the bale of hay.

  “Better than I thought it would.” She set the rake aside and lifted the hose off the hook, unwound and stretched it.

  Weston couldn’t wrap his brain around what they’d discussed in the meeting because every cell in his body stuck to the fact that Sammie looked so much like she had back in her twenties that it struck him in the center of his chest. He’d watched her pile her hair high on her head in a messy bun and soft tendrils had fallen to brush against her rosy cheeks. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, and she didn’t need any. She looked young and fresh, vibrant. The bright blue tank she wore showed off her nice breasts and flat stomach. His eyes followed her shapely bottom and he growled under his breath. Her long legs went on for miles and disappeared in dusty, worn boots—not the same pair she wore while broken down on the side of the road. He could almost forget that she was a city girl now, but what he saw before him was a country girl getting dirty.

  “Want some help?” he offered.

  “No. I need to get used to doing this again. I told Braise that I would be handling it from now on, including all the business deals. First thing up, I need to speak to Blaney about what he’s charging for a shipment of feed.” She brought her chin up and looked at Weston. “If he can’t play fair, then we’ll find a supplier who can. I also think it would be cheaper to transport the bags ourselves.”

  “Welcome to Colton where the likes of Marshall Reed can make it difficult for ranchers. Once he bought the company, prices went up. You have to take into consideration how much gas you’ll be using, and if you have a big enough truck to go get the load because you’ll need to buy in bulk.”

  She squinted. “Marshal Reed? Is that—”

  “Yeah. The one who likes when people are down so he can swoop in and buy everything that means anything to them.”

  “Wow, I’ve been gone for a while.” She swiped her gloved hand across her cheek, leaving a smudge of dirt.

  He didn’t want to spend another second discussing the likes of Reed. “That’s mighty responsible of you to take on this chore. The hands will see you’re not afraid to go elbow to elbow with them.”

  “I won’t ask anyone to do anything I wouldn’t do myself.” She pulled the hose to the first stall, the mare scratched the ground in excitement and her eyes lit up, like Weston did when Sammie was around, minus the pawing. Pushing the hose through the slats of the stall, she squeezed the nozzle and sprayed. Once the trough was full, she dropped the hose behind her. “I can’t wait to ride you, pretty lady. I hear your name is Louisa.” She scratched behind the mare’s ear and the horse whinnied as if in response.

  The exchange did something to Weston. What he wouldn’t give to have that sweet affection directed toward him. Sammie had a mystical way of wrapping cowboys and horses around her fingers. Just like in the staff meeting, every hand was sitting on the edge of their seats, eyes wide, ears perked as they listened to her talk on everything from changes to the way they did things to keeping the kitchen clean. He half expected the men to jump up and start polishing the silverware before she finished talking. Weston had a feeling she could have asked them to shave their heads bald and they would have hopped in line, ready to do her bidding. That was great, but he hoped the men listened up, really good, because the new rules were in place to get Tanner Ranch up to speed. It wouldn’t be easy and they had a long haul ahead of them. To get ahead, they would need to run business how they used to…breeding livestock and horses. Planting crops. Earning profit.

  Now, Weston felt like a young pup hot on Sammie’s tail. He realized working this close to her wouldn’t be easy either, but when he signed up, he didn’t realize she would be working next to him in clothing that showed off luscious curves. He should just admit it, she could wear a potato sack and he’d still have an issue with his dick misbehaving.

  After the horses were watered, she then concentrated on feeding them. She made her way to each stall, coming back to fill the bucket as needed and all the while, Weston enjoyed watching. Sure, he felt guilty just watching, but she told him that she wanted to do it so he let her—as if he could ‘let’ her do anything. She had enough determination to share with all her hands. However, he needed to move before he grew so hard he would break.

  “How are thing over at Second Chances? You Jericho boys still breaking hearts?” she asked after he grabbed the rake and pushed around dirty straw.

  He laughed. “Well, two are out of commission. Roman and Penn are married. I haven’t checked recently, but it seems Hugh and Urban have been behaving themselves.”

  She gave him a suspicious look over her shoulders. “There has never been a Jericho that behaved himself. These women must be strong and spectacular to snag Roman and Penn.”

  “They are. They’re both great with Brie and have helped a lot, more than I’d ever ask. Roman and Pippa are expecting their first child soon and Penn and Harley probably won’t be too far behind.”

  “How about you, Wes? Are you envious? You sidestepping the bite of the love bug?” Her grin socked him in the gut.

  “I told you before. Brie keeps me walking the line.”

  “I bet that pretty red-head I saw sitting with you at the diner would like to change your relationship status.”

  “You saw that, huh?”

  “I do have eyes, cowboy. I’m not surprised. You used to have buckle bunnies so in love with you they couldn’t see straight.” She laughed.

  “Rena is only a friend. I’m not rich enough for her tastes.”

  “You keep singing that tune.”

  “What can I do to help, besides discuss my lack of a relationship?” He needed to do anything besides entertain the conversation,

  “Grab the fresh hay.”

  He grabbed a bale from the large stack against the wall and cut the twine, but he let her make the rounds to each stall. She was smiling the entire time, enjoying the chore, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. Sammie gathered up armfuls, scattering each horse’s share, becoming their best friend quickly.

  “Good to see you remember how to handle the horses, Seesaw. Bet you don’t handle anything but suits back in Chicago.”

  She snorted. “I can take myself out of the country, but I guess the country can’t be taken out of me.” She winked and the simple act triggered an avalanche of emotions in him. “When it comes to the horses I don’t think I’ve loved anything more. I can’t believe daddy sold most of them.”

  “So, you do appreciate ranch living.” He laughed and helped her scatter hay in the last stall, mostly because he wanted to be near her. She didn’t see him standing there and backed out, bumping her bottom against his hip. His zipper stretched and his chest tightened.

  “Oops. Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed bright red. Their gazes met. The air grew hotter and he wasn’t sure if she was the one who stepped forward or he had, or some unforeseen force brought them together, but within a breath, their bodies came together and his fingers pushed into her hair, tugging the silken mass from the hairband. The soft tendrils spilled down around her shoulders and brushed his forearms, conjuring images of her naked, straddling him, his fists in her hair. A layer of condensation on his old truck windows as country music played from the speakers. Those were the days.

  Her chin lifted and her tongue came out to sweep across the thick, pink curve of her bottom lip. He was more than ready to dive in, sample her like a dessert, but she blinked and something took shape in the depths of her blue gaze.

  “What?”

  “I-I…can’t do this…”

  “You can’t?” His lungs ached.

  She gasped. “I’m guessing that’s not you caressing my ankle.” She looked down. “Hello, cutie.” S
ammie picked up the black and white barn cat who’d been using her leg as a rubbing post.

  Damn. Weston had every intention of making a move on her until the feline had to go and ruin his plans. Leave it to a furry ball to wreck his chance at finally kissing her.

  “What’s your name?” The cat meowed and nuzzled his head against her chest.

  Yeah, he knew exactly how the little fellow felt. If Weston had his way, he’d be touching that spot on her body too, with his tongue.

  She brought her chin up looking at him as if she could read his thoughts. Her eyes were dazzling and the cat jumped from her hold. Weston took a step forward, hoping he and Sammie could resume what they’d almost started, but instead she strolled past him. He frowned and rubbed his forehead. What had he been thinking anyway? He wasn’t and that was the problem.

  “He must be hungry. Look at him staring at me. He wants something bad.”

  Were they still talking about the cat because it seemed as if she described him.

  “I’ll have to grab him scraps,” she said.

  Yeah, she meant the cat, he hoped.

  “Weston, it’s about lunch time. Would you like to come up and have something?”

  He blinked. “Something?” His minds took off in a hundred directions.

  “Food? Bessie is cooking. I wouldn’t tempt you with my terrible grub.”

  Shit! Again, they were talking about something far from what he was thinking.

  He started to open his mouth to turn down the invitation, but his stomach growled as if to remind him that he was hungry, and not just for food. “Sure.” It should be easy to stay focused with Lucas nearby.

  They walked out into the hot sun and he squinted against the bright rays. “Beautiful day. Are things any better between you and Lucas yet?” He needed to know what he was stepping into.

  “Has hell frozen over?” she muttered and started for the house.

  He took off toward her, but kept a few paces behind because he couldn’t imagine anything better than watching the rhythmic sway of her flared hips. His mouth salivated and his palms ached. Although she needed a good spanking for leaving him years ago, he wanted to grasp her ass and drive himself—