by Stephy Smith
“He make it rough on you?” Cheyenne leaned forward in her chair. Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh, he tried. I told him to change his attitude, or I’d make it rough on him.” Shawnee folded her arms on the table and raised her brows.
“You didn’t! Shawnee!” Cheyenne covered her open mouth. “That man owns the place. What else did you tell him?”
“I told him if he came into my office and treated me that way again, I’d make things miserable for him . . . Crap! Owner! Why didn’t someone tell me he was the owner? I hope I still have a job tomorrow.” A lump caught in Shawnee’s throat, and she chewed on her bottom lip. She slapped her open hands on the table. “That’s just flipping fantastic. What have I done?”
“He wouldn’t wait to fire you. He’s a right now sort of guy. Just don’t think he forgets. Word is he doesn’t.” Cheyenne bent across the table. She paused before she released a full-blown laugh.
“What’s so funny, Cheyenne?” Shawnee leaned closer to Cheyenne and glared into her eyes.
“Emory told me he likes your spunk. Now I know why. He must have set up the whole thing to see how you’d handle pressure. I heard he made out the first check and deliberately left off the sixty hours.” Shawnee’s eyes followed Cheyenne to her bedroom. She heard Cheyenne’s soft laughter through the door.
“To heck with that man. He won’t get away with this.” She slammed her palm on the counter top. She flipped the light off and walked out of the room.
The whole company set me up. I’ll get all of them back for this little prank. They’ll all get a taste of cow pie when I’m done.
Shawnee walked to her room and laid across her king-size bed. Her dreams were haunted by the need to get even, combined with the hopes of touching the rigid muscles concealed beneath his cowboy garb. His brilliant eyes taunted her restless thoughts. Another sleepless night greeted her with fitful dreams.
Chapter Five
Shawnee walked into the office at six in the morning. She dropped her purse on Carla’s desk. Carla jumped at the heavy thud and raised her eyes to Shawnee. “I’m afraid to ask how the rest of yesterday went. The look on your face tells me it wasn’t good.”
“Oh, it was fine as far as work went. I’m upset. No one bothered to tell me that rude Mr. Emory Creek owns this place. You let me stand up and give him a piece of my mind without benefit of a warning.” Shawnee’s hands held onto the edge of Carla’s desk.
“Emory was proud of you. He said he wished everyone handled conflict like you did.” Carla’s face eased into a grin. “I’ll tell you this; he isn’t a hard man to please. Yet he doesn’t hand out compliments to those who don’t earn them, either.”
Shawnee pulled her purse from the desk and unlocked the door to her office. Carla brought a few files and laid them on the desk.
Shawnee twisted around and followed Carla to the outer office. “How long have you worked here?”
“Since Emory bought the place. Why?” Carla’s curious stare asked more than Shawnee wanted to admit.
“How well do you know him?”
It was her turn to start getting even. She would dig to the depths of the earth to find dirt on Emory. First, she had to know if he was the type to take a good-hearted joke. He was the one who tricked her into believing he was nothing more than a mere hired hand. Carla would be the one to provide his dirty little secrets. She bit her bottom lip.
“He’s my brother.” Carla smiled. Shawnee’s stomach took a quick tumble.
“No wonder you think he’s a sweetheart,” Shawnee whispered returning to her office.
Shawnee opened the files and went to work on the books. A light knock on the door snapped her head up. Emory Creek filled the doorway.
“Come on in.” Her words hung in the air. She lowered her eyes to the paperwork spread in front of her.
The click of the door startled Shawnee. She raised her head to the man strolling across the floor. He relaxed in the chair in front of her desk. His eyes gleamed with the promise of an apology. Her chin raised, and she slammed the file shut with a loud thud. The pounding in her heart beat in her ears. Her mind raced as she pursed her lips in fear of blurting out something uncalled for. His nearness wreaked havoc with her emotions, with threats of destroying her anger which she wasn’t willing to give in to just yet.
“Shawnee…” His liquid blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Don’t Shawnee me.” She stood, towered above the desk. “How could you walk in here and treat me the way you did yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me you owned this place? And why did you make everyone else take a vow of silence to protect you? I don’t like being played with, and I assure you, it will never happen again.”
Shawnee drew in a deep breath and raised a hand to smooth the wrinkles from her brow. The sweet spicy aroma of his aftershave floated in the air. Her heart melted into a pool of fascination. How could he smell so good and be such a bully?
“I have to know how my employees handle stress. You were . . . well, let’s just say, quite sophisticated in handling the situation. I would’ve invited anyone else to the work alley to roll on the ground, and pounded their face, if it’d been me. I don’t have much patience when it comes to office work. These cowboys working here aren’t always pleasant to deal with.” Emory reached for Shawnee’s shaking hands. Electrifying jolts ran up her arms at his touch. She jerked back but his grip tightened.
“Get out of my office, Emory Creek. I have work to do, unless I’ve been fired. I do the books; that’s what I get paid for.” Shawnee pulled from his grasp.
Emory walked to the door and left it open. Shawnee stared after him until he disappeared. She returned to her work still shaking, not from anger, but from his touch. The vibrations radiated up her arms and sent mixed emotions floating through her body, emotions she never encountered before.
Shawnee opened the file on her desk. It might as well have been a blank piece of paper, considering her ability to concentrate after Emory’s visit. She stood and walked to the sliver window to peer out and think.
She pulled the curtain back and spotted Emory. He sat a horse well, so relaxed as if he were sitting in his recliner after a hard day of work. All the men eyed him with respect. Her mind tried to imagine what his sexy, deep voice said to the group. With a nod of his head, the group dismissed and strutted in different directions. Even Cheyenne smiled as she walked away.
Emory reined the horse around; he looked to the window and caught Shawnee’s stare. He dipped his hat with a smile and nudged his horse into a walk. Her eyes followed the sway of his hips molded to the movement of the saddle. She took a step back and caught her breath, the beat of her heart storming in her chest. His brilliant smile etched in her memory. The sweet spicy smell of him rushed back to her and sent tingles across her skin.
Her physical attraction for this man twisted in her gut. She licked her lips with longing. A twitch in her fingers beckoned to caress his smooth-shaven face. Overwhelming heat burned within her core as she gazed at the taut muscles of his thighs when he nudged the horse forward. She branded his bronzed image in her mind.
Pulling in a deep breath, she walked back to her desk to slump down in the coolness of the leather chair.
Concentrating on her task was more strenuous than the job itself. Shawnee worked on a simple file for two hours. She had to pull herself back from the fantasyland she’d drifted into with the tall, muscular cowboy at her side.
Lunch hour hit with a roar from the crowd in the hall. She planned to wait until the people thinned before she made her way to the café and avoid a possible run-in with Emory.
“Did you kick Emory out of your office this morning?” Cheyenne’s low, amused voice floated across the room.
Shawnee jumped. Her heart raced a moment as if she’d been caught touching something forbidden. She shook her head and glanced up at her sister, trying to be the picture of innocence.
“You bet your boots I did.” Shawnee smiled.
“Are you trying to get fir
ed? Why don’t you leave the man alone?” Cheyenne’s wide eyes danced across Shawnee’s face.
“He came to my office, and I was rather busy. I want to do my job and at the end of the day go home. He was hindering my work, so I asked him to leave.”
“You didn’t ask him, Shaw, you told him to leave.” Cheyenne’s laughter filtered from beneath her cupped hand.
“You better get back to work before you get us both in trouble.” Shawnee’s playfulness turned up Cheyenne’s lips.
Shawnee shifted her attention back to the files. Her mind didn’t follow. She paced behind the desk a few minutes and returned to the chair. Every attempt she made to shake free of Emory’s sparkling blue eyes turned into a failed fiasco.
Carla’s knock on the desk brought Shawnee back to reality. “I know you’re deep in thought, but I need your signature on this file.”
Shawnee could feel the heat rise to her face when Carla’s words snapped her out of the memory of Emory’s visit to her office. “Sure, what is it?”
“It’s to close out a file on an ex-employee.”
“Which one? I noticed there has been a tremendous turnover lately. What’s going on in the back?” Shawnee scrawled her signature on the paper.
“The cowboys come and go quite often. Nothing has changed back there except for bodies.” the gray haired woman retreated to her office.
Carla brought a sandwich and drink from the café while Shawnee stood behind the counter printing and signing the checks for the men. Once she returned, Shawnee carried her lunch to her desk and ate in silence until the men in the line swarmed the outer office. She tossed her last couple of bites and swallowed what she had in her mouth before making her way back to help dispense of the waiting crowd.
Emory stood at the end of the line.
“I don’t have a check for you. Carla?” Shawnee glanced back to the empty desk. Why is it every time Emory shows up his sister disappears? Are they conspiring against me?
“I, uh, well.” Emory lowered his head and then raised it with confidence. He shifted his feet and took a deep breath. “Would you like to have supper with me tonight?”
“How about if you come over and have supper at my house?” Shawnee blurted out the words before she could stop them. With Cheyenne as a safeguard, she would feel a little more comfortable about the situation. She removed her hands from the counter and held onto a shelf below. She needed something to brace herself when he declined her invitation. Rejection was just that; no matter how unintentional the invitation, it would still sting.
“That sounds real good. What are we having?” his eyes sparkled with amusement. Her heart nosedived into the pit of her stomach. Good grief, think of something he won’t want to eat, but what?
“I thought I would whip up a bug salad to begin with. Followed by skunk legs smothered in cream gravy and for dessert, worms in dirt cake.” She blurted out her menu.
“You don’t really eat that stuff do you?” Sweat popped from his brow, and his eyes widened.
“Well yeah, best eatin’ in town. Give me time to catch the bugs and dig the worms. I think Cheyenne got the skunk when she was comin’ home the other night.” Shawnee couldn’t wipe the grin from her face.
“I’ll be there. Should I bring something? Maybe a small bottle of cat milk or something? Oh, and what time?”
Shawnee clenched tight to the wooden ledge below. “Around sevenish, if we get out of here before then. It’s kind of hard to see the right kind of bugs in the dark.”
“We’ll get out before then; I can make that happen, you know. I have a special bond with the owner.” His eyes sparkled with delight.
Shawnee shook her head and walked to the door of her office. What just happened? I can’t believe he’s coming to the house to eat. I need to find out where Carla’s hiding place is when he shows up; he makes me do things haphazardly.
Her eyes burned from the glare of the computer screen. When Carla stepped out of the file room, Shawnee stood. “I’m going to talk to Cheyenne for a moment,”
She left the building and headed to the rows of pens. The bellows of cattle and pungent stench of manure met her with each step. Mason pointed in Cheyenne’s direction. Shawnee walked toward her sister. Before opening the gate, her twin turned to clear the alley, then rode her horse and stopped it in front of Shawnee. She jumped to the ground and ran to her sister.
“Will you and Mason come to supper tonight?” Shawnee crossed her fingers behind her back. “I already asked Mason and he said it was up to you.”
“Sure. What’s going on?” Cheyenne’s eyes twinkled.
“Emory is coming. I need a buffer zone,” Shawnee bit her lip.
“What’s for supper?”
“Fruit salad, chicken fried steak in cream gravy and chocolate cake with coconut pecan icing. I gave Emory mom’s version of the menu.”
“When are you going to open your eyes?” Cheyenne pushed her hat back on her head.
“What’s that supposed to mean? My eyes are open. How was I supposed to know he would come to supper with that list of options?”
“Shawnee, the man wants to get to know you. He makes it tough on us out here. We have to listen to the blasted-awful ballads he makes up about your strong will and kicking him out of your office. He’s such a clown and can’t sing any better than the backend of a cow. I imagine the rest of the day he’s going to be singing about the food you’re gonna serve him.”
“Yeah right, just be there around seven.”
Cheyenne mounted her horse and set off down the alley. Shawnee looked around the pens for Emory’s familiar frame. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a sigh. She watched the ground on her way out of the gate to her pickup and drove to the house her parents had left them.
****
Shawnee turned on the faucet to run a warm bath. She left to collect clean clothes from the utility room, but lingered at the drier entranced by the way the other employees showed respect to their employer. Tonight could be a good time to find out what everyone else saw in the man. She reached to turn on the washing machine and remembered the running bath water.
“I would thank you, Emory Creek, to stay out of my mind,” Shawnee whispered and ran to the bathroom.
The water in the tub rose to overflow level. Shawnee reached for the knob to turn it off. Lowering her tired body into the warm water, she soaked in the tub, rose and dried off. In a matter of seconds, she slipped into a pair of faded jeans and a tank top then headed for the kitchen.
Shawnee set the table. Cheyenne and Mason sat at one end and talked among themselves. The doorbell rang. Shawnee jumped and pulled her worn out apron from her waist. She smoothed her hair as she walked to the door.
A loud clang and ruckus filtered in. Shawnee yanked the door open to see what caused the commotion. Emory’s large body was plastered against the rough red brick. His face was white as a ghost, his eyes wide and he didn’t seem to be breathing.
“Are you all right, Emory?” Cheyenne and Mason stood behind Shawnee’s panicked body. Shawnee glanced at the overturned table and porch chairs.
“Slowly get back in the house, Shawnee. There’s a very large snake out here, and it’s hungry. It jumped on me from a tree.” Emory’s voice shook with intense fear.
“Where is he?” Shawnee glanced around to see the rubber snake she had tossed in the cherry tree to ward off the birds that liked to feast on the luscious berries. The white price tag displayed across the back of the toy lying on the concrete walk. She stifled a laugh.
“About a foot from the door.” Emory stopped breathing again.
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry; you’re in good hands now, Emory.” Shawnee disappeared in the house, pulling Mason and Cheyenne with her.
Shawnee grabbed her shotgun from the coat closet and walked through the garage to the front door. “Neither one of you better say a word.”
“Pssst. Emory, where’s this human eating snake? Has he moved yet?” she whispered.
<
br /> “By the door. What are you gonna do with that gun?” Emory’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened with sheer fright.
“I’m gonna make the snake eat lead. What do you expect me to do? Kiss it on the lips?” Shawnee looked at the fake snake near the door.
“There’s gonna be a lot of ricochet. You’re gonna kill us all.” Emory cringed deeper into the bricks and squenched his eyes shut.
Shawnee crept up to the snake. Her gun pointed at its head. She fought to control the laugh building up in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes. Emory’s body was still plastered to the wall. His stomach sucked in as he apparently braced himself for an early death.
“I can’t shoot the Captain, Emory. He’s our main guard snake.” She laid the gun on the sidewalk and dropped to her knees near the toy reptile. She squeezed the tears from her eyes to run down her cheeks, puffed out her bottom lip and sucked back the snicker.
Emory opened one eye. Shawnee picked up the rubber snake. “Yea, we paid good money for Captain and his friend to guard the cherry trees. He came all the way from China to help us out.” Shawnee stroked the rubber snakes head. “Yep. He carries his passport with him. See made in China tattooed across his belly here.” Shawnee waited a few seconds for Emory to relax a bit. Her laugh echoed under the porch awning.
“You pushing for daisies, Shawnee?” His lips pursed and he clenched his fist.
“But, if I was you, I’d move before that spider on the wall jumps on you,” she pointed over his shoulder.
“That’s not funny.” His glare grew murderous. “You’re downright mean.”
“Suit yourself.” She tossed the rubber snake back up in the tree. She turned just in time to see Emory slither down the wall. His head fell on the uprooted porch chair, bounced off, and landed on the cushion.
“Bring the smelling salts, Cheyenne. Emory passed out. I think it was the tarantula that done him in.”
Mason and Cheyenne helped Shawnee carry Emory in the house and laid him on the couch. He opened his eyes as Shawnee glanced down at him. She watched his face turn red. Mason helped him sit up on the couch as he cleared his throat and tried to look purposeful.
