* * * *
"What do you think of Alex?” Charlie asked after Brett joined him in the stable.
Brett pressed his lips together to form a tight smile of reproach. “You really don't want me to answer that.” He took the pitchfork Charlie was holding out to him. “Everything about her makes my skin crawl."
He stuck the tool into a pile of straw and tossed a forkful into the first stall. Maybe if he focused his annoyance on distributing the straw, he would be calm enough to deal with her by the time he returned to the house.
Charlie let out a hearty laugh. “Now that ain't very nice,” he said while hefting some of the straw into the same stall. “You have to admit, she is one gorgeous woman. Better than the girls we see in town."
True, but beauty was only skin-deep. He would much rather have three average-looking women than one Alex Kincaid.
"Yeah,” he grunted. “So are black widows. You know what they do after they've mated, don't you?"
Charlie shook his head. “Not really. I have a good healthy fear of spiders, to tell you the truth."
"They kill their mate as soon as they're finished. She reminds me of a black widow. She will lure you into her web and once she's done using you for what she can get, she'll kill you with her nasty disposition.” He paused and pointed to his friend. “A praying mantis is another good comparison. They bite the heads off of their mates the instant they're done."
Charlie laughed all the harder. “Man, you are mean. She didn't seem that bad when Jason introduced her to us before lunch. Which reminds me, you burnt the bacon on my sandwich."
Brett scowled. “Ah, shut up. I wouldn't have done that had the Ice Princess not riled me.” He returned to spreading the straw. “That's all right. I have plans for her. She refuses to make biscuits tonight because she doesn't want to get dough in her nails."
"Poor baby,” Charlie quipped through clenched teeth and hefted the pitchfork loaded with straw. “What are you going to do? Keep in mind, she's Jason's niece."
Brett nodded and entered the stall, moving the straw around until a single layer covered the dirt. “I'm not fool enough to get myself kicked out of here. I like it here.” He chuckled. “I'm going to give her the chore of getting the chicken ready to cook. I bet you a week's salary she's never seen a fresh chicken before, let alone dressed one."
"I don't take sucker bets, buddy.” Charlie paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You only have seven months left. Have you thought about what you're going to do once your time is up?"
Brett exited the stall and moved to the next one. “I think I'm going to stick around. There's nothing for me in Dallas, except to go back to shooting up and at least here I know I have a place to stay and honest work to tend to."
As he spoke, he cast a rueful glance at his bare arms. Almost out of necessity, he had tattooed a green dragon over the brown track marks.
Charlie leaned against the handle of the pitchfork. “Do you miss it at all?"
Brett peered at him with a wan smile. “Once in a blue moon I miss the rush, but otherwise, no. I degraded myself for three years and if it hadn't been for Jason insisting that I get my GED, I wouldn't even have my high school diploma.” He drew in a deep breath and continued to work.
With a hint of curiosity, he asked, “What about you? Do you miss it?"
Charlie shrugged. “I was never a user. I dealt it, but that's it. Granted, I made about fifteen times what I'm making now, but I wouldn't return to it. I've actually made something of myself and that means quite a bit more than a few hundred bucks."
"Now this is what I call a progress check,” Jason said, removing his hands from his pockets and entering the stable. “No one could have convinced you of that when you first got here."
Charlie's cheeks flushed crimson. “No, I suppose not. Ten years is a long time to reevaluate one's priorities. After seeing a mare deliver its foal, money doesn't seem quite as important."
Jason nodded and turned to Brett with amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I see Alex convinced you to help her with the luggage.” When Brett couldn't meet his gaze, he grunted. “And she's getting to you."
He hesitated. Jason had always insisted they be honest with him, but he couldn't tell him how he really felt. “She's unlike anyone I've ever met, that's for sure."
"Is that the PC term for saying my niece is a spoiled brat?"
Brett's breath caught in his throat and he felt the color drain from his face. Now, more than ever, he feared Jason had overheard his conversation with Charlie.
"I—I didn't say that."
"No, I did,” Jason replied. “Keep in mind this is the first time Alex has ever had to show responsibility. I know she's going to whine the entire time, but what I want you boys to do is show her what she needs to know and let her do it herself. Think you can do that?"
Charlie blinked. “You're actually going to let her work with the horses?"
Jason's eyebrows knitted in disbelief. “She'd get herself killed if I did that. No, I'm talking about the household chores you boys share. Brett is going to help her through the first few days of cooking and I'm going to have Daniel show her how to do the laundry. That leaves you or Matthew showing her how to properly clean the floors."
"Think she's ever seen a scrub brush before?"
"Watch it, Charlie. I'm thinking of making you my foreman, so don't make me reconsider that idea. Got it?"
Charlie's eyes lit with excitement and he slid a glance in Brett's direction. “Are you serious?"
Jason nodded.
"I won't disappoint you, Jason. I can promise you that."
"I'm sure you won't. Well, I need to hunt up the other boys and see if they need any help.” He gave Brett a knowing grin. “If Alex gets to be too much for you, let me know and I'll have a talk with her. Otherwise, good luck with dinner tonight."
The corners of Brett's lips curled as he thought of his plan. “It'll go just fine, I'm positive of it."
* * * *
By the time Brett finished in the stable, it was time to start making the evening meal. His shoulders ached and he rubbed the sore muscles while rotating his arm. Though tiring, he had to admit the workout succeeded in eliminating his sour mood. He spotted Daniel and glanced at the house before trotting toward the teen.
"Would you do me a favor?"
Daniel nodded with a casual shrug. “Sure, as long as you're not asking me to help cook. I can't even make microwave popcorn without burning it."
Brett flicked his hand in a dismissive manner. “Nah, Alex has that privilege. What I want you to do is find the biggest chicken on the ranch and kill it for me. Do you mind doing that?"
Daniel chuckled, realization flickering in his eyes. “You're going to make her pluck and gut it, aren't you?"
Brett grinned.
"Yeah, I can do that, but you're going to be hard pressed to get her to do it once she realizes what you have in mind."
"I'll cross that bridge when I get there. I'll be ready for it in about ten minutes, so you may want to pick one out now.” Brett jogged up to the house and mounted the steps. He stepped inside and glanced around for any sign of Alex.
After checking the empty kitchen, he sighed and started up the stairs. It shouldn't have surprised him to find she hadn't been waiting for him. He reached the landing and noticed the two suitcases he had left in the hall were gone, but the door was shut tight. He leaned against the doorframe before knocking.
Silence.
Figures. He knocked a little harder.
"Come in,” she called in a sleepy voice.
You have to be kidding me. He opened the door a crack. Sure enough, Alex was sprawled on her stomach, her arms tucked beneath the pillow. He shook his head. From the corner of his eye, he noticed two of the suitcases standing empty against the far wall and the carry-on bag hanging from the back of the closet door.
At least she's been busy. “Time to wake up, princess."
Alex groaned, but didn't move
other than to turn her face away. “Just ten more minutes, Daddy."
Brett chuckled under his breath and took a few steps toward the bed. “No can do.” He pressed his hands against the mattress and leaned forward. “And I'm not your daddy."
Alex's eyes snapped open and she stared at him a split second before lashing her foot out to kick him away. Her sneaker caught the side of his knee with a sickening pop and he fell to his right knee with a howl of pain.
"What are you doing in here?” She sat up and glanced around the room.
Pain shot through Brett's left leg and he clenched his teeth before flashing an angry glare in her direction.
"What did you do that for?"
Alex slipped off the bed and tossed her hair over her shoulder while looking down at him. “Wow. Neil would be impressed,” she commented, then stuck out her hand. “Come on, it can't hurt that bad. Let's get you to your feet."
Brett continued to glower, ignoring her outstretched hand while using the bed to push himself up. Agony caused his leg to buckle and he sunk to the ground.
"Let me kick you in the knee and we'll see just how much it hurts,” he griped. “Who's Neil?"
Alex blinked innocently. “My kickboxing instructor.” When he didn't move to get up, she shifted from one foot to the other. “Okay, I apologize for kicking you. You can get up now."
Brett glanced down at his leg and groaned upon seeing his knee beginning to swell. It would be just my luck she broke it.
"I would if I could move,” he snapped. “Go get Charlie and Jason. You remember who Charlie is, right?"
She strained to form an indignant expression, but her unease prevailed. “Well, of course I do. Shouldn't we call you an ambulance?” she asked, wringing her hands.
"From where? San Eduardo doesn't have a hospital. Charlie and Jason are going to have to call Dr. Kennedy out here.” He dropped his head back with a growl. What kind of lunatic takes out kneecaps when someone wakes them?
"Oh—oh, okay. Stay put. I'll be right back.” As she tried to slip past him, her foot bumped his injured leg.
Brett howled. “Would you watch what you're doing, please?” he snarled. “Trust me, I'm not going anywhere.” Alex hurried out of the room and he could hear her feet thudding down the stairs at a rapid pace.
This was going to pose as a problem. No matter how bad the pain was, he couldn't take anything stronger than Tylenol. Almost every prescription pain medication on the market had some form of narcotic in it and he refused to ruin what he had worked so hard to abolish from his life.
The moments passed like hours as he waited to hear the front door open. When the screen door finally creaked, he heard Alex's voice floating up the stairs.
"I swear, Uncle Jason, I didn't mean to hurt him. I woke up and saw him standing over my bed. It didn't dawn on me who he was or where I am until he spoke,” she explained.
Was it his imagination or did she genuinely sound upset? Of course she is, his inner voice chastised. The woman crippled you within the first four hours of getting here.
"I'm sure you didn't,” Jason sighed and entered the bedroom with Charlie and Alex hot on his heels. He strode to the side of the bed and crouched next to Brett. “Can you move your leg?"
Brett tried to straighten his knee, but a sudden jolt of pain ripped through his leg, making his stomach twist into a knot.
"No,” he bit out. “It hurts too much. It doesn't feel like a break, so I think all she did was dislocate it."
He tried once more to straighten his leg and another pop filled the air. He bit down on his upper lip to stifle a scream. His knee still ached, but at least the pressure had dissipated.
"Looks like it's back in place now,” Charlie murmured and offered him his hand.
Brett scowled, but accepted his friend's help. Jason shrugged his shoulder beneath Brett's arm while Charlie did the same on the other side.
Alex stood near the dresser, chewing the corner of her lower lip. “I didn't mean to,” she mumbled as the trio started for the door. “He scared me."
Her declaration received no reply as Brett made his way into the hall. Before they made it more than a few feet, he could hear her murmuring to herself.
"I'm so sorry."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Three
Alex felt horrible. She truly hadn't meant to cause Brett any harm. Why did he creep up on her anyway? As she stood near the staircase watching Dr. Kennedy examine Brett's leg, her guilt mounted. The other men had come to witness the prognosis and periodically each of them shot her looks of irritation mingled with disgust.
Dr. Kennedy rose close to an hour later. “Well,” he started, “the good news is, nothing's broken. The bad news is he won't be able to walk on it for at least seventy-two hours. The tendons surrounding the knee are strained and I want him to rest before resuming regular activity. Also, I would suggest wearing a brace for an additional week, just to be on the safe side."
At least she hadn't broken his knee. This was good, right? One glance at the others told her this wasn't the case.
Jason clapped Brett on the shoulder. “Sounds good.” In order to ease Brett's sour mood, he added, “Looks like you're getting a few days off."
Brett darted Alex a pointed look. “Whether I want them or not.” He took the handwritten prescription the doctor was giving him and scanned it. He handed it back with a shake of his head. “I don't want this. I'll make do with aspirin if it gets too bad."
His knee may not have been broken, but Alex could tell by the tight lines around his eyes and mouth that he was in pain. If the doctor was giving him a prescription, why wasn't he taking it?
Dr. Kennedy shook his head in exasperation. “Son, this is only a three-day prescription. There's no danger of becoming dependant if that's what you're afraid of."
Brett set his jaw. “I'm allergic."
Alex doubted this, but Dr. Kennedy accepted the answer with a shake of his head. He gave Steven Bradley a sidelong glance and closed his medical bag. “That seems to be a popular allergy around here. I won't make you take anything if you don't want to—"
"I don't,” Brett interrupted. “Aspirin and an ice pack will be just fine."
Dr. Kennedy rubbed the back of his gray hair before letting his hand fall to his side. “Have it your way. Just stay off that leg for the next three days. That part is non-negotiable. All right?"
Brett grinned despite his obvious pain. “Yes, sir. Saves me from having to cook for the next three days."
Uh oh. Alex swallowed. This doesn't sound good. What was she going to cook? She had no culinary skills to speak of and with Brett incapacitated for the next few days she didn't dare ask him for help.
Despite her guilt, she was still angry about his rude comments from earlier. What gave him the right to be condescending toward her when she simply asked if there was a larger room? Even more infuriating was his insistence on calling her “princess.” She could almost see the sarcasm drip from his lips when he uttered the word. Could she help it if her family had good business sense?
He's as arrogant as he is good looking, she thought grumpily.
Dr. Kennedy chuckled while stealing a glance in Alex's direction. “Well, I guess it's not a total loss then.” He shook Jason's hand. “If the boy changes his mind about the pain medication, just come by my office and I'll write a new prescription."
"That's not likely to happen, Doc, but thanks."
Alex stepped out of the way and tried to avoid eye contact with the doctor as he passed.
"That was some kick, Miss Kincaid. Where did a little thing like you learn to take down a fella Mr. Hartman's size?"
Alex's cheeks flushed, but her embarrassment quickly turned to annoyance when Brett announced, “She learned it in kickboxing class. I dare say she aced the course."
Charlie snickered under his breath, but wiped the smile from his face when she shot a dark look in his direction.
Steven grinned and smacked Brett's arm
with the back of his hand. “She must have. She took you out. Ain't any of us been able to do that in years."
Part of her wanted to be smug about Steven's comeback, but an even larger part of her—logic no doubt—knew his comment would only make her situation worse. Now not only was Brett mad at her for injuring him, he was probably livid the others were needling him about it as well.
Brett proved her right when he glared at Steven. “This coming from the same guy who broke his arm trying to jump into the creek."
If the remark bothered Steven, he didn't show it as his smile widened. “I never claimed to be all that bright. At least I didn't get my butt kicked by a girl."
Alex winced. If Steven didn't stop antagonizing Brett, she would never hear the end of it. It had been an accident, a stupid mistake she would most likely regret for the next week.
Jason shut the door behind the doctor and cleared his throat. “All right, guys, that's enough. This was an accident and Alex has already apologized, so why don't we try to move on."
When the others didn't reply, he added, “Since there's been a lot of excitement today, I figured we could order a few pizzas this evening. That way there won't be any mess to clean up."
Alex perked up and took a few steps into the living room. “My treat."
It couldn't hurt to offer the men a peace offering. Perhaps this way, she could show them she really wasn't that bad.
Brett lost his dark expression and a lopsided grin surfaced. “Are you sure? I don't think you realize how much six men can eat."
"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have offered.” She strode across the room to retrieve a pad of paper and a pencil from the end table. “What does everyone want?"
Immediately, requests for different meats and vegetables filled the air. Daniel wanted mushrooms and sausage. She began to write down the toppings when Charlie announced he was allergic to mushrooms and sausage gave him heartburn.
She erased the request.
Steven chose ham and pineapple. Once again, she began to take down the order, but Brett replied fruit had no business being on a pizza and he wanted a plain pepperoni pizza.
Alex Page 3
