by Jeannie Watt
“There are two horses in the pasture,” Tyler pointed out.
“Buzz is chronically lame.”
“You’re feeding a lame horse?”
She looked out over the pasture where Buzz and her other very ridable horse, Pepper, were eating. Buzz had a solid pedigree and had cost Mason a lot of money, but a bone spur had put an end to his usefulness. Skye loved him, just as she’d loved Mr. Joe. It made her feel good having him around, and at this point in her life, she was all about anything that gave her peace and good feelings.
Skye pushed her hair back again, a nervous gesture that was becoming a tell. “The alternative to feeding a lame horse is to put him down. The vet assures me he’s in no real pain as long as he doesn’t bear weight, and I’m not going to kill him.”
The stark words hung for a moment, practically echoing between them. But Skye meant them with all of her heart. There’d been enough death associated with her ranch of late.
“I wasn’t judging you,” Tyler said in an uncharacteristically soft voice, making her feel embarrassed for her own quick judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s...”
“A habit?”
She gave a nod. “A bad one, apparently.” Tyler shifted his gaze to stare out over the distance, while Skye sucked in an audible breath. “Look. I’m sorry.”
He turned his head to look at her. “Me, too.”
“Why?”
“I forced my way onto your ranch.”
Her mouth flattened grimly. “Thus allowing me to keep it.”
A gust of wind swept over them, and Tyler reached for the shingles. “We’d better get back to work.”
Deep blue-gray clouds were building in the distance, and even though, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, Skye wanted to continue the conversation, settle things once and for all, she gave a nod of agreement and took up her hammer.
They managed to lay most of the roof before the rain started, and then there was no question of continuing as the skies opened and rain began hammering on the roof, fat drops bouncing and splashing around them. They scrambled for the ladder, Tyler going first, and then waiting at the bottom for Skye. His big hands settled on her waist as her foot slipped and stayed there until she was safely on the ground. Without a word, they dashed to the nearby safety of the barn.
“The nail can is still on the roof,” Skye said after they had raced through the wide-open double doors.
“I’m not going after it,” Tyler said in a serious voice.
In spite of herself, Skye smiled. Their gazes connected and Tyler smiled back, and suddenly there were butterflies beating inside Skye’s chest. She’d never realized what a devastating smile Tyler Hayward had. And if she’d wanted to double-check her findings, she would have been out of luck, because it faded instantly and his usual cocky half smile took its place.
Self-protection?
The thought came out of nowhere.
“If you want, I can do the chores on the days you work afternoons.”
“Yeah. About that...” Her hands went deeper into her pockets, stretching the heavy gray knit fabric. “You don’t need to feed.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“I like to do it. It’s part of my unwinding.”
Tyler smiled again, but it wasn’t the same smile as before. It was...guarded. “Feeding that mean-ass goose is part of your unwinding?”
“What did Vanessa do to you?” Because it was obvious from his tone that she’d done something.
“Scared the crap out of me. I let myself into the barn, and she came at me flapping wings and hissing. She got me up onto the hay.”
Skye laughed. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have loved to have seen that.”
“Maybe she’ll do it again.” He jerked his head toward the wide doors at the far end of the barn where Vanessa was strutting back and forth as she watched the rain.
“She’s not a big fan of strangers. She wasn’t even that fond of Mason.”
“But she likes you.”
“I raised her. I found her as a baby at the creek. Something must have happened to the mother. I brought her home and put her under a heat lamp, and as you can see, she thrived. Mason was pretty surprised to find a little goose in our bedroom when he came home.”
“You let her roam?”
“She was in a box. A really big box that took up most of the bedroom floor. I didn’t want her to feel lonely. Also, I could monitor Jinx, my cat, until he came to realize that she was part of our family.” Her expression brightened. “I have the cutest picture of the two of them curled up together in the yard.” And then she seemed to remember that he was Tyler and not Jess.
“Maybe you could show me sometime.”
“Yes,” she said. “Maybe.”
Translation: probably not.
“How much do you feed Goosezilla?”
She let out a small snort and shook her head, but didn’t look at him. “A scoop of mash and some grain scattered on the ground. She likes to forage. If I have vegetable scraps, I bring them to her. Maybe you could give her some of your veggie scraps after one of your precisely portioned muscle-building meals and make friends.” She smiled a little. “And then maybe she won’t put you up on the hay.”
“I will consider it.”
She moved onto the haystack just inside the door, expertly rolled a bale down and pulled a jackknife out of her pocket to cut the strings. “So tell me more about this diet of yours.” Safe topic.
“It’s not a diet in the weight-loss sense. It’s a diet in a nutritional sense. I have to do what I can to maintain muscle, so I don’t waste calories on empty carbs.”
“Do you do yoga?”
“Tried. Not my thing. I have some stretches and some balances.” He gave her a quick look. “What kind of program did Mason follow at home?”
“He ate pretty normal, but liked steak that we could afford sometimes and not others. He did yoga.” She gave him a curious look. “If you don’t do yoga, what kind of balancing do you do?”
“I stand on a ball, try not to fall off.”
“Interesting.”
“Kind of funny to watch. You should have seen me when I started. Even with a medicine ball, I ended up on my butt a couple times.”
“Yes, it’s always good to have a program in which you can get hurt while practicing.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “That’s kind of what my profession is all about.”
Chapter Ten
When it became obvious that the rain was not going to let up, Skye and Tyler went to their separate abodes to spend their evenings alone. Skye told herself she was good with this, but the truth was that after having a rather decent conversation with Tyler in the barn, her house seemed lonelier than usual. Which was crazy. Why would she be hungry for human contact when she worked in a very people-centered occupation?
It made no sense. And neither did pulling back the curtain before she went to bed to see if it was still raining and Tyler’s lights were still on. The answers to those questions were no and yes. She had to work the morning shift the next day but fully intended to get back up on the roof when she got home. The quicker they got the roof done, the better.
She also thought about crossing the distance to Tyler’s door and asking him not to get on the roof when she wasn’t there.
She didn’t.
He wouldn’t agree, and she wasn’t going to put herself in a position of arguing with him. Things were so much less stressful when they didn’t argue. Could they possibly continue in this mode? Because it would probably be years before she could make a serious dent in what she owed him, so it really made sense to broker peace between them.
Yes. Peace.
And maybe that would help her deal with the edgy feelin
g she had whenever he got close to her.
Skye got off shift a little early the next day and arrived home to find that Tyler had finished one roof and had a start on the next. She changed her clothes, retrieved her hammer out of the toolbox and climbed up to join him on the roof.
“How was work?” he asked, as if having her show up to roof was a normal part of his day.
“Not very busy. I like it better when I’m busy.” She reached into the nail can, grabbed a handful, then gestured for him to lay the next shingle. He did, and she nailed it into place.
They moved to their left. Tyler laid another shingle, and Skye hammered it in. “You know that I can hammer, right? That I hammered for a couple of hours before you got here?”
“Guess that makes it my turn.” She hit a nail in with one satisfying blow. “You shouldn’t be doing this at all while you’re healing, but I know better than to argue with you.”
“Know me that well?”
She leveled a look at him. “I know your species.” She hit a nail wrong and sent it sailing off the roof, then put another in place and tried again. “When Mason and I married, I thought I understood bull riders, but I still had a few things to learn. Now I get it.”
“And you were good with all the time he spent on the road?”
“I missed him.” She couldn’t say she was good with all the time she’d spent alone, but she understood it. Figured it was temporary. A guy’s body could take the stress of bull riding for only so long. Once Mason retired, they’d have a ton of time together, working the ranch...that had been the plan anyway.
Skye let out a sigh. Plans. Yeah. She hit another nail.
Tyler flopped another shingle in place, and she moved toward him to hammer. They made a good team, covered some decent ground, but they would have done better had they been on separate roofs. She meant what she said about him not stressing his shoulder for at least one more day. Even hammering with his off hand had to jar his healing muscles.
“I hope I’m not treading into the land of things I don’t want to know, but were you and Paige once close?” There. She’d said it as if she didn’t care—and, of course, she shouldn’t care. Paige was an impressive woman, and Tyler could do a lot worse. However, when Paige had questioned her that day about Tyler’s role on the ranch, she’d rather resented it...and once again suspected that Paige had a thing for her ranching partner.
“We kind of started the journey, but it didn’t go very far.”
Ka-ching. “Ah. Well, I think she’s interested in starting again.”
“Huh.”
Skye couldn’t tell if that was a good huh or a bad huh. It was a purposely neutral huh, and perhaps that was a sign that she needed to keep to neutral topics, even if she wanted a more definitive answer. “What will you do when you retire?”
Tyler was silent for a moment. “You mean if I’m not working the ranch here with you and bringing in huge profits?”
Skye laughed. Huge profits and ranching rarely went hand in hand. People ranched because they loved the land and the life. When she glanced over at Tyler, his cheeks were creased in a most pleasant way, and when he slowly turned his head to meet her gaze, amusement lit his eyes—eyes that were even more attractive without the stitches between them.
Something stirred low in Skye’s abdomen as their gazes connected, but she did her best to ignore the sensation as she said, “Yes. Exactly. Let’s say the unimaginable happens and the ranch is barely making enough to sustain us both...or I manage to pay off the paper and we dissolve the partnership. What are you going to do then?”
“Tough question, Skye.”
Even though the nails were short, she managed to pound the next one in crooked. She was about to hit it hard and bury the bent head when Tyler held his hand out for the hammer. Without a word, she handed it to him and he pulled the nail, then handed it back. “We could have flattened it, but I like all my nails straight.”
Skye gave him a curious look. “I’d never peg you as a straight-nail kind of guy.”
“There is a lot about me you don’t know, sweet...” His mouth tightened as the words trailed off. “...person.”
Skye fought another smile, which was happening more frequently than she would have thought possible. “Sweet person?”
“Beats sweet cheeks.” He shot her a look. “You need to tell me who that guy is.”
“Not a chance.” Todd Lundgren, local golden boy ex-football star, wouldn’t stand a chance against Tyler.
“Back to what I’m going to do... I want to raise some cattle.”
“Bucking stock?”
“No. I’ll leave that to Hennessey. He seems to have gotten a good start. The young ones look good. I’ll never ride one, but Cody might.”
“Cattle won’t support you—unless you own land outright...or you’re still here.”
“And you assume I won’t be.”
“Not when you’re say...fifty.”
He cast her a sidelong look. “You’re saying you don’t want to grow old with me?”
Skye sputtered and focused on hammering so she didn’t nail crookedly again. That didn’t require an answer. It also didn’t require her insides doing a free fall. What was it about this guy? The forbidden-fruit aspect maybe?
“My plan,” he continued on a serious note, “is to bank the money you pay me back. I get interest on the paper and I get interest from the bank. As long as no one I know gets too seriously banged up, I’ll save the money and buy a new place where I will be able to be supported by raising and selling cattle.” He flopped down a shingle. “That is my plan.”
The part about no one getting seriously injured got her attention. Bull riders did tend to help one another. She and Mason had donated to medical funds when they’d been able. “You need to think about your own future, too.” She reached in the can for another few nails. “But I know it’s a thin line to walk.”
“It could be me. I mean I have some bare-bones insurance, but it costs.”
The sun came out from behind the clouds, and while it felt good at first, it wasn’t long until it was beating down on them and both Tyler and Skye were shedding coats, vests and sweatshirts. Finally, she told Tyler that she needed a break to grab something to eat.
“Meet back here in fifteen minutes?” he asked as he wiped the back of his sleeve over his forehead and then put his ball cap back into place.
“Don’t eat any Twinkies.” She turned and headed back to the house, whistling under her breath. She, on the other hand, was totally going to eat a Twinkie. She loved them.
* * *
AS TYLER WATCHED Skye walk away, he wondered if she was aware of just how far her barriers had dropped that day. Neutral topics. Who would have thought it?
He felt as if he might have moved a few steps closer to convincing Skye that, beneath the bad-twin facade, he was just as good of a guy as Jess was. As good as her late husband, if not better, because at least he was honest.
Tyler shook off the thought. The past was the past.
When Tyler got to his trailer, he reached into his small fridge and pulled out the almond butter, opened it and dipped a spoon in, eating it straight out of the jar. Twinkie indeed. Although, truthfully? He’d eat a carton of them if they were available. That was why he didn’t have cookies or sweets in his house. There’d be time to indulge later, when he wasn’t so dependent on his body being the best it could be. When what his brother called “real life” started.
As if he wasn’t living real life now.
The last roof was almost done. Skye worked again tomorrow, and he intended to have it finished by the time she got home. He rolled his shoulder, knew that while he might not be doing it damage, he wasn’t helping the healing process any. But it was his fault that the buildings had no roofs, and he was going to make certain they were fi
xed before he left. When they were done roofing, he’d ride the property, check the fences...and for that he needed a horse. Or maybe a mule.
He dipped into the jar again. He’d have to ask Skye what the mule’s infirmity was, because all her animals seemed to have one. She had a lame horse, a chronically mean goose, an escape-artist donkey and an oversize cat, who was the most normal member of her menagerie. As far as he knew anyway.
He and Skye had barely made it back outside before another storm started blowing in and he suggested that they call it a day. Surprisingly she agreed, so Tyler got into his truck and headed off to Hennessey’s to watch the riders and shoot the breeze with his own kind.
When he arrived, he was surprised to see Angie Salinas standing close to Cody. The last he’d heard she’d been dating his cousin Blaine, but since neither Blaine nor Angie had a reputation for sticking with one person for too long, maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise to see her with Cody. “Hey, Angie.”
“Tyler.” Angie cocked her head at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be putting a roof on a building?”
“We’re done for the day,” he said, coming to lean on the fence next to her.
Cody stepped closer as if Tyler were encroaching. Fear not, kid. Angie was a likable girl, but not his type.
“You’re roofing?” Cody asked.
Angie shot Cody a look. “Tyler got scammed by a roofing company,” she explained matter-of-factly. There were no secrets in this town—at least not between the women who worked at the café.
“Honestly?”
Tyler shrugged philosophically. “They took my money, started the job, then closed doors.”
“Sucks.”
“Yeah. It does.”
Angie reached out to touch Tyler’s arm, bringing his attention back to her. “Is Skye really helping you? On the roof, I mean?”
“Yep. Building a chicken house, too. She’s good with a hammer.”
“No kidding.” Angie looked as if she didn’t know whether or not to believe him. He decided to let her work it out for herself.