She passed over the beer and grabbed a soft drink, popping it open on her way back to the counter. Did she have time to do more research before he returned? She’d already found several articles about High Vista taking over a sizeable tract of Ashman land three years ago, about the time of Sophie’s disappearance. High Vista had also gained some of Silver A’s Thoroughbreds, including Jump Start, in an undisclosed deal. Rumors placed Jump Start’s value in the area of five million dollars, but there was no official purchase recorded. What had never been answered was why the land or the horses had changed hands. Had the Silver A been hurting for funds?
Sophie Ashman, she typed into the search of Crews friend list. Nothing. A search of Facebook brought up dozens. She didn’t even know what the girl looked like or how old she was. There had been a couple of old posts on Crew’s personal page with shared photos that were now listed as no content. Could those have been of Sophie and she’d removed them or taken down her page?
A sound distracted Tara, and she hurriedly cleared the search before looking up. Crew was coming toward her, looking clean and handsome. His head was hatless for a change, and she saw that his hair was indeed dark, now brushed back and glistening with water, curling slightly at the ends. He also looked freshly shaven, which surprised her because he’d been faster than she’d anticipated. The fact that he was barefooted seemed intimate.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked.
She grinned. “I created a new page I’d like you to approve. We need to separate the focus with different pages, I think. One for the horses and one for the beef.”
“Is that really necessary?” He took the stool beside her. He smelled heavenly, and it was all she could do not to lean over and sniff him. What was coming over her?
“Yes. I know you’re more interested in the beef side of things, but don’t you have boarding openings? Or any breeding slots?”
“Not breeding slots,” he said. “I don’t force my stallion like many breeders. We stick the mares in the pasture with him. It generates less income, but I feel it’s more humane. He’s happy as pie in the middle of his harem.”
“I bet.”
“But I do have stalls open, and we could add more training.”
“Well then. I’ll take a few pictures and see what I can do about publishing that.”
“I’d be willing to pay for some ads, if you can help with them,” he said.
This surprised her. But then, he’d been in business long enough to know you had to advertise to find customers.
“I don’t need it for the beef, though,” he added.
“So everyone knows you don’t add hormones to your beef?” she asked. “I’m guessing they don’t, and from what I read, that’s really big these days. And look, let me show you something.” She typed in Silver A Ranch in the search and the first thing that came up was a three-year-old article reporting that the Silver A had lost over two hundred head of pregnant heifers to a virus, for an estimated loss of over three hundred thousand dollars. After that, the only thing listed about the ranch on the front page were mentions of Iron Express’s offspring. Only on the second page did it get to hormone-free beef.
“This is what comes up first when you search for your ranch. I think getting something else there would be good for your sales, especially for your local customers or potential local customers.”
He studied the article, a furrow between his eyes. “That makes sense.”
“What happened to the cows?” she asked. “Does it happen a lot in raising cattle?”
He sighed. “Not on that scale. We screen new cows very carefully. That day one of the workers was careless and introduced an infected cow and then didn’t report the sickness until it was too late. We were lucky that was all we lost.”
“That’s awful,” she said. “I hope you fired him.”
His expression didn’t change. “He actually died in a car accident a few weeks after.”
“Oh, poor man.”
Crew shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“And the ranch?”
“We’ve recovered. Or mostly. As long as nothing unforeseen happens this year, we won’t have to sell off land or let men go.”
“Then it would be nice to fill those stables and raise demand for Silver A beef.”
A smile tugged at his mouth, which was what she’d intended. “Has anyone ever told you you’re stubborn?”
“Everybody,” she said with a laugh.
“I like stubborn girls.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“That depends. Do you want me to?”
Oh, did she want him to. But she just gave him what she hoped was an enigmatic grin.
“Okay,” he said, “you have a budget of five hundred bucks this month between both the beef and the horses. If I see any difference, I’ll continue both types of ads.”
It wasn’t a bad start. She could get something going for that much, though it would be better after several months. “Deal. You’ll see a difference.”
“You really do like a challenge.”
So he did remember what she’d said yesterday. The air between them seemed to crackle, and their hands, next to each other on the counter, were suddenly too close for her comfort. She didn’t know him well enough to understand what kind of a man he was, and trusting him was out of the question. Wasn’t it?
“Tell me about the ranch,” she said, wanting to know everything about him.
He stood and removed a beer from the refrigerator. “Why don’t we go find a couch?”
She’d rather stay here where she could use the computer to put space between them. “First, let me show you the posts. And is it okay if I post the picture I took of you? Bringing a human face to the ranch will help a lot.”
“That used to be my grandfather.”
There was so much warmth in the words that she had to say, “You miss him.”
“Yeah, I do.” He settled again on the stool next to her. “He was the strong type. After my grandmother died, he held the family together.”
“Your parents?”
“Around, but not really involved. My grandfather was a great man, but my father acted like a typical privileged brat—money was more important to him. And my mother . . . they didn’t get along. He was jealous and she drank a lot. They ended up divorcing. I stayed here with my dad and my grandparents. Well, that was years before we built this house.”
Questions threatened to come spilling out, but with effort, she bit her tongue. She didn’t want the awkwardness to return. For now, she’d have to stem her curiosity about his family.
“Okay, well, here they are.” She clicked into her file and began displaying the posts.
He laughed at the thought bubbles she’d put on the Thoroughbred foals. “You’re funny.”
“Not really. But people like funny posts.”
She continued to flip through the posts as he talked about what he loved about the ranch: the quiet mornings, the first steps of a wobbly calf, riding his horse over the fields. “And most of all dinner at Isaac’s,” he said with a laugh.
“That explains how empty your refrigerator is.”
“Yep. So what about you?” He swiveled in his chair, his knee coming into contact with her bare leg.
“Hey, we’re talking about the ranch.”
“No, now were talking about you.” His smile ignited a flutter in her stomach. “What’s your story?”
She might as well get this over with. “It’s not a long one. I lost my parents early, and I grew up in foster homes. Now I work for a marketing firm.”
He reached out and took her hand, his thumb rubbing over the palm. “That’s your connection to Lily’s House. I knew there was something.”
What she knew was that he was driving her insane with his touch, but she couldn’t pull away. “Lily’s House was one of them. The last one—the best one.”
For a long moment he didn’t say anything, just kept touching her hand. Then he said
quietly, “You said the girls came from neglectful or abusive situations. Which were you?”
All at once, her throat felt dry. Now who was making things awkward? Yet she didn’t feel he was intruding but rather as if he cared.
At her hesitation, he added, “I’m sorry. That was rather personal. You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.”
“Maybe I’m the exception—sort of. My parents weren’t married when I was born, and my dad was an eighteen-year-old screw up who left us to join the army. He was killed in Afghanistan. My mother ran off with the neighbor when I was four. I went to live with my grandmother, my dad’s mom. She did her best.”
He sat up, his eyes suddenly intense. “Your mother left and never came back?”
Should she tell him the rest? The compassion in his eyes—would it turn to pity? “That’s right. She left, and my grandmother died when I was six. After that, I went to a series of foster homes while they searched for my mother. They finally found that she’d died, but by then I was thirteen, with a chip on my shoulder. When I landed at Lily’s House a year later, I hit the jackpot. I owe Lily pretty much everything. She pushed me to be better, get an education, find a good job. Now I give back.” She wanted other girls to have something to hold onto like she’d found.
His thumb continued in the circle that sent delicious warmth zipping through her veins. “I can’t imagine what life was like for you. We had our difficult times, but my grandfather was there, and even after my grandmother died when I was fourteen, we had Isaac’s wife. She was like a second mother.”
For a moment, she felt a searing jealousy that he’d had family who’d taken care of him. He’d had everything she hadn’t growing up, despite his difficulties with the ranch. He’d never known hunger, had never hidden in a closet to escape abusive foster siblings, had never known what it was like to cry for a mother who had abandoned you. But she was used to that emotion, and she pushed it aside. She had so much now. She didn’t need anything more.
Not even him. Though she wouldn’t mind getting to know him a bit better.
His hand tightened on hers, and his face closed the space between them. Was he going to try to kiss her? It was too soon, and yet a part of her felt he’d waited far too long. She’d wanted to kiss him from the moment they’d visited the foals.
He swallowed hard and stepped away. “Would you like some ice cream? Because I have some decadent double chocolate fudge.” The way he said it felt like a touch running up her back.
She laughed. “I love ice cream. Especially decadent double chocolate fudge.” She’d never had it before, but it was her new favorite.
“Good.” He leaned close again and said, “Because I really need to cool down right now. And for the record, yes, I’m flirting with you.”
She laughed as he stepped away and pulled out two bowls from a cupboard.
He was about to pull out the ice cream when a pounding on the back door to the deck startled both of them. “Just a minute,” he called. To Tara, he added, “This shouldn’t take long.” But his voice had grown weary.
He pulled open the door and the woman from earlier appeared, breathing hard, her red hair disheveled. “Since when do you lock the door? Look, Dad called. He needs our help with a calf.”
“Now?”
The woman’s eyes slid past him to Tara. “I didn’t know you had company. But yes, now. Come on. I got the truck. It’s too late for me to track down someone else. Where’s your phone anyway?”
“Probably in the bathroom.”
“I figured as much.”
Crew turned to Tara. “Look, I don’t know how long this will last. Birthing is like that. Can we finish this another night?” He sounded regretful, but the impatience of the other woman beckoned like a challenge to Tara. He already owed Tara one raincheck to show her the rest of the foals, and she didn’t want another one.
“Can I come along? I’ve never seen a calf born before.”
“You might not want to,” the woman told her. “If it was going to be easy, she wouldn’t need help.”
Tara met her gaze. “I can handle it.”
“Well, come on then.” The woman motioned and stepped toward the door.
Tara looked at Crew to make sure he was okay with her coming. “Sure,” he said. “But I need my boots.” He sprinted across to the door leading to the garage.
The redhead stuck out her hand. “I’m Marti Kelley,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Tara Levine.”
“Nice to meet you.” Marti sounded sincere and not at all like a jealous girlfriend. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“That’s okay.”
“By the way, I’m Crew’s cousin. Well, his second cousin, really. His mom and my dad are first cousins.”
What a relief. And the fact that she felt such relief worried Tara. Here she was suddenly wanting to sniff a guy, getting all jealous because of his cousin, and now going off into the night to watch the birth of a calf.
Where would the end lead her? For once she couldn’t say.
Chapter 6
Marti’s truck was as old as his green Toyota, and she bumped along the dirt road faster than even he did in emergencies. He hoped she didn’t ruin a tire.
“Marti’s going to be a veterinarian someday,” he told Tara. Crammed together as they were in the cab, their legs touched, making him crazy. He should have kissed her when he had the chance, but she’d just told him about her family, and she’d seemed defenseless. When he kissed her, he wanted to be sure she kissed him back because she wanted to, not because she was feeling vulnerable.
But he wanted to kiss her badly, and he liked her more with each passing minute. He liked her humor, her certainty, her stubbornness. He liked the way she talked, the way she moved, and now he craved to know if kissing her was anything like he imagined.
Instead, they were on their way to see a calf born. Hopefully it would be healthy, despite the complications.
He looked over to see Tara smiling. “Worried?” he asked.
“Actually, I watched three cow births today on YouTube,” Tara admitted. “Doing research for your social media.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“You can say that again,” Marti agreed. “Look, Crew, I want to deliver the calf, okay? It’ll be good for my resume.”
He snorted. “You’ve helped with a ton of these.”
Marti’s lip protruded. “I know, but I’ve never done a breech alone. Dad will let me if you will.”
“I’m all for you doing it,” he said. “I’m wearing my good shirt.” They all laughed together.
By the time they arrived at the cow pasture, Isaac had already isolated the cow using a portable stall. She was straining and bawling and straining some more. Dusk was quickly approaching, but several lanterns were already lit around the outside of the stall.
Isaac’s weathered face broke into a grin as he saw them. Crew quickly made the introductions. “Nice to meet you,” Isaac said to Tara, the skin around his eyes crinkling more as his grin widened.
Tara nodded. “You too.”
“I’d offer a hand if it wasn’t dirty.” To Crew, Isaac added, “I had a feeling about this one. Came back after dinner, and sure ’nough, she was straining something awful.”
“Well, let’s help her out.”
“Take her head, then. Marti and me’ll do the rest, seeing as you have company.”
Crew inclined his head in thanks. Having his arm shoulder-deep inside the backend of a cow wasn’t exactly an image he wanted Tara to have as an early impression of him. “I told Marti I was fine with her pulling the calf, if that’s okay with you.”
Isaac grinned at his daughter. “Sure. ’Bout time for that.”
They went to work. Crew thought Tara would be full of questions, but she was quiet as she watched, except for asking if she could take pictures. She snapped photos as Marti donned long plastic gloves and sank her hand inside the cow, searching for tiny hooves.
&n
bsp; Isaac rolled his eyes and whispered loudly to Tara. “I ain’t never used gloves before. Let’s see if she can do it.”
“Shut up, Dad.” Marti grinned to show she wasn’t upset. She didn’t need any help finding the little hooves, pulling them out nearly a foot, and securing the rope around them.
“That doesn’t hurt the baby?” Tara asked.
“No, we’re careful,” Isaac said.
At that moment, the cow jerked and lumbered backwards, pulling away from Crew at her head and nearly trampling Marti, who jumped out of the way.
Crew motioned to Tara to come closer and tossed her one of the ropes he was holding. “Wrap it around that lower bar there and pull it tight as Isaac pushes her forward.” She watched him do it with his rope and then did the same. “Now tie it off like this, with a loop, so we can undo it quickly if we need to.”
Heifer secure, Tara ventured back to the other side to watch, while Crew stayed and talked quietly to the cow. Marti began to pull with the contractions. Slowly, inch by inch, she pulled the calf out while Isaac hovered nearby, a proud smile on his face.
“It’s a boy. Grab some gloves and come help!” Marti called to Tara, as she went madly to work, rubbing down the calf. “He’s not breathing yet, either, so we need to get his lungs clear.”
Tara didn’t hesitate to drag on the gloves.
“Rub your thumbs down his nose like this,” Marti told her. “And the flat of your hand under his jaw.”
“I see. Like this?”
“Yes.”
Tara laughed as the calf took a breath that didn’t sound waterlogged. “That was incredible,” she murmured.
“I know, right?” Marti’s eyes were glowing with her accomplishment.
“Thank you for letting me help.” Tara looked up at Crew, grinning at him as she removed her gloves. He was surprised that none of this seemed to faze her.
Cowboys Can’t Lie (A Lily’s House Novella) Page 5
