Hannah’s eyes went wide. “You know he broke his foot, right? Poor man can’t drive until he gets the cast off!”
“He broke his foot?” Becca thought of the elderly vet up at the Swinging C, who everyone called Doc. He was a staple of this town as much as she was, friendly and outgoing, and always had a helping hand. Heck, he’d changed a tire for her when she’d gotten a flat and ended up stranded on the side of the road outside of town. Greg had been “too busy,” but Doc had driven past, seen her, turned around, and changed it without letting her raise a finger. He was like everyone’s favorite uncle.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t come in for a haircut recently, either, but she’d thought it was just due to calving.
“Oh yes, slipped on a step a few weeks ago. Right foot, too, so it’s twice as bad.” Hannah shook her head, tsking. “Those big nephews of his took him to the hospital in Casper and got him fixed up, and he’s stranded up there for now. Normally one of them goes and gets groceries, but he called me earlier today and asked me to do him a favor, what with them being so busy and all. I just didn’t have the heart to tell him I was busy, too.” She waved a hand in the air. “I’ll make it work, though. Somehow.”
Becca glanced at the clock. She didn’t have another appointment this afternoon and walk-ins were few and far between at the moment. “I’m not all that busy. You want me to get the groceries and take them up there?”
“Would you? That would help me so much!” Hannah beamed at her as Becca pulled the cape off her shoulders. “He gave me a list. It’s nothing too big, just coffee and sugar and a few other staples.”
Becca smiled as Hannah pulled a paper out of her pocket. “I’d be glad to.”
“You are such a sweetheart, Becca,” Hannah gushed, handing over the envelope with the grocery list written on the back. “That Greg was a fool to let you go.”
Becca kept smiling through that, somehow. Someday, she hoped Greg’s name would never be brought up again. Today, it seemed, wasn’t that day.
* * *
* * *
A few hours later, Becca parked in front of the Swinging C Ranch behind a few trucks on the long gravel driveway. She’d been up to the ranch a couple of times in the distant past as a young girl, but not recently. It looked the same as it ever did, right down to the milling herd of cattle munching on hay in a nearby pasture. There wasn’t a lot of snow on the ground, being that it was spring, but it was slushy and muddy, and she tiptoed her way toward the porch while carrying two big paper bags, along with her purse. She’d brought the groceries requested, plus a few treats from the local bakery since it was near the end of the day. Doc had a sweet tooth, and what better to go with some coffee than fresh doughnuts? His mood had to be down considering he had a broken foot during the busiest time of the year. She’d also brought a hair-trimming kit so she could fix him up while she was here.
After all, she had nothing else to do with her evening other than watch Real Housewives, and being a good neighbor seemed like the right thing to do.
It had nothing to do with the big, burly cowboy she’d asked out four months ago. Or his cute daughter. Nope.
Okay, so it did. She couldn’t even lie to herself. Truth was, she was mighty curious about him. Not in a creepy way; she just wanted to see how things were going. See if he was still around. If he was as intimidatingly large as she remembered.
She also remembered him having really nice eyes and a firm mouth, but that might have been her hormones playing him up. Then again, everyone probably looked amazing after Greg, and wasn’t that catty of her?
She hoped Greg was very, very happy with the new teacher, she thought bitterly as she rang the doorbell, and then realized Doc probably would have a heck of a time getting up to answer the door. So she knocked and then opened the front door, sticking her head in. “Doc? It’s me, Becca Loftis. I brought your groceries. Hannah was busy.”
There was no answer.
“Are you . . . here? Hello?” The lights were on in the front parlor area, and the kitchen looked messy enough that someone was in the house. But no one came out to greet her.
Well, perhaps he was taking a nap. Becca set the groceries down in the kitchen and then began to put them away in the fridge. She straightened up the counters, filled the dishwasher, and plated the doughnuts. A quick touch told her that the coffee was lukewarm, so she made a fresh pot, humming to herself as she scooped grounds into the basket. Even if Doc was asleep, he’d appreciate a fresh cup of coffee—
“What are you doing here?”
The deep, growled words startled her. She yelped, whirling around and sending coffee grounds flying everywhere. Behind her, in the doorway, was her cowboy.
Well, not her cowboy. Someone’s cowboy.
But it was the same man that had brought the little girl to the salon. And her memory had not done him justice. He loomed over her, all black brows and thick beard, and she noticed absently that she didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He’d have to stoop over to kiss her—not that they were going to be kissing, of course.
Great. Now she was thinking about kissing this mountain man instead of fearing for her life.
He stared down at the coffee grounds she’d rained all over the clean tile floor.
“You startled me.” Becca clutched at her chest. “My goodness. Warn a girl if you’re going to sneak up on her.”
He scowled in her direction. “Why are you here?”
“Doc asked Hannah to bring groceries up. Except Hannah was busy. Her dryer—no, wait, her washer. Yes, it was her washer. The repairman was coming by later today and she had a bunch of sheets to wash and new customers tonight and since the salon wasn’t busy, I figured I’d help her out. I bought the groceries and didn’t see anyone inside and figured that—” Oh mercy, but she was babbling like an insane woman, wasn’t she? But she couldn’t seem to stop. “I figured that coffee would go great with the doughnuts and since Doc can’t get around, it would be the neighborly thing to do to clean up the kitchen and . . . yeah.” She exhaled slowly. “Yeah, that’s about all of it.”
The big guy glanced down at his boots.
She did, too. The leather was wet, she noticed, and where it was wet, grounds were sticking to them.
She giggled.
He made a sound in his throat that was like a hmph.
But that was it. And she decided he wasn’t all that scary. Not really. Large, sure. Bearded, sure. But she’d dealt with her fair share of taciturn men and she could always charm them. She’d look at him as just another snarly customer she needed to win over. “Well, if you wanted a cup of coffee, there are easier ways to get one,” she told him breezily. “If you’ll wait a few minutes, I can clean up the floor and get the coffee started.”
He stared at her.
“To go with the doughnuts.”
He blinked.
She winked at him. “Trust me, you’ll like them. Then I can do a little cleaning up while we wait for Doc to wake.”
He blinked again. Looked over at the table and the pretty plate of doughnuts she’d set out. Looked over at her. Then he moved over to the table and picked up a doughnut with pink icing and sprinkles and set it carefully on a napkin. “Save that one for Libby,” he said gruffly. “And follow me.”
Mystified, she set down the coffee filter basket and followed him as he turned and left the kitchen.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hank was starting to wonder if fate was working against him.
That had to be the reason that the pretty hairdresser he’d turned down months ago was in the ranch’s kitchen, humming and making coffee. He’d done a good job of avoiding town up until this point specifically because she was there. He’d done his best to forget about her and the soft fall of her long hair, the bright smile, the curvy figure.
He wasn’t the type to dwell on what could have been. He’d though
t the date request was a joke, he’d turned her down, and that was that.
Didn’t matter that maybe he thought about her when he was in the shower. Or when Libby was talking a mile a minute in his ear. Or when he brushed his too-long, overgrown hair and wondered what she’d think of it. She was not his type. She wouldn’t last a day in the wilds of Alaska, and he was going to head back there soon enough.
Theoretically. He still hadn’t figured that part out yet.
And now Becca Loftis was here. Her name was just about imprinted in his mind, because he thought about it often, just like he thought about the pink curve of her lips and the soft eyes that even now smiled up at him.
She’d looked just as surprised to see Hank as he was to see her, and her gaze had gone to his mouth, hovering there so long that he couldn’t help but notice.
And that made him feel . . . things. Things he’d sworn off for good. It was bad that he was noticing the way she looked or how she smiled. He couldn’t get involved with a woman, especially one as soft and probably helpless as her.
So he scowled in her direction and gestured that she should follow him.
“I promise I’m not trying to be intrusive,” she chattered as he led her down the hall and toward the far end of the house, where Uncle Ennis’s vet clinic was set up. “I just knew Hannah was busy and I wasn’t, so I thought I’d help out. I’m sorry if it felt unwelcome. I really did mean no harm. I just figured while I was bringing groceries, maybe Doc would want a haircut, or some company. He’s a good man, you know.”
The woman wasn’t wrong. Doc probably would love the company. It was just . . . did it have to be her? But he supposed it wasn’t his call to make.
“I feel like you’re uncomfortable around me and that wasn’t my intention,” Becca said as he opened a door and led her through. She paused in the doorway and looked up at him. “Can we just forget that I asked you out? I’d rather that we were friends.”
Hank stared at her. Friends? With a woman? He wasn’t sure he knew how to be friends with someone like her. Her hair smelled like fruit, and her lightweight jacket had a ruff of white fur on the collar. She was wearing boots with tiny little heels, for fuck’s sake, boots that would sink into the mud immediately and did nothing for her height. If she was wearing plaid and had a skinning knife at her belt, sure, maybe they could be friends. As it was, he wouldn’t know the first thing to say to her. And friendship meant . . . expectations.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Becca stared up at him, clearly shocked at his refusal. “Have I offended you in some way?”
Couldn’t she just take no for an answer? He sighed and stared down at her, trying to figure out what to say. She looked up at him with the prettiest blue eyes, her arms crossed under her breasts, and for a moment—a brief moment—he wished he’d said yes. That he’d gone out with her. Because, sure, she was tiny and pushy and talked a lot . . . but she was also soft and pretty and he wondered what it’d be like to take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t even string a sentence together.
But that made parts of him ache, and Hank knew he wasn’t good with relationships, so he just shook his head and continued on down the long hall that ran along the back of the house and led toward the vet clinic. Once they got closer, he could hear the delighted giggles of his daughter, mixed with shrill puppy whines, and his bad mood eased a bit.
Libby was the only girl he needed in his life.
Hank opened the door and gestured inside. Becca looked at him curiously, then went into the clinic. Doc sat in his chair at his desk, the doors to the two small exam rooms closed. In his arms Doc had one tiny puppy, a bottle in its mouth, and four others were squirming on the floor on a blanket with Hank’s equally squirmy little daughter.
“I . . . oooh!” Becca started to speak and then made a girlish sound of delight. “Puppies?”
“Miss Becca!” Uncle Ennis looked over at the woman in pleasure. “What brings you here?”
There was a look of pure rapture on Becca’s face as she moved toward the blanket and picked up one of the squirming black-and-brown bundles on the blanket. He’d never seen a woman look like that before. The ecstasy on her face was almost uncomfortable to watch. Almost.
Except he couldn’t bring himself to stop staring at her.
“I brought your groceries,” Becca said, lifting a tiny puppy to her face and then closing her eyes and holding it against her cheek. “They’re so little. How old are they?”
“Two weeks. The mother got run over by a car and a buddy in Ten Sleep brought them to me because he didn’t have time to bottle-feed with calving going on. Knew I’d been laid up.” Uncle Ennis leaned back in his chair. “Been a long time since I seen you, Becca. You’re looking great. I appreciate you coming up.”
“I’m helping Hannah,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the tiny puppy ears as she cradled it to her chest. “My goodness, and I’m so glad I did. All my favorite people in one room.” She opened her eyes and beamed down at Libby, who waved excitedly. Then she glanced over at Hank, and her face creased into a tiny frown.
Right. He supposed he deserved that. He probably needed to get back to calving, too. Caleb and Jack were busy, and there were always calves that needed to be bottle-fed, as well. He kept standing in the doorway, though, watching the woman as she swayed, holding the tiny puppy up to her cheek as if she’d never been more in love.
For some reason, he couldn’t look away.
“Sorry if I’m intruding,” she said after a long moment. “I was making some coffee and cleaning up your kitchen because I thought you could use the help. Should I leave? Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all!” Uncle Ennis declared, beaming at her. “I’ve got my hands full with watching the little one and bottle-feeding these babies every two hours. I can use all the help I can get.”
“Well, I’d love to help out.” She pressed a gentle kiss on the puppy’s head, and Hank couldn’t stop staring at those pink, full lips. She said something, smiled, and then looked at him, expectant.
He’d missed it entirely, too focused on the movements of her soft mouth. “What?”
“I asked if you guys had dinner yet. I can whip something up.” She tilted her head, gazing at him for a long moment before turning to his daughter. “And I bet Miss Libby would be the best kitchen helper?”
“I would!” his daughter shrieked happily, waving the puppy in her hands around in the air like it was an airplane.
“Well then, why don’t we go cook some dinner for Doc and your daddy and your uncles.” Becca carefully extracted the puppy from Libby’s death grip and set it gently on the blanket. “Or do you need us in here, Doc?”
“Dinner would be mighty appreciated,” he said, still feeding the puppy in his arms. He glanced over at Hank. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Hank thought of the frozen dinners in the freezer that tasted like trash. He thought of how hard his brothers had worked all day and what a long afternoon it had been. Not just for them, but for him, too. He’d hosed off after helping a cow with a breech birth, but he still felt like he was covered in blood and birthing fluids. There were two more cattle they needed to keep an eye on tonight, a sick heifer, and six calves in the big herd that had been abandoned by their mothers. It was a mess, and nothing sounded better than a hot dinner . . . or, heck, even fresh coffee and doughnuts, despite the late hour.
He gazed at Becca for a long moment. Stared at her mouth for maybe a little longer than an uninterested man should. Then, because everyone seemed to be waiting on an answer, he grunted and headed back out to the barn.
* * *
* * *
When he got back to the barn, all heck broke loose and he didn’t have time to take another break or even think about dinner for hours. Caleb took the first shift off, cleaned up and headed into the kitchen, and then returned a short
time later with a handful of doughnuts and a huge thermos of coffee and parked himself next to Hank, who was feeling the stomach of a nervous cow about to give birth for the first time.
“That one turned?” Caleb asked, his face weary.
“Don’t think so.”
“Good. I’ve had enough turned births today.” He shook his head and shoved a full doughnut into his mouth. “Where’s Jack?”
“Showering. Be back in an hour or so.” Hank wiped his hands and gestured at the doughnuts. “Can I steal one of those?” He was starving, his stomach growling with hunger. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.
Caleb pulled back protectively. “Heck no. These are mine. Best thing I’ve eaten in months.” He took a big bite out of each one while Hank scowled at him. “Go get your own.”
Coffee and food sounded real good. So did sleep, but that probably wouldn’t be coming his way anytime soon. He needed to check on Libby, too. And Uncle Ennis. So he got to his feet and stretched. Damn, every bone in his body seemed to hurt. “You’ll be okay out here for a bit?”
“I’ll text ya if shit goes sideways.” And he took another bite of doughnut.
Hank thumped his brother’s hat and headed out of the barn. Every step toward the house made his feet feel as if they weighed a thousand pounds, but he’d been this tired before and worked through it. There had been runs in Alaska where he’d had to walk through thick snow to get to traps in the middle of the night, or that time that the roof collapsed with a storm incoming and had to be patched before anything else. He’d worked long stretches before. Inside, there’d be no time to rest, though, because Libby would need to be put to bed, and he’d have to help Uncle Ennis around, and the laundry needed doing and there wasn’t anyone else to do it.
The Cowboy Meets His Match Page 4
