by Tori Kayson
She glared at her brother. “You don’t need to worry about us.”
“You sure about that, little sister?” Fargo’s concerned gaze bounced off the two of them and then he was gone.
A rogue wind riffled the leaves of the trees in front of the makeshift kitchen. The scent of sausage was strong, but she also caught a hint of sea breeze and woods and herbs.
Hawk’s scent. His back was to her now, his broad shoulders covered by a white shirt. Muscles strained against the flimsy material. Jeans covered long, runner legs. He twisted to grab some plates and one word from the apron snagged her attention. Kiss.
She swallowed.
No, Fargo. She wasn’t sure about that at all.
****
Hawk guided the calf with the chopper then circled back for what had to be the thousandth time today, hoping to single out Kierra in the sea of cattle and clusters of horses and riders. Had she noticed that he seemed to be directly overhead a lot?
The dust cleared a bit.
There! She stood out from the others, not just from the cherry red color of her shirt, but the way she carried herself on her horse. Confident and graceful. As if she and her mount were one.
Which was more than could be said about him. Three or four hours on the back of a horse now was enough to make him reach for the bottle of ibuprofen. What would he do if a judge demanded him to change occupations as part of a custody settlement?
What would he do if he couldn’t be a cowboy? This was all he knew.
He had a lot of time to think up here, just him and wide open sky.
What would his life be like now had he not allowed his anger and stubborn pride to overrule his heart back then? He was quite sure he’d be married to Kierra with at least three kids, maybe more. If he had his way, there’d be five or six.
And kinship with the Kesters would’ve closed up that massive hole of loneliness that only grew wider and deeper with every day.
A heavy sigh lifted his chest. “Not much you can do about it now.”
Besides, he had Cody. So, he’d made some poor choices, but what teenager didn’t? How could he complain? Time to stop dwelling on his regrets and start making better choices for his future.
A horse pulled up beside Kierra, matching her strides, so close the horses jostled together. The fake cowboy leaned in toward Kierra’s neck. Kissing her?
Hawk’s molars ground together as he angled the bird around to get a better view.
Yeah, of the wide smile on Kierra’s happy face.
What happened to rounding up cattle?
His jaw popped from clenching. The confines of the chopper closed in on him. What he wouldn’t give right now to be on horseback, to chase Sterling the Editor away with just a look.
At one time, he’d been the only guy to make Kierra’s face light up like that. But he’d ruined it.
No, his future didn’t include Kierra. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t settle down in Coldwater Ridge, keep his job with Kester Ranch. He just needed to steer clear of the beautiful woman who’d lassoed and held on tight to a huge chunk of his heart.
Because if he didn’t…
Hawk halted that line of thought. Cody needed him. He refused to allow anything—or anyone—to come between him and his goal of full custody.
A calf broke away from the crowd, veering off to hide in a mass of overgrown bushes. Hawk took one last long look at Kierra, still huddled close to the fake cowboy, then headed to intercept the cute baby.
He was here for his kid, not the woman. But maybe one day she’d see him for the man he tried to be now, not the jerk who broke her heart.
****
Kierra twisted her hair into a messy knot on the back of her head and surveyed the result in the mirror. After two tortuous days riding in the saddle, sleeping on the ground in tents and spot bathing in creeks, they’d finally made it to the holding corrals and the semi-permanent camp. Not that the next couple of days wouldn’t be arduous with sorting, branding and inoculating calves, but at least she’d sleep in a real bed tonight. And that cool shower felt divine.
She adjusted a few unruly strands and surveyed the whole package. Fresh pair of clean jeans and a cotton peasant top. The bare minimum in makeup. She sniffed, satisfied at just a hint of her favorite perfume, then snorted.
Enough already! Mercy! Who was she trying to impress?
Hawk’s image from that morning rose up like a snapshot worn and faded from too much handling. The one of him angling over a shoulder to thank her for helping with breakfast, his smile sexy and intoxicating, the heavy stubble covering his cheeks from days on the trail oh-so-tempting to her fingers. And if that wasn’t bad enough to shipwreck her day, the constant thwopping of the chopper’s blades as it circled overhead kicked up her pulse and kept ping-ponging that alluring smile through her head.
Keep your focus on the big picture, she scolded. Or you’ll ruin everything your family has worked so hard for, the ranch, our livelihood, our home! This isn’t just about you. This one interview may not make or break Kester Ranch, but it’ll surely go a long way to make that next balloon payment.
Yeah. That’s why she was primping. Not because of Hawk.
Lifting her chin, she stepped back from the mirror. Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d finally believe it.
Jamming the few basic products she’d brought back in her cosmetic pouch, she exited the rustic dorm style bathroom and tossed it on the bottom bunk. Next to the king-sized bag of candy.
Great! As if she needed another reminder of Hawk.
But, she could definitely use a snack to tide her over until dinner. And the peanuts were protein, right? She popped a couple in her mouth, snatched up her tablet and turned just as the door to the female bunkroom banged against the wall. Wincing, Kierra made a mental note to add doorstop to Uncle Chips’ to-do list.
“Oh, hey. You look…fresh.” Shana’s gaze slid up Kierra’s form.
Kierra chuckled. “As opposed to ripe?” Heaven knew days on a dusty trail would make anyone long for a shower. “Your turn?”
“Oh yeah!” Her bunk mate sat on the edge of a bed and leaned over to dig through her pack. She pulled out a pair of lacey underwear, a tangle of strings holding flimsy pieces of material that served as a combination bra and shirt, and a pair of shorts that would barely cover that well-rounded rear. Maybe.
Kierra gulped and averted her eyes, giving the girl some privacy. But…really? Clutching the tablet to her chest and gripping the candy in her greedy hand, she skirted around Shana’s growing pile of clothes on the floor.
“Hey.” Shana’s high pitched demand stopped her. “Do you know anything about the chopper cowboy? Man, is that dude blazing hot or what?”
Kierra’s fingers coiled around the doorknob, squeezing it until her knuckles cracked, mirroring the turmoil churning and coiling in her belly. She twisted over a shoulder.
Shana had loosened the band holding up her thick blonde hair, and silky looking waves cascaded over a bare shoulder. Only a towel hid the girl’s voluptuous curves. As if a towel could hide them. The girl was beautiful and young, and obviously putting herself out there. If Shana set her sights on Hawk, she’d have no trouble snagging the cowboy.
Just like Brigit.
Kierra swallowed a huge lump of…what? Not jealousy, that’s for sure. A decade of rage, hurt and betrayal, all rolled into a terrifying tsunami, threatening to crash her fragile wall of self-preservation. Way more than she could handle right now, just minutes before she was due to meet with the editor of a magazine that would map out her family’s future. But this was a guest, and she couldn’t afford to be rude. “Um…”
“He is your employee after all, right? Surely you must have the goods.”
“Actually, my brother hired him.” That was the truth. Basic. Elemental. So why did the slightest twinge of falsehood prick her conscience?
She loosened her hold on the knob, felt the blood flow through her veins again, and twisted until t
he door was half open. But apparently the girl wasn’t done inflicting damage.
“Fargo? Now that’s another hottie. If he wasn’t constantly fiddling with that ring on his finger and didn’t give off such ‘don’t bother me’ vibes—”
Meaning Hawk did give off the right vibes? “I’m sorry, Shana. I have an appointment and I don’t want to be late.”
Chocolate. She needed chocolate and now! And if that didn’t make a dent in calming her frayed nerves, coffee would. She’d grab a cup on her way to meet Sterling. Once wobbly legs propelled her through the opening, she tilted her head back and popped a couple chocolate coated peanuts into her mouth.
And plowed into a massive wall of something. Hands suddenly circled her upper arms, and her cheek pressed against a soft shirt. Make that somebody.
Her tablet landed on the ground with a loud thunk. Pieces of bright colored candy littered the grass around her boots.
“Oh no!” Crouching, she plucked the candy so the dogs didn’t find it later and get sick. But, mostly, she was upset with herself for losing the chocolate.
For losing the man.
Grit stung her eyes, but she blinked the salty moisture back.
Denim covered knees landed on the ground next to her, and a masculine scent drifted in. Fresh and clean like an ocean breeze.
Hawk. The last person in this camp she wanted to see right now.
“Does the five second rule count out here?” he asked, a hint of humor in his voice. He extracted the remaining few pieces of candy from the ground and held out his palm.
Her traitorous gaze landed on his rounded mouth. Two grooves curved on either side. Quotation marks, she used to call them. Whiskered cheeks puffed out with amusement and kindness shimmered from silver eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat.
Why did he have to be so good looking that all the girls wanted him? Why couldn’t he just be average looking? And why did he have to smell so wonderful?
Why did he have to sleep with Brigit?
All that angst she just left back in the bunkroom with Shana threatened to spill out in angry tears.
She snorted and stuffed the pieces one-by-one back in the bag, plotting to dump the entire lot when she got her coffee. If she could only get rid of him, of the feelings and memories he dredged up, as easily.
“Chocolate isn’t good for the dogs.” Just like Hawk wasn’t good for her. Hadn’t she already learned that lesson? Why play with fire? Her fist closed over the dirty candy. She scooped up the tablet and stretched to her full height, determined to get away from the flame. “Sorry for running into you.” Her brain ordered her legs to move. Pronto!
“You seem mighty anxious to get to the kitchen.”
She glared at him.
Confidence literally oozed from his expression and in the long easy strides, one to every two of hers, his back proud and straight. And the look he tossed her way, amused and inviting.
The man was so full of himself! As if it wasn’t bad enough that a twenty something female flaunted herself at him, now he was flirting with her too?
They reached the outdoor kitchen. She lifted her chin and faced him, schooling her expression. Wrangled those conflicting emotions into submission, so he couldn’t see the battle waging war inside. “That’s where you’re wrong, cowboy. I’m meeting Sterling.”
His step hiccupped, but he recovered almost instantly. His Adam’s apple slid up and down his whiskered throat and his jaw tightened until a tic pulsed.
Satisfaction trickled through her veins as she tossed the candy in the garbage and filled two cups with freshly brewed coffee. Tucking the tablet under an arm, she gathered all the dignity she could muster and headed for the prearranged meeting spot, hoping she didn’t trip and make a fool of herself.
“Kierra?” The masculine voice stopped her, held her hostage. Boots crunched through autumn dried leaves behind her and that subtle fresh sea breeze scent suddenly drifted into her zone, just as powerful and alluring as the java aroma curling up to tease her.
“Here. A replacement. I know how you like chocolate with your coffee.” He tucked the bag of candy in her back jeans pocket.
When she sucked in a breath and held it, his face beamed with confidence again. “Don’t forget kitchen duty. See you in a few minutes.”
Drat him! That entire display was for nothing. He could see right through her.
6
Hawk set the last rib on the grill. The meat sizzled and the smoky aroma wafted up while he flipped the ears of corn then stirred the baked beans. He mentally ticked off what needed to be done before they could eat.
Still no sign of Kierra. No Kierra, no desserts for dinner. He could only do so much solo.
The two Koolies pranced around his legs.
“Hey, boys. Want a snack?” He tossed them a couple treats. “That’ll tide you over until dinner.”
They chomped greedily and then sat on their haunches, their tails swirling against the grass, begging for seconds.
He obliged. “One more, you little beggars.”
“You’re spoiling them.” Fargo lathered and rinsed his hands. “You keep doing that and they’ll be hanging out in the kitchen every night with you.”
“They’re welcome to. I wouldn’t mind the company.” Although he preferred Kierra’s to the furry friends, but hey, he wouldn’t object to both.
“Smells good,” Fargo said, twisting over a shoulder, taking a quick glance at dinner.
“Thanks, boss. I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
Fargo snatched a towel from the hook and dried his hands. “Speaking of company, where’s Kierra?”
“She had a meeting with that editor dude.”
Fargo bent over to dig through the cooler and came out with a soda. Scowling, he flicked the melting ice off his hand and nudged a hip against the counter. When the carbonation stopped fizzing, he took a long swig. Swiped a sleeve across his face. “Did she say when she’d be finished? She’s supposed to be here helping you with cooking duties.”
“She’ll be here soon.” He didn’t know that for sure. Nor had Kierra given him any indication. But he didn’t want Fargo upset with her. “Everything’s under control.” Well, except dessert, but no need to spring that on the boss.
Fargo didn’t usually stick around for dessert anyway, and he didn’t seem particularly fond of any of the ranch guests. Steered clear of most of them when the work day was over. Even pitched a tent a fair distance away from the camp so he didn’t have to mingle with the wannabe cowboys.
Beads of moisture speckled his boss’s upper lip as he studied Hawk. “I’m glad you decided to come work for us.”
Hawk held steady under his boss’s scrutiny. “Same here. I hope you’ll keep me on after this trip.”
“I hope you’ll be willing to stay on after this trip.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Hawk gave the beans another stir, turned around and backed his rear against the counter, arms folded.
Fargo drained the soda then crumpled the can with his fist. He blew out a hefty sigh. “You and my sister didn’t exactly part on the best terms. Quite ugly, actually.”
How much had Kierra told her brother?
“I came to pick her up, you know.” Kierra’s brother drilled him with a look.
So, pretty much every sordid detail. “Prom night?”
Fargo nodded. “So I can understand why she’s not thrilled that you’re here.”
What could Hawk say? He might as well kiss this great job goodbye. And, man, he’d just signed the lease on that cute little house. Would he be able to snag another job in Coldwater Ridge that paid enough to hang onto the house? And how would he break the news to Cody?
His hopes swirled, like circling a drain, then whooshed away from him. He dipped his chin. Strangled the moan that threatened to break apart his very soul.
“But I believe in second chances.”
Hawk whipped his head toward Fargo, fresh optimism rekindling in his gut.
“Shoot fire! I’m a prime example. Who’d have thought I’d be married with another child right now.” A wondrous smile curved Fargo’s mouth, softened his face.
Hawk’s new landlady had given him an earful about the Kester family. Not that he put much stock in gossip, but if he was going to list his employer as a reference and have it hold up in court, he probably should know how the community felt about the Kesters. He’d listened only halfheartedly while Mrs. Harper droned for at least an hour, until her voice dropped to a whisper.
“You know that the oldest son raised that boy on his own, don’t you?” She hadn’t waited for a response, just forged on. “Yes, they were practically newlyweds when that wife committed suicide. She’d never liked it here. Made that well known around town. Anyway, Fargo took it pretty hard. Stuck to the ranch like hot gum on the bottom of your shoe, he did. And to think she left him with a three-month-old infant.” The woman shook her gray head, a tsking noise coming from her throat.
As if she hadn’t tossed a grenade on his lap.
Hawk had ached for the woman who’d suffered with a private pain so deep, so painful that she chose death over life. And he could relate to the cowboy who couldn’t imagine what he would do, who he would be, if he couldn’t ranch.
Even now, his throat swelled with emotion. But, it was obvious that Fargo was deliriously happy. The man seemed more content and at peace than any of the earlier years that Hawk had known him.
Fargo broke into his musing. “Darby broke through a years-long dark cloud that had settled over me. It wasn’t easy for either of us, and I’m sure she probably felt like giving up on me. But she was definitely worth it. I wouldn’t trade a minute of it for what we have now.” Fargo’s greenish gold eyes regarded him. “I think you’re exactly the man Kierra needs.”
“You do?” Hawk cleared his throat after that awkward squawk.
“Yeah. She was madder than a riled up hornet’s nest that night. But she was also hurt. And I’m not just talking superficial. Whatever you did was deep and cut her to the soul. She didn’t come out of her room for days.”
