Charming Jo

by Laura Drewry

  “Carrie helps out sometimes.” Levi caught the warning look she shot Joanna; he also caught that it went unheeded.

  “But only if we’re desperate,” Joanna snorted. “You’d be better off eating Newt’s sonuvabitch stew.”

  Ginny’s eyes widened, her face pinked, and her lips tightened into a thin white line.

  “Come on, Ginny.” Joanna gave her aunt a quick hug. “I’m just making fun.”

  Fun? Joanna McCaine knew how to make fun? Levi chuckled softly. Who knew?

  “You’d best go find Mac.” Ginny’s voice was soft and low, but the warning blared louder than a trumpet.

  Joanna nodded, kissed Ginny on the cheek and headed out the back door. If he had any sense at all, Levi would have turned tail and headed right back the way he’d come. The last thing he needed or wanted was to have to deal with someone like Mac McCaine. But the money was too good to pass up and damn if those McCaine girls weren’t something to look at, especially that little blonde one. Lord almighty, someone should have warned him. He’d best get out of the house before she reappeared and left him looking like a mule’s ass again.

  He hurried out the door but Joanna was half-way across the yard already. She didn’t just walk, she moved. Fast.

  “Bring your horse,” she called. “I’ll give you a quick tour of the place and then we’ll get started.”

  The layout of the ranch was typical of what he’d seen across the state. A couple dozen tall cottonwoods stood as a barrier between the main house and the rest of the ranch. On the far side of the trees, a large corral stood surrounded by the barns and stable, as well as the bunkhouse and two small cabins set apart from the rest. Thin clumps of grass lay along the ground, with spurts of bright yellow buttercups popping up here and there.

  Off to the east lay a huge spread of land, divided and sectioned off into smaller pens, and then further on lay the open range. Or, rather, the open range Joanna was bent on closing in.

  Hard to believe the McCaine girls hadn’t been married off already. Both good looking in their own ways, they obviously weren’t starving, and given the expansion Kansas had already seen, they were sitting on a huge chunk of prime land.

  Land. Theirs to do with as they pleased, with no one to answer to, and no one hunting them down for missed payments. It was a life Levi could get used to.

  He blinked hard and shook the thought from his brain. There was no way in hell he was going to toy with that idea. San Francisco is where he belonged and San Francisco is where he was going to be in a few short months.

  Too late, he caught Jo watching him.

  “Go ahead and say it.” She kept walking.

  “Say what?”

  “You have a problem with fencing.”

  He shrugged. “Not my place to say either way since it’s not my land.”

  “I’m sure you have an opinion though.” She looped her horse’s reins around the top rail of the corral and waited. Her fingers ran along the animal’s jaw, scratching his neck, around his ears and down his muzzle. He nickered softly and pressed his nose into her hand until she pulled a bit of biscuit from her pocket and offered it up for him to nibble.

  Levi secured his own mare as he swallowed back a chuckle. Damn, but she was ornery. A pushover with her horse, apparently, but ornery as hell with him.

  “Of course I have an opinion,” he said. “The entire state’s got an opinion on fencing.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Joanna pushed into the stable and started down the long row between the horses. She peeked into each stall as they walked by.

  “You think it’s a better idea to go on losing cattle to other ranchers every year who apparently don’t notice the huge double-M on the backs of our herd? Guess they figure because we’re girls, we’re too stupid to know how to count or read.”

  She was something to watch when she moved. Long, determined strides, her hips swaying just a touch beneath the heavy denim of her father’s pants. Levi blinked hard.

  “You’ve been neighbors with these people for what – twenty years?” he asked. “Why would they start stealing your cattle now?”

  “I’m not saying they’re stealing them.” But when she looked back, her green eyes said otherwise. “I’m simply saying that big parts of our herd seem to end up in someone else’s herd every year. Is it intentional?” She shrugged. “Who’s to say? But it’s been happening for years and I’m tired of it.”

  They continued their progression through the stable, with Joanna pausing at every stall to peek in and around the various horses. “Pa always turned a blind eye to it; didn’t want to believe his neighbors would do such a thing. But I’m not blind, Travers, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone take what is rightfully mine.”

  She stopped at the furthest stall door, her expression softened. “There you are.”

  A young boy, in tattered black pants and shirt, scampered out, his arms wrapped around two squirming brown puppies. His coal-black hair didn’t look like it’d seen a comb in a month of Sundays and his feet were completely bare. “I-I was j-just tendin’ to the p-puppies, Miss Joanna.”

  “And doing a good job of it, by the looks of things.” Joanna’s voice took a slightly gentler tone as she lifted one of the pups from the boy’s arms. “Travers, this is Clay. He helps out around here.”

  Clay’s rounded brown eyes stared back, the other pup clutched tightly to his chest.

  “Good to meet you, Clay,” Levi said. “Do your folks work here, too?”

  The boy ran a filthy hand under his nose. “Don’t got no folks.”

  Levi’s belly knotted. The boy couldn’t have been more than six or seven.

  “But M-miss Joanna lets me stay with Newt ‘cause he ain’t got no f-folks neither.”

  “Good idea.” Levi squatted down in front of the boy and held out his hands until Clay placed the pup in them. “Being alone’s not much fun, is it?”

  “N-no, sir.”

  “How long’ve you been helping out here?”

  When the boy shrugged, Levi turned his face to Joanna, who’s brow was cocked in surprise. Seemed to take her a while to find her voice.

  “Um, I guess it’s been about six months or so,” she said, turning away from him.

  Clay stepped back into the stall and bent to fuss over the other puppies wrestling each other inside their crate.

  Joanna leaned a little closer to Levi, but not too close. “Newt found him sleeping out by the pond last fall. Poor kid won’t let anyone do anything for him, except Newt. You’d think they were sewn at the hip most days.”

  The knot in Levi’s belly tightened. What would come of this poor kid – a boy who’s only family was a crippled up ornery old man who could barely care for himself, never mind a child, and a litter of rag-tag puppies.

  But then again, an ornery old man and a few puppies sure beat a house full of whores, rats and a mangy three-legged cat, didn’t it?

  Levi pushed himself up to stand, placed the puppy back in Clay’s arms, then nodded toward the squirming mound of fluff as it settled against the child’s chest.

  “It’s a big job tending to a litter, isn’t it?”

  The worry began to drift from Clay’s eyes. “Y-yes, sir. ‘Specially since their mama’s up ‘n gone.”

  Levi crossed his arms. “Then I reckon they’ll be needing a family, too.”

  A slight shrug. “Reckon.” Clay wiped his nose again.

  “Clay does a good job for us,” Joanna interrupted with a smile, then handed her pup back as well. “Have you seen Mac?”

  The boy winced. “In the b-bunkhouse. W-Walt’s been drinkin’ again.”

  Joanna’s face turned to granite. “Saddle his horse.”

  She made for the far door, her boots kicking up a cloud of dust behind her. Watching her walk away made Levi’s brain do a two-step for a moment before he regained his senses.

  With a quick nod to Clay, he hurried to catch up. Again
. She covered the distance between the stable and the bunkhouse in less than a dozen long strides, her arms swinging at her sides, her back straight as a rod.

  This was going to be a show Levi didn’t want to miss; here’s where he’d see her in action, to see what how she held up against that uncle of hers, and maybe even a chance to watch those eyes of hers flash and spark again. Should be good.

  Joanna stormed up the steps and threw open the bunkhouse door. Levi hung back at the bottom of the steps and waited. No way was he going to follow her in – that’d be like going into a room with a cornered raccoon.

  “Get him outta here, Mac.” Her roar sent a flurry of yellow-breasted meadowlarks scattering from their perches high above the bunkhouse. “I don’t want to see his face on my land again.”

  “Just hold on a minute, Jo.” Levi couldn’t see the man behind the voice, but recognized it as Mac McCaine’s; hard, cold and surprisingly weary. “We’re already down three men, we can’t afford to lose any more.”

  “I don’t care if we lose the whole lot of them,” she stormed. “I won’t have drunks on my payroll. Get him outta here.”

  She charged back outside, her finger pointed right at Levi, and her voice splitting the air like an axe. “Tell me now, Travers. Is this what I should expect from you, too?” The faster she moved toward him, the faster he backed up until he nearly tripped over the bottom step of the nearest cabin. Joanna stopped mere inches from him, her eyes wild. “If this is how it’s going to be with you, too, then you just get right back on that horse of yours and ride out the way you came in.”

  He didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to but because he couldn’t. He guessed he should have been a little intimidated by her, but all he could think about was the way her eyes flashed green fire when she yelled; about the barely noticeable freckles dotting her face, and the way he’d like nothing more than to kiss that tight little frown off her mouth.

  They stood in silence for a long moment, gazes locked on each other, his temperature warming up until it almost matched hers.

  “I’ll say it one more time just so we’re clear.” She lowered her voice, but her eyes still blazed. “No drinking on my time. Not a drop. I don’t even want to think you might be carrying a flask, got it?”

  “Got it.” His whisper barely reached his own ears. An odd feeling settled over him; one he couldn’t place. But whatever it was, it didn’t sit well. He’d never seen a woman so mad. Or so damned sexy.

  If he didn’t put some distance between them, some kind of distraction, he was going to haul her up into his arms and kiss every last ounce of that anger away. And a woman that passionate. . .

  He stepped back, swallowed hard and grabbed at the first thing he could think of. Cows. Thank God there was a couple of them bawling inside the barn – gave him the perfect distraction.

  “You don’t think putting up a fence is a waste of money?” He cleared his throat and continued. “Wouldn’t it be better spent somewhere else – like on hiring more help?”

  The change of topic seemed to work; the color in her cheeks began to fade and the pulse in her throat slowed. A little.

  “Hiring more help?” Joanna snorted – just like she did in the restaurant earlier. The sound made Levi want to laugh. Ladies didn’t – or shouldn’t – make noises like that. “In case you missed it, Travers, men don’t want to work for me no matter how much I pay them.”

  “I’m here.”

  “Only because I’m paying you a small fortune and I couldn’t get anyone else.” As the last word settled on the air, Joanna’s face flushed a deep pink. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  Levi forced a grin and shrugged. “Truth ain’t always nice, Miss Joanna.” Fact was, the truth was never nice about him, and up to that moment it had never bothered him one bit.

  “Anyway,” Joanna continued, averting her gaze. “Once it’s up, I won’t be losing any more cattle. There’s money saved already. I won’t have to keep so many hands on the payroll because one man can do almost twice the job if it’s fenced. . .”

  “Not quite.”

  She was making sense, but he couldn’t give in that easily – not when it meant she’d stop talking and her eyes would stop flashing those brilliant emerald flames.

  She shrugged. “Close enough.”

  Two men staggered out of the bunkhouse – one propped against the other – just as Clay led a tired-looking old nag toward them. The drunk man barely made it into his saddle before Clay turned the horse and led them toward the road.

  Joanna clicked her tongue before continuing. “Sure, the initial cost will be huge, but look at the long term. It’s going to save us time and money. How can that be wrong?”

  “How many miles of fence line are you looking at?”

  “Thirty-nine.” When he openly gaped at her, she smiled a little. And what a smile. It transformed her whole presence from a bossy, stubborn crank to a beautiful, soft woman.

  “Okay,” she continued. “So thirty-nine miles will take a while to string. But once it’s up, we won’t need to post as many riders out there. Instead of one man riding a six or seven mile stretch, chasing cattle on or off our land, he can cover twice that – easily – and still have time to do repairs and tend the cattle in his area. And best of all – no more round-ups.”

  Which meant no more having to hire men like him. Levi shrugged it off. Didn’t matter to him, anyway.

  “I just don’t think I could lock out my neighbors.”

  “They’re not your neighbors. They’re mine. And I don’t think of it as locking my neighbors out. I think of it as locking my livelihood in.”

  With a toss of her head, Joanna dismissed any further conversation and turned toward the bunkhouse. A middle-aged man in dusty denim stepped toward them, his arms full of whiskey bottles, some empty, some not-so-empty.

  “Mac,” Joanna said. “You already know Travers.”

  Mac McCaine eyed Levi with a look meant to maim. “What the hell’s he doing here?”

  “He’s working.” Her back seemed to straighten as she spoke. “Or he will be once you start moving.”

  “He’s not working here.”

  Levi stepped forward. “Look, Mac, I know we’ve. . .”

  “Stay out of this, Travers.” Joanna put up a hand between the men. “This is my ranch, Mac, and as you just pointed out, we’re down three men already.”

  “Four,” Levi mumbled, casting a glace the way Clay and Walt had just gone.

  “Right, four.” She threw Levi a half nod, then wiped her sleeve over her brow and continued. “We need the cattle tended, the work done and the fence built – all before roundup. Travers is going to help us make sure it gets done.”

  Mac made no attempt to hide his dislike. “Not him.”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “Him.”

  “There’s gotta be someone else --”

  “There isn’t.”

  “Did you talk to Lefty? He must know --”

  “He’s the one who told me about Travers.”

  Levi resisted the urge to wave his hand between them. Did they even remember he was standing there?

  “But what about him and the Pearson girl?” It was pretty amazing that Mac could speak through teeth clenched that hard.

  “What about it?” Joanna fisted her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “It has nothing to do with his ability to work.”

  Mac pointed one of the empty bottles toward Levi. “He got that girl in trouble and then turned tail and ran. We don’t need his kind of help around here.”

  Joanna snorted. “Takes two to make trouble, Mac, and the LeeAnna Pearson I know isn’t above getting herself – and plenty of others around her - into a little trouble.”

  Why was Joanna defending him? She didn’t even know him – and those who did had never bothered doing it. Levi frowned. His mother hadn’t even done it.

  With a shake of his head, Mac set the armload of bottles in a pile by the cabin steps. “Doesn�
�t make him any less responsible.”

  “I don’t care. He’s here, he’s willing and he’s able – that’s all that matters right now. He can deal with LeeAnna on his own time.” Joanna led them back toward the corral where they’d left their horses. “When round-up’s over, we’ll have the luxury of being picky. Right now, we need help and he’s all there is.”

  “But Jo, he’s --”

  “On the payroll,” she said, with a note of finality.

  Silence stretched between the three of them; Joanna and Mac stared each other down for long moments before Mac finally sighed and threw up his hands.

  “So you’re going ahead with the fence?” He rubbed his thick fingers over his face.

  “Yes. You knew that.”

  “Your Pa wouldn’t want this, Joey. You know how he felt about fencing in the land.”

  Joanna’s face turned the deepest shade of red Levi had ever seen. Almost bordered on purple. She wrapped her fingers around her horse’s reins and turned to face her uncle.

  “Yes, well, Pa’s not here anymore, is he? If he was, I wouldn’t be standing here in his clothes making decisions like this. And you wouldn’t be all in a tizzy because I had to go and hire someone like Travers.” She jerked her head toward Levi, sending her braid swishing from shoulder to shoulder.

  If she wasn’t such a sight when she was mad, Levi might have been insulted.

  “Jo.” Mac’s tone held more than just a little warning, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

  Maybe the stories of Joanna McCaine were true – maybe she did rule with an iron fist. Because from the look falling over Mac’s face, this argument was long over. Mac McCaine didn’t lose arguments; it just wasn’t done. Yet there he stood, facing down his niece and losing – badly.

  “He’s the only available body we can find to work and having him here will get you back where you belong – out from under foot and back with the herd.”

  “But. . .”

  “I’ve made my decision, Mac.” Then, as he’d seen her do earlier, Joanna mounted her horse in one graceful motion.

  “Where are you going?” Mac asked, his voice still tight.

  “Check on Clay. Put Travers to work and I’ll see you at supper. He can do Walt’s job until Chuck delivers the wire for the fence. Should be here in a couple days.”