Chapter 2
The last thing Dillon wanted to do was hire someone that could be responsible for opening Legacy’s gate so the stallion could get out. However, Cal had saved her life. She might have said she was fine, but she was anything but.
Dillon could have dismissed the accidents around the ranch lately as simply that, but she couldn’t with this. Someone had shot at her. Actually, fired at her with the intention of ending her life. There was no doubt in her mind.
And she knew who was responsible—Hank Stephens.
No matter how scared she was, she couldn’t show fear.
Not to anyone. Not even to those working for her that she trusted.
People like Hank Stephens could sniff out fear like a shark smelled blood.
The only way she would survive was to carry on much like a man would.
Because she was in a man’s world. As much as she wished it otherwise, it was a fact.
“We’ve lost two workers in the last week,” Emmett said, bringing her back from her thoughts.
As if she had forgotten. She didn’t need Emmett broadcasting such things. But she knew why he’d said it. He used it as a reason to hire Cal.
Everyone was afraid. She was, too, but she wouldn’t be forced off her land.
She didn’t blame any of the workers for leaving.
They owed her nothing. They were protecting themselves and their families.
She would have done the same in their positions.
However, that left her in a bind. She, Emmett, and Dusty were doing double the work.
If the ranch lost another worker, she wasn’t sure how they would continue.
Dillon found herself staring into Cal’s gray eyes.
They reminded her of the clouds in the afternoon that would cover the summer sky before unleashing violent thunderstorms. His gaze was just as penetrating and direct.
He had dirt on his right cheek from where he had been sleeping when she found him.
His dark blond hair needed to be cut and was in disarray from his wild night under the stars.
He had sharp cheekbones and hollowed cheeks that she found appealing—even though she didn’t want to.
She tried not to notice his strong jawline or the fact that he had a chin dimple.
His white, button-down shirt was filthy, but it allowed her to see his broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist with an impressive belt buckle and then down long legs.
Handsome? Oh, yes, he was definitely that and more.
If she were in the market to date, she would flirt.
Not that it would take much. He had an easy way about him, a calming vibe that drew her like a moth to a flame.
His crooked grin made her stomach flutter.
His strong arms as he tackled her to the ground had been firm but gentle.
She wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him.
Her thoughts halted when she realized that some of the dirt covering his shirt and jeans was from saving her.
All thoughts of romance fell away as anxiety took hold.
Odd things had been happening around the ranch, but this was the first time someone had taken a shot at her.
It had shaken her. She shouldn’t have been on that part of the ranch.
She’d assumed that Cal had left the gate open when he came through, but now she wondered if that were true.
There were two other places much closer to the road where Cal could’ve gotten onto the ranch rather than coming to the house and opening the gate so the horses could get out.
If he hadn’t left the gate open, that meant someone else had. Someone who wanted to make sure she was on that part of the ranch. Someone who’d left the halter near the creek so she would see it and stop—giving them a perfect shot at her.
“It’s true,” she told Cal. “I could use some help, and you did tell me you didn’t qualify for the rodeo.”
He shifted his feet. “I did.”
Dillon didn’t know him, and she certainly didn’t trust him. But it had been hell trying to find someone to work for her. She was desperate, and desperate people did desperate things. “Are you up for the job?”
“I am,” he replied as he settled his hat atop his head.
“You can stay in the bunkhouse if you’d like.”
Emmett made a sound in the back of his throat. “If he’s going to be your bodyguard, shouldn’t he stay in the house?”
“Bodyguard?” she asked, taken aback. For just a moment, the thought of him by her side all day didn’t sound half bad. He was nice to look at. Too nice, actually. “I never said he would have such a position.”
Cal shrugged. “It seems like you need someone to watch over you. Or do I need to remind you how close that bullet came?”
“I don’t need reminding,” she snapped. Damn, if her thoughts didn’t take her back to how it’d felt to be in his arms. She inwardly shook herself, angry that her mind kept drifting to places it had no business going.
Then she took a deep breath and tried to get control of her emotions.
She didn’t like that she was now scared to be out by herself.
Would it really hurt her pride to have someone watching out for her? “I’ll be fine alone in the house.”
Emmett scratched his head before replacing his Stetson. “I disagree, but you’re the boss. I’d advise you never to be alone. Not even when you head into town.”
It was on the tip of Dillon’s tongue to argue that was taking things too far, but she could still hear the retort of the gun in her thoughts. Her vanity wasn’t so great that she couldn’t admit when she needed help.
Even when it meant trusting a stranger.
She caught Cal’s gaze. “If I find out you were sent to harm me, anyone on this property, or to take my ranch from me, I’ll hunt you down.”
“Understood,” he replied.
Emmett flashed her a smile. “I don’t know ‘bout you, but I feel better. Now, I take it you didn’t find Legacy?”
She shook her head. “There were no tracks, either.”
“I’ll head out with Dusty and see what we can find,” Emmett told her.
Dillon wanted a few minutes alone so she could fully process what had happened that morning between discovering her stallion gone, finding Cal, and being shot at.
But it didn’t look like that would happen.
She could’ve told Emmett that she would take his spot, but she didn’t want to be back out there just yet.
For all she knew, the shooter was lying in wait for her.
She blew out a breath, her gaze returning to Cal. A shiver took her when she found his eyes locked on her. She wished she knew what he was thinking. And she really wished she could stop remembering being in his arms. “Shall we head to Ike’s to see if your truck is there?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Dillon eyed him. He looked better than he had when she first found him, but not by much. “You aren’t going to vomit in my truck, are you?”
“I should be good.”
“Do you need food? Water?”
“If you don’t mind.”
She motioned for him to follow as she made her way to the house and up the two porch steps.
Dillon opened the back door and removed her hat to hang it on the hook near the door.
She then went to the sink and washed her hands.
A smile tugged at her lips when she spotted Cal looking around the kitchen.
“This was my aunt’s place,” she told him.
“It has been in the Young family since 1863. She left it to me when she passed away a little over a year ago. She was what most people would call an eccentric.” Dillon shut off the water and dried her hands.
“The truth is, she liked her independence. She also liked doing things her way. Some men can’t stand taking orders from a woman. ”
Cal glanced at her. “Times have changed.”
“Have they?” She knew for a fact that wasn’t entirely true.
“This place is beautiful.”
“Aunt Dolly liked nice things. She kept the house updated, and she loved to splurge on a few items that would be conversation pieces.” Dillon hung up the towel as she smiled, thinking of her aunt.
“She was my favorite person. I loved her style and her flair for doing whatever she wanted. She never cared what anyone thought.”
“She sounds like a wonderful person.” Cal turned to her. “She didn’t have any kids?”
“You think there’s a disgruntled family member angry that they didn’t get the ranch?
That would be easy. Dolly never had any children.
I have cousins, but none were even remotely interested in the ranch, and she left each of them sizable monetary gifts.
Trust me, they think I got the bad end of the stick.
I was the only one who ever showed an interest in the ranch, but even so, I never thought she would leave it to me. ”
Cal shot her a flat look. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I do. She never asked if I wanted it. I never said I did. I worked for a bank in Fort Worth. I came here often. For me, it was a vacation. Even after I graduated college, I still visited as often as I could.” Dillon motioned to the stools at the island.
“Have a seat. I’ll see what I can find in the fridge. ”
“Do you mind if I wash up?” he asked.
She leaned back to look at him around the fridge door. “Take the hallway. First door on the left.”
Dillon set out bread, roast from the night before, cheese, and some condiments so Cal could make a sandwich. When he took longer than expected, she sliced the roast and set about making it for him. She ate a slice of meat herself before putting everything away.
“You didn’t tell me I had dirt on my cheek,” Cal said as he returned.
She smiled, shrugging. “Oops.”
He made a sound as he removed his hat and set it on the island. “Is that for me?”
For a second, she couldn’t answer. Not only had he cleaned the dirt from his face, but he had finger-combed his hair.
He’d been handsome in a hungover kind of way.
Now . . . well, now she was faced with how it might have been had she met him some other way.
The way her stomach fluttered told her that she certainly wouldn’t have been demanding he leave.
His stormy gray eyes watched her closely, causing her to clear her throat as she tried to remember what they had been talking about.
“Yes,” she said as she caught sight of the meal. “That’s for you.”
“Thank you.”
He didn’t ask what it was, simply lifted the sandwich and began eating. He scarfed it down in record time, causing Dillon to wonder if she should’ve made two. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the napkin and put the plate in the sink.
“Would it be too much trouble for some coffee?” he asked.
Dillon motioned to the single-serve coffee maker so he could choose whatever flavor he wanted. After he had prepared his coffee and put the lid on the paper cup, he put his Stetson back on his head and gave her a nod.
She grabbed her keys and hat and left the house, silently urging herself to stop thinking about him.
Once they were in the truck and headed into town, she became conscious of their confinement.
Of how close he was. Of how close he had been earlier when someone had shot at her.
Of how she hadn’t wanted him to let her go.
“When did it start?”
Dillon jerked at the sound of Cal’s voice. She had forgotten that he was in the vehicle with her. “Sorry? What?”
“When did things begin happening around the ranch? To you?”
“About five months ago. An offer to buy the ranch came through a law firm acting as a go-between. I declined and told the firm that I wasn’t interested in selling.
A week later, the second offer came. I declined four in total, all of them doubling in price by the end. It was way too high for the property.”
Cal let out a whistle. “That much, huh? I suppose that made you suspicious.”
“Yep. But, really, it came down to the fact that I’m happy there. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt myself. No amount of money in the world could make me give up the ranch.”
“By the way things have turned, I’m guessing the buyers have realized that, as well.”
Dillon gripped the steering wheel tighter at his words. “If I die, the ranch passes to another family member.”
“You said yourself, they aren’t interested. How likely are they to sell?”
“They wouldn’t hesitate.”
Cal grunted. “That’s what I assumed. Why does this buyer want the ranch so badly?”
“I have no idea,” she said as she glanced at a fence along the main road.
“Do you know who it is?”
She snorted. “Everyone does.”
“And who would that be?” Cal asked.
“Hank Stephens. He owns the Ivy Ridge Ranch that surrounds mine. He tried to get Dolly to sell for years.”