Chapter Fourteen
As I walk down the long hallway back to the living room, I can feel her settling into me.
I doubt she even realizes it…but I smile, because she feels safe.
I sit her down in the recliner then pull the handle on the side.
“Thanks.” She whispers as she adjusts herself into a comfortable position.
But as I watch her, I notice something—her zipper is down.
Shit, she’s wearing pink panties. I wouldn't have assumed her to wear something so feminine—but hey, since the moment I met her, I knew it was just a front. Well, payback’s a bitch, baby.
“So…” I hum deep in my throat. “pink is your favorite color?”
Her eyes shoot up to me, clearly wondering if I’m an idiot. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Oh, no reason.” I shrug. “Looks good on you though—I mean, from what I can see.”
Her eyes shoot down past her belt, obviously remembering what color she chose for underwear this morning.
“SHIT.” She panics and quickly pulls the zipper.
A deep chuckle escapes my chest as I walk away and into the kitchen to get us both some dinner.
It wasn’t a lie—they look good on her. I’d like to see the rest of them.
I pull my phone from my pocket and read the text that just came through.
It’s from Brian, they’ll be here with Blaze in about thirty minutes.
I’ll need to go out and help get her settled.
Opening the fridge I see some left overs my girls made the night before I left.
I’ll send a message to Lythie, letting her know I’ll come pick the hooligans up tomorrow.
Studying the shelves for a few seconds, I determine the leftovers of mashed potatoes and gravy will do just fine.
I’ll steam some broccoli in the microwave and butter a piece of bread to go with it. No protein, but it is what it is.
I place the last piece of bread on Dixie's plate and hope she’s not picky. She doesn’t seem like the type, but you never know. I place four pills in a medicine cup I keep in my silverware drawer for the girls, and make my way back to the living room where she’s still sitting in the chair.
“How does this look?” I hold the food out in front of me and offer it to her with a bottle of water and her pills.
“Looks delicious, Thanks—boss.” … She remembered.
Hiding my smirk is almost impossible. “You’re welcome.
I didn’t have to remind you this time.” She makes a face.
I let my smirk loose and retrieve my dinner from the kitchen then move to sit on the long sofa couch to the right of the chair she’s lounging in.
I grab the remote from the coffee table and hit the power button with my thumb. “What do you usually watch?”
She pauses before admitting, “I don’t.”
Okay, so she doesn’t watch television. That’s fine, I purchased most of the John Wayne classics on my Prime. I hit play on the first one that comes up. “This one’s always been my favorite. Maureen O’Hara plays in it.”
She glances at the picture on the screen. “Oh, so you like redheads?”
Fuck… This woman. “No, I just thought I’d mention it in case you needed a reason to like it. Maureen is an icon… You’ve never heard of her?”
“Nope. Never seen her before in my life. I told you—I don’t watch anything. I always preferred riding my horse and playing in the dirt, still do.” The moment she says she still enjoys playing in the dirt, she cracks a smile. She’s going to get along great with my girls.
“You know John Wayne though?” I push further.
She nods her head up and down hesitantly. “Heard of him.”
For, the love of all that’s holy. “Well, let me be the first to introduce you to The Duke.” I cock my chin to watch her take a bite off her plate.
She must sense I’m staring because she stops chewing and slowly turns her neck to look at me.
Her eyebrows lift at the same time and she stuffs the food she’s chewing into both cheeks like a chipmunk before talking with her mouth full, “You gonna stare at me or turn on the show? You’ve convinced me, I’m ready! ”
My jaw tightens, and I run my tongue over my bottom lip. If my guys talked to me the way she does, they’d be tossed and told to pack their bags. When she does it though, my dick twitches.
Fifteen minutes in, I hear a truck pull up onto the gravel out front and I know who it is, so I pause the movie.
“Awe! I was just getting into that…” She whines.
“I’ve gotta go help put your horse in the barn. I can go while you keep watching.”
“No!” She says adamantly. So without another word I lift her out of her seat, and take her outside with me.
Brian is there with a few other men from Search and Rescue.
I sit Dixie on a bale of hay to watch. It takes all of us to move the horse and get her into her stall.
But once she’s in, she lowers herself to the hay and blows out a huff through flared nostrils.
“She’s tired. Pretty bruised up, a few cuts, but no broken bones in her limbs. We were all shocked. They examined her and she’ll need to follow-up with a vet, but other than that, she just needs rest and recovery.” Brian says, giving us a few more details, then waving off the help.
I pat his shoulder. “Thanks for everything you did today.”
“No problem, sir.” Brian offers with a smile.
Then he looks at Dixie on her hay bale. “You know it wasn’t your fault, don’t you, Dixie?
” He moves to squat down in front of her.
I want to lunge forward and shove his ass out of the way like a little kid.
That’s my spot. Does he like her? If he does, too bad. Against the rules. My rules.
I rub my hand over my beard trying to cool down.
Dixie’s saying something, but it’s hushed and quiet.
Then I notice he’s holding her hat. I watch as he hands it to her, and she softly caresses it with her fingers.
She places it on her head and smiles. He must’ve found it at the bottom or somewhere in-between on that cliff.
I noticed she wasn’t wearing it after we pulled her up.
But the afternoon was such a whirlwind, she hadn’t even mentioned it.
I wonder if she forgot about it too until just now.
“Alright, you can go back to the bunkhouse and sleep for the night.” Get the hell away from her, is what I’m actually saying.
I’m always protective of women, hell, people.
I’d jump in front of a semi-truck to save a stranger.
But the feelings of possession… that’s new.
Well, it’s not new. I’m that way with the women closest to me, the ones I care about.
Holy shit, do I care about Dixie Wilder like that?
I clear my throat and continue.“I know you were supposed to be up there with everyone since I was planning to come back and take care of everything here… But I’m going to need you to stay. The few boys who didn’t go up, need management, and my responsibilities have shifted.”
“You got it, boss. I’ll give Toby a call on the satellite phone.
” He stands from his crouched position and tips his hat to Dixie.
“I swiped your personal things from the truck before we left. I dropped them on the porch before ya’ll came out.
” Then he jogs off toward his bed. As soon as he’s gone, I’m at her side.
“Can you put me in there with her?” She asks gently. I do as she asks and sit her down in the hay, next to her best friend, she wraps her arms around the animal’s neck and sings. The thick accent I’ve gotten used to, softens a bit and I’m completely captivated.
You and me, through mud or dust. My steady friend, my heart’s only trust. Yours is the beat that keeps mine alive, together we ride—forever we ride.
Her song washes over me as much as it does Blaze.
I stare in awe as her lips brush the bridge of her horse's nose, a tear falling with her kiss. “I love you.” She murmurs as she caresses the animal’s neck.
Then she lifts her gaze to me and says, “I’m ready to go inside.
” I oblige her as I bend another time to help her up.
She wraps an arm around my neck and applies pressure as I lift her off the ground and out of the hay.
I close the door to the horse stall and carry us both back toward the house.
“What do you sleep in, blondie?” I ask as I walk up the porch steps, then inside.
“I don’t need anything, I can sleep in the recliner in my clothes. I didn’t pack any pajamas for the drive, so there aren't any in my bag.”
“Nope. Not a chance. I planned to put you in my bed and there’s no way you’re going to be comfortable in this cattle drive getup. You probably want a shower first too.”
“I don’t need a shower, or pajamas. I’m too damn tired. You got an old T-shirt and shorts I can borrow?”
“Mmhm.” I rumble as I stride to where she’s going to sleep.
I’ll just pretend the thought of her wearing my clothes to bed does absolutely nothing to me.
Sitting her on the edge of the bed, I go to my closet and retrieve one of my oversized Army T-shirts.
They used to give us a new one every year and I just never opened them all.
Then I move to my dresser and pull the top drawer that holds my boxer briefs and basketball shorts.
After my wife died, I got a new mattress. Every time I slid beneath the covers, or looked at it made up from the doorway—I relived it all over again. So I got a new one. My first step in letting go to pursue healing. I hold on to her other places, but not in my bed.
I take a few steps forward to where she sits, lay my clothes next to her, then bend down on one knee.
“Let’s take this boot off.” She lifts her foot with a slight wince and I unfasten the velcro.
One by one I loosen each strap before opening the fabric padding and gently removing the device from the lower half of her leg.
As I do that, she takes the hat from her head and places it to the side.
“Thank you.” She breathes. I see her staring at the shirt I placed next to her. “You were in the military?” She asks with a small lift in her tone. “I’m not surprised.” One side of her mouth tilts up as she breathes a small laugh. “It suits you… Army ranger turned rancher?”
I lean an elbow on one knee as my hand smoothes down my beard and chin when I say, “Green Beret.”
“Oh wow. One of the big dogs.” She lifts her eyebrows.
“Actually, that doesn’t surprise me either.
” She pauses, contemplating. “Before I met you the other day, I didn’t know who was in charge here.
But the second I heard your voice, I knew.
” She huffs a laugh and shakes her head.
“Sorry I’ve been such a nuisance since I got here. I don’t know what's wrong with me.”
“It could’ve been any of us. No apologies.” I look her up and down, then pause before I say anything else. She’s going to need help with all these clothes.“I’m sure you can switch your top by yourself, but I can help with your lower half if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“I trust you.” She says confidently. Then holds out her hand for me to help her stand. Once she’s up, her fingers move to unfasten her belt. I hold her waist to help her balance.
“Can I remove your weapon and put it on the nightstand?” I ask with respect. I know enough about this woman to know, she needs that.
“Yes, please.” I lift one hand from her body and remove the gun from her hip, stretching my arm to lay it down gently on the mahogany wood.
Once her belt is off and the button of her jeans too, she uses one hand to wiggle the denim down her hips.
When they’ve dropped to her thighs, I help her sit back down on the bed, then I drop to the floor again on one knee.
She still has her cowboy boot on her left foot, so I reach behind the heel and pull it off.
Now that both feet are dangling free, I grip the hem of her right pant leg first. I know it might be awkward pulling it off because her ankle is so swollen, but I tug slowly as she pulls it back.
I don’t need to see her face to know the pain has it scrunched into a ball.
Once her leg is through and out the top, she wiggles her toes on the opposite foot.
My lips tug into a slow grin. “You still need my help?”
She nods and again; I oblige. Sitting in nothing but her top and those sweet pink panties, she buttons down her shirt.
I immediately stand and turn around. I can look at a body without sexualizing it, but I’m not bulletproof.
Today has proven that apparently I have feelings for her.
She’s fuckin’ gorgeous with ten layers on.
If my eyes witness her with barely any… I know my dick will have thoughts about it, and I need to keep my composure.
What feels like more than a minute passes and my throat clears, “You good?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Yes, I’m done. Thank you.”
“Need help with the shorts?” I’m still facing the wall.
“I think I got it, they’re big and loose. Just give me a minute.”
Jaw clenched, I stand and wait. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi…
Feels like I’m six years old on the playground again waiting for Dave to fuckin’ pick a hiding spot.
But I know I’m not. I’m a forty-five-year-old widower waiting for the woman behind me to finish putting on my pajamas.
“Okay, boss. Come tuck me in. I’m ready.”
I turn around, and damn—she could be my next meal, completely drowning in my clothes. A quiet growl rumbles deep inside my chest and her eyes shoot up to mine. I instantly catch myself and clear my throat to hide the fact I almost sunk my teeth into her.
“You think I look funny?” One eyebrow raises and her arms stubbornly fold over her chest.
I wonder if her bra is pink too? Damnit, don’t be a fuckin’ schmuck, Chris.
“No.” I inch toward the bed. “I think you look kinda cute.”
A dramatic eye roll proceeds her next words. “Just help me to the headboard, and fix the damn blankets.”
I grab her hat and place it on the nightstand, then do as she asks. I place a pillow under her right ankle, but wonder if she needs more than that?
“Do you need a pillow fort to keep you from rolling around or do you sleep pretty still?” It’s a legitimate question. My girls sleep like they’re fighting in world war three.
“I can hold still. I’m never really asleep. I’ve always got one eye open.”
Of course she does. Dixie Wilder takes situational awareness to an entirely new level. “Well, if you need help going to the bathroom or anything else just call for me. I’ll be on the couch.” What she doesn’t know is that it’s taking the control of a Tibetan monk to walk out that door.