Chapter 12
Even without the pink cowboy boots, I recognized the legs sticking out from under the SUV as James’s. For one, the SUV was hers. For another, those legs had managed to imprint so brightly on my brain that I could trace every curve of muscle and sinew with my eyes closed.
I parked the four-wheeler behind her SUV and approached, noting the lone decal in the rear window. I hope something good happens to you today, spelled out in cheerful bubbly letters. I shook my head. Of course she did.
“I am calm.” Her voice floated out from under the car, enunciating every syllable with measured precision. But one leg lifted and then lowered with force, her sneakered heel bouncing against the dirt. A foot stomp if I ever saw one.
I grinned.
“I don’t…” She heaved a sigh. Her hips danced as she wiggled her torso out from under the car. I leaned my hip against the front bumper and waited. “I don’t—”
Her eyes met mine. Shiny and wet. Like she was on the verge of tears.
And…no. I couldn’t handle that.
Absolutely fucking not.
With a low growl, I swiped the phone from her hand, ignoring her gasp of surprise. I kept my gaze narrowed on her face as I snapped, “This is Adam Hale. James can’t talk right now. She needs both hands for the oil change she’s working on.”
There was a pause. And then a smooth voice said, “Well, Adam Hale, this is Carl Campos of Blue Skies Farm.”
Her dad. Oh, shit.
James didn’t look like she wanted to cry anymore. She had that look of someone watching a person fall flat on their ass. Like she wanted to laugh but was waiting to make sure there weren’t any broken bones first.
I stared at her. She stared back, eyebrows winged up as if to say, now what? Clearly, she wasn’t going to save me. I should never have grabbed the phone from her. I should’ve minded my own business and walked away. But seeing that almost-smile shimmering in her eyes where tears had been only a second ago? I didn’t regret it.
I cleared my throat. “What can I do for you, sir?”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you asked. We have an important event coming up. I was just telling James that Lodestar did just fine without her before she joined your team and surely you can spare her for a week.”
I ground my teeth so hard I could feel the tension in my jaw. He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t honestly be telling her that she was unimportant while in the same breath asking her for a favor.
But the way James’s gaze faltered told me that was exactly what he was doing.
And again, absolutely fucking not. She might be short, but no way was I going to let this turnip of a man make her feel small. I didn’t care who he was.
It took me a good second or two to wrangle my rage enough to unclench my jaw and speak. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong on both counts. We weren’t doing fine without her and no, we can’t spare her a week. James isn’t available to help with your event. Good luck figuring out how to do fine without her. I think you’ll need it. She’ll call you back when she has a minute.”
“Probably not,” James muttered as I hung up the phone and handed it back to her. She stared at it a moment and then pushed to her feet, tucking the phone into the pocket of her denim cutoffs. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I can’t believe he’s asking you to come back. You’ve only been here two weeks.”
“It’s a show Blue Skies hosts every year. I usually take care of all the details.” She toed the dirt with her sneaker. “Maybe I could figure something out.”
I crossed my arms. “No, you won’t. I meant what I said, James. You have a job to do here, and we need you to do it.”
Her eyes searched my face. “Okay,” she said softly. And then grinned.
Something ached inside my chest. I’d have that conversation with her dad every damn day if it meant her looking at me like that.
The warmth of her smile soaked into me, making my voice deepen when I said, “Need any help with that oil change, buttercup?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.” She scooped the bottle of synthetic oil by her feet and leaned over the engine, giving me an excellent view that made me bite my fist. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I—” It was hard to remember anything with that perky ass issuing an invitation I knew damn well not to accept. I looked around, reminding myself of the task at hand. “I’ve got a list of things that need to be fixed. Figured I’d swing by and see if you had anything to add for your cabin now that you’ve lived in it for a couple weeks.”
“You’re working?”
“Yeah, buttercup.” I tilted the brim of my hat with my thumb. “This isn’t a social call.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“I’m aware.”
“You worked yesterday, too. I saw you training with the cows.” There was a gentle accusation in her voice.
I grunted. She’d get to her point eventually. Sooner rather than later, I hoped.
She straightened and wiped her hands on the rag dangling from her back pocket. “Your dad said Lodestar Ranch takes weekends seriously.”
I guffawed. “He would say that.”
She cocked her head. “He doesn’t mean it?”
“Oh, he means it. But unfortunately, some of us have to be grown-ups. Horses don’t care if it’s the weekend. They want their grain fed to them and their shit shoveled every day of the week. Can’t say that I blame them for that, either. The ranch hands work five days a week. That’s their contract. But I’m the owner’s son. I don’t get that same leeway.”
Her brows furrowed. “Your dad makes you work seven days a week?”
“He doesn’t make me. It’s how things shake out, that’s all. If I didn’t do it, it wouldn’t get done.”
“Hm.”
Amazing how much meaning she managed to pack into that one little syllable. “What?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe some things don’t need to get done. I mean, you don’t have to be here now. Right? Don’t get me wrong, it’s so nice of you to make sure I have what I need, and I’m grateful, truly. But you could just assume everything is fine until I tell you it’s not. That would take at least one task off your plate. I don’t want to be the reason you’re working on a Sunday.”
“It’s no trouble,” I said. The truth was it was the highlight of my day.
“Hm,” she said again.
I leaned against the SUV, settling in for the conversation. Enjoying myself, though I wasn’t going to tell her that. “What?” I prodded.
“Each little thing on its own might be no trouble, but when there’s dozens of them, it becomes trouble real quick. When I saw you working Crackerjack yesterday, I thought to myself, now there’s a man who loves his job. It was such a joy to watch.”
A pretty wash of pink bloomed on her cheeks. Her eyes darted from mine and her tongue peeked out to wet her lower lip. My focus zeroed in, watching the movement with avid interest. Why was she blushing?
“I do love my job,” I answered. Then took a beat to consider because she wasn’t wrong about it all adding up to something heavy. “Mostly.”
She smiled. “Right. Mostly. And I would hate to see that love slowly drained from you at the weight of all these self-appointed troubles. Even though you say they’re no trouble, everyone deserves a break.”
“I didn’t say they’re no trouble. I said you’re no trouble. Some of these chores…well, it’s not how I would necessarily choose to spend a Sunday morning.”
The flush on her cheeks deepened. Damn, I liked it more than I should, knowing it was my words that had caused it. She was my employee. I had no business making her blush.
“But it is your choice. I—” She broke off with a shake of her head. “Sorry. I’m overstepping. It’s none of my business.”
“Let’s hear it.” I waved a hand at her to continue. James had been here all of one week. She thought she had the answers? I was more than willing to hear her out…and then tell her how wrong she was.
She peered at me sheepishly from beneath her dark fringe of eyelashes. “You don’t think I’m a nosy asshole?”“Oh, that’s definitely what I think,” I assured her.
She laughed and swatted my arm. Like we were friends or something. I liked it.
“I was thinking, your dad…” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I know he hasn’t done much of the day-to-day barn chores and responsibilities since your mom passed—”“He hasn’t done any,” I interjected. Not to throw him under the bus, but because it was true. “Except for hiring you. And that was only because I was terrible at convincing anyone I was a person they wanted to work for.”
She snickered. “Really? How is that possible when you’re so smiley and cheerful all the time?”
I gave her a bland look even though it was hard not to smile at her teasing. She smirked in response.
“But as for your dad,” she continued, “maybe he’s ready for that to change. I saw him hanging around the barn the other day, looking for something to do. Have you talked to him about getting back to work?”
“No, I—” It hadn’t occurred to me that Dad might be ready to come back. He’d sobered up months ago, and since then he’d spent his time taking care of Ben and running the house. “I don’t want to pressure him. When he’s ready, he’ll tell me.”
“Sure,” she said doubtfully. I raised my eyebrows in question, and she shrugged. “Maybe he’s embarrassed. Maybe he doesn’t want to step on your toes. Maybe he’s worried you don’t trust him anymore. There’s lots of reasons men don’t talk.”
I frowned at my boots and rubbed my chest. Dad had been at the barn more than usual this past month. I hadn’t thought much about it, but maybe I should have. Shit.
I thought about it now. I thought about it after I left James to what remained of her Sunday, and I kept right on thinking about it as I joined Ben and Dad for dinner.
“I was thinking I might take Ben fishing tomorrow morning,” I said casually as we tucked into spaghetti. “Think you could take the morning chores?”
There was a quiet pause, during which I cursed James and her interference. Why was I taking advice from someone who had only been here two weeks, anyway? Dad wasn’t—
“I could do that.”
At his soft words, I looked up from my plate. He grinned.
“I thought you’d never ask.”