Chapter Three #3
“Thanks.” But she saw his point. She didn’t know much about a cow’s sense of smell, but it was probably keen, and she probably did have Raisin’s scent on her jacket, since her dog slept on it whenever possible.
“I mean that in a good way,” he said.
“Right.” Cows and horses were obviously different in this regard. Horses were protective of their babies and yes, there were rogues, but in general there were no attacks involved. At least not premeditated ones.
“You won’t have a lot of cow time unless we need emergency help.”
She cleared her throat. “How long does it take to not be a stranger to a cow?”
He stopped at the gate, studying her with an expression that she couldn’t quite read, but which, for some reason, put her senses on high alert.
His eyelids dropped a little as he regarded her, giving him a lazy, sexy look that he was probably unaware of.
“A couple days, a week maybe, and you should be good. For the most part.”
Suddenly, she wasn’t thinking of cows.
What the actual hell?
But it had been going on all day. Despite being nervous about measuring up, proving herself worthy of the mercy job, she’d kept noticing little things about the man that she wanted to be oblivious to.
Like the way he smelled. And the easy way he smiled when he wasn’t being all tense and distant as he wondered if she was going to be able to do what he’d hired her to do—or so she assumed.
Little things she hadn’t allowed herself to notice when he’d been with Brooke.
The Matthews brothers had been notorious heartbreakers back in the day, and with good reason.
They were no longer back in the day. They were in the very real present and Maclyn wanted to keep this job.
And even if she didn’t, the last thing she’d do would be to put herself into a situation where she had to lower her defenses.
History had taught her more than once that that was the road to disaster. She wasn’t about to set foot on that road.
*
The workday ended better than it had started.
The round bale feeding in the steer pasture went well, and Mac had fed the bulls square bales in their feeder after lunch without threatening the windbreak.
Then she’d tackled one of the more finicky watering units, expertly tearing into it and adjusting the flow to stop the puddle surrounding the unit from becoming a mucky lake.
“Feel better about hiring me?” she asked as they walked back to the side-by-side.
Thankfully, the answer was yes. If things continued this way he wouldn’t have to defend his hire to Wade. He was especially glad about the waterer. The damned things were always going down or leaking.
“I’ll wait until I see your fencing abilities before passing judgment.”
The immediate shift in her expression gave him a jab of conscience. She wasn’t in a position to be teased. “Yes, I’m feeling better.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I believe you.” A statement he may not have made earlier that morning.
The woman had a work ethic that surprised him considering his previous experience with her.
He hadn’t disliked Mac back in the day—not until the truck incident, anyway—but he’d found her unapproachable in a rich girl sort of way.
Despite her being Brooke’s friend and travel partner, they’d had little more than a nodding acquaintanceship, and he’d sensed what he’d thought was an air of superiority.
Or he might have just been sensitive to such things.
Looking back, he suspected that Brooke liked he and Mac to keep their distance from one another, may have even subtly encouraged it.
Brooke had her charms; she was kind and funny, approachable in a way Mac was not, but she didn’t like to share her things, and he’d been one of her things.
At the time, it’d been flattering. Of all the cowboys out there, she’d chosen him. Every now and again, he’d wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.
The answer had come to him after the breakup.
Brooke had wanted to tame the wild cowboy.
Make him her own. Mold him and then dump him when she’d tired of the challenge.
Now he knew that she’d also cheated on him.
That was the part he didn’t get. Why cheat?
Why make him a fool? That didn’t seem Brooke-like, but had he really known her?
“Can I meet your horses?”
Mac’s sudden question startled Trev. He almost said tomorrow, but after catching her wistful gaze as she studied the animals in the west pasture, he changed his mind.
“Sure. We’ll stop on our way back to the ranch.” Trev gestured for her to drive and directed her to the gate at the far side, the one that didn’t drag ground because it needed its brace replaced. Once they entered the field, the horses came running.
“Well trained,” Maclyn said, getting out of the vehicle.
“They expect to be fed.”
“I figured.” Maclyn stood waiting for the horses to give her the once-over before approaching. Wade’s old Appaloosa approached first, stretching out his speckled muzzle to see if she had treats, then moving in for some rubs.
“That’s Spot,” Trev said as she stroked the gelding’s neck.
“Well named.”
Spot laid his ears back at the horses trying to squeeze in to get their share of loving. Most backed off a step or two, but Roger, Trev’s sturdy roping horse, was not deterred.
“I remember you, rude guy.” Maclyn laughed as the horse nudged her arm. “He’s looking good.”
“He should. He’s done nothing but eat since last September and that will continue into the foreseeable future.”
Mac shot him a quick look. “You’re serious about retiring from roping?”
Maybe not, if Dylan was serious about unretiring. He wasn’t going to get into that.
“I have a lot going on. Not much time for extracurriculars.”
“It’s good to have a way to blow off steam.”
“You retired from barrel racing,” he pointed out. “How do you blow off steam?”
She gave a careless shrug. “I go toe-to-toe with my employer over a horse, then act all surprised when it gets me fired.”
Trev managed to keep a neutral expression as he said, “Perhaps you need another way to vent.”
“You think?”
“Are you totally tied to the horse industry? Or do you have other job skills?”
“Do rich girls need those?” she asked with mock innocence, causing warmth to creep up the back of Trev’s neck.
He’d flippantly said something along those lines when he and Brooke had been discussing the importance of fallback plans in case her equine career didn’t pan out, and Mac’s name had come up as not having one.
“Brooke ratted me out?” Trev asked.
“She did,” Mac said as she worked out a small witch’s twist in Roger’s mane.
Looked like he’d been right about Brooke easing a wedge between her guy and her travel partner.
“Why aren’t you going to your parents for help?”
Maclyn’s fingers stilled momentarily, then she went back to work on Roger’s mane. “My dad died when I was nineteen, and my mom isn’t in a position to help.”
Okay.
She finished untying the knot in Roger’s mane, then reached out to pat the roan mare who’d gone down with Wade the previous fall. She zeroed in on the mare’s now healed leg, pointed at it with her chin. “How long ago was she hurt?”
Trev recounted the story and Maclyn nodded as she straightened. “Healed well.”
“She did.” Trev hooked a thumb on the edge of his jacket pocket. “I’m kind of wondering why Brooke didn’t set me straight about your circumstances when I called you rich.”
“Oh, the family was rich-ish then. Or thought we were.” Trev frowned and Mac continued. “Frank, the CFO and my father’s supposed best friend, ran the business into the ground after Dad passed away.”
“How?”
“Embezzlement. He was getting ready to make an escape when one of the old-time associates told Mom that things were not right. Mom ordered an audit and, well, Frank went to jail.”
“When did this happen?”