Chapter Eleven Savannah
Chapter Eleven
Savannah
Six years of running from Blaze Hartman, and I’m still letting him live rent-free in my head every time I touch a damn wrench.
A sudden wind kicks up dust clouds in the distance. I swipe my arm across my forehead, mopping up the sweat with my shirtsleeve before I try to tighten one of the rusty screws. Again.
This gate latch already defeated me three times, and it’s not even nine o’clock. Every time I think I have the wooden door aligned with the hinges, the damn thing slips out of my hands, and I land ass first in the dirt.
My palms are raw from gripping the metal pieces so tight.
But what else am I supposed to do? Trying to wrangle a two-hundred-pound contraption on my own isn’t ideal, but I can’t always wait around for Mikey and Randy to show up.
Nash hasn’t made contact in days, so I assume he’s just boozing off his anger about the ranch. And Blaze . . .
Dammit. I am not thinking about him again.
I blow on my hands to get some relief from the cuts and scrapes. I avoided gloves because I couldn’t get a proper grip on the screws with them. I shield my eyes and stare up at the hawks circling in the bright-blue sky, a deep sigh quaking my shoulders.
This is so not my calling in life. I don’t even own proper ranching gear, and everything takes me ten times as long as it should, even with guidance from the ranch hands.
Thankfully, Caroline and human resources approved a three-month sabbatical, so I can at least use my salary to help fund my work here for half the time I need to make this place profitable.
We are making some money from our dairy operations, but it’s just not enough.
And even though we have nursing cows on the ranch to raise a lot of the baby calves and increase dairy production, we still don’t have enough to generate the kind of income we need to stay in the black.
I just need to make sure I keep getting a steady paycheck. And since I’ve created a rough business plan, including ideas I have for new streams, I feel a little more confident about Red Rock’s future.
I bend down for one final attempt. The cattle are pressed against the side of the gate, so if the hinges give and the fence buckles, I’ll be screwed and likely trampled.
Catching Miss Bea’s eye, I smile. “Would you let them all mow me down, girl? Or would you save me?”
“You talking to yourself, now?”
A gasp catches in my throat. I flip around, my heart about to tear through my chest at the sight of Blaze and his infuriatingly sexy, know-it-all smirk. I hate that it still makes me tingle.
Everywhere.
“I wasn’t talking to myself,” I say. “I was talking to Miss Bea.”
“You really need to get out a bit. Talk to some humans.” He slowly edges past me so that his chest rubs against mine in the process. He reaches for the wrench, his thick fingers brushing the top of my hand as his whiskey eyes sweep over me, my insides melting at his heated golden gaze.
I stick my hands on my hips as he bends down in front of the latch. Don’t stare at his ass. Do. Not. Do. It. “If memory serves, I tried to do that the other day until you showed up, without an invitation, I might add.”
He scoffs, his hands working quickly to secure screws. “You might. But you clearly need me, darlin’. This gate’s been giving you trouble, ain’t it?” My body hums with the vibration of his voice crashing against my ears like waves lapping at a shoreline.
The muscles in his forearms tense and tighten as he works the screws and bolts into the wood. My mouth waters, unwelcome memories flooding my mind. All that hard, cut, tattooed muscle covering my writhing body as his demanding lips scorched a trail over my skin.
Thirty seconds later, he rises to his feet and hands me the wrench. “Fixed.”
My jaw drops. “Well . . . great, but it’s not like I asked for your help.”
He shrugs and steps toward me. “You always were a stubborn one, Little Miss Type A.”
A whiff of his cologne, some deliciously and horrifyingly addictive scent that could accurately be called Dark, Sexy, and Impossible, makes my knees wobble.
“This is why ranches fail, Savvie. Cattle need food and water more than you need pride.”
Blaze stops when he’s right in front of me.
I lift an eyebrow, not giving him the satisfaction of taking a step backward and letting him know that my insides have erupted into an inferno at his proximity.
You are a strong and independent woman. You don’t need a man, especially him. You are capable, empowered, and fierce.
“I bet if I called the new town vet, he’d have come over to help.” I flash a toothy grin.
Blaze dips his head low, the brim of his sweat-stained Stetson casting a shadow that makes his gaze even darker. “Guys like him circle wounded animals. He’s preying on your desperation, Savvie.”
“Because you know him so well, right?” I snap. “You think you can run off every decent man who tries to help me?”
“The only thing he wants to help you do is get naked.” His jaw tightens.
“That’s not your concern anymore, is it?” I lift an eyebrow. “But then again, it never really was.”
“I’m here because you don’t see what’s coming. And you’re too damn stubborn to realize you can’t do everything on your own, as much as you may want to.”
I let out a huff and push past him toward the feed room, my pulse exploding against my throat because he’s right. I’m in over my head. But fuck him if he thinks I’ll admit it. “I have help. The ranch hands—”
“Are unreliable. They’re not tied to Red Rock, and they’re not here all the time.
” He backs against the fence, hooking one scuffed boot onto the rung.
His worn Wranglers hang low around his waist. A breeze rustles Blaze’s flannel shirt, and it falls open.
I have to bite down on the inside of my mouth when my eyes latch onto the mess of black ink covering his pecs.
“Six months, Savvie. But don’t come crying to me when you lose this place because you were too damn proud to take my help.”
Anger beats hard in my blood. I open my mouth to lance him with a response when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I grab it, a slow smile lifting my lips when I see the caller ID on my screen.
Whiskey Creek Veterinary.
I answer the call and then hit the Speaker button. “This is Savannah.” My eyes float upward until they meet Blaze’s bone-melting stare.
“Hey, Savannah. It’s Tyler Burgess. How’s it going?”
I turn my back on Blaze and pace in front of the feed room, my body completely aware of the possessive alpha energy simmering a few feet away. “Great, thanks. I’m sorry our visit got cut off early the other day.”
I bite back a smile because I know that’s going to have his dick in a knot. Another man . . . an educated, successful, good-looking man . . . showing interest in me. I can almost choke on his ire, it’s so thick in the air.
“I’d love to get together again, and I wanted to see if you were up for a drink tonight.”
I slant Blaze a look over my shoulder. “That sounds great. Did you have a place in mind?”
“How about the Boot Barn? We can start there, maybe shoot some pool, and then grab a late dinner?”
I want to shout with glee right now, which I know is so sad and juvenile. But if Blaze thinks he can just waltz right back into my life just to shatter it again, he’s damn crazy.
“Sounds great. I’ll meet you there. Around seven?”
“Seven it is. See you later, Savannah.”
I click to end the call, a self-satisfied smile on my face as I turn to see Blaze’s face twist into a grimace.
“The Boot Barn’s no place for you. And any halfway-decent guy knows pool and beers at a honky-tonk ain’t gonna classify as a real date.” He pauses. “But it works right nice if he’s just fixing to get you in bed.”
“I’m not that kind of girl, or don’t you remember?
And anyway, it’s a good thing I don’t give a damn about your opinion anymore.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.
” I pull open the door to the feed room and start to walk inside when he grabs my arm.
Electricity shoots up my arm, my heart stuttering like it’s been short-circuited.
All of a sudden, I’m that starry-eyed eighteen-year-old girl again.
But I shove those past feelings deep into the recesses of my heart and mind.
“Why do you keep showing up here, Blaze? I really don’t know what the hell you want from me after all this time.” I grit my teeth, hand still on the door handle. “Why don’t you just leave?”
“Because if something happened to you . . .” His gruff voice trails off, and he stares into the distant mountains for a second before continuing. “. . . because you’re already in deeper shit than you know with this place, and I’m the only one who gives a damn about helping you out.”
I twist toward him, pulling free of his grip.
“First of all, you’re clearly not the only one, since that phone call proves otherwise.
And second of all, stop being so dramatic.
I’m not some damsel. Yeah, I have a lot to learn, but I’ll get there.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve grown up a lot since you last saw me.
I’m not the pathetic girl who was waiting for a white knight to sweep her off her feet.
I’m my own white knight. I can take care of myself just fine. Way better than you ever did.”
He recoils at that, shock settling into his chiseled features. But in a hot second, it’s replaced by sheer anger. Without another word, he stalks toward his truck, the heels of his boots digging into the dirt.
I swallow hard past the lump lodged in my throat. After all this time, he still can’t communicate. At freaking all. How was I so stupid to think there could have ever been a future for us?
The Blaze I fell in love with so many years ago wasn’t like this hardened, jagged man. His edges started to fray after his mom died. But even then, he was still softer. Less jaded. And he actually smiled.
But now? It’s like I barely recognize him. Like the memories I have of him were just fabricated by my broken heart.
Except no matter how I try to bury the past, I can’t deny the effect he still has on my body, how all it takes is a look or a touch to be sucked right back into the days when I vied for his affection like a lovesick puppy.
With my body still shuddering from the aftershocks of his rough touch, I pull on work gloves with shaking hands and carry the can of feed over to the trough, his words reverberating between my temples. I drop the can on the ground in front of my feet.
The rumble of Blaze’s truck idles for a few long minutes before he finally speeds away, the tires kicking up a cloud of gravel in his wake.
He wants me to think I need him. But the only thing I need is to prove to him and everyone that I can do this on my own.
I stare at the back of his truck as it gets smaller and smaller, finally disappearing in the prairie grasses.
But I know he’ll be watching.
Protecting me or hunting me? I’m starting to think there’s no difference.