Chapter Eight #2
“I’m the reason irresponsible teenagers shouldn’t have sex. My teenaged parents never grew up and remain irresponsible to this day,” she said lightly, with a faint hint of exasperation that suggested she’d never fully understand what made them tick but had learned to accept it.
A few more questions and he had a clear picture of her family dynamics. No wonder she came across as so bossy. And it was no wonder she’d found herself saddled with Taryn. Their parents hadn’t made any attempt to control her.
Taryn, however, wasn’t about to be controlled. Not by an older half sister, that was for sure. Shauna had been handed all the responsibility, but she held no authority—a position she well understood, since it had been her family role her entire life.
It explained the wild side she’d kept so carefully hidden but had blown through the gates earlier that day. Dealing with Taryn had pushed her over the edge. Anyone else would be drinking.
“What about you?” Shauna asked. “Other than your ex-wife, do you have any family?”
Did he? He wasn’t sure. “Parents and two older sisters. I grew up on a small ranch an hour outside of Abilene, Texas. I think my parents still own it.”
She jumped on that. “What do you mean, you think?”
He hadn’t meant to add that last part. Or maybe he had. Maybe he was looking for a second opinion as to whether he should try and reconnect or leave matters alone. “I haven’t had any contact with them in years.”
“Your ex-wife really did cut them out of your life.” She stated it as fact, with a small hint of judgment thrown in that he rightly deserved.
“I could blame her for it,” he said. “The truth is, it was easier to let them go than it was to fight with her every time they wanted to visit. It’s nobody’s fault but my own.”
“You’re no longer married. Why don’t you call them?”
He regretted starting this whole conversation. “Maybe they don’t want to hear from me.”
“Why wouldn’t they want to hear from you? What’s wrong with them? Weren’t they supportive enough of your rodeo career?”
There she went, jabbing at him again.
“There’s nothing wrong with my parents,” Nix said, defensive. “They couldn’t have been more supportive. My mom drove me to rodeos until I was old enough to drive on my own. Even then, most weekends she’d tagged along. My dad bought me my first truck.”
Shauna made a small clicking sound of reproof with her tongue. “Then the problem is all in your head. There’s nothing more important than family. My mother’s crazy, and I talk to her once a week. You should call yours.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s absolutely that simple,” she said.
“I’ll think about it.” That was the best response he could think of to shut down a conversation he didn’t feel like pursuing.
They bounced along the trail for another few minutes. He caught her frown out of the corner of his eye. Now what?
“Where are we?” she asked, peering through the windshield. “I’m not going to end up on some reality crime show, am I? One where I go missing and my body’s never found?”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that sooner,” he said. “You sure you want me to answer?”
“Never mind. You’re right. It’s too late to worry about it. Don’t spoil the ending for me. Let it come as a surprise.”
Even though they were joking around, he had to admit that the cabin wasn’t looking like such a good idea anymore.
One of the truck’s rear tires sank into a mudhole.
He shifted into four-wheel drive and spun his way out, and he considered turning around, but he had his reputation to think of.
He was no underperformer. Out of practice, perhaps.
They reached the edge of the badlands. The grass became sparser. Jagged ridges framed the star-speckled night sky.
Normally, Nix loved the badlands. Chunks of sandstone carved into pillars, with natural bridges spanning between bluffs, and boggy springs that turned ravines into rivers after a storm—this was wild country.
He should have brought Shauna here during daylight so she could see how pretty it was, but his head hadn’t been the part of him that was doing the thinking.
He spun the steering wheel and deftly avoided a chunk of exposed wood that had once been the trunk of a tree a thousand or so years ago. The cabin wasn’t far now.
And then he saw it, picked up in the headlights’ wide beam—a smooth, round bump on the side of the road where no smooth, round bump had any business to be.
He stomped the brakes and Shauna shot forward, one of her hands slapping the dash while she caught the convenient-as-hell grab bar with the other.
“Stay here,” he said.
He left the engine running, with the headlights on high, and got out to investigate.
A late calf, several months old, but still in need of a mama who was nowhere in sight.
It was curled into a bundle until he got close.
It shot to its feet and took off a few yards, although it didn’t go far.
It appeared weak, so it had been alone for a few days.
Grass had kept it alive, but it still needed its mother.
Hands on his hips, he contemplated the situation. There was no getting around it. His night, which hadn’t been going especially well to begin with, had just come to an end.
He returned to the truck, flipped the seat forward, and began rooting around in the pile of junk stored behind it.
“What’s going on?” Shauna asked.
Not what he’d planned, that was for sure, but this herd was part of Levi’s breeding program, and a heifer calf would be a big loss.
“Looks like we’ve got an orphan. I’ll have to get it back to the ranch.
But first I have to catch it. It’s wild, and I don’t have a bucket of grain to lure it close enough to grab it, so I need a rope.
There’s got to be one in here somewhere. ”
Hazel eyes brimmed over with pity. “Poor baby.”
“If you say so.”
Personally, he thought it was lucky. Either the weather, hunger, or a predator would have gotten it if they hadn’t happened along.
He found what he was searching for buried under an old blanket, a grimy tool kit, and a coil of wire.
Roping the calf in the dark might take more than one attempt, and it didn’t help to have a woman watching him whom he’d like to impress.
The calf hadn’t strayed far. And, since this was his lucky night, he only slid and fell on his ass in the mud once.
Third toss was the charm. He wrestled it to the ground and tied its legs together.
It bawled loudly, making its displeasure heard across half the county, unaware or uncaring that he was saving its life.
Nix eyed the truck, which was a good distance away, and calculated how far he’d have to carry his prize. At roughly two months, and bred for bulk, it weighed in between one-fifty and two hundred pounds. He could lift it, but it would fight him the whole way. He’d have to bring the truck closer.
Shauna stood next to the truck, watching. He knew what she saw as he strode toward her. Mud had seeped through the seat of his jeans and started to stiffen. Grass stained his knees, and his shirt wasn’t much cleaner. Behind him, the angry calf continued to bawl.
“You aren’t going to just leave it there like that, are you?” she asked, sounding anxious, and slightly more lawyerly, as if about to argue the calf’s case in court.
“No. But I’ll need the truck.”
The truck handled the grassland a lot better than the greasy road. He got the tailgate backed up and aligned with the calf.
Shauna followed him around to the back of the truck. The red taillights warmed her bare legs and picked up the pale pink of her dress. He had to give her credit. She wasn’t complaining, although that could change any minute.
“Can I help?” she asked.
He’d seen her ride a horse and he couldn’t imagine how much help she’d prove to be, no matter how well-intentioned she was. Especially wearing that dress and those suede ankle boots.
“I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but I’ve got it.”
He lifted the struggling calf into the back of the truck, then hefted the tailgate and slammed it.
Shauna stood on her toes and peered over the tailgate. “Aren’t you going to untie it?”
“No. If it stands up it might fall out of the truck.”
“But it’s crying. What if it’s hurt?”
She was a city girl, he reminded himself, and they were a whole different breed—like those Tennessee Walkers Ryan raised. Pretty to look at but built more for pleasure than practicality.
Except there’d be no more pleasure tonight.
Not with him covered in grass stains and mud and smelling like he’d rolled in manure—which he undoubtedly had.
“It’s not hurt, it’s hungry. And mad. And it’s wild.
It’ll be fine once I unload it. Levi’s dad is the night manager on duty, and he’s nursed plenty of orphans. ”
He stood for a moment, stretching his back, working the kinks out. Lifting close to two hundred pounds of irate animal wasn’t the workout he’d planned.
“I’m sorry about this evening,” he said, “but thanks to Hermione here, we’re going to have to turn back.”
“You’ve read Harry Potter?”
Her surprise about that amused him. “When I was a kid, yeah. The first couple of books. I don’t remember much about them, other than the cute, bossy girl with the name I had to look up to find out how to pronounce it.” And didn’t it figure that Hermione was the one character he could recall?
Shauna ignored the mud and dirt and the way he smelled. She cupped his face. Her fingers were warm, and unlike him, she smelled delicious.
“You’re going to get dirty,” he warned her, but the way she was looking at him made him not care.
She kissed him as if she didn’t care either.
She tasted as good as she smelled, and maybe his knees weakened a little.
He briefly considered suggesting sex right there, on the tailgate of the truck, despite Hermione looking on, because he wanted her that badly, and wondered if she’d buy in.
She’d managed to surprise him once or twice.
But then she shivered, and tucked her elbows between them for warmth, and he realized how much the air had cooled down. The night was a bust.
“There’s no need to be sorry,” she said. Her breath tickled his throat, just under his ear. “I’m having a wonderful time.”
Maybe not a complete bust. “I suppose watching me land on my ass in the mud and then wrestle a calf might be considered a good time by some.”
“Actually, women find men who are good with babies hard to resist.”
He felt the same way about bossy women with a good sense of humor, but he kept that thought to himself. “I’ll make tonight up to you,” he said.
Hermione took that moment to recover some strength and renew her cries of displeasure.
The truck bed bounced as she struggled against the rope binding her legs.
Shauna patted his chest, then walked to the passenger side of the truck.
She smiled across the shaking truck bed at him.
That smile went straight to his heart. She could be sweet when she wanted.
“I’m not the one you’ll have to make tonight up to,” she said.