Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Nicole Williams

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

I was ready to glare at him when that burnt smell entered my nose. A quick inspection of the griddle revealed that my lovely golden pancakes were, indeed, smoking.

“Shoot,” I said, unsure how I managed to censor myself in the midst of my first attempt at breakfast going up in flames. Or, up in smoke. “They never bubbled!” I fumbled with the spatula and tried to slide it under the center pancakes.

Even through the hustle and bustle of the rest of the ranch hands making their way into the room, I heard Jesse’s amused chuckle from back at the table.

“They don’t bubble once you flip them over, silly,” Lily said, appearing out of nowhere. Grabbing the spatula, she had all of those pancakes off the griddle faster than I could have removed one of them.

“Then how do you know when they’re done?” I asked, grimacing when I saw the damage. One side was golden brown, and the other side was a crispy char black.

Lily dropped a pat of butter onto the griddle, swirled it around, then poured six more pancakes. “You just get a feel for it. Through a lot of trial and error.” Her eyes dropped to the ruined pancakes, and she smiled.

“Story of my life,” I muttered. “The trial and error part. I still haven’t experienced the whole get-a-feel-for-it part yet.”

“Tomorrow’s another day,” she replied, focusing on the pancakes. “Dream big.”

I lifted my brows. Was that what I thought it was? A note of smartass in sweet Lily Walker’s vocab? I didn’t realize that characteristic ran in anyone in the family other than Jesse.

“Why don’t you pour the coffee?” Lily suggested. “Carefully.”

“No guarantees.” I made my way over to the coffee pot and hoped I didn’t spill hot coffee on some poor cowboy’s crotch.

In a minute’s time, the kitchen had filled up with more cowboys than I could count. The couple dozen pegs sticking out of the wall were almost all filled with different kinds and colors of cowboy hats. Apparently wearing your hat to Rose Walker’s table wasn’t tolerated. The guys milling about the room were as varied as their hats. Tall, short. Slim, stocky. Young, old. Light skinned, dark skinned. It was the most varied group of cowboys I’d ever seen.

Well, it was really the first group of cowboys I’d ever seen.

However, one characteristic joined them all together. They all drank coffee. And a lot of it. Before Rose and the girls had finished setting all the breakfast goods on the table, I’d gone through three full pots of coffee. I understood why Rose prepared a few gallons of it in advance.

Jesse introduced me to everyone as I milled my way around, and everyone greeted me with a tip of their head and some sort of greeting followed by ma’am. By the time everyone had full plates, I felt as comfortable as I could around a couple dozen ranch hands, and I knew that was thanks to Jesse and his easy introductions. He was a member of the club, and he saw to it I became one right off the bat.

It was nice to be included. It was nice to feel a part of something.

It was the first time I’d had that in a while.

“More coffee?” I asked, stopping behind Jesse. His cup was still half full.

He twisted in his seat, a smile already on his face. “Please,” he said, handing me his cup. My fingers grazed his when I took the cup, and if I’d ever felt a more intimate touch, I couldn’t recall it. God. One finger graze and my heart thrummed like it was about to take off.

As I poured, Jesse’s eyes shifted to mine and they didn’t look away. Mine didn’t either, or . . . they couldn’t. When Jesse Walker looked at me that way, it was all I could do to look back and stay upright.

“Coffee,” he said suddenly, glancing at his cup.

My eyebrows came together.

“Overflowing.” He smirked at the cup so I really couldn’t peel my eyes away.

A few chuckles sounded around us.

“Pooling on the floor.” When Jesse reached for his napkin, I finally caught up.

Gauging from the size of the puddle, coffee had been spilling over the side of the cup for longer than a second or two.

“Shit,” I said, righting the coffee pot immediately. Setting it on the table, I grabbed a stack of napkins before kneeling beside Jesse. “I mean . . . shoot.”

“Nah,” he said, wiping up the sea of coffee in one long sweep. “You mean shit. This is definitely a mess worthy of a shit, not a shoot.”

I smiled at the floor as I wiped up the last of the coffee. “At least it didn’t end up in your lap.”

“I’m counting my blessings as we speak.” His hair fell over his forehead, moving in ways that made me want to run my fingers through it as he continued to scrub the floor. His hair was really much too nice to stay hidden beneath a cowboy hat all day. “So . . . have you decided?”

“Decided on what?”

“If you’re going to let me take you out some time. You know, a date? Something other than kneeling on a floor and cleaning up coffee?” Jesse’s gaze stayed on the spot where the coffee had been. Almost like he was suddenly shy.

I cleared my throat and looked around. Everyone was too busy eating to pay us any attention. “Well, you didn’t really ask me,” I said. “And you haven’t really given me much time to think about what you didn’t really ask me.”

Jesse scooped up the wet napkins and tossed them into the garbage can at the end of the kitchen without standing. He inhaled a long breath before locking his eyes on mine. “Rowen Sterling,” he said, his voice strong, “can I take you on a date sometime?”

I knew I should try, but I couldn’t keep my face from lighting up. “I don’t know. Can you?” I teased.

He sighed. “May I? May I take you on a date sometime?”

“Because you don’t have a girlfriend—”

“Or a boyfriend. Or a cattlefriend,” he mumbled, giving me a look. Good. So he remembered my question.

“And because you’re kind of cute,” I continued, “and because you’re not afraid to get down and dirty,” I stared pointedly at where he kneeled beside me, “I promise I’ll think about going on a date with you. Sometime.”

If Jesse’s expression could get more relieved, I couldn’t envision it. “I’ve never been so excited for sometime.”

I heard the kitchen door open behind us, but I didn’t pay it any attention. That was, until a shiny, black pair of cowboy boots stepped right next to me.

“No need to get down on your hands and knees on my account.”

Jesse went rigid the instant he heard the guy’s voice. My eyes moved up those black boots, to his hub cap-sized silver belt buckle stamped with a man riding a bull, and ending on his black, felt hat. His skin was almost as fair as mine, and his eyes were so dark it was hard to distinguish the pupil from the iris. Lanky, dark, and sinister. That guy, minus the hick wear, was just my type.

When Jesse shifted beside me and all two hundred pounds of bronzy, brawn, and blond of him stood, my heart thundered in my chest again. Maybe my type had changed. Or was changing. Or was in transition. It was all very confusing.

Mr. Dark and Sinister’s mouth curved up on one side as those dark eyes took me in. “Not that you don’t look great down there, but let me give you a hand,” he said, extending his hand toward me. If the expression on his face didn’t say it all, his tone did.

Jesse pivoted in front of him, lowering his hand toward me. I took it without stopping to think. It was natural. Easy. Effortless. When Jesse reached out for me, I reached back.

“Who’s your new friend, Jess?” the other guy asked, stepping around the tower of man in front of me.

If it was possible, Jesse’s body tensed even more. I wasn’t sure if Jesse kept his mouth sealed shut because he plain just didn’t want to talk to the other guy or he didn’t want to introduce us. Either way, he obviously wouldn’t make the introductions, and the other guy obviously wouldn’t move until the introductions were made.

Taking matters into my own hands, I crossed my arms and leveled the other guy with a no nonsense look. “I’m Rowen.”

Jesse’s eyes closed.

Dark and Sinister Boy’s eyes went a shade darker. “Rowen . . .?”

“Miss Rowen to you,” I said, lifting a brow. “And a first name’s all you’re getting because you have to earn a last name.”

“Does this guy know it?” he replied, hitching his thumb Jesse’s direction.

“Yeah. He does.”

“So you’ll give Jesse Walker your last name, but you won’t tell me,” he said, resting his thumbs on his belt buckle. “Why’s that?”

“He earned it.” I glanced at Jesse from the corner of my eyes. He watched me so carefully it was like he was worried I was about to be snatched away in the blink of an eye.

“Garth,” he said, extending his hand. I let it hang there. “And because you’re the finest thing I’ve seen in a while, you’ve earned yourself a last name.” Jesse’s hands curled into fists. “Black. Garth Black.”

From his jeans to his boots to his eyes . . . to his entire demeanor, he personified his last name perfectly.

When Garth realized I wouldn’t shake his hand anytime this century, he dropped it. His eyes slid from me to Jesse. They went a shade darker.

“Long time no see, old pal,” he said.

Jesse blew a rush of air from his nose. “What are you doing here, Black?”

“Well, it certainly isn’t to worship at your feet like the rest of this damn town. And it sure isn’t to make a heartfelt apology.”

Storm clouds rolled through those sky blue eyes of Jesse’s. “Spit it out,” he said, his jaw clenching. “What the hell are you doing on my property?”

If it wasn’t so hot inside the kitchen, chills would have crawled up my spine from the ice in Jesse’s voice. Those two had history. That was as obvious as their mutual hatred. What that history was and where that hate came from was the mystery. As much as I loved a good mystery, now was neither the time nor place to get to the bottom of it. For the most part, the rest of the guys sitting around the table were consumed with stuffing their mouths, but I caught Rose and Lily throwing us a few sideways looks.

“Your dad hired me on,” Garth replied. “I’m going to be helping out this summer.”

“How long are you going to last this time?” Jesse replied, angling in front of him. Toe to toe, Jesse had him by a couple of inches even with Garth’s hat still on. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” He shook his head. “Commitment isn’t really your thing.”

“No, it certainly isn’t,” Garth said with that wicked half smile of his. “Commitment’s boring. Predictable. It sucks the life out of a person.” He ran his eyes down Jesse intentionally. “Commitment’s more your thing.”

Whatever had happened between them ran deeper than an everyday disagreement. Judging from the looks in their eyes whenever they looked at each other, if murder was legal, they wouldn’t have hesitated.

“You boys catching up?” A middle-aged man stepped up to the three of us and clapped one hand over Jesse’s shoulder and another over Garth’s.

“We sure are, Mr. Walker,” Garth replied, his eyes gleaming.

Ah. So there was the Mr. Walker I’d heard so much about but was starting to believe was the man hiding behind the curtains. He was on the short side and had brown hair and eyes like the rest of his family minus one. How had Rose and Neil created the blond Viking god beside me? DNA was a funny thing.

“I thought we were all hired up for the summer,” Jesse said to his dad.

“We were. Right up until Phil Jepson decided his old body couldn’t take another summer at Willow Springs. He let me know he was leaving yesterday morning, and when I ran into town last night to pick up some supplies, guess who I ran into?”

“Since Garth Black is standing in front of me, I don’t think I need to guess,” was Jesse’s clipped response.

“Since you boys go so far back, and Garth promised me he was committed to finishing out the entire summer, unlike last summer,” Neil quirked a brow at Garth, “I decided to give him a second chance.” Neil’s gaze shifted to me, and he smiled. “We’re big fans of second chances around here.”

“Second chances, sure,” Jesse said, staring down Garth. “Seventh chances, not so much.”

Neil gave his son an odd look before extending his hand toward me. “Rowen Sterling, it’s nice to finally meet you. Sorry it didn’t happen sooner. A couple thousand head of cattle have a way of eating up a person’s day and night.”

I matched his smile and shook his hand. As with Rose, I liked Neil immediately. “I can imagine.”

“We’re glad to have you here, Rowen,” he said. “How’s your first day going in the kitchen?”

Jesse shot me a wry smile which I pretended to ignore.

“I crispified a batch of pancakes and spilled some coffee,” I answered, lifting the empty pot in my hand. “Could have been worse.”

Neil chuckled. “I have a feeling you’ll keep things exciting around here,” he said, before heading to the last empty seat at the head of the table.

“Me, too,” Garth added, giving me an expectant look.

“Take a seat, Garth,” Jesse said, more of an order than a request.

“That’s all right,” Garth replied, refusing to look at Jesse. He looked at me so intently, I stepped back. “I want to get to know Rowen better.”

“Give it a rest, Garth,” Jesse said. “Rowen’s smart. Smart enough to know to stay away from guys like you.”

Garth clucked his tongue. “You know who wasn’t smart enough to stay away from me?”

Jesse’s face went from tan to red in about two seconds flat.

Time for an intervention.

“You two know each other, eh?” I said, asking what was quite possibly the stupidest question of the year. There was no doubt those two knew each other.

“We were best friends,” Garth answered.

I don’t think I would have been more surprised if I’d just been crowned Miss America.

“Were,” Jesse said under his breath.

“We used to share everything.” Garth was pushing Jesse’s buttons. That was obvious from the way his smile slid a little higher when Jesse’s face went another shade redder.

“Used to.”

“I don’t know, Jesse,” Garth said, polishing his belt buckle with his thumb. “I seem to recall us sharing something recently.”

When I was certain Jesse would lunge at Garth, Hyacinth slid up beside the three of us, looking oblivious. She tapped Jesse on the shoulder. “Josie’s on the phone.”

“Take a message.” Jesse’s voice was ice, but his face was still on fire.

“Again?” Hyacinth replied before Jesse leveled her with a look. “Fine.” She sighed as she left. “I’ll take a message. Another message.”

“Say hello to Josie for me, will ya?” Garth called after Hyacinth. “It’s been a while.”

Hyacinth waved her response and continued on.

“Just how long’s it been, Jesse? I forget.” Garth stroked his chin.

“Who’s Josie?” I asked Jesse.

But Garth answered. “Jesse’s girlfriend.” Garth’s eyes darkened and he flexed his hips.

Moving so fast he was a blur, Jesse shoved Garth so hard in the chest Garth stumbled across half of the room.

“Jesse!” Neil bolted out of his seat and squared himself in front of his son before Garth got there. “What the hell is going on here?”

Jesse’s chest rose and fell hard. His eyes were as dark and narrowed as I’d ever seen them. They never left Garth, who had recovered from the shove and was scowling at Jesse. I half expected him to curl his finger in welcome so they could finish what they’d started.

When Jesse stayed silent and seething, Neil looked over his shoulder at Garth. “Well? Someone better speak up, or I’ll have you both on laundry duty the rest of the month.”

Garth adjusted his shirt where Jesse’s shove had rumpled it. “Just a miscommunication, Mr. Walker.”

Neil studied Garth for a minute before turning back to his son. “Jesse?”

After another minute of Jesse looking as if he was attempting to kill Garth with his stare, he backed away and headed for the back door. “What Garth said. A miscommunication.” The screen door slammed shut behind him, and then he was gone.

Neil, along with the rest of the kitchen who’d seen what had happened, watched the door where Jesse had disappeared. They studied it as though it made no sense. A few moments later, Neil headed back for his seat. Passing Garth, he said, “That’s not to happen in my house again, young man. You got it?” Neil waited for Garth to nod his acknowledgement. “I don’t care who starts it or what it’s about, I will not tolerate fighting on my ranch.”

Done with that, Neil dropped back down in his chair and dove into his eggs. Everyone else did the same.

I just stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Jesse had almost gone full-on Hulk in front of me. He’d become a person I didn’t recognize. He’d looked ready to strangle another person for two dozen witnesses to see.

It was a series of messed up things. But the most messed up thing I couldn’t get out of my head were those two words from Garth’s mouth: Jesse’s girlfriend.

Jesse had a girlfriend. He’d just asked me out on a date. The phrase What the hell? came to mind.

“Hey,” Lily nudged up beside you. “You okay?”

The answer was a firm, resounding no, so I went with a half-hearted shrug.

“What was that about? The last time I saw Jesse angry was when I took a black Sharpie to his cowboy hat when I was in preschool.”

So his surge of anger was as out-of-character as I suspected. Whatever bad blood flowed between him and Garth ran deep.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Testosterone overload? Those tight jeans were cutting the blood off to their brains? Men as a whole are reverting back to their monkey origins?” I could go on, but right then, I wanted to forget the whole thing and get through the rest of breakfast. “I don’t know, but I do know one thing—it’s a waste of time trying to figure out the male brain since most of them are lacking one.”

Lily laughed softly. “I’ve had my suspicions the whole time.”

“That’s because you’re a smart girl.” I retrieved the empty coffee pot and headed to refill it. Almost all of the cups I’d filled less than five minutes ago were empty. Cowboys drank more coffee than beings of a mortal quality should be able to handle.

A couple minutes later, everyone had settled back into their breakfasts, and I made sure to stay busy. I was like a squirrel in fall, bustling about the kitchen, moving from one task to the next seamlessly. Against all odds, I managed not to spill, break, or drop anything else. I started to wonder if my body had been invaded by some alien being, and then my gaze landed on Garth. He sat at the table, ignoring his meal, ignoring everyone else . . . except me. His eyes followed me with the kind of intensity that made it hard to determine if I was the predator or the prey.

As soon as my eyes met his, that dark smile of his moved into place. I tripped over my own feet. Thankfully I wasn’t carrying anything or it would have been a goner.

After that, I didn’t look at Garth again, but I still felt his eyes on me. Every move I made, I was aware of him watching me.

By the end of breakfast, I was certain of what I was to him: the prey.

It excited me as much as it alarmed me.

For all the prep and work that went into it, the actual consumption of breakfast was a quick deal. In addition to be champion coffee chuggers, cowboys could pound down some serious grub. We’re talking a half dozen pancakes, a slab of ham, and a plate-sized portion of scrambled eggs each. What would have taken me a year to get through had just been consumed there that morning.

Once we’d all eaten, the table was cleared, the dishes washed, and everything laid out for lunch, Rose set us free. Well, kind of free. The girls had school work to get to. I gave them a sympathetic smile as they headed into the living room with their pencils and calculators.

Since I had yet to explore any more of Willow Springs than the house, I decided to head outside for a little fresh air. I grabbed my sketchbook and favorite pencil just in case I found anything I just had to draw, tucked them inside of my oversized purse, and headed outside. The weather had taken a turn and the early morning air had enough of a chill I wished I had my trusty black hoodie.

The giant red barn loomed in front of me like it could swallow me whole. When the reminder of the big reveal at breakfast raced to the forefront of my mind again, I kind of wished it would. A bunch of guys had lied to me about their relationship status. More guys than I could count. That wasn’t what I was upset about. The lies I’d come to expect. What I was upset about was that I hadn’t expected it from Jesse. I’d lowered my guard around him because my subconscious had been fooled into believing he was different. Jesse Walker, golden cowboy whose dimples alone could unnerve a girl, couldn’t possibly be hiding a girlfriend like the rest of them.

But he had been. The whole time. In all our conversations, our flirty banter, our asinine question game, and when he’d asked me out . . . never once had a certain Josie come up. Even though I’d only known Jesse a few days, his betrayal cut deeply.

I wandered into the barn and tried to push all thoughts of betrayal, girlfriends, and Jesse Walker out of my mind. I was done pretending there might or ever could be something special between us.

The barn was as huge from the inside as it was from the outside. It had a grassy, tangy smell right between pleasant and offensive. I couldn’t decide. As I passed a stack of bags taller and wider than I was, I saw what Jesse had been heaving out of his truck: feed grain.

The barn had a never ending number of stalls, an unbelievably tall tower of hay bales, and only about a million different tools, buckets, hoses, and thingamajigs hanging on the walls. The only tool I was familiar with was the row of shovels. Everything else I would have been at a loss with.

I was almost to the end of the barn when a wheel barrow bounced out of the last stall on the right. Followed by a certain cowboy I really wasn’t in the mood to see. His trademark dark smile and predatory eyes went into position as soon as he noticed me.

“Well, if this isn’t the damn pleasantest surprise I’ve had all week,” Garth said, parking the wheelbarrow outside the stall before walking my way. Actually, it was more of a saunter. Garth Black had a serious saunter as unapologetic as the way he stared at me.

Damn, the guy was so my type everything inside me tightened in anticipation. At the same time, I also knew “my type” had gotten me a whole lotta nowhere in the past.

“It is a surprise,” I said, crossing my arms.

The skin between his brows came together. He was thrown by my lack of warm welcome. Cocky bastard. I wanted to ignore him that much more.

“You don’t like me,” he guessed, stopping a few feet in front of me. His black hat was tilted low on his forehead, making his eyes dark as onyx.

I lifted a shoulder. “I just met you. Not liking you would assume I’ve actually spent time thinking about you. Which I haven’t.” I wondered if that ever present curl to Garth’s mouth could be ironed out.

“You’re about as good a liar as you are pretending you’re not attracted to me.”

My mouth almost dropped. He wasn’t just a cocky bastard. He was the cockiest bastard to have ever sauntered the earth.

“Are you always this full of yourself or just today?”

Garth’s smile curled higher. “Always.”

Of course he was. “And where does this full-of-one-self attitude come from?” I asked, crossing my arms tighter.

“Experience.”

Garth infuriated me, but a thrill of excitement rushed through me at the same time. I didn’t know what it was about that kind of guy, who thought they were next in line to rule the world, that appealed to me, but the desire ran deep. So deep I doubted I could root it out even if I wanted to. Which, while Garth held me with his stare and smile, I didn’t want to.

But I had enough experience with that kind of guy to know one didn’t keep their attention by falling into their traps on the first day. They craved the chase, the anticipation of the kill. Guys like Garth were the ultimate predator.

“You know, I don’t live all that far from here if you’re ever bored and looking for something to do,” he said, resting his hands on his belt buckle.

I huffed. “You mean if I’m ever looking for someone to do?”

“That depends on your answer to that.”

I really regretted my decision to explore the grounds, especially with the way Garth’s thumb made those slow circles over that belt buckle of his. I wasn’t sure if he did it to draw my attention to his junk, or he just liked having a hand as close to it as was acceptable in public, but it definitely had something to do with the junk.

“My answer is no,” I said. “Any day. Every day. It will be no.”

Garth’s twisted smile didn’t falter. “It’s always no until it’s yes. And I’ve never met a no I couldn’t turn into a yes.”

“Well, you’re looking at your first no that’s going to stay a no.” Oh, and by the way, that ego of yours is sucking the air right out of the room.

He slid his hat off and lowered it at his side. His hair was as dark as his eyes, maybe a shade darker, but still not as dark as his smile. I’d never met a person who so exactly fit their last name. His eyes flashed, and at that moment, I was fairly certain if he sauntered up to me, grabbed me in his arms and kissed me deep and hard, I would have kissed him back. And he knew it.

“We’ll see,” he said with a wink.

I gave myself an imaginary slap to the face and waited to reply until I was sure I wouldn’t come off sounding like a befuddled schoolgirl. It took longer than I thought.

“I’m going to leave you to your cow shit,” I curled my nose at the wheelbarrow, “and ego. Not enough room for anything else with that head of yours in here.” I was halfway down the barn when Garth spoke up.

“Going after Jesse?”

I bristled and stopped in my tracks. “No. I’m planning on staying as far away from Jesse as Willow Springs will allow.”

“Glad to hear it. I know the outcome to a girl like you chasing after a guy like Jesse Walker. And it isn’t a pretty one.”

I closed my eyes. I knew that. Even with a girlfriend he’d lied to me about, Jesse was still ten levels above me on the dating scale. Nothing I’d done or would do could ever be worthy of the likes of Jesse, even on his worst day, which, after today, may have been it.

I was heading for the entrance when Garth spoke up again. “What are you doing Saturday night?”

I paused. I knew better than to answer, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Nothing.”

“Ever been to a rodeo?”

I almost snapped back Does it look like I have? when I remembered I wasn’t in my usual attire. As far as I knew, Garth didn’t know anything about me except what he’d seen after he arrived that morning.

When I didn’t reply, I heard him move closer. “You want to come watch me at one?” There wasn’t one note of doubt in his question.

Twisting around, I narrowed my eyes. “Does it look like I do?” The question was rhetorical, but Garth didn’t take it that way.

“Yeah,” he answered. “It sure does.”

I hated it like I couldn’t have hated anything more, but he was right.