Kissing the Bull (3 page)

She wanted to crawl under the
table. She’d been a total bumbling idiot in front of this man since the minute
they’d met. She didn’t know if he found her attractive, but at this rate he’d
think she was a simpleton.

Desperately needing to change
the topic and take the focus off herself, she launched into asking him about
his past.

“So, I hear you were a bull
rider.” She smiled and then forked up a bit of eggs.

He grunted slightly beneath his
breath but didn’t respond as he continued to scarf down the remaining food on
his plate.

Okay, so he didn’t want to
talk.

“Do you still ride?”

He stopped chewing and looked
back up at her. The angry expression was back.

Uh oh.
She’d said something wrong.

“I don’t talk about that.”

She quickly refocused her
attention downward, suddenly enthralled by the piece of ham and the juices
oozing down the plate.

“When you’re finished staring
at your food, I’ll show you around the ranch before I head to work.”

Baylor nodded.

He pushed back his chair and
took his dish to the sink where he proceeded to rinse it off.

“The food is really good, Wyatt.
Thanks for doing this for me.”

He gently placed the plate and
fork in the drain rack and then lifted his Stetson from the nearby countertop, put
it on his head, and headed for the back door.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted,
before he stepped out of earshot.

She didn’t exactly know why she
needed to apologize. She didn’t know this man or what his problem was, but she
seemed to have said something wrong and she didn’t want to start off here with
an enemy.

He paused and looked back at
her.

She thought for a moment he was
going to say something to her. But instead he tapped the rim of his hat with a
finger and nodded at her. Then he was gone.

****

Wyatt watched as the pixie-like
woman made her way through the backyard and down to the field house.

Those perfectly white tennis
shoes wouldn’t make it a day out here in the mud and muck of the stables. He
chuckled at the sight of her with her little khaki pants, sky-blue knit tank
top, and white sneakers. She was way overdressed for the work he had planned
for her today.

Duane had asked him to show her
the ropes of running the ranch and he intended to do just that. He certainly
wasn’t going to cut her any slack just because she was cute.

Her long locks were bound in a
loosely woven braid down her back. She glanced around at the various men who
were working on the ranch. A couple of low whistles had sounded when she’d
passed by the farriers who were here to shoe the horse stock.

She was definitely a tiny
little firecracker.
Sweet on the outside with her soft skin
and tender curves.
But he knew the type and she was really a ball of
energy just waiting to be ridden long and hard.

He turned and began to gather
the supplies they would need to wash and brush the horses. He needed a
distraction to stop these thoughts about her. This wasn’t the time to seduce
the new girl, and certainly not the thing to do if he wanted Duane
Markum
to seriously consider selling him the ranch.

But it was mostly because he
had an idea this little girl was going to steal the ranch right out from under
him, and that made her the enemy.

A pair of arms encircled his
chest. He looked down and immediately recognized the long red fingernails.

“
Hiya
, handsome.
Got time for a quick roll in the hay?”

“Not now, Lola. I’m showing
around the new girl and then I have to get to work.”

She tickled the back of his
neck with her fingertips. He wasn’t in the mood for Lola today. He had a full
day ahead of him and taking time out to deal with her was not improving his
mood.

“Knock it off.” He shrugged out
from under her hold and stepped around the horse to begin brushing the beast’s
coat.

“Is this about
her
?” Her voice suddenly sounded
perturbed.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

At that moment, Baylor stepped
up to them, all smiles and innocence. She grinned at Lola and held out her hand
in greeting.

“I’m Baylor.” Her cheerful
voice and smiling face did nothing to win Lola over. The buckle bunny looked at
her with lips pursed in distaste and didn’t accept the offered handshake.

“That must be so nice for you,”
she responded cattily.

“Lola, this is Mr.
Markum’s
niece.” Wyatt reminded her that the girl was
related to the landowner, and thereby deserved at least a modicum of courtesy.

Lola didn’t respond. Instead
she turned and walked out of the field house toward a group of chatting cowboys
who seemed happy with her sexy, sauntering approach.

Ignoring Lola’s obvious slight
and the awkward silence that followed, Wyatt went back to brushing the horse.

“It’s so beautiful out here,”
Baylor said as she stepped farther inside the field house and tapped her shoes
against the edge of the door frame to knock the dirt off.

Wyatt watched as she continued kicking
her shoe against the frame. The stubborn mud stayed right where it was…stuck to
the soles of her sneakers. Her kicks became more aggressive and he had to look
away to avoid bursting into laughter.

“Well, I guess I didn’t wear
the right kind of shoes,” she said matter-of-factly, finally giving up the
cause.

“We’re going to start with
washing and brushing the horses.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Her
voice was enthusiastic.

He chanced a look back at her to
find her face lit up with eagerness. He didn’t understand why anyone would want
to do barn chores. He’d heard Melba talking about how her niece had two college
degrees and was a successful nurse back in Atlanta.

Why on earth would she want to
work here at the ranch doing menial labor?

“Yeah, it’s a real blast. I’m
just going to get you started and then I’ve got to go for a while.”

“Oh, you won’t be helping me
then?” Her voice seemed to quiver a little with nervousness.

He didn’t respond but actually
thought for a moment about hanging around with her for a while. If nothing
else, he wanted to see how that tank top fit her curves when she got it all wet
washing the horses.

“Why don’t you go down to the
third stall there and bring me the red bucket and the scrub brushes?”

She took off down the hall of
stables and stopped in front of the third stall. He turned and started to
unwind the hose from its storage coil. That was when he heard her scream.

Chapter
Three

The body lay slumped against
the far wall of the stable. At first glance she had thought he was sleeping.

Baylor thought he looked nice
enough and didn’t want to see him get into trouble. So, she’d entered the stall
and knelt down beside him. She’d gently shaken his shoulder to wake him, and
then she’d seen the blood.

She didn’t realize she’d
screamed until she heard booted footsteps run down the stable hall and enter
behind her.

She looked up to see Wyatt
hovering over her. Two other men pushed past her moments later.

Wyatt was barking some orders
to the other two men, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Then, he
turned to her and must have noticed her looking at him strangely, because he
knelt down in front of her and snapped his fingers in front of her face.

“Baylor, are you okay?”

His voice reached her ears, but
he sounded far away despite his proximity.

The feel of his warm hand on
her cheek seemed to rouse her from the well of her thoughts. She looked down at
herself and saw she was kneeling on the floor. Her hands were on her thighs
balled into clinched fists.

“Are you okay?”

Wyatt’s voice sounded louder
now.

“I’m okay.” She managed the
words, but it was difficult to breathe and talk at the same time.

“What’s going on here?” Baylor
turned to see Duane standing at the door to the stall.

Wyatt stood to greet him.

She watched the two men
exchange glances and a few words, but she couldn’t really make them out.

She heard sirens in the
distance and wondered who had called the ambulance. Little white spots began to
float before her eyes, her chest heavy.

She watched Wyatt reach in his
pocket and pull out something gold and shiny. He clipped it over the pocket of
his red shirt. Her uncle was nodding and Wyatt was motioning toward her with
his outstretched thumb.

She had only two more thoughts
before she fell toward the hard floor of the stall. Wyatt, the mean cowboy, was
a cop. And she, the unemployed nurse, was in shock.

****

“I thought you said she was a
nurse?” Wyatt asked Duane as they watched the paramedics load Baylor onto a
stretcher.

“She was, one of the best in
her field right out of nursing school,” the older man said as he removed his
hat and scratched the thin patch of hair atop his head.

“You’d think she’d seen a dead
body or two in a place like Atlanta.”

Duane let out a sigh and
nodded.

Wyatt knew there was more to
the story, but the old man wasn’t talking. Something had happened to this
girl…something outside the ordinary daily gore and violence an emergency room
nurse witnessed. Something had driven her all the way up here to a horse farm
in Kentucky.

“Who would want to kill Leon
Rinks?”

Wyatt turned back to look at
the dead body now sprawled on its back. One of the medics had thought he
detected a faint pulse and had wanted to run CPR and attach him to the monitors
to check for a heartbeat before they called it quits.

No such luck. Leon Rinks was
dead and Wyatt Winston, sheriff of Versailles, now had a new case to deal with
right in his own back yard.

“I don’t know, Duane, but I
damned sure intend to find out.”

“Well, do
me
a favor and try to keep this quiet around peanut, would you?”

Wyatt could hear the affection
in the old man’s voice when he spoke of his niece. He knew then he was going to
have a heck of a time convincing this man to sell him the family’s homestead if
the tiny redhead had her heart set on staying here for good.

“No problem,” Wyatt said and
then left the stall to wait for the medical examiner outside.

****

“What do you think?” Wyatt
asked Dr. Walters as he examined the blood on the side of Leon’s head.

“Hard to say.
He could have fallen from the hayloft up
there. The way his body is positioned, it could mean he fell and was hurt. He
may have managed to crawl over here, but was too weak to call for help.”

Wyatt nodded. It sounded
plausible. He hoped that was what happened.
Just a sad,
tragic accident and not the alternative.

“Of course, that doesn’t
explain why his belt buckle is undone.”

“His what?”
Wyatt stepped forward to peer over the
doctor’s shoulder.

“Guess he could have been
relieving himself when he fell.”

“Oh shit. What am I supposed to
tell the
Markums
about this?”

Dr. Walters stood up and dusted
off the knees of his dress pants.

“I wouldn’t tell them anything,
Wyatt. Not until I can get the body back to my lab and do a full examination. I
probably won’t have results for you until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.”

Wyatt rubbed the back of his
neck. Things were getting serious around this ranch in a hurry. The incidents
had gone from petty theft to possible murder. The worst part was
,
he’d been almost positive Leon was the one responsible for
the theft. He’d just been trying to gather some evidence before he confronted
and arrested him.

Now he just wasn’t sure.
Nothing was making a whole hell of a lot of sense around here.

“All right.
I’ll just let them know you’re looking
into it for protocol’s sake. I’m wondering if I should move them out of the
house temporarily. Something’s just not right around here, and I’m starting to
worry about them.”

“I would bet Duane
Markum
won’t leave this house easily. Maybe you can get
that little redhead to convince him to go.”