Cowboy Rush (Dalton Boys Book 5) (2 page)

“What do you need shaving cream for? Looks like you haven’t shaved in a month,” Cash ribbed him.

“Speak for yourself.” The black dusting of hair was impossible to keep off their faces. He’d let his beard go longer mainly because he didn’t have anybody to please.

“Beards are all the rage,” Charlotte spoke up from beside Hank.

“Is that so?” Momma asked.

“Yes, in cities too. Men are looking more and more like Daniel Boone.” Charlotte was the most fashion-conscious of the group. Kade had seen her youngest son pull himself up on the coffee table and enjoy five uninterrupted minutes of ripping the glossy magazines off the surface before his mother entered the room.

Kade smiled. “I won’t be going to any cities, and we’re so remote, trends don’t matter. But we could use some help around the ranch, and I’m willing to give more than the rest of ya to make it happen.”

Pa cleared his throat. “It’s mighty good of you, son. And if you really don’t mind, I’ll take you up on it for the first two months. Then we’ll reevaluate and see how the money’s stretching. I won’t take part of your wages indefinitely.”

He gave a single nod of understanding.

“Yeah, good of you, bro,” Hank said. The other brothers sounded off too, and Kade felt it—that strange camaraderie after the pig pen incident. Brothers that worked side-by-side day in and day out fought, but brothers who got in trouble together stuck together.

“I’ll take your offer,” he told his pa.

“How are we going to find a hand?” Beck asked, still hunched at the shoulders around some pain.

“Leave it to me,” Hank said.

The rest of breakfast passed with only teasing and banter between his brothers and their wives. Kade’s parents discussed their next trip into the big city for more supplies than the Vixen General Store offered.

Kade finished his meal and carried his plate to the sink. When he looked up, he found Addie’s little round eyes following him. A tiny invisible hole in his chest opened a bit more. He was glad to preserve the family values for the next generation—he only wished he could have a few children of his own to protect it for.

* * * * *

Ryan’s phone buzzed from the back of her skin-tight True Religion jeans. She eased her cell from the rhinestone-encrusted pocket and brought it to her ear while working the strap of her saddle with the other. She didn’t usually ride with rhinestones on her butt, but her plain jeans were in the wash.

“Hunter here.”

“For goodness sakes, Ryan, isn’t it bad enough your father gave you a man’s name without adopting another one?”

She pushed out a breath and braced herself for a phone call with her mother. “If you didn’t like the name Ryan, why’d you let him call me that?”

“He was a strong-willed man, you know that. He took care of everything.”

“Even naming babies, I guess.” Ryan tried to keep her tone light, but since her father’s passing, she and her mom had been constantly butting heads. First the reading of the will had set her and her three brothers on edge, then her mom had told them she was selling the ranch to Uncle Jay.

That still jabbed poisoned barbs into Ryan. Daddy had worked hard to grow the ranch to what it was today. She and her brothers could have easily managed it for years to come. They wanted to. But her mother claimed she’d always hated ranching, had her sights set on a property in Boca Raton and selling was the only option—for her.

“Why are you calling, Mom?” Ryan’s horse gave a soft whicker and nudged her sleeve. Her favorite mare knew Ryan came bearing treats and she hadn’t yet gotten one. Switching the phone to her other hand, Ryan fished into her front pocket for a bit of oatmeal bar.

As the horse chomped it down, Ryan leaned against its warm, comforting side and listened to her mother gush about the scenery at the retirement community she was moving into.

“So it’s a done deal, Mom? The ranch is no longer ours?” Ryan’s chest felt tight. She’d always been a country girl, doing ranch chores since she could walk. But after her father’s cancer battle, she’d taken over in earnest. Learning the ropes fast, determined to do everything her brothers had before they’d gotten married and branched out on their own. Nobody was going to look down on her because she was a woman doing what had been men’s business for hundreds of years.

She wasn’t her mother—a soft, pampered Southern woman who’d depended far too much on her husband. So much so that when he’d been unable to take care of her, her mother had crumbled. Somehow a little two-bedroom cottage with a palm tree in the front had restored her, though.

“Yes, Ryan, the ranch is no longer ours. But Jay promises you’ll always have a place if you want it.”

She looked out the barn door at the lush green fields. Knowing the land no longer had the Hunter name on it made her feel like an intruder. Her heart gave an odd flip-flop but she did what was becoming the norm for her since her father’s death—she stuffed her emotions down and put a brave note to her voice.

“It might be time to strike out on my own, Mom.”

“Where will you go? You can always come down here. There are plenty of jobs.”

The idea of sleeping in her mother’s guest room made her more claustrophobic. A crawling feeling settled over her. “Thank you but no. I’ll find something myself. I have a lot of experience ranching.”

“Oh Ryan, please tell me you aren’t planning to take a job as a ranch hand.” She said the words as if they were covered in manure.

“It’s what I love, Mom. Of course that’s what I plan to do.” Until she spoke, she hadn’t realized it was true. Since hearing the ranch would no longer belong to her and her family, she’d been thinking about taking off. Ranchers always needed good workers, and she was that much.

She listened for several more minutes to her mother talk about the paddle boats she could use in the community lake and how she was having a brandy with a ladies group. All the while, Ryan’s mind flitted from local ranch to ranch, wondering just where she would be welcome.

A woman ranch hand had to prove herself tenfold. Nobody would give a five-foot-four-inch redhead—with
freckles,
for God’s sake—a job over a strapping tough guy.

With a sigh, she decided it was time to let her mother go, along with the ranch and all the dreams that went with it. She was going to find a new position. She’d begin with an advertisement. If anything, her daddy had given her a good start—her name. Nobody would guess she was female until she came for the job interview. After that, her wits and skills would earn her a place on the ranch.

Chapter Two

“I brought Witt’s favorite dessert.” Shelby bustled past Kade and settled a glass dish on the kitchen counter. “It’s still warm.”

Kade stood back from the whirlwind, just watching and shaking his head as every Dalton family member crowded inside.

“Must be caramel apple cobbler.” Momma peeked beneath the aluminum foil covering and the sweet scent of apple drifted out.

“Kade, grab the door for Maya, would you?”

Gladly. The kitchen was a hot-bed of activity on Sunday afternoon. Women chiding husbands and children for getting underfoot. The brothers stripping off their church clothes and doing a few chores before scrubbing up for dinner at the big farmhouse sink.

He opened the door and Maya plopped Addie into his arms. He barely fielded the little girl before Maya shoved by him carrying her toddler who was wearing only one boot. The child’s foot was encased in mud.

On second thought… “Is that pig shit I smell?”

Maya gave him a look that said she didn’t appreciate his bad language. “Yes, it is. Your niece thought it would be fun to get into the pen and chase the pigs. She lost a boot in the process but the big old sow wasn’t letting me in to get it.”

Kade couldn’t help but chuckle at his sister-in-law’s incensed tone, her accent thicker when she was riled. “Here. You take Addie and give me Emma. I’ll take her out and hose her off.”

They juggled children and he did as promised, using the hose on his niece. She squealed at the cold water and he wondered where her sock was. Once he took her inside with her toes damp and pink, most of the Daltons were settled at the big table.

As he glanced at the faces, his heart gave a strange hollow gasp. After Sunday dinner, the brothers would take their families home, leaving Kade on his own. Times like this he wished like hell he had spare hours to go look for a wife. But ranch duties always called.

At the table, plates were heaped with roast beef and potatoes with gravy. One of the ladies had made green beans with a creamy dressing so good Kade ate two helpings. Of course, the roll basket was emptied and he didn’t get a second one. But Shelby’s dessert made up for it, especially when Momma added a scoop of homemade ice cream.

Talk shifted between cattle to finding Emma’s lost sock and boot to what Disney movie Hank’s family would cozy up with later. Soon Kade’s brothers were carrying their kids back out the door and the kitchen was empty.

Kade sat there, feeling a despondence he was becoming all too familiar with. He stared at his hands. Rough with work, his knuckles were still healing from the fight with his brothers.

“Kade.”

He looked up at his father’s gruff tone. Pa crossed the room and turned his chair backward to straddle it. “I need you to make a drive for me.”

“Okay. Do we need seed?” They’d been discussing a second planting of corn though it was late in the season.

“No. Hank found a ranch hand and I need you to go after him.”

“That’s good news.” It didn’t surprise him. His eldest brother had always been quick and efficient.

“His flight lands at six.”

“Where’s he coming from?”

“Don’t know. This is all Hank told me. I thought you wouldn’t mind making the trip since…” He didn’t need to finish. Kade knew all too well he was the extra around here—the lost sock.

He pushed away from the table. “I’d best get on the road if I’m going to make it in time. What’s the guy’s name?”

“Ryan Hunter.”

Kade gave a nod. He looked forward to making a new friend and having some camaraderie again. With his brothers so involved in their own lives, he was lonelier than he cared to admit. But he and Hunter could hit the bar on a Friday night or maybe wander into the bigger towns for a good time.

As the country roads unfurled into wider highways leading to the city and the airport, he brightened a little. Having an extra pair of hands on the ranch would help so much. Maybe even free a little time for him to go find a lady.

A horn blare made him jerk, and he tightened his grip on the wheel. A sports car cut him off and he had to slam on the brakes. “Damn city drivers.” If five cars a day rolled past the Paradise Valley Ranch, he’d be surprised. There was a lot to be said for country living.

Like no idiot drivers.

Traffic piled up on the stretch leading to the airport, and he spent half an hour doing the start/stop thing. By the time he reached the terminal, he was grinding his teeth. Eager to collect Ryan Hunter and get out, he parked in a no parking zone. Sure, he’d get a ticket but he was willing to pay a few extra bucks for convenience.

Although going forward he’d have less cash from splitting his wages with the hand, but it was worth it.

The inside of the terminal was wall to wall people. Announcements blared. Apparently several flights were grounded because of storms. Kade wove through the crush, past couples wearing vacation clothing and fractious toddlers throwing tantrums. He winked at a pretty young woman in cowgirl boots way too shiny to be more than a fashion statement.

She smiled back and dropped her gaze with a bashfulness that could grow on him. Too bad she wasn’t in Vixen or even one of the cities two hours away. He could make a trip for a pair of brown eyes like hers.

Quite a few people wore cowboy hats, and any could be Ryan Hunter. Kade glanced from face to face, he tried to match the name with features.

A little gal bounced up to him, wearing a hat that had taken quite a beating and boots that matched. Kade sucked in a breath as he looked at her—really looked at her.

Dark red hair framed her face and warm brown eyes peered from under her brim. His mind blanked as he let his gaze skip over her trim body. Curvy thighs in skin-tight jeans, a dipping waist made for grabbing. And her breasts…high and perky beneath a western shirt.

Now that was a woman to bring home.

He blinked when she continued to stand there. Not knowing how to react, he looked over her head at the crowd, searching for Ryan Hunter.

A small hand waved before his eyes. He snapped his attention to the cowgirl who stood a head shorter than he did.

“Can I help you, miss?” God, she had golden brown freckles across the bridge of her pert nose.

“You’re my ride.”

The air whooshed from his lungs as if he’d been kicked by a two-thousand-pound steer. Staring into her eyes, he fought to make sense of what she’d said. She was speaking English but…

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re from the Paradise Valley Ranch. What’s your name?”

Confusion bit him hard enough that he shook himself. “Kade Dalton,” he said absently. “How did you know where I’m from?”

She pointed at his groin. No, his waist. Hellfire, he couldn’t breathe if he wanted to. Against his will, his gaze dropped to her breasts and thoughts of learning the curves of each.

She waved in front of his face again, and he felt his ears redden. She’d caught him staring at her breasts. “I recognize your brand on your belt buckle.”

Oh yeah. All the men on the ranch wore the silver oval with the steer horns symbol along with the ranch’s name in small letters.

“When do I get one of those buckles, Dalton?”

His brows knitted together. “What?” She may be pretty, but she was batshit crazy. Who the hell—

Realization struck him. “Who’re you?” he demanded.

Her eyes wore wary resignation. Still, she stuck out her hand to shake with all the confidence of a crusty old cowboy. “Ryan Hunter. Your new hand.”

He felt his eyes start to roll back in his head but halted their movement. His momma had taught him not to be rude, but this was a hell of a test. Damn Hank. Had his brother known he was sticking Kade with a sweet little redheaded cowgirl who probably knew more about colicky children than colic in horses?

He bit off a growl of irritation. “
You’re
the ranch hand?”

“Yes, I’m Ryan Hunter.” She settled a hand on her hip, which was thrust out, exaggerating her curves. Kade’s body stood up and took notice. Yessiree, his deprived system was all too aware of this little beauty.

Who happens to be my employee.

So much for the camaraderie he’d hoped for at the bar on Friday night. He wasn’t going anywhere with her.

“But you can’t be the new hand. You’re…” He let his gaze skate over curves so wicked a man would suffer whiplash.

“A hardworking, kick-ass cowgirl who specializes in the very beef cattle you work on your ranch?” Golden sparks lit in her eyes, which were the color of dark honey. He fought a wild craving for something sweet and fixed his sights on the problem at hand.

Such as
he
was a
she
.

“You’re mighty small to be working with beef cattle.”

She cocked her head and a red lock skittered across her collarbone. Kade followed its path. She made that irritating waving motion, and he snapped his attention to her face again. “A smart cowboy like you oughtta know it’s not the strength behind the cowboy—it’s the power of his reactions and the skill of his rope.”

True. She had his interest piqued.

“Besides, I know all about health, breeding, nutrition, reproduction, selection, marketing and handling.”

She sounded like a walking university brochure for the latest beef cattle business management program. “So you got your smarts from Texas A&M,” he said.

Looking around, he realized the airport was still loud and busy but everyone except Ryan Hunter had faded to the background.

“No, I learned everything I know from my daddy.”

Ah. She was a spoiled rancher’s daughter out to prove her worth. Probably a whim until she found Mr. Deep Pockets who would put her on his big ranch and take care of her.

Kade hooked a thumb in his pocket. “Look, I don’t want to insult you.”

“You are right now.” Her sassy tone infused him with heat—and every hint of it was too low in his body to be called his stomach.

“We bust our asses on our ranch, lady, and I’m not sure you’re cut out—”

“What I am is a damn good cowboy.”

“Cowgirl,” he corrected, aware of the obvious. Oh yes, very aware.

She waved a hand again, and his irritation swelled—or was that another body part? He shook himself. He’d definitely been without a female for too long.

She pushed out a sigh, picked up her suitcase and started walking away—striding quickly for the exit. He watched for a second, noting the lines of her calves and how the shafts of her boots gapped enough to fit his index finger in and feel the roundness of her muscle.

He bolted into action and caught up to her quickly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find your truck.”

“You don’t know what it looks like.”

“I didn’t know what you looked like either, yet I still found you.” She whirled on him, eyes seeming to swim with sparks of gold and amber. “Your family is expecting me. Depending on me to show up. Do you need help or not?” When she placed her hands on her delectable hips, he choked off a groan.

What was he to do with her? Hank had obviously believed Ryan Hunter suited their situation, woman or not. Kade eyed her. She eyed him right back.

Pushing out a sigh, he said, “Fine. Follow me.” He strode through the exit into the oppressive humidity of Texas—in time to see the flashing lights of the airport police near his truck.

* * * * *

Ryan could barely contain her cackle of laughter when Kade got a pricey fine for parking his jalopy in a forbidden zone. With a scowl the size of Texas, he pocketed the ticket. Then he made a grab for her suitcase.

She held onto the handle. “I got it.”

“I’m going to put it in the back.”

“I got it,” she insisted.

With narrowed eyes, he watched her toss her luggage into the bed of his truck. As he got behind the wheel, she had a glimpse of his strong back and tense shoulders. When he yanked his leg inside, it was impossible not to notice the denim-clad bulge of thigh muscle.

She circled the truck and got into the passenger seat. “Nice truck. ’82?”

He shot her a look. Not any look—
the look.
The one most men rewarded her with when she’d one-upped them with her knowledge. “Yeah, I know a little about trucks. Also tractors and most ATVs, though some of the new ones have electrical systems I haven’t figured out yet.”

“Well, most of our equipment is old.”

“Good. I won’t have a problem then.” She wiggled her back against the old vinyl seat and fastened her seatbelt. He started the truck and shot into traffic, guiding them between an SUV and a small car. “You’re not totally a country boy, are you?”

His hands flexed on the steering wheel. Long, tapered fingers, tanned by the sun. Black hairs spattered the backs and his right hand bore a few healing cuts. “I’m all country. But I’m not a boy.”

No, he was definitely a man. Six feet of strong, muscled cowboy with dark hair and blazing blue eyes. She’d seen his type before, though. By the way he’d been distracted by her breasts, she gave him twenty-four hours before the good manners his momma had tried to drill into him flew out the window and he hit on her.