Destiny Wears Spurs (4 page)

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Authors: Kari Lee Harmon

BOOK: Destiny Wears Spurs
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His throat went dry. How could she make him want to strangle her and kiss her senseless at the same time? Squeezing his eyes shut, he swallowed with difficulty and tried to compose himself. “Yes, ma’am, you are.”

The barn hummed with silent anticipation. Most likely his men were stunned this slip of a woman had the brass to stand up to him. He couldn’t believe it, either.

“No. I’m not. Dream man, or not, you have no right treating me this way. I have permission to be here, and no one’s going to tell me otherwise.” Still holding on tight, she poked a finger in the middle of his back, punctuating each word.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Never mind. The point is I’m not leaving.”

The lady didn’t make a lick of sense, but he was desperate. He’d scare her back with the other dudes if he had to. Reaching behind him, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and tugged it free of his jeans. He kept their fingers locked as he twisted around and stood in his most intimidating stance. Boots spread wide apart, he towered over her, scowling.

Nope, that didn’t work, either. She didn’t look at his face but stared wide-eyed at their joined hands. His gut clenched. His heart thudded in his chest. He cursed under his breath and let go, hooking his thumbs in his front pockets. She tossed her wild curls, making him itch to touch her hair, and then she stared him down with big dark eyes.

She’d be the death of him yet. “Look, lady. I didn’t give you permission to be here.” He gared at her.

“Oooh, you’re a stubborn one.” She glared right back and scuffed her ... purple boot? What the hell had the world come to? He shook his head, but then she drilled him with a determined gaze and hammered more words at him. “Anyway, I don’t need your permission. I have his.”

She graced Hank with an adorable smile that sent a burr up Cody’s spine. He balled his fists and clamped his jaw, grinding his teeth.

“Hey, I didn’t say a word.” Hank lifted his hands.

“His permission doesn’t count,” Cody responded. “I’m the boss, and the only stranger I’m looking for is a greenhorn yahoo named Mo.” No way would he give this woman permission to be here for even a day.

“You’re the boss?” She blinked. “Well, I resent ‘greenhorn yahoo’.”
“Why do you care what I call some guy?”
Muffled chuckling interrupted the heated conversation.
“Jake, you’d best let me in on the joke,” Cody ground out, never breaking eye contact with the woman.

Jake stepped forward, looking as though he were struggling not to smile. “Let me introduce you. Miss Hammond meet Cody Rafferty, the boss. Boss meet Monica Hammond, better known as Mo--the greenhorn yahoo yer waitin’ for.”

Cody ran a hand down his face. Hammond’s child was a woman? Unbelievable. Her lips parted, and awareness filled her eyes as she looked from him to Hank and back. Cody watched her blush to the roots of her red-brown hair. He leveled a warning look at Hank and then pinched the bridge of his nose. A dull pain began to pulse behind his brow.

“Look, I barely agreed to have a man who doesn’t know squat about ranching work with me. No way am I letting a woman who knows even less and probably couldn’t lift a hay bale to save her life. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“Last time I checked, you had a sister who worked with you.” She shot him a smug smile.

“That’s different. Cassie was born and raised here.” He scanned her petite frame. “You couldn’t lift a rake much less use it to clean out the stalls.”

“I’ll have you know I ran The Boston Marathon. Twice! I’m stronger than you think, Mr. Rafferty. Besides, you did make a deal to give my company a chance. I expect you to keep it.”

Why’d he have to go and give his word? Cody sighed, defeated. Any man worth a grain of salt kept his promises, no matter what. “Fine, Miss Hammond. I agreed to give you a shot, but remember. If I don’t like your proposal, I don’t have to use your agency.”

He pierced Jake with a hard look. “I wanna see you in my office.” Then he glanced at his stable hand. “Bobby, we’re mending fence today. Saddle Snoozer for Miss Hammond.” He looked her square in the eye. “Be ready in ten minutes.”

The blood drained from her face at the mention of Snoozer. Great. She was probably terrified of horses. He’d bet she’d never even seen one much less ridden one. This was never going to work. He may not be able to fire her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make her stay here miserable. He hoped like hell she’d quit and save him the headache.

Damn stubborn woman raised her chin to a haughty angle. “Snoozer will be fine. Lead the way, Bobby.” Taking a big breath, she followed the boy out.

Cody shook his head, accompanying Jake into his office. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Ten minutes later, he found out.

Cody and Jake led their horses out to the corral. Cody couldn’t help gaping at the sight before him. Snoozer stood at the far side of the corral, snuffling the dirt. Monica hovered nearby. It was obvious the horse had read her body language loud and clear.

“What in tarnation is she doing?” Jake asked.

“Not sure,” Rusty added, chewing on a piece of straw.

“From all the hopping around she’s been doing, I think she’s trying to mount Snoozer, but I’ve never seen anyone try it that way before.” Hank wore an amused look.

“Well, I’ll be.” Jake scratched his balding head. “Who in blazes taught her how to ride?”

Cody lifted a shoulder. “No one, by the look of it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to tell a horse’s head from its hind end.” He took a step in her direction, intending to help her before she hurt herself or his horse.

She tried to lead the mare to the fence, but the mare wouldn’t budge. Dropping the reins, the darned woman walked over to the fence and climbed to the top, reaching out her hand toward the mare. Not even close. She stuck out her leg but barely touched the horse’s side.

She wouldn’t, would she? He lengthened his steps as she glanced up at him, pursed her lips, and ... leapt off the goddamn fence onto Snoozer’s back.

“No,” he yelled, but he was too late. At least she landed right in the saddle, though how the hell that happened was a miracle if you asked him.

Snoozer bolted for the barn through the open corral gate.

“Ack-ack-ack-ack-aaack,” Monica squawked like a hen, her eyes wide with fright, and her arms flapping at her sides.

How could anyone forget to hold the reins? Shoot, she probably didn’t even know what “reins” were. With every stride of the mare’s legs, the woman bounced hard. Her thighs slapped against the horse’s sides, spurring Snoozer on. Crazy lady hadn’t even put her boots in the stirrups.

She managed somehow to stay planted in the saddle, looking like an out-of-control chicken doing jumping jacks on the back of a wild bronco. Cody stood in the mare’s path and raised his arms, calling out in a soothing tone. The frantic mare came to a jarring stop.

Monica flipped over Snoozer’s head and landed in his arms, almost knocking him off his feet. Snoozer spooked once again, but Bobby caught her. He led her into the barn to take her tack off and put her away.

Cody regained his balance and held Monica close as he strove to assume a neutral expression, but the frantic beat of his heart kept pace with hers. When his breathing finally slowed, he peered deep into her eyes and became lost in those warm, melted-chocolate depths.

The world around him faded, and she stared back with parted lips. His foreman cleared his throat, and reality came flooding back on a tidal wave, drenching Cody with awareness. He jerked away like a piece of hot coal, setting her firmly on her feet.

He’d had every intention of showing her how to mount the mare, but he never imagined she’d have enough grit to pull a dangerous stunt like that. He clenched his jaw. “What were you trying to do, fly?”

“I wasn’t
trying
to do anything. I was riding Snoozer. If I’m going to come up with a proper ad, I need to experience all aspects of being on a ranch. Like riding.”

“Is that what that was?” He forced the words out through his teeth. “Looked more like a good way to get yourself killed. If I ever catch you doing something so dangerous again, you’ll wish you never laid eyes on me. Do I make myself clear, Miss Hammond?”

“Perfectly. I liked you much better when I thought you were a dream,” she yelled back.

“Yeah? Well, I liked you much better when I thought you were a man, not some skinny twig that will snap in two with the first strong wind.”

“I ... am ... not ... weak,” she shouted and kicked the dirt with the toe of her ridiculous boot.
“Not weak? Ha.” He stared at her nose and arched a brow.
“Listen, I’m good at what I do. You’ll get the best campaign of anyone within a hundred miles, okay?”

Cody couldn’t imagine what goofy slogan she’d come up with. He could see why Hammond had someone else in mind to run his company. Turning his back on her, he mumbled, “Crazy woman makes about as much sense as balls on a heifer.”

He snagged the reins of his horse and swung into the saddle. Her eyes grew huge, and she stared at his massive stallion like she’d sooner eat a horny toad than ask him for a ride. He swallowed a chuckle, waiting to see what she’d do.

“Would you mind giving me a ride, Hank?” she asked.

Here was the distance Cody needed. Hank’s devilish grin broadened.
Well, hell
. Hank had gotten himself into big trouble with women. Cody felt obligated to ward off a disaster before it happened. That was the only reason he yelled, “She’s ridin’ with me.” In a lightning-quick move, he snatched her up before him, daring anyone to say otherwise.

No one said a word. Satisfied, Cody hollered, “Move out.”

She barely grabbed onto the pommel before he exited the barnyard at the bounciest jog he could manage and then moved onto a full gallop once he hit the road.

She wanted a ride? He’d give her one she’d never forget.

CHAPTER THREE

 

As the morning wore on, Monica sat on the outskirts of the pasture under a shady aspen. Smelling the wildflowers. Listening to the chirps of birds. Playing with the lush green blades of grass.

Watching Cody.

After bolting out of the barn at an insane speed, he’d cursed softly and had quickly slowed his beast, making her wonder if there was more to him than she’d originally thought. Even so, sitting on the sidelines wasn’t part of the deal.

Attempting to find a more comfortable position, she squirmed on the hard ground. Glancing at the notes she’d scribbled, she frowned. When had she done that? A detailed sketch of Cody’s face stared back at her, right down to the slight cleft in his chin. She dropped her cheek into her hand but couldn’t look away.

This was going to be one long summer.

Monica had told Cody he would get the best campaign proposal in the county, but she wasn’t so sure she could pull that off. Her contributions to any ad campaign had always been in the form of a picture or cover art. But only after someone else had come up with the slogan and concept.

She just put their ideas in the form of a picture. That was the easy part. Coming up with short, concise, and fun words to go with those ideas, well, that she just couldn’t do.

Her father had overlooked that for years, hoping she’d get better, but when he realized she wouldn’t, he’d focused his attention on his golden boy. Wendell had been all too happy to take over, and for a while, Monica had been too. Until she’d discovered he was the one out to destroy her father. The only way she could stop him was by stepping it up a notch and coming up with something great on her own.

When the men broke for lunch, she set her sketchpad aside and rose to her feet. Dusting off her jeans, she walked toward them. “Mind if I join you?” She pasted on her biggest, brightest smile.

“Why, we’d be honored, Mo.” Jake snatched off his hat.
“Who wouldn’t be?” Hank grinned.
Cody shot Hank a glare and then stared at her. “Suit yourself.”

Rusty sat in the shade of a pine tree, eating his lunch, watching them. Hank grabbed a sandwich and water, swaggering over to join him. Jake took his share and followed.

“Help yourself, Mo. Cookie packed us lunch, but you won’t find anything sweet. He don’t bake. Shoot, he don’t do much of anything, but it’ll fill your belly.” The foreman turned around, grumbling under his breath, “Why, my Izzy can cook the pants off that old varmint. She--”

“Thanks, Jake,” Monica interrupted, having already gauged the old man would go off on twenty-minute tangents at the least sign of a listener. She reached into his saddlebags and pulled out her lunch. Anything the cattle ranch cook had prepared would hit the spot.

Cody sat alone in the blazing sun, resting his back against a wooden fence post. What a picture. She actually thought that might make for some good cover art. Now, to find the right words. Maybe the cowboy himself could inspire her.

Hank motioned for her to join them over by the tree, but she pretended not to see. Obviously, Cody didn’t want any company. Too bad. This might be her only chance to talk to him. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and walked in his direction, stopping in front of him.

Yippikiay, cowboy, you’re gonna love this
. “Come don some leather and get ready to ride; your stallion awaits.”

She plopped down in front of his boots and crossed her legs like a pretzel. Unless he turned his head to the side, he had no choice but to look at her. And look at her he did, like she’d sprouted a monstrous wart on the end of her nose.

“Your stallion?” he finally got out.

“You know, your stallion. I mean, not
your
stallion,” she glanced at his lap and could have kicked herself, yanking her eyes back up to his, “but your
stallion
.” She refused to look away, no matter how much she wanted to. So much for wowing him with the perfect slogan right off the bat. “Never mind. Just brainstorming.”

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