Lone Star Bride. Carolyn Davidson
us problems, we can rely on the horses to take up the slack. We had a big storm a few years ago in February, snowed us in for three days, and all the time we had cows calving out in the back forty. Lost twelve of our heifers and most of their calves. We’d just as soon not see that happen again. Winter storms can be disasters for us.”
“Why hadn’t you brought the cows in closer to the barn, knowing they were at risk?” Jamie asked, his words a blunt criticism of Hank’s actions.
“The storm hit before we were prepared for it. It had been warming up right well for a couple of weeks, and no one looked for snow, least of all me.”
“Maybe we’ll bring the pregnant cows in close next winter and keep them within sight. I’d hate to see that sort of thing happen again,” Jamie said firmly.
“You’re right,” Hank told him. “In fact, I’m beginning to think you’ll be good for the Clark ranch. You’re young and you’re bound to have fresh ideas.”
“That’s another thing. We’re gonna change the name of the ranch,” Jamie told him. “Until I get other instructions from Brace Caulfield, we’ll call this place the Double C. I’d like to see a sign put together and hung down at the county road. What do you think?”
“Clark and Caulfield, huh? Sounds all right to me.”
“Who can make a sign? A big one on a slab of hardwood,” Jamie asked.
Chet spoke up quickly. “That would be Woody, and you get one guess why we call him that.” His chuckle was short and he underlined his words. “The man is a whiz with anything to do with building stuff or working with wood. He’s been around for years, and the big house has a bunch of his furniture inside. Take a look at the tables in the parlor, Webster,” he said, his pride audible, as if he were, in some way, responsible for Woody’s reputation.
“I’ll do that.” Jamie looked around, back toward the barn. “Where is he now?”
“Working on new mangers for the standing stalls,” Chet told him. “We went over the barn pretty good, and Woody said they needed to be replaced. And what Woody says, goes, as far as fixin’ up the barn is concerned.”
“Sounds like a handy fella to have around.” Jamie said, thinking he’d like to meet this paragon of woodworking today.
“You’ll find out,” Chet told him flatly. “We all depend on Woody.”
Jamie turned his mount in a tight circle and headed back to the barn. “I’ll take a look here before we go any farther afield,” he told Hank. The stallion he’d chosen to ride was skittish, but Jamie held him in with a firm hand, and, once he’d dismounted, led him into the barn, seeking the man in question.
The sound of a hammer drew him down the aisle and toward the farthest stall. A big man, easily six inches or so past six feet tall, backed into the aisle ahead of him and turned to face Jamie.
“You must be Woody,” Jamie said. “I’ve been hearing about you.”
“Well, don’t believe everything you hear,” the big man said. “I don’t make magic with my saw and hammer. In fact, I just do what I enjoy most, and the boss thinks I’m a wonder child.”
“If the interior of this barn is a tribute to your skill, I’d have to agree with him,” Jamie said, surveying the well-built stalls. “Can you work as well with the livestock as you do with wood?”
“You better believe it,” Woody said. “I was raised on a horse by my pa. Been herding cattle for twenty years or so.”
Jamie stuck out his hand. “I think we’ll get along just fine, Woody.” In a few words, Jamie told the man what he wanted, measuring the length and width of the sign he had in mind with outstretched arms, and Woody only nodded agreeably. “Does that sound like something you can put together in a few days?” Jamie asked.
“Send Miss Alex out to print the letters you want on the sign, so I can chip them out and paint them black, and I’ll have it done by tonight.”
“Alexis?” Jamie was surprised by the request.
“Yeah, I don’t read or write real good and she’s always a good one to lend a hand.”
“I’ll ask her, then.”
“Ask me what?” From behind him, the woman’s voice spoke a challenge and Jamie turned to her.
“Will you give Woody a hand with a sign he’s about to make for the ranch?”
“He knows I will,” she said, shooting a wide smile in the ranch hand’s direction.
Woody was a bit old for her, but she obviously enjoyed practicing her feminine wiles on any handy male. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jamie said, leading his horse past the girl and out the door. She turned as he passed her by, and he was struck again by her eyes, which seemed as bright as the new leaves on a maple tree in the spring.
“Anybody ever tell you you’ve got eyes that could tempt a man to lose his head?” he asked her quietly, lest Woody hear him. It was bad enough he was flirting with the girl, but to let someone else be privy to his words was not quite the thing, he thought.
And as if she had heard such a flattering query on a daily basis, Alexis only nodded. “Among other things I’ve been told,” she said, “such as hair like sunshine and a face likely to draw men like flies. I’m not impressed.”
He’d never been scorned quite so readily, Jamie thought, and yet it made the pursuit all the sweeter, knowing he had to overcome the girl’s distrust of him and the male sex in general. At least that was the message he’d gotten from her remarks.
“I wasn’t trying to impress you,” he told her with a grin, “merely stating a fact.”
“It takes more than a smart remark about my green eyes to make me sit up and take notice of a man. I’m not much on men, and certainly cowhands aren’t my first choice as suitors.”
“Who said I was aiming to be a suitor? I had more in mind a few minutes in the moonlight or on the back porch, rocking the swing back and forth.”
“A few minutes in the moonlight? I don’t think so. I’m particular about who I spend my time with, and my nighttime hours are spent in the house.”
“Your pa watches over you pretty closely, I’ll bet,” Jamie said. “I could relieve him of the chore a couple of evenings a week. Maybe I’ll approach him and see what he thinks of the idea.”
“I think you’d better keep your ideas to yourself, and leave me alone. I’m not in the market for a man.”
Jamie tipped his hat and walked on, circling his horse and then springing into the saddle with an easy movement. “We’ll see,” he said, tipping his hat and offering a small salute in her direction.
Her mouth was drawn into a prim line and he was sorely tempted to pick her up and sling her across his saddle. His mouth twitched as he thought of kissing her into submission. She offered a challenge, and he was never one to turn his back on such a thing. Yet, making his way here with care was important. He couldn’t do anything to cause Brace’s temper to flare in his direction no matter how tempting the woman was.
This job was made for a man like James Webster, working with cows, horses and a handful of cowhands who were already in place and doing a good job. A woman could not be allowed to gain his attention to the extent that he neglected his duties here.
No matter that she was pretty. No, make that lovely, for her golden hair and tempting form were enough to bring James, or any man, he decided promptly, to attention. Features that might grace a statue formed her face, a trim nose, wide eyes that made his gaze veer back to her again, not to mention her lithe and lissome body that filled out the shirt and trousers she wore in an elegant fashion.
He felt an urge to lay his hands on her, and he turned aside, dousing it firmly. She was marriage material