To Court A Cowgirl. Jeannie Watt
his jaw muscles aching, he got into his truck and drove to the grocery store, only to discover that they didn’t carry Wildland food. He had to go to Culver Ranch and Feed. Fine. He started back to his truck, stopping abruptly to let a car pass in front of him. He recognized the driver in an instant, even raised a hand, but Allie Brody looked through him as if he didn’t exist.
And for some reason, that pissed him off even further.
He marched to his truck and took off for the feed store, wondering if he could fit in another run that day to take off some of the stress. At the light, he caught up with Allie’s car. He saw her glance up at him in her rearview mirror before fixing her gaze forward again. She turned the corner, drove another mile, then turned into Culver Ranch and Feed.
Good. He had a word or two for Allie.
The lot was almost empty, but he purposely parked right beside her. She got out of the car and walked into the store. He followed, stopping just inside the door to get his bearings.
“Can I help you?” the lady behind the counter called as he caught sight of Allie to his left, tacking something to the bulletin board.
“No thanks,” he said. Allie’s head came up at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t move away from the board. He closed the distance between them, stopping a few feet in front of her. “Have I done something to offend you?”
Allie met his gaze dead-on, her expression cool as she said, “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know...maybe the way you practically ran over my feet at the Food Mart parking lot and the way you’re looking at me now.”
“I didn’t practically run over your feet and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the way I’m looking at you.”
“Right,” he said flatly.
She gave an impatient snort. “Maybe you need to understand that not everyone is a fan.”
“Hey,” he said, taking a step closer and feeling a touch of satisfaction when her blue eyes widened an iota—not as if she were threatened, but instead as if she were suddenly aware that he was going to continue the conversation instead of accepting the brush-off. “I don’t deserve that. I never asked you to be a fan. I asked if I’d offended you.”
She folded her arms and seemed to consider his question for a moment. “Let me put it this way. You’re the second rich guy who’s tried to buy my ranch. I resent people traipsing to my front door, offering cash and assuming we’re going to fall all over ourselves to sell our family heritage.”
“Who was the other guy?”
Allie’s gaze shifted and then she said, “None of your business.”
“Is this because of Ray Largent? Because for the record, I had no idea that Ray was your ex-father-in-law. I came because I heard the ranch had once been for sale. End of story.”
“It wasn’t entirely your connection to Ray that put me off.”
“Then what?”
She sucked in a breath, her expression bordering on stubborn as she obviously fought to find a reason for her animosity. “Maybe it’s because things are easy for you. So easy that you can simply point to what you want and pull out your wallet.”
“What?”
She was starting to get warmed up. She pointed a finger at him. “Even in high school, whatever you wanted, you pretty much got.”
He looked at her incredulously. “This isn’t about that freaking scholarship, is it?”
“No,” she muttered. “Although I could have used that money. You had money.”
“Sounds like it’s about the scholarship.”
She rolled her eyes as if he were dense. “No. It’s about privilege and general principles. About paying dues.” She unfolded her arms and took a few steps closer so that they were now only inches apart, so close that he could smell her light floral perfume. “What hasn’t come easily to you, Jason?”
“My career. I worked my ass off for that.”
“How about off field, where most people live their lives?” She nodded at his tricked-out truck, clearly visible through the front windows of the store. “Did you have to save for a down payment?”
“You resent that I make money?”
“Playing a game. A lot of us have to scramble to get by and you got paid a huge amount of money to play a game.”
“You’re pretty damned judgmental.”
“I know, but it doesn’t change facts. Some of us have to work for what we get—at a real job—and others get things because of who they are. Or were. Well, guess what? You aren’t getting my ranch.”
“Guess what? I don’t want your ranch.”
“Good.” She smiled tightly at him and when he gave no response, she pushed by him and headed for the door.
Jason let out a breath and ran a hand over the side of his head. The lady behind the counter sent him an odd look and he turned to face the bulletin board. There in front of him was the notice Allie had tacked up.
Wanted: handyman to tear down building, remove debris.
Without a second thought Jason pulled the advertisement off the board, crumpled it up and jammed it into his pocket.
ALLIE COULDN’T PUSH the feed-store face-off with Jason Hudson out of her brain, even though she gave it a mighty try. She was not normally confrontational. She left that for Dani and Jolie. She was more of the peacemaker, a retreat-into-the-background kind of person. But today she’d been part of a spectacle in the ranch store. Like it or not, Jason triggered her temper. And she had to face that sad fact that she did harbor resentment against the guy. Why? Because his family was wealthy? Because he’d gotten what she wanted? Because he’d tried to buy the ranch by nonchalantly walking up to her door with more cash at his disposal than she’d ever seen?
The phone rang as she finished washing her few dishes and she practically pounced on it when she saw Mel’s number on the display. Her second sister and her husband lived on a remote New Mexico ranch and rarely called unless they were in town, where they got decent phone reception.
“Hey,” she said without waiting for a hello. “Back in civilization?”
“Hi, Allie.”
She sat up straighter at the sound of her brother-in-law KC’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Mel. She’s okay, but she had a bad run-in with a mama cow. Put her over the fence and she broke an ankle, bruised her ribs when she fell on the other side.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Allie pressed a hand to her chest.
“Damned Charolais,” KC muttered. “I told my boss we needed to let a few of these meaner cows go. Maybe he’ll listen to me now.”
“When can I talk to Mel?”
“I’ll have her call you later. She’s a little loopy on the pain meds right now and worried about not doing her part during calving.”
“But she’s okay?” Allie asked, needing to hear it one more time.
“She’s fine.” But she could hear the stress in KC’s voice. “But that’s the last time she’s checking the cows alone.”
“I’ll add my voice to yours,” Allie said. Even though she was going to do exactly the same thing tonight and every other night for the next several weeks until all of the Lightning Creek calves hit the ground. Their cows were Angus, and all pretty mellow, but a cow with a calf was unpredictable.
“What