Tucker's Crossing. Marina Adair
was about three miles east of the ranch when he crested the hill and saw a sight for sore eyes. Steers. Hundreds of head of cattle dotted the valley below, chewing the grass and fighting over the sparse shade.
It was barely eight and the temperature was already threatening to suffocate him. The heat wave that had moved in and dried up their entire county hadn’t broken, and it wasn’t expected to any time soon. So why were the cows holing up here when there weren’t more than eight trees in sight? Not to mention a serious lack of water.
When Cody was a kid, this was where they would hold their breeding stock to keep it separate from the beeves they were preparing for transport and auction. It was way too early in the season for that. So why were they here?
Cody kicked Goliath into action and made good time getting down onto the valley floor. Something just didn’t sit right with him. Cows might not be the brightest of animals, but they had strong survival instincts. The only way they’d stay there was if—
“What the hell!” Cody yanked on the reins, forcing his horse to stop inches from a barbed-wire fence. The metal coils that ran a good quarter mile in each direction should have stopped a few hundred yards to the right, but the area was completely enclosed.
Sliding off the saddle, Cody hitched Goliath to the fence and checked out the gate. It wasn’t locked, but secured tight enough to make the cows think they were closed in. Tight enough that he couldn’t get the damn thing to budge. A closer inspection showed that the gate had fallen off its lower hinge, cementing the post into the packed dirt. Talk about bad luck.
Wishing he’d taken Sam up on his offer for some company, Cody unbuttoned and hung his shirt on the fence and—thank God he’d been smart enough to at least put on jeans and boots this morning—sank to his knees. He started digging up the ground around the post. The sun beat down hard and Cody felt the scrape of soil and rock against his hand. It felt good to get elbow deep in something other than memos and briefs.
Finally, enough of the soil was removed. Cody straightened, lifted, and gave the fence another forceful yank. The metal groaned as he worked it through the ground. When the steel bars cut into his palms, he kicked himself for not packing gloves in his saddlebag.
Christ, he’d been kicking himself ever since yesterday. What the hell had he started? At a time in his life when he really needed to focus, in the one place in the world where he always fought for control, the universe had decided to flip him the finger and toss Shelby Lynn into the mix.
But how could he have gone and kissed her like that? Cody wiped the sweat off his brow and nearly laughed out loud. How could he not?
One look at her in that dress, her silky hair tumbling in dark waves down the middle of her back, bare feet and scrubbed-fresh face, and he’d been tossed back to a time when he thought he stood a chance at happiness. And then he remembered why he’d come back to Sweet Plains and his only thought was that she had to leave.
Cody lifted, his legs straining under the weight of the fence, and pulled, gaining another few feet.
When her small hand had grabbed his arm, begging him not to go, he was instantly lost in those limpid eyes . . . those nipples pouting prettily under that thin dress. Her scent was everywhere, and he just reacted—pure instinct.
And when their lips had touched, she’d practically crawled up his chest. It reminded him of just how good they’d been together. In that short space in time, all the pent-up feelings about coming home fled, and all he felt was her.
Cody grunted through the last few feet and watched as a few cows wandered on over. He was going to be sore as hell tomorrow, but he knew it would be the good kind of sore.
Weighing his options made him realize just what a damn city boy he’d become. He didn’t have his dogs or men so he couldn’t round up the cattle. But they needed to get to a better pasture. Dammit. He’d have to come back for that. In the meantime, he hoped their instincts would force them to get curious, go in search of water.
Dusting off his hands, and putting his shirt back on, he took a long swig of his water and grimaced. It was hot and thick going down, but he needed the hydration. Another long swig and he mounted Goliath, wanting to get out of the heat fast, but careful not to overheat his horse. By the time they made it to the barn, he was slick with sweat and his body ached.
Man, he still couldn’t believe he’d practically had sex with Shelby Lynn right there on the counter.
That’s why he’d been bucked sideways when Jacob came in. The Shelby he knew would never have kept something so important, like the fact that they had a son together, from him. No matter how they’d ended things.
Guess you didn’t know her all that well then, did ya?
Even thinking about Jacob—about Shelby’s silence, and the whole screwed-up situation—made his stomach burn with anger.
Kicking at the gravel, Cody set off toward the line of ranch hands assembled in the yard, wishing he had time for a cold shower. Circling the barn, he followed the worn fence toward a group of men who looked as shell-shocked as he’d felt yesterday.
Time to get to it, he thought grimly.
Several dozen cowboys stood by the barn doors, shooting the breeze and doing their best to look casual. But the sudden silence that descended the moment Cody came into view told him differently.
Stopping to address the group, which now looked like they were expecting a firing squad, he reminded himself that this was what he’d come here to do, the course of action he and his brother, Noah, had decided upon.
Cody scanned the crowd and sighed. Ms. Luella wasn’t there, even though he’d made it clear that every ranch employee was to be present. Not that he was surprised the stubborn housekeeper had decided she’d face him when she was good and ready. It just meant that he’d have to talk to her one-on-one. Not something he was looking forward to.
“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. As y’all know, my brothers and I recently inherited Tucker’s Crossing. That said, the ranch has been operating in the red the past couple years, so until we can rectify that situation and start turning a profit, we’ll be making some changes.”
Grumblings, some concerned, most offensive, shot up from the men. Man, he hated doing this. Most of these men were good cowboys, had families counting on them.
But then, so did he.
“The only way to deal with this is based on history. Would those of you who came on after my brothers and I left Tucker’s Crossing please take a step forward.”
More protests sounded about fairness and work ethic, most bookended by cursing. One by one, the new guys took a hesitant step forward, their faces expressing exactly what they thought of the selection process. The older guys, the ones with years of dedication to the ranch and job seniority, wore smug looks of satisfaction.
Cursing himself for not wearing a hat, Cody shielded his eyes from the sun. There in the rear of the crowd, hiding behind a tractor, was a halo of silver and black that could only belong to one Ms. Luella Puckett. She had positioned herself strategically so she could snoop on every word said, but go unseen by most people there.
Suppressing the urge to shout out “Howdy” and watch Ms. Luella scramble, Cody eyed all of the unfamiliar faces standing in the front row and gave them a brief nod. “It’s nice to meet you all. My name’s Cody and I want to welcome you to stay on here. The rest of you, in the back row, you’re dismissed.” Ignoring the stunned gasps and confused faces, Cody added, “You can pick up your final checks tonight.”
“This some kind of joke, son?” said Hal, a guy Cody used to help pack hay when he was a kid. Obviously, he thought there was some kind of misunderstanding.
“No joke, Hal. Like I said, you’re all dismissed and can pick up your checks on your way out. I want you gone by nightfall.”
“Wait just a minute,” Sam Holden barked.
Sam, coppered and weathered with