Chapter Seven
Rachel
I looked into the mirror as I got ready on day eight of my time at the ranch. I couldn’t believe it had been a whole week! Daniel had made it apparent that he thought I was just another woman who would be impressed and undressed by him, so I made it a point to steer clear of him until he found himself another target.
It was exhausting and frustrating to avoid him, though. Not to mention dreams like the one that had woken me up well before sunrise that morning – one with his broad, muscled chest bent over me while my legs wrapped around his narrow waist.
Ugh. If I kept thinking that way, I’d never have a moment’s peace, and Pete needed me to tend the most recent mare in labor, Milk Pearl. She was named for her milky-white coloring, and even as a four-year-old, she still had the unique, cream-on-white coat that had made her stand out to the Hargraves when they purchased her at auction.
I tromped into the stable in my rubber boots and led Milk Pearl to the paddock so I could muck out her stall and lay fresh hay for her. While the birthing suite was ready and available, I’d learned that if a mare went into labor and it was going well without intervention, she’d birth in a nice, clean straw bed instead of the sterile birthing suite. It felt good to engage in the menial labor sometimes, and as I shoveled old hay out and laid a new bed down, I went over the rest of my schedule in my head and planned the most efficient route that wouldn’t take me through Daniel’s office.
As it turned out, I needn’t have worried about avoiding him. Just as I finished, sweaty and smelling of horse with manure on my feet, I turned around and there he stood, shaved, showered, and handsome as the devil. My jaw dropped, and I looked down at my clothing, covered in hay dust and little bits of straw that stuck into my skin when I moved. I glared at him, then ignored him while I washed and put away my shovel and the pitchfork I’d been moving straw with.
“Of course, you show up now,” I muttered as I stalked past him, trying to ignore his smug grin. I gingerly removed my freshly-rinsed mucking boots on the veranda mat and shook as much of the dust and bits of horse hair and straw off me before I walked in the house.
“No wonder she likes you better than the rest of us,” he teased as he followed me inside. “You’re the only one who bothers to not track work in with you.” I scoffed and stomped up the stairs.
“Your mother is a darling, and if she likes me more than you, you have only yourself to blame,” I retorted. I looked down over the smooth, carved banister at him. “Did you need me? I just realized…” My voice trailed off at his chuckle.
“I do, but you go ahead and shower. I’ll have lunch brought to us in the office.” He grinned up. “And go ahead and dress up; we’re going off the reservation after we eat.” I wrinkled my nose at him.
“I don’t have dress clothes. What you see is what you get,” I tossed over my shoulder as I resumed my ascent. “But, they’ll be clean, so you best not be complaining.” I heard a bark of masculine laughter as I beat a hasty retreat. It was difficult showering with a plastic bag over my arm and cast, but I managed to even get my hair clean without having to call for help, though the thought crossed my mind at least once while I stood naked under the hot shower.
I found jeans with minimal wear and tear and a nice, sheer, peach button down I could wear over a pink tank. On a whim, I pulled my pretty cowboy boots out of the closet and shoved my feet into them. I tucked my jeans in nice and snug, and took the towel I had wrapped around my wet hair off. I looked in the mirror and realized that he probably didn’t want to wait for me to spend real time on my appearance.
I pulled my wet curls through a ponytail holder and grabbed my trucker hat from the peg behind the door. After quickly applying some mascara, I slipped the hat on and fed the long, curled ponytail through the hole in the back. I glanced in the mirror one last time and called it good enough. At least, part of me thought it was good enough; another part added a pathetic, “I hope,” and a third stomped her independent foot and hollered, “I hope it’s not, so he can move on and leave me alone!”
The last part was a little liar, and I knew it.
In the office downstairs, Hannah or her assistant (all the Hargraves seemed to have assistants) had laid out a lovely spread on the desk, complete with southern sweet tea, club sandwiches made with thick slices of homemade bread, and fresh cut fruit. Daniel was pacing the room and glancing at his watch as he looked out the window and didn’t see me walk in from the shadows of the corridor.
“Good Lord, that’s a lot of food!” I exclaimed.
He jumped at the sudden noise, and I studiously examined the food on the table, so he wouldn’t see me grinning. I took what I gauged to be the smaller of the two servings and sat in a comfortable, wingback chair with my plate in my lap and a tall glass of icy sweet tea at my elbow. Daniel looked me over, and I mentally cringed, waiting for the judgement at my lack of feminine appeal. It was almost worse when he said nothing, grabbed the other plate of food, and sat opposite me.
“You’re moving out of the house today,” he stated abruptly after swallowing his first bite of food. My heart sank. I knew I didn’t belong in the house, but I had enjoyed the family feeling of being a part of everything. I knew he was right. I was just an employee. Hell, I wasn’t even a proper employee; of course I shouldn’t be in the house.
“Of course,” I replied matter-of-factly. “I’m only surprised y’all were so kind to let me stay this long in the first place.” I considered for a moment. “Skipper won’t know what hit him. I haven’t been able to get him away from your mother for more than a minute the past few days,” I confessed, more than a little irritated. “I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me for what happened to him at the hands of those bullies,” I added, more to myself than to Daniel.
“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped, glaring at me as I flinched in my seat. “He won’t leave her side because she has all the food. He loves you. Hell, everybody loves you.” He made a rude noise and huffed at me. “You wanted out of the house, you’re out of the house. But, don’t for a single minute think that anything has changed.” His voice softened. “I need you, Rachel, don’t you forget it.”
I nodded mutely and picked at my food, too embarrassed to enjoy the meal. Daniel watched me as he ate. I couldn’t handle the staring contest, so I watched out the window behind him as Pete walked a young stallion around the front yard and loaded him onto a trailer.
“Is that Bentley being loaded up right now?” I asked, more to break the silence than out of actual curiosity. I hadn’t spent much time with the young stallions of the herd. Pete had put me primarily on birthing-duty, which I understood, since I was the closest thing to a veterinarian on site.
“Um, yeah, sold him to a nice family this week. We’re a little heavy on non-performing stallions right now, it was time to thin the herd a little.”
“No, I totally get it. He sure is pretty, though.” I sighed as he shook his snow white mane in rebellion while Pete coaxed him up the ramp to the trailer.
“Well, I certainly wish we could keep all the pretty things that land up here on the ranch,” Daniel replied. Something in his voice made me glance his way. The look in his eyes made me feel underdressed and unsure of myself. My face got warm under his intense scrutiny, and I forced myself to look away again. Before I realized what was happening, he scooped my unfinished lunch out of my hands and leaned in to me.
His lips were warm and dry when he pressed them against mine, and I opened to him like flower to sunlight. My breathing was shallow and short as he deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth to mine until my lips parted more for him. My tongue flicked over the full softness of his lower lip, and he groaned into my mouth. His fingers gently brushed my cheek before he pulled away.
“God, woman, you get under a man’s skin, you know that?” he said in my ear as I struggled to control my racing heart. I managed a weak laugh in response and looked into his eyes. From as close, his eyes seemed darker, more mysterious than I would have thought possible. His cologne was musky and heady and made it difficult to think about anything other than touching the expanse of muscle under his denim work-shirt.
“I didn’t come here to…get under your skin,” I said. “I just wanted to be the best at what I do. I wanted to be the best at keeping horses like yours healthy and strong and happy.” He backed away and half-sat on the edge of his desk.
“I’m not trying to coerce you, Rachel. I just find you irresistibly different, in all the right ways.” He clasped his hands in his lap and sighed. “But, I don’t think this is just going to go away, either. I’m going to guess that’s why you’ve been avoiding me. Which may be for the best.” He rubbed his hands together and stood. “That’s why I think you’ll agree that moving you into your own space will be good for your sense of privacy.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, Daniel,” I replied with a sigh. “Am I permitted to be torn about what I want? Your family has made me feel so at home, leaving became a distant thought.” I laughed and rubbed my thighs with my palms. “Thank you for thinking of me. No, really!” I asserted when he arched his eyebrows at me. “I’m not thanking you for thinking about me, just for looking out for me.” He smiled and offered his hand to help me to my feet.
“So long as you understand, the two are not mutually exclusive.” I shook my head, but accepted his hand up.
“You are incorrigible,” I stated.
“Why, yes, ma’am, I am,” he replied with a grin. “I most certainly am.
He took me out to the truck and lifted Skipper in after me, telling me that we weren’t going anywhere he wouldn’t be welcome. I let my happy boy lay on the bench seat between us and stroked his long, auburn coat. As I ran my fingers through it, I realized that someone other than me had been brushing him, removing the sticky seed pods I’d been removing from his coat each night before I let him go to bed.
“You okay?” Daniel asked when he saw my faraway look.
“Of course. I was just thinking that I should get your mother something to say thank you. Pete, too. Peacemaker and Skipper have never been so spoiled. I think they may hate getting mommy back full time,” I mused, still rubbing Skipper’s belly. His tongue lolled as he spread out across the bench seat, with his head in my lap and his tail in Daniel’s, hitting him with a rhythmic thwack, thwack, as he wagged it.
To my delight and Daniel’s irritation, the feathery fronds of Skipper’s tail began waving more wildly as the truck was put in drive and he realized he was on a really real car ride. When tail connected with face for the third time, Daniel took action. The breeze whipped at my face as he rolled my window down with the controls on his side, and Skipper was in my lap in a flash, moving so well you could almost forget his casted front leg. Little bits of dog saliva blew back in the window and splashed the side of my face as I glared at Daniel. He covered his smile with one hand, then coughed and patted the middle of the bench seat.
“Why don’t you come on over here and get out of that back-splash.” He chuckled. I snorted, but slid out from under my happy dog and buckled up in the center seat, shoulder to shoulder with Daniel.
“I swear, you will learn how to take ‘no’ for an answer,” I griped as he slung his arm casually over my shoulder. He just laughed out loud and turned up the radio, singing along with Rascal Flatts and smiling like it was the best day ever. It was refreshing and fun, and my chest tightened with happy little tendrils running down to lower things and reminding me that I was very much alone with a ridiculously handsome man – a man I enjoyed kissing as much as I enjoyed horseback riding with and listening to.
I rubbed my sweat-dampened palms on my jeans and tried to relax. The song on the radio changed, and soon, we were both singing, loudly. Skipper jumped at the sound, and I felt the tension give with an almost audible pop. Suddenly, resting with his arm around me, listening to his out-of-tune singing, seemed as natural as our ride through his mustang preserve had been. I leaned into his shoulder with a sigh and reveled in the sensation as he tightened his arm around me.
Either I’d wasted too much time, or the ride was just that short, but we were in Austin before I knew it. Skipper let me clip his leash to his collar and Daniel lifted him down from the cab of the truck right after he set me down. I was standing in front of an interior decorator, “The Design Room.” It had kitschy and country-chic displays in the window and looked like it was a little more expensive than the Ikea I was used to.
Before we could open the door, it swung out and a tall, curvy woman with bleached-blonde hair and a low-cut mini dress ran out from the air-conditioned shop straight into Daniel’s arms. She kissed him noisily on the mouth, and I stifled a laugh of discomfort as he gingerly attempted to extricate himself from her serpentine embrace.
“Rachel, this is my…friend, Sara Abbott,” he introduced us, and I put a hand out for her to shake. She glared balefully at me from his arm and rolled her eyes up to his face, clutching him tighter.
“Baby, you haven’t been returning my texts. Do we need to have another little talk about that?” she chided him in a little girl voice that made me cringe. I fought to keep my face blank and focused on Skipper, who was already beginning to pant in the hot, May sun.
“No, Sara, we don’t need to talk about whether or not I have time for texting out in the hot sun, while Rachel and her poor dog melt,” he retorted. He took Skipper’s leash from my hand and opened the door to the shop, holding it open until I passed through, then handing me the leash and continuing to hold the door for Miss. Abbott. She pushed past me with an affected sigh and sat down at a table with an iPad.
“So, are you here on ranch business then?” Sara asked. “Or is this the…girl,” she paused for effect, “who I heard you’re shacking up with now?” she finished, an evil glint in her eyes. “I must say, she really doesn’t look like your type, now does she?” she added as I stood there, gaping like an idiot.
I looked from Daniel to what I could only surmise was his last girlfriend, and I had to admit, she was exactly the type I’d heard he dated. She took the old Dolly Parton quote to heart: “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.”
I shook my head at Daniel and turned back toward the door. My policy with women like her had always been to avoid them all together, and now he’d stuck me in a viper pit without any warning. Daniel followed me out, and I didn’t care if he had anything to say to her before he did. I was so mad I could’ve spit nails, right at her fake-eyelash wearing face.
“Please, tell me that you took me in there for some reason other than making me look like an idiot,” I snapped at him when he grabbed my arm. “Please tell me that the nice ride in the truck, letting Skipper come along, your terrible singing…tell me that all that wasn’t part of you gaming me!” I jerked my arm out of his hand and motioned toward the locked truck. “I’d like to get back to the ranch now. I have a lot of work to do.” I slammed my cast against the door of the truck hard enough that I couldn’t stop the sound of pain from escaping my throat. “Unlock this truck and take me home. Right now,” I demanded.
Daniel unlocked the door and lifted Skipper in. He tried to do the same for me, but I shot him a frosty stare that would’ve cooled hell, and he backed away. Once we were in the cab, I turned toward the window and held Skipper in my lap and hugged him tight. Daniel drove, but not toward the ranch. I was too angry with him to ask where we were going, so I just sat and watched as the familiar landscape of the city rolled past my window.
He stopped at Onion Creek Park and got out of the truck without a word. He came around the passenger side and opened the door, then lifted Skipper out. My traitorous canine was all too happy to limp in joyful circles around my boss as he was led toward the rocky creek bed. I climbed out as carefully as I could one handed and shut the door behind me. Daniel sat on a large rock, while Skipper drank from the cool water and splashed water up onto the bank and us.
I reached out for Skipper’s lead, But Daniel moved it further from my grip and stared at me instead. He glanced down at the ground and then up at me again, while I stood immovable, arms crossed under my breasts.
“I had no idea that was going to happen. I deeply regret putting you in that position,” he apologized. “I know Sara is petulant and immature, but I didn’t think she’d go so far as to insult you to your face like that.”
“Who told her you and I were ‘shacking up?’” I asked, making quotations in the air with my fingers. “We’ve never even had sex, let alone lived together.” I paced the pebbly path in front of his perch. “I’m speechless,” I admitted. “I’ve stayed away from women like that all my life – on purpose. What you could possibly see in someone like that…” I broke off and shrugged my shoulders. “Well, she was right about one thing. If she is what gets your motor running, then I am definitely not your type.” I self-consciously rubbed the scar on my belly. “Even whole, I was never that perfect, that…plastic.”
I took the few steps needed to cross the distance between us. He handed me Skipper’s lead and moved over so I could sit on the large, flat rock next to him. I arched an eyebrow at him, but went ahead and sat down with a heavy sigh. We watched the water while I, and I assumed he, thought.
“I wasn’t asking you to be like her or anyone else,” Daniel finally stated. His voice was gruff and unhappy, and I realized in that moment that I was sad we’d ended before we could even begin. The same moment I realized I truly, deeply despised Miss Sara Abbott. I nodded my head in response to him, but I had run out of things to say. What could I do, ask for a do over?
“I do think it’s best if I get back to work,” I reminded him more gently. “Besides, I need to move out of your parents’ home before I wear out my welcome, if I haven’t already. The guys have been great this past week, helping me with things I couldn’t do one-handed, high-fiving me every time those two ex-employees come up in conversation…”
I leaned back to look into his eyes. “You know, growing up, I always worked with one man at a time, maybe two, much older, not interested in talking to me at all. Now all of the sudden, I’m around fifteen guys who all work and eat and quarter together, and what do I learn? It’s like working in a henhouse! These guys never run out of things to gossip about!” I exclaimed loudly enough that Skipper sprang to my side to investigate, thoroughly spraying me with dirty water from his paws.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I probably needed to keep that cast clean, huh.” Daniel grabbed Skipper and attempted to examine his paw.
“It’s okay, Daniel. That cast was made to handle a wet assault,” I assured him. “If not, he’d be in the cone-of-shame right now.” Daniel laughed and let his grin linger as we bundled my soggy puppy up to the backseat of the truck, where he could do less damage.
The air seemed to be cleared between us, and I hoped we could still salvage at least a good working relationship, if not friendship, from the debacle. We’d had a brush with something that I knew wasn’t in the cards for me anymore. Sara had done me a favor by giving me an out that didn’t involve being a disappointment for a good man like him. I tried to find more silver linings, but that stupid voice in my head was already reminding me that I was a lying sack of manure and that I really wanted to go back in time and never meet that woman. Ever.
Instead of driving straight back to the ranch, Daniel took a few minutes to text back and forth to someone. With a grunt of satisfaction, he finally put his phone away and started back through town. I tried to get his attention, but he waved me off and turned up the radio. There was no singing this time, but I didn’t get long to dwell on it before he parallel parked his Chevy in front of another design store. I tilted my head to one side and stared at him from under my eyebrows.
“Seriously? Please tell me you don’t have another girlfriend in there waiting to pounce,” I commanded him. He shook his head and sighed.
“No, this is my mother’s girlfriend. And she’s expecting us.” He lifted Skipper out of the truck. I turned and tried to climb down backwards from the cab on my own, like climbing down a ladder. So, it startled me when his big, rough hands circled my waist and lifted me down. My heart lurched and my skin immediately scorched where he touched me, but he released me as soon as my toes touched the pavement. So abruptly, in fact, that I almost lost my balance completely. It was only more proof that I’d ruined things between us with my temper.
The lady who greeted us when we walked in to La Maison was a lovely, middle-aged woman named Christie, who looked forty, but informed me that she was actually pushing fifty-five. The miracle of plastic surgery done right, she explained. I was completely confused as to why we were attempting another interior decorator, until Daniel revealed his little secret. He had petitioned his parents, and they’d agreed to let me have his brother’s old cabin instead of bunking with the guys.
It was safe to be there, he knew, but they felt a responsibility to me and to my parents to not put me in the way of danger from men, but also from gossip and implications of impropriety that could stain my reputation forever. Overcome with guilt about letting myself believe anything bad of Daniel just because of that tart made me sick to my stomach. I watched, miserable, as he and his mother’s friend discussed my likes, dislikes, favorite colors, and sense of style, as though I was the most interesting person in the world.
I picked out a bed, dresser, and armoire, a doggy-tail safe glider for the small veranda, pretty, pale drapes to frame the windows, even towels and bedding. When I felt I couldn’t look at another sample, Daniel and Christie walked away to discuss payment and delivery, while I sat with Skipper on a leather settee and rested. I was more emotionally drained than physically tired, and I cheered myself up by deciding to not only forgive Daniel for having terrible taste in women, but to make sure he knew there were no hard feelings from me on the way forward. He had to let me stay – I needed the ranch more than it needed me.
There was only so much one could glean from books without practical application, and Lago Colina had provided me with opportunities to see a lot of the technology I’d read about in action, from breech births to zoonotic diseases in cattle. I’d go days without seeing a single soul other than Pete, focused on birthing beautiful, four-legged miracles, then I’d spend a whole day checking fences with the rest of the crew and administering necessary vaccines to cattle with their help, under the supervision of the head cowhand, Gary. There wasn’t a day that went by that I wasn’t learning a better way to perform a task or a completely new aspect of farming, period.
I watched Daniel striding toward me and pushed away the fluttery feeling in my stomach. That shipped had sailed, but I wouldn’t avoid him anymore.
Daniel was the epitome of the iconic Texas rancher. He was strong, cunning, and knew everything I did about the care and development of his animals and how to best breed them. I may have known how to surgically treat an animal, but I’d bet money he could diagnose most ailments just as fast as I could, maybe even faster, just from having done it for so long.
“Are you ready?” he asked when he approached. I lifted an eyebrow in response and he laughed. “Okay, smart-ass, I’m ready to go, unless you’d like to look at anything else.”
I shook my head and held out my hand for him to assist me to my feet. He looked at me askance, but didn’t hesitate to help me up and placed my hand over the crook of his elbow. He took Skipper’s lead and led us out of the store to his truck.
“I’m sorry I blamed you for what happened earlier,” I said quietly. “I should know better than to make assumptions about one person based on the words of another, believe me.” I patted his arm with my casted hand. “I hope that our work doesn’t suffer because I chose to react poorly to idle gossip. I despise your girlfriend, of course, but that’s neither here nor there,” I added, trying to make him smile. He helped Skipper into the truck and turned back to me.
“She’s never been my girlfriend,” he asserted. “Not for her lack of trying, but she’s not my type.” He winked at me and helped me climb up into the cab.
I waited until he couldn’t see me before I smiled. We may not have been destined to be, but for what it was worth, he didn’t hate me and that was enough for me now.