thinking and her reasons for needing the time made sense.”
“You Google-searched her, didn’t you? You looked her up and decided you’d give your left nut to get your hands on her, and allowed yourself enough time to make sure it happened. And happened often.”
“Leave my nuts out of this.” Hands at his hips, Wyatt pulled in a deep breath along with the smells of damp leather, damp horse, fresh hay and not-so-fresh man. Him. Not the first impression he’d wanted to make, but so be it.
“This is as much for you guys as anything, remember?” Wyatt threw out a lot of the stuff he’d been thinking. “No one comes out here who’s not buying stock, leasing stock, selling stock or training stock unless they’re offering up supplies to help get all the rest of it done.”
There was silence from Buck, so Wyatt went on. “I’ve kept the bunch of you so busy it’s a wonder you haven’t all up and put in your notice. You need more of a life than what you’ve got here. You deserve wives and families, if that’s what you want, and this may not pan out, but I thought it worth a shot.”
When he looked again at Buck, the foreman was waiting, his elbow parked on Fargo’s rump, his hat low on his forehead, but not low enough to hide what was going on inside his skull. Wyatt didn’t think he’d ever known anyone else who could call him on his bullshit without saying a word.
“There’s a contest, you know.” As if that was going to make a difference. “A reader from the paper wins a long weekend out here, relaxing, seeing what we do.”
“Nothing about what we do here is relaxing,” Buck grumbled.
“It’s being billed as a rustic getaway. Maybe they’ll be women and one of them can help you with that relaxing thing,” Wyatt said, hearing a whole lot of laughter coming from the direction of the house, and his gut tightening up when he realized how much of it was female.
Buck glanced over Wyatt’s shoulder in that direction. “And you? I’m guessing you’ve got four days’ worth of relaxing planned?”
This time Wyatt didn’t respond. Denying that the thought had crossed his mind would make him a liar. Admitting it would cause him no end of grief.
So all he said before he turned to make his way to the house was, “If you don’t get that horse seen to, you won’t be here for the next four days to know whether I’ve got anything planned or not.”
W YATT was only halfway across the yard when the laughter began to die down. One at a time his men noticed his approach. Feet began to shuffle, heads to hang. Throats suddenly needed clearing.
If he hadn’t been so irritated with himself over giving in to her request for four days, he would’ve chuckled and knocked them down a few pegs because goofin’ like that was the kind of relationship he had with them. His fist was more putty than iron, and Silly Putty at that. It was part of what made them family, and was as important to the running of the ranch as was their shared background in rodeo. Every one of them had come from the same place, knew the same hardships of that life, and had chosen this one because it kept them close to a world that ran in their blood.
Bottom line, however, was that he’d seen her first. His men would get their chances to sit down and pour out their hearts. But after whatever it was that had happened between the two of them out there on the road, after that phone call where he’d heard so much longing in her voice, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to stake his claim in broad daylight.
And, as the thought crossed his mind, he realized Buck had hit the nail. All along in the back of his mind, he’d been making plans.
“Mornin’,” he said, stopping in front of the porch, setting one boot on the bottom step, a hand on his thigh. “I’m thinking there’s a lotta work around here that won’t do itself while you all have your little tea party.”
He didn’t look at Dr. Autrey. At Tess. She didn’t look
“You Google-searched her, didn’t you? You looked her up and decided you’d give your left nut to get your hands on her, and allowed yourself enough time to make sure it happened. And happened often.”
“Leave my nuts out of this.” Hands at his hips, Wyatt pulled in a deep breath along with the smells of damp leather, damp horse, fresh hay and not-so-fresh man. Him. Not the first impression he’d wanted to make, but so be it.
“This is as much for you guys as anything, remember?” Wyatt threw out a lot of the stuff he’d been thinking. “No one comes out here who’s not buying stock, leasing stock, selling stock or training stock unless they’re offering up supplies to help get all the rest of it done.”
There was silence from Buck, so Wyatt went on. “I’ve kept the bunch of you so busy it’s a wonder you haven’t all up and put in your notice. You need more of a life than what you’ve got here. You deserve wives and families, if that’s what you want, and this may not pan out, but I thought it worth a shot.”
When he looked again at Buck, the foreman was waiting, his elbow parked on Fargo’s rump, his hat low on his forehead, but not low enough to hide what was going on inside his skull. Wyatt didn’t think he’d ever known anyone else who could call him on his bullshit without saying a word.
“There’s a contest, you know.” As if that was going to make a difference. “A reader from the paper wins a long weekend out here, relaxing, seeing what we do.”
“Nothing about what we do here is relaxing,” Buck grumbled.
“It’s being billed as a rustic getaway. Maybe they’ll be women and one of them can help you with that relaxing thing,” Wyatt said, hearing a whole lot of laughter coming from the direction of the house, and his gut tightening up when he realized how much of it was female.
Buck glanced over Wyatt’s shoulder in that direction. “And you? I’m guessing you’ve got four days’ worth of relaxing planned?”
This time Wyatt didn’t respond. Denying that the thought had crossed his mind would make him a liar. Admitting it would cause him no end of grief.
So all he said before he turned to make his way to the house was, “If you don’t get that horse seen to, you won’t be here for the next four days to know whether I’ve got anything planned or not.”
W YATT was only halfway across the yard when the laughter began to die down. One at a time his men noticed his approach. Feet began to shuffle, heads to hang. Throats suddenly needed clearing.
If he hadn’t been so irritated with himself over giving in to her request for four days, he would’ve chuckled and knocked them down a few pegs because goofin’ like that was the kind of relationship he had with them. His fist was more putty than iron, and Silly Putty at that. It was part of what made them family, and was as important to the running of the ranch as was their shared background in rodeo. Every one of them had come from the same place, knew the same hardships of that life, and had chosen this one because it kept them close to a world that ran in their blood.
Bottom line, however, was that he’d seen her first. His men would get their chances to sit down and pour out their hearts. But after whatever it was that had happened between the two of them out there on the road, after that phone call where he’d heard so much longing in her voice, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to stake his claim in broad daylight.
And, as the thought crossed his mind, he realized Buck had hit the nail. All along in the back of his mind, he’d been making plans.
“Mornin’,” he said, stopping in front of the porch, setting one boot on the bottom step, a hand on his thigh. “I’m thinking there’s a lotta work around here that won’t do itself while you all have your little tea party.”
He didn’t look at Dr. Autrey. At Tess. She didn’t look
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