Cowboy Outcasts (3 page)

The cowboy stroked the horse’s neck lovingly, a
look of concern on his face.

“I promise, I don’t eat much.”

He continued to examine the horse. “I knew
there’d be a catch,” he said, moving to the other side of the animal. “There
always is.”

“Is there a problem with him?”

He glanced over at her briefly. “He’s recovering
from Choke. Third time it’s happened.”

“Have you tried putting oversized rocks in his
food trough? It’ll force him to eat slower.”

He smacked the horse on the rump, sending it
through the open gate towards the grazing pasture. “How you know so much? You
don’t look like any cowgirl I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not. But I’ve learned a thing or two along
the way. I did a year on equine studies,” she said. “And by the way, I’m not a
little girl. I’m twenty-sex.”

“Are you now?”
 
His interest suddenly piqued. He cocked an eyebrow and ran a hand along
the stubble on his jawline.

Hailey blushed, realizing her Freudian slip.
“Twenty-six. I meant, twenty-six.”

“I suppose you could stay in my brother’s room.
I doubt he’ll be back.”

“Do you live alone here?”

“I do.”

She glanced around the landscape, wondering how
one man could maintain so much acreage. Why was he alone? He certainly wasn’t
hard on the eyes—or any of the senses. The man even smelled good, a mix of
leather, horses, and clean sweat. As she discreetly took in every hard ridge of
muscle, she realized that eight years had passed since she started her first
year of secondary education. In all that time she’d never dated, never thought
about a future beyond her career. It took only a few minutes alone with Mr.
O’Shea for her body to respond, reminding her she was a woman, not just a
scientist.

She realized they hadn’t introduced each other
properly. Calling him Mr. O’Shea her entire stay would be a bit much. “My
name’s Hailey Watson, by the way.” She held out her hand.

“Callum.” After a brief shake of the hands, he
closed the gate and walked back in the direction of the house. “You should get
a new muffler for your truck.”

“I would if I could afford one.”

“Aren’t scientists supposed to be rich?”

“Apparently not my branch. If I were in this for
the money, I would have called it quits years ago.”

“Makes no sense to me,” he muttered as he
entered the side door to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure if she was expected to
follow him in or wait outside, so she stopped at the threshold.

“Ms. Watson, you gonna stand there all day?”

She quickly opened the screen and entered,
feeling out of her depth. “Please call me Hailey. My professors all call me Ms.
Watson, and it makes me cringe when I hear it.”

“It’s your name, no?”

“We may as well be on first name basis. I won’t
be able to solve the hog problem overnight.”

“Hailey.”
He said the word slowly, enunciating every syllable with his Irish
tongue. The sound traveled through her body like a charge of electricity. The
way he made her feel staggered her. “We have this name back home, too. It means
hay meadow, just like the one to the west of the house.”

“That’s not very romantic,” she said.

“You haven’t seen the field as the sun rises or
sets. You’ll change your mind after that.”
 
After he spoke, he set his cowboy hat on a hook and then ran a hand
through his thick, dark hair. He rarely made eye contact, which she found odd.
His eyes were as dark as onyx and she wondered what was hidden in their depths.
There must be more to this man than rumors and an empty house.

She tentatively walked around the kitchen and
then entered the living room. There was a massive stone fireplace, an oak
grandfather clock, and a few pieces of mismatched furniture. The old recliner
was positioned right in front of the hearth, and she couldn’t help but picture
Callum spending long, lonely nights in that chair. It wasn’t natural for humans
to live alone, just as it wasn’t natural for most animals.

He certainly didn’t sit around and mope too much
because his body carried no extra fat, just solid, lean muscle. When she
glanced behind her, he was standing still in the entryway of the room, his arms
crossed over his bare chest. He watched her in silence, like a predator
studying its prey before the takedown. Was she in danger being alone here with
him? Carrie had warned her. Would she regret not taking the advice she assumed
was gossip? Hailey commended herself for having an open mind. It was the only
way to tackle science or life in general. She liked to make decisions based on
facts and personal experience, not hearsay and gossip.

So far she didn’t know what to make of the dark-haired
Adonis. He was rough around the edges, curt, and antisocial. But he’d agreed to
give her the opportunity to work his ranch knowing he’d have to provide food
and shelter. That was a big bonus point in her books, so they were off to a
decent start.

“It’s a big house for one person,” she said
after walking the perimeter of the room. There was a staircase heading to the
upper level and a hallway leading to another area of the main floor.

“My brother only left last year, but I still
wouldn’t sell it for all the money in the world.”
 
There was an inflection of defensiveness in
his tone. He continually blinked his eyes and she wondered what it meant.

“I think that’s admirable.”

He cocked his head to the side. After studying
her for a moment, he waved for her to follow him. “Come. I’ll show you your
room.”

The stairs were creaky, testimony to the house’s
age. She had no fairy tale memories of childhood—creaky steps, nights by the
fire…love. Callum, however quiet, seemed to be holding onto a great legacy,
memories worth cherishing. She envied him for that. Her family was sterile and
materialistic, both qualities she loathed.

He had to kick the bottom of the warped door for
it to open. “I haven’t been in here in months,” he said. “No need.”

She walked past him and looked around. The bed
was made in a patchwork quilt. Everything was preserved as if he either
expected his brother to return or didn’t have the time to pack everything up.
There were photos on the wall, cologne bottles on the dresser, and trophies
lining a tall wooden shelf.

“What are these for?” She ran a finger along the
thick dust covering one of the trophies.

“Rodeo riding. I suspect that’s what he’s doing
now, but I wouldn’t know.”

“Is he older than you?” she asked.

When he didn’t answer after a few moments, she
turned around to gauge his reaction. He looked tense, his facial muscles
twitching and jaw clenched. Had she said something wrong? His brother must be a
sensitive topic.

“Three years older,” he finally said. He turned
his back to her. “Washroom is at the end of the hall. My room is next to it if
you need anything.”
 
Then he took off
without another word. At least there wouldn’t be any funny business going on.
The man appeared to be repulsed by her. She was a problem he barely tolerated.
Once the hog invasion was remedied, she was sure she’d get a swift kick in the
ass off the property.

It shouldn’t matter one way or another. She was
at the O’Shea Ranch for a purpose—to continue her research and make it through
another day. But there was something dark and alluring about the Irish cowboy
that pulled her in. She wanted to get into his head, like her animal subjects,
and learn everything there was to know about him besides the fact he had a nice
ass.

It felt like butterflies fluttered in her
stomach, awakening her dormant sexuality. Now the challenge would be ignoring
her human nature, which suddenly reared its ugly head. Science was so much
easier without unexpected variables.

Chapter Three

Callum managed to avoid the girl the rest of the
day and evening. As the sun set he returned from the fields, exhausted and
hungry. He wasn’t used to having another person to care for. He’d have to get
used to the responsibility while she was there. With little daylight left, he’d
have to settle for barbequing up some of his frozen chickens as fresh would
take too long to prepare.

He hoped he’d be able to control himself around
her this round. His Tourette’s seemed to run rampant when he was in close
proximity to the little blonde. Why? He had nothing to prove and certainly
wasn’t attracted to her. She’d likely turn out like all the others—disgusted by
him given enough time. But she offered a free service which he wasn’t in a
position to refuse. He blamed his nerves on his solitary lifestyle. He just
wasn’t used to having someone else around.

When he entered the kitchen, the lights were
off. He needed to start a fire inside to stave off the evening chill, and one
out back to prepare the food.

“Hailey?” Had she gone to sleep already? Guilt
began to well inside him. The girl was already too thin in his opinion, and now
he was starving her.

After no response, he ran up the stairs and
checked all the rooms. Where the fuck was she? Her truck was still parked in
the lot, an unpleasant eyesore. He knew he’d end up playing babysitter.

“Hailey?”

He grabbed his padded jacket from the coat tree
and headed to the barn. There were acres of wheat and hay fields around the
house, so he’d be sure to find her if he patrolled the area on horseback. The
forests were a distant line on the horizon, too far for her to venture, and the
breeding ground for those damn hogs.

Callum cantered around the area for nearly half
an hour with no sign of the girl. He was about to turn back when he heard a
remote scream. It came from the forest, now shrouded in night.

He jabbed the heels of his boots against the
horse’s sides and galloped through the blackness. The sense of urgency made his
heart race, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Wind rushed through his hair,
burning his eyes. He strained to see with only the gentle cast of moonlight.
The soft glow highlighted the waves of wheat that surrounded him like a golden
ocean.

As soon as he reached the treeline, he
dismounted before bringing the horse to a full stop. “Hailey!”

“Callum!”

He pulled his rifle off the side of his saddle
and ran blind towards her voice. Her whimpers spurred him on, helping him find
her with increased ease. She was bunkered down behind some unruly briars. The
yellow, glowing eyes of an oversized hog were the source of her distress. It
was an unruly beast, choosing to attack rather than retreat. Its feral growl
warned Callum to stay back.

It was too dark to aim his rifle with certainty.
He dropped it to the ground, pulled a blade from his boot and charged forward
with a roar of his own. The hog was powerful with lethal tusks attempting to
rip him to shreds. Unfortunately for the hog, this wasn’t his first wrestling
match. They struggled, rolling about on the forest floor. The roots and briars
scraped his exposed face and jabbed him in the ribs. They danced until Callum
found the moment to strike, driving the sharpened blade into the animal’s
throat, slicing wide. It took a few moments for the wild boar to finally
settle, its life ebbing away.

He lay there on his back with the moonlight
filtering down through the forest canopy, his breathing rapid and heavy. As
soon as his wits returned, he shoved the dead weight off him, stood, and went
to collect the girl. He snagged her wrist, yanking her out of the brushwood and
pulling her along behind him. Without a word, he hoisted her up onto his horse,
grabbed his gun, and mounted behind her.

The ride back across the fields was uneasily
quiet. Only the rhythmic beat of the horse’s hooves and Hailey’s occasional sob
could be heard.

Once back home, he helped her dismount and
immediately brought the gelding to the barn for unsaddling. He hated pushing
his horses this late at night, and he blamed Ms. Watson and her foolhardy
expedition.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He didn’t realize
she was behind him in the barn.

“You should get inside before you catch a
chill.” If he dealt with her now, he’d regret it…or at least she would. His
mother had always told him to take a walk or go for a ride before addressing
the object of his irritation. Speaking from a right mind didn’t land a man in
boiling water nearly as often as acting out of passion. His father and brother
never understood that concept, giving the O’Shea men a bad reputation.

“It’s just that you were gone, so I thought I’d
start my research. I didn’t expect the sun to set so fast. Then—”

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed! Those hogs
could have gored you to death.
 
And I
could barely find you in the darkness. Foolish all around.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “And thank you for
saving me.”

After reluctantly putting his horse away wet, he
closed the bay doors and marched back to the house. Little Ms. Watson could be
sorry all she wanted, but the woman was already proving to be more trouble than
she was worth.