Joshua and the Cowgirl (2 page)

His features instantly softened with apparent understanding. The suggestion of pity only angered her.

“I’m sure Cal would work a deal with you,” Joshua said. “I don’t think he’s interested in keeping the place for himself. Cal’s got enough on his hands with that horse farm down in Florida. Now that he’s won a couple of races, he’s more convinced than ever that raising Thoroughbreds is the life for him.”

Joshua’s aggrieved tone told her what he thought of that idea. If he’d meant to reassure her, though, he’d missed the mark. Cal’s disinterest wouldn’t help her situation a bit. Mrs. Mac had her mind set on giving this place to her grandson. Her legacy, she said. His birthright. She’d been trying her damnedest to manipulate him into accepting it. Knowing Mrs. Mac, sooner or later she’d have her way. Then, even if Cal were willing to sell someday, Garrett wasn’t likely to have the kind of cash it would take to impress him.

“It’ll be years before I can pay Cal what it’s worth,” she told Joshua honestly. “He’ll probably sell it off long before that.” She hoped Joshua Ames couldn’t tell just how much that hurt. Garrett had been so darned close for the first time in her life to getting what she wanted, and now it was slipping away. It was all but certain the ranch was going to a man who didn’t give a damn about it and was likely to sell it to strangers at the first opportunity.

“Maybe I could talk to him.”

The offer sounded so sincere and was so totally unexpected that Garrett found herself staring at him in astonishment. “Why would you do that?”

“Beats me,” Joshua said. “Maybe it’s your charming personality.”

Garrett flushed, taking the pointed barb square on the chin. The man hadn’t been here five minutes and she was taking out all of her anger and frustration on him. It wasn’t Joshua’s fault she was going to lose her dream. It wasn’t even his fault that he was a greenhorn. She surveyed the thick blond hair, the stubborn chin, the wreck of a nose that ruined the perfection of his face but created interest. Everything about Joshua Ames shouted money and glamour,
except
that nose. It spoke of street-tough masculinity. She wondered who had dared to bloody it and under what circumstances. Then, perversely, Garrett wondered why she cared.

She was still wondering that when he said, “Do you suppose we could get inside before I freeze to death?”

Snug in the warmth of her sheepskin jacket, she couldn’t resist taunting him. “It’s mild out here. You should be here in January.”

He shuddered visibly. “God forbid!”

Garrett grinned. “Go on in. Mrs. Mac’s waiting for you.”

“And Cal?”

“He’s flown back to Florida,” she said, enjoying the quick blaze of fury that swept into his eyes before he could discreetly mask it.

“He’s gone where?” Joshua bellowed so loudly that Jezebel took flight and headed back to the pasture.

“Left just as the snow started. Should be landing back there about now,” she confirmed cheerfully.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Seems to me you’re going to have to catch up with him first.”

He appeared torn between the desire to flee and resignation. “You don’t have to enjoy this so damned much,” he muttered.

“Why not? We get so little entertainment out here in the boondocks.”

Joshua winced, but his guilt was apparently fleeting. Then a wicked, dangerous gleam filled his eyes. That glint, hot enough to melt snow, warmed her as no sheepskin jacket ever had. His gaze raked over her from head to toe. Very slowly. “Perhaps I can find other ways to change that.”

Garrett’s cheeks flamed at the deliberate taunt. She knew how to handle the straightforward passes thrown by hopeful cowboys. She was less sure how to deal with sly, flirtatious comments meant to rattle her. Garrett knew instinctively, though, that she couldn’t allow Joshua to see that his seductive remark bothered her in the slightest. Poking her hands into her pockets, she looked him straight in the eye and declared with bold impudence, “I doubt you’re man enough.”

Instead of the stunned outrage she’d expected, the insult merely drew one of his devastating killer smiles. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” Joshua challenged, running a finger along the line of her jaw. Deep inside her something responded to that deliberate touch, something that scared the daylights out of her.

“When hell freezes over!” she retorted, swiping his hand away and trying to ignore the spine-tingling effect of his low chuckle of amusement.

He glanced around meaningfully at the endless snow-covered vistas and smiled. A distressingly masculine expression of smug satisfaction spread slowly across his face, finally reaching his eyes. Those sexy, fascinating blue-green eyes, Garrett decided, were going to be her undoing. His gaze locked on hers and no matter how hard she willed it, she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away.

“Looks to me like it already has,” he said, more laughter threading through his rich voice.

“Hmm?” she said blankly.

Joshua gestured at their surroundings. “Hell, sweetheart. Looks to me like it’s already frozen over.”

Chapter Two

G
arrett blistered the blue skies with every epithet she could think of to describe Joshua’s character and his heritage. She was still muttering under her breath when she charged into the barn at full throttle.

“Whoa,” Red Grady said, catching her by the elbows and steadying her as she plowed into his solid, barrel chest. “Who lit a fire under you?”

“That man,” she said, as if that would be explanation enough.

“At last check we had about a dozen men on the premises. Care to be more specific?” the ranch foreman inquired, barely containing a grin.

“Joshua Ames.”

“Ah,” Red murmured knowingly. “He does have a way of getting under your skin. Why is that, do you suppose?”

“Because he is an obnoxious, know-it-all jerk.” Garrett grabbed the saddle soap and went to work on her saddle. Red propped a booted foot on a sawhorse and watched her.

“If you rub much harder, you’re going to wear out the leather,” he observed finally. “Want me to beat the man up for you?”

Garrett’s gaze shot up to meet his laughing eyes. “You’d do it, too, wouldn’t you?” she said, more grateful than ever for Red’s enduring friendship.

It had been nearly fourteen years since Red had found her waiting tables in that roadside diner halfway between Cheyenne and the ranch. He’d befriended her over eggs and grits and a stack of pancakes that still awed her. Garrett had been seven months pregnant, exhausted and lonely. An uncomplicated, caring man, Red had stood by her, listening to her fears and her dreams. A month before her daughter had been born, he’d brought her to meet Mrs. McDonald. The job interview had gone smoothly. She had known that Red had stuck his neck out for her and that, very likely, Mrs. McDonald had invented a job for her. He’d wanted to see her settled before the birth. She would never forget Red for that. Nor would she ever take advantage of him.

“I can handle Joshua Ames,” she told him now, though she hadn’t the faintest idea how.

He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “You know I’d do anything for you, though. That’s a given. You need, you ask, okay?”

Garrett wrapped her hand around his larger, callused one and pressed it to her cheek. “Thanks, Red.”

His cheeks turned a shade of red very nearly as bright as his curly, untamed hair. He backed off a step and shoved his hands into his pockets. “No need for thanks. As far as I’m concerned, you and your daughter, Casey, are family and families stick together.” He grinned at her. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind taking a punch at the competition on my own account anyway.”

The offhanded remark was made cheerfully enough, but it troubled Garrett just the same. She knew Red was fond of her. In his own stumbling way he’d told her more than once that he’d be pleased to share a future with her. If she was ever going to trust a man, Red would be the one, but something had always held her back. Today, encountering Joshua again and feeling her blood race hot and wild at his slightest touch, she recognized what had kept her from that commitment to Red. Garrett didn’t want the kind of danger Joshua represented, but settling for less wasn’t in the cards for her, either. She’d rather go through life alone, accountable only to herself and to Casey. It was a choice she’d made years ago. Until the day she’d met Joshua Ames, she’d never questioned it.

That alone told her far too much about the threat he posed. With any luck, though, he would be gone in a day or two and she would survive this second attack on her senses unscathed. If there was even the most remote chance of it happening any other way, well, there was always Red’s offer to punch the man out for her.

* * *

Joshua paced from one end of the cluttered parlor to the other, dodging musty, old-fashioned furniture and cursing Cal as he went. A fire blazed, which should have made the room welcoming. Instead the house felt stuffy and overheated, making it especially oppressive after the icy air outside and Garrett’s equally chilly reception.

Joshua’s temper, usually slow to rise, was leashed so tightly that the slightest irritation was likely to set him off. It was his experience that Mrs. McDonald could irritate the dickens out of him in less than ten seconds flat. He could hardly wait for her to waltz in here in that imperious way she had and try to explain why he was here and Cal was basking in the Florida sun. He heard the sharp tapping of her cane and prepared himself for a royal battle.

“Mr. Ames, it’s so lovely to have you back with us again,” she greeted him in a voice that rang with a strength belied by her slow, obviously painful approach. Joshua found himself moving swiftly to grasp her elbow as she eased herself onto a Victorian chair covered in faded brocade. Though the chair looked miserably uncomfortable, she sat in it regally. Her back was not quite as ramrod straight as he’d remembered, but her still coal-black hair was swept up in a crowning braid that added to the impression of stature and quiet dignity. He might have been fooled had he not seen her enter the room or looked closely at her face.

Filled with compassion, Joshua pulled up a chair and sat opposite her. He’d heard about her osteoporosis, but this was the first evidence he’d seen of its devastating effect. His anger died in the face of her valiant struggle to brave a pain that shadowed the snapping blue of her eyes and drained the color from her cheeks. The disease had clearly worsened since his last visit.

“Can I get you something?” he offered.

A faint smile tugged at the grim set of her mouth. “I can still manage to ring for the help, young man. Tea will be served shortly.”

Joshua sat back, chastened yet amused. Obviously nothing had weakened her spirit. In that instant his reluctant respect for the gritty, eighty-two-year-old rancher grew tremendously. He vowed to do nothing more to undercut her bravery. This was one situation in which chivalry was most likely to be deemed pity and refused out of hand.

“Where’s Cal?” he asked far more mildly than he’d intended.

Her mouth turned down. “Home, I expect. He said something about those infernal horses of his, then took off.”

“Even though he knew I was coming?”

“I suspect his sudden hurry might have had something to do with my offer to build him his own place out here, so I could watch my great-grandbabies grow up.”

Joshua grinned reluctantly. “That would do it.”

“I don’t know why the man’s so stubborn,” she grumbled. “It makes perfect sense for him to live out here. I know I could convince Marilou, if he’d just give me a little time to work on her. She likes the sense of family continuity here.”

“And you’re perfectly willing to use his wife’s weakness for family ties to manipulate Cal. No wonder he’s run for his life. I’d be surprised if he ever brings Marilou and the baby back again.”

Mrs. McDonald scowled at him impatiently. “I might have known you’d stick up for him. Can’t any of you see that this place will all be his one of these days? He needs to know how to run it.”

“Cal certainly doesn’t need it and he says he doesn’t want it.”

“Stubborn fool. He’s ignoring reality. I am not about to change my will at this late date. If nothing else, he should think of his children.”

“He can provide for his children well enough and I suspect he comes by the stubborn need to do so naturally.”

The observation drew a nod of reluctant satisfaction. “I expect he does at that. I suppose I ought to count it as a blessing that he’s not some namby-pamby sort I can push around.”

“You certainly should,” Joshua agreed, though less than ten minutes ago he’d been wanting to shove Cal around a little himself. “So, why am I here? Are you hoping I’ll be more amenable to your whims?”

She chuckled. “That’s not a label I’d pin on you, young man. You’re worse than that grandson of mine. Cal insisted on dragging you out here, though. Took one look at the books and nearly went into cardiac arrest. He snuck off to call you right after that.”

“I set up a very simple bookkeeping procedure for you the last time I was here. Didn’t you use it?”

She waved a gnarled, bejeweled hand indifferently. “More or less.”

Joshua groaned. “What about the accountant in Cheyenne I contacted for you? Why didn’t you call him?”

Her chin rose. “I didn’t like him.”

“Why?”

“He was too young.”

“He was nearly sixty.”

“I didn’t like that awful after-shave he used. Smelled all prissy to me. How can you trust a man who douses himself with scent like that?”

Joshua muttered an oath, forgetting that Mrs. McDonald’s hearing was sharp as ever. She stiffened. “Young man, I do not tolerate language like that in my house.”

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I don’t suppose it crossed your mind that you’re looking for excuses to keep Cal around and involved in things?”

She sniffed indignantly. “Well, of course I am.” She sighed. “Not that it’s doing me any good.”

“How’d he convince you to let me come back?”

“He didn’t ask.”

“I could leave,” he offered, possibly a shade too enthusiastically. She settled a sharp gaze on him and shook her head.