Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (14 page)

“Maybe I’m feeling a little punchy today.”

He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, extreme tenderness in his gaze. “What can I do to help?”

Swallowing hard, she parted her lips to speak, expecting to crack a joke about making her scream with pleasure. Instead the furthest thing from her mind popped out. “Will you help me gather everyone for that town meeting we talked about?”

Surprise crossed his handsome features. “Of course, darlin’. I think it’s high time.”

In one step she was in his arms again, being soothed and babied just the way she needed at that moment. When her tears dried, he handed her his hanky.

“It’s clean. I promise I haven’t even wiped a bit of horse spit off with it.” She sniffled a laugh, and he echoed her smile. “Better now?”

“Yes, thank you, Brodie.”

“It’s what friends are for.”

A sigh burned her chest at his words. They were sleeping together, operating this ranch like a married couple, yet he only considered her a friend? She blew her nose, stuffed the hanky in her pocket, and took up her chores again. Brodie gave her a long, evaluating look before returning to his stall.

They worked like well-oiled gears all morning. Checking the herd, locating an injured cow, and driving it back to the barn where they could keep a better eye on it. When Danica’s stomach began to growl, Brodie laughed and suggested she come back home with him so his mother could hover over her instead of worrying how much was left on his plate.

His cheeks looked less hollow today, and she wondered if he’d gotten a good night’s sleep along with his good meal yesterday.

“Okay, just let me go into the house and wash up.” She mounted the porch steps and Crow raised his head. Due to his old age, he was still recovering from his injuries, but his spirits were up at least.

“I think you’ve gotten lazier, Crow.” Brodie squatted beside the dog to rub his ears as Danica went inside.

The house was as silent as a tomb, and she checked the living room to see her parents staring at a rerun. Heart sinking, she said, “Can I fix you guys some lunch?”

Her mother waved a hand, her eyes void. “I’ll make sandwiches in a few.”

“Dad? Do you need anything?”

“No, sweetheart. I’ll eat later.”

Danica studied the man who looked so much like Matt. In her brother’s older years he might have looked exactly like this. Held-back tears scalded her nose. They all had some healing to do, but she felt on track with her belief her parents needed a change of scenery or a goal in life. Maybe a new role in the community, rebuilding in the same way organizations like Habitat for Humanity worked.

Her mind latched on to the idea of a community effort to rebuild. As she washed her hands and splashed water on her face, she adopted and rejected ideas. When she met Brodie on the porch and put her hand in his, she felt a lift in spirits.

“What do you think we should discuss at the town meeting?” she asked.

They descended the steps to the grass. Crow didn’t bother getting up from his comfy floorboards.

Brodie swung her hand lightly back and forth as they walked. Across the field it would only take them a few minutes to reach his house and a home-cooked meal with real conversation.

“I don’t rightly know. The guys and I agreed to talk before the meeting and come up with some ideas to lead them. But now I think we need to gather the input of the town first.”

She nodded. “There’s no doubt we need businesses to return, and that will bring people. Los Vista is a dead zone.”

One glance at his face and she realized her mistake—the military term had probably sent him spiraling into his past. Maybe into the moment of Matt’s death.

She reached across her body and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry.”

Startled, he glanced at her. “For what?”

Not knowing if she should go on, she pressed her lips together.

“If you think you have to guard your words for fear of sending me into a PTSD fit, you’re mistaken. A lot of things have been triggering bad memories, but not you. Never you.”

Damn, their day was carrying more weight than ever. Worries seemed to be piling up.

“Just tell me if I ever say or do something to bother you, Brodie.”

“I will, darlin’.”

They walked, boots chafing the hay they’d managed to cut in one afternoon. Brodie said after the grass dried for a day or so they’d bale it. Some would be reserved for winter and the rest sold. They also discussed selling a couple middle-aged cows that were good for steaks but not calving.

By the time they reached the Bells’ place, they were back on an even keel. Sitting with Brodie’s family around the table lifted her spirits even further. When she asked Mrs. Bell what she thought would bring people home to Los Vista, the woman didn’t hesitate.

“The church.”

Danica blinked and shot Brodie a questioning glance.

“People will travel to worship, and they loved Pastor Kent. We had a real feeling of community. After Sunday services, we’d meet for picnics or in the coffee shop or restaurants around town. If people return for church, even for a few hours, they might remember why they loved living here.”

His pa gave a nod of agreement.

“Why hasn’t it been rebuilt with insurance money?” Brodie asked around a bite of pork chop.

“From what I hear, Pastor Kent gave all his insurance money away to families in need after the storm,” his mother said.

Danica must have had her head in a hole for the past couple months. She hadn’t heard, but it was something the man would do, even if it meant he and his family were living in tents. At least the kids had a place to play now.

“So that’s number one on our agenda at the town meeting,” Danica said with excitement. “We ask for a collection that will go toward building a church.”

His mother’s smile was infectious. “Yes, that would go far in a feeling of community. You say there’s a town meeting?”

“Brodie and his friends and I are trying to pull the town together. We’ve lost so much but it’s time to sprout from the earth and rebuild. It’s time to take back our lives.” The conviction in her voice seemed to sink into everyone. They stared at her.

Especially Brodie, whose eyes shone with the two things that had uplifted her from the start—affection and admiration. It wasn’t love, but she hoped soon he realized how good they were together. She couldn’t imagine her life without him now.

* * * * *

From across the room, Brodie watched Danica interact with his friends. He couldn’t help but be on edge, seeing her lay a hand on Garrett’s arm or laugh at Wydell’s joke. His buddies were pigs through and through, and he wouldn’t put it past one of them to hit on her.

Or grab her.

If they do, they’ll have broken fingers.

His barn had been set up with table and chairs, but nobody was sitting. The guys were flocked around Danica like bees to a flower. She smoothed her hair over her shoulder, where it lay gleaming in rich waves. Brodie bit off a growl. He probably wasn’t the only male noticing.

He approached slowly as he’d near an explosive. Danica spoke animatedly with Wydell.

“How did you get such a deep drawl?” she was asking. “It’s got more twang than any of ours.”

He tipped his hat flirtatiously. “I take that as a compliment. What’s a cowboy without some twang?”

She laughed, and Brodie couldn’t stand there another second. He reached between the guys’ bodies and settled a proprietary hand on Danica’s hip. Her gaze latched onto him immediately.

“Excuse me,” she said and scooted from the ring of men.

Brodie glanced from face to face. “Let’s start this meeting.”

Once they’d all taken positions around the table, Garrett reached out and tugged Danica’s hair. She batted his hand away but grinned in a way that made Brodie’s heart surge.

“Looking good today, Squirt,” Garrett drawled.

“Not lookin’ too shabby yourself, soldier. Is that a new hat? It’s not ratty enough to have been on your head through war.” She leaned closer to him, and Brodie clenched his fingers.

“We forgot the beer. Danica, would you mind going into the house for some?” Brodie was being an ass sending her on the errand, but his self-serving side dominated. He didn’t want her within a country mile of his friends.

Giving him a funny look, she got up and left the barn to fetch the beer.

“Let’s talk about what took place at the town meeting,” Brodie opened. Every resident of Los Vista had gathered at the Kents’ place to discuss how to fix their town. A young woman who was living in the neighboring town had even come with a pad and paper to record their meeting.

Many people agreed with his mother’s view to resurrect the church first—that the community was centered there. But they heard plenty of other good things, such as a feed store and a cabinet-making shop that would employ many people, and one child in the bunch had been certain that with a good ice cream shop, every resident of Los Vista would return tomorrow.

Smiling at the memory, Brodie looked around the table.

“I agree with the church, but you heard Pastor Kent—there are plenty of ways to worship, and money is better spent on housing than on an expensive steeple,” Garrett said.

“Yeah, and I think he’s right.” Wydell looked up from his fingernail he was picking. The redness around his nail made Brodie realize he wasn’t alone in feeling out of sorts with his return to civilian life. They all showed signs of stress.

“What are your ideas, Wydell?” Brodie asked.

The man abandoned his nail and rested against the old wooden chair he sat on. “The land has always been a lure. Hikers and vacationers come to experience the beautiful countryside. We’re missing an opportunity.”

Brodie steepled his fingers just as Danica entered the barn carrying a six-pack and a bag of pretzels. When she sidled up to his side and leaned over him to deposit her goodies in the center of the table, Brodie clenched his hands to keep from hauling her into his lap.

But that was exactly what he wanted to do—to show everyone just who was spending time loving her.

“Just what I like to see—a beautiful woman bearing beer and snacks,” Garrett said, and everyone laughed.

Her hair fell in a curtain as she twisted to look at him.

Brodie reacted. He settled a hand over hers, and she directed her attention at him. “Would you mind bringing a bottle of whiskey and some glasses too?”

Something moved behind her eyes. “Sure.” Straightening away, her lush hair swinging back to kiss her full breasts, she moved away from the table.

The guys watched her go, and Brodie didn’t need to turn to know how damn fine her hips looked when she walked. He bit off a growl and shoved beer at the Neanderthals ogling his woman.

Not my woman. Matt’s sister who’s off-limits.

He wasn’t going to answer the next voice in his head that was asking why she was off-limits when she was so willing. He cracked his beer and they spent several minutes discussing Los Vista’s high points for tourists. Trails, hunting, horseback riding.

“So we put a few horses on a plot of land and advertise riding,” Garrett offered.

“But where people are going to stay is the real problem. They come to town and drop some cash to ride a horse but they don’t spend more. We need fairies to move in overnight and build the town again,” Wydell said.

Brodie couldn’t deny it would be a relief to wake as if from a fairytale sleep and find their world whole again. He scuffed his hand over his jaw.

“We need some housing. I’m thinking vacation homes.” Wydell’s idea quieted everyone.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Brodie said slowly. He was doing mental bookwork, shuffling funds from feed and channeling it into vacation homes. Trouble was, the extra funds from ranch profits wouldn’t build half a house. Building was costly.

“I think we need industry that will have people wanting to move in. That gentleman at the town meeting suggested a cabinet shop, but I’m thinking big,” Garrett said.

“Like a factory?” Brodie was suddenly very aware of Danica’s return to the barn. Every eye in the place was pinned on her. At least she wasn’t wearing her shorty shorts today, but she would look sexy as hell in a feed sack.

Unable to stop himself, he threw a look at her over his shoulder. She looked pretty as a picture, for sure.

And pissed.

“Am I not allowed to have any input here?” She slammed the bottle on the table along with a stack of red Solo cups.

“’Course you are, Danica. We want to hear everything you have to say.” Garrett pitched his voice low.

Brodie’s chest rumbled with a growl he never released. “Will you pour us some shots, Danica?”

Her eyes narrowed, and he knew his mistake a split second before the whiskey bottle was upended right over his crotch. The guys hooted with laughter while the liquid drenched his jeans and boxers.

As the final drops dribbled over his lap, she reached across him, her breast brushing his arm as she did, and grabbed a beer. She popped the top.

“How about a beer chaser?” With that, she tipped the can.

Brodie didn’t even move a muscle when she dumped all that alcohol on his lap. No, he sat there and took it because he knew he was guilty of treating her like a waitress instead of a valuable member of their group.

She tossed the empty can into his lap. “Anything else you need, Brodie?”

His chest lifted as he inhaled. When he didn’t reply, she spun on her heel and walked out.

She hadn’t made it ten strides from the barn before he overtook her. She was hauled against his hard—and wet—body, his mouth at her ear.

“Dammit, I’m sorry, darlin’.”

She pushed against his chest to free herself. “What was that all about? Do I really seem too airheaded to contribute to the conversation?”

“Not at all.” He made a grab for her, but she danced away and started walking. The moonlight carved everything into unfamiliar angles. She’d played hide and seek in the dark on the Bell ranch many times in her youth, but she couldn’t make out anything but Brodie.

“I’m going home.”

“No! Wait.” He jogged to her side. Wrapped his hand around her arm.