Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (3 page)

“That’s a hella-good idea. You think some of the residents will want to return?”

“We’re hoping.”

“But the businesses would take a lot to resurrect. There’s nobody in town to even support the Chug-a-Lug.” The bar where the five of them had shared their first celebration of legal drinking age had been flattened.

Brodie shook his head, a weight settling over him again. “There’s got to be a way to bring people back. New prospects.”

“Yeah, but until that happens, the insurance companies are paying people to have their land cleared. We can do that.”

“And I can get the two ranches left standing in the black again. Tomorrow Danica and I are mending fences.”

Garrett’s eyes twinkled.

Brodie reached out and cuffed his ear. “Stop thinking that way about Matt’s sister. She’s the same as always.”

“Not what I hear,” Wydell drawled.

That crawling sensation overtook Brodie again. “Just what have you been hearing?”

“That’s she’s as tall as a model with legs for miles.”

That was true. “But who’s saying it?”

“The whole county. I was thinking we should head up to the Popes’ and pay our respects. I figure if we see her, it’s a bonus.”

Brodie pressed his lips into a line and tried to think of a way to deter his friends from visiting the Popes but couldn’t think of any. They had as much right to be there as he did.

And if Danica took a liking to one of them…

“What about this teacher who wants to put a ring on her finger? Who is he?” He tried to sound cool, but his voice was strained. He wished like hell the guys didn’t know him so well.

“The man talks about her all over town.”

Damn.

“Saying what?”

Garrett raised a shoulder and let it fall. “We haven’t met him, but anyone who knows us knows about Matt…and that means they know Danica. People say things because of the connection.”

Brodie pushed away from the table. “If you’re going to the Popes’, I’ll ride along.”

“Nah, man, we can’t go visiting right now. We’re meeting someone about tearing into a barn.” Garrett stood too and reached for a last cinnamon roll. As he bit into it, he eyed Brodie. “Soon, though.”

Why the hell did Brodie feel so annoyed by that? He walked them to the car and rapped knuckles with each friend before tapping the roof twice in farewell.

He watched the old car move down the driveway, feeling immediately sad. This was a new chapter of his life, one without his brothers living on top of him. It felt strange. For five years, he’d breathed, sweat, and bled for his platoon. Now he was on his own with his demons.

Out in the barn, he spent some time feeding the few horses left on the ranch. If everything worked out in real life as it was in his mind, both ranches would be thriving by spring.

And then?

One step at a time.
He’d been trained to always be prepared for the next step, but out here, he didn’t need to be. He could take it easy. Sit in the porch swing for the rest of the night and listen to the peeper frogs singing their evening hymns.

He could walk up and see Danica.

All day he’d tried to convince himself he was so drawn to her because she was his last link with Matt, but that wasn’t entirely it. She was more.

He shook himself and stroked the fuzzy white star between the horse’s eyes. Brodie couldn’t make out what compelled him to see Danica. Yeah, she was pretty. Gorgeous, actually. And with those legs for miles and waves of dark hair, she was beyond stunning.

He had a feeling she saw too deeply into him, and before long she’d be bugging him to talk about what he’d done in combat. So far his momma had cornered him twice.

Or maybe Danica would leave him be. She was easy to be around, maybe because they’d spent so much time playing as kids. Hell, he’d even skinny-dipped with her. He and Matt had been elementary age and Danica practically a baby. But he couldn’t help but think of skinny-dipping with her now. He tried to shut the door on that thought before it ran out of control, but the wild horses broke free and galloped across the fields of his imagination.

Watching her drop her cutoff shorts over her hips, down her tanned thighs. Perky breasts disappearing beneath the cold spring water that fed the pond.

The hair on his arms stood up, but it had nothing to do with the memory of that cold swimming hole. He had too much time on his hands, and Danica was easy to fill it with. It was natural, when he hadn’t had a girlfriend in too long to remember. She was handy, that was all.

Yeah, go on trying to convince yourself of that.

He gave the horse one final pat and left the barn. When he settled on the porch swing for a long, sleepless night, he stared in the direction of the Popes’ place. And he longed for Danica’s scent on his shirt.

Chapter Three

Watching Brodie set fence posts was going to be the death of her. He worked shirtless, the sun glistening off the sweat on his tanned skin. His back muscles rippled as he hefted the sledgehammer and swung.

Her sex drive felt as if it were on a racetrack, gearing higher and higher. Soon she’d skid out of control and grab his tight buns.

Or bite them.

“Hand me a couple of fork clips.”

She jumped to action and fished in a tool pouch she wore around her hips for the clips. He tacked some barbed wire to the post with a V-shaped metal fastener. The strand wasn’t broken, but they’d spliced together plenty so far. Replacing things cost money they didn’t have, so they were making do.

“I think we have a love match.”

He looked at her, a deep crease between his brows and confusion in his eyes.

She tipped her head in the direction of the cow and bull they’d put together that morning as a trial run. The bull was sniffing around the cow, and with her tail flicked to the side, she looked as wanton as Danica felt.

We poor ladies don’t have a prayer.

Except Brodie definitely wasn’t interested in her. All the perving was totally on her part.

Yes, she was a pervert. While Brodie set posts, she’d thought of ten ways for him to take her. Bent over the tailgate of the truck, hitched on the bumper. Facing him with her legs locked around his hips. Her hands tied behind her back as he pounded into her. And several scenarios of them in the tall grass. Hell, having hayseeds in her crack was well worth it for a few stolen moments with Brodie Bell.

She had his undivided attention at least. He wasn’t sniffing around any females—there weren’t any left.

He followed her gaze to the fence enclosure they’d trapped the cattle in. “They do look cozy.”

“You know that old joke, don’t you?” She waved a fly out of her face and moved down the fence line to the next tilted post. She pushed it upright in the hole and used her boot to kick some of the dirt around it.

He came at her with that swagger that probably was far from nonchalant. He knew damn well what he was doing. His walk, his dark good looks… She couldn’t remember him having the same girlfriend for more than a week straight. What kind of sex life had he had in the service? She wasn’t a dummy—men needed to slake their lust. She imagined hookers and probably a good share of girls between tours.

She had a handful of lovers notched on her leather belt too. Including that one-night stand with Wayne, the teacher in the next town. He kept texting and calling her, but she hadn’t seen him a second time. It wasn’t that the sex was terrible. She’d left his house very satisfied. And the conversation wasn’t half-bad.

Yet she’d avoided more contact with him.

“What’s the joke?” Brodie was asking.

She glanced back at the cattle. The cow trotted away with the bull in hot pursuit. Brodie swung around to watch too, his arm hooked around the post. They stood inches apart. If she leaned in, she could lick the bead of sweat on his tanned neck.

“A country boy and girl are standing in the field, watching the bull mount the cow. The boy says, ‘Man, I wish I could be doing that right now.’ And the girl says, ‘You can go ahead and try. It’s your cow. But I don’t think the bull will like it.’”

Brodie tossed his head back and laughed. Laugh lines bracketed his hard lips and cut paths up to the corner of each eye. “What would your pa say if he heard you tell dirty jokes about cattle?”

“I’m not sure. I never told him one.” She watched him laugh for thirty full seconds. Then it hit her—he didn’t think of her as a woman at all. To him, she was a child. Matt’s baby sister, tagging along wherever they went because she didn’t have a playmate of her own.

Irritated, she twisted away. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the bull taking the cow.

Brodie took up the sledge and rapped the top of the post five times to set it in the earth. The barbed wire was still attached but sagging. He snipped it and wrapped the ends together with fence pliers to tighten it.

She stared down the row. “Only two miles to go.”

“We’ve got the time.”

“Nothing better to do.” Her words sounded loaded even to her ears.

His glance was sharp, the furrow between his brows again. “How do you occupy your time?”

“Besides chores, you mean?”

He nodded.

“College courses online.”

“Yeah? What’re you going for?”

“Agricultural studies.”

He made a noise of appreciation, which warmed her all over. Nothing sexier than a man who saw she had a mind, not just a nice ass in a pair of Levis. “So you want to ranch?”

She met his gaze. “It’s my life. What else would I do?”

He raised a shoulder in a half shrug and continued to the next post. “Lots of things you could do, Danica.”

Her name on his lips sounded far too sweet to her hungry ears.

“The military encourages us vets to go to school.”

“Are you going to?”

“Dunno. Depends.”

“On?” She swiped an errant lock of hair off her face, and he dragged his gaze over her.

“Whether or not we can get these ranches going again.”

“If not?”

“I’ll have to rethink everything. But I don’t want to leave Los Vista.”

She knew the feeling. After the storms, she’d stood along with the rest of the town, staring at the destruction and the loss of so many dreams. “I love this town. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” Her voice was strangely choked.

“You all right?” He scanned her face as if analyzing her emotional well-being. The moment wasn’t unpleasant but it made her feel funny, as if he could look too deeply and see the woman inside who was broken after losing her brother and her town. Not to mention her parents who were so devastated by grief she could barely get them to eat or respond to her.

“I’m okay.”

Brodie gave a nod. “Best get on then.”

“Looks as if we might have a calf come spring.” She waved toward the animals getting their happy on.

He stopped what he was doing to watch without a hint of embarrassment. “Ooh, Bessie, whattaya say we shake things up tonight?”

She laughed at the commentary. “Get on with it, Jack. I’ve got fifty more pounds of grass to eat today if you like my hips nice and wide.”

Brodie pressed close to her, bringing the scents of a hardworking man. Not unpleasant by far. Her nipples hardened into tight buds. Unable to stop herself, she slid an arm behind his back, feeling the warm heat of his muscled spine. He slipped his arm around her too.

“Damn, Bess, you’re tight.”

A thrill ran through her at the odd dirty talk. “And you’re packing some serious heat, Jack.”

Laughing, Brodie looked down into her eyes just a few inches below his.
If only…

He snaked his hand up her back and wrapped her ponytail around his fist. With a swift jerk, he pulled. She squealed. She lunged for him and missed him by inches as he danced away.

Growling, she threw a playful punch, and it glanced off his arm. “Ow!” She cradled her hand against the pain rocketing upward.

“Shit. Didn’t your brother teach you not to punch anything hard? You should always aim for soft spots.”

“I don’t see any soft spots on your whole body.”

His jaw fell open, and he shut it with a snap. If her fingers didn’t hurt so much, she’d probably laugh at leaving him speechless. She noted his chest puff out in pride, though.

He should preen a little—his body was perfection and he’d worked hard for it. She could only imagine the glory in his pants—

“Let me see.” He cradled her fist on his palm and gently unfolded her fingers. In the pen, the cow gave a low
mooo
as the bull sealed the deal.

Brodie skimmed her fingers with the roughened pads of his own. “Can you move them?”

“Yes.” She wanted to tell him she wasn’t injured, but his touch felt too good. Now if only she could find a way to get him to touch her breasts…

Damn, she really was a perv. But he brought out an animalistic side of her and she had no idea how to stop it from surfacing. Or even if she wanted to.

He leaned so close the brim of his hat bumped hers. Still, he didn’t move away, only stared down at her hand captured in his. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said.

“You didn’t make me punch you.”

“But I pulled your hair.”

“Yes, you did.” She gave him a very annoyed look, and he laughed.

“We should get to work.”

“Will you come up to the house for lunch?” she asked.

He released her hand and put five paces between them. “Nah, Momma’s got grub on for me. But thank you. Let’s set these last five posts.”

She rubbed her knuckles with her other hand, aware of the warmth lingering from his touch. Damn, she wanted him, Matt’s best friend or not. Her body was a frantic cheerleader jumping up and down for him.

If he was going to think of her as a kid, maybe she should act like one. “Race ya to the next post.”

For a moment she didn’t believe he’d take the bait. He scuffed a boot over the ground. “Go!”

He got a head start, which made her howl at the injustice. And though his legs were a smidgeon longer, she was quick. She reached the goal at the same moment he did. He blinked at her for a second and then picked her up and set her down a foot behind the post.

“I won,” he teased.

“You cheated.”

“You didn’t say anything about not cheating.”

She pinched his nose—hard. He yelled and ducked away from her. She pursued him, and he tucked and rolled to escape her. She tumbled with him, fetching up by the post. When they both sat laughing, she couldn’t stop staring at him.

Right now, she didn’t detect the hard edge of pain he wore. He might be a carefree seventeen-year-old again. After a few seconds, the happiness in his eyes cooled, replaced by the devastation once more. She longed to reach out and comfort him. He’d come home to heal, but he was too busy making sure she was okay to worry about himself.

Beautiful, stubborn man. Guess I’ll have to take care of him
.

* * * * *

Watching Danica on horseback was a poetry he’d never be able to recite. She twisted in the saddle, searching for Crow. Her hat was low against the sun, her dark hair in long, free waves down her straight back. Her bare arms were tense as she reined in her horse.

God, she was strong and lovely. A real steel cowgirl.

And she had the same grit her brother did. While Matt had known how to lead men, Danica knew cattle. She spotted a wayward animal and sent Crow after it. The dog nipped at the cow’s heels and it trotted back to the herd.

Brodie circled, never letting her leave his sight. Matt hadn’t asked him to look after his little sister—he didn’t need to. They were brothers in arms, their bond was forged in war. Danica hadn’t battled with them, but she was Matt’s blood, and she possessed the same steely disposition he had.

Part of him wished they were finished with the fence. Working so close to her was one hell of a strain, especially sporting a partial woody for hours on end.

He whistled, and Crow raced back to help. Brodie shook his head. Danica laughed as she danced her horse close enough to yell to Brodie. “When Crow runs cattle, he forgets he’s old.”

“I see that.” It felt good to be in the saddle, surrounded by the animals and land. This was all he’d dreamed of in combat—the loamy field and a hard day’s work. Of falling into bed at night with a sweet country girl in his arms.

Unfortunately he was living in a town that had about ten women residents, all too young, too old, or too ornery to start over. Except Danica.

She trotted ahead of him, giving him a tormenting view of her round ass bouncing in her saddle. Hell, he really needed to get a grip.

For over an hour they drove his cattle up to a spot on the Popes’ land. Tomorrow they’d do the same with her cattle. Not to mention the miles of fence that still needed repair. There was no getting away from the sexy-as-sin woman. That meant he had to think of her differently.

He pictured the annoying girl who’d tagged behind him and Matt through the countryside. When they’d gotten on their horses to ride into town to spend a buck on a root beer, she’d trailed half a mile behind on her pony.

He pictured her ready for her first high school dance, hair in a long braid, her teeth encased in metal. She’d had her heart broken by a boy, and Matt had rallied all the guys to put the fear of Jesus into the kid.

The cattle spotted the wide open space and ran for it. Danica slowed, and Brodie sidled up beside her. She shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand. The action brought her breasts forward, and he swam in very unbrotherly feelings for a full minute.

“There they go. Three hundred give or take a few couples in their motel rooms.”

He laughed. She’d been calling the small corrals they’d set up the “Los Vista Motel”. She’d always had a great imagination.

His imagination wasn’t lacking either. He envisioned her roped to his four-poster bed. Over hay bales, in the back of his truck, and under the big Texas sky.

She tipped her head back to look at the sun. “Not quite lunchtime but I’m thirsty. Wanna go up to the house with me?”

The idea of going into the Popes’ house and seeing her parents just sitting there in pain gave him a crawling feeling. His chest tightened, and he automatically started counting. “I’ve got a canteen here.” He dug for it in his saddlebag. He opened the cap for her, and she reached for it. Their fingers brushed as she took the worn canteen.

When she brought it to her full, pink lips, he had to look away. His Wranglers tightened so much he feared his cock would strangle.

Once she lowered the canteen, she examined it. “Looks as if this has seen a rough life.”

“Yeah, I carried it with me these past five years.”

She turned it over to where a divot depressed the metal. “Did you use it as a shield?”

“Bullet ricochet.” He heard the shots again. So many shots.
Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four.

She was staring at him, a soft look in her eyes.

All at once he snapped back to the present. His ears were filled with the lowing of cattle, and he was in the saddle again, far from combat.