Kickin' Up Dust: Operation Cowboy, Book 1 (7 page)

If he could give himself a kick in his own ass, he’d do it.

“Garrett, get me some rope. I’m going in.”

Within seconds he’d fashioned a harness from rope. The guys gripped the end like a tug of war team. The barn foundation wasn’t deep, but he wouldn’t be able to grab anything—at least nothing that wouldn’t give way. So they needed to lower him the few feet, let him get to the dog, and then pull him out.

“Nice and slow, men.” Garrett’s tone was so reminiscent of their last mission, Brodie’s head swam and his stomach clenched again.

He positioned his foot on a wobbly board. It shifted and he chose another. And another. Making slow progress toward the caved-in area where Crow lay. Brodie had to get him out. The animal was far from home.

Behind Brodie, his friends grunted directions to him. But he’d do this alone. He’d gotten Matt out too.

“Crow, old boy.” Somehow the dog was all tangled up with his reunion with Danica. He could nearly feel her long legs wrapped around him as she wet his shoulder with her tears. No matter how they’d left things last night, he was there for her. They were practically family, goddammit.

“A few more feet. Can anybody see a direct path?” he called.

“Left. Left for sure. It looks safest, Brodie.”

He eyed the tilted rafters. The last thing he wanted was to end up suffocating beneath a heavy beam the way Crow had.

A faint noise reached him. He stopped dead, his ears working out the sound beneath the creak of the board he was standing on.

A whimper.

“He’s alive!” His heart surged. Tossing away all caution, he walked the length of the board he was standing on like a tightrope walker. When he reached the end, it tipped precariously and he barely jumped to another before he got his leg broken.

One of the guys whooped. Another called for him to watch himself. The rope around his chest and upper thighs tightened as he reached the dog.

Crow lay pinned beneath a rafter and another board, but his chest was definitely moving up and down. Too fast, though. He had to get him out of there—now.

“I got ya, boy.” A knot put in his chest by Matt and Danica pulled hard. He had to save the dog for her sake—and her parents’. Another blow would likely cripple Mrs. Pope.

When he unclipped a short length of rope from his belt loop, he eased into a kneeling position. Beneath the dog and the wreckage was black space. They were suspended on boards fallen and twisted, but the barn floor was a good six feet down.

Not a lot of distance to fall, but God knew what was down there to fall
on.

Using all his strength and caution, he shifted the beam off the animal. As soon as the weight was free, the dog’s chest heaved.

Crow whimpered, and Brodie made a soothing noise as he slipped the rope around Crow’s body. When he was trussed like a calf in a ravine, Brodie glanced over his shoulder at his friends.

“Grab this!” He tossed. All his practice roping Danica paid off now. Garrett caught the end. They began to pull out Crow, and Brodie very carefully turned to navigate his was across the sea of wreckage to the safety of land.

“Let’s pick up Danica and get the dog to the vet.”

Chapter Five

When Danica spotted the blue Ford rambling up the driveway, she swiped a hand down her face. Damn, she wasn’t in the mood for Matt’s friends right now. She was running on little sleep and the slightest talk of her brother would spark tears.

Better that she greet the guys than her parents, though. They weren’t up to it.

The car stopped in a cloud of dust. Danica pulled off her work gloves and started toward the vehicle, when the back door opened and Brodie unfolded himself.

“Danica.”

Crap.
She wasn’t in the state of mind to discuss what had happened last night—which was nothing. They’d danced and she’d returned to her date. End of story.

Except…

“You look like shit,” she said. His clothes were grubby and looked as if he’d slept in them. Dirt smudged his sharp cheekbone. In the shadows of his hat, his eyes were bloodshot. “How much did you drink?”

“Too much. Or maybe not enough since I’m not still drunk. I need you to get in the car.”

“What?” She looked at Wydell’s grave gaze through the window. “What’s going on?”

Brodie moved a few inches so she could see inside the car. On the seat was a familiar lump of black, typically seen on the front porch directly in the way of where she wanted to step.

“Crow! Oh God, what’s happened to him?”

“Get in and I’ll explain. We’re taking him to town. Wydell’s already phoned the vet.”

She dropped her gloves and rushed toward the car. As she took the seat Brodie had vacated, Garrett climbed out the other door. “I’ll take over your chores. Not enough room for all of us anyway.”

Tears clogged her throat as she settled a hand on her dog’s side. Crow whimpered, and she snatched her fingers back.

“Thanks, Garrett.” Brodie’s deep voice flickered on the edge of her hearing, along with a car door closing. Her mind was too stunned to process the words. Wydell drove back down the driveway and to the main road.

Danica searched out Brodie’s gaze. It almost pained her to look at him for too long. “What happened to Crow?”

“Found him in Garrett’s barn, trapped. He could have internal injuries.” He reached across the dog and took Danica’s fingers. As his warm, callused hand closed around hers, a tear trickled down her cheek. She swiped it away and refused to let another fall.

“What was he doing at the Gentrys’ place?” she asked.

“Dunno.” He chafed her fingers with a light caress that shouldn’t have touched her so deeply. But it did. It was impossible not to compare Brodie’s hands with Wayne’s softer ones. Though the man was an experienced horseman, he wasn’t as rugged as Brodie.

Pulling her hand from his, she stroked her dog. Crow was curled tightly, his eyes squeezed shut, and his breathing was shallow. But he was alive, which was one step toward being okay.

Neither man in the front of the car spoke. It was as if seeing Matt’s dog wounded was akin to seeing the man himself.

Tears threatened, and she dragged in deep breaths to dispel them. The rest of the journey was driven in silence. As soon as they reached the veterinary hospital, Brodie hopped out and strode inside. He came back with a couple people in scrubs pushing a cart.

They got Crow out of the car and onto it, and Danica helplessly watched her family dog being rolled away.

Brodie appeared at her side, and she couldn’t resist the pull of his solid arms. She leaned into him. He held her, his warm hand on her nape grounding her.

Wydell and Boyd surrounded them. “We’re going to walk up to the coffee shop. Can we bring you back something?” Wydell asked.

“Bring a coupla coffees,” Brodie answered in a quiet tone.

She turned her face against his chest for a moment, smelling bar food and whiskey. He hadn’t even changed out of his clothes. She pushed away.

He eyed her warily. “Let’s go inside. There’s bound to be paperwork.”

“Okay.”

Once she’d filled out several forms, Brodie took the clipboard to the window. He spoke with the receptionist for a long minute before pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

She bolted to her feet. “No, Brodie. You don’t have to pay.”

He glanced at her. “We’ll worry about it later.” His tone said differently, though. The stubborn man had no intention of allowing her or her family to pay for whatever care Crow required.

She sank to the hard seat again. Her mind was spinning, and she couldn’t seem to land on any one thought. As Brodie filled the chair—no, overflowed it—beside her, she folded her hands in her lap. Touching him made her synapses snap. Having him near was no good for her peace of mind.

“Glad you made it home okay last night,” he said.

She shot him a look. “Meaning?”

“Why are you so touchy? I spoke plain. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Fine. She’d let it go. “When will we hear about Crow?”

“They’re looking at him now. They’ll tell us as soon as they make some decisions.”

His words fell between them. The idea of Crow needing to be put to sleep made her throat burn. Brodie rested a hand on her knee, and she briefly clasped his fingers. Touching him was too normal for her, and she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. The way he’d barged in and demanded a dance with her last night was totally cocky.

And totally hot.

“So what time did you get in this morning?” His question vibrated with insinuation. She should be pissed off. So why was she leaning toward him?

“What time did you?” she shot back.

“Too damn late.” He pulled his hand off her knee and scrubbed it over his face. The rasping noise of callus on beard only spiked her awareness. While she couldn’t be further from horny, she couldn’t deny she wanted to climb into his lap and curl around him. To take comfort.

Would she do that with Wayne if he were here? The answer was a swift
no.
The man was nice, but…

He wasn’t Brodie.

She peered at him from the corner of her eye. “You rescued Crow?”

He gave a simple nod.

“I guess I’d better thank you, then.”

His mouth softened and his eyes were hot pools of melted chocolate. She wanted to dive in and do backstrokes. “No thanks needed, Danica. I’d do anything for your family.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask,
For my family or for me?
But two vets came out of a door and waved for her and Brodie to follow. Standing on wobbly legs, she sucked in a deep breath in preparation for the worst possible news.

Brodie rested his hand on her spine and led her to the door. His warmth spread through her, and she relaxed a bit. Whatever happened, she had him by her.

* * * * *

Brodie tucked Danica under his arm and handed her a wad of tissues. Her tears were unstoppable now that they’d been told Crow had soft tissue injuries that would heal in time, as well as some cracked ribs, and one had punctured his lung.

She took the whole handful of tissues and pressed them all to her nose at once. His heart surged with protectiveness and fondness as he led her into the waiting room again while they prepped Crow for surgery.

Wydell and Boyd stood as soon as they appeared. Looking anxious, Wydell held out two cups of coffee and Boyd offered a waxed bag that probably contained donuts. Brodie’s stomach turned.

“Just the coffee for me. Thanks.” He took his, and Danica juggled her tissues to accept her cup. Once Brodie had her seated, Boyd passed her the bag of donuts with a soft word.

She blinked at him through tear-wet lashes. “Thank you.” She took out one of the glazed donuts and bit into it, sniffling as she chewed.

Seeing her eat heartened him. She’d always had a great appetite, because hell, she worked as hard as a cowboy. Watching her made him think of those women he’d taken out between tours. He’d spend a fortune on a nice meal, and they’d pick at the food.

Brodie filled in his friends on Crow’s health. They discussed going back into town to start work on one of the lots, but that meant leaving Brodie and Danica without wheels. It was decided they could all take a day off.

Danica lifted the bag in offering to Brodie. “Are you going to eat this?”

“Nah.” He rested a hand on his sickly stomach. “You go on.”

She withdrew the second donut and bit off a huge bite. “I stress eat. I shouldn’t, but they taste so good. And I only had coffee this morning. My parents…” She clamped off the sentence.

Brodie knew things weren’t great at the Popes’ place. And Danica was alone to deal with her parents’ grief as well as her own, on top of running the ranch. He eased his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him. Even with the chair arms between them, he was able to feel her soft curves and body heat. Right now, he’d like to curl around her. Spoon her and sleep.

She leaned her head against his and polished off her donut. When she licked each delectable fingertip, he had to straighten away from her. Either that or haul her into his lap and ravish her.

Boyd picked up a women’s magazine and started reading the latest dish on celebrities. Wydell got into one of his snorting laugh fits, and Danica soon joined them with giggles.

“Are you okay?” she asked, nudging Brodie with her elbow.

“There’s not enough caffeine in the world to stop my head from aching.”

“We could walk down the street to the drugstore.” Her eyes, so close and serious, sent a brand new wave of need though him. This had nothing to do with hormones—she was a beautiful sweetheart of a woman, and he wanted to get closer to her.

He nodded. Standing, he reached for her hand. She gave it to him, clasping fingers. His friends looked pointedly at their joined hands and said they’d wait for news on Crow. Later Brodie would need to end the rumors that would be flying about him and Danica, but right now he didn’t have the energy.

Besides, her hand felt too good in his.

Outside, the sunlight pierced his skull, and he couldn’t bite off his groan in time.

“Serves you right. Why’d you get so drunk?”

He couldn’t tell her she was the reason. That he’d gone out of his goddamn mind seeing her leave with that schoolteacher, knowing they were going to spend the rest of the evening together. Only whiskey had been able to temporarily stop him from thinking about her being in that man’s bed.

He didn’t respond to her question—just opened the door of the drugstore for her. She passed through and went straight to a rack beside the counter where one-dose packets of medicine hung. She plucked off two and set them on the counter.

Arching a brow, he said, “Anything else?”

“Yes.” She chose a pack of mints and added them to the pile. “For you. You smell.”

The cashier eyed them with amusement.

“I suppose Wayne has minty-fresh breath? He probably smells like flowers too, not manure.” He fished out his wallet and grabbed a couple bills to pay for the items.

“Leave Wayne out of this.”

The cashier’s head bounced back and forth between them.

“I always knew you’d choose a guy like him.” He thrust the money at the cashier.

Danica’s eyes widened so the irises swam in an ocean of white. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always picked the wimpy types.”

“
Whaaa—?” Her mouth hung open. But not for long. Her fury was only back-building. “He is not remotely wimpy. He’s actually quite strong.”

“I’m not even going to ask for examples. I don’t give a damn about his attributes. Especially knowing what you two did last night.”

The cashier’s gaze darted back and forth as if she were watching a tennis match. Danica served him up a mouthful of rage with a side of country twang. “It’s none of your business what we did or didn’t do. You’re nothing to me.”

“Nothing?”

She faltered.

He grabbed the bag from the cashier with a nod of thanks and spun for the door, hating his head and stomach at that minute but despising his mouth more. Opening this conversation was like firing on an army when you didn’t have enough ammunition.

Or in this case, enough desire to shoot more stupid, hurt words at Danica. She deserved better.

She stormed out behind him. “Damn you for that, Brodie Bell.”

“You don’t need to. I’m damning myself. I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Matt would knock your teeth out for embarrassing me in front of that cashier.”

“Yeah, he would.” Maybe Brodie wished for that a little. At least he’d be able to shut up and stop himself from saying how badly he wanted Danica. Or how damn jealous he was of Wayne.

He pressed his lips together and held up a hand against further tirade. She gave an angry huff and stalked past him, walking fast down the sidewalk to the vet’s office. When he entered, she was seated between Wydell and Boyd, looking at a magazine with them. But the flush high on her cheeks spoke of her discomposure.

Brodie ripped open the painkiller and stomach medicine packets and chased the handful of pills with cold coffee. How to fix things with his feisty cowgirl?

His big mouth had cancelled any good deeds such as rescuing her dog or bringing Crow in for surgery. Damn, he was an idiot.

* * * * *

Danica lifted the spoon to her mouth, her attention on the TV screen. She stuffed her mouth with kids’ cereal and crunched noisily. Sunday mornings were made for kicking back—after she did ranch chores, of course.

She’d cleaned the stalls and fed and watered cattle. She’d even seen to a calf that was favoring one leg. But she was happy to sit and veg for a little while.

Her dog was improving but needed another night or two in the veterinary hospital. Her parents had expressed worry, but their grief-ravaged faces hadn’t changed much. Danica had assured them Crow would be fine and she’d made them a good dinner last night. Neither had eaten much, and her mother had left the table first. When she’d emerged from the bathroom some time later, her eyes had been red-rimmed.

Danica wished she could lighten their sadness but she’d heard time was key with grief. For now, she was enjoying a spot of peace and relaxation, even if it was with Bugs Bunny.

The Road Runner vanished into a cave, but Wile E. Coyote smashed his face off the rock surface. When he fell backward with birds and stars swirling around his head, a deep laugh sounded behind her.