Only Hers (12 page)

One broad shoulder leaned against the stall door. “You didn’t answer my question?”

His deep voice did strange things to her heart rate. “Don’t you have work to do?”

He did, but at the moment he was oddly content to stay where he was. Shannon had a nice little backside. “You haven’t chosen your lovers very well if not one of them could make you concentrate just on him.”

The derision in his voice propelled her to her feet. “Oh, and I suppose your lovers wouldn’t mind if they were on a roller coaster.”

“High, hot, and wild. Why would they?”

Her body heated from one word to the next. She only had one defense. “And probably just as fast.”

His darkly handsome face leaned within an inch of hers. “Keep pushing me and you’re liable to find out the answer for yourself.”

She staggered back. Her mouth felt bone dry. Her skin tight. “I . . . I. . . .” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what she wanted to say. Worse, she didn’t know if she wanted Matt to carry out his threat or leave her alone.

The sensual gaze left his eyes as quickly as it had come. “What did Cleve fix today for lunch?”

“B-beef stew.”

Matt almost smiled. Better and better. If Cleve had fixed stew it meant he didn’t plan to cook anything else for lunch until it was all gone. That could last a couple of days to a week.

“Octavia was concerned that you hadn’t had lunch. I’ll tell her you ate with the boys.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You just said Cleve had beef stew.”

“I did, but I didn’t eat.” Shannon stared down at her feet. “I wanted to get a bit more work done before I stopped for lunch.”

Matt wanted to shake her. Why couldn’t she act the way she was supposed to? She didn’t appear a bit concerned that she had straw in her hair or that her jeans and shirt were dirt-smeared. He had too much to do to try to figure Shannon out. “Go in the house and eat.”

Her head lifted. “I’d like to finish this first.” She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow. “I’m a little behind.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

A glance at Matt’s taut features told her arguing was useless and potentially dangerous. Not danger to her body, but danger to her emotions. Her feelings were too chaotic to risk another confrontation.

It was just her luck that Wade’s nephew was the most sensually handsome man she had ever met. If that wasn’t enough, something within her yearned to see him smile, to make him happy. She didn’t know if it was her instincts as a nurse or as a woman.

He wouldn’t appreciate either.

Stiff-backed, she walked past Matt. She had so wanted to impress him and she had failed. The thought had barely registered in her mind before her chin lifted. The day wasn’t over. Her pace picked up as she hurried into the house.

“I saw you coming across the yard.” Octavia set a plate on the table. “Chicken salad all right?”

Shannon grinned. “I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”

“Better not let Matt or the boys hear you say that.” The older woman chuckled. “Go on and wash up.”

Shannon glanced down at her soiled jeans and shirt. “I don’t imagine I have time to change clothes.”

“Just pretend you’ve been gardening.”

Shaking her head at the housekeeper, Shannon quickly washed, returned to the table and said grace. The first bite of salad was delicious. “It’s a wonder Matt doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds.”

“That boy barely eats sometimes,” Octavia sniffed as she took a seat.

“Why? Is something wrong?” The words tumbled out of Shannon’s mouth before she could stop them. “Forgive me, I have no right to pry into Matt’s personal business.”

“You didn’t ask to be nosy. I know you care about him.”

Sooty black lashes flew upward. Sherry-brown eyes widened.

Octavia patted Shannon’s fluttering hand. “It’s all right, child. Nurses are caring people.”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she concentrated on quickly eating lunch.

“Slow down or you’re gonna choke,” the housekeeper warned.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get back and finish.” Draining her glass of iced tea, she stood and took her empty plate to the sink.

“I’ll get that.” Octavia took the plate out of Shannon’s hand. “How far did you get?”

She made a face. “Only half through cleaning the stalls.”

Black eyes rounded, Octavia grinned. “I knew you had it in you.”

Shannon frowned. “Didn’t you hear me? I still have to do the rest of the stalls, polish the tack, and clear the brush before I’m through for the day.”

Leaving the dishes in the sink, Octavia faced the puzzled woman. “Did Matt give you a timetable or just tell you what he wanted you to do?”

“Just what he wanted me to do, but I assumed—” She stopped short as she said the taboo word in nursing. No one
assumed.
You went on facts. Period. If you didn’t
understand, you asked. A patient’s life necessitated you make the correct decision based on fact not assumption.

“Depending on the experience of the person, cleaning those stalls can take anywhere from six to seven hours. Matt knows that.” She chuckled. “That’s why he choked on his coffee when you asked him what else he wanted you to do after you finished.”

“He didn’t expect me to finish, did he?”

“I told you he could be tricky.”

“The rat! I told him I had skipped lunch to try and finish,” Shannon railed. “He could have said something.”

“I don’t think Matt exactly knows what to say to you.”

Shannon’s gaze narrowed in on the housekeeper. “What are you talking about?”

For a moment Shannon thought Octavia was going to sidestep the question as she had done before. “Matt’s opinion of women, especially beautiful women, isn’t the best. Can’t say I blame him after what he went through with that woman. Never thought I’d see the day he’d meet one halfway, the way he has Victoria.”

“Victoria?” The pang Shannon felt wasn’t jealousy, she argued with herself. It wasn’t.

“Victoria Taggart. Married to Matt’s older brother.” Octavia smiled. “Those two are so much in love they glow. Even a cynic like Matt had to admit Victoria’s crazy about Kane. His size doesn’t intimidate her a bit.”

“Because I worked the eleven-to-seven shift I never met any of the family members. But I heard a lot. Matt might have set the women’s hearts aflutter, but they were in awe of Kane and so were the doctors,” Shannon recalled.

“That’s Kane,” Octavia said proudly.

“Even after Wade was discharged he talked mostly about the ranch and Matt. His uncle was worried about him.”

“He wanted for Matt what Kane has with Victoria,” Octavia said softly.

“That might take a miracle.”

“Or the right woman.”

Shannon bit her lower lip. “I guess I better get back to work. Thanks for lunch.” Shannon escaped to the barn.

Her cheeks still burning, she finished scattering the rest of the hay in the stall. Plopping the hat on her head, she picked up the pitchfork and shovel leaning against the wall, placed them in the wheelbarrow, then went into the next stall.

She might feel a healthy dose of attraction toward Matt, but that was all. He was different, a challenge. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to him? Just because she wanted to see him smile didn’t mean she felt anything on a deeper level.

“Staring into space won’t get the job done.”

Letting the wheelbarrow drop, she turned to Cleve. “How was the beef stew?”

Bushy eyebrows lifted. “Filling.”

“They’re lucky to get it with all the work you do.” Picking up the shovel, she began cleaning the stall.

“Forgot your gloves.”

Propping the shovel against her leg, she put on the gloves and went back to work.

“You got good wrist action and swing.”

Shannon smiled. “Didn’t think I’d last the day, huh?”

“Day ain’t over yet,” he tossed back. “By the way, it’s easier scattering the hay if you use the pitchfork.”

Laughing, Shannon glanced over her shoulder and watched him walk away. This morning Cleve had pointed out the wheelbarrow, pitchfork, and shovel, then showed her where to dump the refuse. His battered straw hat jerked toward the loft where the baled hay was stored.

“How do I get it down?”

With a deadpan expression on his grizzled face he had said, “With your hands.”

When the time came for her actually to get a bale of hay down from the loft, she saw Cleve standing nearby currying one of the horses she had brought back into the barn. He’d probably deny it to the last, but she had a
feeling he had watched her take every cautious step upward.

Trying to move the hay was awkward; lifting it would have been impossible. So, she took a chapter from her nursing training. She rolled it off the loft.

The hay hit the barn floor with a solid thud. Cleve looked from the broken hay bale to her standing with her hands on her hips.

“I used my hands just like you told me,” Shannon yelled.

“See that you don’t waste any of that hay,” Cleve admonished and left.

Shaking her head at the memory, Shannon went back to work. She liked the crusty old man. He didn’t give her an inch, but she had the notion it wasn’t because she was a woman. Clearly anyone who knew nothing about ranching was next to worthless. Before her three weeks of vacation was over, she was going to learn plenty.

“All finished. Ready to come see?”

Matt looked up from the belly of the tractor. Shannon was grinning from ear to ear. Her hair was pulled up on the top of her head by a rubber band, and she had managed to collect more straw and dirt all over her. Somehow she still managed to look beautiful.

He returned his attention to repairing the clutch. The sun had gone down an hour ago. He had spent too many hours repairing the thing. He wasn’t in the mood to see Shannon gloating.

“Nope.”

“Don’t you want to see if the barn is up to your high standards?” she questioned, the cheery note in her voice scraping on his nerve endings like fingernails on a chalk board.

Callused hands closed more securely around the wrench. “Doesn’t take a genius to muck out stalls.”

“How about what you’re doing?”

His head snapped up. Black eyes glittered. “Meaning?”

She had the grace to flush. “It’s just that I’ve been seeing you working on this thing when I take the wheelbarrow out. How is it coming?”

“It’s not.” Giving her his back, he returned to tightening the bolt.

“Is there anything I could do to help? Like hold something?”

Matt gave the wrench one last yank, then turned his full attention on Shannon. “As a matter of fact there is.”

“Yes?” she answered eagerly.

“Let me work in peace.”

Shannon’s expression faltered. “Oh.”

Matt pushed away the twinge of guilt he felt at her shattered look. Shannon played the game better than most, but it was still that, a game where the woman walked away with everything, leaving a man nothing, not even the remnants of his pride.

He’d thought his ex-wife was the most beautiful, the most perfect woman he had ever met. He’d bragged to anyone who stood still long enough to listen how wonderful she was. He’d worked two jobs during the week and on weekends had followed the rodeo circuit to give her all the things she asked for.

She kept their apartment clean, meals on the table, and the sheets hot. She was a very inventive and tireless sexual partner. His grip on the wrench tightened. There was only one problem: she didn’t mind whose bed she happened to find herself in . . . as long as the man in it had money. Once his popularity and his ranking started to decline, so had his wife’s interest. The money problems that had ensued hadn’t helped.

They had their disagreements when money had gotten tight, but he never suspected her infidelity. He had just worked harder to get his concentration level back up where he could finish ahead and stop his downward spiral in ranking as a calf roper.

He had been a fool going on blind faith and a stupid emotion called love. Never again. He chose honest lust and
women who made no demands. Those who tried were left talking to thin air. He would never allow another woman to make a fool out of him. Never.

If he was a little hard on Shannon, she’d just have to learn that he couldn’t be swayed and look for an easier mark.

“He’s
so
rude!” Shannon said, the moment she entered the kitchen and saw Octavia. “All I did was ask him about that monstrosity he’s been working on.”

“That monstrosity is a top-of-the-line tractor that cost in the neighborhood of eighty thousand dollars. Without it working, Matt can’t finish plowing the early crop of corn and he can’t fertilize the alfalfa in the hay meadow for the cows’ winter feed,” Octavia explained patiently. “Matt’s trying to fix it himself because if he can’t . . . well, what kind of bill do you get when you take your fancy car in?”

“I thought he was . . .” She bit her lower lip. Once again she had assumed.

“Rich,” Octavia accurately finished for her. “Depends on what you call rich. But even a rich person won’t be that way for long if they don’t watch how they spend their money. Especially on a ranch.”

Shannon accepted the housekeeper’s gentle reprimand. No one in the Johnson family had to work; they did so because they enjoyed the challenge. In the early thirties, forties, and fifties when many people were selling their land, her great-grandfather was buying it. The family still owned real estate in downtown St. Louis and on the riverfront.

From an early age she had been taught never to judge someone by the zeroes in their bank account but by their character. Her parents were always cognizant of how blessed they were and aware of the needs of those who were less fortunate.

“I owe you a hug after I’m cleaned up.” Opening the door, Shannon went back outside.

At first she didn’t see him, then she heard a clink from beneath the front of the tractor. Looking underneath, she saw him screwing on a bolt. Not wanting to interrupt him again, she dropped to her knees, took a deep breath and spoke to the top of his dark head, “I’m sorry for that crack earlier. Octavia just explained how important the tractor is to the ranch.”

Not by one movement did he indicate that he had heard her. Or worse that he cared if he had.