Ridge (3 page)

This time the slight smile that edged up the corner of his mouth didn’t feel as odd. Maybe he could get used to this.

He took the wrench and dug back into the repair. She stood hip to hip with him, talking as he worked. Her father wanted to discuss letting some of his horses graze a certain plot of Calhoun land. As they’d always been friends, Buck was sure to agree. Any of the Calhouns would, but as oldest, Buck had taken over most of the business end of the ranch.

Kashley’s talk turned to her brother and what a gigolo he was. When she related her mother’s words that he’d probably caught a disease, Ridge threw his head back and laughed.

The noise startled him. He cut himself off mid-laugh, the sound ending abruptly. He stared into Kashley’s eyes. “Thanks for coming up, Kash. I haven’t laughed in… Well a long time.”

She nodded as if she knew, and then went to the toolbox and located the exact tool he needed to do the job.

* * * * *

Kashley ran her hands down either side of the horse’s fetlock, cooing to it as she did. The animal was accustomed to her daily check and remained still for her. When she finished, she stood and patted the mare’s neck. “Good girl, Princess. All clear.”

Princess nudged her pocket, where she knew Kashley kept the treats. With a laugh, she came out with a baby carrot, and the horse plucked it from her hand. “You’re such a dainty eater. Now this guy…” She moved to the next horse stall and peered at the feisty gelding there. Thor had kicked and bitten Kashley, but he was also prone to injuries that she caught and tended to during her daily rounds, and she liked to think he had a love-hate relationship with her.

He loved her help and baby carrots. Hated her touching him.

He gave her the side-eye as Kashley slowly approached the animal. He stomped in warning. She spoke low and reached out to stroke his neck. Princess snorted as if telling him off, but Thor wasn’t a horse to care. He tossed his head and stomped again.

Kashley didn’t waste time schmoozing Thor. She dropped into a crouch to feel his legs. No heat, no tenderness. Her fingers edged over a small bump the size of a grape along his tendon. Concentrating harder, she touched it again. The horse didn’t protest, but that lump wasn’t there yesterday.

After the third time she ran her hand over his fetlock, Thor was through with her. He huffed and he brought his hoof down hard. “No tenderness, I see. Stubborn horse, I’m trying to see if I need to call the vet in or if you have a silly windpuff.” The puffy spot was no more than extra fluid around the tendon sheath, but she’d have to keep an eye on it. Which meant spending more time with Thor. She’d better bring extra carrots next time.

She fed him his treat, keeping her fingers well away, and moved to the next stall. As she inspected the rest of the stock, her mind wandered. Spending a few hours out of the rain with Ridge had revived their friendship—and the ache inside her.

It was apparent he didn’t see her as anything but his buddy. She’d long ago been friend-zoned, and she was going to have to get over it. Too bad her heart hadn’t gotten the memo. Each time he’d looked into her eyes, her pulse pounded.

And her nipples had been so hard that she’d come home and ripped off her bra to massage them. Of course, that led to copping a feel of other—slicker—body parts, and damn, it was no wonder she couldn’t get over the man.

She finished up her round, checked the horses’ feed and water, and then headed out to tend to the hogs. On the front porch, her mother had placed the slop bucket, and Kashley grabbed the brimming pail with care.  Nothing worse than stinky leftovers on her jeans, and she didn’t have time to change before she went into town.

As she approached the hog pen, she breathed shallowly. She wasn’t easily offended by smells, but this was her least favorite job. “Hello, Stinkies,” she said, tipping the bucket over the fence into the trough. There was a waddling stampede, and she stepped back as they pushed their snouts greedily into the trough.

While she rinsed out the pail and put it back on the porch for her momma to find, she thought of Ridge again. Of how good he’d smelled, like soap and a hint of his personal musk that’d long ago been ingrained on her senses. She could pick him out of a crowd with her eyes closed.

Stop. He’s not into you.

She fished in her jeans pocket for her truck keys and crossed to her older model Ford. The Calhouns were Chevy people, and Ridge had often teased her about her vehicle.

Ridge, Ridge, Ridge. Going up there had been a mistake to her poor little heart. He’d seemed to relax in her presence, but she felt more wound up than ever. Her arms ached to twine around him, and the thump of her heart against her ribcage was bad enough, but the throb had sunk low in her core too.

She made an annoyed sound and jumped behind the wheel. All the way into town, her mind made a playground of his physique. So tall—God, the tallness. And his muscles…he was so strong, his shoulders even broader than a year ago.

His jeans hanging low on his hips were a freaking masterpiece, and she’d spent long, pervy minutes staring at his ass while he bent over the tractor. She’d handed him tools when he needed them, their hands brushing more than once, which had sent her into a near frenzy of arousal. She was exhausted from her panting, melting need.

“Have you done this before, Kash? You know what I need before I ask for it.”

She’d folded her lips, fighting the urge to tell him she knew
exactly
what he needed, but simply nodded. “I help my pa a lot, remember?”

When he’d stood back and said, “Try to roll her over,” Kashley’s mind had gone down another path, envisioning them rolling in the hay, in bed—hell, right here on the concrete floor of the outbuilding. But he’d meant to try to start the tractor.

She’d felt his gaze on her as she climbed into the seat in order to reach the key, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he liked what he saw. Or if he noticed she was a woman at all. She’d been skinny as a teen, but lately she’d put on a few pounds. She filled out her clothes better, and other guys seemed to like the effect.

Ugh. Ridge, Ridge, Ridge.
She put the brakes on her mind that couldn’t seem to get past the speedbumps put there by the sight of Ridge’s abs under his tight T-shirt.

The road stretched before her, the sky still gray and threatening. She wanted to get the things she needed and then home quick, so she stomped on the gas. There were plenty of big stores in Tulsa, but she wasn’t a city driver, so she stuck to the outskirts. Especially one small market that carried the items she needed under one roof.

When she parked between two other trucks, she sat there a minute, trying to shake off the spell Ridge had cast over her. She couldn’t walk around in this fog all day or she’d never get anything accomplished.

As soon as she walked into the store, Derry Lander greeted her with a nod and gap-toothed grin. She gave him a smile and hurried to the aisles that carried the items she needed before he cornered her. Derry was the only hazard in coming to the small general store, and sometimes she thought braving the city traffic was better than setting foot within a country mile of the man.

The scuff of his boots sounded as he tailed her through the store. “How’re things up your way, Mizz Kashley?”

She threw him a look over her shoulder. He was harmless, and most likely lonely. As far as she knew, he’d never dated a woman his whole life, and he had to be in his thirties. People said he was a little bit on the simple side, and she liked him fine, but he liked her too much.

“Everything’s running smoothly on the ranch. I just need a few things then I’ll be hurrying home.”

“Oh? You need more of that joint cream for your horses? Just got a new shipment in. You wouldn’t believe the people coming through here lately. I’m having a hard time keeping the place stocked.”

She stopped before a display and plucked the cream he’d mentioned off the shelf, keeping half an ear on the conversation. “Why are you getting so much business lately?”

He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “It’s them Calhouns. Folks know they live ‘round here, and they come up hoping they can sneak a peek at the local celebrities.”

Kashley looked at Derry, surprise flitting through her. “Really?” She hadn’t thought of it, but all of America loved the
Rope ‘n Ride
show.

“Uh-huh.” Derry bobbed his head. “I think I might see if I can order some of them bumper stickers and maybe even T-shirts with the name of the show on ’em. I bet I’ll sell out within a week!”

“I’m sure you would.” She rushed to the next item on her list and added that to her arms. When she got to the women’s care aisle, she paused. Was Derry really going to follow her while she selected a box of tampons?

Yep—he is.
She sighed as he tagged along. While she looked over the stock, he talked.

“People are sayin’ Ridge can’t hold his own this season in the competitions.”

She jerked at the name that was branded on her soul. “What?”

“He’s favoring his leg. Looks to me that it’s his knee.” Derry fished something out of his pocket and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. A toothpick. As he chewed it, he told her all about the rumors he’d heard the previous day when a couple guys had been in to buy sandwich meat and a loaf of bread.

Kashley cut across Derry before he launched into a feature story on their diets. Holding up a hand, she said, “Are you sure he’s favoring a leg? I was with him yesterday, and I didn’t notice anything at all.”

“Yes, Mizz Kashley. You can look at the footage yourself. Go on one of them websites and you’ll find it easy ‘nuff.”

She grabbed a box of tampons, and on a whim, a box of condoms. It was always a good idea to be on the safe side. Just because she didn’t have any prospects lately didn’t mean something might not come up.

Derry made a choking noise, rocking on his heels as she chose the condoms. He tipped his hat and scurried back to his post behind the register at the front door. She looked at the small purple box of ribbed condoms in her hand and stifled a laugh. Who knew that was all it took to get rid of Derry?

She checked out quickly and drove home with her boot locked on the gas pedal. Was Ridge really injured? She didn’t like this rumor at all. As she rushed into the house, she let the screen door slam, wincing when her momma yelled, “Kashley, the door!”

“Sorry, Momma!” She’d been reprimanded for slamming the door since she could get up and walk out of it. She rushed to her bedroom, where she dumped her brown paper bag of purchases and grabbed her computer tablet. It took too long to search for what she wanted—Ridge’s latest ride. A practice run that would set the tone for the upcoming season.

At last, she found it and made a strangled noise as the camera panned in on his rugged features. Her stomach gave a small flutter. It was always odd for her to see her friend on TV, first with the rodeo circuit and recently with the new reality show. She held her breath as he positioned himself on the bronc in the chute, adjusted his grip…

The chute opened and the horse bucked his way to freedom. Dirt flew from its hooves, and Ridge flopped in the saddle, narrowly staying on for two seconds…three…

He lost it and was thrown, landing feet away in the dust. When he scrambled up, it was on one leg.

He didn’t bear weight on the other one.

“Dammit.” She bit her lip and rewound the footage. Now that she looked more closely, she saw why he’d taken the spill in the first place—he couldn’t retain his grip with his knees.

This time she let the video continue to play to the end, and shock hit her system. Ridge hiding his limp as he left the arena. And then stopping in his tracks as a spectator said something to him.

Then Ridge hurled himself at the guy. Sending them both sailing backward, Ridge pinned him flat to the earth and punched him in the eye.

“Oh Ridge,” she whispered as several people dragged him off, including two of his brothers and a cameraman. Just what he needed—more bad press after what that idiot woman Anna had done to him. Had the spectator said something about her? Was that why Ridge had gone off like a loaded weapon? Overall, he ran on an even keel but when he did get mad, look out.

Kashley’s insides shook a little at the thought of what he was facing. She wished he’d confided in her yesterday. He was under a lot of stress, and he didn’t need the added pressure of bad rodeo standings and assholes who wanted to rub salt in his wounds just to see how he’d react.

Eventually, he’d crack.

Worse, she was afraid he’d crack while she wasn’t around to pick up the pieces.

* * * * *

As soon as Ridge walked into the kitchen and a dozen sets of eyes stared up at him from the dinner table, he turned to walk right back out.

Wynonna jumped up and grabbed his arm before he could leave. “Sit and have some of Ma’s good barbecue ribs, Ridge.”

He tugged his arm free of his sister’s hold as gently as he could, but he felt like a bull with a yank on its nose ring. He flicked his gaze to his mother at the head of the table and saw concern etched around her eyes.
Fuck, here it comes. I’ve walked into an episode of Intervention.

Cameras trained on him. He reached across the table and grabbed a half rack of ribs, skipping the tongs and using his hand and uncaring whether or not he said grace. He dropped the meat to his plate before Buck said, “Should we say thanks for our food?”