To Court a Cowgirl (6 page)

“I'm glad you're okay. I mean, other than...” She gestured weakly.

“Yeah.” He spoke softly, his words slightly slurred.

Allie moved forward, but still kept her distance from the bed. She wished him no harm, but he had been so adversarial toward her and her sisters after he'd failed to get part of the Lightning Creek, that she was also having a hard time feeling anything other than regret that he'd been hurt. Seeing him like this did not stir any feelings of warmth or desire for a reunion. Was that why he'd wanted to see her? To rekindle something?

If so, injured or not, he was in for a rude awakening. Allie wasn't about to complicate her life now that she was on the road to straightening it out.

“I just wanted to stop by, let you know I was thinking about you.”

“Appreciate that.”

And then there wasn't a whole lot to say. “Well, I don't want to wear you out. I wish you a speedy recovery.”

“Allie?”

“Yes?”

“I'm going to have trouble covering my part of the medical bills because I'm between jobs.”

Allie's heart dropped. He'd wanted to see her to shake her down?

“I'm sorry to hear that, Kyle.” She made a backward step toward the door. “I'm sure you know that I don't have any money with all of my student loans. Maybe your dad could help you out.”

“Yeah. Uh, he's not in a position to do that.”

And she was? Honest to Pete.

“Sorry. I'm sure the hospital will take payments.”

“I'll need therapy afterward.”

Allie's patience was about to snap. “What do you want, Kyle?”

“It's what I don't want. I don't want to file medical bankruptcy.” His gaze held hers and she searched, trying to find a hint of the guy she'd fallen in love with. Had time changed him so much? Or had she fallen in love with an illusion?

“And...”

“Would you co-sign a loan for me?”

“I'm up to my neck in student loans!”

“If you used that eighty-acre parcel on the far side of the creek as collateral... Not that you'd need collateral. I have some savings to use to make payments until I land a job.”

“Oooh, no...” Allie shook her head. “Uh-uh. I'm not attaching the ranch to a loan.” She'd taken great pains not to do that while funding her education.

“Only part of—”

“No.” At any minute she expected Kyle's heart-rate monitor to top out. If she'd been attached to a monitor, it would already be there. “I'm sorry about your predicament.” But it was not her predicament, no matter how guilty she felt saying no. “The ranch belongs to all of us. I couldn't make a decision like that alone if I wanted to.”

“Will you talk to your sisters?”

“I have to go, Kyle.”

Allie turned and left the room, walking to her car in a haze of anger. She hated not helping people, but Kyle was asking too much.

Yet, she still felt jabbing guilt beneath her anger. Why? What was wrong with her? She'd spent five years of her life supporting this guy, believing in him, and she'd been let down every single time. Wasn't that enough?

* * *

A
FTER
A
LLIE
HAD
driven away, Jason finished dismantling the roof and then took a break before starting on the main structure, which was going to take some time. A couple weeks, maybe, working by hand. He was glad. As Max got healthier, he got more cantankerous and controlling, reminding Jason of a little kid pushing boundaries.

He sat on the tailgate of his truck, drinking from his water bottle and studying the barn wreckage, debating where to start. He honestly did need a hard hat for this part of the job. Part of the structure was still intact and several beams were attached to the top of a standing wall, although their opposite ends rested on the ground. Potential for trouble there. He had no idea how well the upper ends of the beams were attached, or what it would take to bring the standing wall down. He'd find out soon enough.

After stowing his water bottle back in the cooler, he approached his project. In the rubble, he could see old hand tools and gardening implements that had been stored in the building. A beat-up saddle lay in the jumble between two wooden barrels, one of which was now smashed. Dismantling this part of the building was going to feel like a treasure hunt. He wondered how much of the stuff was useful and how much had been stored instead of being thrown away. That was how a lot of valuable antiques had survived until present day, but none of the stuff he could see looked particularly valuable...except for the old bit-and-brace drill sitting just under a fallen beam. He loved bit-and-brace drills—had spent a lot of time as a kid drilling holes in boards his grandfather had given him to keep him busy. Rather than wait the day or two until he'd got to that area by knocking things down, he carefully started picking his way across fallen boards.

Oh, yeah. He bent and picked up the drill. He'd never worked in the construction trade, but his dad collected old tools and he knew a good one when he saw it. The knob at the top was black walnut if he wasn't mistaken. He started back toward safety, the drill in one hand. He'd ask Allie if she wanted to sell it and he'd also let her know that it was worth something before she made the decision.

He was just about to step off the two-by-six he'd been using as a balance beam onto a sturdier-looking fallen beam when he heard an ominous crack. Before he could save himself, the board snapped and his leg plunged down into the jumble of debris, shoving up his pant leg as his shin skidded down the rough surface of a broken board. Shit.

He grimaced as he pulled his leg out of the hole. It stung. Gingerly he made his way to his truck, trying to remember the last time he'd skinned himself up good. When he was a kid on his bike maybe?

Blood had seeped through his jeans by the time he got there. He'd had a lot of injuries over the years, but few of them bled much, if you didn't count getting cleated, or that one time his nose had gotten broken. He was just working his pant leg up over the scrape when he heard the car coming down the road.

Allie. He pushed the pant leg back into place and stood next to his truck, hoping she'd keep going past him. No such luck. She pulled up beside him and rolled down her window.

“Done with the roof I see.”

“Just finished.” He picked up the drill, noticed the blood on his fingers and hoped she didn't. “I found this in the main part of the building.”

“How?”

“Wasn't easy.” Not only that, it'd hurt. He nodded at the tool. “It's got some value to it and I was wondering, if you don't have a sentimental attachment because it was your dad's or something, if I could buy it for my old man.”

“I don't see why not.”

He started to smile, but it stalled out as her gaze dropped and then fixed on his lower leg, where the blood was gluing his pants to his skin. When she brought her gaze back up to his, there was a question in it, and he could see that she didn't expect to have to ask that question out loud.

“I had a mishap while getting the drill.”

“You're the second beat-up guy I've dealt with today.”

“Who was the other?”
And were you responsible?

“My ex. He got into a car wreck.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope.”

“Broken ribs, black eyes. He's hurting, but nothing life-threatening. He was lucky.” She said the words in a way that did not invite further comment. “Do you want to go to the house and clean up your leg, or what?”

Well, yeah, he did. “I don't want to bleed all over your place.”

“Won't be the first time,” she said. She jerked her head toward the passenger side of her car, but he shook his head.

“I can walk a hundred yards.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Walking is easier than getting into your car.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows lifted as she considered his size compared to the space available in her tiny passenger seat. “I guess so. And here I thought that you were going all macho on me.”

“I know,” he said with a half smile. She did tend to think the worst of him and he might have to do something about that.

She waited for him at the gate and then he followed her into the house. She gestured for him to wait in the living room and then walked through the kitchen into the adjoining mudroom. She came back with a plastic bucket of neatly folded terry-cloth towels with gauze pads and athletic tape resting on top. She held out the pail with a small shrug. “Vet bucket. All the towels are clean and bleached. You can get them as bloody as you want.”

“Thanks.”

“I hope you don't mind using the same towels used for animal emergencies, but like I said, they're clean.”

He raised his hand. “No. Honest. I'm good with it. Glad I don't have to make do with wet paper towels.”

‘That was kind of what I was thinking. I usually use duct tape with the animals, but I thought you might be more comfortable with athletic tape.”

A joke. Cool.

She pointed the way to the bathroom and Jason headed down the hall, bucket in hand. He casually glanced back before he opened the door. Allie hadn't moved, but her chin jerked up as he met her gaze. He lifted an eyebrow and then walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Allie Brody had been staring at his ass.

CHAPTER SIX

W
ELL
,
THAT
WAS
the very first time ever she'd been caught ogling a guy's ass and it had happened in her living room.

Allie scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. That's what she got for giving in to temptation. What was it with this guy? Why was he her Kryptonite?

Okay. No big deal. Surely she wasn't the only woman he'd ever caught staring at him, but...this was different. She was his employer. He was her employee. Temporarily, but all the same.

But what it really came down to was that it was Jason Hudson, whom she'd thought of as an arrogant jock and who was turning out to be much more together and pleasant than she'd ever expected.

And attractive. Don't forget attractive.

How could she? He was right there. Being attractive.

She wasn't comfortable being attracted to him because that wasn't part of her go-it-alone-and-be-secure plan. She'd had enough heartache over the past several years. Being alone equaled no more heartache.

Being attracted meant being tempted to not be alone, which in turn tempted heartache.

Allie lifted her chin and headed off for the kitchen, where she went to the sink and poured herself a glass of water. Maybe if she hydrated, she could gain control of her hormones. She took a long drink.

Yes. Better.

Or maybe it was the fact that there were now a couple of walls and a healthy distance between herself and the guy with the great ass.

Allie emptied the glass, then opened the dishwasher and started putting the dishes into the cupboard, resolutely pulling her thoughts away from Jason until she heard the bathroom door open and her nerves jumped. Jason's tread was heavy on her old wood floors and each step made her heart rate speed up just a tiny bit more.

Then the steps stopped.

Allie froze, wondering what he was doing, until he started moving again and she busied herself arranging glasses in the cupboard. Unaware. Unaffected. Yes. That was her.

“I didn't know you painted,” Jason said as he came into the kitchen, carrying the bucket in one hand and the soiled towels in the other. His pant leg was soaked from the knee down, where he'd washed the blood out of it. Just looking at it made Allie feel a little clammy. Wet jeans were never comfortable.

Nor was facing the guy who'd caught her checking him out.

“I don't paint,” she said matter-of-factly. “Not anymore. It was just a...phase.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her in an expression that said he'd like to know more, but wasn't going to ask—probably because of her forbidding expression. “I only used one towel, but I did a number on it. Where should I put it?”

She gestured toward the mudroom and he followed her to the washing machine. She lifted the lid and he dropped the wet, bloody towel inside.

“I'm sure there'll be more to follow,” she said as she closed the lid again.

“Do you have a lot of injuries here?”

“No, but when you have this many animals, stuff happens. If not blood, then mud. Trust me—that washer will have a load in no time.”

“Huh.” He flexed his knee as if testing whether or not his administrations would hold. “Well. I'm good as I'll be. I guess I'll head on back and try not to get hurt.” He pointed to the back door. “Can I go out this way?”

“Of course.”

He paused, his hand on the door handle. “Are you going to dock my pay for this?”

“Not if you don't sue me for having an attractive nuisance on my property.”

“I recall signing a paper releasing you from indemnity if I got hurt.”

“Good call on my part.”

“Looks like it.” He held her gaze and when she didn't say anything more, he turned and headed out the door. After he was safely out of the house, Allie moved to the window to watch him walk to his truck, free to watch his ass all she'd like. She let out a breath as she let the curtain drop.

The house felt empty and as she started toward the kitchen, it seemed to echo
alone, alone, alone
in time with her footsteps.

Alone had been her natural state for the past year, but not one that she particularly welcomed, even though she wasn't certain how to change that without jeopardizing the fragile sense of control she had over her life right now. It was crazy, but even when she was with people she felt alone—probably a holdover from all those years that she pretended everything was okay with her and Kyle when they were not. She'd been the great pretender, with her sisters and her mother. With herself. She'd protected her deep secret, the fact that she was barely holding herself together in the face of the disintegration of both her marriage and the ranch, by erecting barriers. Not letting conversations get too deep, or herself get too close to others. Her sisters had been off in distant places, living their own lives. And she'd been here on the ranch, lying about hers. Lying hadn't turned out well in any respect, so she was determined to be honest with herself this time around.

Truth number one—she wasn't certain that she was well-suited to work in an elementary school, but she was going to give it more time. Truth number two—she was attracted to Jason.

Truth number three...

That was enough truth to deal with right now. Allie paused briefly at the painting Jason had commented on, squinted at it, trying to see it through someone else's eyes. She couldn't do it. She had too much time and emotion tied up in the work to see it as anything except for a piece of herself that she wished wasn't on display.

The phone rang a half hour later as she pulled dinner out of the microwave. She kind of hoped it was a sister, so that she could talk, kind of hoped it wasn't, because her sisters were more watchful of her now. Not a sister. Liz.

“Hey. How are you?” Allie asked, keeping her voice light.

“I'm good. I have a question for you, though.” Liz was making an effort to sound casual, but Allie caught the edge of anxiety in her friend's voice.

“What is it?”

“Do you still need help demolishing that wind-damaged barn?”

There could be only one reason Liz was asking—her son, who'd been causing her a lot of worry of late. “I hired a guy.”

“Oh.”

There was a note in Liz's voice that made Allie cautiously say, “Why do you ask?”

“It's Zach. I, uh, we're having more issues and I'm trying to find something for him to do to keep him focused on something other than not going to the ranch to help his dad.” Liz sighed. “Full disclosure—he tried to get a job in town, but he can't find one. He's angry at his dad and... Allie, I don't know what to do.”

Allie pushed the hair back from her forehead, her heart breaking a little at the pain in her friend's voice. “I, uh, might be able to come up with a few days work,” she said.

“Really?”

The hope in her friend's voice was almost as gut-wrenching as the anxiety. She was committed now. “Yeah. There are some things he can do. There's still a lot to be done with the demolition and if I have Zach on the job it'll go that much faster.”

Then Jason would be gone that much sooner and she'd have fewer opportunities to get caught staring at him. Not that she should be blamed for that. She'd like to find a red-blooded woman who wouldn't stare at him as he was walking away.

“That would be so great.”

“I do need to talk to the guy that's working for me and make sure that he's okay supervising Zach. He didn't sign on for that and, well, you can see—”

“Certainly,” Liz said in a strained voice. “I totally get that. Who is he?”

“Jason Hudson.”

“The football player?”

“Yes.”

It took Liz a moment to digest that. “Maybe that would be good for Zach, working with a guy like Jason. A role model and all that.” She hesitated for a moment, then said, “He was at a party that got raided this weekend. He got away, but a deputy recognized him and called me. When Zach finally got home, he was so out of it—” Her voice broke, and then she said, “It's not the first time, but it's the first time law enforcement was involved...or almost involved.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“I blame Derek. If he'd just act like a freaking father—” Liz broke off abruptly. “I'm sorry. Zach hasn't been the same since his dad left and now that working on the home ranch is no longer an option, his behavior is escalating.”

Allie pressed her fingers to her forehead, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.
It'll only be a week or two
. No need to feel as if she'd swallowed a rock. Zach may not even last more than a couple of days. She hoped he did, for Liz's sake, but there were no guarantees. Of course, Zach may be impressed by the idea of working with Jason and that might keep him coming back to work.

In the end, that was what both Liz and Allie had hung their hopes on.

“But if he's disrespectful to you or Jason, just send him on his way,” Liz said. “This is my problem, not yours. I was just hoping that being able to do something with his hands, to accomplish something, might jar him back to reality...before I lose him for good.”

And how did one say no to that?

One didn't.

* * *

A
LLIE
HAD
ALREADY
left for work by the time Jason arrived at the Lightning Creek on Tuesday morning—probably because he arrived almost forty-five minutes later than usual. It couldn't be helped. He'd had another go-round with his dad about his diet and exercise regimen, which his father followed only when one of his kids was there. He loved his dad, admired many things about the man, but was it too much to ask for a relationship that was more...normal? They had good times, but only when Max felt as if he were in control.

While driving to the Lightning Creek Jason made himself a solemn promise that he would not try to control his children's lives. If he had kids. Right now, he'd settle for simply getting a job. A real one, not a sanity saver such as demolishing a barn, although he had to admit to getting a certain amount of satisfaction from slowly cleaning up the wreckage.

The spring day turned stormy late in the morning, but Jason didn't use the weather as an excuse to head home. Kate had texted to say that Jimmy had stopped by to take Max to the dealership for coffee and man talk, so no worries there—for a while anyway—and Jason didn't feel like kicking around the empty house any more than he felt like having another bout with his dad over health issues. So when the showers came, he hung out in his truck, listening to music and watching the dramatic sky until the rain stopped and he could go back to work.

After spending the majority of his life being part of a team, flying solo day after day was a new experience, and he liked his days alone on the ranch, the wind in his face, rain on his back and all that. But he also enjoyed contact with people and he didn't know how Allie did it, living on the Lightning Creek, without even a dog for companionship. There were some friendly goats, but for the most part, she was alone.

Shut off.

Yeah—that was it. Shut off. In many ways. That, he realized, was his concern for her, if he had a right to be concerned. She seemed to be fighting private battles on many fronts. All by herself, despite having three sisters.

But he was only seeing part of the picture, he reminded himself as he got out of the truck yet again and waded through the wet grass to pick up the bar he'd been using to pry boards off a broken beam. The nail squealed as it came loose from the wet wood and Jason bent down to pick it up and set it in the nail can, now half-full of water. He strained the water out of the can, set it back upright and stared out over the fields. This really was a good life, but it wasn't his life.

His life—or rather his future—was making him antsy, even though it was still early days. After hearing that Brandt had been inundated with applications for the two open offensive coaching jobs, he'd peppered the country with college coaching applications and made calls, but his lack of experience in actual coaching, rather than playing, hurt him. No, it paralyzed him. No one knew if he could coach. No one was beating down his door. Several suggested starting on the high-school level. Jason preferred to skip that step if possible.

Finally, during a particularly heavy downpour that hammered the roof of the truck, Jason pulled out his phone and punched in the number for his contact, and his chief reference at Brandt, his former Offensive Coach.

“Jason. How's your dad?”

“Better. He should have a full recovery.” If he would follow the regimen.

“Good to hear.” Coach cleared his throat. “No word yet. The wheels move slowly, but there are a ton of applicants.”

“Great.”

“A lot of them have decent experience at the college level.”

“Don't tell me to coach high school for a decade or so, okay?” Jason said, doing his best to inject a smile into his voice.

“Heard that, have you? Not bad advice, but no guarantees, either. You might consider moving back down here. Volunteering your time.”

“I've thought about that.” If push came to shove, he'd do it, although he'd have to get some kind of job. San Diego was an expensive city and he wasn't going to chip away at his retirement nest egg. He wasn't going to end up like Pat.

Speaking of which... “The same thing must have happened to Pat.”

“Yeah, but he didn't do himself any favors, either, coming to the interview and acting like a rock star.”

“Yeah?”

Coach snorted. “He was an arrogant jerk.”

“I didn't know.”

“I think he was scared and desperate. I even took a shot at explaining that to the committee, but the damage was done.” He made another disgusted noise, but this one had an edge of emotion to it. “Hard to watch a guy self-destruct like that.”