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Rushing back, she grabbed a pair of denim overalls from a hook. They were Cait’s, and Sky knew she used them for dirty jobs. She slipped into them and quickly joined Rufus and Cooper.
Several tractors and other pieces of equipment were parked in the lean-to. Ru was working on the hay baler, while Cooper squatted and looked at the underbelly of a John Deere.
She knew she was going to have to prove herself. Another thing that irritated her, but she was trying to be nice and get along. A little cooperation on Yates’s part wouldn’t kill him.
“I’ll change this one,” she said.
He stood and they were inches apart. A woodsy outdoor scent tickled her nose and a long-forgotten heat tempted her senses. Golden curls of hair peeped out of the V in his western shirt. He was too close for comfort. Too close without touching…Was she insane? This man hated her and she’d do well to remember that.
“By all means.”
Cooper tried not to look at her in the overalls, but he failed. He didn’t want to notice one thing about her, but her fair, clean skin, devoid of makeup, was a shock. That host of freckles spread across a pert nose was hard to miss, as were the curves of her body outlined by the denim. How did she manage to look sexy in those things?
“What do you put the old oil in?” she asked.
He pointed to a five-gallon bucket and a funnel, but made no move to hand it to her. That wasn’t like him. He helped Cait and Maddie all the time, but with her…
She reached for a crescent wrench from the toolbox on the ground and pulled the bucket forward as if she knew what she was doing. This could be entertaining, he thought, stepping back.
Locating the drain plug on the underside of the cylinder block, she applied the wrench. No luck. The plug was tight with grease and gunk.
The pouring rain hammered the tin roof of the lean-to with a soothing metallic rhythm as she worked on the plug. Suddenly, it popped free and dirty oil squirted everywhere. On the ground. On the tractor. On her.
With a quick reflex, Coop shoved the bucket forward to catch the oil. Oil splattered her face, her overalls and her hair. She looked shocked and he wanted to laugh. He didn’t. Instead he handed her an old rag.
She pushed herself to her feet, wiped her face and then made sure the bucket was still catching the dripping oil.
“I’ll finish,” he offered, for no other reason than to get rid of her.
“I can finish it.” She rubbed oil from her cheek, only managing to smear it. He thought she’d go running to the house, since the girl he’d briefly known wouldn’t get her hands dirty. Had she changed?
He knew she had a child; he’d seen the little girl playing in the yard. But there wasn’t a husband. Seeing her as a mother was a stretch. Seeing her as a responsible, caring woman was a stretch. Seeing her as much of anything besides a social piranha was an even bigger stretch.
And he was being judgmental—like so many people had treated him. He’d sworn he’d never do that. But with her…
“Thank you.” She handed him the rag, and he looked at this woman with the oil-smeared face. Why did he hate her? She really had nothing to do with his situation. She’d only been a bystander.
Keeping up this barrage of anger was eating at him. She was Dane’s daughter, and Coop had to shake whatever was driving him. Taking the rag, he turned and hurried into the barn.
He whistled for Rebel and the horse responded, galloping into the corral, his coat wet. In a matter of minutes, Coop was saddled up and bolted out into rain, needing to put distance between them.
The rain stopped after lunch, but still he didn’t return. He would finish the tractors that evening. Most nights he didn’t sleep, anyway.
He blocked out thoughts of her and concentrated on the ranch. The rain was good for the corn and the hayfields, as long as they didn’t get too much. If that happened, he’d have to figure out some sort of drainage. One way or another, High Five was going to have a successful crop this year.
Old boards tossed into the grass by the side of the main house caught his attention. He dismounted to check them out. They’d probably been blown around by the hurricane that had come through last September.
Squatting, he saw it was an old hand-dug well shaft, abandoned years ago. He picked up the boards. A cow could step in the hole and break a leg. Tomorrow he’d fill it up with dirt. That would be the safest way to avoid any injuries.
He used one of the small boards to scoop out indentation to lay the boards in so the wind couldn’t move them. He then kicked dirt on top with his boot. That would do for now.
Darkness fell like a heavy cloak, the moon hidden beneath its folds. He headed for the barn and rubbed Rebel down and fed him. The dogs whined at him, not liking that he’d left them behind.
Stepping out of the barn, Coop saw the lights were on at the house, but he didn’t turn in that direction. He marched purposefully toward the bunkhouse, his private space.
First, he fed the dogs and played with them for a while. They licked his face and wagged their tails, forgiving easily. He needed to find that emotion somewhere inside him.
His clothes were still damp, so he took a quick shower. Drying off, he heard a knock—no doubt Rufus, bringing supper. Coop grabbed jeans and hopped, skipped and jumped into them as he made his way toward the door. He’d have to tell Ru to stop bringing food. He could cook his own meals.
In the hallway, he shouted, “Come in.”
Sky opened the door, to find the dogs looking at her with an expectant gaze.
She forgot about them as soon as she saw Coop standing in the doorway, buttoning his jeans. And that was all he had on. His blond hair was wet from the shower and tousled across his forehead. Tiny beads of water glistened on his shoulders. A wide span of chest was covered in golden hairs that disappeared into his jeans. Her heart rate kicked into overdrive at the sight of him.
She must have been without a man too long. She wasn’t attracted to Cooper Yates. Was she?
He yanked a T-shirt from a chair and jerked it over his head. The muscles in his arms bulged from the movement. Oh, yeah. That helped to ease the tension. Not.
Focus.
For a split second Sky was caught by the simplicity of the bunkhouse. Years ago the sisters’ teenage curiosity had gotten the best of them, and they’d sneaked in to get a peek at where the cowboys lived. Of course, they were caught, and their father was not pleased. After a stern lecture, they promised never, ever to be so bold or so foolish again. Maddie was the only one who’d paid attention.
The bunkhouse was the same as it had been back then. Hardwood flooring worn by years of cowboys boot-scooting across it. Dark paneled walls. A large living area—kitchen combo highlighted with a huge stone fireplace charred by use. The hallway led to two oversize bedrooms that slept eight cowboys each. A bath separated the rooms.
“Nothing fancy—just a place to live.” Her father had said that many times.
What surprised Sky was the computer sitting on a small desk. And the TV in front of a recliner. All the comforts of home—Cooper’s home.
The warm plate in her hand reminded her she was standing there staring like that teenage girl of long ago. She walked over and set the plate on the homemade wooden table.
“I brought your supper, and for the record, this will be the last time anyone brings you food unless you’re sick. Even if you don’t care about anyone else, please respect my grandmother’s wishes and eat at the house.”
He just stared at her and then said, “You got the oil out of your hair.”
“What? Oh. Yes.” Her hand went to the freshly washed curls around her face. “It boggles my mind the tricks Etta knows to remove stains. I’ve never had my hair washed with Lava soap.”
He just kept staring.
“In case you’re wondering, running away didn’t help a thing. Rufus and I changed the oil and filters in every tractor.”
“No kidding.”
“No kidding,” she shot back.
Silence intruded and she thought it was time for her to leave. She’d said what she’d needed to. But being a true Belle, she could never leave well enough alone. “Are we clear on the meals thing?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She wanted to smack those words back at him, but instead, she turned to walk out the door. Since throwing caution to the wind seemed to be her trademark, she pivoted and said, “I’m not leaving this room until you tell me why you don’t like me.”
He took a step toward her, the green of his eyes overshadowed by some dark emotions. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember? Have I met you before?” She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have forgotten someone like him.
“Yes. Several times.”
Shocked, she gaped at him. “Where? When?”
“The name Everett Coleman ring a bell?”
A sliver of alarm slithered up her spine. “Of course, he was my mother’s fifth husband.”
“Four years ago I was his foreman at the Rocking C Thoroughbred Farms.”
“What?” Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.
“Everett Coleman was the man who framed me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT?”
“While your mother lived at the Rocking C, you came many times to visit, usually with a couple of friends in tow.”
“Yes, but I don’t remember seeing you.” Her voice came out hoarse, and she curled her hands into fists.
“The cowboys and I were hired hands, and beneath you and your friends. You mostly made fun of us and called us names.”
She swallowed a wad of guilt that haunted her from those years—years of rebellion, years of living life on the edge. How did she explain that to him? How did she admit she had been a pampered, spoiled bitch?
Her throat worked but no words came out.
“You and your friends spent the afternoons around the pool in skimpy bikinis, leaving the privacy gate open so the cowboys could see. At night y’all hit the clubs in Fort Worth. One night y’all came in around 3:00 a.m. I was checking a mare that was about to foal. You were trying to put a saddle on Juniper Rose, and I told you no way were you going to ride that horse. You were drunk out of your mind. You gave me a tongue-lashing I won’t soon forget, but I refused to let you ride the horse. You told me to pack my things because I wouldn’t have a job in the morning.”
Sky felt color stain her cheeks. She remembered. Oh, God! She hated going to the Rocking C, but her mother had whined and whined until she’d given in. Sky had always taken friends with her to get through the weekend. And they did what rich girls did best—they partied.
“The next morning Everett said you were leaving that afternoon, and to make myself invisible until then. Ol’ Everett had a plan and nothing was getting in the way of it, including you.” Coop’s eyes bored into her. “I spent six months in a Huntsville prison because of him.”
“I’m sorry. I really am, but I had nothing to do with that.”
“I know,” he admitted, to her surprise. “But women like you and your mother, who drive men to do the unspeakable, rub me the wrong way.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I’m not my mother and I’m not the same woman you met on that ranch.”
His eyes swept over her and a chill ran through her. “You look the same.”
“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow. “My hair is frizzed out. I’m not wearing makeup, and I have oil on my boots and on my jeans. Not to mention I’m broke. I’m hardly that self-centered, tongue-lashing bitch you met.”
“Maybe.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s hard for me to believe you’re Dane’s daughter. Cait and Maddie are so loving and caring. As a boy, I wanted to run away many times, but I stayed and finished high school because of Cait. She never gave up on me. And Maddie…well, she’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.”
“And I’m the bitch.”
His eyes met hers. “If you say so.”
“I don’t.” She straightened her backbone, determined to tell her side. “Motherhood has changed me. Back then I hated all the glitz and glamour of the Rocking C, and I especially disliked my mother’s husband. I suppose I felt if I rebelled enough, Mom would stop insisting that I visit. My life wasn’t as much fun as you might think, but I’m not going to stand here and try to explain my past behavior. I’m sorry for what was done to you by Everett. He’s a scumbag. But hating me is not going to help our situation here at High Five. That’s my concern now.”
Coop unfolded his arms, his eyes still holding hers with that sizzling glare. “You think you can work with an ex-con?”
“Yes.” Her eyes didn’t waver from the challenge in his. She took a step closer. “Cait says this ranch can’t survive without you. We can either see if that’s true or we can make High Five a prosperous operation once again.”
He didn’t move or speak, but the muscles in his arms worked from clenching his hands.
“Cait’s always talking about the bottom line. Well, this is it. We can either be friends or enemies—your choice.” Sky paused and then added, “Ru said I needed to give you a chance. That works both ways. I can’t change the past, but I can make the future better.”
On that, she walked out the door and didn’t bother to close it. Once she reached the edge of the lighted area, she bolted through the darkness. Her lungs tight, she sank to the ground beneath an oak tree.
Life was hell when you had to look at yourself through a two-way mirror and see all your faults and bad habits in living color. Pointed out by a man who had been on the receiving end of her bad behavior. She never dreamed she’d met him before. She’d never…Damn it! She could blame a lot of people, but the only person to blame was herself. Back then her resentment toward her mother had clouded her judgment and her actions. Sky had been out of control, drinking and partying way too much.
Drawing a long breath, she listened to the coyotes in the distance and the crickets chirping. She was wrong. She’d misjudged Cooper because he hadn’t been bowled over by her. That’s what had irritated her. Seeing vanity in herself wasn’t easy.
Cait had always said that one day Sky might have to eat her words about Cooper. She was, and they tasted like a bull nettle going down her throat. Startling. Burning. Awakening.
She glanced up toward the heavens. “If you’re watching, I could use a little help.” Her father had said that when she was grown she would see her faults clearly. They were about as bright as the twinkling stars. She rose to her feet and started toward the house.
Growing up was hell.
COOPER STOOD THERE for five minutes before he closed the door. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but she had a way of triggering his emotions. He didn’t analyze that any further because he didn’t want to know why the woman had such an effect on him. Never in his life had he judged anyone, but with her he couldn’t help himself.
He sat at the table and pushed the plate aside.
Friends or enemies.
His choice.
There was only one way to settle this, the same way he settled every big decision in his life. He never thought of himself as a gambler, but some days a man just had to take a risk.
Jamming a hand into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a quarter. As he flipped it in the air, he called, “Heads.” Catching the coin, he laid it flat on the table and stared at it a long time. “That’s the way it will be.” He blew out a breath. “And God help us all.”
COOPER WOKE UP at 4:00 a.m., as always. He had an internal clock that never failed him. After making coffee, he dressed. The food the redhead had brought still sat on the table. It was ruined now, so he carried it outside and gave it to the dogs. Then he washed the plate and drank two cups of coffee. Ready for the day, he headed for the barn, keeping his mind blank. He refused to think about the redhead.
He walked to the lean-to and crawled onto a tractor with a front-end loader. The open well shaft he’d found yesterday had to be filled. The tractor puttered to life and he could see clearly in the beam of the headlights. An hour later he had the hole filled with sand. He laid the boards back on top and dumped more sand to make them secure. Now he felt sure the problem was solved.
Driving back, he saw a group of wild pigs scurrying away from the tractor. Damn! They could do more damage than good to the pastures.
As he parked the tractor in the lean-to, he knew he couldn’t hold off the morning. And his decision.
A yellow glow already bathed the sky, and soon the sun would burst forth to start another day. A peaceful quiet seemed to prevail before the world awoke. He felt that quiet inside him, urging him on. He headed for the house.
