Winning The Cowboy's Heart. Karen RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
shrugged. “Then why didn’t your family appeal?”
“Our family wouldn’t have had enough money to pay for a lawyer.” Heath pulled off his hat and damp strands of dark hair clung to his temples. “Driving cattle farther to reach the Crystal River means herd depletion. Loss of revenue.”
Jared made a sweeping motion with his hand. “How do you have enough money to hire a lawyer now?”
“None of your business.” White appeared around Cole’s clamped lips.
Sierra gave an exasperated huff. “Our attorney’s taking twenty percent.”
“Of the five million you’re suing us for in damages?” Jewel demanded, dragging in air too fast.
“That’s right,” Heath said evenly.
“You’ll never win.” Justin’s boots crunched on the driveway’s gravel as he paced.
Cole stepped in front of Justin, blocking his way, and leaned down so the tips of their noses nearly touched. “Guess we’ll see next month.”
Another silence fell, this one heavy and muffling, like a blanket. Heath shot Jewel an inscrutable look, then waved his hands. “Let’s leave this to the lawyers. For now, we’ll honor our promise to our parents.”
“I didn’t promise nothing,” spat Justin, eyeball to eyeball with Cole.
“Me neither.” Daryl puffed his broad chest.
“Daddy, how come you’re so mad?” Daryl’s little boy, Ned... Nick...no... Noah looked up at his father with a worried frown.
Daryl’s tense expression softened when he glanced down at his child. “I’m not mad.”
“You look mad,” asserted his daughter, whose name started with an E... Emma. “And the Cades are nice. Javi and I are BFFs.” She looped her arm through Javi’s.
“I don’t like girls,” Javi added, the innocent comment diffusing the tension as smiles and muffled snorts circled the group. “But she’s my cousin—her and Noah, right, Pa? More family is always good, isn’t it?”
James studied his son and shook his head. “Guess kids can teach the adults now and again. Let’s go.”
One by one, Jewel watched her family leave, exchanging waves or hugs. Cole, Sierra and Daryl strode away next. Only then did it hit her. She’d be living in enemy territory, around the clock, as the extra ranch hand they needed for an outfit of this size. Sure, her ranch was only five miles away, but it might as well be light years in distance from the family, the only home, she’d ever known.
“Where’s your gear?” Heath asked.
Jewel nodded at her stallion, Bear. His black tail slapped at flies beneath the poplar she’d tied him to. “In the saddlebag.”
Heath cocked his head. “What about the rest?”
“Rest of what?”
“Clothes? Toiletries? Girl stuff...makeup?”
Her face scrunched. “I brought a comb, a toothbrush and toothpaste. Deodorant. Underclothes. I’m assuming you have soap and laundry if my jeans need a scrub.”
“Won’t you want to spiff up every night? Change outfits?”
She scowled at him. “Cowgirls don’t ‘spiff up,’ we dust off. And do I look like I care about outfits? Makeup?”
The intensity of his close stare nearly rocked her back on her boot heels. “Guess I thought, like most women...”
“I’m not most women.”
“I can see that.”
She jammed down the rising sense of not measuring up, untied Bear and led him around. “Where can I stable him?”
“This way.”
She followed Heath to the rear of a well-kept barn. The smell of fresh manure drifted through an open window. Inside the lofted space, they traveled across creaky, straw-littered floorboards. While its finishes were outdated, the water system hand-pumped, the horses appeared well cared for in roomy stalls.
After settling Bear and feeding him his favorite treat—apple-flavored licorice—she threw her arms around his neck. “Don’t be scared, Bear,” she whispered. “This is just temporary.”
He nickered, and she released him to join Heath at the other end of the barn. He waved her into a small room where he’d spread Loveland Hills’ survey map on a desk.
“Here’s where we’re driving cattle today.” He pointed out a spot.
“The calves have all been vaccinated?” At Cade Ranch, they didn’t go to pasture without protection.
“Yesterday.” Heath leaned over to smooth a folded map corner, and his arm brushed hers. The brief touch, in this intimate space, did something funny to her knees, softened them somehow so they dipped slightly.
She propped a hip against the desk to keep her feet under her...to battle the irresponsible urge to lean closer to him. “Us, too. Are they weaned?”
Heath shook his head. “Shots are stressful enough. We don’t separate them.”
“We don’t, either.”
“Huh.”
“Huh.” Their eyes clung for a moment, and she noticed a thin band of black surrounding his brilliant blue irises.
When Heath cleared his throat, she remembered to breathe. “Anyways. I’ll need you ready to go in an hour.”
Jewel peered at their destination, noting the coordinates, the elevation. “We can’t go there.”
Heath frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s your southernmost point...the most exposed to the drought. I bet forage sorghum grows there, right?”
“Some sorghum, but mostly ryegrass.”
“But sorghum is hardier in extreme weather,” she countered. “There’ll be more of it.”
The beginnings of a crease developed between Heath’s eyebrows. “What if there is?”
“We’ve never had a drought this bad. Extreme dry weather causes prussic acid to build up in sorghum grass, which will weaken the cattle. It slows their ability to take in oxygen, might even kill some.”
Heath rubbed the back of his neck. “And you know all this because...”
Outside the office, the horses nickered and shifted in their stalls. “I read. Go to conferences.”
Shock splashed across Heath’s face. “You read about cows.”
One shoulder rose. “Yeah—so?”
“Took you for more of an outdoorsy type than a bookworm.”
“Who says you can’t be both?” Her shoulders shot up, nearly reaching her ears. Why did everyone want to put her in a box? If life was a road, then shouldn’t you be allowed to change lanes? Take detours?
He stared at her for a long moment and nodded. With his vibrant eyes and near-heavenly features, he looked like she imagined an angel would. He had cheekbones and a jaw you could cut glass with, a face any artist would die to sketch—or touch. And those full, expressive lips were parted. “Look, the Lovelands have been driving cattle in this pattern for over a hundred years. We always start here. It’s how my father wants it done.”
“He’s not here. You are.”
A muscle feathered in Heath’s jaw. “And I’m doing it Pa’s way.”
“Don’t you ever just do what you want?”
He stilled, his expression as shuttered