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Never Let You Go. Judy ChristenberryЧитать онлайн книгу.

Never Let You Go - Judy Christenberry


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nails were short, clean and unpolished. Working hands, as he’d earlier noted. And sexier than any of the red claws he’d seen on women who thought they were all dolled up. But that smart mouth of hers was going to cause trouble.

      When he got up from the breakfast table, he carried his dishes to the sink. The other two men stared at him, then hurriedly did the same thing. Melissa rewarded them all with a grateful smile.

      “Where do you want me, Miss Abby?” he asked, awaiting instructions from the lady boss.

      “Are you any good at fence repairs?” she asked.

      With a lopsided grin, he said, “I’ve ridden more fence lines than you can imagine.”

      “Great. Why don’t you and Beth ride—”

      “No!” Beth shrieked.

      “No!” Jed said, quieter but just as determined. When Abby stared at him, he added, “I don’t need any help.”

      “It will go faster with the two of you, and it will give you a chance to get to know each other. You can finish the fence on the south pasture by mid-morning, before Barney and Dirk get the herd over there.”

      “You can’t start baling hay by yourself,” Beth protested. “What if something happens?”

      “I’ll take the new cell phone. But I’ve done it before. It’s a boring job, but safe.” Abby stood and stared at the rest of the room. “It’s settled. I’ll see all of you at lunch.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen.

      Barney and Dirk shuffled out the back door. Jed stared at Beth. When she still sat at the table, her lips pressed tightly together, he prodded, “Are you waiting for your manicure? Or are you going to lead the way to the south pasture?”

      “Manicure?” Melissa questioned.

      “He’s teasing me, Missy. Don’t worry about it.” Beth stood and glared at him. “You got gloves?”

      “Yeah. They’re at the bunkhouse.”

      “Go get them and I’ll meet you at the barn.”

      Beth breathed a sigh of relief when Jed left the house.

      “Are you sure the two of you are going to get along?” Melissa asked.

      “No.” Beth tried to paste a smile on her face, knowing her single answer reeked of despair. “I can’t seem to help putting up his back, Missy. I don’t intend to, but he made me so mad—”

      “When?”

      “Out on the porch, before breakfast. I was going to explain, truly, but I blurted out that we’d start at ten and he assumed I was going to go back to bed or something. So I told him we couldn’t start earlier because I had to get a manicure.”

      Melissa laughed. “You’ve never had a manicure. I tried to paint your nails once, and you screamed as if I were torturing you.”

      “Do you think you have to remind me? It was a silly answer, but it was the most decadent thing I could think of.”

      “Well,” Melissa began, putting an arm around Beth’s shoulders, “I think you might need to do some fence-mending of your own, in addition to the real fences, while you’re out there with him this morning.”

      “Yeah,” Beth agreed glumly, and went to fetch her hat and gloves.

      Outside the barn, she selected two horses, one a sturdy, rawboned roan that could easily carry Jed’s big body. For herself, she chose a part Appaloosa mare she’d named Snowdrop. After putting bridles on them, she tied them to the corral fence and went into the barn to fetch the rest of the gear.

      Much to her surprise, she almost ran into Jed in the shadowy interior. He was saddling one of his horses.

      “You don’t need to ride him. I’ve got a horse in the corral for you.”

      “I always ride my own horses.” His no-nonsense response irritated her again.

      Taking a deep breath, she said calmly, “It’s your choice. Me, I wouldn’t work my horse after traveling with him, unless I had to.”

      Without waiting for a response, she moved on to the tack room. Lifting down her saddle and the blan ket that went with it, she turned around to discover Jed standing in the doorway.

      “You’ve got a point,” he said, though she heard the reluctance in his voice. “Okay if I use my own gear?”

      “Of course.” She wasn’t about to let him see that she enjoyed his capitulation. He followed her back into the autumn sunshine and she indicated the roan.

      “That’s Buster. He’s no racehorse, but he has a steady gait and he’s dependable.”

      “Thanks.”

      After throwing the blanket on Snowdrop, she put the saddle in place, then began buckling and cinching.

      “You do that like you were born to it,” Jed offered after watching her.

      “I was nine when we came here to live. Aunt Beulah didn’t waste any time teaching us about ranch life. And she didn’t suffer fools gladly.”

      “Glad to hear it,” Jed returned, saddling Buster.

      Beth almost burst into laughter. If he’d tried, he couldn’t have come closer to the dry retorts that had punctuated Beulah’s long silences.

      It had taken the girls several years to realize what a softy Beulah was beneath that stern exterior. But she wasn’t one to wear her feelings on her sleeve. And she didn’t believe in spoiling children. They received practical gifts on their birthdays. And warm hugs.

      That same behavior was repeated at Christmas.

      Though she wasn’t effusive, Beulah made them feel welcome. She fed them, clothed them, and made sure they attended school. And most important of all, she made it possible for them to stay together.

      So Beth gave no response to Jed’s comment, other than to give him a sunny smile that seemed to surprise him. And that surprise alone was enough to keep her cheerful for a while.

      They’d been riding for an hour. Not in companionable silence, but at least they hadn’t had an argument. Finally Jed decided he should make use of their time together.

      “Tell me why you want to barrel race.”

      She seemed startled by his question.

      He waited, giving her a few minutes to pull herself together.

      “It’s the main event open to women.”

      “Others are opening up. There’s a small circuit only for cowgirls here in Texas.”

      She nodded. “When I first thought of it, I wanted to ride because of the money. It seemed we never had enough. Melissa was dreaming of a dishwasher. Abby talked about wanting to increase our irrigation system. Aunt Beulah didn’t ever indulge herself. I wanted—I wanted a lot of things.” With a sigh, she sent him another smile. “I saw myself in the role of triumphant savior.”

      “And now?”

      “Now, Aunt Beulah is dead, and, much to our surprise, the three of us have a lot of money. Aunt Beulah had put away oil money from earlier years that we didn’t know about. But I want to prove myself, to be the best at something. Melissa, well, you’ve eaten her cooking. She’s a natural-born nester, willing to mother the world. And Abby, she’s an expert on ranching. After working hard all day, she spends her evening reading the ranching magazines, even textbooks on grazing, breeding.”

      He didn’t want to hear this. He’d be a lot better off if he could keep believing she was weak, lazy, selfish, vain. All those things he’d assumed before he’d met her.

      All those things she’d disproved every minute he spent with her. She was beautiful, but seemed unaware of it. A hard


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