Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den. Carol Finch

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СКАЧАТЬ to fit in, to feel a connection, to be accepted and respected in Buzzard’s Grove.

      So far so good—except for her feud with Devlin Callahan. He was the thorn in her paw, and Sheriff Osborn had all but ordered her to make nice to that hot-tempered rancher.

      Okay, fine, she would apologize for biting off Devlin’s head and insulting him. She could be nice to the man if she really tried. She could also move the big cats’ and bears’ cages farther west to the clump of cottonwood trees, so the overhanging limbs would trap the sounds. Yeah, she could do that this weekend, if she put in double days. The pens were built on skids so she could hook a chain to her car bumper and pull them to different locations.

      Jessica sighed drowsily as she lay sprawled on the sofa. Man, it had been a long week, and it wasn’t over yet. She could use some shut-eye so she would have the energy to tackle the list of weekend chores.

      She nodded off, only to bolt straight up on the sofa when blaring country music rattled the window-panes. Garth Brooks was singing “Ain’t Goin’ Down Till the Sun Comes Up,” and the coyotes and wolves were howling to beat the band.

      “What in blue blazes?” Jessica staggered to her feet and wobbled unsteadily to the window. Darkness had settled over the rolling Oklahoma hills. She could barely make out the glow of miniature red lights just beyond the barbed wire fence that separated her property from Rocking C Ranch.

      It only took a moment to realize Devlin had rigged up his stereo system to counter the sounds of her exotic animals. Swearing, Jessica made a beeline for the back door to determine how her animals were reacting to the earsplitting music. Sure enough, the animals were pacing in their cages. Toucans and cockatoos were flinging themselves against the wire pens in an attempt to escape. The horses were thundering across the pasture to seek refuge in the trees.

      Muttering, Jessica snatched up the phone book, then quickly dialed the number for Rocking C Ranch. Impatiently, she waited for Devil Devlin to answer.

      “Hello,” came a thick, velvety voice that oozed sensuality. Jessica refused to be affected by that seductive voice, because she knew what a jackass the man was.

      “Devlin Callahan, I—”

      “Hold on a sec.”

      A moment later the same voice was back, but Jessica ignored the unwilling tingle that slid through her body. She was mad as a wet hen and she wasn’t about to let this man bedevil her with his sexy bedroom voice. Plus, there was no telling who was in the bedroom with him when she interrupted and was forced to wait for him to finish whatever it was he was doing.

      “Callahan, this is Porter,” she snapped. “Get your fanny over here and pull the plug on the blaring music. Now!”

      “Sorry, darlin’,” he drawled, “but I’m just too tired to get out of bed. I was up at the crack of dawn rounding up cattle.”

      “Tough,” she spluttered angrily. “Your loud music is terrifying my animals!”

      “Now they know how my cattle and sheep feel,” he said unsympathetically.

      “Look, Callahan, I’ll have you know I spent the evening digging a trench so your cattle would have water. Now I’m exhausted and I need sleep.”

      “Thanks, that’s mighty neighborly of you, Porter. Wish you’d done that a couple of months ago so I didn’t have to haul water to my thirsty livestock.”

      “I would have if you had said something,” she replied. “I wasn’t aware that I was causing a problem.”

      “Gee, and I suppose it also escaped your notice that your zoo has been terrifying my livestock, that the cattle you saw grazing the ditches on your way to work this morning were supposed to be in the pasture. Do you know what happens when a motorist slams into a cow, Blondie? Not only does said cow wind up in the deep freeze, but I lose the cow, and her calf dies of starvation. Then I have to shell out money to replenish my herd, not to mention the potential threat of a lawsuit over personal injury.”

      “Well, I—” Jessica couldn’t get another word in edgewise, because Devlin was still running off at the mouth.

      “But I suppose you’re so wrapped up in yourself and your wildlife preservation crusade that you never stopped to think how it affects your nearest neighbor. Did you think of that? Hmm? No? I didn’t think so.

      “As for the honky-tonk music, Porter, my cattle like it dandy fine. It drowns out the racket at your place. If some of your exotics break loose and run scared, be sure to call me. I’ll bring my stun gun and zap them for you.”

      “Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past you to use live ammo. You’re a world-class jerk, Callahan, know that? And here I had convinced myself that I had been too hard on you. I even planned to take pity—”

      “Hey, lady, the last thing I want from you is pity,” he said huffily.

      “Take what you can get.”

      “If I could get you to pack up and leave I’d be the happiest man on the face of the planet. This was a peaceful place to work and live until you and your jungle animals showed up.”

      “That’s it, Callahan! Now you’ve really infuriated me!” Jessica exploded in bad temper.

      “So, what are you gonna do about it, sugar? Come over here and beat the tar out of me?” he goaded her unmercifully.

      “No, I’m calling the sheriff, and he can fine you for disturbing the peace!” she yelled at him.

      “The sheriff refuses to get involved. I know because I asked him to fine you for disturbing my peace. We’ll have to work this out by ourselves. But not to worry, Blondie. Give the country music a week, and I’m sure you and your exotics will be as fond of it as my cattle and sheep are.”

      Before Jessica could give him an earful of her frustration he hung up on her. She stared at the receiver in outrage. She hated for that devilish cowboy to have the last word. But she supposed he thought it was fitting, since she had shut the door in his face the previous night.

      Jessica slammed down the phone, stormed upstairs to her bedroom, undressed, then buried herself beneath the quilts and clamped pillows over her ears. It didn’t help. She could hear Allan Jackson belting out the words to “Don’t Rock the Jukebox.” The drumbeat thumped the windowpanes until Jessica was ready to scream in frustration.

      “Damn the man!” she shouted to the world at large.

      “YOU DID WHAT?” Derrick hooted in disbelief.

      “You heard me,” Devlin said over his breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. “I hooked up the stereo and drowned out the uproar caused by those exotic animals.”

      Derrick tossed him a withering glance. “This is your idea of a compromise?”

      “I didn’t get anywhere with the sheriff,” Devlin grumbled. “Porter charmed him to such extremes that Reed thinks she’s God’s gift to humanity. But Reed did convince Porter to cut her pond dam so we don’t have to haul water. She dug the trench last night.”

      “So, to repay her, you hooked up a boom box and blew out her eardrums.”

      Devlin СКАЧАТЬ