Never Trust A Cowboy. Kathleen Eagle

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ don’t use locks. You knock, I’ll answer.” Gladly. No man in his right mind would lock her out. She was a pretty woman trying to pass for plain, and it wasn’t happening. The world owed women like her a clue. She’d get noticed no matter what. “You need any help?”

      She pushed open the door with the edge of a straw laundry basket. “I brought you some bedding. I have a feeling you won’t see Brad before suppertime, and I don’t know what’s here.”

      “Somebody’s clothes. If anyone comes looking, they’re in that box on the bench outside the door.” He nodded toward the floor in front of the dresser, where he’d tossed the sheets he’d stripped off the beds. “I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do with those.”

      “I’ll take care of them.” She peeked into the bathroom. Her hair was clipped up on the back of her head in a jaunty ponytail. “I guess I could spare you some towels. Doesn’t look like the last guy...” She turned and handed him the neatly folded bedding. It smelled like early morning. “I still can’t find my dog,” she said quietly as he set the laundry on the bed.

      “I didn’t see anything on the highway.”

      “You weren’t really looking.”

      “You want me to? I’ve got nothing else to do. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve been on the payroll for about an hour now.”

      “He’s pretty old. Doesn’t usually go far from the house.”

      “You probably don’t want your kids to find him first. How old are they?”

      “My kids?” She gave him a funny look, as if maybe he’d been reading her mail. And then the light went on. “Oh, the play yard. I do some day care. Other people’s kids.”

      “Maybe other people’s kids took your dog.”

      “The kids aren’t here on the weekend. Bingo. Little black terrier. If you see him...” She wagged her finger and chirped, “Bingo is his name-o.”

      “Ain’t much of a singer, but I’m a hell of a whistler.” He reproduced her warble perfectly. “Like that?”

      “He won’t be able to tell us apart.” She smiled. “I’m not a hell of a whistler.”

      He smiled back. “You’re a singer. You can have my whistle for a song. I’ll drive out to the highway and walk the ditches. How’s that?”

      “As you said, you’re on the payroll, but you don’t work for me.” She started for the open door, did an about-face on the threshold and came back. “But it’s a generous offer, and I’ll take you up on it. In return I’ll—” she grabbed the laundry basket by one handle and lifted her shoulder “—owe you one.”

      “Two.” He presented as many fingers. “If one good turn deserves another, I’ll take two towels. If you’re sure you can spare them.”

      “I’ll even throw in a washcloth.”

      * * *

      He came back empty-handed and genuinely relieved. He liked dogs and didn’t want to see her lose hers. He was good at turning on the charm for people no matter what he was feeling, but there was no pretense when it came to dogs. He’d lived with them, worked with them, learned to respect them without exception. Lila Flynn was a dog person. He could be himself with her on that score.

      Plus, she’d brought him clean sheets without him even asking.

      He parked his pickup near the bunkhouse, taking care not to block the view from the door or either of the windows. He had to smile when he noticed the broom and mop leaning against the bench on the little plank porch, along with a bottle of Pine-Sol. His favorite.

      His return didn’t distract her from pinning laundry to the clothesline in her backyard. He watched her from his new front yard, a little below the level of hers. Another nice view. The summer breeze batted blue denim and white cotton around and toyed with Lila’s hair. He enjoyed watching. But if she was still feeling friendly toward him, he would enjoy shooting the breeze with her even more.

      Especially if she’d found her dog.

      “Any luck?” he asked when he reached the clothesline. She shook her head. “I didn’t find anything on the highway.” She paused for a moment. “Guess that is lucky, when you think about it.” He ducked under an assortment of socks and turned so he could see her face. “Maybe he’s off huntin’ rabbits.”

      She didn’t look at him, but she smiled a little.

      Try again, he told himself. “I haven’t been around too many terriers. Maybe not big enough to take down a rabbit.”

      “Size doesn’t matter. Not to a terrier. They’ll take on all comers.” She snapped a wet shirt straight. “So to speak.”

      He was pretty sure she meant to be funny, but her face wasn’t showing it.

      He smiled big. “A little confidence buys a lot of respect. From most comers anyway.”

      “Thanks for your help.” She slid her empty basket across the grass and touch tested a sheet. “Oh, right. Towels.” She headed for another line. “Let me fold these sheets and then I’ll see if they’re dry.”

      He stepped forward to help, and they fell naturally into the two-person task of taking down sheets and folding them, meeting corner to corner, brushing hand to hand.

      “So your dad’s kicking back and letting Brad take over?” Del asked.

      “Take over what?”

      “The cattle operation. Sounds like your brother’s stepping up.”

      “Stepbrother.”

      “Stepping on toes, is he?” He surrendered a smooth sheet to her charge. “Kinda feelin’ my way here. You hire on with a family operation, you like to get a feel for the pecking order before you step into the coop. Don’t wanna slip on anything the first day.”

      She bent to the laundry basket. “You’ll be on the bottom.”

      “And you?”

      “I’m not part of the order. There’s no pecking in my coop.”

      “Good to know.” He unpinned a stiff towel. “Is the bunkhouse part of the peck-free zone?”

      “That’s up to you. Do you have any terrier blood in you?”

      He laughed. “I can sure tell you do.”

      “Here you go.” She selected a pair of blue towels, started to turn them over but paused for a quick nuzzling. “Mmm. Don’t you just love the smell of air-dried laundry?”

      “Mine usually comes from the Laundromat.”

      She straightened suddenly, her attention drawn to something just outside the play yard. “Bingo!” She dropped the towels in the basket, ducked under the clothesline and took off toward a mass of conspicuous greenery. “Bingo?”

      A СКАЧАТЬ