Kitabı oku: «Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den»
Two brand-new stories in every volume…twice a month!
Duets Vol. #35
Featured authors are Liz Ireland, who creates “sassy characters, snappy dialogue and rip-roaring adventures…” says Romantic Times, and popular historical writer Cheryl Anne Porter, who always delivers “a funny ride—a roller coaster of fun and adventure.”—Romance Communications
Duets Vol. #36
Voted Storyteller of the Year twice by Romantic Times, Silhouette writer Carol Finch “presents her fans with rollicking, wild adventures…and fun from beginning to end.” Also making their Duets debut is the writing team of Selina Sinclair, who writes “a fast-paced, funny and spicy…novel.” —Women’s Fiction Exchange
Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!
Fit to be Tied
Carol Finch
The Lyon’s Den
Selina Sinclair
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Contents
Fit to be Tied
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
The Lyon’s Den
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Fit to be Tied
Carol Finch
“Are you trying to spy on me?” Jessica shrieked
“Uh, calm down a minute, blondie,” Devlin called out from the balcony. “I’m only trying to be neighborly. Let me come in so we can—”
“No!”
“I’m not leaving till we talk, Porter.”
“Then I’m calling the cops, Peeping Tom!”
When he saw her lunge for the phone, Devlin tried to open the door. Unfortunately his foot went through the rotted board on the balcony. Staggering backward, he howled in alarm when the rickety railing gave way behind him.
Devlin cartwheeled across the sloped roof and took a header downward. He landed spread-eagled in a myrtle bush.
“Are you all right?”
Devlin looked up to see Jessica standing on the broken balcony, staring down at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. He lay there, dazzled by the effect of her smile, wishing something besides his clumsiness was the cause of it….
Dear Reader,
I’m delighted to make my debut in Duets! There is nothing I enjoy more than writing romantic comedy, because I firmly believe love and laughter go hand in hand.
Unfortunately, it takes Devlin and Jessica, the hero and heroine of Fit To Be Tied, a while to realize what they’re missing. Devlin is too busy fuming over the fact that his kooky female neighbor has established an exotic animal sanctuary across the fence from his ranch and his cattle are stampeding. He wants Jessica’s squawking, roaring animals gone, pronto. And Jessica along with them! But nobody tells headstrong Jessica what to do—especially not her blustery, domineering neighbor.
The feud festers, but something more complicated and compelling than temper flares between these two spirited individuals. And what could be more confounding than falling in love with someone from the wrong side of the fence, and the opposing side of the feud? Devlin and Jessica are about to find out that love flagrantly disregards boundaries.
I hope Fit To Be Tied brings you a smile and a few hours of reading pleasure.
Enjoy!
Carol Finch
This book is dedicated to my husband Ed and our children—Christie, Jill, Kurt, Jeff and Jon—with much love. And to our grandchildren, Brooklynn, Kennedy and Blake. Hugs and kisses!
1
THIS IS THE LAST STRAW! Devlin Callahan fumed as he buried the needle of the speedometer on his pickup and barreled down the gravel road, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He did not have to put up with this nonsense! And he wasn’t going to, either. He intended to confront this problem the same way he handled every other problem—head-on—even if he had to deal with that female kook who bought the forty acres bordering the west fence of the Rocking C Ranch.
The zoo—as Devlin referred to the menagerie of exotic animals housed next to his cattle and sheep—was a constant disturbance. The zookeeper was about to get an earful, because Devlin had had it up to his eyeballs! He and his brother had spent the whole cursed day on horseback, rounding up frightened cattle and repairing broken fences. Damn it, there was enough to do on the Rocking C without unscheduled roundups.
Devlin hadn’t met his new neighbor, but he disliked her, and her zoo, sight unseen. The frustrated old biddy probably filled the emptiness in her meaningless life by surrounding herself with exotic animals that had no business whatsoever being housed in cattle country.
Slamming on the brake, Devlin skidded sideways in the loose gravel, hung a left, then smirked when the zookeeper’s antiquated two-story farmhouse came into view. The house was screaming for a coat of paint. The yard begged to be spiffed up. Devlin grudgingly admitted that the colorful flowers surrounding the foundation and gushing from the plastic pots on the porch perked up the place, but the old house definitely needed some cosmetic repairs to restore it to its former grandeur.
Of course, the female fruitcake who owned the place probably couldn’t spare the time because she was too busy talking to all those wild animals caged behind her house.
Devlin mentally kicked himself—and not for the first time—because he hadn’t purchased this property when it came up for sale eight months earlier. At the time, Devlin and his brother thought the price of the land was too steep. But Miz Jessica Porter—who was obviously clueless about property value in Oklahoma cattle country—had forked over the dough for her homestead. Now Devlin had a nutty neighbor he didn’t want and a bunch of exotic animals who roared and howled and squawked and drove his livestock through the fences.
He bounded from his pickup and stalked toward the porch. He spied the puddle-jumper sports car that was parked in the driveway. Typical city slicker, he thought. That low-slung car wouldn’t last a year on these rough country roads. Anybody with half a brain knew that. All except Miz Jessica Porter, keeper of the zoo, that is.
Devlin pounded his fist against the door, waited until he ran out of patience—which took all of two seconds—then beat on the door with both fists.
“Porter! Open up! I know you’re in there!” he shouted. “We have to talk! Now!”
His booming voice triggered the high-pitched cry of a peacock. A moose bellowed in the near distance, and a goose honked in chorus. Devlin rolled his eyes in frustration and swore inventively.
A few more seconds passed while unidentified screeches and roars erupted in the near distance. Devlin raised both fists to pound on the door again…and accidentally whacked Miz Jessica on the forehead when she whipped open the door unexpectedly.
His image of a frustrated, middle-aged spinster sporting a hooked nose, beady eyes and pointed chin dissolved when Devlin encountered a woman so astonishingly attractive he wondered if he was staring at some kind of optical illusion.
Eyes the color of a tropical rain forest zeroed in on him. Hair the color of sunbeams glistened around her enchanting face. His gaze dropped to survey an alluring figure that Hugh Hefner would kill to photograph.
Encountering Jessica Porter in the flesh was equivalent to being shot with a stun gun. This was his kooky neighbor? This was the zookeeper? No, couldn’t be. Must be some mistake.
“Porter?” he asked doubtfully.
“Yes. You bellowed, sir?”
Her snippy tone and angry glare assured Devlin that this drop-dead-gorgeous female was no pushover. She met his gaze directly and took a combative stance in the doorway. She assessed his grimy T-shirt, dusty jeans and scuffed boots and frowned in blatant disapproval.
Devlin couldn’t say why she so thoroughly disapproved of him. Could’ve been the fact that he’d pounded on her door, yelled at her, then accidentally konked her on the noggin. Or could’ve been that she didn’t like the looks of a sweaty cowboy who’d spent the day riding the range and shared his horse’s fragrance.
Sophisticated snob, Devlin concluded as he surveyed Jessica’s crimson red silk power suit that shouted expensive. He suspected she had taken one look at his faded work clothes and decided she was entirely too good for him. Well, fine. She didn’t like hardworking cowboys, and he didn’t like prissy debutantes. So they were even.
“I’m Devlin Callahan, your nearest neighbor,” he said abruptly.
“You’re my closest neighbor? How unfortunate for me.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
“That goes double for me, Blondie,” he countered, then glared at her.
Not to be outdone, she glared right back.
“I’m here because your zoo animals spooked my sheep and cattle for the fourth time in two months. You’re gonna have to load up those animals and haul them to a wildlife refuge. As you can plainly see, this is ranch country.”
Her chin shot up and, although the woman was a good eight inches shorter than Devlin, who stood six feet three inches in his riding boots, she still managed to look down her nose at him. How’d she do that?
“For your information, Culligan—”
“Callahan,” he corrected tersely.
“Whatever,” she said, dismissing him as if she had the same regard for him as for a clump of Brussels sprouts. “For your information, I have a license to house and care for my exotic animals. Each animal has its own unique personality and special need. I can communicate with them. I understand them.”
“You talk to your animals?” he asked, then scoffed. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She glared meat cleavers at him. “I’m sure that if you toured my wildlife sanctuary even a man like you would realize that my animals are safely and securely housed and pose no threat whatsoever.”
A man like him? Devlin wasn’t sure what she implied, but her tone of voice alerted him that he had been insulted. “Lady, I don’t care if your animals have rings through their noses and bells on their toes. They are upsetting my livestock, and I want them gone. And you along with them!”
That really must have ticked her off, because she braced her fists on those curvaceous hips, planted her well-shod feet shoulder-width apart, stuck her face in his and stated, “If you don’t approve of living next door to my wildlife sanctuary, then you can pack up and move. I have no intention of budging from this spot, because I like it here, and so do my animals. Furthermore, if you have future complaints, then take them up with the sheriff in Buzzard’s Grove, not that it will do you any good.”
“Look, lady—”
“Jessica Porter. Miss Porter to you, Culligan,” she said in that snippy tone that made Devlin grind his teeth in irritation.
“Here’s the deal, lady. My brother and I run a large cattle and farming operation—”
“And I’m supposed to be impressed?” She gave him another one of those condescending looks. “Sorry to disappoint you, Culligan. Cowboys are a nickel a dozen in this neck of the woods.”
“I don’t give a rip whether or not you’re impressed,” Devlin retorted. Damn—the woman knew exactly which buttons to push! “The point is that this zoo may be fun and games to you, may fill up the endless hours in your lonely, miserable life, but our livestock is our livelihood. Your exotic animals snarl, hoot, howl and growl all hours of the day and night and cause cattle stampedes. I spent the whole livelong day gathering cattle because of your zoo. The problem can be alleviated if you’ll get rid of those menaces.”
She glowered at him good and hard. “Can I help it if your wimpy cattle and timid sheep bolt and run because of an unfamiliar noise? You don’t see my animals leaping fences just because dumb cows moo or sheep baa. My fences and pens are holding up just fine. Obviously your ability to build solid restraining fences is lacking.”
Devlin was getting nowhere fast. Miss Hoity-Toity didn’t want to see his side of the situation, didn’t care that he’d busted his butt on roundup and fence repair.
“Fine,” he muttered in exasperation. “Then you can pay for my time and the expenses, and I won’t complain—as much.”
She scoffed and looked down her nose at him again.
“Your livestock is on the rampage and you want me to pay for the fence repairs? My animals are housed in sturdy pens and cages, surrounded by twelve-feet-tall chain-link fences. It seems to me that I’m not the one with the problem here, Culligan. You are.”
“No, you are the problem!” Devlin snapped, at the end of his patience. He skewered her with a glower. “Snippy, dim-witted city slicker. Go back where you belong and take your zoo with you!”
Her chin went airborne as she squared her shoulders and clenched her fists by her sides. “This is where I belong, the only place I belong. I’m here to stay, so you better get used to the idea!” she said, puffing like a blowfish.
They exchanged significant glares, and Devlin was gearing up for a really terrific rejoinder when she slammed the door in his face.
A goose waddled around the corner of the house, honking in objection to Devlin’s presence. A bear growled in the distance, accompanied by several sounds that Devlin couldn’t identify—none of which sounded friendly. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an alligator living in that oversize pond, waiting to bite off his feet if he dared to stalk around to the back of the house.
Pond, he thought. That was another thing that really irritated him, come to think of it. That fire-breathing female had dammed up the spring-fed stream to form a gigantic pond in her pasture. The dam cut off the flow of water to Rocking C’s stream. During the arid summer months Devlin and his brother had been forced to haul water to cattle in the west pasture and fill stock tanks.
Another major inconvenience he failed to mention to the dragon lady.
Devlin had half a mind to reverse his direction, pound on the front door again and insist that she dig a trench in the pond dam. No, on second thought, he’d take the matter up with Sheriff Osborn. Maybe the dragon lady had a legitimate license to shelter exotic animals, but she certainly didn’t have the right to alter the flow of the stream and deprive Rocking C cattle of water.
Wheeling around, Devlin stalked away. The pesky goose lowered its head and charged after him, nipping and honking at his heels. Devlin ignored the feathered pest, piled into his pickup and revved the engine. He sprayed gravel on the low-slung car as he sped away—and he wouldn’t be the least bit sorry if he accidentally cracked the dragon lady’s windshield with flying rock. It would serve her right for being so stubborn.
Devlin muttered to himself as he roared toward home. His brother had recommended using diplomacy when confronting the neighbor lady. Devlin was pretty sure that wouldn’t have worked any better than his direct, confrontational approach. He had noticed the look of disapproval when Jessica Porter gave him the once-over. Hell, he’d have to have been blind in both eyes not to realize she had no use for him. That woman would not have compromised under any circumstances.
What really baffled Devlin was that, despite his irritation, he found her physically attractive. He’d caught himself staring at her body with male appreciation a couple of times during their heated argument and had to jerk his attention to her face. Which didn’t help a whole lot, because she had a bewitching face, to boot. It was humiliating for a man who usually had to fight off women with a stick to know that he liked what he saw and that Miss High and Mighty Porter behaved as if he didn’t measure up to her lofty standards.
What difference did that make? his smarting pride asked. No way would he be interested in dating Porter, not with their conflict over her exotic animals standing between them. And not that he was the teensiest bit interested, Devlin assured himself. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, okay, maybe for a nanosecond—until she’d opened her sassy mouth and let the wisecracks and zingers fly.
Glancing at his watch, Devlin made tracks toward home. It was his brother’s night to cook, and Derrick got bent out of shape when Devlin was late. The Wednesday night menu at Rocking C was always the same: hamburger patties smothered in cream of mushroom soup, fried potatoes and okra. Devlin would have preferred cooked goose—specifically, the one that had appointed itself as Jessica Porter’s guard dog.
Devlin glanced at the cattle herd grazing in the pasture, wondering if he’d wake up in the morning to another stampede. Jessica Porter’s coyotes would probably be howling at the moon, causing the rest of the zoo to join in chorus. The cattle would be to hell and gone by sunrise, Devlin predicted.
He sighed heavily. Tomorrow would undoubtedly test his patience once again.
“STUBBORN, PIGHEADED COWBOY,” Jessica muttered as she doffed her business suit, then snatched up her jeans and T-shirt.
The very last thing she’d needed, after dealing with an unreasonable, demanding client at her accounting office, was to confront her annoying neighbor. She had lived in this community for almost six months, and not once had Devlin Callahan dropped by to welcome her. Oh, no, the jerk hadn’t bothered to set foot on the place until he came to complain and shout ultimatums at her.
It hadn’t helped that Jessica encountered Devlin immediately after opening her credit card statement to discover that her two-timing ex-fiancé had charged a Caribbean cruise, for two, to her account. Damn the man! No, damn all men in general, she corrected bitterly. Why not? Every frustration she’d dealt with during the course of the day had come at the hands of the male of the species.
“Hell of a day, Jess,” she said to herself as she exited her bedroom and trotted down the staircase. There was one surefire way to lighten her black mood, and that was to wander among the exotic animals that had become her charges.
Jessica smiled fondly when her guard goose greeted her on the back porch and performed its usual head-dipping ritual. The goose followed her across the lawn to retrieve feed from the barn. With each step Jessica took toward the pens and cages in the distance, the day’s tension drained away. Despite what Devlin Callahan presumed, these animals could not be returned to the wilds because of their handicaps and special needs. They needed her, she reminded herself, and that cowboy with the attitude wasn’t going to force her to relocate them.
Jessica’s lifelong love of animals and her tendency to pick up strays had become a crusade during her post-college years in Tulsa, where she had learned the ropes of the accounting business. Her high-dollar salary had allowed her to purchase acreage to house her exotic animals, but the generous offer from an industrial corporation convinced her to sell the property and relocate. Jessica had quadrupled her investment and decided to move to the laid-back hamlet of Buzzard’s Grove to establish her own accounting office.
The decision hadn’t been difficult because there were no close family ties to consider, only a few friends from the office who had their own families and personal lives.
Then, of course, there was her ex-fiancé—the hotshot Triple-A baseball star whose idea of a road trip included notching his bedpost with different women from different cities. It was only by accident that Jessica discovered Rex’s womanizing tendencies and promptly canceled their engagement. Humiliated, outraged, Jessica had packed up her animals and moved to the country. Unfortunately, Rex the ex had the last laugh when he billed charges to her credit card.
First thing in the morning, Jessica intended to cancel her MasterCard and contact American Express. She was not paying for Rex’s getaways again.
Jessica inhaled a breath of fresh country air, exhaled slowly and told herself to get a grip. Rex was history. She’d played the naive fool once, but never again. She vowed to avoid those macho, chauvinistic jock types—like her disagreeable neighbor. Just because she found Devlin Callahan physically appealing, what with his shock of raven hair, midnight-black eyes, broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles and horseman’s thighs, didn’t mean she was the slightest bit interested in getting involved with him. Besides, she needed to channel her time and energy into making a success of her business venture, refurbishing the house and providing care for her animals.
Jessica had known the moment she laid eyes on this forty-acre plot, with its rolling hills and thick groves of cottonwoods, elms and redbud trees, that she had finally found a place that felt like home. She had spent most of her life leaving behind what took forever to become comfortable and familiar. But she had known instinctively that she could happily put down roots here.
A sense of peace stole over her as she strode from one pen to the next, greeting and feeding her many charges. The brown bear she called Teddy performed his swaying ritual, then hobbled forward on his gimpy leg to devour the food Jessica placed in his pen. Each animal had its own way of greeting her, its special traits, that made her feel as if she was visiting with a dear friend.
Thoughts of her fussy client, Edgar Stokes, her aggravating neighbor and her traitorous ex skittered off in the evening breeze. Ah, yes, country life was the life for her. These maimed animals depended on her. Like Jessica, they were outcasts that didn’t quite fit into society. That was okay, Jessica consoled herself. She had accepted the fact that she was an outsider, a misfit. But she and her unusual pets had settled into these wide-open spaces, and life was good.
Mother Goose honked, jolting Jessica from her pensive musings. “Not to worry, Mother, I haven’t forgotten about you.”
With the plump white goose waddling at her heels, Jessica ambled into the barn to scatter grain for her feathered friend. By the time Jessica returned to the house to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave her mood had brightened considerably. She wondered if her grouchy neighbor’s mood had eased after their heated encounter. Not that she cared if he left mad and stayed that way. All she cared was that he left and never came back.
Fact was that Devlin Callahan’s appearance triggered bitter memories of the time when she had fallen for a handsome face and muscled body. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Until she met a man who was willing to give as much as he took, someone who wasn’t interested in the tidy sum of money she’d made when she sold her property on the outskirts of Tulsa, she planned to avoid men, especially the ones who looked as if they stepped off a poster for Tall, Dark and Handsome. No, sirree, she wasn’t going to fall for some hunk of a cowboy who had the disposition of a wounded rhinoceros.
Lord, she still couldn’t believe that idiotic man tried to blame his problem with his flighty cattle on her, expected her to pay for his time and expenses. What unmitigated gall he had!
Refusing to give Devil Devlin another thought, Jessica shoved her frozen dinner in the microwave, then pivoted to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea.
DERRICK CALLAHAN slopped three hamburger patties, swimming in cream soup, on his plate, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps that heralded his brother’s arrival. “’Bout time. I decided not to wait any longer. I have a date tonight and I have no intention of showing up late just because you can’t get your sorry butt back here on time.”
“Date? In the middle of the week?” Devlin inquired as he plucked up his plate for the buffet-style meal sitting on the counter.
“Yeah? So?” Derrick challenged. “What’s the matter with that? People do date on weekdays, you know.”
“Only if they’re getting serious.” Devlin scooped up a large helping of fried okra, then moved on to the bowl of fried potatoes. “You and that new restaurant owner getting serious, are you?”
“Maybe,” Derrick mumbled noncommittally, then pivoted toward the oblong oak table that sat in the middle of the spacious dining area. He used his free hand to scrape scattered mail out of his way, then plopped down on a chair. “So, how did your encounter go with the neighbor lady?”
Devlin might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew a diversion tactic when he heard one. His brother didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassie Dixon, the vivacious brunette whose new café was the talk of the town. The fact that Derrick wanted to keep his relationship with Cassie a secret from his own brother, his only living relative, suggested that Derrick was already in over his head and sinking fast. Not that Devlin blamed his brother. Cassie Dixon had class, style and personality—unlike the female fruitcake with the attitude who lived down the road.
“Well?” Derrick prompted.
Devlin glanced up from his heaped plate. “Well, what?”
“Did you convince our neighbor to relocate her zoo so it won’t disturb our livestock?”
“No, she slammed the door in my face after lambasting me with insults,” Devlin grumbled as he grabbed his fork. “The woman has a chip the size of Mount Rushmore on her shoulder, and her brain is obviously solid rock. There’s no getting through to her, not without a jackhammer and dynamite.”
Derrick rolled his eyes, then stared at his brother. “In other words, you used your standard, give-’em-hell approach and butted heads with her. I distinctly remember telling you to use diplomacy.”
“Diplomacy wouldn’t have done any good,” Devlin said.
Derrick shook his head and sighed audibly. “It is totally beyond me why you didn’t use your lady-killer smile and charm on her. There isn’t an eligible female in Buzzard County who can resist you when you turn on the charm. You shouldn’t have gone over to the neighbor’s house while you were hot under the collar. I tried to tell you to wait until you’d cooled off. But no, you climbed off your horse after roundup and blazed off. I know how you operate, Dev. When in doubt you start yelling, as if that ever solves problems. It almost never works with women. Next time, try being tactful.”
The last thing he needed was a lecture from his brother, who had a history of leaving the difficult situations for Devlin to solve. Diplomacy? Hell!
“There won’t be a next time,” Devlin muttered crankily. “If you think the charming, chivalrous approach will work—and I’ll bet money that it won’t—then you can march your candy butt over there and try to reason with her. After all, you’ve got the identical smile and more charm than I do.”
Derrick threw up his hand like a traffic cop. “Me? No way. Just because we’re identical twins doesn’t mean I’m going over there after you screwed up. She’ll take one look at me and think I’m you. I’ll get nowhere.”
“Well, she started it with her snide remarks,” Devlin said self-righteously. “But I’ll admit that it didn’t help when I accidentally smacked her right between the eyes when she abruptly opened the door.”
Derrick groaned in dismay. “Well, there you go. What do you expect? If it had been me—” he tapped himself proudly on the chest “—I would have politely rung the doorbell, not hammered on the door. The accident would never have happened.”
Devlin bared his teeth and glared at his twin. The thing about being an identical twin was that you never felt as if you had your own individuality, especially when you had to sit across the table every night and work side by side every day. Especially when Derrick was forever handing out free advice, just because he was all of three minutes older and considered himself twice as smart.
“I swear, Dev, you turned cantankerous after you went ape over that prissy redhead a few years back.”
“Don’t remind me,” Devlin grumbled. “I got my heart trampled while you glided merrily from one woman to the next…until Cassie Dixon showed up in town and turned your brain into Malt-O-Meal.”
Derrick scowled at the insult.
Devlin scowled back.
“Okay, so I didn’t get my heart broken at the tender age of twenty-five.”
“Exactly my point, Derr. You aren’t jaded and cynical. You’re better prepared for dealing with Jessica Porter and the zoo. The woman is easy on the eye, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. You need to get over there and talk some sense into her before those squalling, bellowing zoo animals scatter our livestock to kingdom come.”
“Our neighbor lady is attractive?” Derrick asked.
“A regular knockout,” Devlin confirmed, then munched on potatoes. “You probably won’t open your mouth and say the wrong thing. You can sweet-talk her into being reasonable, even if she thinks you’re me. In fact, you two might even hit it off—”
“Oh, no,” Derrick loudly objected. “That’s the last thing I need right now. I’ve got a good thing going with Cassie and I’m not about to screw it up. I’m not getting within a mile of the neighbor’s house, for fear that Cassie might get the wrong idea.”
“Tell Cassie it was me,” Devlin suggested. “It’s not like she’ll know the difference.”
“Absolutely, positively not,” Derrick refused. “You made a mess of the negotiations with the Porter lady and you’re going to straighten this out!”
Derrick swallowed the last bite of hamburger patty, then vaulted to his feet. “While you’re cleaning up the kitchen I’m going to shower, then I’m out of here. Cassie and I are going to watch a movie at her place. You can spend the evening practicing being charming, polite and diplomatic. Tomorrow night you can waltz over to the neighbor’s, bearing gifts of flowers and candy, and make amends.”
“You want me to court trouble with a capital T?” Devlin crowed. “No way in hell!”
“This is your feud, bro. You started it and you can end it. I’m staying completely out of it.” Derrick frowned darkly. “Fix the problem, hear me?”
Devlin glared laser beams at his brother’s departing back. Fix the problem? Yeah, right. The only way to resolve the situation was to lock Jessica Porter in a cage with her exotic animals, then ship her off to a wildlife refuge that was far, far away from the Rocking C Ranch.
An hour later, while Devlin was relaxing on the porch swing, reading the biweekly newspaper, he heard an unearthly scream that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Cougar, he thought, then gnashed his teeth when a bobcat growled in the distance.
Damn it to hell, about the same time every night Porter’s zoo orchestra struck up a racket that spoiled the serenity of the evening. Come morning, Devlin knew what he and his brother would be doing—chasing down spooked livestock.
“Charm the dragon lady?” he asked himself. “Pretend I actually like her? Not on your life.”
An unnerving roar exploded in the twilight. Devlin slammed down the newspaper, then stormed into the house. His neighbor’s zoo was disturbing his peace. Surely there was a law against that, wasn’t there? Devlin vowed to drag Sheriff Osborn out here to listen to this racket. Then maybe Devlin would get some results!
2
“GOOD MORNING, boss,” Teresa Harper greeted enthusiastically as Jessica walked into her office in Buzzard’s Grove.
“Morning.” Jessica set her briefcase on her desk and smiled at her red-haired secretary. Jessica still had trouble believing Teresa was the same desperate, withdrawn woman who had scurried into the office three months ago, begging for a job, vowing to do whatever necessary to earn money.
Teresa had lacked spirit and self-esteem and could barely make eye contact without ducking her head and wringing her hands. The poor, distraught woman had burst into tears and spilled her hard-luck story—in between sobs and shuddering gulps. Teresa had escaped an abusive husband, filed for divorce and moved to Buzzard’s Grove to put distance between her ex and herself.
The woman desperately needed to make a new start, and Jessica felt compelled to help, because she knew what it was like to be alone and frightened and unsure where the next meal would come from, unsure if she was wanted or accepted. Jessica had hired the woman on the spot, though Teresa lacked certain secretarial skills.
Determined to see that Teresa had a new life, a positive self-image, Jessica had located an efficiency apartment in town, paid the deposit from her own pocket, offered Teresa a few garments from her own wardrobe and won an instant and devoted friend and employee.
To repay the kindness, Teresa had worked extra hours at the office to hone her skills and made every effort to be courteous and professional while dealing with clients. Once Teresa familiarized herself with business procedures, she fielded calls so Jessica could immerse herself in tallying and balancing accounts. Being the only certified accountant in town brought Jessica more business than she wanted—which was why she was so slow in making repairs around her grand old farm home.
“Whew, yesterday was a killer, wasn’t it?” Teresa remarked as she handed Jessica a cup of steaming coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll. “I almost lost my cool when that grumpy old coot barreled in here to chew you up one side and down the other because you wouldn’t fudge on his income tax form. For a minute there, I had flashbacks of dealing with my ex. If you hadn’t come charging forward to take on Edgar Stokes I would have been cowering in the corner, reduced to tears.” Teresa smiled. “I truly admire the way you stand up to men and refuse to let them intimidate you. If I keep watching those self-help videos you gave me, maybe I’ll be a force to be reckoned with, too.”
Jessica bit into the warm cinnamon roll. Her taste buds went into full-scale riot. Not only was Teresa turning into a dream employee, but she really could cook. She brought deli sandwiches for lunch, coffee cakes for breakfast, and Jessica’s mouth watered like Pavlov’s dogs at first sniff.
“Thanks for the compliment, Teresa. I’ve had lots of practice holding my own against the pushy men of the world. Edgar Stokes was just a warm-up for the annoying character who showed up on my doorstep when I got home last night.”
Alarm registered in Teresa’s wide hazel eyes. “Oh, my gosh! The man didn’t try to assault you, did he? Do I need to notify Sheriff Osborn? Can you identify your assailant?”
“Yes, he is my nearest neighbor, who stopped by to voice his displeasure with my exotic animals. No need to call the sheriff.”
“He didn’t like your animals?” Teresa harrumphed as she walked around her desk to grab her cup of coffee. “I hope you let him have it—in spades.”
“We pretty much let each other have it—in spades,” Jessica reported, then took another bite of the delicious roll. “The cowboy with the attitude claimed my exotics were disturbing his livestock and he demanded that I pay him for the time and money required to round up his cattle and repair his fences.”
“Who is this character?” Teresa questioned curiously.
“Devlin Callahan.”
“Never heard of him, but then, I’ve only been in town a few months. The man obviously isn’t one of your clients, otherwise I’d recognize his name from your files.”
That much was true, Jessica mused as she polished off the cinnamon roll, then reached for another. Teresa made it a point to familiarize herself with every client on file. Devlin Callahan was not, and never would be, on file. Jessica would refuse to handle Rocking C Ranch accounts, even if Devil Devlin asked her nicely—and she seriously doubted he was capable of that. The less she had to deal with Callahan the better she’d like it.
“Oh, look! There’s that nice Sheriff Osborn now,” Teresa said. She pointed a red-tipped finger toward the window. “He’s in the parking lot at Good Grub Diner. Want me to hustle over there and register a complaint for you? I wouldn’t mind a bit, you know.”
Jessica pivoted, her mouth wrapped around the scrumptious cinnamon roll, then choked for breath. Devlin Callahan stepped from his four-wheel-drive, fire-engine-red pickup truck and approached the sheriff. No doubt that black-eyed monster was following up her suggestion of taking complaints to the sheriff. Jessica couldn’t say she was surprised to see Callahan bending the sheriff’s ear. He certainly had bent hers during their shouting match last night, and she had let that arrogant cowboy have it with both barrels blazing.
Unwillingly, Jessica’s assessing gaze drifted over Devlin’s striking profile. The man was just too darn good-looking, she mused. If life was fair and just, Devlin’s appearance would be as offensive as his personality. Jessica couldn’t say exactly why she had reacted so unfavorably to Callahan at first glance. There was something about him that brought her feminine defenses to code-red alert. She supposed she found herself unwillingly attracted to the big galoot and went to extremes to offend and repel him.
Okay, so maybe she had gone overboard in an attempt to prove to him, and to herself, that she didn’t like the looks of him. After her fiasco with Rex the ex she resolved never to be taken in by a handsome face and magnificent male body. Rex, as it turned out, had all the emotional depth of a bar of soap. She suspected Devlin was the shining example of same-song-second-verse.
It didn’t help the situation one iota when she suffered a knee-jerk reaction to Devlin’s explosive temper. He irritated her, so naturally, she made a supreme effort to return the favor.
“Wow, who is that guy talking to the sheriff?” Teresa asked, her nose pressed to the windowpane. “He looks like a movie star or something. Is he handsome or what, boss?”
“That’s Callahan,” Jessica reported. “Don’t be fooled by his good looks. He can be a fire-breathing dragon when the mood strikes. He’s probably tattling to the sheriff as we speak, trying to convince Osborn to pressure me into relocating my exotic animals, because God-Almighty Callahan doesn’t want me infringing on his cattle kingdom.”
DEVLIN WAS INDEED airing his grievances to Sheriff Osborn at that very moment—for all the good it did him, just as Jessica prophesied.
“I realize you’re tired and cranky, since you were up before five this morning chasing down your scattered cattle,” Sheriff Reed Osborn commiserated. “But Miss Porter’s land is zoned for a refuge and she has a license issued by the National Coordinator of the Association of Sanctuaries. The association deals with about twenty accredited sanctuaries nationwide. Porter’s sanctuary is very reputable, and the association placed two large cats in her care a couple of months ago.”
“Two jungle cats?” Devlin hooted. “As in lions and tigers? No wonder my livestock bolts and runs! Criminey, Reed, I have wheat to plant for forage. Derrick and I need to service our tractors and machinery, not spend valuable time thundering across pastures and through ditches in an attempt to retrieve runaway cattle and sheep. This has got to stop! I’m getting no rest whatsoever, and repair bills for new barbed wire and steel fence posts are mounting up.”
Reed shrugged and sighed. “I hear ya, Dev, don’t think I don’t. But there really isn’t much I can do about the situation. None of the exotics have escaped to terrorize the countryside or put humans or livestock at direct risk. Why don’t you move your cattle to another pasture and put more distance between them and the exotics?”
“You expect me to sacrifice eighty acres of much-needed summer grass when I have hungry cattle? Sure, I can change the pasture rotation next year, but if I move those cattle to another pasture that has been grubbed to the ground because of the drought, Derrick and I will have to pay the extra expense of feeding cattle cubes. And another thing,” Dev added hastily, “that woman dammed up the stream when she built her pond at the first of the summer. Her exotics are frolicking in the pond while my livestock are going thirsty. I’ve been transporting water to them for over a month. Porter shouldn’t be allowed to block the water supply like that.”
Reed Osborn nodded his sandy blond head. “You’ve got her there, Dev. I don’t think the Association of Sanctuaries would support her on that one. Want me to talk to her about reopening the water flow to your pasture?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” Devlin replied in supreme satisfaction. “I’d rather not talk to that woman again if I don’t have to. I swear she’s placed some kind of curse on me. We haven’t had many decent rains since she moved in six months ago and dammed up the creek. The pasture grass is fizzling out, and fence repairs are cutting into profit. When she moved in things started going wrong.”
Reed chuckled in amusement. “You’re holding her personally responsible for this two-month drought and record-setting heat wave?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she had something to do with it,” Devlin said, then snorted. “I’d call her a witch, but she would probably sue me for slander, then take over the Rocking C and turn the whole blessed ranch into a sanctuary for killer cats, mauling bears and only God knows what else.”
“Jessica Porter a witch?” Reed’s eyebrows shot up like exclamation marks. “Are we talking about the same sweet, charming woman? The Jessica I know is a model citizen. You wouldn’t believe all the charities and organizations she’s donated money to since her arrival. She contributes to anything that benefits youth groups and underprivileged children in our community.”
Devlin blinked, stunned by the glowing accolades heaped on the dragon lady. “Sweet and charming?” His arm shot out to indicate the building across the street from Good Grub Diner. “Are we talking about the Jessica Porter whose office is right over there? The woman who has the sharpest tongue in the county, even though she’s built like Miss September?”
Reed burst out laughing at the shocked expression on Devlin’s face. “Yup, that’s her. She also hired a woman who was on the run from an abusive ex-husband. Jessica marched herself over to my office to request a restraining order, in case the jerk showed up to terrorize Teresa. You should see the positive changes Teresa has undergone since Jessica took her under her wing.”
“Yeah? Turned the poor woman into a witch?” Devlin asked sarcastically.
“Hell, no!” Reed countered. “I tell you the woman is a saint. Why, Jessica even went so far as to pay Teresa’s deposit and first month’s rent, outfit her with stylish clothes and buy some secondhand furniture at the sheriff’s sale to furnish the apartment.”
Devlin blinked like a traffic caution light. Reed thought the dragon lady was a saint? Maybe it was Devlin who brought out the worst in Miss Model Citizen of the Year. From all indications, Porter only had a problem getting along with her nearest neighbor—him.
“I suggest you and the rest of the Jessica Porter fan club camp out at Rocking C and see how you like it,” Devlin grumbled. “After one night of listening to the zoo orchestra serenade you and rounding up frightened cattle, I guarantee that you’ll change your tune. That woman and her zoo are a nuisance that is testing the limits of my temper.”
“I’ll talk to Jessica about unleashing the water, but I’m telling you flat-out, Dev, you and Jess are going to have to come to some kind of reconciliation and understanding. That’s an order.” He stared meaningfully at Devlin. “I’ve got enough situations to resolve around here without dealing with feuding neighbors. Use a little of that Callahan charm instead of that short-fused temper.”
Devlin gnashed his teeth until he practically wore off the enamel. This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that he had been instructed to rely on his charm—what there was left of it after his embarrassing heartbreak seven years earlier. He wasn’t sure he had ever possessed enough charm and patience to deal with the dragon lady.
“I mean it, Dev.” The sheriff put on his cop face and stared at Devlin. “You be especially nice to that woman, hear me? She’s done lots of good deeds here in Buzzard’s Grove. Everybody around here respects her. It wouldn’t be good for her professional reputation, or yours, if you both decided to square off at twenty paces for a showdown. I’d have to toss you both in the slammer for disturbing the peace—”
“What about the fact that her zoo is disturbing my peace?” Devlin broke in indignantly.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Dev, we’ve had sightings of bobcats and mountain lions over the years. We have packs of coyotes running around all over the place. Jessica’s animals are penned up and cause less threat. What are you gonna do? Try to sue the Association of Sanctuaries? Of course not. It’d be a waste of time. Now make an effort to mend your fences.”
“I’ve done enough of that already,” Devlin said sourly.
“That was a figure of speech,” the sheriff remarked, then flashed a smile. “Just because you got your heart broke a few years back doesn’t mean you should take out your frustration on every woman you encounter, especially not Miss Porter.”
Exasperated, Devlin threw up his hands. “Is my personal life front-page news around here? Hell, it’s like living in a fishbowl!”
Reed Osborn shrugged nonchalantly. “Typical small town stuff. Besides, you and your brother have always been the subject of gossip. You’re good-looking, successful and eligible. Deal with it, Callahan. I wish I had your problems.”
Devlin spun toward his truck. “Just talk to Porter about her blasted pond,” he ordered.
“Okay, but polish up your smile and spray on a coat of charm,” the sheriff demanded. “Work out your differences with Jessica, or you’ll both answer to me. Got it?”
Oh, he had it, all right—a pain in the lower region of his anatomy that went by the name of Jessica Porter.
Swearing under his breath, Devlin piled into his pickup and aimed himself toward the ranch. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bed of the truck, which was heaped with new steel fence posts and rolls of shiny barbed wire. Damn, if only he could figure out a way to drown those alarming noises he wouldn’t be building new stretches of fence….
An idea hatched in his head and Devlin smiled for the first time all day—one that began before five o’clock, thanks to the racket at Porter’s zoo. Devlin made a U-turn and went to the farm supply store to purchase extension cords. Maybe piped music would muffle the howls, growls and screeches.
Grinning devilishly, Devlin made the extra purchases, then headed toward home. He’d see how Porter liked listening to blaring music all night. She might have grown accustomed to being serenaded by her zoo, but lively, fast-tempo honky-tonk music would bring her straight out of bed. Once she got a taste of her own medicine, she’d know how Devlin reacted to those roars and shrieks.
JESSICA WIPED the sweat from her brow and surveyed the trench she’d dug in the pond dam. Thanks to her cantankerous, tattletale neighbor, the sheriff insisted she allow water to flow from her pond to the stream that meandered across Devlin’s pasture. Jessica was ashamed to say it hadn’t occurred to her that she had unintentionally stifled Devlin’s water supply and he’d been forced to haul water. That was inconsiderate and unneighborly of her.
Maybe she had been entirely too hard on the man, she thought as she shoveled more dirt. It wasn’t Devlin’s fault that his good looks and muscular physique reminded her of her ex-fiancé and that she had transferred her frustration to the cowboy.
That was not the mature approach, she told herself. How many times had Jessica advised Teresa not to compare her abusive ex-husband to the men she met in Buzzard’s Grove? More times than she cared to count, Jessica realized. Teresa had begun to put her painful past behind her and had developed a crush on Sheriff Osborn. Teresa was getting on with her life. Eight months after her humiliating relationship with Rex, Jessica was still afraid to trust a man.
“You aren’t being fair,” Jessica said to herself.
Mother Goose honked as if in agreement, then fluttered into the pond to take an evening swim.
While water trickled through the V Jessica dug in the dam, she carted rocks up the steep incline to insure future rains didn’t erode her waterway and empty her pond. Smiling, Jessica watched the pair of coyotes and their pups, the red foxes and a trio of horses drink from the pond. It was gratifying to see that the animals had learned to coexist in this sanctuary.
So why couldn’t she get along with Devlin Callahan?
Recalling the sheriff’s request to resolve her differences with Devlin, Jessica vowed to make an effort to be civil.
While she made her rounds to feed the exotics housed in covered pens and cages, she reminded herself that she needed to mow and clean up around the sanctuary this weekend. The local grade school students would be arriving for their field trip. Since Jessica’s sanctuary was listed on the association’s register, she had received several calls to schedule field trips. The money would help to defray costs for more pens and feed. Her exotic family would continue to grow as long as she had space.
Weary from digging the trench in the parched earth, Jessica trudged to the house to bathe. Partially revived, she opened the freezer to select a microwave dinner.
She had considered swinging by the new restaurant at the end of Main Street to pick up a carry-out meal, but she had been late getting away from the office, and she had to feed her animals before dark.
Ah well, Jessica didn’t consider herself Suzie Homemaker, and she wasn’t one of those people who lived to eat; she simply ate to live. But every once in a while she craved a thick, juicy steak, home-cooked vegetables and dessert. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook, it was just that she didn’t have much time, what with getting her business off the ground, tending the exotics and doing minor refurbishing projects inside the house.
A faint smile twitched her lips as she recalled her shaky start in life, her difficult teens and her struggle to acquire a college education. The kid no one wanted—least of all her irresponsible, pleasure-seeking parents—had made something of herself. In fact, she could be living off the interest on the money she made when she sold the hot property in Tulsa. But Jessica didn’t want to be a recluse on her sanctuary. She secretly longed 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 shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, how was I to know she was going to dig the trench until after the fact?”
Derrick slammed his fist on the table. Silverware and bowls bounced like Mexican jumping beans. “This is juvenile, Dev. You’re going to turn this into a grudge contest if you aren’t careful. I insist that you go over there tonight and do your damnedest to make amends. If Jessica is as community-minded and financially generous as the sheriff says, then you’re the one who is going to come off looking like a jerk…which reflects on me, because folks might think I’m a party to this nonsense, which I’m sure as hell not.”
Devlin glowered at his identical twin. “Are you going to sit here and tell me that you don’t mind chasing down cattle every other day?”
“Of course not, but I’ll fix fences if that’s what it takes to keep peace. I prefer to focus my free time on Cassie Dixon. She, being a woman and all, is sure to side with Jessica in this feud.” Derrick stared placatingly at his brother. “Please, Dev, bury the hatchet. Ask the woman out and get to know her before you pass judgment. Find out why she is caught up in this crusade, make her understand that the cattle and sheep are our livelihood and that ranchers are facing tough times. Try to become the great guy you were before Sandi Saxon screwed you over for that high-rolling lawyer and moved to Oklahoma City. Stop being so cautious and defensive when it comes to women.”
Having said his piece, Derrick rose to set his bowl and glass in the sink. “I’m going to change the oil and replace the hydraulic hoses on both tractors this morning while you clean out the drills and auger seed wheat into the trucks.” Derrick glanced out the window. “There are a few clouds piling up on the horizon, so maybe we’ll finally get some rain before we plant wheat.”
“It’d be nice if something went right,” Devlin muttered.
“Oh, before I forget, I won’t be here to cook supper tonight. Cassie invited me to her restaurant to eat with her. You’re on your own, bro.”
When Derrick strode off, Devlin hunched over the table, mulling over his brother’s criticism of the neighbor situation. Truth be known, Devlin enjoyed sparring with his feisty neighbor. She was quickwitted and sassy, and she amused him in a frustrated sort of way. Furthermore, he kind of liked the fact that she stood up to him.
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