Summon Toren(29)
She grabbed up stuff until her hands were full and Toren did the same, without being told. “Need to get back and check on ole mashed potato for brains. Make sure he hasn’t prayed and fasted himself to damn death.”
They walked out to the truck and Sam found her hat and smashed it on her head to finish off her puny boy look. She started the old truck and grinned. “Thank you God for this faithful jalopy.” Sam jerked her gaze to the giant of a man who made a noise suspiciously like a groan. “Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ sick.”
“No, not at all. Thank you for your concern.”
She put the truck in gear and backed up, knowing where the road was by heart. “I’m concerned for my ranch mister, and if you’re sick, it dies. No offense.”
“None taken.”
She refused to meet his grin as she maneuvered the truck/snowplow through the mess, pushing snow aside with the angled blade on the front as she slowly went, carving out a road. “I hope to hell everybody’s okay.”
"Including Mashed Potato Brains?" A little twinge of what might be jealousy gave his voice an odd little lilt.
Sam glanced at him, trying to figure his angle once more. Nothing came to mind. "Joe? Can't stand the bastard. Nothing would make me happier than having him off my ranch. It wouldn't bother me a bit to put a bullet in his brain, just like I would a bull gone too mean for the cows. The only reason I haven't is it'd be too much work to bury him." She glanced at him again.
A little grin flirted around his mouth. "If I promise to dig the grave, can I get rid of the competition?" He grinned full on, fit to stop her heart.
The unexpected words accompanied with the highly lascivious reaction she had to them had her mentally scrambling to hide. Normally her mind would effortlessly block all reality that attempted to breech the protective man-wall around her, but holding that fort was proving to take actual effort with this guy. She searched the white landscape desperate for a distraction big enough to aid her. Nightmare visions of piles of dead cattle half submerged in false drifts came to her rescue, putting her mind back on task. “God, please protect my ranch, please,” she mumbled, squinting in the strange bright sun. She peered all around. “What is this, the eye of the blizzard? Such freaky weather.”
“Yes ma'am.”
She glanced at the odd man. He really felt like surreal art, and not just the look of him sitting there, but in her life at all. He seemed to feel her periodic surmising and glanced at her. She shook her head and focused on the road. “You’re weird, you know that?”
He gave a light snort. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression from you. Thanks.”
“Hey, I’m just being honest, you don’t like it, I’m sorry, it’s who I am.”
“I like it.”
She did a few double takes at him. “See? That’s what I mean, I insult you and you’re all fine with it. That’s not normal. That’s weird.”
He grinned and licked his lips, not looking her way. “I’m not the type to let other people’s opinions define me. I know who I am. You don’t. I can respect that.”
Sam snorted. “Well if that isn’t a back-handed compliment I never heard one. Suppose I deserved it.”
“It wasn’t meant to hurt you.”
Oh, there it was again, that jiggly honey feeling that sometimes came with his tone. It came occasionally and well, it was beginning to annoy the hell out of her. The way it found every secret her body possessed just wasn't right.
“Mister, that kind of thing doesn’t hurt me, I much prefer brute honesty over flattery.”
“Then you’ll be able to appreciate that I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Sam nearly lost control of the truck at his stupid words. She glared at him several times, her heart pounding like a sledge hammer. No. No way. “You lie as well as you tell the truth. Don’t you fucking start with that bullshit, or I will fire you immediately.”
“Firing me won’t change the truth darlin’” The grin she expected never materialized. His face stayed as straight as a preacher at a funeral.
“Look, insult me with truth all day long—”
“Insult you with truth? Now there’s an oxymoron. How is me thinking you’re beautiful an insult?” Still no sexy melt your drawers grin.
She was dumbfounded with his stupidity. “Wow, you sound as though you’re genuinely clueless.”
“I am,” he said incredulous.
“Are you blind mister? Maybe you’re into the young boy look? Is that it? Please tell me you’re not an escaped pedophile convict.” That had to be it.