The Trouble with Texas Cowboys(17)

“You can leave a tip beside the cash register if that entertained you, darlin’.”

“And you can stop the Irish talk. Lord, I’d shoot Kinsey Brennan for a double shot of Jameson right now,” she moaned.

“I’d give you a whole bottle if you’d go on and take out Betsy Gallagher at the same time. There’s one hiding back behind the Jack Daniel’s at the bar, but nobody asked for it Saturday night.”

“It’s probably there for Naomi Gallagher when she comes to town.”

“Will we have to pour beer on her and Mavis if they show up at the same time?”

“Probably, but I bet she could snap her fingers and transport herself back to Wild Horse in a split second. She steals pigs and makes them disappear into thin air. I met them both yesterday, and I liked them both better than I liked their grandsons. Maybe it would be different if I didn’t feel like a prize Angus heifer at an auction. How about you? Did you like the grannies better than the granddaughters?”

“I didn’t like any of them, period. And, darlin’ girl, you could never be a prize Angus heifer. They’ve got black hair, and yours is red. You’d have to be a Guernsey or a Jersey heifer,” he teased.

She slapped at his arm, missing by six inches. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “Yes, I do, but they really want you. They just want this poor old rough cowboy without two nickels in his pockets to go away any way they can make it happen.”

She reached over and pinched his cheek. “You’re so cute, they can’t help themselves. And then there is the feud. Whichever side gets you gets a fine rancher, and the other side loses.”

A grin twitched the corners of his mouth and kept getting bigger until he chuckled. “And of course I am a stud bull.”

“Sawyer!”

“If you can be a heifer, why can’t I be a bull?”

“What about a bull?” Gladys asked as she came through the back door.

“Jill says she feels like a prize heifer at the auction. Like the two feuding families are trying to outbid each other for her,” Sawyer said.

“And you’re the bull that the women are fighting over?”

Sawyer blushed.

Gladys didn’t wait for an answer. “I heard about the catfight and the carriage ride and that Tyrell is going to hog the jukebox tonight. There’s a meeting going on at each ranch right now. They are talking strategy about you and this war that’s come down because of Mavis’s hogs. I haven’t seen the feud heat up like this in more than twenty years. You two best dig in for the fight, because it’s comin’ from both sides.”

“Shit!” Jill groaned.

Gladys pointed her finger at Jill. “I’ve told you before. Fiddle Creek isn’t going to either one of those families, so if you liked the way either one of those cowboys kissed you last night, you’ll do well to remember that I’d give it to a wildlife preservation group to raise wild hogs on before I’d let them have it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am, and for the record, I wasn’t too impressed with either of them,” she said.





Chapter 9


Jill tossed a small bale of hay over the side of the truck bed, put one hand on the edge, and hopped out to the ground. The cows were so tame that they didn’t even hesitate to start feeding on it the minute she cut the baling wire and scattered it for them.

“Aunt Gladys called this morning.”

“And?” Sawyer asked.

“And she said that Wallace Redding down in Salt Holler called her with a good deal on hogs, so she needs us to come to the store as early as we can. I thought we’d go see Aunt Polly on the way.”

“Didn’t she buy a hog on Monday?” Sawyer kicked the hay to scatter it a bit for the cows and got back in the truck to move on to the next pasture.

She settled into the passenger’s seat. “Yes, but it’s warmed up, and Wallace says he’s got to sell a couple cheap because his freezers are all full and his smokehouses are going full-time. Long as it was cold, he could hang a few in a cooling shed, but not when it’s getting up close to sixty degrees. He’ll probably talk her into buying two, and our big storeroom cooler will be full.”

He put the truck into gear and eased on to the next feeding place. “Think any of it will ruin?”

“No, Aunt Gladys said that it’s selling fast as she can cut it up. And since Mavis Brennan hasn’t got any pork, she called her and made her a deal on buying a couple extra to sell her for her freezer on River Bend. That will just be a matter of delivery, but I bet Aunt Gladys makes a profit on that job.”

Jill got out of the truck and jogged to the gates into the next pasture, opening and closing them once Sawyer had driven through. Cattle moved along slowly in a single file against the fence row. An old black bull threw back his head and bawled when the cows behind him didn’t keep up, as if telling them the breakfast buffet was about to be spread, and he wasn’t waiting for grace.

She hurried from the gate to the truck and had tossed two bales out before Sawyer got out. “Slow movin’ today, are you?” Jill commented.

“Had a call from Gladys right then. She wants us there soon as we get done here. Verdie is going to stay with Polly. We’ll have to go see her again tomorrow. She sure looked better yesterday than I thought she would.”

“She’s a tough old broad. I’m going to grow up and be just like her,” Jill said.

“I guess Mavis wants three hogs if Wallace is willin’ to share them, and Gladys needs the ranch truck to go get it all. She said she’s making a fifty-dollar profit to deliver them to River Bend,” Sawyer told her.

“Aunt Gladys could make money selling cow patties for chocolate.” Jill laughed.

“Why doesn’t Mavis go to Salt Holler or send one of her hired hands to get the pork for her?” Sawyer asked.

“Because Aunt Gladys knows Wallace. I think they went to school together, but even she can’t cross that bridge until he gives permission. Wallace comes out of the holler on occasion, but folks don’t go into it. They’re real superstitious down there.”

“Cross the bridge?”

“The way Aunt Gladys explained it to me is that about five miles from Burnt Boot there’s a bridge that Wallace and his family built, so they own it. State, county, or city doesn’t have any say-so over it. It’s the only way into the holler for cars or trucks, and there’s a gate at the end that’s padlocked. So if you got business in Salt Holler, you’d have to get in touch with Wallace beforehand, and few people even have his phone number.”

“Their kids go to school?”

“Oh, yeah, they bring them to the bridge, and the bus picks them up, but it doesn’t get on the bridge,” Jill answered.

“Why?”

“When I was a little girl, Aunt Gladys took me down there one time to see where it was, but we didn’t cross the bridge, thank God. The people who live down there in the holler get across in pickups and cars, but believe me, I wouldn’t cross it on a skateboard.”

“Does it cross a river by that name, or what?” Sawyer kicked the bales when she clipped the wires.

“A big gully that gets marshy in the springtime. Aunt Gladys said before they built the bridge, it would get so muddy that the bus couldn’t get the kids for school, and the Reddings couldn’t get out for supplies. It must have been a long time ago, because that bridge looks like it was built from scraps of the Ark, and I’m talking about the one that Noah built,” she said.

Sawyer laughed out loud. “You’ll have to show me where that bridge is someday. Anything that scares you has to be pretty damn bad.”

Jill smiled. “Well, thank you! That’s the best compliment I’ve had since I got here.”

“Aww, shucks! You mean you wasn’t impressed when I told you those jeans looked better than the low-rise ones you had on that showed the strings of your thong when you bent over?”

She slapped at him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her forward over the loose hay to hug her tightly. Her hands landed on his chest with a snap. She looked up, and before she even had time to shut her eyes, his lips were on hers. Warmth—that’s what she felt at first. As the kiss deepened, it grew hotter, and when his tongue traced the outside of her mouth, it turned downright scorching.

Her knees had no bones in them when he broke the kiss, and she was glad he kept his arms on her shoulders when he took a step back.

“Well?” he said.

“Well, what?” she gasped.

“Judgment day. Did that do more for you than either one of the rich cowboys’ kisses?” He grinned.

“To be fair, I might have to kiss them again.” She tried to control the breathlessness in her tone, but it still sounded hollow. “What about you? Did it do more for you than when you kissed Kinsey and Betsy?”

“I didn’t kiss them. They kissed me. And it wasn’t nothing like what we just shared. That flat-out made my knees go weak. I saw stars and sparkles, and even this old hay looks brighter. Hell, Jill, my mouth is going to feel warm all day after that kiss,” Sawyer said.

“You are full of shit, Sawyer O’Donnell. I believe that you invented the Blarney Stone instead of kissed it.”