frown into a pleasant smile. It didn’t.
“Okay, Forest Stevens, what’s the problem?”
She stood before a stainless-steel table where dried brown bones were laid out in the quasi-pattern of a human being. Forest averted his gaze from the remnants of death to her.
“No problem,” he replied easily. “You’re staying in the room next to mine. I just figured it was about time we spoke.”
“Good. Now we’ve spoken. Goodbye.” She dismissed him by turning her slender back on him.
Forest stepped out the tent entrance and heaved a sigh of frustration. He shouldn’t be dismayed by her curtness. At least he knew not to take it personally. She hadn’t been friendly with anyone on the ranch. Even Dillon called her Dr. Dreadful or the dragon lady behind her back.
Dusty Crawford, the youngest cowboy working on the ranch, stood just a few feet away, and his dimples flashed as he grinned at Forest. “Ah, cut off right at the knees,” he said. “At least that brings you down to my height.”
“Very funny,” Forest replied and set his hat back on his head. “Besides, I wasn’t cut off anywhere. All I wanted to do was introduce myself to her and I accomplished that.”
The two men headed for the stables. “Dillon says the woman breathes fire whenever she opens her mouth.”
And a fine mouth it was, Forest thought. Perfectly formed with just enough plump to look utterly kissable. He grimaced and shoved the thought aside.
“He also says she must eat nails for breakfast and spits them out with a sharp sting with her temper. Even Cassie insists the woman has ice in her veins,” Dusty continued.
Cassie. There was still a dull ache in Forest’s heart when he thought of his new young boss. Three months ago Cass Holiday had been killed in a tornado that had ripped through the property. She’d left behind twelve cowboys who had loved her like a mother and a legacy of high standards and loyalty.
Cass had left the successful ranch to her niece, Cassie Peterson, a New York artist and shop owner. Over the last two months Cassie had surprised them all. With the help of foreman Adam Benson, she had jumped right in to learn the ropes of running such a big operation.
She wasn’t the woman her aunt had been, but she appeared to be trying her best to learn all there was to know about ranch life. Still, the cowboys working the Holiday spread considered themselves Cass’s cowboys, not Cassie’s men.
“Are you going into town tonight?” Dusty asked, pulling Forest from his thoughts. “It’s Saturday night, so I figure I’ll grab dinner at the café and then maybe amble over to the Watering Hole for a few beers.”
“I think I’ll just stick around here,” Forest replied. “You know you could always eat in the cowboy dining room right here and then head out to the Watering Hole,” he said in mock innocence.
“I’m just kinda in the mood for Daisy’s Saturday night meat loaf special, and I know Cookie is planning on burgers tonight.”
“Tell the truth, you couldn’t care less about meat loaf—you just want to go to the café to try again to sweeten up Trisha,” Forest said, referring to one of the waitresses who worked on Saturday nights.
Dusty heaved a disheartened sigh. “I’ve been trying to sweeten up that woman for months, and she’s having nothing to do with it.”
“Then why don’t you just give it up? There are plenty of other single women in Bitterroot just waiting for a young buck like you to take an interest in them.”
They reached the stables and both headed to the sawhorses where saddles were slung across the tops. “She gives me mixed messages,” Dusty said. “She isn’t married and yet she doesn’t date anyone. I sometimes see her watching me when she thinks I’m not looking. I’m not a bad-looking guy, right?”
“You’ve got a certain charm about you with all that blond hair and those deep dimples, but you’re definitely not my type,” Forest replied with a wry grin.
Dusty grabbed his saddle by the horn and pulled it off the sawhorse. “One of these days she’s either going to tell me to get lost or agree to go out with me. Until one of those things happens, I’ll be eating meat loaf at the café on Saturday nights.”
Forest watched as Dusty headed for the stall where his horse was housed. He feared that Dusty was caught up more in the challenge of the chase than guided by any real feelings for the pretty waitress.
Time would tell how things worked out for Dusty and Trisha. Not my problem, Forest thought and grabbed his own saddle and headed for his horse, Thunder. Thunder was a large brown horse, but it took a big horse to carry a big cowboy.
Dusty rode up to Forest. “What about the barn dance next Friday night? Are you planning on going?”
“Haven’t made up my mind yet,” Forest replied.
“Abe always throws a heck of a party.”
“I know,” Forest agreed. Over the years Forest had been to many of Abe Breckinridge’s barn parties. It was always a good time for all who attended.
“You know most of us will go. We need somebody who can carry Sawyer to the back of a truck at the end of the night.”
Forest grinned as he thought of fellow ranch hand Sawyer Quincy. The man rarely drank, but when he did, it didn’t take much alcohol to put him totally under the table.
“I’m sure if I don’t go then somebody else will manage to get Sawyer home safe and sound.”
Dusty nodded and left the stables. It took Forest only minutes to saddle up and ride out into the bright morning and head toward the distant pasture. Today he had to check out the cattle stock and make sure they all appeared healthy and no prey had attacked them overnight.
There were eleven cowboys currently working the ranch. They had lost one a month ago when Lucas Taylor had moved on to a small ranch of his own with his girlfriend Nicolette and her son, Sammy. The two were getting married in a couple of weeks.
Then, another ranch cowboy, Nick Coleman, had also found love and moved off the ranch to a nice two-story house in the small nearby town of Bitterroot, but Nick continued to work here from dawn until dusk and then went home to his wife, Adrienne, each evening.
Lucky Lucas and lucky Nick, they had both found love and were building a future with the special women who had captured their hearts.
It didn’t take long for Forest to reach the large herd of Angus cattle. He waved to Flint McCay who rode along the fence line, checking for breaks.
The mid-July sun was hot on his back as he cut through the cattle, looking for any that might appear sick or wounded. This was the core wealth of the ranch—the livestock and the contacts Cass had made in the beef industry. They had built Cass a small empire and a respected name in the state and beyond.
Thoughts of the woman who had taken him on as a homeless teenager vanished as thoughts of another woman filled his head. He had no idea why he was so intrigued with Dr. Patience Forbes.
She’d been a prickly pear since the moment she’d arrived,
