too high an opinion of himself in school. He’d grinned and teased and called her Freckle Face and pulled her ponytail. She remembered. It had been a relief when he moved away. Sort of.
And my, hadn’t he grown up. She tugged on a pair of gloves, swung her leg over the seat of the quad and fired up the engine. She gave the throttle a shot of gas that sent her lurching away from the barn and toward the twin tracks leading down the hillside to where the herd was grazing. She couldn’t banish the memory of his deep blue eyes staring down at her in surprise, or the intent way he watched her face as she spoke. Never mind he was now at least six feet tall and, from the looks of it, all lean muscle. His hair was military-short and had looked naked without a hat. If it grew out, she imagined it would be a rich auburn, not quite brown and not quite red.
Son of a...
She bounced over a hard rut and gripped the handlebars tighter. Why the hell should she care what color his hair was anyway?
If she was lucky, Duke would spend most of his time with Quinn. Quinn was the real boss here, overseeing most of the ranch operations, especially once Joe had gotten older and his health had declined. Duke could stay out of her way and just let her do her job. She had enough to worry about. Like paying off her mom’s medical bills. The estate hadn’t covered the expense and now, two years after the funeral, Carrie was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe in another year she could stop scrimping and saving quite so much as she got out from under the debt.
Worrying about money wasn’t going to solve the current problem, though. She had cattle to take care of...and a coyote problem to solve. She was just thankful that Duke was here to take over, no matter how annoying she found him on a personal level. Someone needed to take responsibility for the ranch. It wasn’t the perfect situation, but it was better than nothing.
* * *
“COME ON, CARRIE.” Kailey Brandt fell back onto the bed with her arms outstretched. “It’s Friday night. And I don’t want to go to the Wooden Nickel alone.”
Carrie tried not to laugh. The Wooden Nickel was the nickname Kailey had given the Silver Dollar Saloon, saying a dollar was far more than the old bar was worth. “I’m tired. I had a busy week,” she answered.
“Didn’t we all,” Kailey replied, undaunted. “Girl, you’ve been wrangling cows and coyotes. You need to blow off some steam. Have a beer. Flirt with a good-looking cowboy and have a dance or two. Maybe some mattress mambo.”
Now Carrie did laugh. “You just want to see if Colt’s going to be there.”
Kailey turned her head away and the grin slid from her face. “Colt Black can dry up and blow away for all I care.”
Carrie sat down on the bed beside her friend. She and Kailey were close, both being farm girls at heart. Kailey was in charge of the bucking stock over at the nearby Brandt place, and they were both used to working in a physically demanding, male-dominated industry. Once in a while they got together and decided to feel like girls for a few hours. Friday nights at the saloon usually fit the bill.
“What happened between the two of you?” Last Carrie had heard, Colt’s gaze had been fixed on Kailey just as much as hers was on him. The last time they’d been in a room together, Carrie had been certain she could light a fire with the hot looks passing between the two.
“I waited too long. He hooked up with some girl from Great Falls with big hair and bigger boobs.” Kailey looked down at her ample but not overly huge chest. “What is it with guys and breasts?”
Carrie laughed again. Kailey was like a breath of fresh air.
“Please, Car.” Kailey stared up at Carrie with big blue eyes. “If you don’t, I’ll end up spending Friday night at home with the old folks watching Thanksgiving Hallmark movies on TV.” She shuddered.
“Oh, all right. But I’m not staying late. I’m dog-tired, Kailey.” Never mind she’d spent the past few days trying to stay out of Duke’s way. Their paths had only crossed a few times since their initial meeting, and he’d been engrossed in conversation with Quinn, just as she’d wanted it.
So why had she felt so disappointed when he hadn’t answered her hello, but merely nodded and kept walking?
Because she was a damned fool, that was why. Truth was, everything she held dear was tied up in Crooked Valley Ranch. The fact that Duke had showed up had been nothing short of a blessing. He could be as crotchety as he liked, as long as he kept Crooked Valley running and her in a job.
She straightened her shoulders. “I guess I should get dressed, then. And put on some makeup.”
Kailey sat up. “That’s the spirit! You should wear that red shirt with the V-neck. And I’ll fishtail your hair. You’ve got way better hair than I have for that. The braid makes your summer sun streaks stand out.”
And so it was that less than an hour later, both girls walked into the Silver Dollar. It was busy already, and they had to wait for one of the tables on the perimeter of the scarred dance floor. The Dollar had once been an old barn that Cy Williamson had renovated. Right now the latest country hits echoed to the rafters, along with lots of chatter and laughter.
Carrie took off her coat and tugged at the neckline of her shirt. She’d let Kailey steamroll her and now felt conspicuous at the little bit of cleavage revealed by the V. She was wearing makeup, too, eye shadow and a bit of liner and mascara and lipstick, of all things.
Scott Johnson was staring over at their table and Carrie gave Kailey a kick. “You’re getting attention already. Jerkwad Johnson at two o’clock.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Kailey forced a smile. “Let’s get a beer and forget he’s there. First round’s on me.”
Kailey got up and went to the bar rather than waiting for one of the waitresses to make her way over. Carrie watched as several eyes fixed on her friend’s attractive figure as she leaned against the old wooden bar to give her order. She wondered if Kailey really knew how beautiful she was. No matter how dolled up Carrie got, when she was with Kailey she always felt a bit like the ugly stepsister—without the bad temperament.
The double doors opened again and Carrie froze.
In walked Quinn Solomon—he must have got a sitter for his daughter tonight—and Mr. Prodigal Grandson himself, Duke Duggan. Jumpin’ Judas, the man was good-looking. He smiled at something Quinn said and it made his face light up. His jeans fit his lean body just right and he wore a brown coat with a sheepskin collar that made his shoulders look impossibly broad. His boots were clean but not new, and he’d hidden his buzz-cut look beneath a brown hat.
Mercy.
Kailey returned to the table and put down two bottles of beer. “Mother McCree, who is that?” she asked, nudging Carrie’s arm with the cold bottle. “Whoo-eee.”
“My new boss,” Carrie replied drily, blindly reaching for the bottle. “Duke Duggan.”
“What? No way. I don’t remember him looking like that.”
“He was eight when he moved away,” Carrie reminded her. “You were six. Your memory might be a little foggy.”
“Right. Well. This changes the evening significantly.”
There
