a problem with that.”
“Nope.” Nathan used his sleeve to blot the sweat on his forehead, then readjusted his Stetson. October mornings and evenings were nice and cool, but the direct afternoon sun could still be sweltering some days.
“You expecting company?” Woody stared past him toward the driveway.
Only if hell had frozen over. Nathan turned and saw the small blue pickup. It was too far away to see who was driving, though it didn’t matter. He hadn’t invited anyone, and folks who knew him knew better than to show up without being asked.
A minute later he saw a woman behind the wheel wearing sunglasses, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She parked the truck close to the bunkhouse where the men kept their vehicles, then climbed out. Her legs were long, her jeans tight and she was wearing funny-looking boots.
“You know her?” Woody asked, squinting against the sun’s glare.
Nathan shook his head, not that Woody noticed. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the woman. Working in front of the east barn, Scotty and Justin stopped fueling the ATVs to watch her walk across the gravel. Even Big John pulled his head out from under the hood of the bale retriever. If that wasn’t enough of a shock, since the guy had no use for women since his divorce, he grinned at her.
“Did you see that?” Woody muttered, brushing the dust off his shoulders when she veered toward them.
She wasn’t dressed to call attention to herself, not in that oversize blue T-shirt, but she got it all the same. It was those legs. Damn, they were long. She had to be about five-nine, even without those silly boots. And she had just enough sway in her hips to fire up a man’s pulse without letting him think he was being played. But a woman who looked like her? Who was used to men staring and not being bothered by it? Nathan had a feeling she knew what she was doing. Woody thought Nathan was cynical when it came to women, implied he was getting to be as bad as Big John. Nathan just hadn’t forgotten how complicated they were.
“Hi,” she said as she got closer, putting her hand out and smiling at Woody. “Mr. Landers? I’m Bethany Wilson.”
“No, ma’am, I’m Woodrow Knudsen.” He yanked off his hat. “You can call me Woody, same as everyone else.”
Nathan folded his arms across his chest, though she hadn’t even glanced at him. He’d finally realized who she was, right before she’d given her name.
Her smile stayed in place, and so did her extended hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Woody.”
He dragged his palms down the front of his grungy Levis. “Ma’am, I’m awfully grimy.”
“So am I.” She pushed her sunglasses up on her head and inspected the dark smudges on her hand. “How rude of me not to have checked first. I’m sorry,” she said with a soft laugh. “It’s stain from yesterday, so it wouldn’t have rubbed off on you. It doesn’t seem to want to come off at all.”
“Paint thinner ought to do the trick,” Woody said, grinning so hard you could see where his back teeth were missing. He noticed Nathan watching him and sobered, clearing his throat. “This here is Nathan Landers.”
“Oh.” She turned to him and blinked, surprise flickering in her face. Her gaze went to his mouth and jaw, then slid up to his eyes. “I didn’t—” She smiled again. “Mr. Landers, I’m Beth—”
“I heard you the first time.” He kept his arms folded. “What is it that you want, Ms. Wilson?”
Her eyes narrowed, assessing him, her poise unshaken. “I left you two voice mails. I have the feeling you got them.”
“I did.”
“And had you wanted to talk to me, you would’ve returned my calls,” she said very matter-of-factly.
“Sounds about right.”
“What calls?” Woody asked, looking confused and peeved. “I thought you didn’t know her.”
He wasn’t up to dealing with Woody’s disapproval just because she was a woman. She hadn’t been invited, period. “Go hire the kid,” Nathan said, jerking his head toward the corral. “Let him start when he wants and pay him for today.”
When Woody didn’t move, Nathan frowned at him.
“First off,” Woody said, jamming his hat back on his head. “I reckon I know how to handle a new hire. And second, I ain’t gonna interrupt him in the middle of breaking that mare.”
Beth had turned her gaze to the corral. It wasn’t just her legs that had drawn his interest...she had pretty eyes, he’d give her that, too. They were kind of green with flecks of gold and brown. When she cringed and put a hand to her throat, he turned to see what had caused her alarm.
Brian had taken another trip over the mare’s head and landed on his ass in the dirt. The kid cussed like a veteran. Woody chuckled and even Nathan smiled a little.
“Wow,” Beth said. “Is this how you interview people? Good way to get free labor.”
“What’s that?” Woody obviously didn’t understand her jab, but Nathan did, and he sure didn’t appreciate it.
“Well, Ms. Wilson,” he said, tugging down the rim of his Stetson to block the sun. “I’m sorry you made the drive out here for nothing. You should’ve taken the radio silence as a clue.”
She stared at him, her lips parting. “Wait. Can’t we talk about it?”
Nathan had started to turn for the house but stayed right where he was, his gaze lingering on her mouth. The shape and lushness of her lips went straight to the plus column, right under eyes and legs. A stiff breeze stirred stray wisps of fine blond hair around her flushed face and molded the T-shirt to her breasts. They weren’t small. The damn plus column was getting too crowded.
“Talk about what?” Woody looked back and forth between them. “Hells bells, Nathan, do you know what this is about?”
“The lumber we had delivered this morning. Ms. Wilson seems to think there’s a mix-up.”
“Not exactly. Jorgenson gave you my shipment and he’s making me wait for the next one. I know you’ve been a customer forever and I’m new to Blackfoot Falls, but it was wrong. He shouldn’t have done that. I’m not implying it’s your fault. Or your problem.” She stopped for a quick breath. “I’ve had trouble getting workers, but I finally have two guys coming to my place tomorrow morning. But without the lumber...” She shrugged, her gaze flickering to Woody, then back to Nathan. “If you don’t need it right now, or if there’s any way you can wait until Friday...”
Her voice faded along with the hope in her eyes.
“Well, shoot, Jorgenson had no call to do something like that to such a pretty thing,” Woody said, and boy, did she not like that comment.
Her shoulders went back, her lips thinned. Then she must’ve realized the old guy hadn’t meant anything and she gave him a small smile. “It’s bad business. And please, believe me, I know it’s not your problem. I do. If you can’t spare the lumber I’ll get back in my truck and leave. You won’t hear from me again.”
They
