her head. “I’m here on business.”
Gramps turns a confused look to me. “We need to get going, Gramps, but Dad is inside. He can explain the business that Dakota is here for.” To Dakota, I say, “Ready?”
“It was nice to meet you, Gramps.” She winks at him and turns, going back down the steps.
For a moment I’m frozen, struck dumb by the sway of her hips and remembering the night she was swinging them on the dance floor.
I hurry after her. “This way,” I tell her, chucking my chin sideways toward the side of the house where I park my truck.
She keeps three feet between us as we walk, and I can feel her silent questions coming at me through the separation.
Why did you disappear that morning?
Do you remember me?
“The black one.” I point ahead to my truck with the light gray HCC insignia on the driver and passenger doors. “Hop in. I have to tell the guys something.”
Dakota listens but doesn’t say a word. I veer right and stride to Cowboy House. It’s only thirty feet away. Most of the cowboys are out working, but Josh is sitting out front under the awning, sipping black coffee. He hurt his wrist two days ago while we were working on the fences and is babying it while it heals. In the old days, when my grandpa and great-grandpa ran this place, there’d be no nursing an injury. These days, we’re more interested in keeping the cowboys healthy than toughing something out. Still, there’s plenty of pain in life that only grit will get you through.
Josh’s eyes are on me as I approach, but as I get closer to Cowboy House, I realize Josh isn’t looking at me but through me.
I don’t have to turn around to know who he’s looking at.
“Hey,” I growl, “you want to keep your eyeballs?”
Josh’s attention snaps back to mine. “Yes, sir.”
I come to a stop in front of him. “That’s Dakota Wright. She’s here on business. You got that?” My meaning is loud and clear—she’s off-limits.
He nods once.
Now that that’s out of the way, I can say what I came over here to say. “I’m going to be out this morning. You’re in charge of the cowboys.” Truth is, Josh is just about the only cowboy I trust to take care of the rest of them. He’s responsible, level-headed, and not afraid to smoke someone for stepping out of line.
“How’s that wrist?” I ask, looking at the bandage wrapped around his right forearm.
“Should be fine by tomorrow.”
I doubt that. Three days doesn’t seem like enough, but I’m not going to question him. The man can make that choice for himself.
With a duck of my chin, I turn around and head back to Dakota. She’s standing beside my truck, her shoulder resting against the passenger door. Her arms are folded and she has one ankle crossed over the other with the toe of her boot pressing into the ground.
“It’s locked,” she calls as I get closer. “What’s there to be afraid of up here? The big, bad wolf?” She uncrosses her arms and gestures around. “Someone would have to be crazy to mess with this place. I bet every one of you sleeps with a gun nearby.”
One corner of my lip turns up into a half-smirk. Dakota is both right and wrong. Right in that we sleep with guns nearby. How else do we protect our home and our legacy? We’re miles from help, should we need it.
She’s wrong in that there’s nothing to be afraid of up here.
I stride up to her, reaching across her body for the door handle. I’m close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath and smell whatever goddamn smell it is that intoxicated me so long ago. My stomach tightens and my chest constricts. The woman is a snake charmer, a siren, capable of destroying a man. Specifically, me. Or, she would have before, anyway. I don’t think there’s any heart left in me to destroy.
“I don’t need you to get my door,” she spits out, then seems to remember this meeting is professional, not personal, and softens her tone. “But thank you.”
I don’t stick around to assist her in climbing up. She’s wearing boots and jeans, not a dress, and besides, my truck has running boards. She can manage the climb, but I’m not sure I can manage watching her.
I round the front of my truck, looking away from the windshield on purpose, and think about my family decree