12-Alarm Cowboys (163 page)

He stood, his knees cracking. “And last week in Mississippi?”

That busted brake line had been scary as hell. “Again, things happen.”

Pointing a finger at her, he narrowed his gaze. “Not to cars under my watch. And somebody’s ass is going to roll for this.”

She bit her lips to keep from smiling at his mixed metaphor. “Let’s have Uncle Steve run another background check on the pit crew.” She contorted her lips and came up with her cartoon duck voice. “Would that make you happy, Kewwan?”

Kellan’s face turned red. “This isn’t about me, girl. This is about your safety.”

“Sorry.” She used that stupid voice when she was nervous, but it irritated the hell out of nearly everyone she knew.

“You need to remember who—” Kellan groaned as her cell phone rang.

“Hi, Uncle Steve.” She held the phone away from her ear, waiting for the outburst.

“Delta, are you okay?” Her uncle’s voice came through the phone, softer than she’d expected.

“The doctors checked me over, and I’m good.”

He sighed, then went on for a while about safety, about taking precautions, about making sure her car was perfect before she got into it. “And don’t forget, I want a full report of what the area can provide for us. For the project.”

That damn project. She didn’t want to get into it with him now. Not with Kellan in the room and locals wandering through the halls.

“About the car, though. Kellen thinks there might be something more happening.”

“What? What’s going on?”

The nurse walked in with a clipboard. “You’ve got your papers, Ms. Pennington.” She winked at Delta. “And I need your autograph.”

“Listen, I’ve got to do some paperwork here, but call Kellen.” She winked at her crew chief. “He’ll fill you in. Bye.” She hung up before her uncle could start yelling.

“Thanks.” Kellen glared at her before answering his ringing phone. “Yeah, I got a theory. Let me get somewhere private and I’ll call you back.” He hung up on Steven, too.

She grimaced. “He’s not gonna like being cut off by both of us, you know.”

As Delta signed, Kellan snorted. “He sits in that ivory mansion and expects to tell us what to do, when we’re the ones getting’ our hands greasy and risking our lives.” He looked at Delta and his eyes grew shiny.

She smiled at him. “Aw, Kell. I’m fine. You know I’ve got nine lives.”

He grabbed her charred fire suit, set her car keys on the bed next to her, and marched out, mumbling something about ducks and cats.

Delta accepted the release papers from the nurse. “Where is Treven…um…?” She didn’t remember his last name.

“Arnett. He’s in number four.” The other woman gestured to her right and smiled. “He’s one great guy.”

Delta could hear longing in the nurse’s voice. “Are you and he…?”

Her face turned red. “Oh, no. I’m married.” She giggled. “But a girl can still look.” Her face dropped. “I’m sorry. That was…” She turned and nearly ran from the room.

Delta watched her go. “Okay, strange.” She whispered the words as she stood, pocketed her keys in her jeans, then adjusted her Pennington Racing logo T-shirt. She looked in the mirror, finger-combed her hair, and went to find
one great guy
.

He lay so still in the bed, she wanted to check for a pulse. His hands had been wrapped, and his face had been washed. Delta leaned in closer. One of his auburn eyebrows was completely gone. The thought of how much worse he could have been burned had her sucking in an uneven breath. He’d done it for her.
For her.
When had anyone done anything that risky for her? Never, that she could recall.

“I can do it tonight.” A male voice came from the hallway. “But I’ve got to be in Fort Worth tomorrow.”

“Okay, I can handle tomorrow, but I won’t get there ’til sometime after noon.”

Delta recognized the voices and moved toward the open door to close it so Treven could sleep. The two men from the track, Clint and the black-haired man who’d helped her, stood looking at calendars on their phones.

“Shit. His horses have to be fed in the morning. What do you think of setting up a schedule online and get the rest of the crew to take a shift?”

“Leave it open, ma’am.” Treven’s voice came from the bed.

She spun to look at him, and met his dark green gaze. “But you need your rest.”

“They’re trying to split up the work on my ranch, and I’d like to hear how they think they can do it.” He shifted, froze with a pained look on his face, then relaxed. “I’m gonna be helpless for a few weeks.”

Delta’s stomach shifted, thinking of the pain, the scars, the vulnerability this man was facing because of her.

He cocked his head and listened as the guys in the hall plotted and planned.

She shook her head. This was her chance to be useful. To make up for all the times she’d run away from her responsibilities and acted like a pouty, rich brat. She could do this. And she was going to, no matter what roadblocks Treven Arnett threw at her.

As an added bonus, she could let her uncle believe she was doing it to help him with his complicated buyout plan. The big jerk.

Stepping to the door, she poked her head out. “Clint? Could you two come in for a minute?”

The blond man’s brows rose, his gaze shot to his friend’s, then he nodded and they followed her back in.

No one spoke. The three men just stared at her.

She pulled in a deep breath, which caught on a soft cough, and stared at the cowboy. “I’m going to take care of Treven and his horses. For as long as he needs help.”

‡

T
reven wished he
could use a finger to clear his ears. Delta Pennington wanted to work his ranch while he was laid up? Were the pain meds causing hallucinations?

“You’re what?” his friend Rex said on a laugh.

Delta stepped closer to Rex and held out her hand. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Delta Pennington, and I appreciate your help back at the racetrack.”

Rex took her hand, his brows dropping. “Rex Tarrow.” His eyes searched hers. “You serious here?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” She let go of his hand and squared her shoulders, looking back and forth between Rex and Clint. “Any reason why I shouldn’t be?”

Treven held in a laugh. This woman was straightforward, fearless, and so beautiful, he had to keep blinking to reassure himself she was actually breathing the same air as he was.

Clint snorted. “Hay bales that weigh a ton, stalls full of horseshi…” He pursed his lips. “A dozen stalls that need mucking out. Horses that need to be exercised.”

“Worst of all?” Rex gestured toward Treven. “The patient from hell to deal with.”

Treven laughed. “Hey, don’t make her change her mind.” He couldn’t think of anything he’d like more than to haul Ms. Pennington home with him and spend some time with her. For one, he admired the hell out of her, and for two, he could easily fall for a woman with her spunk.

She walked toward his bed. “You’re okay with it? I thought you’d be the one I’d have to convince.”

He shrugged, then instantly wished he hadn’t as the motion jostled his hands. “If you’ve got the time, and you don’t mind a little hard work, I’m glad to accept your offer.”

Behind her, Clint and Rex looked at each other, then back at him with wide eyes. Why the hell shouldn’t he let her come help him? She was a grown woman. Grown very attractively, too. Just having her this close to him sent a tightness to his groin, anticipation to his chest.

Of course, she could be looking at him with pity, like he was a weak foal in need of rescue. But he’d spend the next few weeks showing her—without the use of his hands—that he was one heck of a proud stallion. He smiled as the thought sent heat racing through his veins.

Delta frowned. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” She blinked a few times.

He shifted to cover the rise in his jeans. “I’m good. Would you press the call button, please? Let’s see when I can get out of here.”

*

Hours later, with
a bag full of gauze, ointments, latex gloves, and pain pills, Delta drove her yellow ’67 Shelby Mustang with Treven in the passenger seat to his ranch just outside of town, close to the racetrack. It was the perfect spot for her to make it look like she was only doing this for Pennington Racing, and not because she had a heart and a soul, which her uncle wouldn’t understand.

Driving under an old metal archway proclaiming Rusty Horseshoe Ranch, she smiled. “Cute name.”

He shrugged. “My grandmother’s idea. She and Gramps met when his horse threw a shoe near her ranch outside of Dallas.”

“Romantic.” She pulled to a stop on the gravel driveway in front of a new-looking tan rambler with red shutters and doors. Not what she’d expected at all. “This is nice.” She opened her door and slid out of the car. Looking around, she spotted three barns, corrals with neat white wood fences, and a quonset hut. “How long have you lived here?”

He hadn’t moved.

“Oh, sorry.” Shit, what a dummy. She raced around the car and opened his door.

He gave that sexy little smirk as he swung his legs out and stood. “Not a problem. We’re both gonna have some learning to do up front.” Bumping the door with his hip, he closed it, and offered her his arm. “Quick tour?”

She took his arm, carefully, and let him lead her through the tidy barns then through the unlocked front door of the house. “I’ll go get my things from the car. Be right back.” Delta pulled her suitcase, purse, and the bag of hospital paraphernalia from her car and trudged back inside.

The place was neat and modern, brown leather furniture, hardwood floors and big area rugs, and even curtains that graced the big windows of the living room. The vaulted ceiling made the place look huge, while a big stone fireplace made it cozy. “You have a beautiful home.” She set down her packages.

“Thanks, I have a housekeeper who keeps it tidy.” He shrugged and toed off his boots, leaving them on a mat by the door.

She did the same with hers. “What now?”

His face turned red. “I’m gonna need you to help me.” He hefted in a breath and puffed it out. “Nature calling.”

Her brows drew together. Then it computed. “Oh, right.” How was this going to work?

“I’m thinking that if you can get me out of my jeans and into some pajama pants, I can probably take it from there.”

Delta felt her own face turn red. When she’d thought about her activities for the next two weeks, she’d imagined cooking for him, working in the barn, mowing the lawn. But never had she considered having to take care of his corporeal needs. “No problem.” She looked to where a hallway led out of the room. “That way?”

He nodded. “Room at the end of the hall.”

They walked along the hallway, her in front. The first room was a big office, the second looked empty except for a rocking chair, the third had a large bed and lots of furniture.

“Guest room.” He nodded toward it. “You can make yourself at home in there.”

The final room, taking up the whole end of the house, was his bedroom. Another stone fireplace filled one corner, surrounded by a nice gray sectional couch. His bed was a four-poster affair, big enough for a dozen people.

Treven touched his elbow on a drawer in the tall, heavy-looking chest of drawers. “Would you please?”

She opened it and they found a pair of black lounging pants and a white T-shirt. Going for the top first, she removed his slightly-charred shirt and held it over the hamper. Did he want to keep it? She looked at him, he nodded, and she dropped it in. His chest was bigger than she’d expected, a furring of hair across the pecs extended down the middle of his ripped belly to disappear into his jeans.

Those nice, bulky arms invited her to touch. Low in her belly, jitters started, sending a chill along her skin. He was all male, and sexy as sin on a Saturday night. But, he was injured, and she needed to remember that. With extreme care, she got him into the T-shirt, but spotted scars—burns?—on his shoulder and neck. She looked away. This wasn’t the time to go deep into his history, but he’d said there was another reason why he’d saved her life today.

She reached for his belt buckle.