My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) (7 page)

It was merely that it had been such a long time since she'd been close to
any
man. A woman couldn't help but yearn for intimacy with a man, even if the current man in question was the wrong man for her.

After a quick stop at the hall bathroom for him to clean up a little, he limped to join her in the hallway. Again, he leaned onto her, and, again, she shoved away thoughts about how close he was, about the heat coming from his body, and where exactly his hands touched her.

When they reached the sofa, Monty Joe quickly let go and landed on it. Almost too quickly.

Had he been feeling the same way she had?

Probably not. If anything, he disliked her so much he couldn't wait to get his hands
off
her.

With any luck, the storm would have abated, and she'd be able to catch a flight to Dallas. She walked over to the window and pulled back the drapes.

It was still too dark to see much of anything, but what she could see from the back light didn't bode well for her plans. Blankets of white snow covered everything. It had to be at least half a foot deep. Gusts of wind lifted clouds of snow.

No, it didn't look good.

"Has it melted?" asked Monty Joe, who couldn't see from his position on the sofa.

"No such luck. I think it might even still be snowing."

He snapped on the TV and tuned it to a local news channel. A banner flashed across the bottom of the screen, stating
Snowstorm Continues
and went on to list various warnings.

It was extremely unlikely she'd be going home today. She slumped into a chair.

As soon as her bottom hit the cushion, Monty Joe asked, "Can you get me the pad of paper and a pen from beside the phone in the kitchen?"

Did he want to write a reminder to himself not to touch her again? Did he want to make a list of the ways he disliked her?

She sighed. "Do you want another aspirin first?"

He glanced down at his leg, then shot her a crooked grin. "That's a good idea. An aspirin, a notepad and a pen. Please?"

"How can I resist?" She headed to the kitchen, wondering how on earth she'd be able to resist a smile like that if she was stuck here with him much longer.

She snapped on the kitchen light. It didn't take long to grab the aspirin, notepad and pen along with a glass of water, then return to the living room. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He swallowed the aspirin, then handed the water glass back as if surprised to see her still standing there. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"

"Dressed?" She glanced down and realized she was still in her pajamas. She resisted the urge to try to cover herself up, not that the pajamas were in the least bit revealing. But still.

"You have animals to care for, and I have notes to make so you'll know what to do once you get to the barn."

"Oh. Okay."

He barely nodded, intent as he was writing notes.

Great. Just great. Not only was she sleep deprived and sore from helping Monty Joe, but there was no telling when she'd be able to leave. She couldn't even call her sister or Carolyn to let them know.

A mix of worry and guilt ate at Lori.

She headed upstairs to get dressed, telling herself Kelli must be aware of Lori's situation and wouldn't be worried since Lori was at the Nelson Ranch. And hopefully Carolyn would have found that spreadsheet and started taking care of things for Lori the no-show.

Considering the way Monty Joe had been feverishly scribbling a to-do list for Lori, Kelli ought to be worried—about what Lori might do to him.

Chapter 8

Monty Joe had looked forward to goading Lori with his list of chores, and quite a list it was, but when she came back into the room, the thought totally dissipated.

She'd pulled her blond hair back into some kind of messy bun that haloed her head. She appeared angelic and sweet, wearing a light-blue shirt and too-tight jeans, with those darn high-heeled boots again. Angelic and hot.

And all wrong for working in the barn.

He fought the urge to tell her how pretty she looked. He fought the urge to ask her to sit down beside him on the sofa. He fought the urge to grab her and finally know what it would be like to kiss her.

Lori had been on best behavior, but her more feisty side had shown through. He expected her baser side to rear its ugly head fully at any time. Leopards don't change their spots.

He just hoped she'd continue faking it until his animals had been tended to.

She came closer and held out her hand. "Looks like you finished your list."

"Here you go." He wanted to chuckle when she saw the length of it, but he bit his lip to keep from grinning. He needed her cooperation, and even if she only did the first items on the list, it would be a huge help.

"I'm glad this is so detailed. I mean, how would an inexperienced woman like me begin to know how to go about properly mucking out a stall?" She batted her lashes at him, but her expression was anything but friendly.

"I didn't mean to imply anything, I just wasn't sure..."

"I get it." She fisted her hands on her hips. "You think I'm a total newbie."

"I'm sure you're not. I don't know how much you don't know." That didn't come out right. The last thing he wanted was to alienate her. "I mean, how much you know."

Lori laughed. "It's okay. There are some items on your list I didn't know. Like where to find the feed."

She sure was being a good sport, and that wasn't a reaction he'd come to expect from her.

What had he expected?

For her to act like a princess.

For her to refuse to help out.

For her to make demands on him, not the other way around.

Maybe she wasn't as awful as he'd thought. Maybe his first impression of her had been wrong. Maybe she hadn't meant to come between her sister and Bobby Gray.

What was he thinking?

Of course she'd meant to come between them, and she'd very nearly pulled it off. Be that as it may, Kelli and Bobby Gray were both extremely fond of Lori, and until now, he hadn't understood why.

For all of Lori's faults, she showed glimmers of being easy to get along with and, most worrying of all, good company.

At the very least, having her around kept him entertained. And if she hadn't been here when he'd fallen, he'd be up a crick without a paddle about now.

"I appreciate your willingness to help, Lori."

"Considering the weather, I don't have anything better to do." She tossed her head. "Besides, I'm happy to help out."

"You know, I believe you are."

She glanced down at his list, then shot him a mischievous grin. "Your notes say the feed is in the storage area—in garbage cans. Now just remind me, what does a garbage can look like?"

He grinned back. "I've got it. From now on, I'll wait for you to ask if something isn't clear to you."

"Perfect." She turned to go, then spun back. "Do you need anything before I go? Coffee? More notepads?"

"I'm good for now."

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

She left and, with her, some of the light in the room left, too.

Oh, yeah. The woman was amusing and entertaining, and if he wasn't careful, he'd go forgetting the trough-full of trouble one petite filly could cause.

Forgetting and letting his guard down could spell disaster. He knew exactly what Lori Palmer was capable of, and didn't want to be another casualty of her wily ways.

He turned the TV back to the weather, wishing for some small glimmer of hope the skies would clear up, the phone service would be restored, and he could go back to life as it had been: snow and Lori free.

When the weatherman mentioned a second front, he snapped the TV back off. He was not getting his wish.

He tried to wiggle his ankle to test it. No go. It was too swollen and painful still. He most definitely wouldn't be helping Lori out in the barn.

This was not his day. Yesterday hadn't been either, and, with the way things were going, he hoped there wouldn't be an entire month of bad days ahead.

Looking around for something to keep him occupied, he found nothing that appealed. A couple of old cattle magazines, a week-old newspaper and a pile of nails.

His gaze landed on the notepad and pen.

Since he and Lori were going to be stuck together for a while longer, maybe he needed to make her another list.

Chapter 9

Feeding the horses and putting them out to pasture, even in the midst of so much snow, wasn't as difficult as Lori had initially feared when she'd read Monty Joe's checklist. However, mucking out the stalls would never be on her bucket list. Ever.

Monty Joe kept a clean barn, but horses do what they must do.

Cleaning up after them wasn't fun. Even with a pitchfork and trashcan on wheels, it was hard and stinky labor.

One stall down, and many to go, Lori wheeled the trashcan to the next stall. When she opened the door, something bumped her from behind.

Lori yelped and grabbed the railing to keep from falling.

She whipped around, and there she saw Billy the Goat smiling up at her.

She grimaced. His smile looked wicked.

"Head-butting without prior warning is forbidden, Billy."

"Mehhhh," he replied.

She was sure she'd locked him up the night before. "How did you get out of your pen?"

"Mehhhh."

"Hah. Not saying, huh?" Maybe she hadn't latched it properly last night. "Come along, and I'll put you back in your pen while I finish up the stalls."

He followed her as she led the way to his pen. The gate was open, so she held it back further and motioned for Billy to go inside.

While he made his way back into the pen, for the first time she noticed a gray spot shaped exactly like a heart on his left rump. Cute.

"Good boy." Lori closed the gate and carefully fastened it. She shook it to make double sure it had locked. "I'll be back to play with you later."

She returned to the second stall, grabbed her pitchfork and got to work. If Kelli could see her now, she'd be proud. As a veterinarian, Kelli was very particular about the proper care of animals, especially farm animals. She was all about cleanliness, and she'd have no complaints about the job Lori was doing. Even Monty Joe could have no objections.

By the time she moved into the fourth stall, light perspiration covered her. She pulled out her shirttail from her pants and used it to blot her forehead, then returned to work.

At about the halfway point, she stopped pitchforking horse droppings and took a moment to stretch her back. She took a deep breath, momentarily forgetting the stench, and instantly regretted it. She rolled up a shoulder and tried to wipe her face and nose with the somewhat-clean fabric of her shirt.

Something tugged on the back of her shirt.

Huh?

She looked over her shoulder. Billy!

And he was eating her shirttail.