Nothing But Trouble (6 page)

Melanie helped Adele prepare a cowboy’s breakfast of steak, eggs and hash browns.  She was surprised to see as much sweat and dirt on Wally as she did on Stoney when they finally made their way to the kitchen table.  No doubt they’d already done a day’s worth of work.

Later on that day, Melanie ventured out to the make shift stable.  It was crude, just a few stalls to house the horses.  She found Stoney there, cleaning the stalls.  The scent of manure and the fresh hay he was forking filled the air.

“I’d like to help,” she said.

Stoney stood up straight and turned to her, perspiration slick over his face.  He fixed her with a hard stare for a few minutes.  Not of anger or irritation, but of uncertainty.  “That’s not necessary.” 

“I know.  I want to.”

He went back to the task at hand, turning his back to her.  “I wouldn’t want you to chip a nail or anything.  Mess up that nice manicure of yours.”

She should have wanted to leave him be, seeing he was obviously letting her know that she was out of place there.  But she was getting bored just sitting around the house doing nothing but watching Adele whirl around from one room to the next doing chores.  Adele insisted that Melanie was a guest and should just relax.  But how could she relax when Stoney and Wally were out in the yard working on Lord knows what, trying to get ahead so Stoney could leave tomorrow?  Since she was the reason he’d be off the ranch, the least she could do was pitch in and help out somehow.

Her first perception of Stoney Buxton was one of an arrogant cowboy.  Well, the arrogant part was true enough, but there was more to him than she’d originally given him credit for.  He was driven.  By what, she wasn’t quite sure.  Maybe it was the survival of the ranch, something ingrained in him that she found intriguing.  Maybe it was pure male ego.  But she didn’t think so. 

“My nails will survive,” she said.

He gave a deep chuckle that sounded so rough and sexy to her ears.  “Not hardly.”

She drew in a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest.  “Have you worked the horses yet?”

His head shot up, and he stopped poking at the hay pile for a moment.  “What do you know about working a horse?”

“More than you’d ever give me credit for.  Since one of these horses is going to be my best friend for the next month, I’d say it’s about time I got to know him.”

The shocked look on his face told her he wasn’t quite sure just where she was coming from.  Good.  In her estimation it was always best to keep a man guessing. 

“I can work the horses while you finish cleaning the stables.  That will free you up to do whatever else is pressing.”

He just stared at her, seemingly searching her face for...something.  “I’ve got to see if I can round up some stray cattle and...”  He pulled his hat off his head and rested his arm on the rail behind him.  His dark hair was wet with perspiration and the ends curled around his ears, giving an almost boyish look to him.  “You know, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know.  I want to do it.”  She slipped her hands in the pockets of her jeans and lifted her chin.  “If only to prove to you I’m no little pampered wuss.”  She didn’t quite know why that was so important to her that Stoney respect her that way.  But suddenly, it meant a lot that he see what she was really made of.

He gave her a slow smile that rewarded her with the deep dimples she’d looked for just yesterday.  For a minute she thought he’d tease her, but to her surprise, his expression softened.  “I never said you were a wuss, Sunshine.”

“Good.  Because I don’t expect to be treated like one.”

He drew in a deep breath and looked around, as if trying to assess a long list of what needed to be done. “Have you ever worked horses before?”

She nodded. 

“That should keep you busy for a while.  If we don’t work them, they get lazy.”

She swung around, trying to keep the strange stirrings she had whenever she was face to face with Stoney at bay.  She was acutely aware of his eyes on her back as she walked away from the stable.

This is ridiculous.  Stoney was completely different than the other men she knew.  Most of them were beasts in the business world, trying to one up the next guy for a chance at an office with a view on the top floor.  Stoney was just trying to make a living on the grounds of Black Rock Ranch.  His dedication to this place ran deeper than the desire for money and fame.

He’s just a cowboy.  Melanie bit her bottom lip, tasting the remnants of her lipstick as she gripped the splintered plank of the corral gate.  She yanked it with full force.  He’s just a damned, sexy cowboy.  Lord, was she ever in big trouble.

# # #

Chapter Three

Stoney plunged his hand into the old whiskey barrel by the stable and splashed his face with the cold rain water.  With the back of his hand, he wiped the dripping water from his forehead.  He couldn’t help but steal a glance in the direction of the corral where Melanie was working the horses.  She’d pulled off the sweatshirt she was wearing earlier and now only wore a white tank top that clung like a second skin to every curve of her body. 

She moved with the horses in the corral, and he listened to her soothing voice as she spoke to them, coaxing them, rewarding them with a slice of apple or a nugget of sugar.  The beauty becoming friends with the beast.

Yeah, he’d been watching her.  What man with hot blood running under his skin wouldn’t?  She was a dangerous creature to have around if he planned on getting work done.  He damn near stabbed his foot with the pitchfork once or twice just thinking about her.

He bent down, dunking his head into the barrel, shocking his hot skin.  He'd hoped to ward off some of the urges that kept causing him to glance back over at Melanie.  But it was no use.  The only way he’d keep his mind on his work was if he were miles away from the woman.

The sun was still high in the sky when he finished filling oats in the feed bin.  But it would only be an hour or two before it sunk low in the horizon, painting pictures against the mountain sides in a mesmerizing pallet of color.  It was his favorite time of the day, when everything was winding down.  After living in Wyoming his whole life, Stoney still didn’t tire of seeing the beauty of his land around him. 

His land.  How much longer would he be able to make that claim?  He should be grateful that Melanie was providing him a solution to some of the ranch's financial problems.  Instead, she was just a distraction.

He shook the drops of water from his head and rid himself of the thoughts that had plagued him every day.  He didn’t have time to wallow in what might happen.  He needed to get to work.  Now was a good time to go out in search of the stray cattle.  After a day of sun they’d be moving to one of the water holes no doubt.  Maybe he’d get lucky.

The ride out the back trail would give him time to clear his head before coming in and facing Melanie for the evening.  She was still riding bareback on one of mares when he pulled Thunder, his favorite horse, from the corral.  He was almost done saddling his horse when Melanie came into the stalls.

“I’m done with the horses.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to ride out with you,” she said, reaching up to gracefully stroke Thunder’s muzzle with her fingers.  It had him thinking of how her hands would feel... 

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” he said.  “I’m sure Ma could use your help in the house, if you’re still looking for something to do.”

There was a silence, except for the distant sounds of the horses whinnying and the occasional cow mooing in the distance. 

“I was hoping to take that pretty chestnut quarter horse for a ride.  You know, the smaller one.”

Stoney swung around and looked out at the corral to where Melanie was pointing.  “Dolly.  She can be skittish.”

“Most horses can be skittish at times.  She seems gentle with me.  I’d like to take her out and get to know her a bit before we leave tomorrow.”

He drew out a breath and grunted.  This was the last thing he needed.  But if she had her heart set on taking Dolly up in the mountains, then it was best they got to know each other ahead of time.  At times, Dolly was as unpredictable as the Wyoming weather.  “Go ahead.  I’ll wait while you saddle up.”

He darted a glance in her direction, and though she’d turned away quickly toward the back of the stable where the tack was kept, he caught a glimpse of her satisfied smile.

The ride out to the back of the Black Rock was peaceful.  The sweet scent of the evening was creeping into the cool air around them.  It always eased out the tension in Stoney’s bones, and despite how much on edge his present company made him, today was no different.  He loved this ranch.  The thought that they could lose it all was killing him.  That was the only reason he’d agreed to this crazy idea of acting as a guide for Melanie. 

Still, curiosity was getting the best of him.  The woman riding next to him was a totally different woman than the one who’d landed on his ranch yesterday.  To look at Melanie now, she was completely immersed in the sounds of nature and the scenery in the wide open space around her.  It’s what he’d always loved about living in Wyoming.  But it wasn’t for everyone.  And it definitely wasn’t the kind of living he’d expect a woman like Melanie to embrace.  Had he really misjudged her so?

“Can I ask you a question?” Melanie asked, breaking into the tranquility of the quiet ride.

“Fire away.”

“What’s Stoney stand for?”

He looked straight ahead at the trail they were riding on when he answered.  “Stonewall.”

He heard her quiet laughter.  “That’s fitting.”

He cast her a cold stare.  “It’s tradition,” he said defensively.  “My father is Stonewall the second, my granddad was Stonewall the first.”

“Oh, I see.  Tradition is a big thing in your family?”

He glanced over at her face and couldn’t help but notice her laughter had faded and was replaced by a serious expression that caused sadness in her eyes. 

He shrugged.  “To some folks, tradition is everything.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Then they can keep it.”

“You make it sound like a dirty word when you say it that way.”

“To some people, it is.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.  “Tradition’s a good thing.  Helps you remember where you came from.  Gives you roots.”

“And it traps you.  No thank you, I’d just as soon leave it behind.”

“It sounds like you have some pretty heavy baggage to want to yank up your roots and toss them aside that way.”  He felt a smile tug as his lips.  “But I guess I’ve already had a glimpse of what kind of baggage you carry around.”

She laughed cynically.  “Very funny.  I wasn’t raised with the kind of tradition that gives a person roots.  It’s more like the kind that closes business deals.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Her gaze drifted down, and she shook her head slightly.  “You wouldn’t understand.  My kind of life isn’t like anything you’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t know why, but her remark hit him hard in the chest.  He was sure she hadn’t meant it as an insult, but it sure as hell felt that way.  “You mean it’s not the kind of life us simple folk know.”