The Rancher's Untamed Heart

When I looked back up at him, my lips were twitching.

"Want to trade shoes?" I asked.

He opened his mouth, angry, and then shut it. Finally, slowly, the scowl on his face as he tapped his foot turned into irritated amusement.

"I do not," he said, very deliberately. "Those shoes look ridiculous, I don't know how you walk in them. I would break my own ankle and you'd have to take me out back and shoot me."

"I'd like a ride," I admitted.

He nodded and we walked over to his truck.

"Need a hand up?" he asked me.

"Yes," I said. He was right. Those shoes were ridiculous.

Before he started the truck, we both sat there, arms crossed, staring out the window at the wall of the restaurant. We could see the table where we'd been sitting. The food hadn't been cleared away quite yet.

I sighed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you."

His arms relaxed, a little.

"I'm sorry, too," he said. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I was trying to boss you around like a hand."

I shook my head.

"I didn't think you were, not really," I said. "It's my own pride, I'm really angry at Herman and I don't want him to do that to me again."

"Are you going to tell him that?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't want to be fired."

Clint shifted in his seat. "I don't want you to be fired, either. I know you like your job and I know you worked for it," he admitted. "It would be pretty lousy for you to have to leave now."

Clint admitting that made me feel a lot better. I relaxed more.

"They haven't touched our plates," I pointed out.

He nodded. "Would you like to go back in?" he asked.

"Well, it sure sounds better than fighting with you and sleeping alone in that crappy apartment of mine," I said.

He nodded, and got back out of the truck, walking around to help me out. I took his hand and swung down.

"There we go, didn't even break your shoe," he said, smiling at me.

We walked back through the restaurant to find that our table was still as we'd left it, money and all. Clint slipped the bills back into his pocket and we moved on, trying to relax and enjoy each other's company.

It was definitely not the easiest meal we'd had, but by the end of it, we were not quite so grumpy, and that helped.

"I meant it, you know," Clint said, in the car on the way to his ranch.

"Sorry?" I said. I'd been staring at the window, enjoying the flashes of night countryside I saw, dozing a little. I sat up and turned to face him again.

He shot me a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"If you ever need to, you can move onto the ranch," he said. "If you don't want to stay in that room, you can have the guest house to yourself."