Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

Silence.

They both said, “Look,” at the same time.

Bran smiled. “Ladies first.”

“I may not have cleaned barns or spread hay, but I have been working since I was twelve years old. I’ve babysat, served fast food, cleaned motel rooms, waitressed, sold clothes in a retail store. I have a great work ethic. I’m not afraid to try new things, nor am I set in my ways on how ranch work should be done, as I suspect other hired hands with experience might be. So if you’re wanting a reliable worker you can train to do things the way you want them done, that would be me.”

“Nice pitch,” he murmured.

Harper blushed.

Oh, hell, no. Not a blusher. The pretty pink tinge on her cheekbones made him wonder if her whole body flushed that color.

“I don’t want permanent employment,” she said, forcing his thoughts away from the image of her rosy naked body rolling around in his flannel sheets.

“Why’s that?”

Harper gave him a sardonic look. “No offense, but I can’t wait to get out of Muddy Gap.”

“Remind me again how you ended up in our part of Wyoming?”

“My mother hooked up with some trucker from here when we lived in Montana, so she followed him, once again believing it was true love, which once again lasted, oh, about four months before she kicked him to the curb.”

Bran was tempted to chuckle, but he didn’t think Harper saw the humor in the retelling even now, so he kept quiet.

“Moving again was the dead last thing I needed, since I’d just started my final year of high school. But Mom never cared what any of us wanted. However, she couldn’t force the issue because I’d won a couple of pageant titles that required me to live in the area for the duration of the reigning year.”

“How many titles did you win?”

“Six. Sounds like a lot, but Wyoming can’t boast a big pool of candidates to choose from, so some I won by default.”

That was . . . humble. And unexpected. He’d figured with the knockout way she looked, she’d be cocky as hell.

Hasn’t she already pointed out once that you’ve prejudged or maybe misjudged her?

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, as if the rumor mill hadn’t churned the instant the “hot jailbait blonde” rolled into this sleepy Wyoming town.

“Six years. Longest we’ve stayed any where.” She frowned. “Although Mom didn’t make it that long. Anyway, as soon as Bailey graduates from high school, we’re gone. Celia made it sound like your hired man would be back on his feet by then?”

Bran nodded.

“How did he get hurt?”

“A freak accident. A bull stomped on Les’s foot and when he fell, he twisted his body, breaking his hip when he hit the dirt. Never had that happen before.”

“Ouch.” Harper sipped her coffee.

He sent her a challenging look. “But be aware. Accidents happen with the livestock and the equipment all the time. I’ve been kicked damn near every place on my body. I’ve practically ripped my hand off fixin’ fence. Almost lost my arm getting tangled up in a rope with a runaway horse. I’ve nearly been struck by lightning. I’ve been tossed on my ass by a horse. Knocked on my ass by cows and by bulls. Flipped over my ATV. Got my rig stuck in the mud. And in the snow. I’ve been chased by bulls. Chased by cows. Been stung by bees, wasps, and hornets. Almost burned up in a wildfire a time or twenty.”

“You trying to scare me off?”

“No, I’m sharin’ the cold hard facts so you know what you’re up against.”

“So you’re considering me for the job?”

Say no. “Possibly. Can you work seven days a week?”

Harper paled a little. “Ah. Sure.”

“It’s only until we’re through the worst of calving. Then it’ll be more normal.”

“Normal being . . . what?”

“Six in the morning until four in the afternoon.”

“What’s the pay?”

Bran shrugged. “Negotiable.”

“That isn’t a dollar amount. I need a solid number.”

He tossed out a number, but he honestly wasn’t sure what Les made. “One hundred dollars a day.”

Her eyes widened. “For how many hours a day?”

Harper wasn’t the pushover he’d imagined. Not that he would take advantage of her, but it was encouraging that she paid attention to details. Maybe she’d be detail-oriented on the job too. “A ten-hour day. Obviously any hours you logged over forty in a seven-day period you’d get paid time and a half. Paychecks are cut every other week by my accountant.” He drained his coffee. “Is that more or less money than you expected?”

“More.”

Well, well. Miss Half A Dozen Beauty Titles didn’t hedge either. “I ain’t gonna lie. It’s damn hard work.”

“I know.” Harper’s forehead crinkled and he was as fascinated by her coy demeanor as the long, sooty eyelashes that brushed her cheek. Those had to be fake, didn’t they?

Bran’s cell phone rang, breaking his contemplation of other parts of Harper that might be fake. “Hello.”

“Thought I’d catch ya nappin’.”

He snorted. “I’m nappin’ just about as much as you are these days, Hank. What’s up?”

“Same old, same old. Lainie wants to know if you’re free for supper tonight.”