Bachelor Cowboy. Roxann Delaney

“Any chips to go with this?”

      Kate sighed again and reached behind her to pull a bag of potato chips from the cupboard. “Just a handful. Leave some for Dusty.”

      Aggie opened the bag and popped a chip in her mouth, a satisfied smile on her lips. “He’s working out real good,” she commented, reaching for another.

      Kate grabbed the bag and pulled out a handful of chips, set them on the table in front of her aunt and folded the top of the bag over. “He’ll do.”

      “You get along with him all right, don’t you?”

      Kate nodded. She couldn’t tell her aunt how being around Dusty made her feel. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. But she knew she didn’t like feeling it, and she didn’t like him telling her what to do. “Maybe you can take these sandwiches out to him,” she suggested. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him than she had to.

      “Can’t,” Aggie told her, pointing at her elevated leg. “My knee’s really been bothering me today.”

      Kate frowned. “I hope that doesn’t mean rain.” She hated thunderstorms, and rain would put a stop to harvest for a day or two, at the least.

      “Could mean a lot of things,” Aggie replied.

      Kate looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      Aggie shrugged, picking up her sandwich. “Maybe it was just driving that truck today. Or maybe it’s another sign that it’s time I retired from active farming.”

      There it was again, and Kate wasn’t sure how to answer. Was her aunt hoping for a different response from her than she’d had earlier, now that she’d had a little time to think it over? “You’re not that old, Aunt Aggie. We both know that.”

      “Getting older every day,” Aggie answered. “Now you get those sandwiches out to Dusty. I’m sure he’s hungry again by now, and I can see the combine headed in this direction.”

      Kate looked out the door to the field. “He’s hardly been out of it since dinner,” she commented, more to herself than the other woman.

      “He’s a hard worker,” Aggie agreed. “A good man, I’d say.”

      “A hard worker, for sure, but a good man? That remains to be seen.” Kate turned back and noticed her aunt looking at her, a slight smile on her face. “Don’t you be getting any ideas.”

      Aggie’s eyes widened. “Who said I was?”

      “Right,” Kate said, unable to hide her sarcasm. Picking up the plate of sandwiches again, she stuck the bag of chips under her arm. “I guess I’d better get out there before he takes off on another round.” Heading for the door, she grabbed a jug of iced tea.

      “We’ve got a good week and a half of this if it doesn’t rain,” she heard Aggie say as she stepped out the door. “Think you can hang on that long?”

      “Sure,” Kate answered. As long as she didn’t have to spend all of it with Dusty.

      The combine slowed and came to a stop as Kate reached the edge of the field where she’d left the diesel tank earlier before going in to fix the sandwiches. She waited as Dusty set the machine to idle and climbed down.

      “I need to fuel up,” he told her, eyeing the pile of sandwiches in her hand.

      She handed him the plate and bag of chips and set the jug on the ground. “You go ahead and eat, and I’ll fill the combine.”

      She had turned toward the tank when he grabbed her arm. “I can fill it,” he told her, his eyes hard.

      Pulling away, she tried to steady her suddenly thumping heart. “It’s my job.”

      “Not by a long shot.” He handed the food to her. “Do you think I don’t know what my duties are as combine driver?” he asked, softening his voice with a smile. “And I won’t waste away. Not after that dinner today.”

      Kate didn’t move while Dusty put the diesel hose into the fuel opening of the combine, switched on the tank motor, and turned to her. “When you’re the combine driver, you get to fuel it, okay?”

      She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his decision, that as the owner’s niece, she could decide who did what. But that meant engaging him in a conversation about things that really weren’t his business.

      When he’d finished refueling, Dusty accepted the sandwich she gave him and took a bite, looking as if he was lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked, motioning to the plate balanced on the truck hood.

      Kate shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

      “You didn’t finish your dinner either,” he pointed out. His gaze slid down her body and back up again. “And you sure don’t need to be on a diet.”

      Kate’s body did a slow burn, and she did her best to explain it away to herself as a flash of anger. But she knew that wasn’t completely true. No matter how much she didn’t want to be attracted to him, she was. But only a little.

      “Clayborne women tend to be small,” she said, wishing she could disappear.

      “I’ve noticed.”

      Unable to vanish and needing to change the subject to anything else, she decided to try a topic that might hold his attention and keep him talking about himself. Better him than me, she thought. “I hear you were a champion bull rider.”

      His eyes narrowed. “I am a champion bull rider.”

      Kate shrugged, trying to shake off his intense gaze. “Sorry I got it wrong. Any reason why you’re helping us, instead of riding bulls right now?”

      “I’m recuperating from some injuries and waiting for a release from my doctor.”

      “What kind of injuries?” It wasn’t that it mattered or that she cared. And it wasn’t because she didn’t want to return to the house. There was plenty of work waiting for her there, but she was curious and it would wait.

      He gave her a sideways glance, and then stared off at something in the distance. “The usual. Ribs, shoulder, head. Nothing I haven’t had before.”

      “And in the meantime you decided to cut wheat for the Clayborne ladies?”

      “Whatever comes up,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

      “Then you weren’t necessarily looking to help with harvest, just needed something to do. Don’t you make plans?”

      He turned to look at her. “Sure I have plans. I ride bulls.”

      “That’s it?” She couldn’t believe someone wouldn’t have some kind of plan with a goal for the future. As with most professional athletes and especially one with the kinds of injuries bull riders dealt with, rodeo couldn’t be all there was. “What do you do when you’re not riding bulls? Off season?”

      He studied her, his expression puzzled. “Why all the questions?”

      Fearing he might think she had some special interest in him, she thought it best to back off a little. “I just wondered, that’s all. Most people plan for the future.”

      “Some might.”

      “But you don’t?”

      His gaze was hard and determined. And stubborn. “My future is my present. Riding bulls.”

      “No plans for family? Retirement?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

      Taking another sandwich, he looked back at her with a smile. “Retirement when it happens, but I don’t expect it to be soon. Family never.”

      She had to bite down on her lip to keep from asking why family wasn’t in his plans. She was pretty sure she knew the answer. When she was still in high school, she’d heard