Conquering The Cowboy. Kelli Ireland

I didn’t hire a rancher to see me through my recertification. I hired you under the express belief you were a dedicated mountaineer.”

      Muscles along his jaw worked and knotted. “I’m perfectly capable of doing, and being, both.”

      “I disagree.” She crossed her arms and looked at some point well beyond him. “When was the last time you summited, Quinn? Eight months? Twelve? More?” She waved him off when he started to answer. “What you’ve been doing with yourself over the last several months may not matter so much to you, but it matters very much to me. I decided to hire you, signed the contract you required, paid your well-above-the-going-rate fee up front and then came to you, and I did it all based on your skills and qualifications as I understood them.”

      “And? I’m not tracking here, Taylor.” He leaned one hip against the rear door of her quad-cab pickup and mimicked her, crossing his arms over his chest. “If this is about the cabin rental, it’s not that big a deal. The arrangement caught me off guard, but it’ll be fine—easier, even, since I intended to have you come out here every day to train, anyway.”

      Her lips thinned. “This isn’t about the cabin.”

      “Then break it down for me. Why, exactly, can’t I ranch and climb? Is there some cosmic law that says a man is capable of one but never both?” he demanded, words razor sharp.

      “I’m sure you can do both and be good at both. But to be the best at something, you have to focus, dedicate yourself and give your complete time and attention to that one thing.”

      His chin rose slowly until narrowed green eyes met her hazel ones. Drawing a deep breath, then another, he worked to keep his tone level and his hands from shaking. “That may be the most screwed-up logic I’ve ever heard. It’s like saying a man can’t be a CEO and a father.”

      The corners of her eyes tightened and she looked away. “Yeah? Well you hit that nail square on the head,” she muttered, carrying on before he could question her. “For a man to be the best CEO, he has to dedicate himself wholly to that pursuit. He can’t shut it off when he gets home and give the same time and focus to being a father.” She met his gaze, then. “The demands of the CEO are always there, always hovering and commanding his attention, even as his kid does the same. Sure, he can give a percentage of his attention to one and the remaining percentage to the other, but he can’t give his full time and attention to both, and never at the same time. And just because he’s a father doesn’t mean he’s not a CEO and vice versa. So he’s forever divided and only half as good as he might have been if he’d dedicated himself wholly to only one pursuit.”

      “I disagree.” Anxiety, as unfamiliar as it was unwelcome, created distinctive half-moons of sweat under his arms. He instinctively picked up her suitcase when she reached for it and tried to check his panic. “I’ll carry this for you.”

      “No need. I’m not staying.”

      He froze. This wasn’t happening. Quinn needed this climb too bad for her to bail on him now. No, the climb wasn’t what he needed. It was the fee. If she walked, he’d have to refund at least half the money she’d paid him based on the contract she’d referenced—the contract he had drafted. That couldn’t happen, in large part because he’d spent two-thirds of it to settle the vet’s bill for vaccinating the weanlings. There was no money to return.

      “If you’ll move your foot, I’ll grab my gear and get out of your way.”

      He looked down, confused. “My foot.”

      “You’re standing on my duffel handle.”

      Something in him snapped, and he ground his boot—and the handle—into the dirt. “So that’s it. You track me down, hire me, show up and take one look around before deciding I’m not focused or dedicated or single-minded enough to be damn good at what I do.” He leaned into her space, closing the distance until they were nearly nose to nose. “Who the hell do you think you are, putting me through the front-end work of interviewing you, checking references and all that shit only to have you show up and immediately declare me ‘unfit’ just because you don’t like the backdrop I’m standing against? Is that your MO, Taylor, to pick and choose only what agrees with your definition of the world and deny everything, and everyone, else?” His eyes widened as hers narrowed. “Wow. Okay, fine. If you’re that willing to quit before your first day of ground work, it’s probably a good thing you’ve put on the brakes.” He stepped back and picked up her duffel, tossed it in the bed of her truck and started for the house.

      “I’m not quitting,” she called after him with open defiance. “And it’s my right to put on the brakes.”

      “Sure it is. It’s just...” He waved her off. “Never mind. Best of luck to you.”

      “Just what?” she demanded.

      “I’ve never once had someone with a quitter’s attitude complete my groundwork let alone make it up the mountain, and trust me, Taylor. This is a quitter’s attitude no matter how you dress it up.” Quinn didn’t slow or turn back when he delivered the kill shot. “You didn’t stand a chance of passing the re-cert. This saves us both the embarrassment—you from failing and me from failing you.”

       4

      HE...DID...NOT...

      Taylor took off after Quinn, yanking on his arm hard enough he was forced to face her. “What?” he bit out.

      “How dare you call me out for quitting,” she spat. “You don’t know me.”

      “I know you about as well as you know me, darling. I’d be willing to amend my opinion, though.”

      She waited.

      One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I’d add that you’re a quitter riddled with hypocrisy, coming down here and dishing out judgment on a stranger and then getting your back up when he does a little of the same in return.”

      Stepping into his space, she was forced to tilt her chin up and arch her neck in order to see him. “You don’t get to make those allegations, not about me and never to me. Ever.”

      “Too late to warn me off, seeing as I just did.” He waved her away. “Get in your truck and head back to wherever you came from. I have no doubt you’ll be able to find someone willing to sign off on your paperwork for the right price. People like you seem to always have some kind of contingency plan.”

      “Wait. ‘People like me.’ Sounds a little like a snap judgment there, Quinn.” The taunt hung there, suspended between them.

      He didn’t comment.

      “I have to have this recertification, but I fully intend to earn it. I don’t buy my way out of tight spots or life’s inconveniences, thanks.” He was right. Her back was up. She knew it. But this man pushed every button she had and accused her of all sorts of asinine stuff, to boot.

      To say she’d buy her recertification...

      First lesson dear old Dad taught me—achieve your goal, no matter what it takes or who you have to pay off.

      Not a lesson she intended to employ.

      The problem she faced was getting the recertification before her official post-accident medical leave expired. If she didn’t report for duty by that date, certification in hand, her job-protected leave would expire. The unit would have to open her job up to outside applicants and fill the position. She wouldn’t be guaranteed a spot.

      Crap.

      Taylor took a step away from Quinn and was struck nearly dumb at the realization that the man in front of her represented her best, and possibly only, shot at achieving her end goal. It changed things, and while she loved the idea of walking away under the power of moral superiority, that was so not going to happen. Truth? She had to decide whether she’d take her serving of crow with hot sauce or gravy, because