Название | Winning The Cowboy's Heart |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Karen Rock |
Жанр | Современная зарубежная литература |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современная зарубежная литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474090995 |
“You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t take a chance.” Kevin called from behind the bar.
Heath’s pulse kicked up as the idea of chasing his dream settled inside...like it had a right to be there. The image of Jewel Cade’s rapt face returned to him. Usually she had a chip on her shoulder, a hard exterior and closed-off expression screaming “back off.” Yet tonight, his music had transported even her, an exhilarating experience he wanted to repeat with millions of others. He drew in a long breath, then released it. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Clint clapped Heath on the back, and Remmy shot him an approving nod.
“Don’t forget us when you’re a big shot,” Remmy joked.
“This head ain’t getting any bigger.” Heath donned his hat, pulled the brim low and sauntered outside with his buddies.
After waving them off, he rounded the corner to the rear parking lot. A petite redhead, struggling to haul an enormous spare tire from beneath the bed of her dually, pulled him up short.
“Need a hand?”
His heart did a funny kind of flip when the woman turned, and deep brown eyes met his. Instantly, her surprised expression turned into a scowl.
Jewel Cade.
“Nope.” She dug the heels of her boots into the gravel and heaved backward. Her biceps, revealed by a black tank top tucked into faded Wranglers, strained. With a cry, she fell on her butt, the spare tire still lodged beneath the rear bumper.
“Do you need to change it?” Heath eyed the dual-rear-wheel truck. She could easily get home on what she had.
“I’m. Not. Showing. Up. At. Home. With. A. Flat. Tire,” she grunted, tugging harder.
Heath rubbed the back of his neck, puzzling out the scrappy cowgirl. Why worry about going home with a flat? Her brothers, part of the hot-tempered, impulsive, mouthy Cade clan his family had feuded with for over a hundred years, ribbed her from time to time. Was she sensitive about how they’d react? It seemed improbable. Her impressive left hook kept them in line. Some called Jewel cocky, boastful and brash. Yet he’d glimpsed another side tonight, seen a vulnerable hunger that’d called to him.
“Oof!” She landed hard on her back again and stared up at the brilliant star-studded sky, winded. A warm June breeze ruffled the loose red strands from her braid and carried the scent of decaying pine needles, wet soil and wild honeysuckle.
He held out a hand, but she ignored it, shoved to her feet, and marched back to the spare with her jaw set. “If you keep gawking, I’ll have to charge you for the show.”
“I’m not—”
She angled her face his way, and her bow-shaped lips curved in a knowing smirk that infuriated and excited him. Her rosy mouth nearly blended with the freckles covering her face. She must have as many as the stars overhead, he marveled, taking in her slim nose and lean, angular cheeks. She was sort of cute beneath her frown, like Huckleberry Finn’s younger sister, cowlicks and all. “Now you’re just staring.”
“No... I...” He shifted on his feet. Why did Jewel keep him off-balance and lingering? Heath eyed the empty parking lot and cocked his head at the distant yip of coyotes lurking on the forested slopes surrounding Silver Spurs. “Who are you with?”
“Me,” she panted, the cords of her neck popping as she hauled on the wedged spare harder still.
“No one else?”
“Myself and I.” Her sarcastic tone called a smile to his lips. “Something wrong with that?”
Since he’d only ever dated Kelsey, he had limited experience with women. Kelsey preferred he accompany her everywhere, and his sister, Sierra, was never without at least a four-legged friend. Jewel’s dogged independence, her refusal to ask for help, to depend on someone, intrigued him and left him wondering. Did she have any friends? “No...it’s just... I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Jewel quit tugging to point out a twelve-gauge shotgun mounted on her pickup’s gun rack. “I can handle myself.”
No doubt, yet a desire to help kept Heath’s stubborn feet planted. So much for being a people pleaser. By staying, he angered Jewel, something he usually avoided. But Jewel tapped a stubborn streak he didn’t recognize. Stranger still, he was enjoying their test of wills. “Your mother wouldn’t want me to—”
“Look,” she cut him off, “just because our parents are hitched doesn’t mean you and I are brother and sister now. You’re still a Loveland, which makes you public enemy one.”
He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Just trying to be neighborly.”
“If you want to be a good neighbor, stop suing my family for five million dollars.”
His jaw clamped. “You owe us. A Cade judge revoked our easement across your property without just cause.” Long ago, after the Cades jumped to the wrong conclusions and strung up Everett Loveland for the death of Maggie Cade and the disappearance of her priceless sapphire, the Cades sued to revoke an easement allowing Heath’s family access to the Crystal River to water their herd. With their consistent water source gone, Loveland Hills fell on shaky financial ground that only worsened through the years as summers became drier and drier.
“A lie.” When Jewel staggered backward again, he stepped ahead of her, yanked out the tire and rolled it to the flat.
“Hey!” she protested, but he ignored her, grabbed up a nearby long-handled wrench and fitted the squared-off crank over the tire’s bolts. Within minutes he’d whipped off the flat and heaved it over the top of her truck bed.
“Not bad for a Neanderthal,” Jewel drawled behind him.
“Neanderthal?” When he turned, she’d already fitted the spare into place and stretched a hand out for the wrench. He passed it over, impressed as she secured the new wheel faster than he’d removed the old.
“Yeah,” she grunted as she tightened the last bolt. “Primitive man.”
“I’m not primitive.”
She sat back on her haunches and eyed her tire change. “You practically clubbed me over the head to get the tire.”
“I’ve never raised a hand to a lady.”
Her gaze collided with his. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. And I’m no lady. Or some damsel in distress. Play your hero act with your fiancée.”
With that, she tossed the long wrench in her truck bed, hopped behind her wheel and started up her powerful engine. It throbbed, loud, in the night air. Before she left, she leaned out her window, her expression smug. “And you’re welcome.”
“For what?” Shouldn’t she be thanking him?
“For protecting your fragile male ego. See you in court!” She shifted into gear, then raced off, her tires kicking up gravel.
He coughed on exhaust fumes and dust as he stared after her disappearing taillights. Aggravating, cocky, exasperating woman. Yet the wide smile reflected in his rearview mirror when he started his pickup belied his irritation. He reversed from his spot and cruised onto the road.
Why was he so amped?
He had plenty to worry about. The make-or-break Lovelands versus Cades trial began in August and tomorrow, he’d tell his family, and Kelsey, about his Nashville tryout. Would they support him? He cranked a George Strait tune and lustily sang along, a sense of buoyancy nearly lifting him from his hard seat.
The audition of a lifetime awaited him, but he suspected one saucy redhead might, oddly, have something to do with his mood, too. He’d moved Jewel while performing, her reaction strengthening his resolve to chase his dream.
His