Never Let You Go. Judy Christenberry

knew he was going to regret asking, but he couldn’t help himself. “Why?”

      “’Cause you need to sweeten up. Otherwise, everything around you is going to go sour,” she snapped, stepping back from the truck.

      “Maybe I need something more than sugar,” he retorted, determined to make her back down. “What do you say to that?”

      “That you’re out of luck unless you want to visit town and fork over some cash. That’s none of my business as long as you do your job.” Her chin was rising again, a sign he’d already figured out meant she was digging in her toes.

      “I’ll do my job, lady. You just see if you can stand the pace.” He glared at her, but she said nothing else, simply giving him a careless salute and walking toward the house.

      He watched the sway of her rear in those tight jeans and was afraid he might drool. Visiting town for some female companionship might be a necessity if he hung around Beth Kennedy for any period of time.

      Damn, he’d gotten himself into a mess.

      Beth could feel his glare on her. She hoped her trembling legs didn’t show beneath her jeans. What had she gotten herself into?

      She wanted to be a barrel racer. The best barrel racer in the world. She’d heard of Jedadiah Davis, read about him. She couldn’t wait to have met him.

      Of course, she should have called, but she’d thought she could get home quicker than she had. And she hadn’t wanted to tell her sisters what she was up to.

      She should have known he’d be offended by his wait. He was so full of himself—okay, so maybe he had a right to be self-confident. He was the best.

      And the handsomest.

      She hadn’t expected his rugged good looks. Those piercing blue eyes seemed to read every thought in her head. But that must not be true, or he would have known he’d rocked her almost from the beginning.

      Abby was anxiously waiting when she reached the house, taking Beth’s thoughts away from her reaction to the man.

      “Well? Are you going to train with Mr. Davis?”

      “He’s staying. I’ve got to clean out one of the unused rooms in the bunkhouse.”

      “I’ll help,” Melissa, the middle Kennedy sister, said from the doorway. “I’ve been intending to work on those rooms anyway.” Since their visit to the lawyer’s office a month ago, after their Aunt Beulah’s death, learning of their inheritance, Melissa had been redoing the house, making it more efficient and more beautiful.

      “Thanks, Missy,” Beth returned, using her childhood name for Melissa. “Do you have time?”

      “Yeah. Dinner’s already in the oven for tonight, and I baked a cake this morning.”

      “Once he has one of your meals, Mr. Davis will never leave,” Abby teased. “Did you negotiate a fee?” she asked her youngest sister.

      “Yeah, and it’s a good thing I inherited a lot of money.” She told Abby the fee he demanded. “That’s twice what I heard he charges, but he’s well worth it. He probably doubled it because he doesn’t think I have any talent,” Beth muttered. “Or because he didn’t like me.”

      “Why wouldn’t he like you?” Melissa demanded to know, her hands on her hips. She was always the first to defend her sisters.

      Abby chuckled. “Probably because she’s hardheaded and demanding, Melissa.”

      “She’s determined,” Melissa corrected, “and charming.”

      Both her sisters almost doubled over in laughter.

      “I swear, Missy, you’d say the Grinch was misunderstood,” Beth said, hugging her sister.

      “And she’d convince the rest of us,” Abby added.

      “Oh, you two,” Melissa protested. “But I’m glad the man’s going to take you on. He really is the best.”

      “Yeah, I know,” Beth agreed. “Thank you both for letting me try this. I know it’ll make us a little shorthanded on the ranch.”

      “We’ll manage,” Abby assured her. When they discovered their inheritance, all three had vowed to pursue their dreams, but actually doing so wasn’t easy. “But why did a flat take so long?”

      “I didn’t get the spare fixed six months ago when I had the last flat.”

      “Aunt Beulah always said you should pay attention to details,” Abby reminded her.

      “Yeah,” Beth agreed with a sigh. “I think Jed Davis will be saying the same thing.”

      Beth gathered up clean sheets, a broom, a mop and bucket, and lots of cleaning supplies. Melissa followed her with a pillow, blanket and a set of towels. Only two men occupied the bunkhouse right now, though Abby was looking for new hands.

      Barney had been on the ranch long before the girls had come to live there when their parents died fifteen years ago. He’d had a casual male influence on their lives, but mostly, he’d been a friend. Beth had learned from Barney to whittle in rare moments of leisure. She trusted him.

      The other cowhand, Dirk, kept to himself. He’d been on the ranch a little over two years, but he had forty years’ experience on the range. He might not be overly friendly, but he worked hard.

      Now Jedadiah Davis would become a part of their lives. As she made the bed, Beth couldn’t help wondering if he’d stay long enough to get to know them, or move on, still a stranger.

      A shiver passed through her. Something about the man bothered her. She believed his reputation, so there were no doubts there. But when he’d shaken her hand, she’d wanted to snatch it back, to retreat.

      One look into his piercing blue eyes and she’d felt exposed, unable to hide. And then there was his response to her comments about sugar.

      She hoped the man didn’t think there were any extracurricular benefits to training her. You wish, her inner voice taunted.

      Grinning ruefully, she admitted he was attractive. Her social life, in the face of Beulah’s need of their help, had suffered. She didn’t know much about men in that area. Her one attempt to gain some experience had been a disaster.

      Fortunately, the man had moved on, leaving her at home to lick her wounds, never having to see him again. She sure wouldn’t want to ruin her training with any…messiness.

      “I can do that.”

      The deep burr of a voice didn’t need identifying. She snapped straight up from her bent position over his bed. Spinning around, she put her hands on her hips, hoping to looked composed.

      “No problem. We’ve just finished. That is, Melissa helped me, but she went back to the house to check on dinner.” She scooped the towels up from the one chair in the little room. “Here’s a set of towels. Toss the dirty ones over in that laundry basket. We pick up the dirty clothes every couple of days and return them washed the next day.”

      “I’ll take care of my own laundry,” he growled.

      “Suit yourself, but if you’re picturing me bent over a washtub, don’t. We have good equipment and share the work.” She didn’t add that the new washing machine and dryer had arrived only a couple of weeks ago.

      He nodded but said nothing else, just staring at her.

      “Well, dinner will be at six. The other two men are Barney and Dirk. Introduce yourself and I’ll see you at dinner.”

      “Did you ask Abby about my training other horses?”

      She was glad she’d remembered to ask. They had plenty of space for the man to train horses. In fact, she hoped she might learn something about it. “Yes. She said that’s not a problem.”

      “Good.”