Skylar's Outlaw

Rushing back, she grabbed a pair of denim overalls from a hook. They were Cait’s, and Sky knew she used them for dirty jobs. She slipped into them and quickly joined Rufus and Cooper.

Several tractors and other pieces of equipment were parked in the lean-to. Ru was working on the hay baler, while Cooper squatted and looked at the underbelly of a John Deere.

She knew she was going to have to prove herself. Another thing that irritated her, but she was trying to be nice and get along. A little cooperation on Yates’s part wouldn’t kill him.

“I’ll change this one,” she said.

He stood and they were inches apart. A woodsy outdoor scent tickled her nose and a long-forgotten heat tempted her senses. Golden curls of hair peeped out of the V in his western shirt. He was too close for comfort. Too close without touching…Was she insane? This man hated her and she’d do well to remember that.

“By all means.”

Cooper tried not to look at her in the overalls, but he failed. He didn’t want to notice one thing about her, but her fair, clean skin, devoid of makeup, was a shock. That host of freckles spread across a pert nose was hard to miss, as were the curves of her body outlined by the denim. How did she manage to look sexy in those things?

“What do you put the old oil in?” she asked.

He pointed to a five-gallon bucket and a funnel, but made no move to hand it to her. That wasn’t like him. He helped Cait and Maddie all the time, but with her…

She reached for a crescent wrench from the toolbox on the ground and pulled the bucket forward as if she knew what she was doing. This could be entertaining, he thought, stepping back.

Locating the drain plug on the underside of the cylinder block, she applied the wrench. No luck. The plug was tight with grease and gunk.

The pouring rain hammered the tin roof of the lean-to with a soothing metallic rhythm as she worked on the plug. Suddenly, it popped free and dirty oil squirted everywhere. On the ground. On the tractor. On her.

With a quick reflex, Coop shoved the bucket forward to catch the oil. Oil splattered her face, her overalls and her hair. She looked shocked and he wanted to laugh. He didn’t. Instead he handed her an old rag.

She pushed herself to her feet, wiped her face and then made sure the bucket was still catching the dripping oil.

“I’ll finish,” he offered, for no other reason than to get rid of her.

“I can finish it.” She rubbed oil from her cheek, only managing to smear it. He thought she’d go running to the house, since the girl he’d briefly known wouldn’t get her hands dirty. Had she changed?

He knew she had a child; he’d seen the little girl playing in the yard. But there wasn’t a husband. Seeing her as a mother was a stretch. Seeing her as a responsible, caring woman was a stretch. Seeing her as much of anything besides a social piranha was an even bigger stretch.

And he was being judgmental—like so many people had treated him. He’d sworn he’d never do that. But with her…

“Thank you.” She handed him the rag, and he looked at this woman with the oil-smeared face. Why did he hate her? She really had nothing to do with his situation. She’d only been a bystander.

Keeping up this barrage of anger was eating at him. She was Dane’s daughter, and Coop had to shake whatever was driving him. Taking the rag, he turned and hurried into the barn.

He whistled for Rebel and the horse responded, galloping into the corral, his coat wet. In a matter of minutes, Coop was saddled up and bolted out into rain, needing to put distance between them.

The rain stopped after lunch, but still he didn’t return. He would finish the tractors that evening. Most nights he didn’t sleep, anyway.

He blocked out thoughts of her and concentrated on the ranch. The rain was good for the corn and the hayfields, as long as they didn’t get too much. If that happened, he’d have to figure out some sort of drainage. One way or another, High Five was going to have a successful crop this year.

Old boards tossed into the grass by the side of the main house caught his attention. He dismounted to check them out. They’d probably been blown around by the hurricane that had come through last September.

Squatting, he saw it was an old hand-dug well shaft, abandoned years ago. He picked up the boards. A cow could step in the hole and break a leg. Tomorrow he’d fill it up with dirt. That would be the safest way to avoid any injuries.

He used one of the small boards to scoop out indentation to lay the boards in so the wind couldn’t move them. He then kicked dirt on top with his boot. That would do for now.

Darkness fell like a heavy cloak, the moon hidden beneath its folds. He headed for the barn and rubbed Rebel down and fed him. The dogs whined at him, not liking that he’d left them behind.

Stepping out of the barn, Coop saw the lights were on at the house, but he didn’t turn in that direction. He marched purposefully toward the bunkhouse, his private space.

First, he fed the dogs and played with them for a while. They licked his face and wagged their tails, forgiving easily. He needed to find that emotion somewhere inside him.

His clothes were still damp, so he took a quick shower. Drying off, he heard a knock—no doubt Rufus, bringing supper. Coop grabbed jeans and hopped, skipped and jumped into them as he made his way toward the door. He’d have to tell Ru to stop bringing food. He could cook his own meals.

In the hallway, he shouted, “Come in.”

Sky opened the door, to find the dogs looking at her with an expectant gaze.

She forgot about them as soon as she saw Coop standing in the doorway, buttoning his jeans. And that was all he had on. His blond hair was wet from the shower and tousled across his forehead. Tiny beads of water glistened on his shoulders. A wide span of chest was covered in golden hairs that disappeared into his jeans. Her heart rate kicked into overdrive at the sight of him.

She must have been without a man too long. She wasn’t attracted to Cooper Yates. Was she?

He yanked a T-shirt from a chair and jerked it over his head. The muscles in his arms bulged from the movement. Oh, yeah. That helped to ease the tension. Not.

Focus.

For a split second Sky was caught by the simplicity of the bunkhouse. Years ago the sisters’ teenage curiosity had gotten the best of them, and they’d sneaked in to get a peek at where the cowboys lived. Of course, they were caught, and their father was not pleased. After a stern lecture, they promised never, ever to be so bold or so foolish again. Maddie was the only one who’d paid attention.

The bunkhouse was the same as it had been back then. Hardwood flooring worn by years of cowboys boot-scooting across it. Dark paneled walls. A large living area—kitchen combo highlighted with a huge stone fireplace charred by use. The hallway led to two oversize bedrooms that slept eight cowboys each. A bath separated the rooms.

“Nothing fancy—just a place to live.” Her father had said that many times.

What surprised Sky was the computer sitting on a small desk. And the TV in front of a recliner. All the comforts of home—Cooper’s home.

The warm plate in her hand reminded her she was standing there staring like that teenage girl of long ago. She walked over and set the plate on the homemade wooden table.

“I brought your supper, and for the record, this will be the last time anyone brings you food unless you’re sick. Even if you don’t care about anyone else, please respect my grandmother’s wishes and eat at the house.”

He just stared at her and then said, “You got the oil out of your hair.”

“What? Oh. Yes.” Her hand went to the freshly washed curls around her face. “It boggles my mind the tricks Etta knows to remove stains. I’ve never had my hair washed with Lava soap.”

He just kept staring.

“In case you’re wondering, running away didn’t help a thing. Rufus and I changed the oil and filters in every tractor.”

“No kidding.”

“No kidding,” she shot back.

Silence intruded and she thought it was time for her to leave. She’d said what she’d needed to. But being a true Belle, she could never leave well enough alone. “Are we clear on the meals thing?”

“Yes, ma’am.”