Cowboy Accomplice. B.J. Daniels
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back to the woman standing in his line shack. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked. “I wanted to give you another chance to reconsider my offer so I hired on as your camp cook.” She held out her hand. “Regina Holland. I wasn’t sure you remembered from my card.”
He ignored her hand. He could not believe the woman’s nerve. Had she no sense at all? Coming up to his cow camp after him? And worse, signing on as the cook. Women didn’t belong in a cow camp. He was going to kill Buck.
“Listen, lady, it is one thing to be cute on the highway but not in my line camp,” he snapped. She really had no idea what she’d done. Or who she was dealing with.
“I’m not being cute,” she said, frowning as she lowered her hand. “I’m very serious.”
She couldn’t have looked less serious in that urban cowboy getup if she’d tried. “I already turned down your offer flat,” he ground out from between gritted teeth as he tried to keep his voice down. “All of your offers. How much more plain can I be?”
He knew the men outside were straining to hear what was going on. A woman in cow camp? Worse, a woman who looked like this? A woman with designs that had nothing to do with cooking. A recipe for disaster if there ever was one.
She lifted her chin, standing her ground as she looked up at him. Without her high heels, he towered over her. He also outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds. But she didn’t seem to notice—or care.
“You didn’t give me a chance back on the highway today,” she said, seemingly unconcerned by the ferocious angry scowl he was giving her. “If you’d just listen to what I’m willing to give you—”
“You listen to me, Reggie,” he said, biting off each word as he stepped closer. “I told you I’m—”
“This is an opportunity—”
“…not interested and I’m not going to—”
“…that doesn’t come—”
“…change my mind and I don’t want to hear—”
“…along every day—”
“Reggie!” he shouted, forgetting how important it was to keep their conversation private.
She flinched but still had the audacity to mutter, “…of the year. And it’s Regina,” she snapped. “Not Reggie, McCall.”
McCall? He swore under his breath.
She took a breath. “Couldn’t we just start over?” She gave him a breathtaking smile and spoke in a soft seductive tone. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”
He recalled how odd the men had been acting around the campfire. A knife of alarm buried itself in his chest. Had she already announced what she was doing here? He told himself he wouldn’t be responsible for what he did to her.
“Did you say anything to the men about…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words given that Buck probably had his ear to the door not to even mention the cowhands eavesdropping around the fire. He needed these men to look up to him over the next few days, to respect him and follow his orders without fail. He didn’t need them checking out his butt and laughing behind his back.
“About my offer?” she asked with wide-eyed innocence.
He’d wring her pretty little neck. “So help me, if you said one word—”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
“Not even Buck?”
She shook her head.
He hated to think what story she’d concocted to get Buck to give her the cook job. His instant relief that she hadn’t told everyone was short-lived. She hadn’t told anyone yet. “Get your things. You’re going back to town. Now.”
“At least give me a chance to apologize,” she said touching his sleeve. He pulled free, stepping back to ward her off. “I’m sorry. When I heard you talking to Jenny, I just assumed she was your wife.”
He groaned, remembering telling his new puppy Jennie to stay in the pickup or be left at home. That’s why Reggie thought Jennie was his wife? And just when he thought she couldn’t insult him further.
“I also want to apologize for assuming by your attire and truck that you were a poor cowhand—”
“Stop while you’re behind,” J.T. snapped, instantly regretting his unfortunate choice of word.
She flushed. She was trying so hard he almost felt sorry for her. Almost. “I don’t see why you’re so upset,” she said, actually sounding puzzled. “I’m offering you fame.”
Just what he always wanted. A famous butt. “And I’m offering you a chance to clear out of here before—”
“If I could just make you realize what an asset you have in your—”
“All right, Ms. Holland!” There was no getting through to this woman. “The answer is no. I accept all of your…apologies. But the answer is still no. So since there is nothing else for you here—”
He was so close to her that he could smell her perfume. Something expensive and unforgettable. Her eyes were the color of the Montana sky. He dragged his gaze away to the floor and noticed that even her boots were red! She had “dude” written all over her and looked as out of place as a fancy skyscraper on this mountaintop. But what really graveled him was that she looked as sexy in this getup as she had in the expensive suit earlier.
“What’s with you and red?” he had to ask.
She looked down at her outfit. She really did fit the western shirt nicely. “It’s my signature color.”
He should have known.
“Well, unless you want your signature color to be dirt-brown I suggest you step away from that cookstove.”
She didn’t move. “You don’t like red?”
How had he gotten sidetracked from the real issue here to red? He didn’t care if the woman wore nothing at all. He groaned as his imagination flashed on that image.
“I want you to just get back in your—” He looked out the window to the pines below the line shack suddenly realizing he had no idea how she’d gotten here. No way could she drive here in her sports car. It took one hell of a four-wheel drive truck to make it up the rough trail to the camp—and only in good weather. Once it rained or snowed—
“How did you get up here?” he asked, his heart in his throat.
“I rode up in the supply truck with Buck.”
She could have told him Martians had dropped her off at the camp and he would have been less skeptical. “Buck brought you up?” Had Buck lost his mind? The only way to get rid of her would be to send her down on horseback or drive all the way back down the mountain in the supply truck. J.T. swore under his breath.
Well, at least no harm had really been done, he told himself. He would lose Buck for half a day but this situation could be resolved.
“Buck?” he called. The door to the cabin instantly opened and Buck stuck his head in the door. “Go start the truck. You’re taking Ms. Holland back to town.”
Buck shot a sympathetic glance to Reggie, but had the good sense not to argue before he ducked back out the door.
“I don’t think you realize how important this is. Can’t we please discuss it like rational adults?”
“No. Get your stuff. You’re out of here.”
“What will you do for a camp cook?” she asked.
“We’ll manage.”
She studied him for a moment, fire in her eyes, then turned and