Australian Quinns. Kate Hoffmann
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free. We were just…talking.”
“Oh, is that what they call it?” Callum asked. He pulled his horse along until he stopped in front of Payton. “Is my brother bothering you? If he is, you can just tell him to leave.”
Callum was always so serious that Payton couldn’t tell if he was angry or just teasing. She gave him an apologetic smile. “It—it won’t happen again,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Callum reached up and plucked a piece of straw from her hair and handed it to her, a grin quirking at the corners of his mouth. Payton felt her cheeks warm and she took the reins from his hand. “I’ll take care of your horse,” she mumbled.
Tugging at the bit, she pulled the horse along the length of the stable, hoping to get as far away from the two brothers as possible. She would not keep this job for long if she continued to show such a blatant disrespect for her employer.
And she needed this job! She wasn’t ready to go home. The thought of facing her family and Sam was just too much for her right now. Here, on the station, she felt useful, which made her far happier than she’d been in a very long time.
But was it the work that made her happy or was it her growing infatuation with Brody Quinn? She’d be deluding herself if she ignored his part in this. Glancing back, she caught sight of Callum and Brody, deep in conversation, Callum gesturing with his gloved hands and Brody watching him with an indolent expression.
She barely knew the Quinn brothers, but the family dynamics were quite evident. Callum was the caretaker, the responsible brother whose only focus was the success of the station. Teague was the charmer, the smart, funny one with the ready smile and witty conversation.
And Brody…well, he was a little more difficult to define. He seemed to be the rebel of the family, a bit of an outsider. Payton couldn’t understand why he stayed on the station when it was so obvious that it wasn’t his favorite place to be.
She tied Callum’s horse up to a nearby post and began to remove the saddle. When she straightened from unbuckling the cinch, she found Brody standing behind her. He gently turned her around to face him, then bent lower and kissed her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, reaching out to smooth his hand over her hair.
“We can’t do that again,” she said, looking up at him. “I need this job, Brody.”
“You’re not going to lose your job,” he said. “Cal doesn’t care. He’s so preoccupied with Gemma, he doesn’t have time to worry about us.”
“I care.” Turning back to Callum’s mount, she pulled the saddle off and set it on a bale of straw. “I like working here. And I need to pay you back for taking care of my debts.”
“Cal can’t complain about what you do when you’re finished working, can he?”
“No,” she said, setting the saddle pad on top of the saddle. “I guess not.”
“All right, then. We’ll just have to confine ourselves to the hours before breakfast and after dinner. And we’re going to have to find a place that offers some privacy.” He grabbed the saddle and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take care of Cal’s horse and you can finish what you were doing earlier. Then we’ll go eat.”
“You don’t have to help me.”
“Yes I do,” Brody said. “Because the sooner you finish, the sooner I’ll have you all to myself.”
Perhaps he was right. As long as she finished her work, Callum couldn’t begrudge her evenings spent with Brody. “Okay.”
Her second day of work had been as exhausting as her first. But the prospect of spending time alone with Brody gave her a sudden surge of energy. She’d fallen asleep in his arms last night then woken up to an empty bed. She wasn’t about to do that two nights in a row. “It’s a date.”
“Good.” He grabbed the blanket and headed toward the tack room.
Payton watched him, smiling to herself. There was something so attractive about a man who actually worked for a living, a man who used his body the way it was meant to be used—for hard labor…and seduction. Brody was dirty and sweaty, yet she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted a man in her life.
BRODY DROPPED the phone into the cradle, then pushed back in Callum’s desk chair, linking his hands behind his head. He hadn’t bothered to pick up his messages on his mobile phone since reception in Bilbarra and at the station was nonexistent. But remotely checking the voice mail of his home phone at his apartment in Fremantle had brought an interesting development.
Cursing softly, he closed his eyes, a tightly held breath escaping his chest. When he’d left Fremantle, the team doctors had assured him there was no chance he would ever play football again. But now, a doctor in Los Angeles had developed a surgery that offered a way to reconstruct his bum knee.
Why now, why after he’d resigned himself to his fate? Why even tempt him with the possibility of regaining everything he’d lost? Brody knew it would be a long shot at best. And even if the surgery was successful, there’d be months, maybe a year or two, of rehab. Was he really willing to put in the time, just for another chance to play?
He didn’t really have a choice. Brody had never been cut out for station life. The problem was he didn’t have any options beyond football and stockman’s work. He could invest in a business before he retired, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to buy. Or he could go to university and learn something new, but he was too old to go back to being a student.
“You never were one to plan ahead,” he muttered to himself.
“Hey, dinner is on the table,” Callum said, poking his head in the door. “Best be quick or Davey’ll snag the seat next to your girl.”
“She isn’t my girl,” Brody said, running his hand through his hair.
Callum shrugged. “I’m sure the boys will be happy to hear that. They’ve been carrying on like pork chops since she and Gemma arrived.”
“All right, she is my girl. For now. And I expect that pretty Irish thing won’t be spending much time with the boys, either. I see the way you stare at her. Explain to me again what she’s doing here?”
“Research,” Callum said. “She’s working for some distant relative of ours on a family history. I guess one branch of the family left Ireland for the States and another branch came here. She’s been going over all the old records for the station.”
“What does that have to do with family history?” Brody asked.
“I don’t know.” He drew a deep breath. “I don’t really care. As long as it keeps her here.”
“Maybe she really fancies Teague. He’s always been the looker in the family.”
“Teague’s got something else going,” Callum murmured. “I was up early this morning and I saw him come in just before sunrise. There’s not an available woman, besides Gemma, Payton and Mary, within fifty kilometers of this station, but he sure looked well satisfied.”
“Maybe he’s clearing the cobwebs at the brothel, or with a married lady,” Brody said.
Callum shook his head. “Teague wouldn’t do that. He’s too bloody honorable. And why would he when he can usually have any woman he wants?” Callum paused. “I’m just worried he—”
“What?” Brody asked.
“I heard Hayley Fraser’s back on her grandfather’s station. Teague’s always been a bit jelly kneed when it comes to her. First love and all that.”
“Marrying Teague off to Hayley would solve all your problems.” Brody teased.