Dan (Texas Rascals Book 9) Read online

  For the first time, he was truly free of his father’s control, and it felt darn good. He was going to do everything in his power to make this ranch a success.

  And that meant sweet-talking Raleigh Travers into coming to work for him. Like it or not, they needed each other.

  Chester whined and thumped his tail, ready for bed.

  “You’re right,” he said, scratching the old dog behind the ears. “I need her, and she needs me, but how can I convince her of that?”

  The alarm went off at four a.m.

  Raleigh jerked awake and slapped the annoying clock into silence. Yawning, she sat up.

  She’d dreamed of Daniel McClintock. Her cheeks burned at the memory. Her dream had been hot and erotic.

  Very erotic.

  Perspiration dampened her forehead, and she found her covers wadded in a knot at the foot of the bed. Her body felt like melted ice cream. Clearing her throat, she pressed a hand to her temple.

  Last night, after she’d made her decision to go to work for Dan, she’d called Fay and told her she was quitting. As always, her old friend was supportive, urging her to do whatever she thought was right. That only served to make Raleigh feel guiltier than she already did. She’d spent the better part of the night flopping restlessly in bed, second-guessing herself.

  When she finally did fall asleep, Dan had the audacity to invade her dreams. It wasn’t fair. Definitely dirty pool. How was she supposed to resist a dream?

  Raleigh considered herself a strong person, but Dan had robbed her willpower, rendering her a wishy-washy mess. Closing her eyes, she could see him—thick black hair; quizzical dark eyes; hard, muscular body; imposing height. She swallowed hard. Her stomach jumped like popcorn, ping-pinging with a sultry inner heat.

  Blowing out her breath through puffed cheeks, she slid from the bed and flicked on the light. Her bare toes curled against the coolness of the hardwood floor.

  She rifled through her closet, located her blue jeans, and shimmied into them. Donning a T-shirt, she pulled on socks and boots and braided her hair. Quietly, so as not to awaken Caleb, she tiptoed into the kitchen and made coffee.

  Except for a sprinkling of stars overhead, it was dark outside. Early-morning dew clung to her boots as she crossed the lawn. Night noises lingered—the distant call of a meadowlark, the constant cacophony of crickets. The air smelled fresh, clean, hopeful. All normal, comfortable smells and sounds at a time when she felt neither normal nor comfortable.

  What would McClintock say when she arrived on his doorstep ready to work? What if he’d changed his mind about hiring her? She’d be up the proverbial creek, because she wasn’t about to inconvenience Fay again.

  Balancing her coffee thermos in one hand, she opened the pickup door with the other and climbed inside. The contrary vehicle spat and sputtered before starting up. Raleigh hunched over the steering wheel, sipping her coffee and waiting for the ancient engine to warm.

  On the darkened road to Dan’s ranch, her thoughts were irresistibly drawn back to her disturbing dream. She couldn’t remember ever having such a sexy dream. What did it mean?

  “It means nothing, Travers, absolutely nothing,” she growled to herself. “He turns you on. Big deal. You don’t have to act on it.”

  She had to stop thinking about him like this. Period. She knew the risks involved in caring about a man, and she’d chosen to not gamble on those risks again. At least not until she got Caleb raised.

  By the time she reached the ranch, she’d almost convinced herself to turn around and hightail it back home. But she couldn’t. She had Caleb to think about. They had to have a place to live, and she wasn’t dumb enough to expect another offer like this one to come along.

  “A woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do,” she muttered.

  The ranch lay in a low spot between two hills. A fine white mist covered the ground. The old pickup rambled across the pasture and into the driveway. In the quiet of the predawn, trucks, trailers, and ranching equipment loomed out of the fog like motionless prehistoric creatures, creating a spooky effect.

  Raleigh shivered. Although the temperature was comfortable now, she knew that by noon, the thermometer would soar to the one-hundred-degree mark.

  For a moment she sat in the truck, staring at the ranch and gathering her courage. Her next act might be irrevocable.

  “It’s now or never,” she declared, resting her empty coffee cup on the dashboard.

  Her bootheels made sharp crunching sounds as she trod over the gravel driveway and up the stone steps to the house. Taking a deep breath, she rapped loudly on the front door. She hesitated a minute, then knocked once more.

  No answer.

  Knocking a third time, she paced the porch, her arms folded across her chest. This was not a good idea. She should leave while she still had the chance.

  “Coming, coming,” Dan hollered.

  A moment later he flung open the door.

  A tuft of dark hair on the side of his head stood straight up. He wore pajama bottoms and nothing else. Raleigh caught her breath at the tousled sight of him.

  Tall and leanly muscled from hard work, he had the kind of build that made a woman ache to watch water roll off his naked body. Raleigh moistened her lips.

  He yawned and scratched his bare chest. “What time is it?”

  “Quarter to five,” she said, struggling not to stare at him.

  “What are you doing here this early?” He raked a hand through his hair.

  Raleigh had a sudden vision of him lying in bed. Her stomach squeezed hard.

  “Why do country people start the day so dang early? Okay, maybe the early bird catches the worm, but who wants worms besides fishermen? Does it mean late birds never get a worm? I don’t think so. I’ve seen plenty of birds eating worms in the afternoon,” he grumbled.

  “Settle down.”

  His eyes widened, and he grinned. “What are you doing here?”

  That stopped her. Had he forgotten his invitation? Or was he just not a morning person?

  “Never mind,” he waved. “Come in, come in. I’ll go put on a pot of coffee.”

  “Okay.” She stepped inside, her emotions warring with common sense.

  He closed the door, and she followed him inside, her gaze darting around the living room. He’d tastefully decorated the place in a Southwestern decor of sage green, rustic brown, and sand. A rock fireplace took up one corner.

  In the middle of the large room sat two leather sofas, ottomans, and a love seat. A painted cow skull adorned the west wall, along with several Remington paintings. No wonder he couldn’t afford to hire a farrier; he’d blown his dough on ritzy furnishings.

  “Have a seat,” he invited, waving his hand.

  “You’ve decorated this room rather expensively for a man on a budget,” she said.

  Dan shrugged off her critique. “When the dude ranch opens, I will be drawing clients who are accustomed to the best. This is the only room we’ve completed. You should see the rest of the house. It’s a total disaster.”

  Easing herself down on the edge of the sofa, she clasped her hands together.

  “Excuse me a second.” He disappeared into where she supposed the kitchen must be.

  Nervously, she crossed her legs, then uncrossed them again. She shouldn’t have come so early. Because Dan owned stables, she assumed he would be up and about at this hour, tending his stock. The sight of him bare-chested and in his pajama bottoms, so recently pulled from his bed, caused her blood pressure to climb a notch or two.

  “You take anything in your coffee?” he called out a few minutes later.

  “Black, thanks.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “We’ve got something in common.” He reappeared, carrying two steaming mugs. Handing her one, he sat down next to her and blew across his coffee to cool it.

  She used the cup to warm her hands. It was something to focus on besides his near nakedness.

  “You were the last person I expected to fin
d on my front porch.”

  “To tell the truth, I’m surprised to find myself here.”

  “And why is that?” He leaned closer.

  She stared into her cup, carefully avoiding the challenge in his eyes. “I came to see if that job offer still stands.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I want to start work today. We need to move into the cabin right away. I have to move out of my house tomorrow.”

  “You want the job?”

  “I want the job,’ she confirmed.

  “You want to start working right now?”

  “I want to start working right now.”

  “Is there an echo in here?” he teased.

  From beneath her lowered lashes, she cast him a sidelong glance. He sat with his knees wide apart, forearms resting on his thighs in a casual masculine posture. Raleigh watched as his large thumbs rhythmically caressed the smooth ceramic mug cradled in his hands.

  She was acutely aware of his strong, powerful body. Helplessly, her gaze strayed to his bare, muscled abdomen, her eyes drinking in the dark trail of curly black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his pajamas.

  Unbidden images rose in her mind. Visions sharp and graphic—his callused palms skimming lightly over her bare skin, his hungry lips suckling her breasts, their bodies pressed tightly together against crisp white sheets.

  No way. Sharply, she jerked her head to dispel such torturous thoughts.

  “Okay, we start right now.”

  “Don’t you want to finish your coffee? You should finish your coffee.” She was feeling guilty for pulling him out of bed so early. “Or you could go back to bed.”

  Bed.

  The word seemed to hang in the air between them, thick as a smoke cloud. Why had she said the word “bed”?

  “And leave you to work by yourself? I don’t think so.”

  “I can handle it.” She raised her chin, hoping she looked competent and capable. “Go get some sleep.”

  “That’s not the way I roll.”

  “What’s not?”

  “Leaving a woman to do all the heavy lifting while I sleep.” He tracked a hot gaze over her body. “Did you think I was that kind of man?”

  “I didn’t think that much about you one way or the other,” she lied.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “But I’m not going back to bed.”

  There was that word again. “Okay, good.”

  “Fine. Let’s get to work.” He chugged the coffee like a frat boy chugging beer, set down the mug, and stood up. “Just had to caffeinate.”

  “Oh, you mean it.” She set down her mug and hopped up too.

  “You didn’t think I meant it?”

  “I don’t know what to think about you.”

  “Ditto.”

  They stared at each other. She had strange feelings in the pit of her stomach. “All right then.”

  “It’s settled. Welcome to McClintock’s Dude Ranch, Raleigh Travers. Glad to have you aboard.” Dan thrust out his hand.

  Raleigh slipped her palm into his and let the handshake linger too long, enjoying the feel of his skin on hers.

  “Well.” He dropped her hand, and Raleigh felt a distinct sense of loss. His dark-eyed gaze kept her pinned to the spot. “Guess I better get dressed. You’ve got that on me.”

  “Should I go work with the horses?” Raleigh pointed her thumb at the door.

  “Absolutely. See you in a few.”

  She hurried out the door, almost stumbling in her haste, relief washing over her. She had a job she could enjoy and a place to stay.

  Only one big problem.

  She had the serious hots for her boss.

  5

  Late that afternoon, Raleigh stood on the porch of the cabin, a mop in her hand and a green bandanna tied around her forehead. She’d scrubbed the place from top to bottom until it shone.

  Dan backed the rented moving van into the driveway and stopped in front of the log cabin, then got out. He’d suggested she stay here and ready the cabin, while he and Pete moved her out of the duplex.

  Narrowing her eyes, she watched while he unlocked the back of the U-Haul. Raleigh’s gaze traversed the lean muscles bulging beneath his bare shoulder blades. In the heat of the August sun, he’d stripped off his shirt.

  Biting her bottom lip, Raleigh wished he’d put his shirt back on. The sight of his naked torso drew her gaze and sent her core body temperature soaring.

  “You’ll have to tell me where to put everything,” he said.

  Prying her gaze from his distracting chest, she shaded her eyes with her hand and propped the mop against the side of the house. “I’m not quite sure yet.”

  The log cabin was small. Eight hundred square feet. A living room, kitchen, bath, and two bedrooms. It was smaller than the duplex, but in much better shape, and it exuded a cozy rustic feel and smelled deliciously of cedar.

  It was the perfect place for her and Caleb.

  Dan braced his knees in a firm stance, then wrestled her sofa to the edge of the truck. Grunting, he stopped and rested his hands at the small of his back.

  “Here,” she said, moving to stand beside him. “Let me help.”

  “No way.” Dan puffed. “This thing is heavy.”

  “It’s a sleeper sofa,” she explained. “Remember, I shoe horses for a living. I’m perfectly capable.”

  “Raleigh, don’t be ridiculous. Let’s wait for Pete. He and Caleb will be here any minute. Why don’t you carry one of those lightweight boxes instead?”

  “McClintock.” She glared and rested her hands on her hips. “We have got to get one thing straight.”

  “Oh?” He turned to face her, his cowboy hat pushed back on his head, fine beads of perspiration gleaming on his bronzed chest. What it would taste like to run her tongue along his bare abs?

  Salty. Very salty no doubt.

  Yum. She loved salt.

  Snap out of it, Travers. “I can handle physical work. I’m not some china doll to be protected. If you don’t allow me to do anything strenuous, I’ll be pretty useless around here, and that makes me question your motives in hiring me.”

  “You would argue with a dead cat, wouldn’t you?”

  “No, I would not.”

  “Pretend I’m a dead cat then.”

  “This is nuts.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Then he added, teasing, “I don’t have very good insurance.”

  “I won’t get hurt. I know how to lift, and I’m not any more likely to get injured than you are.” She sank her hands on her hips, defying him to contradict her.

  Reaching up, Dan casually brushed a lock of errant hair from her cheek.

  Raleigh stiffened and stepped back at his touch. Liquid fingers of heat spread through her like warm candle wax.

  “Okay,” he said, dropping his hand. “You win. Let’s move the dang sofa.”

  Shooting him a triumphant grin, she helped him heave the sofa out of the back of the van. They struggled together and finally dragged it into the small living room. Raleigh had trouble handling her end, but she would never have admitted it to Dan.

  “Let’s put it in front of the fireplace,” she suggested. “It’ll be nice to burrow beneath a quilt in front of a roaring fire during a winter storm.”

  “Hmm,” Dan said. “Now that does create an image. I can almost smell a pot of beef stew bubbling on the stove.”

  “And the sound of the wind blowing against the cold windowpanes.” Raleigh grinned, her mind easily conjuring up the cozy domestic scene in spite of the hot, slick sweat clinging to her neck.

  “Country-and-western music playing on the radio.” Dan mopped his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “Blake Shelton,” she said.

  “I’ll take Kelly Clarkson.”

  “She is fun.”

  His eyes met hers. They were standing across from each other on opposite ends of the couch. “Not as fun as you.”

 
She ducked. Her head twisted the end of her braid around one hand. He decided to ignore that. “It would be fun to play cards in front of the fire.”

  “I like poker.” There was innuendo in his voice, no denying.

  “You would,” she said. “I prefer Spades.”

  “Or we could play chess,” he said, as if this scenario was really going to happen.

  “Pop popcorn.”

  “Brew hot chocolate with marshmallows.”

  “Or Irish coffee.”

  “Or make love.”

  “Huh?” Raleigh’s face blistered at his words. “What did you say?”

  Dan rested one knee on the arm of the sofa and looped a thumb through his belt. The action tilted his hips at an appealing angle. He stared into her eyes, binding her to him with an invisible string.

  “Make love,” he repeated, pursing his lips and cocking an eyebrow. “Isn’t that one of the things people do in front of a warm fire on a frosty winter night?”

  “I wouldn’t know about that,” Raleigh said in a brittle tone. “There’s more work to do.” She pivoted abruptly on her heel.

  Dan turned and, moving quickly, headed her off at the door.

  Determined, Raleigh pushed past him, her head down. She crashed into his side, heard his sharp intake of breath.

  “Raleigh?”

  They were all alone here.

  “Dan,” she murmured, her heart full of crazy emotions. She wanted him to kiss her more than she wanted to breathe. “Please.”

  Dan put out a hand, and his fingers wrapped around her soft, pliant flesh. He pulled her to his chest. Their intimate contact affected him viscerally. Peering into her fog-gray eyes, he felt his whole body harden.

  How she fascinated him, with her fiercely independent spirit and her bullheaded stubborn streak. She rebuffed assistance, wanting desperately to survive on her own. How he understood that desire!

  And how he wanted her—beneath him, above him, in his arms, in his bed.

  Everywhere.

  He held her tight, not wanting to let go. As he looked down into her startled, heart-shaped face, he realized her spunky attitude masked some heavy emotional burdens. At that moment, Dan longed to be the man to erase those difficulties, to show her life didn’t have to be so hard and painful if you had someone you could count on.