Inheriting the Virgin Read online

  I glanced back in the mirror and realized her truck was as old and ratty as mine. Hank had given it to me years ago, saying I was the only one who could fix it.

  I smiled a little bit as something occurred to me.

  Wasn’t that something?

  The lady and I had ‘his and hers’ matching pickup trucks.

  I wondered if she was going to make trouble. I wouldn’t mind a bit, especially if she was wearing something cute. The woman had stirred me up from the moment I’d laid eyes on her. I could just tune out the yapping sounds coming out of her mouth and enjoy the view.

  Probably, I’d never see her again. And that was a damn shame. I hadn’t gotten this excited about a woman in years. Hell, I hadn’t been this excited, ever. And since she didn’t seem to feel the same, I was out of luck.

  All the same, I had myself a ranch.

  I didn’t have to leave. For the first time in my life, I had a real home. All I had to do was stay put for six months. That was damn easy, since I didn’t have anyplace else to go. I finally had a place to hang my hat for the foreseeable future, so to speak. It felt strange when I thought about it. But strange in a good way.

  I drove home with a grin.

  The men were standing around when I got in.

  “What’s up, guys?”

  They all shifted on their feet, looking at each other. Mike stepped forward, his hat in his hand. He’d been here the longest, after me. Nearly five years now. He knew the ins and outs of the place as well as I did. I relied on him more than most.

  “We just wanted to know…”

  “Yes?”

  “Do we still have jobs? I mean with Hank gone, we weren’t sure who was going to pay us.”

  I sighed, realizing I should have thought this through. Of course they were worried. There was more to deal with other than my own sorrow, or even the cattle. They needed a leader, and they needed to know they’d be taken care of. I hadn’t ever imagined I would be the ‘man’ but here it was.

  “You still have jobs. I’ll be the one paying you.”

  Mike smiled. So did the other men.

  “The old man left the place to you?”

  I nodded, deciding they didn’t need to know about little Miss Blue Eyes at the moment. We’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

  If we came to it, and I sorely hoped we would. She might be a pain in the ass, but she was also sweet and prettier than a rose.

  “Let’s get to work. I’ll call the bank and see about payroll.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Thank you.”

  I rubbed my jaw as they hustled out to the fields. We raised cattle here, mostly for dairy farms. We were one of the few grass fed ranches left in the state.

  It was a good job. The cows were happier, and so were the men. No one wanted to be cooped up inside all day. Not us, or the four legged creatures that lived on the ranch.

  We had horses too, though mostly for work. Every once in a while, we would breed them too.

  It was a busy, exhausting job, but I loved it.

  I frowned, wondering if I would get to be outside anymore with the men. Maybe I’d have to name a new foreman, sit behind a desk and get fat. I couldn’t imagine it. Hank had split his time, riding out almost every day until he’d gotten sick the last few years of his life.

  Remembering how bad things had gotten at the end was sobering. He’d gasped for each breath. I’d been totally helpless to ease his suffering. But it made me stand up straighter. I wouldn’t waste my life, or the chance he’d given me.

  Sitting at a desk didn’t sound like much fun to me. Better to hire someone to do the desk work, and keep doing what I do best.

  I went into the house to call the bank and get a cup of coffee. After that, though, I was getting my hands dirty. The rest of my body, too.

  Just the way I liked it.

  The wind was high when I rode out an hour later. The cows were congregating on a hill, like they usually did before it rained. Mike had rounded up some stragglers, but we were still missing almost a half dozen stray cows.

  I dug my heels into Tucker’s sides. Hank had given me the horse when I’d first come to work for him, nearly a decade ago. He wasn’t mine on paper, or at least he hadn’t been until today, but he was like family to me. I loved the damn horse like he was my own son!

  I loved that damn horse more than most men loved their wives and children. Not that I had any idea about that. I hadn’t grown up with family, and the idea was foreign to me. I’d had plenty of women, but nothing long term.

  And nothing recently either.

  Tucker’s gait smoothed out as he broke into a canter. If it was going to rain, we needed to make sure the cattle were nowhere near the creek. Didn’t matter how hard it rained, it mattered how long. The creek got all the excess water that landed on the land for miles. Every damn drop. It had flooded a few years back, and half a dozen head had been swept away.

  It was a pretty, warbling little stream. It looked innocent, even picturesque. But it got dangerous, and it got dangerous fast.

  “Yah!”

  I saw them in the distance. As expected, they were in the worst possible spot. I didn’t think cows were stupid, but they were creatures of habit. Still, they were more intelligent than most people knew, even kind. They were good to their children and had close friends.

  I know, it sounds nuts, but I’d seen it with my own eyes.

  The same cows always together, nuzzling each other and lowing mournfully when they were separated. It was something to see.

  We even had a year-old calf who had a thing for Lenny, one of the ranch hands.

  The damn thing followed him around like a love sick puppy.

  It was the funniest thing I’d seen in my life. We ribbed him about it constantly. I had a feeling Lenny didn’t mind a lick.

  The calf was pretty darn cute, truth be told.

  So, no, I didn’t think the cattle were stupid. But they didn’t have the foresight to stay away from overflowing creeks. Or downed power lines. Or humans, the greatest threat.

  I dug my heels into the horse’s flanks. Time was of the essence. Downstream less than a mile, the creek joined with another and led to a real river. Just past the edge of the property were rapids filled with jagged rocks that would snap a cow’s neck or leg, leaving them to drown or writhe in agony.

  That was not just bad for business, it was downright cruel.

  Mike rode up behind me and together we got the cows to safety. He was good with the animals, firm and gentle as he could be. I nodded as we watched them trot off to join the other cattle on the largest hill. Just in time too. It started to rain, fast and hard. I slowed Tucker to a fast trot and headed back to the stables.

  I wiped him down and gave him a few apples as the place settled down for the night.

  I wondered if Hank’s niece would have cared enough to save those cattle. Or if she even knew how to ride a horse. As nice as she was to look at, there was no reason for her to inherit a ranch, unless she meant to sell it.

  I couldn’t let that happen. This place was special. The men and horses and cattle deserved better than to be swallowed up by some big super farm that did things the wrong way.

  Whatever her plan was, I had to fight it.

  I pulled my hat down low and sauntered back to the house.

  4

  Kate

  I drove away from my parking spot near the lawyer’s office. I was a new woman. My uncle cared so much about me that he’d left me half of his entire cattle business. Half of everything. The homestead, the several hundred acre property, all those cattle, everything. All I had to do was live on the ranch and help work the business for six months.

  With him.

  The brute.

  Was that some kind of test? Had Uncle Hank hoped that I’d put my foot down and fight his inclusion of one James Longhorn in his will? To earn it? If he did, I was ready to take action. I’d said as much to Mr. Edwards, going so far as to sugges
t contesting the will. James had just glanced over at me, emotionless, his posture confident to the point of arrogance. If Uncle Hank wanted me to fight, James was the perfect guy to light a fire in me and set me on that path. Just looking at him sent my blood boiling and caused heat to rise up my cheeks. I just wished he weren’t so darned easy on the eye, with that perfectly square jawline, hazel eyes that pierced right through me, and all that strapping muscle on his tall, broad, masculine frame.

  Anyone could tell that he worked hard to earn his living. Those massive, callused hands gave him away. If he hadn’t been such a sleazebag back there, I could respect that he put in an honest day’s work. But if he thought I’d back down and crawl into a corner so he could keep half the ranch just because he wasn’t afraid of a hard day’s work, he was dead wrong.

  Sure, a part of me thought maybe this was how Uncle Hank wanted it, and that notion kept nudging at the corner of my mind. But I’d rolled over and just accepted things all my life. If there was ever a time for me to question decisions, get aggressive and fight, it was now.

  Like this trip back to Austin. Turning onto the main street that led to the highway, I pressed the gas pedal to speed up. If only this driver in the pickup truck ahead of me would pick up the pace. I gave the horn a quick press. I needed to be on time for my shift.

  As soon as I got back to my waitressing job, I’d figure out some sort of arrangement with my boss. I supposed that working fewer, but longer shifts at the diner would give me three days a week off. Maybe four. Then I could work the ranch and keep an eye on James Longhorn to make sure he didn’t drive the business into the ground.

  And with the condition that I had to live at the ranch, I’d make it work. Austin was an hour or so away from Temple if I made the trek before and after the daytime rush. Which would be even easier if my boss let me start my shift when the diner opened at six-thirty in the morning, or end it on closing at ten at night. I’d even save money because I wouldn’t need to keep my apartment. Plus, Peyton would love all the space in Uncle Hank’s house. The place was huge. Of course, James would be there too. But if he already lived in one of the ranch hand cabins on the property, maybe that was enough to satisfy the terms of the will. As long as he kept his distance, I didn’t care where he lived.

  I uttered his name under my breath, and at almost the same time, the sunlight hit the truck in front of me at a new angle. And there he was. Blocking my path with his slow moving clunker that was almost as old as mine. Boy was I ever tempted to honk my horn again. If he’d just get the hell out of my way.

  HONK HONK

  There. I’d done it. But James didn’t pick up the pace one bit. Goddamned road hog. Selfish son of a gun. Thank heavens the ramp to I-35 South was only another quarter mile up the road. Except, no. It was right there, barely fifteen feet up ahead. I’d spent all this time stewing over James and almost missed the turn. Flicking on my right-turn signal light, I braked a lot harder than I should to make the highway on-ramp. I was late shifting down to second gear, and all of a sudden I heard a loud, squealing sound coming from close to my foot. Shit. I started praying to the automotive gods to please not let that be a clutch release bearing failing. My mechanic in Austin had warned me about going easy on it. I was supposed to avoid changing speed too quickly, and that's exactly what I'd just done. Oh, hell. I could hear the lecture now, that on top of the age of this truck, my driving was destroying the clutch pressure plate. Eventually, the throwout bearing lever would become damaged and could break apart the flywheel or tear a hole in the bell housing.

  With this old truck, it’d be one step closer to the junkyard if that were to happen. Hell, it sounded like all of that was starting and much more, from the grinding vibration just beneath my feet. Instead of making it worse, I stopped the truck on the gravel shoulder of the on-ramp and found my phone. That was something else I'd learned from my mother. A stitch in time and all that. Because fixing the clutch would eat into my rent money, but it was far cheaper than having to replace my entire truck.

  I rolled into the parking lot of the diner over four hours late, and fifteen minutes after that, I was back behind the wheel of my truck again.

  And unemployed.

  My boss had just fired me for being late twice in as many weeks. He didn’t care that in my entire three-year employment with him, I’d only been late those two times. He didn’t give a damn that I had a good reason, that my truck needed fixing so I could make it to work at his diner.

  I sat there, staring out the window, my mind racing. On any other day, I would’ve been mad as hell and in a state of panic. Today, it felt like fate. I officially had no reason to stay in this crap job working for minimum wage and bad tips. Not when work at Uncle Hank’s ranch was waiting for me. Well, there was my apartment, but I was on a month-to-month arrangement. I’d lose the rest of the month’s rent, and maybe the security deposit, but now, I had options.

  Yes, all my options opened right up, and to be honest, it scared the hell out of me. Thinking big picture at a time like this would only make me feel more lost, so I turned off the part of me that was worried as hell, and dealt with the one task ahead of me.

  Moving to my uncle’s ranch in Temple.

  How was I going to do that on my own? I’d just forked out a few hundred dollars to pay for the busted clutch. I didn’t have the money to pay a moving company or even to rent a U-Haul truck. But I could buy a tarp at the big box store a block from my house. Then, packing my belongings into the truck bed would be reasonably easy, as would covering them securely with said tarp. Peyton would be perfectly fine riding shotgun in his pet carrier, and we’d be on our way to Temple.

  I just needed a little help.

  Reaching for my phone, I opened my text message app and tapped out a short note to my best friend, Riley-Ann.

  Me: Hey! What are you up to?

  Riley-Ann replied right away.

  Riley-Ann: Finishing up at work. You?

  Me: Let’s see… Drove up to Temple. Inherited half a ranch. Messed up the clutch in the truck. Fixed the clutch with my rent money. Got back late. Lost my job. Getting ready to leave town. Pretty uneventful on my end. So...got time to help me pack?

  Riley-Ann: What?!?

  Me: Yeah. ikr? Fmlrn. Oh, and my new biz partner is an arrogant prick.

  Riley-Ann: Girl, you sure you weren’t a country western songwriter in a former life? The only part missing is your state.

  Me: You mean Texas?

  Riley-Ann: No, Kitty. You know, your ‘yet-to-be-dehymenated’ status. Your ‘proud-to-carry-the-V card-into-your-twenties’ status.

  Me: Shut it, bestie. Dehymenated isn’t even a real word.

  Riley-Ann: I’m pretty sure it is. Hold a second. I’m at my computer right now. Let me check.

  Me: Seriously?

  Riley-Ann: Yes, I see it here, Kitty. Dehymenated. Here’s the definition. It’s the condition of an adult female who can no longer claim virgin status, typically because she has engaged in sexual intercourse of the vaginal persuasion, with an adult male. And wait! Under antonym, there’s a picture of you.

  Me: Lol stop kidding around. It’s not nice, kicking me when I’m down.

  Riley-Ann: Awww. But really, that’s one clutch we need to get fixed and fast. :)

  Me: Fine, be like that. But you’re only, what, seven, eight dicks ahead of me?

  Riley-Ann: Wuteva. Anyway, I want deets later. Are you home?

  Me: Will be in fifteen.

  Riley-Ann: Me too.

  Less than forty-eight hours later, I was starting a new chapter in my life. Peyton, my truck containing all my worldly possessions in the cab, and I made the trip to my uncle’s ranch without incident. The sky was overcast, suggesting it could rain anytime. Which meant I needed to unload my things soon. I’d passed some ranch hands on horseback as I drove up the one-mile dirt road from the street to the homestead. Red oaks lined each side of the road, their leaves and thinner branches swaying with the light breeze. The place
seemed just as beautiful and peaceful as it had been during my childhood. Little things reminded me of all the times I’d played on these gently sloping hills. God, life had been simple back then.

  I wasn’t surprised to find that the circular section of driveway in front of the homestead was deserted. Uncle Hank had lived alone in the big house. Taking it as a good sign, I took a chance and found the spare key under the second ceramic plant pot where my uncle used to leave it in case he was out with the cattle when we visited. I tested it on the front door and smiled. Not only did it still work, but the front door was unlocked, just like all those years ago. Some things never changed.

  After setting down Peyton’s carrier inside, I got to work. Box by box, I lined one wall of the spacious foyer area with my things. I could figure out bedrooms and such later.

  On my fifth or sixth trip out to my truck, the sky went white from a flash of lightning. I’d barely counted to three before there was the almost deafening peal of thunder. Rain was imminent, and possibly a thunderstorm. Time to pick up the pace.

  I hurried inside with two stacked plastic containers this time, and when I made it to the driveway again, a tall blond ranch hand was headed my way with his paws on three of my boxes stacked in his lean, toned arms. My first thought was James had probably sent him to help me before the rains came. I gave him a polite nod and held the front door open.

  5

  James

  I wiped the rain off my brow and put my hat back on, surveying the green, rolling hills. It was so peaceful, and quiet here. There was no place lovelier on God’s green earth. I patted my eyes with a bandana. The hat was usually enough to keep my face dry, but not today. The rain wasn’t heavy yet, but it was falling damn near sideways.

  It was close to quittin’ time anyway, so I headed toward the house. We’d already checked the creek and the banks for stragglers. I was bone-tired and craving a bowl of stew and then putting my feet up. It was getting dark, fast.