Читать книгу The Renegade Cowboy Returns - Tina Leonard - Страница 11

Chapter Two

When Gage ran into Jonas Callahan in Tempest’s town square, he was ready to let all his annoyance fall on his employer’s head. “Jonas, you ornery son of a gun,” he began, stopping when Jonas held up a hand.

“You can thank me later,” Jonas said. “I can’t chitchat now. I need to go over last-minute plans with an architect. I think I’m going to knock the farmhouse down and start over. It’s just much too small.”

Gage’s jaw tightened. “Knock it down? It’s the only livable place at Dark Diablo.”

“True,” Jonas agreed. “I wouldn’t do it until after the summer is over. Cat will have gone back to school by then, is how I figure it. Chelsea will have finished her Great Novel, and you can park your boots in the bunkhouse.”

The bunkhouse was, as Chelsea had noted, pretty old and not really inhabitable, even for someone who was as used to roughing it as he was. “This is almost the end of June, Jonas. What if I can’t get the bunkhouse and the barn renovated that fast?”

Jonas glanced at him. “My brothers and I can come over and crew for you if you need us.”

“I’ll know soon enough, I guess.” Gage wasn’t certain how to take this change of plans. “Why did I think the job was for about six months?”

“It is,” Jonas said, surprised, “unless you finish sooner or get sick of it. Do you have a problem with sleeping in a bunkhouse?”

Gage shook his head, not bothering to point out that the roof had holes in it the size of owls. He could get those patched up in the next month. He could get a lot done—if he didn’t have Cat to entertain. Secretly, he wasn’t certain what to do with a daughter he didn’t know that well. He’d met her only once, and he’d been nervous as hell.

The only good thing about having Chelsea and her mom on the property was that maybe they’d provide a buffer.

“Frankly, I’m scared shi—”

“Well, don’t worry,” Jonas said, his tone jovial as he pushed his hat down a little more comfortably on his head. “So, what’d you think of Chelsea?”

What did he think of Chelsea? Now, that was a loaded question. Gage sent his friend a suspicious glance, keeping his face unreadable. She was beautiful, for one. She had a helluva rack on her, and seeing her bare and not reacting had taken all of his self-control. Taut nipples, sweet breasts—he broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with the hot New Mexico sun. “Last I saw her, she was pretty upset about a little friend that was visiting. I’m hoping she’ll calm down before I get back.”

Jonas looked up from staring at his phone, his attention finally caught. “What kind of friend?”

“A snake friend. Just a small one, maybe a foot long. Nothing to get excited about. Be seeing you, Jonas.” Gage nodded and went down the sidewalk toward the lumber store, not feeling any more need to socialize. Reading Jonas the riot act about sticking him with a red-haired, sexy female wasn’t going to do anything but give his friend fodder for tales around the dinner table. He knew the Callahans too well.

I can take it, Gage thought. He just wasn’t certain he could take Chelsea and Cat and Ma all under one roof, when he didn’t know any of them at all.

* * *

“JONAS!” CHELSEA EXCLAIMED when her one-time fiancé banged on the front door. “Get in here so I can bawl you out like you’ve never been bawled out before!”

He came in, looking a bit wary, wearing a smile to placate her. She was not placated.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was going to be someone else living here?” she began hotly.

“Everything happened quickly,” Jonas said. “Both of you are making way too big a deal of this. Pretend like this farmhouse is a bed-and-breakfast. Would you care who the other boarders were?”

“No,” Chelsea said, clenching her teeth, “at least not until one of them shot a gun near my feet, I wouldn’t.”

“Gun?” Jonas perked up. “Gage wouldn’t fire a gun near you, Chelsea.”

“Well, he did.” She wasn’t about to share the whole bikini topless incident.

“Had to have had a good reason.”

Jonas’s eyes began to twinkle, and she knew from experience that he was vastly amused and couldn’t wait to hear the whole story, which would be retold later to his brothers and their wives with great gusto.

“Were you being mean to him, Chelsea?” Jonas asked, his tone rich with teasing.

“No, Jonas, I wasn’t.” He was referring to her Irish temper, knowing full well she wasn’t really mean to anybody.

But she did have a temper.

Which she didn’t intend to rein in now.

“Did this have anything to do with a critter you didn’t want around?”

“I am quite certain, Jonas, that Gage has told you everything, if you know about the critter. I’m sure he couldn’t wait to have a good laugh at my expense.”

“Now, now,” Jonas said, his voice comforting. “Gage didn’t tell me anything except that some animal had been around, and you hadn’t been happy about it.”

“It was a snake,” she said.

“Snakes are no fun,” Jonas agreed, trying to get on her good side. “What kind was it?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” she snapped.

“It’s important to know, Chelsea. If it was poisonous, I need to look for a nest and—”

“A nest!” Her blood ran cold.

He looked at her, his gaze curious. “You’re really afraid of snakes, aren’t you?”

“Everyone who is normal has a fear of snakes,” Chelsea stated, “unless that’s their line of work. And I’m not a snake charmer. Yes, Jonas, you know darn well that I’m as unenthusiastic about snakes as your five sisters-in-law and your wife would be.”

“True,” he conceded. “Snakes are not welcome around Rancho Diablo.”

“Well, then.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe you’d like to go take a look at it and catalog it. The stupid thing is down by the creek.”

“All right.” He ambled off, letting the screen door slam. Chelsea shook her head, thinking that men could be so dense at times. She went back to dusting, arranging the kitchen so she could start cooking tomorrow.

Cleaning made her start thinking about her heroine, who was still in danger and dangling cliffside.

This writer’s block is terrible. I don’t know how to get the story to flow again. I need peace and quiet and—

“Aw,” Jonas said, coming back inside with half a snake dangling from his hand. “It was just a—”

Chelsea screamed, a good old-fashioned gut scream that probably moved nearby mountains.

“What?” he said. “This is just a harmless—”

“Get it out of the house!”

“All right, all right.” He exited his own house in a hurry, recognizing that he and his trophy weren’t welcome. Chelsea grabbed a glass of water, drinking to calm herself.

“I’m sure that snake was more scared of you than you were of it,” he called from the porch.

“Shut up, Jonas,” she said, and then she heard Gage and him giggling outside the screen door like a couple hyenas. Like children. Chelsea drew a deep breath, marched to the front door, slammed it shut and locked it.

Boys might be boys—but not at her expense.

* * *

“NOW YOU’VE DONE IT,” Gage told Jonas. “I could have told you that gag wasn’t going to play well. Although it was funny. That Irish is a screamer for certain.”

His friend couldn’t contain his grin. “I’m going to take it home and bring it out at the dinner table.”

“Sabrina will probably let you have it upside the bean with a dinner plate,” Gage warned.

“This is true.” Jonas stuck his prize in a sack and went off. “Good luck, by the way.”

“Good luck with what?” he asked, knowing the sentiment had been loaded.

“Getting back in the house. Ever again.” Whistling, Jonas got in his truck and drove away, his conscience completely unbothered by how he’d destroyed Gage’s plans to get on Chelsea’s good side.

She wasn’t going to let him in tonight, he’d be willing to bet. “Nuts,” Gage said, thinking about the pretty breasts he’d tried so hard not to look at. Maybe it was better if he slept in the old run-down bunkhouse. Deciding there was always his truck to bed down in if he couldn’t stomach the conditions, he went off, cursing Jonas under his breath.

* * *

FROM HER UPSTAIRS bedroom window, Chelsea watched Gage slink off, a veritable snake in nicely fitting blue jeans that hugged his butt and yet sagged just enough to be comfortable. She should have known that any friend of the Callahans was bound to be a bad boy.

“I know how to handle men with a wild streak,” she said, setting down to her laptop. Bronwyn was in trouble, but Chelsea didn’t know how to help her. It all had to do with Bronwyn’s conflict, and Chelsea had yet to figure out exactly what that was. She had the feeling Bronwyn hadn’t yet been totally honest with her about her real emotions, the real thing that drove her to be a detective—

“Chelsea!”

She glanced out the bedroom window. Gage was below, waving something at her.

It looked like a white flag.

Truce?

She opened her window. “I’m busy. What do you want?”

He lowered the flag. “To ask you out to dinner.”

“Why?”

The question shot out of her more rudely than she’d intended. Once burned, twice shy…

“Just a friendly meal between two people who are sharing space.”

“We’re not,” she said very sweetly. “You’re out there and I’m cozy in here. But thanks.” She started to close the window.

“Chelsea, wait!”

She edged it up a little and looked out. “What’s the matter? Can’t you just grill a snake for your supper?”

He grinned at her, the devil in denim. “I could, but I’d rather share a meal with you.”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. You’re trouble, Texas.”

“Yeah. But you know that up front, so it’ll be easier for you. Anyway, we should try out a restaurant in Tempest. I’ll buy, since you’re mad at me. It’s the least I can do.”

“Then obviously you’ll be buying me dinner every night.”

Gage laughed, a full deep laugh that had the hair standing up on her arms. The man was too sexy for his own good—and she suspected he’d been told that a time or two by man-hunting ladies.

“You need to see the town,” he said. “Getting out will help you with your writing.”

Chelsea wrinkled her nose. He had a point—it wouldn’t hurt her to go do some exploring of her new town. Jonas had said Tempest was charming.

Anyway, she had a dangling heroine, and truthfully, she’d do anything to get rid of her stubborn case of writer’s block. “All right,” she said, not gracefully, either. This man had probably looked at her naked breasts, no doubt told Jonas she’d gotten out of the creek without her top. They’d probably had a great, knee-slapping guffaw over it. “I’m ordering steak, though. You pay for your sins around here, buster.”

“Come on down, Rapunzel. We’ll see if we can find you a steak in Tempest.”

Chelsea shut the window, closing the drapes so he couldn’t watch her change. It had been a long time since she’d had a real date, although this certainly couldn’t be called a date—more like a short truce. She and Jonas had never dated—their relationship had started out as an agreement between two people who each needed something.

I wanted out of Ireland. I wanted a climate that suited my mother’s health better. I wanted life beyond what I knew.

If I have to put up with a snake now and again, it’s going to be worth it—even if he has brown eyes and a body to die for.