couple of yards away and stared, then leaned close together and whispered. The short one raised his hands, grinned, and backed off a step. The well-built cowpoke hooked his thumbs into the leather waistband of his chaps and sauntered forward. “Howdy, ma’am. Nice day, ain’t it?” He grinned and waited for her reply.
Angel gawked at the man, then swung her gaze to his partner. What did they want? She relaxed her grip on her revolver.
As the silence stretched, the man’s grin faded, and a red stain crept up his neck and into his cheeks. He dropped his head and scuffed his boot in the dust. “Guess I didn’t learn the manners my mama tried to teach me.” His shoulders squared, and he raised his chin. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, I shoulda introduced myself.”
His friend grabbed his arm and hissed close to his ear, “Let’s slope out of here. You done made an idj’t of yerself.” They took a step back, the shorter man still clutching the taller one’s arm.
Angel broke from her stupor. “Wait. What are your names?”
The bowlegged cowboy’s ears turned pink, and he yanked the hat from his head. “I’m Wren, and this here long drink of water is Arizona.”
The cowboy in question withdrew his hat and bowed from the waist, leaning over until his sombrero almost swept the ground. He rose back up and laid his hat over his heart. “I am mighty pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Arizona shot a quick glance at Wren and took a step toward Angel. “You’re some handy with that sidearm and rifle, and a purty woman to boot. Where’d you learn to shoot so good?”
Angel’s smile faded. “My uncle taught me.”
Wren edged closer. “He must be a fine man. Don’t know too many uncles what would learn a girl to shoot.”
She stiffened. “Yes.” These two cowpokes were getting too personal. “I need to get my things.” Angel turned on her heel and strode toward her horse. Time to put Bella up and find her a bait of grain.
“Aw, Wren, why’d you have to go and spook her? She was just warming up to us and you spoiled it.” Arizona’s drawl drifted after Angel as she sought refuge inside the barn.
Travis let the front door bang behind him. Maybe he should ease up on Libby and not expect so much. After all, she’d experienced a difficult loss a short time ago and was still adjusting to Western life. He settled his hat onto his head. Time to regain control of this day.
Heading toward the barn, he drew up short. James was standing at the nearly closed door of the barn, peeking inside. “James! What’re you doing?”
The boy leapt as if shot. “Nothin’, Uncle Travis. Honest.”
“I hope you’re not bothering Miss Ramirez.”
“She’s going to help me learn to shoot better.”
Travis wagged his head and stifled a groan. “I didn’t hire her to spend time with you.”
The boy dropped his eyes but not before Travis saw a glint of something—anger…rebellion?
James spun away from Travis. “I’ll go see if Ma needs me.” He raced away from the barn.
It was bad enough that his cowboys were smitten with the woman, but James as well? He hoped the boy wasn’t spying on Angelo. Angel. Miss Ramirez. He ground his teeth. What was he supposed to call the woman, anyway? Most of the men had nicknames, or went by their last name. No one stood on formality with a hand on a ranch, but he didn’t see himself calling her Angel. What kind of name was that for a girl, anyway?
How did he get saddled with a female cowhand who was too fetching for her own good? He hadn’t been smitten with a woman since he was nineteen, and boy howdy, he’d guard his heart against this one if it was the last thing he did. Making the ranch a success must remain his top priority. He’d be hanged if he’d let his men forget it. First thing, he’d ask around about someone who could take her place. Trouble wearing britches didn’t belong on his ranch.
Chapter Six
Angel swung her feet
Angel gawked at the man, then swung her gaze to his partner. What did they want? She relaxed her grip on her revolver.
As the silence stretched, the man’s grin faded, and a red stain crept up his neck and into his cheeks. He dropped his head and scuffed his boot in the dust. “Guess I didn’t learn the manners my mama tried to teach me.” His shoulders squared, and he raised his chin. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, I shoulda introduced myself.”
His friend grabbed his arm and hissed close to his ear, “Let’s slope out of here. You done made an idj’t of yerself.” They took a step back, the shorter man still clutching the taller one’s arm.
Angel broke from her stupor. “Wait. What are your names?”
The bowlegged cowboy’s ears turned pink, and he yanked the hat from his head. “I’m Wren, and this here long drink of water is Arizona.”
The cowboy in question withdrew his hat and bowed from the waist, leaning over until his sombrero almost swept the ground. He rose back up and laid his hat over his heart. “I am mighty pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Arizona shot a quick glance at Wren and took a step toward Angel. “You’re some handy with that sidearm and rifle, and a purty woman to boot. Where’d you learn to shoot so good?”
Angel’s smile faded. “My uncle taught me.”
Wren edged closer. “He must be a fine man. Don’t know too many uncles what would learn a girl to shoot.”
She stiffened. “Yes.” These two cowpokes were getting too personal. “I need to get my things.” Angel turned on her heel and strode toward her horse. Time to put Bella up and find her a bait of grain.
“Aw, Wren, why’d you have to go and spook her? She was just warming up to us and you spoiled it.” Arizona’s drawl drifted after Angel as she sought refuge inside the barn.
Travis let the front door bang behind him. Maybe he should ease up on Libby and not expect so much. After all, she’d experienced a difficult loss a short time ago and was still adjusting to Western life. He settled his hat onto his head. Time to regain control of this day.
Heading toward the barn, he drew up short. James was standing at the nearly closed door of the barn, peeking inside. “James! What’re you doing?”
The boy leapt as if shot. “Nothin’, Uncle Travis. Honest.”
“I hope you’re not bothering Miss Ramirez.”
“She’s going to help me learn to shoot better.”
Travis wagged his head and stifled a groan. “I didn’t hire her to spend time with you.”
The boy dropped his eyes but not before Travis saw a glint of something—anger…rebellion?
James spun away from Travis. “I’ll go see if Ma needs me.” He raced away from the barn.
It was bad enough that his cowboys were smitten with the woman, but James as well? He hoped the boy wasn’t spying on Angelo. Angel. Miss Ramirez. He ground his teeth. What was he supposed to call the woman, anyway? Most of the men had nicknames, or went by their last name. No one stood on formality with a hand on a ranch, but he didn’t see himself calling her Angel. What kind of name was that for a girl, anyway?
How did he get saddled with a female cowhand who was too fetching for her own good? He hadn’t been smitten with a woman since he was nineteen, and boy howdy, he’d guard his heart against this one if it was the last thing he did. Making the ranch a success must remain his top priority. He’d be hanged if he’d let his men forget it. First thing, he’d ask around about someone who could take her place. Trouble wearing britches didn’t belong on his ranch.
Chapter Six
Angel swung her feet
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