My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) by Kathy Carmichael
Book: My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) by Kathy Carmichael
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Authors: Kathy Carmichael
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family room. "Here you go."
"Smells great," he said, starting to rise from the sofa.
"Don't get up. Your ankle needs to stay raised." She placed the tray over his lap. "Dig in."
"Thanks. Did you get everything squared away at the barn?"
"Yes." She pulled his list from her pocket.
"Fed the horses?"
"Yes."
"Put them out to pasture?"
"Check."
"Mucked out the stalls?"
"Yes, and I laid fresh hay in them afterward." Her stomach growled, and she wanted to get back to the kitchen to eat her own breakfast. "I did everything on your list."
"I started a new one for you."
Oh, heavens. More work? She wanted to eat and take a shower, maybe even a nap. "A new list?"
Monty Joe didn't answer. He was distracted by something happening at his feet behind her.
Lori turned. There was Billy the Goat, nibbling on Monty Joe's sock on his good foot. She waved her hands. "Shoo, Billy."
His steely gaze met hers. "Did you feed him?"
Her thoughts went to her shirt. She sort of fed him. Guilt washed over her. Trying for a lighter tone, she asked, "Was it on your list?"
"No, but did it have to be? Surely common sense would dictate—"
"You're right. I should have thought of it. I'll do it right now."
She'd hoped he'd say it could wait until she ate. But he didn't.
Fair was fair. How could she eat knowing she'd skipped Billy? It sure explained why he'd eaten her shirt. "Let's get you some breakfast, Billy."
The animal followed her to the door.
As she left, she heard Monty Joe grumble, "True to form. Putting her own needs first."
Chapter 11
Once Monty Joe told Lori what Billy required, she had immediately gone out to the barn and fed him. Now she sat at the dining table, slowly eating her ice-cold breakfast, mired in self-recrimination. Of course she knew that goats need to be fed, that they couldn't survive on only shirttails and socks.
But that begged the question, what else had she forgotten? What else had she omitted doing? Especially when she was never that good at even taking care of her own needs?
And how on earth was she going to be able to take care of all the things that needed doing, all the animals that needed tending to, all the chores that must be completed, as well as an injured cowboy?
And apparently the injured cowboy didn't have much of a sense of humor when it came to his goat.
This is what came from her starting to like him. If he couldn't like her, at least she wanted his approval. Instead, she'd achieved the opposite.
There had been no need for him to lecture her about common sense. She had plenty. What she had been focused on, though, was his list. If it had been on his list, she would have done it. Not that he took any part of the blame.
She only wished she'd thought of it herself, list or no list.
Monty Joe apparently had more chores for her to do around the ranch, and she hoped it was a full and complete list this time.
She might not be able to keep ranch animals and a cantankerous cowboy alive on her own, but with his helpful and sometimes not so helpful suggestions, at least she'd have a good shot at succeeding.
With her stomach full, she could take a well-earned shower, then concentrate on her new roster of chores.
First she had to face the stupid cowboy and get his stupid list.
* * *
Monty Joe regretted the words he'd spat at Lori, but she didn't give him a chance to apologize when she came back from feeding Billy. She was right. Feeding the goat hadn't been on his list. He shouldn't expect her to know the ins and outs of running a working ranch when she'd never before been exposed to it.
When at last she peeked her head in from the kitchen entryway, her expression showed she expected him to jump down her throat again.
He hadn't been that awful. Hadn't raised his voice. But he'd sort of accused her of thinking only of herself and her own stomach. That hadn't been true then, and it wasn't true now.
"Lori, please come in and let me apologize."
As she approached, her weak smile
"Smells great," he said, starting to rise from the sofa.
"Don't get up. Your ankle needs to stay raised." She placed the tray over his lap. "Dig in."
"Thanks. Did you get everything squared away at the barn?"
"Yes." She pulled his list from her pocket.
"Fed the horses?"
"Yes."
"Put them out to pasture?"
"Check."
"Mucked out the stalls?"
"Yes, and I laid fresh hay in them afterward." Her stomach growled, and she wanted to get back to the kitchen to eat her own breakfast. "I did everything on your list."
"I started a new one for you."
Oh, heavens. More work? She wanted to eat and take a shower, maybe even a nap. "A new list?"
Monty Joe didn't answer. He was distracted by something happening at his feet behind her.
Lori turned. There was Billy the Goat, nibbling on Monty Joe's sock on his good foot. She waved her hands. "Shoo, Billy."
His steely gaze met hers. "Did you feed him?"
Her thoughts went to her shirt. She sort of fed him. Guilt washed over her. Trying for a lighter tone, she asked, "Was it on your list?"
"No, but did it have to be? Surely common sense would dictate—"
"You're right. I should have thought of it. I'll do it right now."
She'd hoped he'd say it could wait until she ate. But he didn't.
Fair was fair. How could she eat knowing she'd skipped Billy? It sure explained why he'd eaten her shirt. "Let's get you some breakfast, Billy."
The animal followed her to the door.
As she left, she heard Monty Joe grumble, "True to form. Putting her own needs first."
Chapter 11
Once Monty Joe told Lori what Billy required, she had immediately gone out to the barn and fed him. Now she sat at the dining table, slowly eating her ice-cold breakfast, mired in self-recrimination. Of course she knew that goats need to be fed, that they couldn't survive on only shirttails and socks.
But that begged the question, what else had she forgotten? What else had she omitted doing? Especially when she was never that good at even taking care of her own needs?
And how on earth was she going to be able to take care of all the things that needed doing, all the animals that needed tending to, all the chores that must be completed, as well as an injured cowboy?
And apparently the injured cowboy didn't have much of a sense of humor when it came to his goat.
This is what came from her starting to like him. If he couldn't like her, at least she wanted his approval. Instead, she'd achieved the opposite.
There had been no need for him to lecture her about common sense. She had plenty. What she had been focused on, though, was his list. If it had been on his list, she would have done it. Not that he took any part of the blame.
She only wished she'd thought of it herself, list or no list.
Monty Joe apparently had more chores for her to do around the ranch, and she hoped it was a full and complete list this time.
She might not be able to keep ranch animals and a cantankerous cowboy alive on her own, but with his helpful and sometimes not so helpful suggestions, at least she'd have a good shot at succeeding.
With her stomach full, she could take a well-earned shower, then concentrate on her new roster of chores.
First she had to face the stupid cowboy and get his stupid list.
* * *
Monty Joe regretted the words he'd spat at Lori, but she didn't give him a chance to apologize when she came back from feeding Billy. She was right. Feeding the goat hadn't been on his list. He shouldn't expect her to know the ins and outs of running a working ranch when she'd never before been exposed to it.
When at last she peeked her head in from the kitchen entryway, her expression showed she expected him to jump down her throat again.
He hadn't been that awful. Hadn't raised his voice. But he'd sort of accused her of thinking only of herself and her own stomach. That hadn't been true then, and it wasn't true now.
"Lori, please come in and let me apologize."
As she approached, her weak smile
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