Saddled and Spurred: A Blacktop Cowboys Novel by Lorelei James Page A

it. “Isn’t that human nature? Always thinking there’s something better out there?”
    “What about you, Harper?”
    “I’ll go wherever Bailey goes. She’ll need my support.” Even when she thinks she doesn’t need it.
    Maybelle turned her hand and squeezed Harper’s fingers. “That’s not what I meant.”
    Confused, she looked up.
    “Sometimes what we need is right in front of our faces and we can’t see it.”
    Okay. That was vague. Harper smiled. “Let’s get those nails buffed up and ready for that hoochie mama polish.”
    Maybelle tittered like a schoolgirl.
    After she finished with Maybelle, Chrissy Baker raced in for a repair job because she’d broken two nails changing a flat tire on her pickup and she had a late date. Then Garnet requested a quick color change, which morphed into a full manicure and another round of whether a man was sexier wearing boxers or briefs.
    Knowing she’d need the caffeine for later, Harper poured a cup of coffee and sipped, waiting for her next client.
    “So you ended up working for Bran Turner, huh?” Bernice said.
    “Yep. Luckily I don’t have to drive to Rawlins every day and serve up fries or make beds to earn a living.”
    Bernice lit a cigarette. “That’s all you feel you’re qualified to do?”
    Harper nodded.
    “What were you studyin’ at that community college in Casper?”
    “Fashion merchandising and marketing.”
    “Really?” Bernice inhaled and blew out a stream of smoke. “That seems the perfect fit for you. Do you plan on finishing your degree once you leave Muddy Gap?”
    Harper was too embarrassed to admit that if she hadn’t come home to take care of Bailey, she might’ve ended up coming home anyway because she hadn’t been doing so hot with some of the college courses. “Depends on where Bailey and I end up.”
    Bernice studied her through the blue haze.
    “What?”
    “You gonna be okay when Bailey ain’t your responsibility anymore?”
    She’ll always be my responsibility.
    The doorbell clanged and all three hundred pounds of Mimi Julanski thundered in, saving Harper from having to answer Bernice’s question out loud.

Chapter Four

    One week later . . .
     
    D ue to a partial snowmelt Bran suggested they check cattle with the ATVs instead of the truck. It’d been a month since he’d double-checked a couple of problem areas that he couldn’t get to in his pickup. After he’d loaded up wire cutters and other supplies, he wondered how Harper would fare helping with the most monotonous aspect of ranching—fixing fence. But he didn’t doubt her ability. She’d done remarkably well with every mundane task he’d set in front of her the last week.
    So when Harper breezily assured him that she had experience driving an ATV, he’d sped off ahead of her, expecting that she would keep up.
    She hadn’t.
    Not even fucking close.
    Jesus. The woman drove like a ninety-year-old retirement home escapee. At the rate she was meandering along, it’d take them all damn day to reach the freakin’ fence, let alone have time to fix the damn thing once they actually got there.
    Bran waited impatiently by the gate—the gate he’d had to open because his gate opener was a quarter mile behind him.
    And when she’d finally puttered up alongside him, her cheeks pinkened by the wind, strands of blond hair sticking to her face and poking out of her hood, looking so goddamn cute and yet breathtakingly beautiful, he got instantly hard. And he got instantly mad about getting hard. He snarled, “Dammit, Harper. Is it too much to ask you to keep up with me?”
    She peered at him over the top of her sunglasses. Dark, movie-star-type sunglasses bejeweled with pink and purple rhinestones in the corners above her eyes, for chrissake. “I didn’t know we were racing.”
    “We’re not. But—”
    “This is a dangerous job. I’m not about to pitch myself off this thing headfirst into a snowbank because you want to prove you can outmaneuver me. You