to clean up the breakfast dishes.
Chapter 5
----
G arrett was more than a little put out to find that none of his normally well-mannered siblings had bothered to bring Chelsea Brennan’s luggage in from her car. It was pushing nine a.m. by the time he’d finished checking on the wounded calf, returned it to its mamma and ridden the fence lines, checking on the cattle as he did every morning and again every night. The two hours it took to cover the pastures did him as much good as it did the cattle, he thought. It relaxed him.
This morning, he’d only found one minor problem. Some brush had blown into the wire, shorting out the electric fence and leaving a portion vulnerable. Fortunately, the cows hadn’t figured it out yet. Fat, happy Herefords stood around chewing grass and eyeing him while he cut the brush away and tested the fence.
When he and Duke galloped toward the barns again, Garrett saw Chelsea. She sat in the porch swing, Bubba in her arms. And she was still wearing Jessi’s pink robe.
The picture she made there struck him hard for some reason, and he drew Duke to a stop and just sat there, not quite sure why or what to do next. Duke needed some oats and a good rundown. But his unwilling houseguest was obviously being neglected.
Good manners prevailed, as they generally did with Garrett. He touched his heels to Duke’s flanks and turned the horse toward the house. Stopping at the front porch, he slid easily to the ground and took a second to loop the reins around the hitching rail even though it was unnecessary. Duke wouldn’t stray. In truth, he needed a minute to shake off the odd feeling the sight of her and Ethan sitting there in that porch swing–almost as if they were waiting for him–had caused in his gut. Like indigestion, only worse. He glanced around, looking everywhere but at her. Wes crouched near the gate to the horse pasture, tinkering with that loose hinge. Elliot held the thing in place for him as he worked. Both, though, were watching Garrett and Chelsea. Garrett saw the sneaky glances, the narrowed eyes.
His brothers didn’t like Miss Chelsea Brennan very much, he deduced. And they trusted her even less.
“So, how’s the calf?” she asked
Garrett brought his head around fast. Was that an attempt at civil conversation? Or was she just gearing up to make some nasty remark?
“Out in the pasture with his mamma. He’ll be fine.”
“Barbed wire is cruel,” she observed, and though her voice was deep and soft, he heard the acid in her tone. “It ought to be illegal.”
Garrett narrowed his eyes at her and tried not to notice the swell of her breasts peeking out at him from where the robe’s neckline took a swan dive. “We’ve replaced it with smooth wire for that very reason. The piece that calf found was left over from days gone by. Grass had grown over it, so we must have missed it when we were clearing out the old fences.”
And just why the hell was he explaining himself to her?
“Electric shock therapy for cows,” she decreed with all the pomposity of a haughty despot, “is just as bad.’’
“I have to disagree with you there, ma’am. The voltage is real low, and once they get bit on the nose, they tend to stay away from it.”
She sniffed and looked away from him.
“It’s better than letting them wander off and get lost,” Garrett persisted. “Even a city girl ought to have sense enough to see that much.”
She slanted him a glance that stung worse than any electric fence he’d ever accidentally grabbed hold of.
Garrett shifted his stance, regretting his hostile response. If he wanted to help Bubba, he couldn’t go making this woman his enemy. He had to try to cozy up to her, keep her here until he figured out what to do. Okay, time to start over again. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking–”
“Did it hurt much?”
Garrett clenched his jaw. Cozying up to the hellcat wasn’t going to be an easy task. “I was thinking,” he
Chapter 5
----
G arrett was more than a little put out to find that none of his normally well-mannered siblings had bothered to bring Chelsea Brennan’s luggage in from her car. It was pushing nine a.m. by the time he’d finished checking on the wounded calf, returned it to its mamma and ridden the fence lines, checking on the cattle as he did every morning and again every night. The two hours it took to cover the pastures did him as much good as it did the cattle, he thought. It relaxed him.
This morning, he’d only found one minor problem. Some brush had blown into the wire, shorting out the electric fence and leaving a portion vulnerable. Fortunately, the cows hadn’t figured it out yet. Fat, happy Herefords stood around chewing grass and eyeing him while he cut the brush away and tested the fence.
When he and Duke galloped toward the barns again, Garrett saw Chelsea. She sat in the porch swing, Bubba in her arms. And she was still wearing Jessi’s pink robe.
The picture she made there struck him hard for some reason, and he drew Duke to a stop and just sat there, not quite sure why or what to do next. Duke needed some oats and a good rundown. But his unwilling houseguest was obviously being neglected.
Good manners prevailed, as they generally did with Garrett. He touched his heels to Duke’s flanks and turned the horse toward the house. Stopping at the front porch, he slid easily to the ground and took a second to loop the reins around the hitching rail even though it was unnecessary. Duke wouldn’t stray. In truth, he needed a minute to shake off the odd feeling the sight of her and Ethan sitting there in that porch swing–almost as if they were waiting for him–had caused in his gut. Like indigestion, only worse. He glanced around, looking everywhere but at her. Wes crouched near the gate to the horse pasture, tinkering with that loose hinge. Elliot held the thing in place for him as he worked. Both, though, were watching Garrett and Chelsea. Garrett saw the sneaky glances, the narrowed eyes.
His brothers didn’t like Miss Chelsea Brennan very much, he deduced. And they trusted her even less.
“So, how’s the calf?” she asked
Garrett brought his head around fast. Was that an attempt at civil conversation? Or was she just gearing up to make some nasty remark?
“Out in the pasture with his mamma. He’ll be fine.”
“Barbed wire is cruel,” she observed, and though her voice was deep and soft, he heard the acid in her tone. “It ought to be illegal.”
Garrett narrowed his eyes at her and tried not to notice the swell of her breasts peeking out at him from where the robe’s neckline took a swan dive. “We’ve replaced it with smooth wire for that very reason. The piece that calf found was left over from days gone by. Grass had grown over it, so we must have missed it when we were clearing out the old fences.”
And just why the hell was he explaining himself to her?
“Electric shock therapy for cows,” she decreed with all the pomposity of a haughty despot, “is just as bad.’’
“I have to disagree with you there, ma’am. The voltage is real low, and once they get bit on the nose, they tend to stay away from it.”
She sniffed and looked away from him.
“It’s better than letting them wander off and get lost,” Garrett persisted. “Even a city girl ought to have sense enough to see that much.”
She slanted him a glance that stung worse than any electric fence he’d ever accidentally grabbed hold of.
Garrett shifted his stance, regretting his hostile response. If he wanted to help Bubba, he couldn’t go making this woman his enemy. He had to try to cozy up to her, keep her here until he figured out what to do. Okay, time to start over again. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking–”
“Did it hurt much?”
Garrett clenched his jaw. Cozying up to the hellcat wasn’t going to be an easy task. “I was thinking,” he
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