My Southern Bride (The Texas Two-Step Series, Book 4) by Kathy Carmichael Read Free Book Online Page A

Lori."
    "Considering the weather, I don't have anything better to do." She tossed her head. "Besides, I'm happy to help out."
    "You know, I believe you are."
    She glanced down at his list, then shot him a mischievous grin. "Your notes say the feed is in the storage area—in garbage cans. Now just remind me, what does a garbage can look like?"
    He grinned back. "I've got it. From now on, I'll wait for you to ask if something isn't clear to you."
    "Perfect." She turned to go, then spun back. "Do you need anything before I go? Coffee? More notepads?"
    "I'm good for now."
    "I'll be back as soon as I can."
    She left and, with her, some of the light in the room left, too.
    Oh, yeah. The woman was amusing and entertaining, and if he wasn't careful, he'd go forgetting the trough-full of trouble one petite filly could cause.
    Forgetting and letting his guard down could spell disaster. He knew exactly what Lori Palmer was capable of, and didn't want to be another casualty of her wily ways.
    He turned the TV back to the weather, wishing for some small glimmer of hope the skies would clear up, the phone service would be restored, and he could go back to life as it had been: snow and Lori free.
    When the weatherman mentioned a second front, he snapped the TV back off. He was not getting his wish.
    He tried to wiggle his ankle to test it. No go. It was too swollen and painful still. He most definitely wouldn't be helping Lori out in the barn.
    This was not his day. Yesterday hadn't been either, and, with the way things were going, he hoped there wouldn't be an entire month of bad days ahead.
    Looking around for something to keep him occupied, he found nothing that appealed. A couple of old cattle magazines, a week-old newspaper and a pile of nails.
    His gaze landed on the notepad and pen.
    Since he and Lori were going to be stuck together for a while longer, maybe he needed to make her another list.

 
     
     
    Chapter 9

     
    Feeding the horses and putting them out to pasture, even in the midst of so much snow, wasn't as difficult as Lori had initially feared when she'd read Monty Joe's checklist. However, mucking out the stalls would never be on her bucket list. Ever.
    Monty Joe kept a clean barn, but horses do what they must do.
    Cleaning up after them wasn't fun. Even with a pitchfork and trashcan on wheels, it was hard and stinky labor.
    One stall down, and many to go, Lori wheeled the trashcan to the next stall. When she opened the door, something bumped her from behind.
    Lori yelped and grabbed the railing to keep from falling.
    She whipped around, and there she saw Billy the Goat smiling up at her.
    She grimaced. His smile looked wicked.
    "Head-butting without prior warning is forbidden, Billy."
    "Mehhhh," he replied.
    She was sure she'd locked him up the night before. "How did you get out of your pen?"
    "Mehhhh."
    "Hah. Not saying, huh?" Maybe she hadn't latched it properly last night. "Come along, and I'll put you back in your pen while I finish up the stalls."
    He followed her as she led the way to his pen. The gate was open, so she held it back further and motioned for Billy to go inside.
    While he made his way back into the pen, for the first time she noticed a gray spot shaped exactly like a heart on his left rump. Cute.
    "Good boy." Lori closed the gate and carefully fastened it. She shook it to make double sure it had locked. "I'll be back to play with you later."
    She returned to the second stall, grabbed her pitchfork and got to work. If Kelli could see her now, she'd be proud. As a veterinarian, Kelli was very particular about the proper care of animals, especially farm animals. She was all about cleanliness, and she'd have no complaints about the job Lori was doing. Even Monty Joe could have no objections.
    By the time she moved into the fourth stall, light perspiration covered her. She pulled out her shirttail from her pants and used it to blot her forehead, then returned to work.
    At about the halfway point, she