Not the Marrying Kind by Christina Cole Read Free Book Online Page B

a brow. “I beg your pardon,
missy, but—”
    “You’re lame.”
    “I’ve been called worse.”
    “This isn’t a joke.”
    “No, missy, it isn’t. I’m actually not one
to joke around, especially not on the job.”
    “You’re not on the job yet.”
    “No, missy, not until Monday morning.” He’d
been holding his hat, now he plopped it on his head, planted his
legs a few feet apart and stared down at her. “I do all right for a
man with a bad leg, and yes, I’ve got experience and plenty of it.”
Not really true. He’d had experience with some things. Ranching
didn’t happen to be among them, but she didn’t need to know
that.
    “Longhorns?” she asked. “They’re tough
critters.”
    “Yes, missy, they are.” For some reason, he
wanted to rile her, just a bit. He liked the way she ruffled so
easily.
    A gust of wind rose up, whipping her long
hair around her face. She reached up, grabbed her blowing tresses
and held them back. “Look, in the first place,” she said, scowling,
“my name isn’t Missy, and in the second place—”
    “I didn’t mean any offense by it. You look
like a Missy to me. Katherine, is it? Or do you prefer Miss
Phillips?”
    She puffed up like a blowfish, and Joshua
fought a losing battle against his laughter. She obviously didn’t
find it funny. Standing with her arms akimbo, her head slightly
cocked, she looked exactly like a stubborn little girl. Her father
had called it right. Except that Kat was not a little girl.
She was a woman. He wondered if she’d figured that out yet.
    “Kat,” she said. Some of her bluster blew
away.
    “Huh?”
    “Kat,” she repeated. “That’s what my friends
call me.”
    “Does that mean we’re friends now?”
    She shook her head. “Nope. Not even close.”
She stepped away, eyed him up and down, then nodded. “Be here early
Monday morning.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Late that night, Kat sat at the dressing
table, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she gathered her
hair and twisted it into a single braid. She wore a long white
nightgown trimmed in lace. Mama had given it to her for her
birthday, no doubt hoping it might make Kat—no, Katherine—feel more
feminine. She sighed. It hadn’t worked.
    Maybe if she had a few more curves in
strategic places…or if her breasts were a bit fuller. Rising from
the upholstered bench, she turned this way and that before the
mirror, studying her lithe, flat-chested form.
    Nope. She’d never make much of a woman.
    But it suited Kat just fine. She didn’t want
to be a woman, didn’t want to depend on a husband to take care of
her, and sure as hell didn’t want to be a meek, submissive little
flower, fawning over a man and doing her best to please him.
Marriage was meant for timid, weak-willed women.
    She frowned. That description certainly did
not fit her mother. Of course, her mother was an exception.
Strong-willed women usually didn’t fare so well in marriage, but
Kat’s parents had made it work. Maybe because both of them—her
mother and her father—were strong. They were like a team of
well-matched horses, yoked side-by-side, able to help one another
pull the load.
    That sort of perfect relationship didn’t
happen often. Few men were willing to accept a woman as an equal
partner.
    Nope, marriage was not in Kat’s plans. All
she wanted was to stay at the ranch, and somehow she would prove to
her father that she had the brains, if not the brawn, to run the
Rocking P. She could get help for the hard manual labor and the
tasks she was not physically able to do by herself.
    Her thoughts went at once to Joshua Barron.
Why had her father hired him? Barron hardly seemed a likely
prospect for the foreman’s job.
    For that matter, why had Pa changed his
mind? When she’d spoken to him before, he’d been adamant in his
refusal. After Mr. Barron came riding up to the ranch, however,
he’d quickly decided to give Kat a chance.
    Of course, he’d made that decision
contingent upon a few