Why had that kiss happened? Had it only stemmed from basic male attraction or because he was lonely? Oh, Lord, it didn’t matter, she tried to tell herself. After meeting the Calhouns, she’d start making plans to go home.
* * *
The next morning, after Bella left to make the forty-five mile trip over to Truckee, California, to visit their mother, Jett invited Sassy to join him on his feeding rounds. After being cooped up in the house since yesterday, she’d jumped at the chance to get outdoors and see part of the J Bar S.
After pulling on a pair of jeans, boots and a warm jacket, she walked down to a big red barn with the two collies, Mary and Max, trotting happily at her side. Once she reached the building, she found double doors swung wide and Jett inside, tossing hay bales into the back of a work truck. Bits of dried grass and dust flew all around him and floated through the shafts of morning sunlight.
Careful to stand out of the way, Sassy watched him finish with the hay, then add several sacks of cattle feed on top of the load. The effortless way he handled the heavy sacks told Sassy he was accustomed to doing much more than just sitting at a desk shuffling legal papers.
When she’d first met him in the airport yesterday, she’d taken note of his headgear. This morning he was wearing the same battered gray hat. Sweat stained the band and the repetitive pressure of his fingers against the crown had caused one of the creases to split and create a hole in the felt.
Sassy had learned to read a lot about a cowboy’s character in his hat. And Jett’s was definitely full of personality. The fact that he chose not to replace the worn piece of equipment with a new one said he was sentimental about his possessions. Plus, he didn’t need fancy to make him feel important. She liked that about him. But then, that was the problem. She liked far too many things about the man.
He motioned for the dogs to jump up onto the truck, and once they were settled on top of the feed sacks, he shut the tailgate and looked over to her. “I’m all set here,” he said. “Are you ready?”
She moved to where he stood. “Ready and bundled in my warmest clothing.”
“I promise you’re not going to be cold. This old truck looks a little rough, but the heater still works great.” He reached for her elbow. “Come along and I’ll help you climb up.”
Once they were settled in the cab, Jett backed the vehicle out of the barn, then steered it onto a dirt track packed hard from constant use. As they headed toward the open range, Sassy wondered if the space in the cab had suddenly shrunk. Jett felt so near she could practically feel the heat of his body and smell the masculine scent emanating from his clothing.
“The cattle are on the other side of this mesa. Not far from here,” he said, as he steered the truck in a northerly direction. “They’ve been getting fed every day so we won’t have to hunt them. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Trying to get her mind off him and onto their surroundings, she peered out the windshield at the rough terrain. “How long have you had this ranch?”
To their left, fir-covered mountains were less than a quarter mile off, while to the immediate right, the land swept away to scrubby desert terrain full of sagebrush and juniper. It was wild and beautiful land with more wide open space to it than the Chaparral, which was surrounded by steep mountains.
“My maternal grandparents, Adah and Melvin Whitfield, used to own this property,” he said. “Along with a nice herd of cattle. But age caught up with them, and they decided to scale down to a smaller ranch in southern California where the climate is much easier. Rather than sell this place they gave it to my mother, but she never was interested in country living. She sold the cattle, and I bought her out of the property with the assurance it would always remain in the family. That happened about six years ago, and since then I’ve been
* * *
The next morning, after Bella left to make the forty-five mile trip over to Truckee, California, to visit their mother, Jett invited Sassy to join him on his feeding rounds. After being cooped up in the house since yesterday, she’d jumped at the chance to get outdoors and see part of the J Bar S.
After pulling on a pair of jeans, boots and a warm jacket, she walked down to a big red barn with the two collies, Mary and Max, trotting happily at her side. Once she reached the building, she found double doors swung wide and Jett inside, tossing hay bales into the back of a work truck. Bits of dried grass and dust flew all around him and floated through the shafts of morning sunlight.
Careful to stand out of the way, Sassy watched him finish with the hay, then add several sacks of cattle feed on top of the load. The effortless way he handled the heavy sacks told Sassy he was accustomed to doing much more than just sitting at a desk shuffling legal papers.
When she’d first met him in the airport yesterday, she’d taken note of his headgear. This morning he was wearing the same battered gray hat. Sweat stained the band and the repetitive pressure of his fingers against the crown had caused one of the creases to split and create a hole in the felt.
Sassy had learned to read a lot about a cowboy’s character in his hat. And Jett’s was definitely full of personality. The fact that he chose not to replace the worn piece of equipment with a new one said he was sentimental about his possessions. Plus, he didn’t need fancy to make him feel important. She liked that about him. But then, that was the problem. She liked far too many things about the man.
He motioned for the dogs to jump up onto the truck, and once they were settled on top of the feed sacks, he shut the tailgate and looked over to her. “I’m all set here,” he said. “Are you ready?”
She moved to where he stood. “Ready and bundled in my warmest clothing.”
“I promise you’re not going to be cold. This old truck looks a little rough, but the heater still works great.” He reached for her elbow. “Come along and I’ll help you climb up.”
Once they were settled in the cab, Jett backed the vehicle out of the barn, then steered it onto a dirt track packed hard from constant use. As they headed toward the open range, Sassy wondered if the space in the cab had suddenly shrunk. Jett felt so near she could practically feel the heat of his body and smell the masculine scent emanating from his clothing.
“The cattle are on the other side of this mesa. Not far from here,” he said, as he steered the truck in a northerly direction. “They’ve been getting fed every day so we won’t have to hunt them. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Trying to get her mind off him and onto their surroundings, she peered out the windshield at the rough terrain. “How long have you had this ranch?”
To their left, fir-covered mountains were less than a quarter mile off, while to the immediate right, the land swept away to scrubby desert terrain full of sagebrush and juniper. It was wild and beautiful land with more wide open space to it than the Chaparral, which was surrounded by steep mountains.
“My maternal grandparents, Adah and Melvin Whitfield, used to own this property,” he said. “Along with a nice herd of cattle. But age caught up with them, and they decided to scale down to a smaller ranch in southern California where the climate is much easier. Rather than sell this place they gave it to my mother, but she never was interested in country living. She sold the cattle, and I bought her out of the property with the assurance it would always remain in the family. That happened about six years ago, and since then I’ve been
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