Saddled and Spurred
Page 13Something unreadable flitted through his eyes.
Oh, God. Did Bran think she was totally bonkers? “I swear—”
“Lemme ask you something. Did the goats see you before you took their picture?”
Harper frowned. “I don’t think so. I was watching them from the side of the barn.”
“So you could’ve startled them?”
“Well, I did jump out and yell, ‘Say goat cheese!’ So I suppose that might’ve startled them.”
Bran started to laugh. He laughed so hard he had to bend over to catch his breath. Just when she thought he’d stop, he’d look up at her, tears swimming in his silvery eyes, and then look over at the goats and start laughing all over again.
Although he was busting a serious gut, she didn’t find any humor in this situation at all.
Finally, he said, “Goddamn. I’m sorry, Harper. It’s just . . .”
“What? I’m not crazy. Those goats were dead to the world.”
“I believe you.” He grinned like he had a huge secret. “But it’ll be easiest to show you.” He faced the pen and yelled, “Boo!” while leaping against the chicken wire covering the cage.
Harper moved beside Bran, hooking her gloved fingers through the holes in the chicken wire. “What are they, possessed?”
“No. This kind of goat is called a Kentucky stiff leg. The odd thing is, they faint whenever they’re startled. And it starts a chain reaction among the other goats around them. They just faint dead away—pardon the pun.”
“How long do they stay like that?”
“Anywhere from one minute to five minutes. These two seem to stay out of it longer than others I’ve seen.”
“What are their names?”
“Pox and Hex. Pox is the smaller one. She’s pregnant.”
That made Harper feel worse. Didn’t it hurt the kid when the mama goat plummeted to her fake death? “Wait. Pox and Hex? Strange names.”
“Charlie gave them to me as a surprise.”
“Does he hate you or something?”
Bran snorted. “Or something. You must’ve moved pretty fast if you got ’em in the shed before they came to.”
“Hey.” Soft leather brushed her chin and Bran lifted her face up to meet his eyes. “Not your fault. I should’ve warned you. Since I’ve been around ranch work my whole life, this stuff comes natural to me and I don’t even think about it.”
“Bran. There is nothing natural about fainting goats.”
He smiled, but his gaze seemed stuck on her mouth. “I may forget to teach you some things. But I’d never do it intentionally to make you feel stupid, Harper. I ain’t that kind of man.”
A warm feeling flowed through her. “Thanks. And I promise if I make another mistake, I won’t try to hide the evidence.”
“Workin’ with you ain’t gonna ever be boring, that’s for damn sure.” His smile faded and he stepped back. “Come on. Chores are waitin’.”
Hours later Harper stumbled in the door and headed directly for the shower. She’d managed to act blasé around Bran, as if being covered in birth gunk and cow poop hadn’t bothered her in the least.
But it had. Oh, man, had it ever.
She flipped on the shower to warm it up while she stripped. Once the hot water hit her cold skin, she didn’t even mind the stinging sensation. She lathered up with her favorite peach soap and let the steaming water flow over her. Sometimes a hot shower was better than an orgasm.
Probably not better than the orgasms Bran could give you.
She shuddered, wondering what it’d feel like having Bran’s strong, rough-skinned hands all over her.
Not that it would be difficult, since Harper had limited sexual experience. Due to her mother’s reputation of spreading her legs for any man, of any age, size, race, or creed, Harper had gone in the opposite direction and remained chaste. She’d lost her virginity simply out of curiosity, choosing a college guy with more brains than brawn. They’d dated a while. Sex between them hadn’t driven her to the pinnacle of ecstasy her girlfriends raved about. Then her mom had uprooted them from Montana, ending her brief stab at a romance.
After she’d started winning pageants, the coordinators constantly warned her to be discreet in her dealings with the opposite sex. Apparently many men considered bagging a beauty queen a sign of masculine prowess, entitling them to bragging rights. So Harper decided to deal with that issue by staying abstinent, never expecting that it would last four years.
Within a week of passing off her final crown and title, she accepted a date with a man older than the college guys who’d been sniffing around. She learned firsthand there was no substitute for a sexually experienced male who took pride in pleasing a woman in bed. A mere month into the relationship, Harper learned her mother had bailed on poor Bailey. Since she’d moved back to Muddy Gap, no man had captured her interest.
Until Bran.
Too bad you’re not his type.
No, too bad he was her boss.
Harper toweled off and applied minimal makeup—foundation, mascara, and pale pink lip gloss. After tossing her dirty clothes into the tiny laundry room, she pawed through her dresser. She couldn’t wait to wear something besides jeans and boots for her short shift at Get Nailed. Bran was paying her enough that she could give notice to Bernice, but spending time chatting with her customers allowed her to feel part of the community. None of the women who patronized Bernice’s Beauty Barn ever uttered snarky comments about Harper’s mother or her mother’s irresponsible actions. Those wonderful ladies accepted her. Period. Which was worth way more than the pittance she earned.