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Her father was the ultimate outdoorsman, looking like a gentleman farmer in his white T-shirt beneath a khaki vest, and navy-blue cargo pants. He was tall, elegant, assured, and their leader with twinkling dark eyes, and salt and pepper close-cropped beard and hair.
“Hi, Papa. Is everything all right?”
“Right as rain. You will be going to San Diego on a trip that will determine a large portion of our future profits.”
“Oh?” Then she smiled. “Does this mean you’re approving my aggressive expansion into the US coffee shop market?”
He nodded. “This is what it means.” He didn’t say anything for a moment, but she felt as if he was silently assessing his words before he spoke. “I have complete faith in you, for you always know that family and the business always come first.” His words were slow and measured, his voice the firm definition of authority. “I will expect nothing less than success.”
Another silence ensued, another discomfiting, tension-filled silence, and Maritza, even though she’d been looking forward to her father’s approval, knew his reminder was telling her that if she didn’t deliver, she would not only let him down, but all of them. She could tell it was going to be a tough few weeks away from home, ensconced in a bustling city of 1.3 million people while she negotiated contracts, found the right real estate, purchased properties, and planned for the opening of the Golden Grain coffee shops all up and down the West Coast. She accepted all that, including the burden he’d just set on her shoulders, but what she couldn’t accept and would never handle well was failure.
* * *
D-Day was still in awe of this whole spread that Buck was lucky enough to be a part of. While he was resting, Buck’s dad, Bram, roped him into going out with Buck’s two brothers, Cole and Wyatt.
“One of the biggest tasks in winter is feeding because most of the grass and other plants that our cattle normally graze on are dormant, so we have to feed them daily,” he explained as D-Day bounced along in the big feed truck. “No small feat with four hundred cows, four hundred calves, and two hundred and fifty yearling heifers and bulls spread out over forty-five hundred acres.”
“How are we going to find them?”
Wyatt chuckled. “Ah, shoot, we won’t have to. Once they hear this ole truck, it’s like kids and ice cream.”
“We draw them to different areas as it spreads out the natural fertilizing of manure, which in turn maintains the health of the grass year-round,” Cole said, sounding so much like Buck with his drawl.
And Wyatt had been right on the money. The moment the truck reached one of the fields, hundreds of cattle plodded onward through the snow and started to congregate, and D-Day and Cole got into the bed to start throwing out bales. D-Day suspected it was a scene that was as much a part of the rolling country as were the great trees standing tall in the distance. They worked steadily in the just-below-freezing temperatures, his shoulders burning by the end of the chore.
Back at the house, he headed for the room he’d been assigned. It was apparently Helen’s old room, but she wasn’t expected back for the duration of their stay in Wyoming. He wanted to clean up before he sat down for dinner. After his shower, he didn’t bother to shave, leaving the stubble on his face. He was going to rough it for a bit. He exited the bathroom with just a towel, the window and the wide-open spaces calling him. The one thing about this place, it drove home how lonely it could be. Knowing his mood was heading into a dark, empty place, D-Day set his jaw as his old history piled on top of him.
An uneasy feeling turned into something sharper, and instantly his heart felt too big for his chest.
Suddenly the door opened, and a wry female voice sounded behind him. “Well, this is an added bonus. I didn’t expect to find a stud in my room.”
He whirled around and found a shapely and stunning package eyeing everything he had. He felt the heat of her gaze through his towel.
“Who are you?” he stammered. He clenched his jaw as his mouth went dry. He didn’t actually do well with women. He braced himself, but that didn’t stop the emotions piling up in his chest.
Fuck but she was gorgeous. Haphazard, chin-length honey-blonde curls, a set of sultry hazel eyes, and a ball-busting body generated a feverish heat and undeniable hunger he didn’t know how to deal with.
“Helen Buckard. This is my bedroom, and you?”
Dammit. Buck’s younger sister. He couldn’t lust after her, no way, no how. Some women were just off limits and teammate’s sisters were at the top of the list. He didn’t want to acknowledge the uneasy feeling churning in his belly or the fear that was fighting to surface. A long time ago, he had learned not to cross bridges, especially those that weren't his to cross. There was a lot of stuff that had gone under that bridge, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever put it all behind him. The secret he harbored had its roots a long time ago.
4
There was a knock on the door as Buck reached for his shirt on the bed, wincing as his side sent waves of pain across his torso, down into his waist. “Enter,” he said through clenched teeth as he took a moment to absorb the discomfort. He’d only managed to do a quick wash in the basin.
To his surprise, his sister Helen was the one who walked through the door. The greeting she was going to utter froze on her lips as she took in the injury to his side, how the skin from his armpit down to his waist was different hues of black and blue. It looked a little swollen.
“You should see the other guy,” he ground out.
She huffed out a small laugh and closed the door. “Considering the other guy was a helicopter, I’m sure it broke your fall.” She was much thinner than when he’d seen her last. There were dark circles under her wide hazel eyes, and there was a pinched look around her full mouth. But even in blue jeans, a light blue sweater, and cowboy boots, she still had that down-to-earth air about her. And the same inner warmth. Her job was demanding and stressful and he had to note that she was home unexpectedly. He wondered what happened.
“It looks worse than it feels,” he said, wincing again as he attempted to slide his arm into his shirt.
“Sure, it is,” she said wryly, no doubt armed with the medical knowledge she had at her disposal. “Let me take care of this. It will make you more comfortable, as I’m sure you waved off help from Mom so she wouldn’t see the damage.”
“You don’t know everything,” he growled.
Setting her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yes, I do. I know tough, alpha cowboys.” She put the shirt down and looked around. “Didn’t they supply you with an ace bandage?” Her tone sounded way too much like the nurses at the hospital, but then he had to acknowledge his sister was a registered nurse, and on top of that, she had been working all over the world doing the kinds of services that garnered respect and admiration. She’d organized mass vaccination initiatives for measles, triaged displaced people fleeing conflict, assisted in numerous operations, and she was fluent in French and Arabic. Her energy was always steady and limitless. It was amusing to see her in this role, as when she’d been young, her nickname had been hellion. His sister had been wild, probably still was given that she went to places that most people would fear to go.
