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After showing her what to do, he stood back to watch as she slid the pitchfork in and lifted a pile of soiled hay. He flashed a grin at her wrinkled-up nose. “You said you wanted a real ranch experience. Not gonna get much more authentic than that.”
Kaylee held back a groan as she hung up her pitchfork a few hours later. She’d asked to be put to work, and Luke had obliged her request. Now her back hurt, and so did her legsandher arms, and pretty much every other muscle she had. But she didn’t want Luke to see her struggling.
She plastered on a smile as the cowboy came up behind her. “Anything else I can do to help?” she asked, hoping he would say no.
He narrowed his eyes as he studied her then shook his head. “I think you’ve put in a good day’s work already.”
“Thank goodness,” she muttered, trying not to sag against the barn wall in relief. If her pinched toes and feet were killing her before, they were downright murderous now. She was pretty sure her left one had gone numb. Thoughts of Sassy crept into her mind. Her feisty heroine wouldn’t let a little struggle like sore feet get her down. She straightened and pulled her shoulders back. “I mean, thankyou.”
He tilted his head. “What in the world are you thanking me for?” His gaze traveled over her rumpled clothes and dirt-smudged arms. “Between the back-breaking work of cleaning the stalls and then spilling that water trough and falling in the mucky mud, I figured you’d be cussing my name. I sure wasn’t figuring to get an offering of gratitude.”
“Oh, but Iamgrateful. Really. This is exactly the kind of stuff I want to learn. I won’t ever mention a pitchfork or a horse’s stall in one of my books again without remembering the feel of sore muscles or blistered hands.” She swiped at the still damp traces of mud drying along the leg of her jeans. “Or the smell of old trough water.”
Luke chuckled good-naturedly. “That might be one you’d be inclined to forget.”
“There is nothing about this day I’ll ever forget.”
A curious look crossed Luke’s face before he waved a hand toward the barn door. “Why don’t you go on up to the house and get cleaned up. I’ll be along in a few minutes to start working on supper.”
“Sounds good,” she said, taking a step forward, then tightening her face as she tried not to wince at the pain in her feet. She pressed a hand against the work bench to steady herself. “You go on back to whatever you were doing. I’ll just wait for Gladys then head out.” She called to the dog, hoping Luke would leave the barn and not have to witness her painful journey back to the house.
Of course the dog came bounding toward her, the ecstatic corgi ferociously wagging her tail. Gladys wiggled with joy at her feet then raced out of the barn, stopping at the door to look back to make sure Kaylee was following.
Thankfully, Luke had moved farther into the barn and had his back to her now as he hauled a bale of hay toward the stalls.
Forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, she did her best to hide the pain as she half-walked, half-limped back to the house. The last few steps to her bed were torture, and she face-planted into her pillow as she collapsed on the mattress.
She could have fallen asleep and slept for hours but the throbbing of her feet had her rolling over and sitting up to reach for one of the agonizing boots. Grabbing the heel, she flinched in pain as she yanked and pulled at one then the other, but to no avail. The boots were stuck.
She was going to be forced to wear them for the rest of her life.
“Come on,” she pleaded with the boots. “Release me, you evil beasts.” She leaned forward, trying a different angle, but couldn’t keep her balance and toppled off the bed, sprawling on the floor in a puddle of anguish and exhaustion.
She let out a whimper that had Gladys racing to her side to lovingly cover her cheeks in doggy kisses. Kaylee didn’t even have enough energy to stop her.
Luke had to give it to her, he thought as he walked into the farmhouse a few minutes later. The woman had stuck with it much longer than he’d imagined she would. They’d worked together for several hours, and Kaylee stayed at his side, doing her share of the dirty work. She wasn’t as fast or as strong as he was, of course, but she was steady and consistent and did the work in an orderly and organized manner. And for the most part, kept a smile on her face. Even when he’d thrown her a curve ball and told her they also needed to scrub out the troughs and the water buckets in the stalls.
She’d said she wanted to know what normal ranch activities were. Most jobs, especially ones involving animals, were hard and messy. If she wanted to know what that was really like, he was going to show her.
He figured it wouldn’t take much to convince her to pack up her SUV and drive back to the city, but she’d been a real trooper, even when he’d put her through the paces. When she’d spilled the trough water into her lap and fell into the mucky water, he’d felt so bad for her, he’d almost let her out of the job. But she’d been so insistent on doing some genuine ranch work.
He couldn’t believe it when she actuallythankedhim for letting her help before calling her dog and heading out of the barn. She’d kept up a brave front, but he caught sight of her limping across the driveway and up the porch steps when he’d walked by the barn door a few minutes later.
He hung up his hat and went into the kitchen to wash his hands. He’d been annoyed when his sister had called him to tell him she was sending one of her writers out to the ranch for a week.A week. Seven whole days of having to put up with a total stranger, and a famous one at that. He’d argued but eventually given in, knowing he owed Faye, and he would do just about anything for his big sister. But he didn’t have to like it. And he didn’t have to make it pleasant.
He’d devised a strategy that if he didn’t go out of his way to make the experience too pleasant, maybe the writer would decide on her own to cut her stay short. Hence the supper menu he’d planned of beanies and weenies. He’d also purchased some corned beef hash for the next night—only the hardiest could stomach his hash—and intended to offer her cold cereal for breakfast and cold bologna sandwiches for lunch.
Opening the cupboard to get down a can of beans, he paused as he heard what sounded like a groan coming from down the hall. He imagined Kaylee was probably sore from the back-breaking work she’d done.
Another sound, this one more of frustrated cry had him taking a step forward and cocking his head to listen. “You all right back there?” he hollered down the hallway.
A stifled whimper followed by a big thud and a sharp yip from the dog had him setting down the can of beans and heading toward her room. He was halfway there when he heard her strangled cry of “Help!”
