Tina Radcliffe

Falling For The Cowgirl


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he murmured.

      “I...” Tongue-tied and overwhelmed with awareness, AJ froze. Travis’s dark eyes were round with intense scrutiny. She didn’t look away.

      A woman working in a man’s world knew how to shut the door to a man’s assessing glance. Why did she find herself hesitant to close the door on this particular man? Heat warmed her face as she chastised herself.

      “I’ve got this,” Travis said.

      Her heart continued to trip wildly as she took the card he handed her, using care to avoid contact this time.

      “Ready?” he asked.

      AJ slid her boot into the stirrup and heaved up into the saddle. She followed Travis and Midnight through the stable yard and onto a well-worn path.

      A cool spring breeze stirred the air, bringing with it the scent of Oklahoma red clay, grass and a familiar fragrance.

      “Lilacs,” she murmured.

      “Yeah, Lucy and Emma planted dozens of them.” He stopped Midnight and gestured to the left. “Over there by the pond.”

      “Why so many?”

      “Our mother loved lilacs.”

      “You lost your mother? I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

      “We lost both of our parents. The three of us ended up in foster care. Lucy was ten, I was eight and Emma was five. That’s the reason we started the ranch.”

      “I wasn’t aware.”

      “They’ll give you a history lesson on Monday.” He urged Midnight ahead as if to indicate the topic was closed.

      AJ did her best to keep up with Travis’s more spirited animal. “The ranch is about five hundred acres?” she asked as she caught up.

      He nodded. “Yeah, most of that is grazing land.”

      “How many head?”

      “Fifteen. The goal is to triple that. We’re looking to be self-sustaining and hopefully take some product to market after they feed for a year. Grass-fed cattle are in demand right now.”

      “Do you live on the ranch?” she asked.

      “That depends on what’s going on. Nothing worse than getting home and having to turn around and come back to put out fires.” He looked at her and pushed his Stetson to the back of his head. “That’s where you come in.”

      “I’m here to make your life easier,” she said.

      “So they tell me.” Travis’s phone rang and he pulled it out. “Maxwell.” He released a sound of frustration as he listened and then slipped the cell into his shirt pocket. “I’ve got a missing ranch hand.”

      “Missing?”

      “Normally, this is Rusty’s day off, but he volunteered to lead an early morning trail ride. He’s a no-show.” With a disgusted shake of his head, Travis turned his horse around. “Putting out fires is getting mighty old.”

      “Let me put out the fires.” The words rushed from her lips before she could stop them.

      “Sounds like you think you can do that.”

      “Yes, sir. I can.”

      He narrowed his eyes.

      “I mean, Travis.”

      He paused as if considering her words. “All right, then, let’s go find Rusty.” His eyes met hers and he smiled.

      One smile and her pulse started a gallop that she fought to control.

      When Travis nudged Midnight into a canter and took off toward the stables, she sat in the saddle for a moment, staring at his retreating form.

      For the first time someone was giving her a chance to prove she could do the job. And it didn’t hurt that he was smiling at the time.

      AJ urged Ace forward, her spirit soaring as the wind whipped past. Travis Maxwell held her future in his hands. She’d have to be very careful he didn’t hold her heart, as well.

       Chapter Two

      Travis slammed through the bunkhouse and stood at the foot of Rusty’s bed. He jerked back slightly at the pungent odor that rose up to greet him. The place smelled like dirty socks and leftover pizza.

      The linens had been pulled and sat in a pile on the floor. There was nothing to indicate whether or not Rusty had slept there last night or why he hadn’t bothered to show up for work today.

      Dutch was gone for the weekend, so he’d get no help there. He pulled out his cell and once again punch-dialed Rusty’s number, with no results.

      “Way to make me look good in front of my new assistant foreman, pal,” Travis muttered. He pushed through the back door and got back in the Ute.

      “Do I smell funny?” he asked AJ.

      “Excuse me?”

      “That place looked and smelled worse than a locker room. Just want to make sure it didn’t follow me.”

      She leaned close and gave a wary sniff. When she did, the scent of chocolate tickled his nose.

      “You smell like chocolate.”

      AJ’s eyes widened and she scooted away from him. “I thought this was about you,” she said.

      “It is. That was just an observation.”

      “You’re fine,” AJ murmured.

      “Good.” He shoved the keys in the ignition, annoyed that his mouth had taken off before his good sense realized what he was doing.

      “Cocoa butter,” AJ murmured.

      Travis’s ears perked as he tried to catch her words. “What?”

      “It’s cocoa butter. You know. Cream.” Though she turned away, he glimpsed the pink of embarrassment that touched her face.

      “Ah, yeah. Right.” Travis put the Ute in gear while silently blaming Rusty for everything and anything, including the awkward exchange with his assistant foreman.

      “I take it he wasn’t there?” AJ asked.

      “No. Maybe we passed him. Let’s double back around and check the stables.”

      Travis did a visual sweep of the stalls as AJ followed. A light was on in the office of the equestrian center manager. Though Travis rapped his knuckles on the glass, Tripp was not fazed. He took his good old time lifting his gaze from the laptop in front of him to acknowledge Travis’s presence before waving him into the office.

      “Hey, Tripp, do you—”

      “Nope.” Tripp returned his attention back on the screen.

      “What do you mean ‘nope’? You don’t even know what the question is.”

      “Rusty.”

      Travis shook his head. “No pick-up from his cell. I’ve checked every hidey-hole on this ranch. If he’s not dead or near dead, he’s going to wish he was.”

      Tripp shook his head. “You shouldn’t have hired him.”

      “Talking to Lucy, huh?”

      “Saw that one coming all by myself.”

      “Great. By the way, this is the new assistant foreman.” He nodded in AJ’s direction. “AJ Rowe, meet Tripp Walker.”

      Tripp slowly unfolded his lanky frame and got to his feet. The man stood at least six-five and carried a scar down the left side of his face.

      “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Tripp