horses.”
McKinnon frowned and looked at Corey. “Did she take it?”
“No, she told him she would think about it.” Corey chuckled. “I think he kind of gave her the creeps.”
And with good reason, McKinnon thought. Everybody around those parts knew that even in his late forties, Cal Hooper, a local rancher, still considered himself a ladies’ man and had a reputation for playing fast and loose with women. If the rumors one heard were true, he was also the father of a number of illegitimate children around Bozeman. McKinnon’s gaze shifted to Casey once again. She was walking toward them and he could tell from the pout on her lush mouth that she wasn’t glad he was there. In fact, she looked downright annoyed.
“McKinnon,” she acknowledged when she reached them.
“Casey. That was a good show of horsemanship,” he said.
“Thank you.” Although she’d said the words he could tell from her expression that she couldn’t care less what he thought.
“I agree with McKinnon. You did a fantastic job out there, Casey.”
The smile she gave her father was genuine. “Thanks, Corey. Vicious Glance will be fine now. He just needed to know that someone else, namely whoever is riding him, is always in control.”
“Well, I need to talk to Jack about how we’ll be handling him from now on. Excuse me for a moment,” Corey said before walking off, leaving them alone.
A few brief moments after Corey left, McKinnon tilted his hat back and looked down at Casey. His eyes narrowed. Before offering her the job there was something he needed to get straight with her, here and now. “Don’t you ever set foot on Quinn land and pull a stunt like you did yesterday. You had no way of knowing what that blasted horse was going to do. You could have been killed.”
“But I’m very much alive, aren’t I?” she said snippily, deciding the last thing she needed was for this man to dictate what she could or could not do.” “You’re not my father, McKinnon.”
“Thank God for that.”
Casey drew in a deep, irritated breath. “I think we’ve said enough to each other, don’t you think?” She moved to walk away.
“Aren’t you curious as to why I’m here?” he asked.
She frowned up at him. “Not really. I assumed you came to see Corey.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I came to see you.”
She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “And why would you come to see me?”
“To offer you that job you were interested in yesterday.”
She glared at him. “That was yesterday. I have no desire to work for a male chauvinist tyrant.”
McKinnon frowned. “A male chauvinist tyrant?”
“Yes, that about describes you to a tee. Now if you will excuse me, I—”
“The pay is good and you’ll need to stay at the ranch, in the guesthouse.”
Casey threw her head back and squared her shoulders. “Don’t let me tell you where you can take the pay and guesthouse and shove it, McKinnon. Like I said, I’m no longer interested. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
He watched as she walked off, swaying her hips with each and every step she took. He couldn’t help but admire her spunk, but he refused to let her have the upper hand. “Casey?” he said, calling after her.
She stopped walking and slowly turned around. “What?”
“Think about my offer and let me know within a week.”
Her glare was priceless. “There’s nothing to think about, McKinnon. The last thing I want is to work for you.” She then turned back around and continued
walking.
Her words irritated the hell out of him because deep down he didn’t want her to come work for him, either. But dammit, he needed her…rather, he needed her skill with horses. And more than anything he had to remember there was a difference in the two.
Chapter 3
The nerve of the man, Casey thought as she slipped into the soapy water in the huge claw-foot bathtub. Why didn’t he understand English? How many times did she have to say she didn’t want to work for him to make herself clear?
She settled back against the tub and closed her eyes. The man was simply infuriating and like she’d told him, he would be the last person she worked for. She would consider going to work for Cal Hooper first, even though that man made her skin crawl each and every time he looked at her. At least she could defend herself against the likes of the Cal Hoopers out there, thanks to all those self-defense classes her brothers had made her take over the years.
But when it came to McKinnon Quinn she was as defenseless as a fish out of water. There was just something outright mind-blowingly hot about a tall man in a pair of tight jeans, especially when he had a nice-looking rear end. Add to that an honest-to-goodness handsome face and any woman in her right mind would be a goner. Holy cow, she was only human!
She eased down farther in the water, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could get the man out of her mind. He had made her madder than a pan of hot fish grease yesterday with his how-great-thou-art attitude. But today he’d shown up offering her the job that he’d told her he wouldn’t hire her for. Well, that was too friggin’ bad. Like she told him, he could take the job and shove it for all she cared.
Deciding to rid her mind of McKinnon Quinn once and for all, she opened her eyes and glanced around. The room Abby had given her to use was simply beautiful. With all the silk draperies, cream-colored walls and extensive decorating, it was obvious the decor of the room had had a woman’s touch, as had the rest of the house. Corey’s ranch at one time may have been a man’s domain, but now it was evident that a woman was in residence, and that woman was Abby.
Abby.
From the first time she found out about her, Casey had figured she wouldn’t like the woman who held her father’s heart to the point where he hadn’t been able to love another woman—not even her own mother who had loved Corey Westmoreland until her dying day. But all it took was a few moments around Corey and Abby to know just how in love they were and probably always had been, even through his fifty-something years as a bachelor, and Abby’s fifteen-year marriage to a man she didn’t love.
Casey smiled. She had to admit that she had grown fond of the very proper Bostonian her father had married, who happened to be the mother of Madison, her cousin Stone’s wife. Since finding out the truth about her father, Casey had come to realize that she’d had a slew of relatives—more Westmorelands, cousins from just about every walk of life—and they had been genuine in opening both their friendship and their hearts to her and her brothers.
She glanced at the clock. Abby would be serving dinner in half an hour and dinner time, Casey discovered, was a big ordeal for Abby since she had a way of making things somewhat formal. So instead of wearing jeans like she usually did, it was during the evening meal that she would put on a skirt and blouse or a dress.
She eased out of the tub to dry off and her thoughts shifted back to McKinnon. She hoped she’d seen the last of him for a while. Although she wouldn’t work for him, she was determined to work for somebody. She could only accept her father and Abby’s hospitality for so long. Although she knew they wanted her to stay there with them, Casey only planned to live here for so long. She needed and wanted her own place.
She smiled, thinking that in a way her father and Abby were still newlyweds—or at least they acted like they were. More than once she had almost walked up on them sharing a very heated kiss. A part of her was happy for what they shared, but then those times had been a blunt reminder of what she didn’t have in her own life.
Although