Winning The Cowboy's Heart

“Me,” she panted, the cords of her neck popping as she hauled on the wedged spare harder still.

“No one else?”

“Myself and I.” Her sarcastic tone called a smile to his lips. “Something wrong with that?”

Since he’d only ever dated Kelsey, he had limited experience with women. Kelsey preferred he accompany her everywhere, and his sister, Sierra, was never without at least a four-legged friend. Jewel’s dogged independence, her refusal to ask for help, to depend on someone, intrigued him and left him wondering. Did she have any friends? “No...it’s just... I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Jewel quit tugging to point out a twelve-gauge shotgun mounted on her pickup’s gun rack. “I can handle myself.”

No doubt, yet a desire to help kept Heath’s stubborn feet planted. So much for being a people pleaser. By staying, he angered Jewel, something he usually avoided. But Jewel tapped a stubborn streak he didn’t recognize. Stranger still, he was enjoying their test of wills. “Your mother wouldn’t want me to—”

“Look,” she cut him off, “just because our parents are hitched doesn’t mean you and I are brother and sister now. You’re still a Loveland, which makes you public enemy one.”

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Just trying to be neighborly.”

“If you want to be a good neighbor, stop suing my family for five million dollars.”

His jaw clamped. “You owe us. A Cade judge revoked our easement across your property without just cause.” Long ago, after the Cades jumped to the wrong conclusions and strung up Everett Loveland for the death of Maggie Cade and the disappearance of her priceless sapphire, the Cades sued to revoke an easement allowing Heath’s family access to the Crystal River to water their herd. With their consistent water source gone, Loveland Hills fell on shaky financial ground that only worsened through the years as summers became drier and drier.

“A lie.” When Jewel staggered backward again, he stepped ahead of her, yanked out the tire and rolled it to the flat.

“Hey!” she protested, but he ignored her, grabbed up a nearby long-handled wrench and fitted the squared-off crank over the tire’s bolts. Within minutes he’d whipped off the flat and heaved it over the top of her truck bed.

“Not bad for a Neanderthal,” Jewel drawled behind him.

“Neanderthal?” When he turned, she’d already fitted the spare into place and stretched a hand out for the wrench. He passed it over, impressed as she secured the new wheel faster than he’d removed the old.

“Yeah,” she grunted as she tightened the last bolt. “Primitive man.”

“I’m not primitive.”

She sat back on her haunches and eyed her tire change. “You practically clubbed me over the head to get the tire.”

“I’ve never raised a hand to a lady.”

Her gaze collided with his. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. And I’m no lady. Or some damsel in distress. Play your hero act with your fiancée.”

With that, she tossed the long wrench in her truck bed, hopped behind her wheel and started up her powerful engine. It throbbed, loud, in the night air. Before she left, she leaned out her window, her expression smug. “And you’re welcome.”

“For what?” Shouldn’t she be thanking him?

“For protecting your fragile male ego. See you in court!” She shifted into gear, then raced off, her tires kicking up gravel.

He coughed on exhaust fumes and dust as he stared after her disappearing taillights. Aggravating, cocky, exasperating woman. Yet the wide smile reflected in his rearview mirror when he started his pickup belied his irritation. He reversed from his spot and cruised onto the road.

Why was he so amped?

He had plenty to worry about. The make-or-break Lovelands versus Cades trial began in August and tomorrow, he’d tell his family, and Kelsey, about his Nashville tryout. Would they support him? He cranked a George Strait tune and lustily sang along, a sense of buoyancy nearly lifting him from his hard seat.

The audition of a lifetime awaited him, but he suspected one saucy redhead might, oddly, have something to do with his mood, too. He’d moved Jewel while performing, her reaction strengthening his resolve to chase his dream.

His foot stomped on the gas and cool air drove through his windows. Potent anticipation lifted goose bumps on his arms. He had the world tucked in his pocket. For the first time in forever, a career in music seemed within reach and Heath aimed to go for it, no matter the cost.

CHAPTER TWO

JEWEL TORE OFF her hat and swiped her damp brow. Overhead, the midafternoon sun beat down, unrelenting in a cloudless blue sky. She peered at the calves she and her brothers had isolated from the herd this morning. Panicked bleats filled the dry air and mingled with their mothers’ answering bellows. They hadn’t been separated since calving season three months ago. The sooner she got them through the pen system she’d designed to lessen their stress, the better.

“Next!” she hollered to her brother Justin. With a clang, he opened the metal latch and released the next calf from the holding pen. It raced forward, encountered a secured gate, and jerked to a stop in the extended neck chute she’d convinced her brother and ranch manager, James, to purchase. The calf tossed its head and rolled its eyes. Air huffed through its flaring nostrils.

“Easy, girl.” Jewel stroked the little one’s soft gray side. The scent of disinfectant soap stung her nostrils. Earlier, her brother Jared and nephew Javi had cleaned the calves to prevent infection. “Easy now.”

The calf settled as Jewel grabbed a syringe of Bovi-Shield while murmuring steadily, her tone soothing. She talked plenty tough to her rough-and-tumble older brothers, but when it came to animals, she took extra care to be gentle.

“Now you won’t get a respiratory infection,” she crooned, pinching the skin on the calf’s neck and pulling it away from the muscle to tent it. She slipped the eighteen-gauge needle into the subcutaneous space to prevent skin lesions.

“See. Not so bad.” She stroked the calf’s quivering neck after pushing in the vaccine, then hustled to its other side. “Now this booster will keep you from getting blackleg.” She delivered the second neck injection. “You’re doing great.”

The calf snorted but otherwise remained still in the narrow chute, absorbing Jewel’s voice, her calm as she circled back to the spot where she injected the third vaccine.

A large Brahman bellowed beyond the fence. Jewel compared the cow’s and the calf’s ear tags, noting their matching numbers.

“Almost done, Mama,” she called to the pacing cow.

“Hold up a minute, Jewel.” Her brother James sprayed the calf’s shaved hindquarter with 99 percent alcohol for adhesion, pulled a poker with a brass number three from the cooler and pressed its cold tip to the area, freeze-branding it.

The calf twitched for a few seconds as Jewel continued petting it, then calmed as the temperature numbed its skin. A couple of years ago, they’d switched to freeze-branding after Jewel attended a cattle conference. It was more time-consuming than regular branding and took practice, but it reduced the calves’ stress.

“Ready?” Jewel called once James grabbed the second poker.

“Go ahead.” James pressed the number five into the now-docile calf’s hip. Over the years, she and her brothers developed routines so ingrained they barely had to talk while performing them.

She tented the loose skin underneath the calf’s shoulder and delivered the last vaccine. “There you go, Sunrise, no BVD for you,” she murmured, low, so James didn’t overhear her ritual of secretly naming the calves. No matter how long they had on this earth, every living thing deserved a name, to have an identity, to be someone, although it made sending them off to the fall beef auctions even harder.

She grimaced. Jewel Cade, sentimental...no one would believe it. All her life, she’d acted tough, chasing after her father’s affection by trying to prove she was as good as his favored sons. That she could ride, shoot and brawl with the best of them. Yet he rarely paid her much mind except to complain she needed to wear dresses to Sunday services.

When he’d passed away, she doubled down on proving herself in the male-dominated ranching world, even if she ruffled a few feathers and agitated the status quo to do it. Her thick skin hid her sensitive side, a weakness counter to her goal to be Cade Ranch’s range boss. She wanted to oversee cattle herding and husbandry, calling the shots the way she preferred, a job where she wouldn’t be overruled or overlooked. James had yet to delegate the position, and she intended to convince him this summer to choose her over her brother Justin.

As for the Sunday dresses, she’d worn one to her father’s funeral, hoping he’d see her from above in a way he’d never noticed her on earth.

Jewel ignored the painful throb of her heart and cranked down the release lever. Sunrise rushed headlong from the chute. The calf slowed when she spied the barn wall, swerved, then trotted into the final pen where the vaccinated animals awaited Jewel’s final checkup.

“Good move in facing the exit to the barn.” James added more alcohol solution to the cooler holding the pokers.

Jewel pressed her lips flat to hide her pleasure at James’s rare praise. He needed to see her as a capable professional, not a little sister chasing her big brother’s approval. “I didn’t want them running for the gate and getting injured like last year. It’s all part of the herd health, value-added market report I gave you last month.”

James grunted, but otherwise didn’t answer as he checked the cooler’s temperature. For optimal freeze-branding, it had to be at minus 200 degrees.

Jewel hid her disappointment and grabbed her records book. Her stubby pencil flew as she jotted down the vaccines’ lot numbers, treatment date and withdrawal period, her name as the one who administered them, and the vaccination method used.

James retrieved a couple of iced teas from another cooler. When she set down her log book, he tossed her one. “The neck extender chute’s working out better, too. No bent needles or trapped fingers.”

Jewel sipped her tea, then pressed the cool plastic mini jug against her steaming cheeks. Even her freckles would be burned tomorrow. “That’s why you need to make me range boss.”

“Now’s not the time for that discussion.”

“Then when is the time?” she demanded.

Instead of answering, James gulped his drink. When he finished, he mopped his face with a red kerchief. “How come we’re not putting on nose flaps?” he asked, referring to the device used to wean calves.

She blew out a frustrated breath at his change of subject. Fine...she’d give him a little more rope, but not enough so he slipped away without giving her answers. “Weaning them after branding is stressful.”

“Corralling them again is more work for us,” he grumbled. “We should go back to separating them from their mothers.”

Jewel bristled. “The most stressful part of weaning is losing social interaction. The calves were calmer when we started using nose flaps a couple of years ago.”

James doffed his wide-brimmed rancher’s hat, scooped some ice from the cooler and dumped it over his head. “Should never have sent you to that conference. It gave you too many ideas.”

“Nothing wrong with new ideas,” she charged. “The herd health program’s been worth about three to six dollars per hundredweight over the past eighteen months. We’ve had less morbidity and behavioral stress—something you’d know if you bothered reading my report.”

“I’ll get to it. Next!” James called to Justin, and another calf barreled into the chute.

Jewel bit her lip and got back to work, ignoring the sting of being dismissed again. She had to convince James and wouldn’t quit until she did.

“How come you look so tired?” James pressed one of the frozen pokers into the calf’s side once it settled in the chute.

Jewel injected the blackleg booster. “Got in late.” Her cheeks heated as she recalled tall, gorgeous, commanding Heath Loveland performing “Folsom Prison Blues.” When he sang, his powerful voice carried her with him. It drummed inside her, beating her heart, stirring her blood. It was like he was made of music.

She concentrated on the calf’s next shot.

“What were you doing?” James exchanged the first poker for the second.

“Went out.” She gently pulled the needle from the calf’s skin. “Good job, MooShu,” she murmured near its ear.

“Where?”

“Silver Spurs.” She kept her voice even around the skittish animal, despite her rising irritation at nosy James. He had to know every detail about the ranch and those who lived on it.

“Wasn’t Heath Loveland’s band playing last night?”

Jewel’s hackles rose at the knowing sound in James’s voice. “I guess so.”

James narrowed his eyes at her. “Interesting...”

“What do you mean?” Her brothers loved tweaking her about her supposed crush on Heath Loveland, coming up with all kinds of crazy theories about her carrying a torch for him...when everyone knew she loved only three things in life: her enormous stallion, Bear; physically demanding ranch work; and her family.

James stowed the last poker in the cooler. “I don’t mean anything. Much.”

“I don’t like Heath Loveland.” She released the latch and the last calf of the day sprang away.

A groan built in the back of her throat. Last night, Heath saw her as weak, in need of help. Why hadn’t she pushed back as hard as she would have battled her brothers?

Because you don’t look at him like a brother...

Her old mixed-up feelings returned for the boy who’d once witnessed her most shameful moment. When her father had ignored her 4-H booth’s blue-ribbon win, she’d cried. Heath, who’d had a display beside hers, had shielded her, preventing others from knowing she’d been hurt. She clenched her back teeth. Why was he always around when she was at her most vulnerable?

Even if she might—might—have had any kind of softness for Heath, he was taken, about to walk down the aisle soon, rumor had it. She’d never be interested in a guy involved with someone else. And even if he were free, she had no use for a boyfriend and never intended on marrying, would never sacrifice her independence to a man no matter how kind and sensitive he seemed. What she wanted most was respect, something she’d have if she became range boss. It’d prove, once and for all, she was worthy—just as good as or better than her cowboy brothers.

James began packing up the branding equipment and his silence on her supposed feelings for Heath nettled her. She blocked his way into the nearby barn. “I don’t like Heath.”

James shrugged. “It’s your life. I’m not judging. Although, keep your distance until after the trial.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know how those Lovelands are.” He stepped around her and disappeared in the cool dim of their stable.

She gathered her vaccination equipment and followed. “How are they?”

“They know how to sweet-talk a lady.”

Her lungs expanded at the sweet aroma of freshly strewn hay. Bear, along with the other horses, picked up his head. He nickered a greeting. “I’m no—”

“You’re still a woman. Heath’s broken almost as many hearts in this county as Jared,” James said, referring to their lady-killer brother who’d given up professional football to manage his legally blind wife’s barrel-racing career.

Jewel dumped the syringes in a bucket full of sterilizing fluid. “He’s taken.”

James shrugged as he stowed the coolers inside the barn’s cabinet. “Like all Lovelands, he can charm the birds from the trees, as Grandma would have said.”

“Example?” Jewel challenged.

James opened his mouth, then shut it.

“Exactly. We can’t blame the Lovelands for causing our feud anymore. Clyde Farthington killed Maggie Cade for her brooch and his jealousy over her secret love affair with Everett Loveland. Our ancestors jumped to the wrong conclusions when they found Everett beside Maggie’s body and hanged him without giving him a trial.”

“Cora’s Tear was still found on their land,” James insisted, referring to the priceless fifty-carat sapphire their ancestor had mined from the Yugo Gulch along with enough silver to buy their land and establish their ranch.

“Because Maggie hid it at her and Everett’s meeting spot so Clyde wouldn’t get his greedy hands on it, remember?” Jewel pulled off her gloves and washed her hands in a small stainless sink. “Besides, after Cole and Katlynn found Cora’s Tear, they returned it to Ma.”

“Fine,” James grumbled. “But what about Boyd and Ma?”

Jewel recoiled, drying her hands on a stiff brown paper towel. “You think Boyd only wants Ma for her money? That she has nothing else to offer? You married Sofia, and she had nothing.”

James took Jewel’s place at the sink. “That’s different.”

“Yeah, because at least Ma and Boyd were childhood sweethearts until her parents broke them up.” Jewel lobbed the balled-up towel into a large plastic trash barrel.

“And who’s going to pay for their monthlong honeymoon to Europe?” Without waiting for an answer, James forged on, soaping up his hands. “Ma.”

“What if she is paying?” Jewel leaned over to scratch a barn cat’s ears and imagined her mother at Loveland Hills, packing, laughing and talking with her new husband about how excited she was to be taking this trip tomorrow, the one she had dreamed about for a lifetime. “A woman can spend her money how she pleases.” Though why waste it on a honeymoon? Jewel would never be as happy as her mother was being married; she just wasn’t the girlie-wife type, as her father put it.

“I’m just saying.” James paused to grab a paper towel. “Going to watch Heath Loveland perform is one thing. Just don’t get romantically entangled like Ma. He’ll try to persuade you to change your mind about the easement, convince you not to fight their court case when it was a fair judgment.” James tossed away the paper towel and peered down at her. At six feet two inches, he had her by over a foot. “We’re fighting this lawsuit, no matter how Ma feels. This is Cade land. Defend it.

“Heath is nothing to me.” Though no denying, the deep blue of his eyes had rattled her last night. “And I’ve always defended our family and this ranch, which is why it’s time you made me range boss.”

“When I feel one of you has proven yourself, I’ll make the call.” James cranked the barn fans’ lever. They blew with a loud, buzzing roar. “Until then—”

“You’ll continue being a control freak who should delegate tasks to spend more time with your growing family?” Jewel’s balled hands landed on her hips.

James stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, smiling. “Now you sound like Sofia.”

She snorted. “Another woman you need to listen to more.”

James laughed. “You do beat all.”

“Just as long as I beat Justin.” Jewel crossed to pet her stallion’s broad black nose. “It’s still between us, right?”

James nodded.

“He’s already got extra work teaching ranching skills at Fresh Start,” Jewel said, mentioning the rehab facility run by Justin’s fiancée, former army chaplain Brielle Thompson. “But Cade Ranch...” She pointed at the rolling slopes leading up to Mount Sopris’s peak. “It’s all I have.”

James squinted at her. “Maybe that’s not a good thing.”

“I’m not cut out for marriage or a family like the rest of you.” Jewel buried her head in Bear’s warm, velvety neck.

“How do you know?”

She closed her eyes, shutting out the rising memories of her father’s criticism and dismissal. She didn’t measure up to what women...wives...mothers were supposed to be. “Promise you’ll decide who’s range boss by summer’s end.”

James considered her, then nodded slowly. “I can live with that.”

She blew out a relieved breath, pressed a quick kiss on Bear’s nose and headed for the calves. A sense of contentment stole through her as she assessed the injection and branding sites for irritation. This was her world...and for her, there was nothing else.

Now she only had to convince James by the end of the summer, and she’d have everything she ever wanted.

* * *

“GOOD EVENING, CARBONDALE. Temperatures today peaked at ninety-eight degrees with humidity at twelve percent. Severe drought conditions continue to expand across Colorado, and that means an elevated fire danger just about statewide,” announced a local weatherman.

Heath dropped the ice cream scooper in the carton to crank up the radio’s volume.

“A T-shaped swath of northern and central Colorado is listed as abnormally dry with record-breaking temperatures continuing into next week.”

Heath swore under his breath and his sister, Sierra, groaned. She finger-combed her long blond hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band. “We’ll be lucky if we get through this summer without a major forest fire.” As a wildlife veterinarian, weather extremes were her greatest fear.

“And without losing any cattle.” Heath plopped vanilla ice cream into a bowl and passed it to his adopted brother, Daryl, who drizzled fudge topping on it.

“We’ve got to keep the herd intact.” Daryl’s light blue eyes gleamed beneath black brows.

“How come, Pa?” Daryl’s eight-year-old daughter, Emma, twirled on the ranch house’s bare wood floor in stocking feet.

“Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’.” Daryl ruffled Emma’s fine blond hair. He, Sierra and Heath exchanged silent, anxious glances. Any cattle loss put them closer to foreclosure. “Want sprinkles?”

Emma jumped. “Yes! Can I have a lot?”

“You got it, honey.” Sierra held up two containers. “Chocolate or rainbow?”

“Rainbow.” Emma pointed to the colorful bow around the bun she’d worn to dance class. “I want to match like Grandma Joy.”

“Can I have chocolate?” Daryl’s six-year-old son, Noah, scooted onto Sierra’s lap. His thick black hair, exactly like his father’s, swished across his round face. “And rainbow?”

“Anything you want,” Sierra vowed.

“Don’t spoil him,” Daryl warned, all while pouring on heaps of fudge. The hypocrite.

“These are my only nieces and nephews so I’m spoiling them rotten.” Noah giggled when Sierra tickled his side. “Maybe Heath and Kelsey will have babies soon, so I’ll have more to spoil...”

An expectant silence fell as Heath wordlessly passed over another bowl. He still hadn’t told Kelsey, or his family, about his Nashville tryout. When Pa and Cole finally got in from their fence inspection, he’d quit stalling and share his plans to drive to Tennessee next week. His stomach twisted. Would they be happy for him? Would Kelsey? Anticipation kept him up last night, imagining a future he’d never dared dream before, along with his fiery exchange with a certain redheaded cowgirl.

An ungrateful cowgirl.

“Can I be your flower girl when you get married this year, Uncle Heath? Huh? Can I?” Emma asked around a mouthful of ice cream.

Heath swallowed hard as he met Emma’s expectant blue eyes. “If I do, you’re the only flower girl I’d want.”

“If?” Emma angled her face up to her father. “I thought Mama said you were setting a date or something...”

“Hush now and eat your dessert,” Daryl urged, his tone gentle but firm.

“Is Mama coming?” Noah asked, his lips rimmed in sprinkles and chocolate.

A shadow darkened Daryl’s eyes. “No. She’s got another headache.”

“She always says that.” Emma dropped her cheek into her palm and sighed. “And she never wants to do anything except type on the computer. How come you don’t sleep at home anymore, Pa?”

Daryl’s face flushed, and concern for his brother spiked inside Heath. Daryl and LeAnne’s nine-year marriage had problems from the start. Lately, Heath woke to find Daryl sleeping on the ranch’s sofa rather than in his family’s cabin. They hadn’t spoken about it since Daryl, like all Lovelands, valued his privacy, but his suffering was clear.