Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den

“You aren’t being fair,” Jessica said to herself.

Mother Goose honked as if in agreement, then fluttered into the pond to take an evening swim.

While water trickled through the V Jessica dug in the dam, she carted rocks up the steep incline to insure future rains didn’t erode her waterway and empty her pond. Smiling, Jessica watched the pair of coyotes and their pups, the red foxes and a trio of horses drink from the pond. It was gratifying to see that the animals had learned to coexist in this sanctuary.

So why couldn’t she get along with Devlin Callahan?

Recalling the sheriff’s request to resolve her differences with Devlin, Jessica vowed to make an effort to be civil.

While she made her rounds to feed the exotics housed in covered pens and cages, she reminded herself that she needed to mow and clean up around the sanctuary this weekend. The local grade school students would be arriving for their field trip. Since Jessica’s sanctuary was listed on the association’s register, she had received several calls to schedule field trips. The money would help to defray costs for more pens and feed. Her exotic family would continue to grow as long as she had space.

Weary from digging the trench in the parched earth, Jessica trudged to the house to bathe. Partially revived, she opened the freezer to select a microwave dinner.

She had considered swinging by the new restaurant at the end of Main Street to pick up a carry-out meal, but she had been late getting away from the office, and she had to feed her animals before dark.

Ah well, Jessica didn’t consider herself Suzie Homemaker, and she wasn’t one of those people who lived to eat; she simply ate to live. But every once in a while she craved a thick, juicy steak, home-cooked vegetables and dessert. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook, it was just that she didn’t have much time, what with getting her business off the ground, tending the exotics and doing minor refurbishing projects inside the house.

A faint smile twitched her lips as she recalled her shaky start in life, her difficult teens and her struggle to acquire a college education. The kid no one wanted—least of all her irresponsible, pleasure-seeking parents—had made something of herself. In fact, she could be living off the interest on the money she made when she sold the hot property in Tulsa. But Jessica didn’t want to be a recluse on her sanctuary. She secretly longed to fit in, to feel a connection, to be accepted and respected in Buzzard’s Grove.

So far so good—except for her feud with Devlin Callahan. He was the thorn in her paw, and Sheriff Osborn had all but ordered her to make nice to that hot-tempered rancher.

Okay, fine, she would apologize for biting off Devlin’s head and insulting him. She could be nice to the man if she really tried. She could also move the big cats’ and bears’ cages farther west to the clump of cottonwood trees, so the overhanging limbs would trap the sounds. Yeah, she could do that this weekend, if she put in double days. The pens were built on skids so she could hook a chain to her car bumper and pull them to different locations.

Jessica sighed drowsily as she lay sprawled on the sofa. Man, it had been a long week, and it wasn’t over yet. She could use some shut-eye so she would have the energy to tackle the list of weekend chores.

She nodded off, only to bolt straight up on the sofa when blaring country music rattled the window-panes. Garth Brooks was singing “Ain’t Goin’ Down Till the Sun Comes Up,” and the coyotes and wolves were howling to beat the band.

“What in blue blazes?” Jessica staggered to her feet and wobbled unsteadily to the window. Darkness had settled over the rolling Oklahoma hills. She could barely make out the glow of miniature red lights just beyond the barbed wire fence that separated her property from Rocking C Ranch.

It only took a moment to realize Devlin had rigged up his stereo system to counter the sounds of her exotic animals. Swearing, Jessica made a beeline for the back door to determine how her animals were reacting to the earsplitting music. Sure enough, the animals were pacing in their cages. Toucans and cockatoos were flinging themselves against the wire pens in an attempt to escape. The horses were thundering across the pasture to seek refuge in the trees.

Muttering, Jessica snatched up the phone book, then quickly dialed the number for Rocking C Ranch. Impatiently, she waited for Devil Devlin to answer.

“Hello,” came a thick, velvety voice that oozed sensuality. Jessica refused to be affected by that seductive voice, because she knew what a jackass the man was.

“Devlin Callahan, I—”

“Hold on a sec.”

A moment later the same voice was back, but Jessica ignored the unwilling tingle that slid through her body. She was mad as a wet hen and she wasn’t about to let this man bedevil her with his sexy bedroom voice. Plus, there was no telling who was in the bedroom with him when she interrupted and was forced to wait for him to finish whatever it was he was doing.

“Callahan, this is Porter,” she snapped. “Get your fanny over here and pull the plug on the blaring music. Now!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he drawled, “but I’m just too tired to get out of bed. I was up at the crack of dawn rounding up cattle.”

“Tough,” she spluttered angrily. “Your loud music is terrifying my animals!”

“Now they know how my cattle and sheep feel,” he said unsympathetically.

“Look, Callahan, I’ll have you know I spent the evening digging a trench so your cattle would have water. Now I’m exhausted and I need sleep.”

“Thanks, that’s mighty neighborly of you, Porter. Wish you’d done that a couple of months ago so I didn’t have to haul water to my thirsty livestock.”

“I would have if you had said something,” she replied. “I wasn’t aware that I was causing a problem.”

“Gee, and I suppose it also escaped your notice that your zoo has been terrifying my livestock, that the cattle you saw grazing the ditches on your way to work this morning were supposed to be in the pasture. Do you know what happens when a motorist slams into a cow, Blondie? Not only does said cow wind up in the deep freeze, but I lose the cow, and her calf dies of starvation. Then I have to shell out money to replenish my herd, not to mention the potential threat of a lawsuit over personal injury.”

“Well, I—” Jessica couldn’t get another word in edgewise, because Devlin was still running off at the mouth.

“But I suppose you’re so wrapped up in yourself and your wildlife preservation crusade that you never stopped to think how it affects your nearest neighbor. Did you think of that? Hmm? No? I didn’t think so.

“As for the honky-tonk music, Porter, my cattle like it dandy fine. It drowns out the racket at your place. If some of your exotics break loose and run scared, be sure to call me. I’ll bring my stun gun and zap them for you.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past you to use live ammo. You’re a world-class jerk, Callahan, know that? And here I had convinced myself that I had been too hard on you. I even planned to take pity—”

“Hey, lady, the last thing I want from you is pity,” he said huffily.

“Take what you can get.”

“If I could get you to pack up and leave I’d be the happiest man on the face of the planet. This was a peaceful place to work and live until you and your jungle animals showed up.”

“That’s it, Callahan! Now you’ve really infuriated me!” Jessica exploded in bad temper.

“So, what are you gonna do about it, sugar? Come over here and beat the tar out of me?” he goaded her unmercifully.

“No, I’m calling the sheriff, and he can fine you for disturbing the peace!” she yelled at him.

“The sheriff refuses to get involved. I know because I asked him to fine you for disturbing my peace. We’ll have to work this out by ourselves. But not to worry, Blondie. Give the country music a week, and I’m sure you and your exotics will be as fond of it as my cattle and sheep are.”

Before Jessica could give him an earful of her frustration he hung up on her. She stared at the receiver in outrage. She hated for that devilish cowboy to have the last word. But she supposed he thought it was fitting, since she had shut the door in his face the previous night.

Jessica slammed down the phone, stormed upstairs to her bedroom, undressed, then buried herself beneath the quilts and clamped pillows over her ears. It didn’t help. She could hear Allan Jackson belting out the words to “Don’t Rock the Jukebox.” The drumbeat thumped the windowpanes until Jessica was ready to scream in frustration.

“Damn the man!” she shouted to the world at large.

“YOU DID WHAT?” Derrick hooted in disbelief.

“You heard me,” Devlin said over his breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. “I hooked up the stereo and drowned out the uproar caused by those exotic animals.”

Derrick tossed him a withering glance. “This is your idea of a compromise?”

“I didn’t get anywhere with the sheriff,” Devlin grumbled. “Porter charmed him to such extremes that Reed thinks she’s God’s gift to humanity. But Reed did convince Porter to cut her pond dam so we don’t have to haul water. She dug the trench last night.”

“So, to repay her, you hooked up a boom box and blew out her eardrums.”

Devlin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, how was I to know she was going to dig the trench until after the fact?”

Derrick slammed his fist on the table. Silverware and bowls bounced like Mexican jumping beans. “This is juvenile, Dev. You’re going to turn this into a grudge contest if you aren’t careful. I insist that you go over there tonight and do your damnedest to make amends. If Jessica is as community-minded and financially generous as the sheriff says, then you’re the one who is going to come off looking like a jerk…which reflects on me, because folks might think I’m a party to this nonsense, which I’m sure as hell not.”

Devlin glowered at his identical twin. “Are you going to sit here and tell me that you don’t mind chasing down cattle every other day?”

“Of course not, but I’ll fix fences if that’s what it takes to keep peace. I prefer to focus my free time on Cassie Dixon. She, being a woman and all, is sure to side with Jessica in this feud.” Derrick stared placatingly at his brother. “Please, Dev, bury the hatchet. Ask the woman out and get to know her before you pass judgment. Find out why she is caught up in this crusade, make her understand that the cattle and sheep are our livelihood and that ranchers are facing tough times. Try to become the great guy you were before Sandi Saxon screwed you over for that high-rolling lawyer and moved to Oklahoma City. Stop being so cautious and defensive when it comes to women.”

Having said his piece, Derrick rose to set his bowl and glass in the sink. “I’m going to change the oil and replace the hydraulic hoses on both tractors this morning while you clean out the drills and auger seed wheat into the trucks.” Derrick glanced out the window. “There are a few clouds piling up on the horizon, so maybe we’ll finally get some rain before we plant wheat.”

“It’d be nice if something went right,” Devlin muttered.

“Oh, before I forget, I won’t be here to cook supper tonight. Cassie invited me to her restaurant to eat with her. You’re on your own, bro.”

When Derrick strode off, Devlin hunched over the table, mulling over his brother’s criticism of the neighbor situation. Truth be known, Devlin enjoyed sparring with his feisty neighbor. She was quickwitted and sassy, and she amused him in a frustrated sort of way. Furthermore, he kind of liked the fact that she stood up to him.

As for setting up the boom box, it had seemed the perfect solution to muffle the unnerving noises. The tactic had made Jessica realize what Devlin and his cattle herd had been tolerating. But as it turned out, Porter had worn herself out trenching her pond dam—to be neighborly—and Devlin had kept her up most of the night with loud music. Damn, everything he tried to do in his dealings with Jessica kept backfiring on him.

Okay, so maybe it was time to try a different tack, bury the hatchet somewhere besides in Porter’s back. Devlin could do nice and gentlemanly if the mood suited him. And okay, so he did have a tendency to project Sandi Saxon’s failings on other women after she’d trampled his male pride into the ground. The experience had disillusioned and soured him on women, and he remained on guard to prevent getting hurt again.

One thing about playing nice with Jessica Porter, though, it would just be an act, a performance to form a truce. He already knew what Jessica was like when the thermometer attached to her temper shot through the roof. The woman was prickly, defensive and high-strung, which made it tough for Devlin, who was a little prickly, defensive and high-strung himself.

Well, he would consider this a test of his temper, patience and disposition, he told himself. This was a challenge. If he could deal with the dragon lady and get her to eat out of his hand, then he should be able to handle any woman.

Derrick was right, he mused. Devlin had allowed his disillusionment with Sandi to destroy potential relationships. But past was past. Sandi was a closed chapter in his life.

Resolved to negotiating a truce, Devlin crammed his bowl and glass in the dishwasher, then strode outside to tackle the chores that awaited him. After supper he’d get spruced up and drive over to the dragon…er, Miz Porter’s place. He’d dust off the manners he hadn’t used in a few years and do a little damage control.

The woman wouldn’t stand a chance when he turned on the charm, he tried to convince himself. He’d be so suave, debonair, gallant and courteous that the dragon…er, Miz Porter would forget why she was upset with him.

3

JESSICA WAS SO TIRED by the time she returned home from work that she had trouble putting one foot in front of the other. Thanks to Devil Devlin’s prank that caused sleep deprivation she had dozed off at her office and awakened to find a debit and expenditure form stuck to her face. If her secretary hadn’t volunteered to stay late to type up the tax sheets and drop them in the mail, Jessica couldn’t have gotten the federal forms and payroll checks completed on time. Teresa, devoted employee that she was, shooed Jessica from the office, insisting that she go home and get some rest.

That was precisely what Jessica planned to do—after tending her animals and mowing a few rounds on the riding mower. One glance at the ominous sky indicated a soggy weekend ahead. The TV meteorologists were forecasting a break in the drought that would undoubtedly test the strength of the trench Jessica dug in her pond dam.

Halfheartedly, Jessica made the rounds to feed her animals. As usual, Mother Goose followed like a shadow. After fueling the mower, Jessica shoved the machine into high gear. It was nearly dark before she found time to sit down, prop up her feet and nibble on the dinner she had nuked in the microwave oven.

A firm rap resounded at the door. Frowning curiously, Jessica set aside her plastic plate. She opened the door to see Devlin Callahan decked out in a starched and pressed Western shirt, trim-fitting blue jeans and polished boots. Her jaw dropped to her chest, and she stood there gaping at him like a tongue-tied idiot.

Good gracious, no man—especially not this man—had a right to look so devastatingly attractive. When he flashed her a knock-you-to-your-knees smile that generated enough wattage to see her through a blizzard, an unwilling jolt of attraction zapped her. In one tanned hand, which was devoid of jewelry, Devlin held a bouquet of roses.

Roses for her? Couldn’t be. The man hated her, she was sure of it.

Jessica was not mentally, physically or emotionally prepared to confront this handsome rascal. She was too exhausted to go another round with him, most especially when he looked like every woman’s secret dream standing there on her front porch. This man redefined the words dangerous and tempting, but Jessica had made a pact to play it safe. She wanted no part of him.

“I brought the roses for—” he began.

Jessica did the only thing she could possibly do to prevent being overwhelmed by the devil’s own temptation, who had caught her off guard while she looked and felt her absolute worst.

She shut the door in his face.

The roses he had extended to her got caught inside the doorjamb, and the door snipped off their delicate heads in one vicious whack. Jessica glanced at the decapitated flowers that lay on her grungy barnyard boots, then took quick inventory of her attire. Gawd, she looked like an abandoned orphan in her jungle-print T-shirt and holey jeans that were tucked in the tops of her boots. Her off-center ponytail dangled in tangles on one side of her head. The long strands were snagged with twigs and coated with grass clippings. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face to conceal the circles under her eyes. In short, she was a pitiful mess, and he, damn him, looked scrumptious enough to eat.

Well, she had blown any chance of reconciliation, even if now was the time for one—which it wasn’t, not when she didn’t look presentable or feel mentally alert.

Frustrated, exasperated by her purely feminine reaction to a man she wanted very much to dislike, Jessica marched across the room to plop down on the sofa, hoping Devlin would give up and go away.

DEVLIN STARED at the stems in his hand and willed himself not to lose his temper. He managed a grin, recalling Jessica’s disheveled appearance and stunned expression. She didn’t remotely resemble the sophisticated professional woman he had encountered earlier in the week. He approved of Jessica’s looks when she was all mussed up like a hardworking farmhand. She appeared more approachable.

With that image firmly etched in his mind, Devlin rapped on the door. “Porter, I came by to ask you out to dinner,” he called politely.

“I already ate,” she called back.

“Well, then, how about tomorrow night?”

“Not interested,” she hollered.

Hoo-kay, this wasn’t going well, thought Devlin. Now what?

Tired of talking to the door, Devlin stepped carefully into the flower bed and tapped on the living room window. He could see Jessica sitting rigidly on her leather sofa, staring at the far wall.

“So how about going to the ice cream social with me Sunday evening?” he asked politely.

She turned briefly to glance in his direction, then faced forward again. “I’d rather eat gravel, but thanks so much for asking. Just go away.”

When she bounded to her feet and headed toward the kitchen holding what looked to be a plastic food container, Devlin scurried around the house…and came face to beak with the guard goose, which quacked an objection to his presence.

“Well, tough,” Devlin muttered as he veered around the feathered obstacle.

Devlin leaned close to the kitchen window to gain Jessica’s attention. He had girded himself to be nice to this woman and, by damned, he wasn’t leaving until she agreed to speak to him in a civil, rational, mature manner.

When Jessica saw him standing there, she gasped in surprise and clutched her chest as if her heart was about to pop out.

Before she could yell at him, he turned up the voltage on his smile and asked, “Okay, so how about if we take in a movie Saturday night?”

She glared at him even as she backed away from the window. “I’d have more fun dating a corpse,” she said before she pivoted and stalked off.

Struggling for hard-won composure, resolved not to drop the reins on his temper, Devlin watched Jessica veer toward the staircase. He glanced at the rickety lattice and second-story balcony and decided to go for it. Never let his brother say that Devlin hadn’t done all within his power to make amends with the dragon lady.

Tossing aside the rose stems, Dev stepped upon the supporting beam of the trellis, then hauled himself to the roof. He grabbed the base of the balcony railing to hoist himself upright, stepped over to the warped door, then rapped lightly on it.

Jessica shrieked in alarm. “Are you trying to spy on me while I’m undressing to take a bath, you pervert?” she asked huffily. “Be warned. Sheriff Osborn is definitely going to hear about this!”

“Calm down a minute, Blondie,” he called before she made a grab for the phone. “I’m only trying to be neighborly and make amends for my prank. Only it wasn’t exactly a prank, because I was trying to muffle the jungle sounds so my cattle wouldn’t bolt and run again. And thank you for trenching your pond dam. My brother and I sincerely appreciate it.” He tried out another charming smile. “If you’ll only let me come in so we can sit down and work out our differences—”

“No,” she interrupted.

Devlin noted Jessica was a decisive kind of person. She didn’t take time to consider his offer, just cut him off with an unequivocal no. He, however, wasn’t leaving until they negotiated some kind of truce.

“I want to talk to you, Porter. You might as well accept the fact that you aren’t getting rid of me easily.”

“Then I’m calling the cops, Peeping Tom!” she threatened loudly.

When he saw her lunge for the phone, Devlin tried to open the door. Unfortunately, his foot went through a rotted board on the balcony, and he staggered to regain his balance. He howled in alarm when the rickety railing gave way behind him.

Devlin cartwheeled across the sloped roof, clawing desperately for a handhold—and found none. When he took a header off the roof, he attempted to twist in midair so he could draw his legs beneath him.

Waste of time. The crape myrtle shrub that shaded the back porch came at him at alarming speed.

“Argh!” He landed spread-eagle in the bush, ripping a hole in the elbow of his brand-spanking-new shirt. Swearing and thrashing, he tried to dislodge himself from the shrub.

“Are you all right?”

Devlin twisted sideways to see Jessica standing on the broken balcony, staring at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. When she broke into a full-fledged smile, the frustration seeped right out of him. Damn, she had an engaging smile that affected every feature on her bewitching face.

He lay there, dazzled by the effect of her smile, wishing something besides his clumsiness was the cause of it. Despite his embarrassing position in the shrub, he grinned at her, hoping to assure her that he was capable of laughing at his own foolishness.

For a few moments their gazes locked and they smiled easily at each other.

Then, to his complete bemusement, her expression closed, her back stiffened and she stepped away from the broken railing.

“I’d like you to leave, Callahan. I want to take a bath without being spied on. I want to go to bed so I can get some rest.”

Devlin suddenly wanted to go to bed himself, but getting some rest was far down on his list—after seeing his neighbor in a totally different light. Damn, he couldn’t believe how quickly desire had hit him. Came right out of nowhere and nailed him the instant her face lit up in a dazzling smile. His perception of her changed in a heartbeat.

“I hope I can count on you not to serenade me and my exotic animals with that hillbilly music tonight. I don’t think I can go another night without sleep.”

Having said that, she wheeled like a soldier on parade and marched into the house. He heard the door slam shut behind her. Whatever ground Devlin thought he’d gained for that split second out of time was lost forever.

Cursing the temperamental woman and his attraction—which was apparently one-sided and a total waste of time—Devlin squirmed out of the shrubbery, dusted himself off, then panned the area to see that dozens of pens and cages, shaded by groves of trees, sat a hundred yards from the house. When the goose honked at him, the caged animals struck up their usual racket.

“To hell with this,” Devlin grumbled as he limped around the house to return to his truck. “The ball is in her court now. I tried my best to call a truce.”