Page 4

B rie starting nodding off before she’d barely finished half the bottle.

Ashley forced herself to meet Johnny’s gaze again, not surprised to find him watching her with a hooded expression. “Do you have a spare blanket around here?”

“It’s warm enough for the calves in the hay.” His voice was patient. He understood she didn’t have much experience working with farm animals.

“I believe you, but I still think it would help.” She trailed her fingers across the calf’s head again. “That is…if you don’t mind humoring a city gal.”

Johnny silently stood and left the room. He returned with an old quilt in hand. “Only been employed for a few minutes, and already you’re becoming a pain in my backside.”

“Best boss ever,” she retorted sweetly, reaching for the quilt.

He tossed it at her. “Quit calling me that!”

She grinned as she caught it. “Thanks.” It was so much fun getting under his skin, and not the least bit professional like she’d promised herself she’d be after he hired her.

Ashley rubbed Brie’s head and managed to coax another few ounces down her. When it became clear that the calf was done, Johnny held out a hand for the bottle.

Ashley gave it to him. “Thanks.”

He held his other hand out to her. “How about we go take a look at your castle next?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Ashley took the time to tuck the spare quilt around the calf first. Brie burrowed her nose into the folds of fabric without reopening her eyes. With a sigh of resignation, Ashley finally placed her hand in Johnny’s and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

“There you are!” A brittle female voice resounded off the walls of the cozy room, making Ashley yank her hand back.

It was Caro Madison.

Without thinking, Ashley’s finger rose to her lips in a silent warning to the woman, angling her head suggestively at Brie. Caro’s loud greeting had made the little calf flinch, though she still didn’t open her eyes. Her full belly must be making her too sleepy. She snuggled deeper into the quilt and grew still again.

“What are you doing here?” Caro’s voice was threaded with suspicion as she flicked a glance between Ashley and the sleeping calf.

As usual, she was way overdressed for Heart Lake. This morning, she was wearing black leather pants — Leather! — and a blood-red wool coat that fell just below her knees.

Ashley wasn’t sure why The Black Widow was going to so much trouble to stand out. Usually, people with something to hide tried a little harder to fit in. Wouldn’t it be wiser to traipse around in jeans and boots like everyone else?

“I own the place, remember?” For no particular reason, Johnny’s teasing voice rubbed Ashley the wrong way as he ushered the two women from the room ahead of him. “I think the real question is what brings you to my humble dairy farm?”

“I was referring to her, and you know it.” Caro’s red-painted lips turned down at the corners as she glanced pointedly between him and Ashley.

Johnny frowned in puzzlement for a moment. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, you mean Ashley?” He gave a low whoop of satisfaction. “You’re looking at my newest farm hand. I’m not sure if the two of you have been introduced.” He closed the door to the calf feeding room and made some exaggerated gestures while doing the honors. “Caro, this is Ashley Perkins. Ashley, this is Caro Madison, the events manager at Chester Farm.”

Caro made no attempt to shake Ashley’s hand. She was too busy preening over his introduction of her. “Management looks good on me, doesn’t it?”

“Yep.” Johnny started walking.

She pivoted in such a way as to cut Ashley completely out of their conversation. Then she hurried forward to fall in step with him.

Ashley trailed behind them at a slower pace, taking in the row of cattle hooked up to milking stations. They were heathy, filled-out creatures with glossy black patterns covering their otherwise white hide. Like snowflakes, each patch of black hide looked unique.

God’s own artwork. Ashley was so busy ogling the beautiful creatures that she jumped when a cowboy stepped out from behind one of the milking stations and swaggered into her path.

“Yo, Johnny!” Though his gaze was on her, he addressed her boss instead.

She’d never laid eyes on him before. Like Johnny, he was wearing faded jeans and well-worn boots. Unlike Johnny, he had a piece of straw sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “We’ve got a loose valve on one of the machines. I’m doing what I can to tighten it down, but the O-ring is partially stripped out.” He pushed back his Stetson to frown ferociously at the dripping end of the cord dangling from his hand.

Johnny paused his exodus from the barn with his chattering companion. “I bought a spare box of O-rings a few days ago. They’re in the storage room. This is Ashley Perkins.” He angled his head at her. “Take her with you and show her around, will you?” His expression was impersonal, his manner offhand. “She’s our new farm hand.” He tossed that detail out casually, like it was no big deal. Then he returned his attention to Caro.

Ashley watched Caro reach for his upper arm and fold her hands possessively around it. It was a disturbing reminder of one of the biggest reasons she’d wanted to come to work for Johnny Cuba. He had no idea just how badly he needed her protection right now.

The cowboy in front of Ashley abruptly spit out his piece of straw and swaggered closer, thrusting a hand in her direction. “I’m Clint Rhodes. Looks like you’re already a loyal member of Team Johnny.”

Am I that transparent? She chuckled to cover a wave of embarrassment as she shook his hand. “Eh, he grows on you, doesn’t he?”

“And then some.” He raked her from head to toe with an expression of unadulterated curiosity. “Follow me.”

They walked side-by-side to the storage room to retrieve the box of O-rings Johnny had mentioned. Up close, Clint looked younger than Ashley had originally judged him to be. The lines at the edges of his eyes and mouth weren’t from age. His dark tan suggested they were more likely caused from overexposure to the sun. His exaggerated swagger, she soon noted, was his attempt to hide a heavy limp. He’d been injured at some point. Severely.

He caught her staring at his lame leg. “Rodeo injury,” he informed her gruffly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He shrugged. “Part of me is, and part of me isn’t.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that and was hesitant to pry into his business by asking.

He must’ve taken her strained silence for a question, because he was quick to elaborate. “Got trampled by a bull. The rodeo clowns didn’t get to me fast enough.”

“That’s too bad.” It sounded like it was a miracle he was still alive. “Is riding bulls how you met Johnny?”

“Yep.” They reached the storage room, and he pulled open the door, waving her inside ahead of him. He flipped on a light switch as he followed her. “I never stood a chance at the number one spot until he retired.”

Her eyes widened at the floor-to-ceiling shelves that were jam-packed with supplies, many of which she couldn’t identify. “Congratulations on making it to number one. That’s huge!”

“For a single ride.” He sobered as he pointed at his leg. “Got this souvenir on my way out of the ring.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured again, not sure what else to say.

“As the old saying goes, everything happens for a reason.” He rummaged through a few boxes on one of the shelves and resurfaced with a fresh O-ring in hand. “This’ll do the trick.” He led her back out to the main part of the barn where the milking stations were set up.

“What made you decide to come work for Johnny?” She hoped she didn’t sound too nosy, but the temptation to find out more about her new employer was too tempting.

Clint shrugged as he squatted down beside the milking machine with the disconnected hose. “Shared grief. Guess you could say we needed each other.”

Ashley was more puzzled than ever. “I see.” She didn’t, of course. His answer left her with more questions than before.

Clint glanced up from his tinkering to pin her with a hard look. “Johnny didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. “Listen, I didn’t mean to pry.” Apparently, she’d stumbled across a sensitive topic. “I was just making conversation.”

“It’s okay.” He ducked his head back over his work. “Since you’re gonna be working with us, you may as well know the truth.” There was a pregnant pause as he seated the O-ring over the milk line and tightened it down. “He was my brother-in-law for about a year.” His jaw clenched with emotion.

Ashley stared at him in consternation. It hadn’t occurred to her that Johnny might be married. Or had once been married, since Clint seemed to be speaking in the past tense about their shared grief and all.

The lines at the edges of Clint’s eyes and mouth grew more pronounced. “I lost my sister — his wife — during childbirth.”

Horror flooded her. She pressed a hand to her heart. “Oh, Clint!” This was worse than anything she could’ve imagined.

“Turns out she had a heart murmur that none of us knew about.” His voice was bitter. “The baby didn’t make it, either.”

By now, Ashley’s heart was aching so badly for both him and Johnny that she took a knee. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” she rasped, and she couldn’t. All of a sudden, having a cranky blended family and taking a bullet in the line of duty didn’t seem so bad.

“Every day it gets a little better.” Clint rocked back on his heels and pointed upward. “Thanks to Him.” He glanced at her again and started frowning. “You okay?”

No, she was not okay. She was far from okay, but she nodded. “I, um…since we’re going to be working together, there’s something you should know about me, too.”

He looked surprised. “Okay.”

She plunged onward. “I don’t know the first thing about dairy farming, but I’m anxious to learn, well…everything,” she finished breathlessly.

He nodded, looking like he was fighting a smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did a woman with no dairy experience end up at Johnny’s Dairy?”

“I need a fresh start,” she blurted. It was partially true, at least. She glanced away from him. “Like you, I was injured on the job.”

“What kind of job, Ashley Perkins?” he drawled.

“Police detective. Dallas PD.” She silently begged him to leave it at that. “Took a bullet during a raid.” She pointed at her left shoulder. “Still in recovery mode, but I’m getting there.”

He whistled beneath his breath. “Your presence here is starting to make a lot more sense.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. “How so?”

Clint snorted. “Though Johnny pretends he doesn’t have a serious bone in his body, his heart’s as big as Wyoming.” He pointed down the row of cattle being milked. “Look around, and you’ll see what I mean. A lot of the bigger dairy farms separate the mother cows from their calves at birth, but not Johnny. He can’t say no to a stray cat, much less a baby calf like Brie.”

“Or a wounded police officer, apparently.” She wrinkled her nose as she finished the thought for him.

He winked at her. “You said it. Not me.”

Her thoughts flew back to the bottle-fed calves. It was entirely possible the whole dairy operation sprawled out before them was Johnny’s way of filling the void left by the tremendous losses he’d suffered. No matter how she looked at things, her new employer was a big-hearted, compassionate person, and that was a good thing.

While Clint continued to tinker with the milking machine, she caught sight of a pair of glowing eyes in the rafters above their heads. “Um, Clint?” Her hand shot out to his forearm, gripping it. “We may have a problem.” She wasn’t sure what wild critters roamed the outskirts of Heart Lake. Wolves? Panthers?

Clint followed her line of vision and snickered. “Nah, that’s just Can Opener, our resident tomcat. He keeps the mice population down.”

“Can Opener?” Her eyes widened at the name. Before Clint could answer, the cat came bounding down from the rafters, making her swallow a squeak of alarm.

She’d never before encountered such a large cat. Calling Can Opener a tomcat had to be a joke. He was bigger than a lot of dogs!

Clint glanced laughingly down at his arm that her fingers were still clawing into.

“So sorry!” She forced herself to let go of him. “I’ve never crossed paths with a wildcat before.” Can Opener prowled their way, purring loudly and rubbing against one of the cows as he approached them.

The mama cow gave him a sleepy-eyed look and flicked her tail affectionately at him.

“Oh, he’s not feral, if that’s what you mean. He’s part Maine Coon,” Clint explained as Can Opener paced closer to Ashley. “They’re big softies. Not a drop of wildcat in his blood that we know of.”

Ashley eyed the enormous feline warily. “Hello, Can Opener. I can only imagine how you got a name like that.”

“Ha! Canned cat food is his weakness.” Clint’s voice brimmed with affection. “If he so much as hears you opening a can, he comes running.”

The cat purred louder, cocking his head at her to observe her through emerald green eyes. In stark contrast to his dark face and dark legs, the rest of him was a fluffy grayish-white.

He abruptly closed the distance between them and pushed his head against her hand.

“Hey!” She ran a tentative hand over the top of his head, astonished by his friendliness. “I think I just made another friend.”

Clint curled his upper lip at her. “You smell like the calves. They’re his favorite.”

“Aw! They’re my favorite, too, Can Opener.” Especially Brie. Ashley couldn’t wait to go check on the premature heifer again. She glanced toward the door leading to the room where the four calves were playing.

Can Opener suddenly reared back on his back legs like a human and stretched upward to rest his paws on her shoulders. The movement brought them nose-to-nose.

“What an attention hog!” She rubbed the sides of his fluffy neck with both hands. “Clint wasn’t kidding about you being a big softie.”

The cowboy crouched nearby, surveying the cat proudly. “He’s every bit as clever as a cattle dog when we’re herding the cows from one field to the next.”

“We?” She met his gaze, wondering if she’d be expected to do any range riding. She’d taken horseback riding lessons as a kid, but it had been years since the last time she’d been in a saddle.

“Me, Hawk Chesney, and Tucker Pratt,” he supplied. “Sometimes Johnny rides with us.”

As if on cue, two more cowboys strode into the barn.

“Well, what do you know?” Clint straightened, grinning. “I was just telling our newest farm hand about y’all. Nothing good, of course.”

One of the cowboys leaped over the railing on the opposite side of the barn without responding. He was a Native American with a mane of blue-black hair that swung around his shoulders. He gave Ashley a two-fingered salute and got right to work unhitching the cows from the milking machines.

“That’s Hawk.” Clint pointed him out. “He doesn’t talk much, but he puts in some long hours here. Mostly evenings and weekends.”

At her questioning look, he added, “Like Johnny, his day job is at Lonestar Security.”

Interesting. “A bit of a workaholic, huh?”

“Yep.” He gave her a thumbs up. “Hawk’s a bodyguard, though, not a detective like Johnny.”

“That’s not the only other job he works.” The third cowboy jogged their way. His Stetson was pulled low over his eyes, hiding his expression. “Hawk also pulls security sometimes for the chief at the rez next door.” He jammed a thumb toward the south side of town.

Three jobs? By rez, Ashley assumed he was referring to the Comanche reservation that butted up to Heart Lake.

“I’m Tucker Pratt, by the way.” As the cowboy shook her hand, she caught a glimpse of piercing blue eyes that raked her curiously.

“Nice to meet you.” She studied him back.

He tipped the brim of his Stetson at her and went to work unhooking the cows from the milking machines.

Clint helped out, leaving Ashley alone with Can Opener.

She gently removed his paws from her shoulders to follow after the men. “Pretend like I’ve never seen a milking machine before and talk me through what you’re doing,” she pleaded.

So they did. They took it a step further and allowed her to do some hands-on work, hovering nearby and talking her through the steps.

“Nice job!” Tucker reached over to clap her on the shoulder like she was one of the guys.

The streak of ensuing pain stole her breath. She felt her face go white and nearly had to take a knee.

“Whoa!” Clint hurried to stand in front of her and peer anxiously into her face.

She was too busy seeing stars to make out more than his worried expression as he explained, “That’s her bad shoulder.”

The rest of his face slowly came back into focus.

Tucker looked contrite. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She spoke through numb lips. “You didn’t know.” It was taking longer to heal than it should have, which was starting to worry her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so hasty about canceling her last checkup at the doctor’s office.

“I’m truly sorry,” he repeated. “What happened?”

“Took a bullet.” Though she didn’t mind him knowing, it wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on. “I’m on the mend,” she added quickly.

Before he could respond, a male voice boomed across the barn, “I’ll take it from here.”

Johnny had returned. Something warm and wonderful zinged through Ashley as she noted that Caro was no longer with him.

“I see y’all have met.” He strode their way.

“Yep. We’ve been showing her the ropes.” Tucker went back to work unhooking cows from the milking machines.

“I’ll have her back to you in no time,” Johnny assured. “Just need her to sign some paperwork and give her the key to her cabin.” He beckoned her to walk with him down the gravel aisle toward the rear exit.

“Where’s your visitor?” Ashley kept her voice carefully neutral as she complied with his request.

A loud meow drew her attention to the fact that Can Opener was following them. She reached down to rub the side of his neck.

“Caro’s on her way back to work.” Johnny’s expression darkened. “She stopped by to ask if I’d join them at some Valentine shindig they’re having at Chester Farm.”

Ashley’s heart sank, though all she did was cock her head playfully at him. “And you said?”

“Not much.” He gestured ruefully. “She just assumed it was a done deal.”

“Then you’re going?” She wished she was at liberty to warn him to be on his guard, but she couldn’t without spilling her real reason for being in town. She’d already done what she could by sending an anonymous tip to the police, one she doubted they’d even take seriously.

“Told her I’d think about it,” he grumbled. “It’s an event for folks in their twenties and thirties.” An arrested expression stole across his rugged features. “You could join us.” There was a hopeful note in his voice that tugged at her heart, but she shook her head.

There was no way she was playing third wheel to him and Caro. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m in more of an un-Valentine mood this year.” She liked the fact that he didn’t sound too thrilled about attending the event. Even though he didn’t fit the profile of Caro’s usual victims, she was still concerned for his safety. Landing in Caro’s crosshairs — no matter the reason — was never a good thing.

Johnny grimaced in disappointment at her response. “Okay. New idea.” He shot a hopeful look over his shoulder at Clint. “One of you could go in my place. Might be a work bonus in it for the first volunteer.”

“Not a chance. Caro’s not my type.” Clint backed away from them with his hands raised in defense. “Not yours, either,” he muttered as he dropped his head back over his work. Neither Tucker nor Hawk bothered answering him.

Ashley gave Johnny a covert look from beneath her eyelashes, but she couldn’t tell if he’d heard his brother-in-law’s words.

As they approached the door, she slowed her steps to watch Tucker and Hawk finish working their way down the rows of cattle, unfastening their milking apparatuses and nudging them toward a side door leading outside. One by one, the cattle mooed, tossed their heads, and lumbered out to the pasture to graze.

Ashley hated the thought of Caro elbowing her way into such a peaceful scene, spilling her personal brand of deadliness over it. Johnny and Clint had been through enough already.

I have, too.

It made her more determined than ever to figure out what The Black Widow was up to in Heart Lake and put a stop to her before it was too late.