She stared down at it, wanting to tell the animal to go away, but she petted the tiny head instead.
Maybe it was a little more than just cute.
Nikki looked up. Cal was watching her. She blushed. She could feel the heat rise up her face. She never blushed. Dammit, though, she needed to know what he thought about their time in bed.
“I enjoyed this morning,” she pressed. She didn’t want an award for best sex or anything, but she’d like to know what he took from the experience, and maybe if he wanted to do it again in the future. Near future preferably.
He aimed the calf toward the gate. “Milking the cow or gathering the eggs? Both were good research.”
Her forehead puckered. “No, I mean, sure, the research was great. I was talking about after that.”
He nudged the calf inside the enclosure. Bessie Two was already at the fence looking at it. She sauntered closer, sniffing the tiny creature. The calf bleated again. The cow bumped the calf with her head, aiming it in the right direction. As if on instinct, the calf went right for a teat and began to suck.
Cal closed the gate, then looked at Nikki. “Oh, you’re talking about when we had sex. Sure, I enjoyed myself.”
That’s all? He
“The cream is probably ready to be skimmed off the milk. You’ll love churning butter. Pioneers didn’t need all the fancy gyms they have now. Not when they had to work just to put food on the table.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” The pioneer women all looked like drudges, too, from the pictures she’d seen.
He eyed her. “Have you managed to work the stove?”
She quickly put her hands behind her so he wouldn’t see them tremble. “Are you joking? I was made for this kind of life.” What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And she hadn’t really lied. Okay, maybe she had.
An hour later, Nikki was wishing someone would amputate her arms. God was punishing her because she’d lied about using the stove. No, that couldn’t be it. If that were the case, she’d have been churning milk into butter long before now.
This was torture, though. Cal had poured the cream into a large glass jar and screwed a lid on it that had wooden paddles and a handle. When she turned the handle, the paddles spun through the cream.
There wasn’t a lot to it, at first. But then the cream began to thicken, and even though she frequently changed sides, her arms felt as though they might fall off any minute. They ached all the way across her shoulders.
Cal opened the door and stepped inside the kitchen. “I put the calf up so she won’t get tomorrow’s milk.”
“Great.” She smiled at him. If nothing else, she was a damned good actress.
Cal smiled back, not buying her performance for one second. An actress, she wasn’t. And he still wasn’t sure she’d really used the stove. It didn’t look as if it had been lit in months. She had to be getting tired of PB &J sandwiches by now. This story must be real important to her. He hated that she was going to be disappointed.
He almost laughed when he remembered how she’d tried to find out what he’d thought about them having sex. He’d intentionally downplayed how much he’d enjoyed it and was rewarded when her forehead wrinkled in disappointment. She’d quickly covered it up, though. Nope, he wasn’t about to tell her it was the best sex he’d ever had.
He watched for a few seconds as she turned the handle. He remembered when his grandmother had stuck him with this chore. He’d rather clean stalls all day than churn butter, and he’d never acquired a taste for fresh butter, either.
“The cream is churned,” he said. He’d cut her a little slack. It might not be good publicity for the ranch if her arms fell off.
“Oh, it is. I was having fun, too.”
“If you move your hand off the handle, we can unscrew the lid and get it into the molds.”
She grimaced, then took her other hand to free the one holding the handle. “It seems to be locked in this position.” She laughed without humor. “Unused muscles, I suppose.”
“You’ll toughen up; don’t worry.” He patted her on the back.
She sucked wind.
“Think of all the research you’re getting. I bet you’ll write a hell of a book.”
“Oh, I’m sure before I leave here I’ll have everything I need.”
But Cal only smiled. He planned to show her all there was to know about the ranch, but that was the only information she’d have when she left. For now, he’d leave her to her own devices, but after he left, Cal found it was a lot harder to stop thinking about her.
It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.
Chapter 12
Celeste opened her eyes. It was dark. Confusion settled over her like a cold and unwelcome blanket. She reached out and felt the bedside table and the small lamp, then the switch that turned it on.
The low-wattage bulb cast a warm glow in the room. At least she was no longer in the dark.
Where was she this time?
The room was unfamiliar, but that was a normal occurrence with her. She’d traveled a lot over the years- different towns, different states, never staying long in any of them. She didn’t regret not having a permanent home. The adventures she’d had were amazing. Nothing else mattered.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and waited for the fog to go away. Then she remembered where she was- Crystal Creek Dude Ranch-and she was the new massage therapist, even if it was on a trial basis. That was okay, too. She had a good feeling about this job.
She glanced at the clock: just after midnight. Her nap had lasted a long time. All day and into the night. Her forehead wrinkled. That’s what she got for going so long without sleep. Brian probably thought she was lazy. Not a good way to start her employment.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d missed lunch and dinner. God, she was so hungry, too. What had she eaten yesterday morning? A package of crackers and washed it down with a soda that had been only lukewarm. Her eating habits weren’t the best even in good times. Much like everything else she did in her life, she ate on the go.
She stretched her arms above her head as she glanced around. This was a nice room, comfortable, and it had a bathroom. No tub, but it did have a shower. She’d rather soak in scented bathwater inhaling her relaxing herbs.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, though.
And hopefully she wouldn’t have to resort to begging Brian to let her keep this job. No, she wouldn’t think like that. She was a good massage therapist. Fate had brought her here, so why in the world would fate have Brian fire her?
It would be a trial basis only until Brian felt more comfortable. Then he would see what she could do, and the job would be permanent. At least, as permanent as she wanted it to be. It would always be her choice.
She needed to settle in one place for a while. Her money had run low. So low that she had less than a hundred dollars, and even she knew her car was on its last tires. She doubted it would take her another five miles. It was time to trade it in, and that was okay, because she was beginning to dislike the car tremendously, especially when it backfired and belched out black smoke. Lord, how embarrassing was that?
She would just have to prove to Brian that she was great at what she did and only hope it didn’t turn out like her last job. A shudder swept over her. No, she didn’t even want to go there right now.
Instead, she grabbed her robe. Would Brian care if she wandered the ranch at this time of night? Her stomach rumbled again. It seemed her body was making the decision for her. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she went to the kitchen and found something to eat.
She eased out of her room and quietly shut the door. She’d passed the kitchen, so she knew the direction it was in.
The ranch was quiet as she wandered the halls, only the dim light from wall sconces lighting her way. The
