A few hot baths, a lot of movies, and about sixty hours were just what she needed, though. Because on the third day, she woke up to find she wasn’t hurting nearly as badly.
She could run this ranch without looking like a spoiled brat. The key was to not open up to anyone, to keep it all about business. If she did that, she’d be tough, ready for anything. Brielle knew she was smart, even if most people didn’t see that. She chose for them not to. Just one more effective barrier against the world.
Falling from the horse, then stepping in the horse manure, aching so badly she thought she was going to die, and hearing the men laugh at her had all added up to her finding herself at the breaking point. But she wasn’t going to prove all of them right and be the pampered princess they were making her out to be.
If she wanted to work, she could. That was for sure. So what was she going to do about it? That was the real question. As she took a nice long hot shower, the wheels in her brain were turning. What had she done in the past when things hadn’t gone her way?
She found a solution, that’s what she did. So how did she get the young ranch hands to listen to her? There was nothing she could do if they weren’t willing to follow her lead. Of course, that was sort of like the blind leading the blind, but, dammit, she was the leader whether they liked it or not.
She didn’t want to take advantage of them; she just wanted them to help her make this place a success so her father wouldn’t think she was a failure. Somewhere in the past couple of weeks, his opinion had begun to matter to her. Not that she would ever tell him.
Somewhere along the way she had switched her thinking. Maybe it was her conversation with Colt, though she wished that hadn’t happened. And maybe it was just that she’d had so much time on her own. Maybe it was even the ranching books she’d been flipping through, and all the Web pages. But, whatever the reason, she had made a decision to do this, and so she would. But she knew she couldn’t do it without serious help.
Yes, she still wanted to get away from Montana, but before now, she’d wanted to get away at any cost. Now, it was more important for her to walk away with her head held high.
If she made the place a success and then sold it, her father would be proud, and she’d show her brothers that she wasn’t some stupid little girl — that she was just as capable as, or even more capable than, any of them. It’s not as if any of those boys had been prizes in the past.
So she needed to figure out how to get the men to listen to her. Once she had their attention, she could work on the respect part. A smile split her face when she figured it out. They were men, after all!
Got it! First get them to see her, and then she could make them listen!
* * *
Colt had no idea why he was working like a flipping ranch hand on Brielle’s property when he had his own land to deal with, but here he was speaking with Tony after helping the men mend fences for the last two hours. It was insane. For her to think he worked for her was one thing, but now he found himself actually working for her, and for nothing.
What in the world was wrong with him? His eyes wandered toward the house for the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. He hadn’t seen her since she’d stomped off after their ride, and for the first day afterward he was glad of it — or he’d told himself he was.
She’d acted like an overprivileged twit, but that was just the thing — it was an act. He knew that. She had been feeling vulnerable, she’d been tired, sore, and hurting. So instead of admitting this, she’d stormed off, making them think the worst of her. What he wanted to know was why?
Still, with her obvious dislike for the land and her obvious incompetence, he’d sworn to himself that first day after their ride that he was going to try to convince her that ranching wasn’t the life for her. That shouldn’t be too hard. She hated Montana and hated everything to do with the land she now owned. If he could just find the right buttons to push, he’d be all set at getting her to run far, far away.
And yet the thought of her leaving didn’t make him ecstatic; instead, it brought him an ache he couldn’t quite explain. There was no chance he was falling for this woman. Impossible. Not after a few encounters, a couple of hot kisses, and one “meaningful” conversation.
But he had a sinking feeling about this whole mess — he was certainly falling in lust with the little princess. And that was almost as bad in his book. She was beginning to fill his dreams, and then she was the first thought on his mind when he awoke. He had to get her out of his mind, and he’d already established the only way to do it — have sex with her.
He had to do it! For the sake of his sanity. Who could get hurt when it all — or the two of them — came down to it?
A few minutes later, his eyes were rooted to her house when the front door opened. Without realizing it, he was holding his breath. Two and a half days had been too long. That should have stopped him cold, but when she emerged, all thoughts and feelings he had went straight to his lower regions, and he knew he was in deep manure.
The men on lunch break instantly became tongue-tied. Not that he noticed. All his attention was focused on Brielle and what she was wearing — or, more accurately, what she wasn’t wearing.
Standing there on the porch and holding a pitcher that looked to be full of lemonade, she had on cutoff jeans — those Wranglers she’d killed on the trail? — that were so damn tiny that the pockets were sticking out of the front. He couldn’t imagine what would be showing in the back. And the only thing covering her br**sts was about the tiniest bikini top he’d ever seen. What in the hell was she trying to do to him? As he looked around, he revised his question. What was she trying to do to all of them?
“What’s going on here?” This came from Tony, who was at his side, and who seemed just as entranced by the show as the rest of the men.
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out,” Colt growled.
“Hold on. I want to see what’s on her mind,” Tony said with a scowl wrinkling his forehead.
“Why? She should know better than to dress like that in front of all these young pups,” Colt snapped.
“They’ve seen less in the way of clothing,” Tony said with a chuckle. It was amazing. Even though what sounded like a laugh escaped his mouth, his lips still didn’t turn up. Colt would someday have to ask him how he managed that.
Against his better judgment, Colt listened to Tony and decided to see how this was going to play out. When she stepped off the porch and walked to the back of her truck, setting a tray down that held lemonade, what appeared to be cookies, and a lot of paper cups, he began to figure it out.