“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?”