What more could happen for her to have to deal with? She sighed in disgust. For the past several weeks she’d been battling first one calamity, then another. She felt like a punchdrunk fighter, reeling from one disaster to another, unable to successfully cope with any of them.
The frozen gears of the windmill had been one more thing that had to be faced. When she’d discovered there was no water in the holding tank, she’d wondered just how many more things could happen. Well, now she knew. Travis Kane could show up.
Megan couldn’t think of anyone she’d less rather see than the neighbor who’d spent most of their lives delighting in making her life miserable. Well, he didn’t need to worry. Trying to run the ranch on her own had certainly added to her woes over the years, all without his help. She didn’t need any more aggravations, thank you very much.
She glanced back at the rusted gears. The piece was shot—past being repaired. Somehow, she’d have to scrape up the money to buy a replacement part. The cattle had to have water out there, no question about it.
With a shrug at the silent question of where she might find some spare change for the part, she gave up her task for the moment. Concentrating on her footing, Megan began the long climb down the side of the wooden structure to the man whom she’d thought a scourge during her childhood.
“Couldn’t you find an easier way to kill yourself than breaking your blasted neck?” he growled near her ear once she was within range. He wrapped his hands around her waist and swung her to the ground.
As soon as her booted feet touched the ground, she pulled away and turned to face him. From this position, she had to look up at the tall, dark-haired male who had spent their childhood causing her nothing but grief and frustration. She’d known him all her life—twenty-four years. Their families operated neighboring ranches.
The unexpected presence of Travis Kane was all she needed to complete a perfectly rotten day, that capped off a worse month and an abysmal year. She hadn’t seen him in over two years. Twenty years would have been even better.
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” she asked, lifting her straw hat from her head and running her fingers through her short blond hair.
Although it was only April, the hot Texas sun was already causing her to perspire, despite the brisk breeze. She could feel a trickle of moisture slide down the valley between her small breasts.
Megan resettled her hat and watched him through narrowed eyes, waiting for some answers. She didn’t have any time to waste on the man.
Despite his obvious irritation, Travis responded with a reluctant lopsided smile and shook his head. He tilted his hat forward so that it now sat low on his forehead, drawing her reluctant attention to his unforgettable eyes. They shone from beneath the shadowed brim with a resilient and mocking good humor, their deep purplish blue color reminiscent of the bluebonnets that covered Texas during a moist spring. Unfortunately Texas hadn’t seen enough moisture in much too long.
“Well, howdy to you, too, sweetheart,” he drawled, eyeing her grimy coveralls and worn shirt with the torn-out sleeves. “It plumb touches my heart to witness your excitement and enthusiasm at seein’ me after all this time.” He leaned against the windmill and propped- a booted foot against one of the upright supports. “Can’t you drum up a little neighborly affection for an ol’ friend, honey?”
Megan peeled off her work gloves and shoved them into a back pocket of her coveralls. “You always were a pain in the posterior, Kane. I can’t see where much has changed since the last time I saw you.”
He gave her a level-eyed stare, his smile fading. “You know, I thought you had more sense than to clamber around like that out here by yourself. If you were to slip and fall nobody would know about it.”
She turned away from him and started toward Daisy, who she’d left nibbling on a patch of sun-dried grass.
“You don’t need to concern yourself about me.” When she saw that he was following her, she added, “If I were you, I’d worry about my own neck. I hear you’re still working the rodeo circuit. Not exactly a safe occupation to have.”
“Those are calculated risks, Megan, whereas what you do is—” He waved his hand, as though at a loss to understand her.
She gathered up her horse’s reins. “Look, Kane. I don’t have the time or the energy to chat. I’ve got work to do.”
“Damn it, Megan. I’m trying to talk some sense into your head. Will you listen?”
“I don’t have time for you, Kane,” she muttered.
He grasped her arm and turned her so that she was facing him. “You never do. As far back as I can remember you’ve brushed me off, treated me like I’m invisible. Well, fine, maybe I was a pest when we were kids. I’ll give you that. I used to enjoy getting a reaction from you. You always were fun to tease.” He waved his hand at the windmill. “But this is serious stuff, Megan. You have no business being out here by yourself, risking your neck that way. If nobody else will tell you, then I certainly will!”
His eyes glittered with suppressed feeling.
Megan glanced away from him before saying, “I’m deeply touched by your concern for my safety. Thank you for your no doubt well-meant advice on how I manage the ranch, Kane. I’ll be sure to file it along with other words of wisdom that have come my way over the years.”
She spun away from his grip and vaulted up in the saddie.
“Hold on for a minute, will ya?” he said, laying his hand across both of hers where they held the reins. “Don’t be in such a hurry. I came lookin’ for you because there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Enough was enough! She didn’t like to be manhandled and this was the third time he’d touched her since he’d shown up, uninvited, for this little social call.
She glared at his hand and fastidiously lifted it away from hers as though it were a snake. “Really? Well, I do appreciate the effort you’ve made to indulge in a neighborly visit, but I’m afraid I’m busy. Sorry, Travis. Maybe some other time,” she added, thinking about the possibility of hell freezing over.
“What’s wrong with the windmill?” he asked, ignoring everything she’d just said to him. He’d stuck his thumbs into the back pockets of his snug-fitting jeans, nodding over his shoulder.
She didn’t have to follow his gaze. “It’s worn-out, like everything else on the place. I’m going to have to order a new part.”
“Why didn’t you have Butch check it for you? Isn’t that why you have a hired man, to do some of the more physical work around here?”
Megan wanted to scream at him, but she didn’t. She held on to her temper, which wasn’t easy, but she had learned long ago that losing her temper gave the other person the edge. She needed all the advantages possible around Travis. He had an unerring ability to get under her skin.
In a carefully even tone, she said, “It’s not your business, but I’ll tell you anyway. I was up there because the ranch is my responsibility. If there are any risks to be taken, I’ll take them. Besides, Butch is too old to be climbing around up there.”
Travis returned his gaze to her. “Better not let Butch hear you say that. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can’t do.”
Megan knew that he was right. Butch was one tough bird. “Maybe so, but I happen to know that his rheumatism has been acting up. He has no business taking chances.”
“Neither do you.”
So, they were back to that. She turned Daisy’s head and started back down the track toward the barn. “Somebody has to do it.”
“Damn it, Megan, will you wait up for a moment? I’m serious. I want to talk—”