Spurs 'n Surrender (Operation Cowboy Book 2)(37)

Too bad he had flatulence—of the mouth, that is.

She’d tried to teach him a lesson. And she’d thought he was done treating her like a prissy beauty queen and had started seeing her as… Well it didn’t matter. He wasn’t the man for her, no matter how wild he drove her.

Danica grabbed a shovel, threw her overprotective husband a look and started on a pile of manure.

Anya watched for a second. The woman Wydell thought Anya was wouldn’t touch manure with somebody else’s shovel, but she couldn’t let her new friend tackle that heavy, stinking heap alone. Especially pregnant.

When she stepped up to the pile, Danica waved her back. “You’re not dressed for this. Your boots!”

Wydell swung around to see what she was doing. Raising her chin a notch, Anya planted one boot right into the manure.

Danica plastered her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. Anya smiled. Yeah, her boots were damn expensive, but she hadn’t bought such flashy footwear. They’d been a gift from her momma. She’d never cared much for them, but something had told her to pack them in the Airstream before heading for Los Vista. Turned out they’d come in handy.

Wydell gave her a burning look, similar to the ones he’d given her in bed…or when fucking her on the kitchen counter or rolling in the grass.

She dug her shovel deep, lifted it and tossed. At that moment, Wydell approached her. Cow patties struck him square in the shins and tumbled to rest on his boots.

She stopped. Danica laughed, but Wydell kept coming.

Anya steeled her legs to keep from running away. She might have been pretending to be exactly what he believed she was, but she wanted to prove another point to her new friends. She could work as hard as the next person, and she was damn well going to.

For long minutes she shoveled while Wydell looked on, a groove between his brows. She shoveled faster. The pain in her hands began as a slight sting. But after she’d attacked half the pile, she tested her grip. Peeling her hand off the shovel hurt like a son of a bitch. She winced and gripped the handle again.

Though not before Wydell spotted the blood.

“Dammit, woman.” He was on her in a blink. With more gentleness than a man of his size and strength should be able to show, he pried her fingers off the wood. She hissed.

Danica sucked in a breath. “Oh no. I never thought about you not having gloves, Anya. Come into the house. I’ve got a first aid box.”

“I know where it’s at.” Wydell’s tone brooked no argument. He dropped the shovel and encircled Anya’s wrist with his big fingers. Then he led her toward the house.

She tugged to be released. “I’m not a child. I can walk without you holding onto me.”

Throwing a dark glare over his shoulder, he continued to pull her along.

He’s a hard ass, all right. Stubborn, insufferable man.

The interior of the Bell ranch was cool and homey, with rustic accents sprinkled with a woman’s touch. On the side table was a framed pregnancy test. A longing rose up in Anya.

She stopped dragging her heels and followed Wydell into the kitchen. He jerked his head toward the table. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog for you to order around.”

He pushed out a sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face. The rasping noise of callus on beard scruff ignited her. If her hands didn’t hurt so much, they’d be all over him.

“Dammit, stop looking at me that way so I can fix your blisters.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just worried about my manicure.”

“Anya.” His warning tone almost made her giggle. She bit her lips to keep from smiling while he stomped to a cabinet and found a plastic box filled with bandages and ointments.

As he tenderly took her palm into his and turned it over, he blanched. “Fucking hell, woman, why didn’t you wear gloves?”

“I didn’t have any with rhinestones.”

He narrowed his eyes, and her laugh slipped out.

“Okay, fine. I never thought of it. I’m dressed like this to show you that I really can be a primped beauty queen.”

“I caught on.”

Suddenly she realized she still had her boots on. Alarm crossed his features. Wydell looked concerned. “Am I hurting you? Crap, Anya.”

“No, no. It’s my boots. I walked through Danica’s clean house with manure on my boots.”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Hell, Danica does it herself. This is a working ranch and a ranch family lives here, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

“They’ll worry when they have a baby crawling around on the floor.”

“I’m sure.” He held a tube of ointment over her raw hands. “Now keep still. I don’t want to hurt you more.” As he squeezed goo onto her hands and then took a swab and spread it liberally over both of them, she watched his face. A lump formed in her throat and by the time he finished, she wanted to curl up against his chest and let him protect her from everything.

But he couldn’t. Especially when he shared some uncharitable opinions. His words early this morning had irritated her, but she’d scoffed them off as teasing…until she’d sat down with a plate of eggs benedict and opened her hometown newspaper on her tablet—only to find a snarky article about her efforts in the town of Los Vista.