“What?” she mumbled.

He was out of the truck and pointing before she realized what he was talking about.

“The cattle on this side of the fence all have Fiddle Creek brands. There’s not a fancy blondie in the mix,” he said. “We might as well feed our herd and tell Gladys to stop walking the fence row. And, Jill, I meant what I said.”

Jill inched her phone up out of her hip pocket and called Gladys. “There’s nothing down here but Fiddle Creek cows,” she said when Gladys finally answered on the fourth ring.

“Looks like their herd, all but for one rangy old heifer, has disappeared like the Brennans’ hogs. I wonder if Wallace will be giving us a good price on beef next week.” She laughed.

“Aunt Gladys! Have you been buying stolen pork?” Jill asked.

“Wallace told me he bought those pigs fair and square, and he had the receipts to prove it,” Gladys said. “I was making a joke. Rain has probably washed away any tracks, and I’ll bet you that the fence problem up close to the road this morning was a distraction to bring all the guards to the south for help.”

“Smart Brennans,” Jill said.

“Oh, honey, Naomi Gallagher is going to shit little green apples when I make the call to tell her that her precious new breed is all gone but one heifer,” Gladys said.

“Ain’t life a bitch?” Jill hit the “end” button and turned around to find Sawyer so close that she had to put out her hands to keep from crashing into him.

His arms circled her waist, and he gazed down into her eyes. “What’s a bitch?”

“Life. Looks like the Brennans created a diversion and stole all those highbred cattle. There’s only one lonesome old heifer left over in that pasture.”

Sawyer set her up on the tailgate of the truck. “You give a damn about that heifer right now?”

She shook her head.

He lowered his lips to hers, claiming them in a blistering-hot kiss that cold afternoon. When he broke the kiss, his brown eyes still captured hers and held them without blinking. “I mean it, Jill. I like where we are headed, and I don’t want to stop, but I will slow down.”

She put a gloved hand on each of his cheeks and drew his lips to hers for another searing kiss. When she broke, her eyes bored into his. “I’m not sure what I want, but I know I don’t want to stop completely.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Let’s kick this hay off the truck and go get Gladys. Damned pig war sure has a habit of getting in my way.”

Chapter 22

There had to be more to wooing a woman than feeding cattle, minding the store, tending the bar, and sex. That wasn’t a bad combination in getting to know a woman, but now that he knew Jill, he wanted to hang the moon for her, make the stars brighter, and force daisies to grow from frozen ground.

“Shit! I forgot,” he murmured.

“You talking to me?” she asked.

Kittens scrambled over her lap, chasing each other, rolling around like clumsy wrestlers as they bit each other’s tails and ears. In the beginning, Chick was the mean girl, spitting and scaring the bejesus out of Piggy, but these days it was a pretty even match.

“I need to call my mama, or else she’ll get in her truck and drive up here,” Sawyer answered.

“I probably should call my mama too, but I’m sure that neither wild horses nor the National Guard could force her to drive to Texas, or even to fly here, though.”

Sawyer carried two cups of hot chocolate to the living area and handed one to Jill. “So she doesn’t like Texas? Do I hear a ‘but’ in your voice?”

“You do. But there’s only one love in a lifetime like what she and my dad had. She still gets misty eyed when she talks about him, and Texas reminds her of him,” Jill said.

“You think you’ll ever find that love?” Sawyer asked.

Jill thought about the question so long that he didn’t think she was going to answer, but finally she said, “Maybe I will. Do you?”

“If I think with my heart and not with my brain.” Sawyer scooped her up from the floor, amazed like always that someone with so much power and energy didn’t weigh a lot more. He buried his face in her hair and hoped the kittens didn’t get underfoot as he carried her toward his bed. “I do not plan on letting my head lead my heart ever again.”

“Me, either. Don’t forget to shut the door,” she said.

Gently, he set her on the bed, and with a few soft, well-placed kisses, he undressed her, then patted the pillow. “Welcome to Sawyer O’Donnell’s massage parlor. The hot rocks are out of commission today, but I’m available for a sixty-minute massage if the lady would like one.”

“Oh, my God, Sawyer! You didn’t tell me there was a lady in the room. Give me my clothes,” she joked.

“Then I’ll rephrase. Does this sexy, hotter’n hell spitfire of a redhead want a massage today? I could make a phone call if you’d like the ultimate in hot rocks, scented lotion, and all the fancy words in the sex-to-sexty dictionary. Would you like Tyrell or Quaid?”

She flipped over and glared at him. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“What?”

“Bring up those two names in this bedroom when I’m stark naked.” Her eyes said that she wasn’t teasing or flirting. “Now, here’s the deal. I want a massage, and I hear that hunky cowboy named Sawyer is available. But the only way he’s going to get paid is if he takes his clothes off to do my massage. Because when I get ready to pay him, I damn sure do not want to take time to undress him.”

“Your wish and all that…” He kicked off his boots, and his clothing landed somewhere near the end of the bed, a piece at a time thrown over his shoulder.

* * *

“Where did you learn to do that?” Jill moaned when he dug his thumbs into her shoulder muscles. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“I don’t knit.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry all I’ve got for lotion is this cherry-almond stuff from Walmart. I buy it because it’s the best I’ve found for my hands when they get chapped.”

“It’s my favorite,” she said.

His hands moved down her back to the rib area, turning gentle as he worked the kinks out and then harder as he massaged her butt muscles. She could farm him out and make more money than ranching. All she needed was a number machine to nail to the front porch and…suddenly a vision of Betsy lying naked on the bed popped into her mind.

“Hey, you aren’t supposed to tense up. You’re supposed to relax and let me work magic on those tired, overworked muscles,” Sawyer said.

She blinked away the image of Betsy’s face and forced herself to unwind. The Gallaghers and the Brennans were not going to spoil her Sunday evening. She didn’t give a damn if Wallace did slaughter the pigs and already had those fancy cows packaged up into hamburger meat. She had a naked cowboy giving her the best massage she’d ever had.

When Sawyer finished with her toes, he flipped her over and started back up the front side. Lord, God, almighty! She’d never be able to put lotion on her hands again without thinking of his hands as they discovered every single erogenous zone on her body. That little space between the pad of her foot and her toes, the inside of her knees, halfway up her thighs, and the soft spot where her leg attached to her body—how could they make her hormones hum like a finely tuned fiddle?

By the time he got to her aching breasts, she was fighting to keep her back straight and not arch toward him, to keep from pushing him over on his back and riding him in unabandoned hot sex. But she wanted passionate lovemaking, not a five-minute quickie.

Listeningtoyourheart,areyou? the voice in her head asked.

She floated so high above reality that she didn’t even argue or answer.

He ended the massage by kissing all her fingers, one by one, and then he settled himself on top of her, his mouth finding hers in a kiss so full of passion that all semblance of gravity escaped. She wrapped her legs around his waist and arched against him. Quickie. Two hours. All night. Five minutes. She couldn’t bear another minute without him inside her.