Making my way into the first stall, I shoved the bedding fork under the dirty bedding a little harder than necessary and worked my way down the row, teeth clenched as I flung a mess of shavings and manure into the wheelbarrow. Sweat beaded at the back of my neck, partly from the growing heat of the day and partly from the simmering irritation I couldn’t seem to shake. My internal tirade came to a screeching halt when a horrified scream cracked through the air like a gunshot.
My stomach dropped.
Something in that scream shattered all my logic and had me dropping the bedding fork and sprinting out of the barn as my eyes frantically scanned the yard. My heart pounded faster than I’d admit to anyone as I looked around…and there she was—the stray—bolting away from the chicken coop like her boots were on fire.
“What the hell happened?” I shouted.
She skidded to a stop, breathing hard as she whirled on me and clutched her chest. “Thatthingjust tried to kill me!”
Jesus.I wanted her gone, notdead. I jogged over to where she stood, still trying to catch her breath as my eyes raked over her, looking for blood or bite marks. “What thing?”
Her eyes met mine in a flash of fear and rage. “Chante!” she snapped, pointing at the coop.
My entire body deflated at once. Not a rattler. Not a copperhead. Just the damn rooster.
For a second, I’d actually thought she’d come face to face with one of those egg-stealers. I’d been surprised more times than I liked by one of them curled up in the nesting boxes, and I’d be lying now if I said the thought of her getting bit hadn’t damn near knocked the breath out of me. But I wasn’t about to go all soft now.
Releasing a loaded breath, I closed the distance between us. She stood there with her chest rising and falling fast, one hand buried in her wild mess of dark hair like she was trying to pull herself together. Her cheeks were flushed, lips parted, and her eyes—wide, angry, and a little shaken—locked with mine like she was daring me to make a joke. And I almost did, but then her bottom lip quivered, and anything I could’ve said then died before it even reached my lips.
Keeping my mouth shut, I walked up to her, prepared to wave the proverbial white flag, for just a moment, and make sure she was truly okay. But the way she gripped that wire egg basket,like she was fully prepared to clock me with it, dissolved any chance of that. I stepped up to her and she gasped as I took the basket from her hand. Before she could even blink or come up with a protest, I turned and headed straight into the coop. Satan himself—our mean-ass rooster—flapped his wings at me, but I shot him a glare and kept moving. Five minutes later, I was back outside with a basket full of eggs.
“If you can’t handle something as simple as collecting eggs,” I bit out, shoving the basket back into her hands, “how the hell do you expect to help with anything else?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and stalked back toward the barn, pissed off all over again. Not just at her. At myself for letting my guard down.
“You’re a real jerk, you know!”
The corner of my mouth lifted. Not out of amusement. But because of the sheer audacity. I stopped and slowly turned my head to glare at her from over my shoulder.
Her entire body went rigid the second the words left her mouth, almost like she was bracing for whatever I was about to verbally throw back at her. Her eyes flicked away from mine, filled with the kind of regret that came too little, too late.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me names on my property.”
“I just don’t get why you hate me so much.”
“Because you’re a complete stranger,” I fired back, turning around fully now to face her. “A stranger who showed up out of nowhere and suddenly has my entire family bending over backward to make you comfortable. AndI’mthe jerk because I’m not kissing your ass, too?”
“So…I’m a problem because your family is nice?” She let out a humorless laugh. “You act like I planned this whole thing. Make a wrong turn, check. Mess up my dad’s car, check. Secure a guest room on a ranch with some of the nicest people I’ve ever met,check. Constantly catch hell from a grumpy-ass cowboy every time I so much as breathe wrong around him, check and check.”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped in closer, but her eyes didn’t flinch this time. “You think this is a joke?”
“No,” she said evenly. “But I do think you have one hell of a chip on your shoulder that hasnothingto do with me.”
“You don’t know me,” I snapped.
She huffed a laugh. “Right back at ya,cowboy.”
“I know enough.”
“Oh yeah?” she challenged, folding her arms as the egg basket dangled on her fingertips. “Then by all means, enlighten me. Since you’ve got me all figured out.”
“You’re hiding something.”
Her expression faltered, just barely. “So what if I am? Ever think maybe it’s none of your damn business?”
“It is when you’re sleeping under my mother’s roof.”
She stared at me for a second, then...smirked?
