Читать книгу: «Fit To Be Tied»

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THIS IS THE LAST STRAW! Devlin Callahan fumed as he buried the needle of the speedometer on his pickup and barreled down the gravel road, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He did not have to put up with this nonsense! And he wasn’t going to, either. He intended to confront this problem the same way he handled every other problem—head-on—even if he had to deal with that female kook who bought the forty acres bordering the west fence of the Rocking C Ranch.

The zoo—as Devlin referred to the menagerie of exotic animals housed next to his cattle and sheep—was a constant disturbance. The zookeeper was about to get an earful, because Devlin had had it up to his eyeballs! He and his brother had spent the whole cursed day on horseback, rounding up frightened cattle and repairing broken fences. Damn it, there was enough to do on the Rocking C without unscheduled roundups.

Devlin hadn’t met his new neighbor, but he disliked her, and her zoo, sight unseen. The frustrated old biddy probably filled the emptiness in her meaningless life by surrounding herself with exotic animals that had no business whatsoever being housed in cattle country.

Slamming on the brake, Devlin skidded sideways in the loose gravel, hung a left, then smirked when the zookeeper’s antiquated two-story farmhouse came into view. The house was screaming for a coat of paint. The yard begged to be spiffed up. Devlin grudgingly admitted that the colorful flowers surrounding the foundation and gushing from the plastic pots on the porch perked up the place, but the old house definitely needed some cosmetic repairs to restore it to its former grandeur.

Of course, the female fruitcake who owned the place probably couldn’t spare the time because she was too busy talking to all those wild animals caged behind her house.

Devlin mentally kicked himself—and not for the first time—because he hadn’t purchased this property when it came up for sale eight months earlier. At the time, Devlin and his brother thought the price of the land was too steep. But Miz Jessica Porter—who was obviously clueless about property value in Oklahoma cattle country—had forked over the dough for her homestead. Now Devlin had a nutty neighbor he didn’t want and a bunch of exotic animals who roared and howled and squawked and drove his livestock through the fences.

He bounded from his pickup and stalked toward the porch. He spied the puddle-jumper sports car that was parked in the driveway. Typical city slicker, he thought. That low-slung car wouldn’t last a year on these rough country roads. Anybody with half a brain knew that. All except Miz Jessica Porter, keeper of the zoo, that is.

Devlin pounded his fist against the door, waited until he ran out of patience—which took all of two seconds—then beat on the door with both fists.

“Porter! Open up! I know you’re in there!” he shouted. “We have to talk! Now!”

His booming voice triggered the high-pitched cry of a peacock. A moose bellowed in the near distance, and a goose honked in chorus. Devlin rolled his eyes in frustration and swore inventively.

A few more seconds passed while unidentified screeches and roars erupted in the near distance. Devlin raised both fists to pound on the door again…and accidentally whacked Miz Jessica on the forehead when she whipped open the door unexpectedly.

His image of a frustrated, middle-aged spinster sporting a hooked nose, beady eyes and pointed chin dissolved when Devlin encountered a woman so astonishingly attractive he wondered if he was staring at some kind of optical illusion.

Eyes the color of a tropical rain forest zeroed in on him. Hair the color of sunbeams glistened around her enchanting face. His gaze dropped to survey an alluring figure that Hugh Hefner would kill to photograph.

Encountering Jessica Porter in the flesh was equivalent to being shot with a stun gun. This was his kooky neighbor? This was the zookeeper? No, couldn’t be. Must be some mistake.

“Porter?” he asked doubtfully.

“Yes. You bellowed, sir?”

Her snippy tone and angry glare assured Devlin that this drop-dead-gorgeous female was no pushover. She met his gaze directly and took a combative stance in the doorway. She assessed his grimy T-shirt, dusty jeans and scuffed boots and frowned in blatant disapproval.

Devlin couldn’t say why she so thoroughly disapproved of him. Could’ve been the fact that he’d pounded on her door, yelled at her, then accidentally konked her on the noggin. Or could’ve been that she didn’t like the looks of a sweaty cowboy who’d spent the day riding the range and shared his horse’s fragrance.

Sophisticated snob, Devlin concluded as he surveyed Jessica’s crimson red silk power suit that shouted expensive. He suspected she had taken one look at his faded work clothes and decided she was entirely too good for him. Well, fine. She didn’t like hardworking cowboys, and he didn’t like prissy debutantes. So they were even.

“I’m Devlin Callahan, your nearest neighbor,” he said abruptly.

“You’re my closest neighbor? How unfortunate for me.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

“That goes double for me, Blondie,” he countered, then glared at her.

Not to be outdone, she glared right back.

“I’m here because your zoo animals spooked my sheep and cattle for the fourth time in two months. You’re gonna have to load up those animals and haul them to a wildlife refuge. As you can plainly see, this is ranch country.”

Her chin shot up and, although the woman was a good eight inches shorter than Devlin, who stood six feet three inches in his riding boots, she still managed to look down her nose at him. How’d she do that?

“For your information, Culligan—”

“Callahan,” he corrected tersely.

“Whatever,” she said, dismissing him as if she had the same regard for him as for a clump of Brussels sprouts. “For your information, I have a license to house and care for my exotic animals. Each animal has its own unique personality and special need. I can communicate with them. I understand them.”

“You talk to your animals?” he asked, then scoffed. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

She glared meat cleavers at him. “I’m sure that if you toured my wildlife sanctuary even a man like you would realize that my animals are safely and securely housed and pose no threat whatsoever.”

A man like him? Devlin wasn’t sure what she implied, but her tone of voice alerted him that he had been insulted. “Lady, I don’t care if your animals have rings through their noses and bells on their toes. They are upsetting my livestock, and I want them gone. And you along with them!”

That really must have ticked her off, because she braced her fists on those curvaceous hips, planted her well-shod feet shoulder-width apart, stuck her face in his and stated, “If you don’t approve of living next door to my wildlife sanctuary, then you can pack up and move. I have no intention of budging from this spot, because I like it here, and so do my animals. Furthermore, if you have future complaints, then take them up with the sheriff in Buzzard’s Grove, not that it will do you any good.”

“Look, lady—”

“Jessica Porter. Miss Porter to you, Culligan,” she said in that snippy tone that made Devlin grind his teeth in irritation.

“Here’s the deal, lady. My brother and I run a large cattle and farming operation—”

“And I’m supposed to be impressed?” She gave him another one of those condescending looks. “Sorry to disappoint you, Culligan. Cowboys are a nickel a dozen in this neck of the woods.”

“I don’t give a rip whether or not you’re impressed,” Devlin retorted. Damn—the woman knew exactly which buttons to push! “The point is that this zoo may be fun and games to you, may fill up the endless hours in your lonely, miserable life, but our livestock is our livelihood. Your exotic animals snarl, hoot, howl and growl all hours of the day and night and cause cattle stampedes. I spent the whole livelong day gathering cattle because of your zoo. The problem can be alleviated if you’ll get rid of those menaces.”

She glowered at him good and hard. “Can I help it if your wimpy cattle and timid sheep bolt and run because of an unfamiliar noise? You don’t see my animals leaping fences just because dumb cows moo or sheep baa. My fences and pens are holding up just fine. Obviously your ability to build solid restraining fences is lacking.”

Devlin was getting nowhere fast. Miss Hoity-Toity didn’t want to see his side of the situation, didn’t care that he’d busted his butt on roundup and fence repair.

“Fine,” he muttered in exasperation. “Then you can pay for my time and the expenses, and I won’t complain—as much.”

She scoffed and looked down her nose at him again.

“Your livestock is on the rampage and you want me to pay for the fence repairs? My animals are housed in sturdy pens and cages, surrounded by twelve-feet-tall chain-link fences. It seems to me that I’m not the one with the problem here, Culligan. You are.”

“No, you are the problem!” Devlin snapped, at the end of his patience. He skewered her with a glower. “Snippy, dim-witted city slicker. Go back where you belong and take your zoo with you!”

Her chin went airborne as she squared her shoulders and clenched her fists by her sides. “This is where I belong, the only place I belong. I’m here to stay, so you better get used to the idea!” she said, puffing like a blowfish.

They exchanged significant glares, and Devlin was gearing up for a really terrific rejoinder when she slammed the door in his face.

A goose waddled around the corner of the house, honking in objection to Devlin’s presence. A bear growled in the distance, accompanied by several sounds that Devlin couldn’t identify—none of which sounded friendly. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an alligator living in that oversize pond, waiting to bite off his feet if he dared to stalk around to the back of the house.

Pond, he thought. That was another thing that really irritated him, come to think of it. That fire-breathing female had dammed up the spring-fed stream to form a gigantic pond in her pasture. The dam cut off the flow of water to Rocking C’s stream. During the arid summer months Devlin and his brother had been forced to haul water to cattle in the west pasture and fill stock tanks.

Another major inconvenience he failed to mention to the dragon lady.

Devlin had half a mind to reverse his direction, pound on the front door again and insist that she dig a trench in the pond dam. No, on second thought, he’d take the matter up with Sheriff Osborn. Maybe the dragon lady had a legitimate license to shelter exotic animals, but she certainly didn’t have the right to alter the flow of the stream and deprive Rocking C cattle of water.

Wheeling around, Devlin stalked away. The pesky goose lowered its head and charged after him, nipping and honking at his heels. Devlin ignored the feathered pest, piled into his pickup and revved the engine. He sprayed gravel on the low-slung car as he sped away—and he wouldn’t be the least bit sorry if he accidentally cracked the dragon lady’s windshield with flying rock. It would serve her right for being so stubborn.

Devlin muttered to himself as he roared toward home. His brother had recommended using diplomacy when confronting the neighbor lady. Devlin was pretty sure that wouldn’t have worked any better than his direct, confrontational approach. He had noticed the look of disapproval when Jessica Porter gave him the once-over. Hell, he’d have to have been blind in both eyes not to realize she had no use for him. That woman would not have compromised under any circumstances.

What really baffled Devlin was that, despite his irritation, he found her physically attractive. He’d caught himself staring at her body with male appreciation a couple of times during their heated argument and had to jerk his attention to her face. Which didn’t help a whole lot, because she had a bewitching face, to boot. It was humiliating for a man who usually had to fight off women with a stick to know that he liked what he saw and that Miss High and Mighty Porter behaved as if he didn’t measure up to her lofty standards.

What difference did that make? his smarting pride asked. No way would he be interested in dating Porter, not with their conflict over her exotic animals standing between them. And not that he was the teensiest bit interested, Devlin assured himself. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, okay, maybe for a nanosecond—until she’d opened her sassy mouth and let the wisecracks and zingers fly.

Glancing at his watch, Devlin made tracks toward home. It was his brother’s night to cook, and Derrick got bent out of shape when Devlin was late. The Wednesday night menu at Rocking C was always the same: hamburger patties smothered in cream of mushroom soup, fried potatoes and okra. Devlin would have preferred cooked goose—specifically, the one that had appointed itself as Jessica Porter’s guard dog.

Devlin glanced at the cattle herd grazing in the pasture, wondering if he’d wake up in the morning to another stampede. Jessica Porter’s coyotes would probably be howling at the moon, causing the rest of the zoo to join in chorus. The cattle would be to hell and gone by sunrise, Devlin predicted.

He sighed heavily. Tomorrow would undoubtedly test his patience once again.

“STUBBORN, PIGHEADED COWBOY,” Jessica muttered as she doffed her business suit, then snatched up her jeans and T-shirt.

The very last thing she’d needed, after dealing with an unreasonable, demanding client at her accounting office, was to confront her annoying neighbor. She had lived in this community for almost six months, and not once had Devlin Callahan dropped by to welcome her. Oh, no, the jerk hadn’t bothered to set foot on the place until he came to complain and shout ultimatums at her.

It hadn’t helped that Jessica encountered Devlin immediately after opening her credit card statement to discover that her two-timing ex-fiancé had charged a Caribbean cruise, for two, to her account. Damn the man! No, damn all men in general, she corrected bitterly. Why not? Every frustration she’d dealt with during the course of the day had come at the hands of the male of the species.

“Hell of a day, Jess,” she said to herself as she exited her bedroom and trotted down the staircase. There was one surefire way to lighten her black mood, and that was to wander among the exotic animals that had become her charges.

Jessica smiled fondly when her guard goose greeted her on the back porch and performed its usual head-dipping ritual. The goose followed her across the lawn to retrieve feed from the barn. With each step Jessica took toward the pens and cages in the distance, the day’s tension drained away. Despite what Devlin Callahan presumed, these animals could not be returned to the wilds because of their handicaps and special needs. They needed her, she reminded herself, and that cowboy with the attitude wasn’t going to force her to relocate them.

Jessica’s lifelong love of animals and her tendency to pick up strays had become a crusade during her post-college years in Tulsa, where she had learned the ropes of the accounting business. Her high-dollar salary had allowed her to purchase acreage to house her exotic animals, but the generous offer from an industrial corporation convinced her to sell the property and relocate. Jessica had quadrupled her investment and decided to move to the laid-back hamlet of Buzzard’s Grove to establish her own accounting office.

The decision hadn’t been difficult because there were no close family ties to consider, only a few friends from the office who had their own families and personal lives.

Then, of course, there was her ex-fiancé—the hotshot Triple-A baseball star whose idea of a road trip included notching his bedpost with different women from different cities. It was only by accident that Jessica discovered Rex’s womanizing tendencies and promptly canceled their engagement. Humiliated, outraged, Jessica had packed up her animals and moved to the country. Unfortunately, Rex the ex had the last laugh when he billed charges to her credit card.

First thing in the morning, Jessica intended to cancel her MasterCard and contact American Express. She was not paying for Rex’s getaways again.

Jessica inhaled a breath of fresh country air, exhaled slowly and told herself to get a grip. Rex was history. She’d played the naive fool once, but never again. She vowed to avoid those macho, chauvinistic jock types—like her disagreeable neighbor. Just because she found Devlin Callahan physically appealing, what with his shock of raven hair, midnight-black eyes, broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles and horseman’s thighs, didn’t mean she was the slightest bit interested in getting involved with him. Besides, she needed to channel her time and energy into making a success of her business venture, refurbishing the house and providing care for her animals.

Jessica had known the moment she laid eyes on this forty-acre plot, with its rolling hills and thick groves of cottonwoods, elms and redbud trees, that she had finally found a place that felt like home. She had spent most of her life leaving behind what took forever to become comfortable and familiar. But she had known instinctively that she could happily put down roots here.

A sense of peace stole over her as she strode from one pen to the next, greeting and feeding her many charges. The brown bear she called Teddy performed his swaying ritual, then hobbled forward on his gimpy leg to devour the food Jessica placed in his pen. Each animal had its own way of greeting her, its special traits, that made her feel as if she was visiting with a dear friend.

Thoughts of her fussy client, Edgar Stokes, her aggravating neighbor and her traitorous ex skittered off in the evening breeze. Ah, yes, country life was the life for her. These maimed animals depended on her. Like Jessica, they were outcasts that didn’t quite fit into society. That was okay, Jessica consoled herself. She had accepted the fact that she was an outsider, a misfit. But she and her unusual pets had settled into these wide-open spaces, and life was good.

Mother Goose honked, jolting Jessica from her pensive musings. “Not to worry, Mother, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

With the plump white goose waddling at her heels, Jessica ambled into the barn to scatter grain for her feathered friend. By the time Jessica returned to the house to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave her mood had brightened considerably. She wondered if her grouchy neighbor’s mood had eased after their heated encounter. Not that she cared if he left mad and stayed that way. All she cared was that he left and never came back.

Fact was that Devlin Callahan’s appearance triggered bitter memories of the time when she had fallen for a handsome face and muscled body. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Until she met a man who was willing to give as much as he took, someone who wasn’t interested in the tidy sum of money she’d made when she sold her property on the outskirts of Tulsa, she planned to avoid men, especially the ones who looked as if they stepped off a poster for Tall, Dark and Handsome. No, sirree, she wasn’t going to fall for some hunk of a cowboy who had the disposition of a wounded rhinoceros.

Lord, she still couldn’t believe that idiotic man tried to blame his problem with his flighty cattle on her, expected her to pay for his time and expenses. What unmitigated gall he had!

Refusing to give Devil Devlin another thought, Jessica shoved her frozen dinner in the microwave, then pivoted to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea.

DERRICK CALLAHAN slopped three hamburger patties, swimming in cream soup, on his plate, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps that heralded his brother’s arrival. “’Bout time. I decided not to wait any longer. I have a date tonight and I have no intention of showing up late just because you can’t get your sorry butt back here on time.”

“Date? In the middle of the week?” Devlin inquired as he plucked up his plate for the buffet-style meal sitting on the counter.

“Yeah? So?” Derrick challenged. “What’s the matter with that? People do date on weekdays, you know.”

“Only if they’re getting serious.” Devlin scooped up a large helping of fried okra, then moved on to the bowl of fried potatoes. “You and that new restaurant owner getting serious, are you?”

“Maybe,” Derrick mumbled noncommittally, then pivoted toward the oblong oak table that sat in the middle of the spacious dining area. He used his free hand to scrape scattered mail out of his way, then plopped down on a chair. “So, how did your encounter go with the neighbor lady?”

Devlin might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew a diversion tactic when he heard one. His brother didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassie Dixon, the vivacious brunette whose new café was the talk of the town. The fact that Derrick wanted to keep his relationship with Cassie a secret from his own brother, his only living relative, suggested that Derrick was already in over his head and sinking fast. Not that Devlin blamed his brother. Cassie Dixon had class, style and personality—unlike the female fruitcake with the attitude who lived down the road.

“Well?” Derrick prompted.

Devlin glanced up from his heaped plate. “Well, what?”

“Did you convince our neighbor to relocate her zoo so it won’t disturb our livestock?”

“No, she slammed the door in my face after lambasting me with insults,” Devlin grumbled as he grabbed his fork. “The woman has a chip the size of Mount Rushmore on her shoulder, and her brain is obviously solid rock. There’s no getting through to her, not without a jackhammer and dynamite.”

Derrick rolled his eyes, then stared at his brother. “In other words, you used your standard, give-’em-hell approach and butted heads with her. I distinctly remember telling you to use diplomacy.”

“Diplomacy wouldn’t have done any good,” Devlin said.

Derrick shook his head and sighed audibly. “It is totally beyond me why you didn’t use your lady-killer smile and charm on her. There isn’t an eligible female in Buzzard County who can resist you when you turn on the charm. You shouldn’t have gone over to the neighbor’s house while you were hot under the collar. I tried to tell you to wait until you’d cooled off. But no, you climbed off your horse after roundup and blazed off. I know how you operate, Dev. When in doubt you start yelling, as if that ever solves problems. It almost never works with women. Next time, try being tactful.”

The last thing he needed was a lecture from his brother, who had a history of leaving the difficult situations for Devlin to solve. Diplomacy? Hell!

“There won’t be a next time,” Devlin muttered crankily. “If you think the charming, chivalrous approach will work—and I’ll bet money that it won’t—then you can march your candy butt over there and try to reason with her. After all, you’ve got the identical smile and more charm than I do.”

Derrick threw up his hand like a traffic cop. “Me? No way. Just because we’re identical twins doesn’t mean I’m going over there after you screwed up. She’ll take one look at me and think I’m you. I’ll get nowhere.”

“Well, she started it with her snide remarks,” Devlin said self-righteously. “But I’ll admit that it didn’t help when I accidentally smacked her right between the eyes when she abruptly opened the door.”

Derrick groaned in dismay. “Well, there you go. What do you expect? If it had been me—” he tapped himself proudly on the chest “—I would have politely rung the doorbell, not hammered on the door. The accident would never have happened.”

Devlin bared his teeth and glared at his twin. The thing about being an identical twin was that you never felt as if you had your own individuality, especially when you had to sit across the table every night and work side by side every day. Especially when Derrick was forever handing out free advice, just because he was all of three minutes older and considered himself twice as smart.

“I swear, Dev, you turned cantankerous after you went ape over that prissy redhead a few years back.”

“Don’t remind me,” Devlin grumbled. “I got my heart trampled while you glided merrily from one woman to the next…until Cassie Dixon showed up in town and turned your brain into Malt-O-Meal.”

Derrick scowled at the insult.

Devlin scowled back.

“Okay, so I didn’t get my heart broken at the tender age of twenty-five.”

“Exactly my point, Derr. You aren’t jaded and cynical. You’re better prepared for dealing with Jessica Porter and the zoo. The woman is easy on the eye, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. You need to get over there and talk some sense into her before those squalling, bellowing zoo animals scatter our livestock to kingdom come.”

“Our neighbor lady is attractive?” Derrick asked.

“A regular knockout,” Devlin confirmed, then munched on potatoes. “You probably won’t open your mouth and say the wrong thing. You can sweet-talk her into being reasonable, even if she thinks you’re me. In fact, you two might even hit it off—”

“Oh, no,” Derrick loudly objected. “That’s the last thing I need right now. I’ve got a good thing going with Cassie and I’m not about to screw it up. I’m not getting within a mile of the neighbor’s house, for fear that Cassie might get the wrong idea.”