“No. Like I’d ask you for advice, you f**kin’ pervert,” she retorted. “Hank’d castrate you if you laid a hand on me.”
“True. It’d feel incestuous, bein’s I’ve known you since you were toddling around in diapers.”
“Story of my life. I’m trying to make up for lost booty time, since all the hot, hunky cowboys I grew up around refuse to see me as a woman. But I’m changin’ that. Just you watch.”
Bran frowned. Sounded like Celia had a specific cowboy in mind.
Before he could demand names or remind her to be careful, she said, “Look, here’s the deal. I know you’re busting ass, doin’ everything yourself since Les’s accident.”
“And?”
“And I know from talking to Hank that no one’s applied for the job as your temporary hired hand.”
A freak accident with an ornery bull had left Bran’s hired man, Les, with a busted hip and out of commission during the busiest part of the year in the cattle business. It sucked on a number of levels. Not only did he feel guilty about Les’s injury, but he couldn’t permanently replace the guy while he was healing up. Which meant whoever Bran hired would have the job only until Les was back on his feet.
Muddy Gap wasn’t exactly a hotbed of job prospects—even when the job paid well. Word of mouth among his friends and other ranchers hadn’t yielded any applicants. Putting an ad in the Muddy Gap Gazette, which reached four other communities? That was pointless too. Not a single man had applied. Bran had resigned himself to doing everything alone and just dealing with the exhaustion.
“Bran? Did you fall asleep?” Celia demanded.
“No. Just trying to figure out what you’re up to.”
“Why are you so suspicious when I’m just bein’ a good neighbor?”
He snorted. “Because I know you, Celia. You lie.”
“I do not! Name one time.”
“How about all those times you kept the fact you were competitively barrel racing a secret from your brothers? For over three years?”
“Which only means I’m good at keeping secrets from people I love for their own good,” she replied sweetly.
“You are very manipulative, especially if you get something out of it.”
“I am not! Name one time I’ve manipulated you.”
“How about right now?”
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I totally understand that you don’t trust me. I’m a little hurt that you think I’d take advantage of you to somehow benefit myself.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ll get over that sting of hurt,” he drawled. “I’ve no doubt whatever scheme you’re up to will have some added benefit for you. So why don’t you quit playing the part of the insulted maiden and tell me what’s what.”
“You know . . . I don’t think I will tell you that I found you a hired hand, Mr. Smart-ass.”
That made him sit up and take notice. “No joke?”
“No joke. I swear. That’s why I called you.”
“Where’d you find him?”
“Don’t you worry about that. Drop your c**k and grab your socks, Bran. Your new hired hand will be on your front stoop within the hour.” The phone went dead.
Bran glared at his cell phone. “Son of a bitch. When I get my hands on that girl, I’ll . . .”
You ain’t gonna do jack shit, hoss. You’re gonna get your ass in the shower, brew a pot of coffee, and wake the hell up.
Still cursing, Bran threw back the covers and stumbled down the hallway to his bathroom.
Harper pounced on the phone the second it rang. “Celia?”
“Good news! I found you a job, right outside of Muddy Gap. It might have funky hours the first few weeks, but after that it should level off. It pays well.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. You’ll be workin’ on a ranch.”
“What will I be doing?”
“Whatever Bran tells you to do.”
Harper froze. Her mouth went bone-dry. “Bran. As in Bran Turner?”
“Yep. He’s a longtime family friend, his hired hand got injured, and he’s needing temporary help.”
Skeptically, Harper asked, “How’d the guy get injured?”
“I dunno. Between us, Les is not that bright. I think he tripped over his own two feet. Anyway, he’s out of commission until the end of May, which fits into your time frame perfectly.”
“Too perfectly. You sure this isn’t some kind of romantic fix-up?”
Celia laughed. “You and Bran? Please. You are so not his type. And vice versa. This is just me helping out two friends who need something from each other.”
Harper stopped pacing. “Bran’s okay with this?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask the real question: Does Bran know I have zero experience with livestock and anything else related to ranching?
“I just got off the phone with him. He’s expecting you in about forty-five minutes.” Pause. “You know where he lives?”
“No clue.”
“Three miles past the turnoff to my house, there’s a fish-shaped mailbox. Turn right at the cattle guard and go a quarter mile until you see his trailer. He keeps the road plowed. That’s how you’ll know you’re in the right place.”
“Got it.” Harper closed her eyes. “Thanks, Celia. Even if this doesn’t work out, you have no idea how much it means that you’ve gone out of your way to try to help me. Everyone else . . .” Has made me pay for my mother’s mistakes.