Chapter 40
Tabby blinked, and barely had time to grab the covers around her as a statuesque redhead appeared at the top of the stairs. Gorgeous red curls tumbled down her back despite her hair being pulled back and loose corkscrew bits flying everywhere.
And boy. That complexion. Pristine, glowing. A cowboy hat perched on her head. It was well-worn, but a line of three rhinestones winked on the brim.
As for the rest of her—well, if she’d wanted to show how sexy a woman could be in a plaid, thread-bare shirt with way too many buttons undone, along with thigh and butt-molding jeans with a few dirty patches on them plus hot red cowboy boots—she was doing a superlative job.
Tabby blinked. Raine. Once more. And damnit. She was like no cowgirl or ranch rat Tabby’d ever seen. “Hello?”
The woman did a double take. “You’re not Cole.” Her green eyes flicked around the bare room, and the tone of her voice screamed demand. And the need for immediate satisfaction, apparently. She turned angry eyes on Tabby, the husky voice clawing at her. “Where you hiding him?”
A rush of feeling stormed through. Were they an item?
Of course Cole had lovers. Maybe even …a girlfriend. He’d never hinted at wanting anything exclusive with her.
It bothered her.
But so did this woman’s appraisal of her space and her pushy manner. “He’s just over in that corner over there. Behind…” Tabby’s gaze flicked to an old enameled basin resting on the floor. “…the wash-basin.”
Seeing as the washbasin was all of about seven inches high…
The redhead’s gaze shot there, then she turned those fiery eyes on Tabby, snorted. “You’re not stupid.”
Tabby shook her head, smiled, but with heat. Don’t underestimate me, sister. “Bingo.”
The woman looked her up and down, and wasn’t shy about it. Tabby’d been on many impromptu stages all her life, and of course fewer ones since the accident, but truthfully? Never on one inflicted by a woman. And this babe took everything in.
Tabby’s spirit rose angrily when the woman rested her gaze on her scars, with no morning makeup concealing them, and overtly, obviously, catalogued her condition. Weighed it, with a hint of satisfaction shimmering on her face. As if Tabby was suddenly not worth the worry.
Anger flooded her. You think I’m no threat? Well. We’ll see about that.
Done with her inquisition, the female piranha spoke. “Raine Gradney. You must be that little dust ball Cole picked up in Toronto.”
“Cole didn’t pick me up anywhere. I hired him.”
The woman pursed her lips. “Good line, sister. Good line.” She plucked a fresh piece of hay from a bale that was sitting by the staircase, placed it between her lips, and tugged it through them, those plush, plump lips closing around it. “I’d hire him for a whole lot of activities too.”
“Well, he’s not here.”
“That's obvious. If he’d been anywhere near here, and you were of interest, you wouldn’t have any clothes on to speak of.”
Tabby’s face flooded with fire, and from the raw insult. “Well, I think there are other beasts in heat around here. You might look for them downstairs.”
Shock rippled through the woman’s face, then she recovered. Flashed Tabby a self-assured grin, but there was a grain of acknowledgment in it. She smoothed her jeans down her long legs. “You’ve got one thing right, sister. I’ll be looking, but it’s not beasts I’m after. At least, not the four-legged kind.” She tipped her hat. “Good day to you.”
And she was gone.
Well. Tabby was shaking from the encounter. From the open appraisal to the self-confident dismissal of who she was. Of her significance. Were all Western women that ballsy?
No matter. She flung the covers off, did up that errant button on her jeans. Slipped her feet into the runners that he’d apparently taken off her feet just before he’d tucked her into bed. Now, she’d met the quintessential western woman, the one who, just by breathing, showed up all her inadequacies. Right?
But suddenly, she knew. She wasn’t going to lay down and admit defeat. Not to that thing.
She had things to do, fish to fry. Mountains to move. And a thundercloud of a Western woman to best.
And somehow, in among that new list of items to accomplish, she remembered the other screamingly important task. She had to find a way to make some hard, fast cash, to justify her existence on Dawson Ridges.