Page 3 of Cowhand Crush

Chapter 2

Avery

The smell of coffee greeted me in the morning, accompanied by the faint rustling of someone moving around in the kitchen. I glanced at the clock—7am. Dad would have been awake for hours by now. Birdie was probably in the middle of breakfast.

I groaned and dragged myself out of bed, stifling a yawn. After years of living at college, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to work ranch hours in Colorado, with my butt in the saddle before the crack of dawn.

Tugging my bathrobe on, I shuffled into the kitchen. I’d barely stepped into the room when Birdie pressed a hot cup of coffee into my hands.

“You’re an angel,” I said, taking a sip. Sweet, with a hint of milk and nutmeg, topped in a layer of frothy foam. Not that bitter black coffee my father insisted on drinking. “If I knew you could make coffee like this, I would have proposed to you myself.”

“I’m glad to hear someone appreciates my taste in coffee,” Birdie replied. “I’m convinced your father has killed every single one of his taste buds. He was very smug about the fact that you overslept, by the way. I’m sure he’ll be rubbing your nose in it all day.”

I swore under my breath and took a seat at the table. With a master’s degree in agricultural business under my belt, I was more than ready to get my boots on the ground and dig into the finer details of operating High Plains. Sleeping in was not the best way to convey that message.

I knew I didn’t need to prove myself—I’d already done that a dozen times over. The problem was my dad’s stubborn streak a mile wide. It was hard enough to admit that he was in his fifties, and he couldn’t do the same amount of work that he used to do when he was younger. It would be even harder for him to admit that I was growing up.

Birdie patted my hand.

“Don’t mind Grady. He’s happy to have you home. And it will take everyone some time to adjust as you settle into more management duties. Everything will work out. You’ll see. Now, get some food. Eggs and bacon are on the stove, still warm. The cook won’t be back until lunch, so make sure to eat your fill.”

As I retrieved a plate from the cupboard, I glanced at the window overlooking the barn and bunkhouse. Dad and Bowen stood by the corral, deep in conversation. At first, I felt a territorial prickle at being left out of their discussion. I was part of the ranch, after all. I needed to know what was going on.

Then my gaze swept over Bowen, with his dark mustache, jawline shadowed with stubble, broad shoulders, and soft spoken demeanor. In all the years I’d known him, I’d only heard him raise his voice once or twice. Ever since I was a little girl, I idolized him and the way he always seemed to be there. A steady, solid presence, reliable and unwavering no matter what turmoil was going on in the rest of my life. Something about Bowen’s presence had a soothing effect on me that I’d never experienced with another man before.

“What are you staring at?”

I flinched at the sound of Birdie’s voice. Caught in the act.

“Nothing.”

Hurrying to the stove, I started piling food on my plate. Birdie wasn’t dissuaded that easily. She rose from the table and headed for the window. My stomach clenched. I wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I reasoned. Bowen and my father would be discussing the ranch. It was natural for me to be curious about their conversation.

Birdie was sharp though. If anyone could sniff out a hint of my interest in Bowen, it would be her. And I wasn’t ready for that news to reach my father’s ears.

The phone rang before Birdie reached the window. When she changed directions to answer the phone, I released a breath of relief. I didn’t pay attention to the conversation until I heard my name.

“Yes, Avery is right here.” Birdie held the phone out to me. “It’s for you. He said he’s a friend from college.”

That’s odd, I thought. I never gave any of my college friends the number to my home. Setting my plate aside, I took the phone from Birdie.

“This is Avery.”

“Hey, baby.”

A cold prickle crept up my neck at the voice. I clenched my teeth, fighting to keep my expression neutral. I gestured at Birdie to indicate I would take the call somewhere else. She nodded her understanding and waved me off.

When I was down the hall a safe distance away from the kitchen, I finally spoke.

“What the fuck do you want, Isaac?”

He clucked his tongue with a chuckle that made my skin crawl.

“You blocked my number. I don’t appreciate being shut out.”

“I told you I’m not interested. End of story. Now leave me alone, or I’ll file a restraining order.”

Isaac had the nerve to laugh.