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A tiny moo greeted her, and the calf stood and tried to back further into the corner. Fritz and David had brought it home with them Sat.u.r.day evening. They'd found it alone under a serviceberry bush. Its mother was found some distance away, her udder dry. She hadn't fed her baby in quite some time. They figured the little bull had survived by stealing drinks from other cows in the herd. The calf was small enough Fritz was able to carry him over his saddle back to the horse trailer.
Chanel knelt. "I know you've been through a lot, and this is kinda scary." She gently shook the bottle in front of her. The slos.h.i.+ng of the milk replacer made the calf raise his head a little higher, eyes wide with interest, clearly remembering where his last meal had come from. He emitted another thin low and then slowly walked toward Chanel. She sat still and let the animal come to her. He sniffed the nipple with his damp black nose; hunger beat fear, and he took it eagerly.
"There you go," Chanel said. She released a contented sigh and tipped the bottle higher and held on tight as the hungry little fella slurped, occasionally thrusting into the bottle as if it was his mother's udder.
Maddox rounded the corner of the shop to find Chanel backing a huge green tractor out of a bay. The tires towered over his head, and he noticed she drove the machine with confidence-just like she'd hooked his car up to the truck yesterday and popped it out of the ditch. It was stupid, but her competence irked him. The fact that he was hungry and tired didn't help his mood either. Was staying on the team really worth this c.r.a.p?
Chanel swung out of the small cab and hopped to the ground, landing with ease. "Nice of you to join me."
Forking his fingers through his tangled hair, Maddox remembered that Mitch hadn't given him any time to eat or swallow some coffee. Not to mention, he hadn't had time to brush his teeth or hair. h.e.l.l, he hadn't even been allowed to fish a ball cap out of his duffle. Yesterday's easygoing cowboy had stomped into his room beating on a frying pan with a wooden spoon. Startled from deep sleep, Maddox had shot straight up and tried to jump out of bed. His legs had been tangled in the sheets, though, and he'd fallen on the hard wood floor.
"When I say be at work at seven, I mean seven. Not a minute later. Get dressed. I'll wait in the living room," Mitch said before stomping back out of the bedroom. When Maddox stepped out of the room, Mitch opened the front door and escorted him to the edge of the yard and then pointed him toward the shop to find Chanel.
He wasn't about to apologize to this girl, so he clenched his jaw and waited for her to start issuing orders. She arched an eyebrow at him, her eyes locked on his. Maddox knew he'd win this staring contest.
Finally, she said, "We're a week late getting the hay in. That's going to be your job for the next while."
"K."
"So, climb up." Chanel gestured toward the tractor impatiently. "We don't have time to waste."
Annoyed, he hurried over to the idling tractor and made to skip the first tiny step leading to the cab, planning to use his muscular arms to pull himself up, but his foot slipped on the second step, causing him to lose his grip. Maddox bit back a curse when his s.h.i.+n smacked the metal edge. Heat flamed on his cheeks, and he resisted the urge to look back and see if Chanel had seen his foible. Swallowing his pride, he used the stupid stair and climbed into the tractor and settled on the seat. It was dusty, and there were levers and b.u.t.tons all over the place. Not a mechanical kind of guy, he sighed. One more thing he didn't know, but there was no way he was going to fess up to Chanel.
She s.h.i.+mmied into the small s.p.a.ce and settled on the seat's armrest. Her thigh pressed firmly against his shoulder. Maddox's heart raced at her touch, and he could smell the sweet fragrance from her shampoo. He imagined pulling the elastic band from her ponytail and sending that dark blonde hair tumbling- "Hey!"
The word cut into his fantasy, and he snapped to attention, sitting straighter in the seat.
"We need to get going. There's a lot of ground to cover. Now, press in on the clutch with your left foot and-"
"I know how to drive a stick," Maddox snapped. "That's what my car is."
"And we all know how well you drive that."
Their eyes locked for a moment, but Maddox looked away first, slamming his foot down on the clutch. He grabbed the lever that looked most like a gears.h.i.+ft and ground it into first while stomping on the gas pedal. The tractor lurched to life, bouncing Chanel off the armrest and into his lap.
Surprised, Maddox took his feet off the pedals, and the machine died with a shudder. Chanel scrambled like a turtle on its back trying to get out of his lap. Their arms were tangled, and as Maddox tried to extract his from hers, the back of his hand grazed her b.o.o.b. They both froze.
"That was an accident," Maddox said.
Chanel's cheeks went red. "I know," she said shoving hard against his chest to heave herself off his legs.
He couldn't decide if he wanted to leap from the cab, hightail it to his car, and get the h.e.l.l out of this place or pull her back down in his lap and kiss those pouty lips.
She didn't give him much time to debate. "Try it again. Just ease on and off the pedals. We'll take a couple laps around the shop before hooking up the seeder."
Once again, Maddox put his feet on the pedals but with more care. Despite his effort, the tractor hopped forward and died. This time Chanel was ready and gripping the handle above the door. A giggle edging on hysterical erupted from her throat. Maddox cast her a frustrated look that made her clap a hand over her mouth.
"Just a little higher geared than my car," he grumbled.
Chanel snorted and pinched her nose. "Sorry," she said in a nasal voice.
"It's not funny. Maybe you should suit up and go out on the football field and see how you do. You've done this," Maddox gestured around the cabin, "your whole d.a.m.n life."
Maddox turned the key and the tractor belched to life. He pressed the gas and lifted the clutch. The tractor bounced twice and then rolled forward. Neither spoke as he took a lap around the shop. He brought the tractor to a smooth stop at the rear of the building and lifted a blond eyebrow at Chanel as he s.h.i.+fted into neutral and set the brake.
"Should we attach that seeder now?"
"Uh, yeah. I think you're ready. Let's swap spots, and I'll back up to it."
Chanel tucked her legs up to allow Maddox room to rise from the driver's seat. She wiggled over the armrest, her face almost touching his stomach on the way past. He swore she took a deep inhale like she was smelling him, and he hated that he kinda liked it.
Maddox hovered in between the seat and the door and raised his eyebrows at her nodding at the armrest. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Think I'll jump out."
"Good idea. I'll show you how to hook it up once I get backed up."
Ten minutes later, Maddox was back in the driver's seat with Chanel on the armrest, the seeder rolling along behind them.
"We'll start with the Slow Creek Field," Chanel said pointing to the field on the left about a quarter mile from the headquarters. Maddox carefully angled the tractor into a wide turn so he could hit the gateway. He was getting a feel for the tractor. When he stopped, she climbed out to open the gate. Once through, Chanel directed him to the far right edge of the field. Then she showed him how to engage the hydraulics that would activate the seeder.
"Now just take it slow. The seeds will roll through the machine and be driven into the ground with little spikes. Then a layer of soil will be raked over the top," she said as they chugged along. "I'll ride with you for the first couple pa.s.ses just to make sure you're comfortable."
"I got it," Maddox said, his voice sharp. He needed some s.p.a.ce. She was driving him crazy with her bossy chatter; yet, she smelled so good, his senses were overwhelmed. Besides, planting hayseeds wasn't rocket science.
When he finally looked at her, he was met with a grim stare. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brows drawn in.
"Seriously," he said. "I drive back and forth all day. I'm not an idiot."
"I didn't say you were," Chanel replied coolly.
Maddox turned his gaze back to the winds.h.i.+eld, shaking his head.
"What's your problem?"
"Nothing." He continued to stare straight ahead.
"We have to spend a lot of time together this summer, so if you have an issue, let's take care of it now."
Maddox looked over at her, his blue eyes narrowed, jaw still clenched. "It has nothing to do with you."
"You acting like an jerk around me makes it my deal. The fact you're working on my dad's ranch makes it my deal."
"It's summer. I should be sleeping right now. This afternoon I should be hitting the waves. This," he waved his hand indicating the tractor and everything around them, "is bulls.h.i.+t."
"Then why are you here?" Chanel maneuvered herself so her back was to the door and her face was inches from his.
Maddox shrugged. "I want to play this fall."
"And you sulking on my family's ranch helps you do that how?"
"According to Coach, I'm not a team player. Not putting in my time. That team would be c.r.a.p without me!" Maddox thumped the steering wheel, making Chanel jump in surprise.
"I out block half of the O line and outscore the receivers. I don't need to spend hours watching tape and running drills. I know my job, and I do it."
"Apparently everyone doesn't see it that way, and now, out here you don't know your job, and you have to suck it up and learn." She studied him for a moment, but he tried to ignore her stare and focus on the empty field in front of him. "You're only the best until the next one comes along. I'd think if football was so important to you you'd know that and do everything you could to hang onto your position."
"According to Coach, I have no work ethic. I can't believe my parents allowed him to force me out here." He wasn't going to let her win this argument.
"As I recall, you drove yourself."
A movement in the field caught Maddox's eye, and he slammed on the brakes sending Chanel onto the dash.
"s.h.i.+t!" He killed the engine and stood to fish her off the control panel. "Are you okay?"
"What. Was. That?" She rubbed her head where it had hit the winds.h.i.+eld and shot daggers at him with her eyes. "You could have killed me! Thank G.o.d we weren't going any faster."
"I don't know! I didn't want to hit it!" Maddox pointed out the side window where a doglike figure was galloping toward the edge of the field.
She started to laugh, and a couple tears leaked from her eyes. "It's just a coyote. They're a dime a dozen out here. Trust me. It wouldn't stand still long enough for you to hit it. It's our dogs you need to watch out for, especially when we mow hay later this summer. They're hard to see when the alfalfa is tall."
Maddox glared at her, his sympathy for launching her into the winds.h.i.+eld, gone. "Why do you think everything I do is so funny?"
"Because you're c.o.c.ky. It's time you got over yourself and learned to work. Sorry, but I agree with your coach."
"I should've been drafted by now, but that sorry excuse of a team drops my stock."
"So play somewhere else."
"It's not that simple," Maddox shot back.
"You guys jump around all the time. Let me guess, no one else will take you? Maybe most coaches want someone who can be coached."
Maddox slumped in his seat, arm draped across the steering wheel. "This is my last chance to stay on the team."
"Then you better learn how to work for it. You can take a break around noon for lunch." Chanel opened the door and jumped out and started walking toward headquarters.
CHAPTER FIVE.
Stars were just beginning to pop out in the twilight sky. Fresh from the shower, Chanel padded in her bare feet onto the back deck overlooking the horse pasture. She exhaled a contented sigh and settled into an Adirondack chair, propping her feet up on the railing.
Mitch was holed up in his office doing paperwork. He spent almost as much time at his desk as he did in the saddle. A horse snorted in the growing darkness, and Chanel drew her hoodie a little closer around her. Nights remained chilly up here until well into June.
Looking down at the cordless phone in her hand, she thought about her day with Maddox. Chanel dialed the familiar number. Every summer she had to readjust to life without the instant gratification of texting.
"h.e.l.lo?" The feminine voice on the other end sounded suspicious.
"Hey, Bert. Sorry to call so late," Chanel said.
"It's you!"
Chanel laughed. "Of course it's me." She pictured her best girlfriend and roommate from the last three years, Roberta Gregory, holed up in a studio apartment in New York City. With her short, black spiky hair and always-polished makeup and clothes, she was Chanel's opposite. They even referred to themselves as the city and country mice. Bert was from Boise, which was far from being an urban metropolis, but even that was more city than Chanel could handle.
"I'm always afraid it's going to be your dad from this number telling me you got pecked to death by a chicken or eaten by a bear. What took you so long to call?"
"Just busy. I hit the ground running. There's always so much to do, and you know, the phone works both ways."
"Touche. It's so weird not to hear from you throughout the day."
Chanel smiled at the night sky. She missed being able to contact Bert and Seth whenever she wanted, but at the same time, it was nice to spend a couple of months disconnected.
"Same here. So, are you all settled over there?"
"It's so great! I really wish you'd come visit me this summer. I have a little apartment above a Chinese deli. I feel like I'm in s.e.x and The City! Oh, and the place I'm interning is so cool. I know it's only been one day, but all the clothes, the people...although I did have to take someone's purse dog on a walk today, but hey, it can't be glamorous every second. We have a photo shoot coming up really soon. I'm so excited about that!"
Chanel could picture her friend's bright green eyes dancing with excitement and smiled at her rambling. Of the two of them, Bert was the gusher. She'd dreamed of designing clothes in New York, and now it was happening, for the summer at least. One of her professors had helped her get an interns.h.i.+p with a top design company.
"I wish you'd come see me out here." Chanel said it every summer, but her city loving friend just couldn't bring herself to get that far from civilization. Although, Chanel had to admit, she had some curiosity when it came to New York City. Her great-grandmother on her mother's side had loved the place. She loved the Broadway plays, shopping, and people watching. She'd taken Margo as a high school graduation present, and her mother had adored the place. Margo purchased a small bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume because she said it smelled like New York. Chanel sometimes wondered if her mother would have moved there if she hadn't fallen in love with Mitch. She always thought it seemed somewhat wistful that she'd been named after the perfume.
Bert ignored Chanel's comment. "They have horses here you, know. They're all over the place in Central Park."
"Maybe someday, but it's not in the budget this year. And Dad needs all the help he can get during the summer."
"What's he going to do when you're done with school and need to start your own life off the ranch?"
Chanel chewed her lip and fiddled with the drawstring on her hoodie. They hadn't talked about it yet, but she knew they needed to. This could possibly be her last summer at home.
Bert cut into her thoughts. "Chanel, he'll be fine. You know that, right? He can hire another guy."
Mentioning hiring another guy brought Maddox back to her mind, and the reason she'd called her friend. Though she still wasn't sure what to say about him, she was ready to change the subject. "Speaking of hiring someone, we have a new hand this summer."
"Is he cute?" Bert was so predictable. Her mind was never far from s.e.xy clothes and handsome men.
"Well, yeah. Not really my type, though," Chanel said.
"You don't have a type."
Chanel giggled. Bert had done her best to find someone for Chanel since she'd dumped Jared Walker at the end of their freshman year at Doumit. "I know jocks aren't my type." Jared played on the Doumit soccer team. He'd been Chanel's first long-term boyfriend, her first with everything. Then she walked in on him with an over-highlighted, bottle-tanned sports groupie. Thinking back, Chanel wondered how she'd been so nave. At the time she'd been blinded by Jared's good looks and perfect lines convincing her she was the only one, even when all of his buddies had cell phones bursting with willing female phone numbers. Getting laid was just a text away every night. It killed her still, two years later, that she'd just been a notch on his bedpost.
"He's a jock? I thought only cowboys worked on that place."
"Me too," Chanel murmured.