Read The Cowboy and the Angel Online
Authors: T. J. Kline
“Other than being sore, how was your first day?” Sydney asked, taking a seat behind the desk and opening the file.
“It was . . . fine.” She didn’t want to relive the moments with Derek today. She wasn’t even sure why she was letting him affect her the way he had. She’d been pretty effective at pushing men away in the past, but Derek didn’t seem inclined to take the hints she was dropping.
Sydney smiled. “That doesn’t sound good.” She twisted her lips, trying to hide a smile. “Derek can be difficult at times, but his heart is in the right place.”
Angela smiled at her, thinking about how patient Derek had been while teaching her to ride. “It wasn’t Derek,” she lied. “I just need to be careful to keep my point of view impartial, and I get the feeling he’s trying to keep me from doing that.”
“Probably,” she admitted, jotting down a note in the file before looking up at Angela. “Derek won’t let anything threaten this family, especially now.”
Angela leaned forward. “What do you mean, now?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Sydney leaned back in the chair, giving Angela her full attention. “Up until this past year, Derek and Scott have been at odds about his place in the family business. Derek stepped up when Kassie was born, so Scott could spend more time at home with us.”
“He mentioned some friction between them.”
Sydney nodded, her lips twisting to the side. “That’s a nice way of putting it.” She put the file back into the cabinet and took a soda out for herself, popping the top with a soft
whish
. “Derek hasn’t always made the best decisions. But he’s been a great friend to me since I came here. Scott and I wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for him. He made us face our fears in order to find a future.” She smiled and tipped the can toward Angela. “I think, maybe, he’s trying to do the same for you.”
Angela stood quickly, not wanting Sydney to analyze the situation between her and Derek for fear she might dig into Angela’s past. “I should probably let you get back to work.”
Angela didn’t even realize she was twirling the ring on her necklace until Sydney rose from behind the desk and reached out to take it between her fingers. “It’s pretty. An heirloom?”
She glanced up at Sydney, surprised to see friendly interest instead of judgment. “It was my mother’s wedding ring,” she answered, her voice strained.
Sydney met her gaze and must have seen the pain she felt at the mention of her mother in past tense. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her hand.
Angela shrugged, erecting the walls surrounding her emotions again, refusing to let anyone see the emptiness that had left a gaping hole in her heart for the last fifteen years. “It’s been a long time. I don’t remember a lot,” she lied.
Sydney smiled sadly. “You and Derek have more in common than I realized. He lost his parents young, too. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone who understands to talk to.” She tipped her head and looked at Angela oddly before drinking the last of the soda and tossing the can into the garbage. “Mike wanted me to iron out the sleeping arrangements before Thursday. We’ll be going this weekend instead of Jen and Clay. Their baby has been coughing, so Jen wants to keep him home.”
Angela frowned at the quick change of subject, wondering if she’d be staying with Sydney in the trailer now.
Please, let that still be the plan
.
“Kassie will come with us, but she’ll stay in the trailer with you and me. She’s a good baby and sleeps a lot.” She smiled tenderly at the mention of her daughter. “It makes my job a lot easier.”
“Hey, Syd!” The women both turned as Derek entered the barn. Angela saw his eyes grow hot as they caressed her. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.” His voice was husky and he stared at her lips.
Sydney glanced between them before giving Angela a knowing smile. She prayed that Sydney wasn’t able to read her thoughts. She certainly didn’t want anyone to realize the way her heart raced when he walked into the room or the way her limbs felt like they’d turned liquid. Or how heat spread down her spine, warming her every nerve ending and making her feel like she was slowly being consumed by fire.
“I should get back to my research,” Angela muttered. “Thanks for the heads up, Sydney.” She brushed by Derek, unable to avoid touching him, and fought to hold back a groan of pleasure as her breast brushed against his arm as she snuck past him in the doorway before limping back to the house. She closed the front door and leaned her back against it, reaching for the ring. “Oh, Mama, what have I gotten myself into?” she whispered.
A
NGELA WOKE STILL
fully clothed, lying on top of the covers of her bed. She glanced at the blank computer screen in front of her. She must have fallen asleep while she was doing research, and it had gone to standby. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself up and shoved her thick hair back from her face, pulling a hair tie from her wrist to draw it back. Her fingers deftly plaited it and banded the bottom as she wandered toward the window. Night had fallen, covering the sky like an inky blanket, but lights glowed in the barn. She reached for her cell phone to check the time, realizing she must have slept right through dinner. Ten thirty?
Her stomach protested, growling loudly, and Angela wondered if it would seem rude if she raided the refrigerator. She tiptoed downstairs, pausing with every creak, trying not to wake anyone as she made her way into the kitchen to open the pantry door. Her brows shot upward as she took in the massive quantity of food before her: everything from canned goods, fruit, jams, and sauces to staples like beans, pastas, and baking goods. She wished she were a better cook because Silvie’s kitchen was a chef’s paradise. She couldn’t even guess where to start and gave up, reaching for bread and peanut butter from the shelf. She started to close the pantry door when a shadow in the corner of her vision caught her attention.
A gasp of fear escaped, and she dropped both items as she spun to face the intruder.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek whispered quickly. “It’s just me.”
“Crap!” She felt her heart leap into her throat. “What the hell, Derek?” She lowered her voice. “You scared me half to death.” She bent and scooped up the bread and the container of peanut butter. “Why are you sneaking around this time of the night?” she asked through clenched teeth, trying to control her racing heart.
He shot her a lopsided grin, took the items from her shaking hands, and put them back into the pantry. “I could ask you the same thing. Here.” He opened the refrigerator and handed her a plate covered with aluminum foil. “Silvie figured you’d wake up hungry, so she made a plate for you. Just heat it up.”
Angela stared at him, unsure what to say. Gratitude flooded her chest, filling her eyes with tears. The last time anyone had given even a second thought to her needs was when she was eight, before losing her mother. She’d been the caregiver for her father as long as she could remember, the one who kept his dinner warm, not the other way around. She wanted to hold the tears back, but the harder she tried the more they threatened to spill. Finally, she gave in.
“Hey . . . Aww, man,” Derek muttered, taking the plate from her hands and helping her into one of the kitchen chairs. “It’s nothing to cry about. It’s just dinner.” He slid the plate into the microwave and hit the buttons.
Angela buried her face in her hands and continued to cry, hating that this man, out of everyone at the ranch, was the person to see her break down. “It’s not about dinner. It’s . . .” Angela threw her hands in the air as Derek slid the warm plate in front of her. “I don’t know.”
He sat next to her, and she felt his hand squeeze her knee gently. “Angel, if you want to cry, I’ve got two free shoulders. But, if you’d rather, we can just talk.”
Angela cupped her hands around her eyes and sniffed. The thoughtfulness of this family was something she’d never experienced from anyone before. Throughout most of her life, she’d been surrounded by people clawing to get ahead, no matter what damage might be caused in the process. She’d spent every waking moment living just like them, scraping and struggling to get by and dragging herself into the circle of success, ignoring the wake of bruised and battered people left behind. In her business, it was the only way to get ahead. In a few short days, this family was forcing her to rethink every belief she held.
Her stomach growled loudly in spite of the turmoil going on in her heart, and Derek laughed out loud. “That lasagna isn’t going to stay hot much longer.” He shook her leg gently. “Eat. We’ll talk after.” He stood and walked to the refrigerator, giving her some much needed space to compose herself.
Angela wiped her eyes, her fingers coming away with smeared mascara.
Great, I probably look like a raccoon
.
She dug into the cheesy pasta with a fork, grateful that Derek hadn’t made fun of her tears. For someone who’d managed to hide her emotions for the last fifteen years, she hadn’t been doing a very good job over the past few days.
“Thirsty?” Derek stood in the doorway of the refrigerator, glancing back at her, his forearm resting against the top. “There’s water, tea, soda, beer . . . What’s your pleasure?”
She nearly choked on her food and wondered if he realized the double meaning of his words. She covered her mouth with her hand and turned toward him, sizzling heat slithering to her stomach and warming her limbs. His lopsided grin told her she’d given him the reaction he’d been looking for, and she tried to frown at him even while she couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Come on, that was funny. You know it was,” he insisted as he slid a cold beer in front of her. “I’m guessing you’re more of a wine girl, but you seem like you could use something to take the edge off.” He slid into the chair. She glanced at the beer in front of her, instantly wondering which bar her father was likely frequenting at this moment.
“No thanks, I’ll just have water.” She returned the beer to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
“You ate that already?”
Angela smiled unapologetically. “I was hungry.”
“I guess,” he agreed, widening his eyes. “For someone so tiny, you’ve got a healthy appetite.” Derek shook his head and took the plate to the dishwasher.
“You know, I could do that,” she said.
Derek shrugged. “I suppose, but I’m already finished. Want to go out to the porch?”
Angela rose and followed him out to the front porch where he reclined on the wicker loveseat, crossing his ankles on the tabletop and patting the spot next to him. She shook her head at him disapprovingly. “What would Miss Silvie say?”
“She’d say, ‘Derek, relax, you work too hard.’” He winked at her and patted the cushion again.
Angela eyed him warily. “You promise to behave this time?” She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to ask him.
Nothing like letting him know you’ve been thinking about his kiss all day.
“Cross my heart,” he said, demonstrating.
She sat beside him, careful to keep several inches between them, and took a long sip of the cool liquid, dropping her head onto the backrest and staring out toward the corral. “What are you still doing up this time of night? Don’t you have to get up with the chickens?”
“I guess. I’m sort of a night owl,” he answered after taking a swig from his bottle. “Tomorrow should be interesting for you. You’ll get to see some of the bucking stock up close.”
She lifted her head and eyed him with distrust, hoping he didn’t hear the tremor of apprehension in her voice. “How close?”
Derek chuckled quietly. “Still don’t trust me?” He looked down at her.
Angela looked up and their eyes met. She could see laughter in the depths of his but there was more—a yearning that made her want to meet him halfway. The raw need for understanding ate at her resolve to remain detached. “I don’t
distrust
you.”
He laughed quietly. “I guess that’s a place to start.”
She looked out over the front yard and corral, her eyes lifting to the indigo sky filled with sparkling stars, which were brighter than she’d ever seen and faded into a distant abyss. She could see the dark shape of a horse in the corral and trees behind, but they were all small shadows in the distance, creating an eerie feeling of insignificance under the huge expanse above her. They sat in silence for several minutes, and she wondered how she could be so comfortable with a near-stranger beside her, late at night, in the middle of nowhere.
“It must have been pretty amazing growing up out here,” she murmured, deliberately breaking the silence that was lulling her into a false security. She wanted to steel herself against his charm, but right now, under the stars with him, she was finding it more impossible than ever.
Derek put his empty bottle on the porch near the corner of the loveseat. “I always had an escape plan. I thought I wanted to live in the city until I went there,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
It was an unspoken request for her to move closer, to eliminate the physical and emotional distance between them. By moving toward him willingly, she would become vulnerable, allowing him access to the hidden corners in her heart where she remained safe from further loss. If she allowed him in, she risked losing everything she’d worked for, including the freedom she was fighting to obtain.
Angela remained rooted to her cushion, stubbornly refusing to look at him. She wanted to move toward him, wanted to open up to him, but her fear was greater than her desire.
Derek wasn’t about to be deterred so easily, and he scooted closer to her on the couch. She pressed her lips together and looked at her lap. If he didn’t send her heart racing out of control with a mere glance, she would have dismissed him long ago for being such a pushy, alpha male. Usually she couldn’t stand guys who demanded her attention, not that she’d had time for more than a few men, but something about Derek made her crave his presence even as she dreaded what it might cost her.
“How could anyone want the city over this?” She dropped her head back against his shoulder and soon found herself moving her head to rest against the wall of his chest. “I’ve never seen stars so bright.”