Page 11 of Chasing Liberty

“Hell, it feels good to me,” Sam snorted.

“Daddy, why in the hell didn’t you tell me you got rid of Dr. Vanhoose and hired Keller Abbott?”

Sam, who probably never bowed under any man, no matter how big and commanding, looked a bit more vulnerable as the woman he called “darlin’” sashayed with lots of attitude toward them. “Honey, can’t this wait?”

Now honey?

“For what?” She whipped off her hat and smacked it hard against her denim-clad thigh. Her long, strawberry-blonde curls with lighter wisps around her face tumbled down her shoulders. Wyler sat there staring like an idiot feeling unarmed in a battle of wits.

“I’m talking to our newest hand, Liberty,” Sam said with a sigh, but the irritation in his broad jaw didn’t quite reach his grey eyes.

She finally noticed that Sam wasn’t alone because she glanced over at Wyler, not showing much care either way, and continued her tirade. “If you’d warned me that we had a new veterinarian on staff I wouldn’t have just ripped him a new asshole because he was touching my prized mare.” She tilted her hip and planted her palm right there.

Wyler had wondered if her lips tasted as sweet as the cherry-red color suggested.

“You’ve known Keller all your life. Retract your claws.” Sam drew in a long inhale from the cigar and slowly blew it out. “If you would have shown up at the family meeting then you’d be acquainted with the comings and goings. Like Miloh Vanhoose’s retirement.”

One brow lifted over dazzling silver-blue eyes. “I was out of town. It takes two seconds to send me a text. How are we supposed to function if we don’t use modern technology. Justlike I’ve been telling you for years it’s time we update to digital files.”

Wyler had sat there awkwardly watching the interesting exchange.

“Must have slipped my secretary’s mind. Oh, wait. I don’t have a secretary.” More irritation tightened Sam’s features.

“I’d just appreciate some inclusion. Staff meetings are outdated.” She slammed her hat back down on the bouncy curls. “What doyouthink, Cowboy?”

It took a few seconds and a delicate clearing of her throat before Wyler had realized the lady was asking him.

He’d thought maybe this was some sort of test to see if he could pass.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asked while cocking the other flared hip. Those eyes—those amazing eyes had burrowed so deep inside him he felt it all the way into his past.

This most definitely could have been a test, and Wyler wasn’t stupid. “I find that weekly meetings are a chance for bonding. Makes everyone feel important. Regular meetings create a culture and inclusive decision-making. On large ranches like Sagebrush Rose things can get overlooked, hands can feel isolated, which can therefore cause conflict in the ranks. Communication with everyone is key to maintain trust.”

“Well knock me a cocked hat.” She blinked then burst into laughter. “Daddy, it looks like you’ve found your long-lost clone.” She turned on the heels of her well-used cowgirl boots and started back the way she came. “And what did Doc tell you about smoking?” She yelled over her shoulder.

Wyler didn’t even realize he’d been staring at the sweet sway of her bottom until Sam’s growl drew Wyler back onto the reason he was there in the first place. He couldn’t admit it aloud, of course, but he was super stoked that the beauty wasn’t Sam’s girlfriend.

“Let me finish up discussing rule three. No women in the bunkhouse. Want to wet your willy, then go into town and leave your mess on someone else’s fine sheets. This is probably the most important caveat.” Sam snuffed out his cigar in a crystal ashtray. “My daughters, they’re off limits. I’m not hiring potential sons-in-law. A man being led by his dick can’t think past his zipper. I need reliable cowboys who can think with their brains.”

Sweat had beaded Wyler’s forehead, then and now.

He’d passed the test, if that was what it was, because within fifteen minutes of the meeting Sam had welcomed Wyler to the ranch by putting him to work on a fence.

Thankfully, Sam hadn’t broken Wyler’s neck when he learned of Liberty and Wyler’s elopement. Hell, the old man had to know she’d gotten hitched primarily just to piss him off.

Over the months, Wyler and Sam had become friends. He knew exactly what he was doing by forcing his daughters to settle down. Women like the Rose sisters were spoiled, strong-willed and had a feisty side the length and width of Texas. They hadn’t learned the art of striking a fine balance between strength and flexibility. A good boss wasn’t made by only a firm hand, but he had to respect his subordinates, treat them as equals. The sisters treated the hands like potential lovers who they could sleep with and dispose of when they were bored.

Sam had every right to be embarrassed and he had run out of patience. The man wanted some grandchildren to hand the Rose heritage down to.

Wyler had heard many rumors about the sisters. He’d never been one to put a lot of stock in idle gossip, but in his own personal situation, he certainly had been used and he’d loved every minute of it.

Hell, he didn’t blame this all on Liberty. He’d wanted her the moment he watched her walking his direction and sheflipped off that hat in such a way that stirred some forgotten emotions in him. He’d never been a saint because there’d been plenty of buckle bunnies in his past, but none that ever awakened the sleeping beast. He would have crawled across a desert with no water to drink from her ocean.

Now fast forward. Wyler had to put his foot down.

Liberty was now in his past too.

The dancer pulled him down the hallway lit by cheap wall sconces that had cobwebs stretched from one to other like a macabre garland. There were holes in the wall, one looking suspiciously like the mold of a man’s face. At least the place smelled like perfume and not a few places he’d visited back on the road.

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