Once Upon a Cowboy Read Free Page A

and Holt closed his eyes. No way. If there was an ounce of fairness in the world, it wouldn't be true. But how many Greenbushes could one planet hold? The odds of this one being anybody other than the wrangler he'd hired were staggering.
    He fixed her with a stern gaze. "First, Holt Winston's around now. You're conversing with him. Second, these aren't my guests. They belong to my neighbor here, Frank Smith."
    Frank, still fighting to bring his amusement under control, flicked the brim of his hat with his forefinger. "Ma'am," he said.
    "And third," Holt continued in a hard voice. "I don't have an employee named Cami Greenbush."
    Not one whit abashed, that stunning smile reappeared, along with the adorable dimples. Lord help him, but they caused a calamitous reaction to certain inappropriate parts of his anatomy. An unwanted calamitous reaction. Hadn't those inappropriate parts learned their lesson last time a city woman had sashayed across his path?
    She took a step in his direction. "You may not have hired Cami Greenbush, but you do have an employee named Tex Greenbush and they're both me." She offered her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Winston."
    "Likewise, I'm sure. You're fired."
    Her hand dropped slowly to her side, her smile faltering. "Fired?"
    "Fired. I hired an experienced wrangler, not a duded up wannabe."
    She planted her hands on her hips and stuck her chin into the air, a flush blooming across her cheekbones. Holt released his breath in a silent sigh. He'd had close and personal experience with other females wearing that particular expression. Unfortunately, it usually meant the wearer intended to tear a strip off his hide with the cutting edge of her tongue.
    "You can't fire me," she announced. "We've got a contract."
    He nodded. "And I just broke it."
    To his amazement, the light of battle faded and she burst out laughing. He shot a look at Gabby and Frank, relieved to see he wasn't the only one she'd taken by surprise. Their jaws hung somewhere in the vicinity of their belt buckles.
    "You figure she got hold of some locoweed?" Gabby asked in a loud aside, scratching his whiskered jaw in puzzlement.
    Holt didn't respond. Instead he leaned across his saddle horn and waited, waited until her laughter died and those incredible blue eyes were once again fixed squarely on his. Then he spoke in his most cordial—and most discouraging—tone of voice. The voice smart people took heed of. The one that kept even the more ornery of his wranglers toeing the line.
    The one he used right before he decked someone.
    "Something amusin' you, miss?" he asked softly.
    She didn't appear in the least intimidated, let alone as scared as any soul in her proper mind ought to be. He watched in stunned disbelief as she stepped within reach of him and ran a gentle hand along Loco's neck. To his utter disgust, the dumb horse stood there and took it.
    "It's just, I know a cowboy's word means more than that. We have a contract. You'd sooner shoot yourself in the foot than go back on your word." She peered at him from beneath ridiculously long, thick lashes. Not a lick of makeup touched her porcelain complexion, it's pale perfection marred only by the sweetest smattering of freckles. And yet he'd never seen a woman more beautiful, every bit of it one hundred percent natural. "Isn't that right?"
    It took an instant for her words to penetrate, no doubt because he'd been distracted by those bitty freckles dusting her nose, along with the insane need to count each and every one of them. The instant his brain kicked into gear again, his brows tugged together. "Where the hell did you get such a harebrained notion as—"
    "Er, Holt?"
    He turned and glared at his foreman. "What?"
    Gabby gave a significant nod toward the porch. "You was sayin'?"
    Holt glanced at the litter of pitcher-eared redheads lining his railing. Sixteen narrowed, unblinking eyes appraised him with cold disapproval. "I was saying... I... You..." He fought hard to rein in the