“Not until the cream rises to the top. Then you skim it off so you can make butter.”
“I don’t really need butter.”
“How can you write a story if you can’t describe making butter?”
He was right-dammit. “I didn’t mean I didn’t want to make it, only that I won’t need much,” she quickly backtracked. “I can’t wait to get started making butter.”
“Of course.” He leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms in front of him. “Exactly what kind of book are you writing, anyway? You never really said. Just that it was about how pioneers lived. Is it a straight history piece or what?”
“I’m covering from the statehood forward. It’ll be like a textbook. I’m up to the nineteen twenties.” That sounded good, believable. She looked him right in the eye, never wavering her gaze even though her body tensed.
“I’d like to read it.”
“Now?” Her pulse sped up.
“When you get it finished.”
Nikki breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I don’t like anyone to see my work until it’s completed. Stifles the creativity and all.”
How many lies could she tell in one day? Apparently, quite a few. But he looked as though he bought every word. And why shouldn’t he. She was damned good at what she did.
Cal watched for a sign that Nikki might feel an ounce of remorse for lying through those pretty white teeth. He didn’t see even one spark of guilt.
It was time to bring out more artillery. No, he wasn’t even close to finished with her yet. “You ready to gather eggs?”
She paled just a little. “Will the rooster be there?” She ran her hands up and down her arms as if there were a sudden chill in the air.
What was it with the rooster? He had a feeling it might have something to do with why the bird was acting funny. “I’m sure he’ll be around somewhere. He usually watches over the hens.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded as though she were about to face a firing squad and knew she deserved to be shot. Yeah, it was a strange reaction.
And she didn’t look any better once they were standing in front of the chicken coop. He was starting to feel a little sorry for her. Especially when the rooster came lurching around the corner. The bird took one look at her and began to flap its wings and squawk.
“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said as the rooster flapped and squawked back around the side of the barn and out of sight like a bat out of hell.
“It won’t return, will it?” She hugged her middle and eyed the direction the bird had gone.
He couldn’t blame her for being nervous. The rooster acted as though it were possessed or something. “I don’t know. I wonder if a rattler might have gotten him.”
Her face paled. “Rattler, as in rattlesnake?” Her gaze darted to the ground.
“We have them sometimes. They’ll let you know when they’re around. The sound of a snake’s rattle is like nothing you’ve ever heard before.”
“Oh, that makes me feel a lot better.”
“Just stop in your tracks and look around. Most of the time, they’re only warning you to keep your distance.”
“And what about the other times? Do snakes have really pissy days and strike for no reason whatsoever?”
“I’m sure women who lived on the range had to put up with a lot more than rattlesnakes and a goofy rooster.”
Her shoulders squared. “And that’s exactly why I’m writing this book.”
Cal bit back the words he wanted to say, but it took a lot of effort on his part. Nikki wasn’t nearly as good as she thought she was. Even if Jeff hadn’t told him she was a reporter, Cal had a feeling he’d see through her act. She might be good with sleazy politicians, but his granddad didn’t raise any fools.
But he’d play her game a little longer and see what happened. Maybe because she was so damned easy on the eyes. “Then you’d better gather the eggs.”
For all her bravado, she timidly stepped forward, stopping in front of the wooden bins where the hens nested. He had a feeling she didn’t back down from much. Not and have a nickname like The Barracuda. She was out of her element and in way over her head at the ranch.
But that didn’t make her any less sexy. He caught a whiff of her perfume, savoring the heady scent as it wrapped around him, tempting him to step a little closer, to do more than kiss her this time.
“Now what do I do,” she asked, breaking the spell.
It was probably a good thing she had, too. “Just stick your hand inside and get the eggs. This first one is easy since the chicken is out roaming around.”
“She’s not going to come back and see me stealing her eggs, is she? I don’t want to be on her hit list or anything.”
“I doubt it. Didn’t you ever hunt Easter eggs?”
“No, my parents didn’t want to fill my head with a lot of nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” He readjusted his hat and stared at her. “What about Christmas and other holidays?”
“We each exchanged one gift, but they made sure I knew there was no such thing as a fat, jolly man in a red suit.” She glanced his way and apparently noted his stunned expression. “You think it’s better to lie to a child? Let the child believe in something that doesn’t truly exist?”
“I think it’s better to let children have fantasies and dreams-let them be children and not force them to grow up, to become little adults.”
“Apparently it didn’t hurt me.”
He begged to differ, but for now, he kept his thoughts to himself. One of his best memories was waking up on Christmas morning to the aroma of fresh-baked pumpkin bread, the Christmas lights twinkling on the tree, and scratchy Christmas songs playing on the old record player.
His grandmother would have the table set with the china that had been passed down from her grandmother. There were a few chips and dings, and it hadn’t been a complete set of dishes in years, but the set was priceless to her. His grandmother said each plate had a story, and every year she would tell them one.
He and Brian had discussed her stories once and come to the conclusion that she more often than not made them up, but she was really good at telling them, and they enjoyed listening to them, so they never said anything.
Cal couldn’t imagine the kind of holidays Nikki had celebrated. They sounded cold. Maybe that was why people called her The Barracuda.
Nikki reached into the bin and grabbed the egg, then put it in the basket he’d brought with them. She cocked an eyebrow as if to say gathering eggs wasn’t all that hard. Then she stepped to the next bin and saw the hen still sitting inside. She stared it down for a few seconds before looking at Cal.
“I don’t think she wants to move.”
“Probably not.”
“And?”
“You reach under her and get the eggs.”
“Won’t she…”
“Peck you? No.”
Nikki took a deep breath. He really liked the way she inhaled. He also liked the expanse of skin she showed. When he’d first seen that she’d tied the ends of her shirt under her breasts, he’d wondered if she was trying to seduce a story out of him. Not that he minded that much. He kind of liked the fact she put so much into her job.
“Ow!” She jerked her hand back, then glared at him. “You lied.”
“You were too slow. She sensed your fear and took advantage of you. You need to get the eggs faster.” He reached under the hen and got the egg the chicken was sitting on. The hen didn’t do a thing to him. “Easy as pie.”
“I wasn’t afraid of her.” She jutted her chin.
The chicken rose slightly, puffing out her chest. “Block, block, block.”
“I think she’s taunting me, though.”
He laughed. It was hard to stay angry with Nikki, especially now that he knew a little more about her. So what if she was trying to get a story. It didn’t mean he had to give her one.
And she’d definitely chased away his boredom. He liked watching her as she faced challenge after challenge and didn’t back down. Kind of reminded Cal of when he played football. He never let anyone stand in his way.