Starstruck Cowboy (Working Man Series Book 1) Page 3

  “Your rich friends are calling,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Then you’re going to have to fight off all three of the Hackson brothers because, as soon as they get here, I’m going to tell them to kill you.”

  “What?” His eyes opened wide in surprise. Shouts from the Hackson brothers filled the air as their trucks pulled up and skidded to a stop. Three burly men jumped out with buckets in their hands. One of them had blankets to beat out the flames.

  “Give me a bucket and I’ll help,” he said, holding out his hands, ready to make a mad dash down to the river that ran alongside the road.

  “Who’s he?” growled one of the men.

  “Hurry up!” shouted Velvet out the window of the limo.

  “He’s leaving,” was all the girl said. “This was all his fault.”

  “You did this?” growled another of the men who had muscles three times the size of Luke’s.

  “I thought you said it was both our faults,” Luke told the girl.

  “I’ve changed my mind. Now, I want you to go.” She pushed her chin up in the air. These people were in no hurry even though a truck was on fire. He had never seen anything like it in his life.

  “You heard the little lady,” said one of the brothers from inside the bed of the truck. He bent over and picked up an axe. “You either go, or we’ll make you leave.”

  When the other two men headed around their trucks and moving toward Luke, he figured it wasn’t good to tempt fate.

  “Come on,” Brent yelled out the window. “We’ve wasted enough time. We’ve got places to go.”

  Luke felt mighty weary. All he wanted right now was a hot bath, a good home-cooked meal, and tons of hospitality from the women at the Brighton ranch.

  “As you wish, ma’am,” Luke said with a nod and a tip of his hat. He turned away, but couldn’t stop the nagging feeling that he should stay and do something more. In all the commotion, he hadn’t even asked the woman her name. He called over his shoulder as he headed back to the limo. “By the way, my name’s Luke Tyler. What’s yours?”

  “Star Brighton’s the name, Mr. Tyler,” came her cool and clipped answer.

  Luke froze in his tracks. “D-did you say Brighton?”

  “You heard me the first time.”

  Luke turned around slowly, surveying the bedraggled woman who stood with her hands on her hips and her jaw set firmly. Could this woman possibly be the rancher’s daughter? Brent had referred to the widow as old. How could an old woman have a daughter that didn’t look a day over twenty-three? He toyed with the idea that she might possibly be another woman from Possum Ridge named Brighton. No, he prayed that she was, although he knew the chances were slim. The population of the town was only about ninety-five people tops. For that matter, what were the chances there was even another ranch in the little town on the Arkansas border?

  “From Bright Star Ranch?” He cocked his head, keeping an eye on the burning truck as well as the Hackson brothers as he waited for her answer. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and it was no longer because he’d just escaped a near-death experience.

  “That’s right,” she told him.

  Luke stared at the angry woman and was certain she must be the widow’s daughter. But this girl was far from being a big brute of a bear as he’d expected. She was small and thin-boned like his co-star, Velvet Barabelle. True, she was covered in filth and had a mouth on her more foul than a dead steer on a hot summer day, but it could be possible that somewhere . . . he wasn’t sure where . . . but somewhere underneath all that, there could possibly be a lady.

  “My apologies, Ms. Brighton,” he said, tipping his hat to be polite. “I had no idea you owned the ranch where we’re shooting the film.”

  “So you’re really coming to my ranch to film your damned movie?”

  “You mean to tell me you didn’t know?”

  “Should I?” she asked in challenge.

  “Well, your mother sent us a letter and . . .”

  “My mother!” Star shook her head in frustration. Luke was sure Star wasn’t surprised that her mother was behind the whole thing. The look on her face told him her mother was notorious for doing things like this. “Well, I guess it’s too late for me to have an opinion on this situation, Mr. Tyler. But I warn you . . . call my mother an old lady once more and you’ll find a Winchester aimed straight at your heart at the hands of her bear of a daughter.”

  “Luke!” Velvet’s shrill voice from the car broke the death grip of Star’s eyes upon him. “Luke, are you coming or are we going to sit here all night on this godforsaken, deserted road? I can’t stand that acrid, smoky smell anymore. And the heat is ruining my hair.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Star.

  “The floozy,” Luke answered, not bothering to take a look.

  “Tyler,” came Brent’s beckon next. “Get your ass over here, and don’t think I’m crazy enough to let you drive again.”

  “The cheap, middle-aged man?” Star questioned.

  Luke nodded his head. “And if you want to see the ice bucket, you’ll have to let me give you a ride back to your ranch.”

  “You’re really serious about this whole movie thing being filmed at my ranch, aren’t you?”

  “Dead serious.” Luke bent over and scooped up the chicken, trying to lighten things up a bit. “I sure hope you’ve got a hot bath, a good meal, and a soft bed waiting for me.” He smiled. “After all, I’m beat! Saving chickens isn’t easy work, you know.”

  Star grabbed Baby from his hands and stormed toward the limo with Maxi on her heels.

  “Something like that,” she called over her shoulder. “Only it’s a cold creek, two-day-old hard biscuits, and a loft of hay over the barn.”

  “Close enough.” Luke nodded his head, not wanting to give the woman the satisfaction of knowing she was perturbing him. “I always enjoy a good roll in the hay.” He knew he was pushing it, but he was losing his patience. He’d meant to make the woman smile but it only backfired. Things were not going his way tonight.

  Star stopped in her tracks and turned her angry, green eyes toward him. A devious smile parted her lips as she raked her gaze down his body.

  “Good,” she replied. “Then when you’re finished rolling around in the hay, you can take a hold of your hard biscuits and go jump in the cold creek!”

  Chapter 3

  Luke rolled over in the stall of the Brightons’ barn, his arm falling around something warm next to him in the hay. With his eyes still closed and his head pounding, the empty bottle of whiskey slipped from his fingers. He had insisted on sleeping in the barn after all the trouble he caused Star Brighton the night before.

  Well, actually, it was her that insisted a louse such as him wasn’t welcome to occupy a room in the same house. When Star and her mother started arguing over that, as well as the fact that her mother offered the ranch for filming without consulting Star first, the arguing was just too much for Luke. He silently slipped away to the barn, only stopping first at the limousine for the booze to help him calm his nerves from the accident.

  He would have slept in the limo if it hadn’t reeked so much from Velvet’s obnoxious perfume. Besides, the limo only reminded him of his terrible mistake. Star could have been killed because of him. Luke would never forgive himself for acting so recklessly. Somehow, he had to make it up to her.

  He did his best trying to apologize to Star, telling her he hoped to somehow pay her back the money she’d lost. He even wanted to offer to get her a new truck but she wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise. It probably was a good thing since he didn’t have the money to give her anyway. He needed every penny he had to buy back his ranch. Brent was no help either. The cheap fool acted like the whole thing never happened and started talking business with Daisy instead.

  The hired hands were too enthralled with Velvet to even care about what happened, and Luke was left standing t
here feeling mighty awkward. It wasn’t like him to walk away from his problems, and it didn’t sit right with him at all. But he’d been so tired and weary that he’d decided to sleep on it and figure out how to make amends in the morning.

  Star Brighton hated him, and that made things even more difficult. Brent still wanted him to go through with his insane plan. Luke didn’t know if he could. It was hard enough just to get the girl to slow down long enough to talk to him, let alone convince her to take an offer of less money.

  Luke moaned at the thought that Brent and Velvet had probably been wined and dined, given hot baths, and clean, warm beds while he spent the night with his arm around Star’s dog, listening to the lull of the animals until he finally passed out.

  He brushed a fly off his nose, trying to ignore the stench of the barn that had grown even stronger than the night before. He had slept in places worse than this throughout his life, but as a rancher, not as a movie star. So much for his acting reputation.

  Luke swatted angrily at the buzzing flies around his head. How could he not have noticed this last night? Maybe, it was because it had been dark when he entered the barn, and his senses were immensely dulled from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

  The orange light filtering through his closed lids told him it must be morning. With his eyes still shut, he ran his hand over the back of Star’s dog. He had been complaining about Star Brighton to the poor hound that was nice enough to sit with him throughout the night while he downed the bottle of whiskey. But now . . . something was not right. The dog’s hair didn’t feel as soft anymore. His hand stopped in motion at the sound of a grunt in his ear. Slowly, he opened one eye to peek out, afraid of what he might find.

  To his horror, a huge sow lay next to him, nursing half a dozen young piglets. Flies swarmed over the pig as it threw back its head, rubbing its wet nose on Luke’s cheek. Before he could even react, the door of the pen swung open and Star hurled a bucket of slop toward him, hitting him right in the face.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Luke jumped to his feet and wiped the slop off his face with the back of his hand.

  “Mr. Tyler!” Star dropped the bucket and it clattered to the floor. The pig pushed up to its feet and sauntered over to the trough directly behind Luke. Her piglets followed.

  “Is this your idea of a joke, Ms. Brighton?” Luke tried his best to hold back his anger and not explode. Sleeping with a pig was bad enough, but being covered in slop was where he drew the line.

  Star stood with her mouth hanging open, never expecting to find Luke Tyler sleeping with the hogs. She surveyed the man standing with his hands on his hips and with slop running down the front of his unbuttoned shirt. His shoulder-length, chestnut hair was tousled, and soot still stained his cheeks from the fire the night before. He looked so different from yesterday when he had first stepped foot out of his limo. Back then, he had looked so handsome with his windblown hair falling from his black cowboy hat to his silk shirt and tailored vest. His iridescent blue eyes told her he was the type that girls would give their virginity to, even though they knew they were only a one-night stand. But now . . . now he was nothing more than a dirty vagabond, reeking from alcohol, sleeping with the pigs, and dripping from head to toe with last night’s leftovers.

  Star could barely hold back from laughing. A smile turned up her lips and, without meaning to, she let out a small chuckle. “Well, Mr. Movie Star, I do believe you mentioned something about wanting a place to sleep, a meal, and a bath. You got them all at once. We charge extra for such service around here, you know.”

  “Why did you throw that at me?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  He looked so ridiculous that Star’s body shook with laughter and she could barely answer him. “I . . . I . . . had no idea you were in here sleeping with the pigs!”

  “It was dark last night when I wandered in here,” explained Luke. “I didn’t have a lantern and – you think this is real funny, don’t you?” The tone of his voice let her know he was less than amused by the situation.

  Star slapped a hand over her mouth and nodded. In her opinion, the situation couldn’t have been grander if she planned it herself. She gasped for air and held her stomach that was now aching from holding back her laughter.

  Luke’s face reddened as he took a step toward her and his boots squished with slop. “Makes your day to see someone covered from head to toe with swill, does it?”

  Star watched him in amusement. He looked so funny, and it served him right for what he did to her truck last night. After the fire was put out, there wasn’t enough left of it to even haul back to the ranch. She’d also lost her money from the sale of the chickens, probably somewhere along the road. By now she was sure it had burned up in the fire.

  “Ms. Brighton,” Luke continued. “Please allow your guest the same courtesy of a good laugh.” His hand lashed out and he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into the stall with him.

  “Oh!” she cried out in surprise, seeing what he was about to do. “No! Don’t,” she warned as the smile disappeared from her face and her eyes opened wide.

  Luke gave the girl a quick tug, only intending to scare her. But his hand slipped and he lost his grip in the process. Star ended up face down in the trough. The huge pig eating its dinner snorted its displeasure just inches from her ear.

  “Crap,” he mumbled, knowing this was only going to make things worse for him. Luke was at a loss for words, unable to think of a quick apology because of the pounding in his head from his hangover. His mouth felt dry, his tongue two sizes too big for his mouth. He watched Star’s face redden as she pushed her wet body from the trough and struggled to place her feet back on the ground. After wiping some leftover beans and rice from her face, she thrust her chin in the air.

  “Look, I . . .” Luke stepped forward and extended his hand to help her. As he bent over, he was greeted by Star’s fist smashing him square in the eye.

  Luke stumbled backwards, catching himself on the gate.

  “Try a stunt like that again, Mr. Tyler, and you, as well as your crew, will be back on the road and looking for a new place to finish filming your movie. Bright Star Ranch and its occupants have always been well respected by others. No one and I repeat, no one, is going to let its reputation slip. No, Mr. Tyler, not even you.”

  Luke stepped away from her and rubbed his stinging eye, studying her from the opposite side of the pen. Her chin jutted forward determinedly, and her lower lip stuck out like a brooding child. She was so little and adorable, and determined to remain proud in such a ridiculous situation. How could he possibly stay mad? He wanted to laugh at her in return, just like she had done to him, but decided against it.

  “You’re rather cute when you’re angry and covered with sow slop,” he told her with a half-grin. By the frown on her face, he realized his words weren’t coming out quite the way he intended. He meant it as a compliment, but it sounded more like an insult. “That’s not what I mean.” He straightened up and cocked his head, peering at her through his one good eye. “It’s not that you’re ugly without it, but –”

  His vision was blurred for the moment, but there was no mistaking the insulted look upon Star’s face. He was screwing this up royally.

  “What I meant was . . .”

  “I don’t really care what you meant,” she said through gritted teeth, wiping slop from her cheek with the back of her hand.

  “I find you attractive,” he blurted out before she could interrupt again. “With slop, or without.”

  Her eyes turned to mere slits as she seemed to try to make sense of his words.

  Luke wiped the swill off the front of his shirt and shook it off to the ground. Then he smiled as pleasantly as he could.

  “For an actor, you’re not any good at speaking to a girl. Is there anything else you’d like to say before I call my hired hands and have you hauled away?”

  “Just one more thing, Ms. Brighton.” Luke sauntered across the pen and stopped di
rectly next to her.

  “What might that be, Mr. Tyler?” Star shyly looked up into Luke’s clear, blue eyes. His tall body towered over her and his chest looked even wider up close. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the man she’d met the night before. That is, before he reeked from alcohol and dripped with things she couldn’t identify.

  A compliment from that man would have probably made her heart beat faster. What this man was saying to her didn’t make a difference in the world. She found herself straightening the cuffs of her rolled-up checkered shirt while she waited for another of Luke’s sad attempts at complimenting her again.

  Luke’s hand rested on his bare chest, causing Star’s eyes to follow. His shirt was unbuttoned almost down to his waist, exposing a well-built man. Her thoughts wandered and she found herself wondering if the rest of him was built as nicely as well.

  “Where are those hard biscuits you promised?” he asked, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of his mouth. “I’m famished. Or should I just eat that damned pet chicken of yours?” His eyes swept the barn looking for Baby.

  His words caught her off guard. She expected another feeble attempt to win her favors and, instead, he threatened her. Eat her chicken, would he? If only he knew Baby had stayed in the guest room last night sleeping on a pile of warm blankets in a bed, while he slept in the cold barn with the pigs. The guest room was connected with her room and she hadn’t wanted him staying so close to her in the house. For a moment, when her mother kept insisting Luke stay there, she was concerned. But when he objected, it set her mind at ease.

  “If you’re so hungry, have some more leftovers.” Star smiled and nodded toward the trough. “It was better last night but, then again, you wouldn’t know since you stormed out of the kitchen before dinner was served.”

  His eyes darted over to the trough and the pigs and then back to her. If she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed a little worried. “I wasn’t all that hungry last night, but I am now.”