Page 16 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

“I’m recently employed by Calhoun Ridge, looking into some security matters on his ranch.”

He blinked at her. “Cal hired you? A woman?”

She rested her hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Mr.Langford, let’s clear something up. In addition to not having a Y chromosome, I also hold a degree in Operations Research from the Naval Academy where I graduated with honors and distinction after being in the top ten percent of my class. I have served in three active duty combat scenarios overseas, participated in more classified missions than you have teeth, and have eleven confirmed kills to my name. I’m an expert marksman, and I can fly both an airplane and a helicopter. So if you would like to discuss which brand of makeup I prefer or maybe find out how I like to wear my hair or which shopping mall interests me most, I’m happy to do that at a later time. For now, maybe we could stick to the reason I’m here and talk about my job.”

“You’re a mite touchy about your gender, Miss Dunbar,” he said.

“No, Ranger Langford, I’m a mite touchy about everything,” she said. She pulled out her notebook and plopped it on the table between them. “I’ve been surveying the ranch and taking notes, and I have some questions I’d like you to answer.”

“I don’t think you said the magic word,” he replied, and all of a sudden she realized he was flirting with her.

“Oh, geez,” she said, pressing her thumb between her eyes to push back the encroaching headache. She could feel her blood pressure rising perilously. “Dismemberment, how’s that for a word?”

“Tsk,” he made a noise of disapproval, shaking his head. “All that passion and anger needs a proper channel, Major Dunbar.”

“Is this real life? I come to you as a professional and you treat the meeting like a speed dating session.”

“No one said the two had to be mutually exclusive. Have lunch with me, and we’ll talk all you want about your littleproject on the ranch.”

“I’m already committed to lunch with Mr. Ridge, thank the good Lord.”

“Cal won’t mind, he’s a friend of mine.”

“My condolences to him,” she said, and he laughed.

Bailey gathered her notebook and stood.

“Wait, we never got to have our little talk,” he said, still smiling at her in the aggravating way.

“Forget it. I’ll handle it myself,” she said and without waiting for a response stalked out the front door, slamming it so hard behind her the glass rattled.

Once on the street she rounded the corner and sat on a bench, breathing deeply to get herself back under control. Spots popped behind her closed eyes, and she figured her blood pressure was in or beyond the danger zone by now. The seat beside her squeaked. She braced herself in case it was the obnoxious ranger.

“Everything all right, little bit?” Cal asked.

Bailey opened her eyes and looked up at him. He frowned. “Hey there, what’s wrong?” The concern in his tone was genuine, and she could feel her blood beginning to recede back from her brain to where it was supposed to be. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Sometimes, Mr. Ridge, it’s very frustrating to have an outside that doesn’t match my inside, to constantly have to prove myself to everyone, to be looked at as little, helpless, and cute. Men seem to believe if I’m not interested in them I must be a lesbian because of course it couldn’t be that I simply want to do my job with no distractions. I can’t be soft or show any emotion without being dismissed as a little girl. I can’t be hard and unyielding without being branded a feminist witch. To always be too much of something for one group of peopleand never enough of something for everyone else. I know who I am and what I’m about, but I get very weary of a world that tries to make me forget.”

He was quiet a few beats before he spoke. “You should have been a quarterback, Bailey, because that was a good speech, one of the best. And I’m sorry I was one of those people who doubted you, who made you have to prove yourself. I promise not to do so again, and I’ll give you whatever support you need to do what you came here to do.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“Stop calling me sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “Want me to beat up Sully for you?”

“I can do it myself, sir,” she said, and he laughed.

“I believe that you could, and I’d kind of like to see it,” he said.

“Give it time,” she said, and he laughed again.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

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