Page 5 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

“You zapped me,” he said when he could rightly talk again. His voice was tinged with no small amount of pain.

She loomed over him, hands on hips. “First of all, you never said how I had to take you down, only that I had to. Second, I’m five feet and five inches tall, what did you expect? Fight smarter, not harder, that’s my motto.”

Behind them, the cowboy leaned on his truck and guffawed, gasping in a wheezy manner that told her he probably smoked, too. The man on the ground groaned, whether in pain or defeat Baily didn’t know.

“Now, sir, where can I put my things?” Bailey demanded.

Chapter 4

Calhoun tried to call his little brother three times with no answer. On the last try, he left a voicemail.

“Boy, next time I see you, you better run,” was all he said, but he hoped it was enough to convey all his frustration. A woman. His brother had sent him a woman. Really, what had he been thinking? Had he been away from Texas so long he had forgotten how that would go over? Worse, the woman had bested him, had done the one thing he told her to do to be able to stay. She had cheated, but still, she had done it. And now he was stuck with her, stuck having to explain to thirty cowboys this tiny woman was now in charge of security. They had looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had.

At least she was quiet and intelligent. And he liked that she was a marine. He had full respect for the military, and what he said to her was true—he was certain she’d been good in that capacity. But this was Texas, and it was a whole other world. The men under his command would respect her, however grudgingly, but would they listen to her, take her seriously? Doubtful. And then there were those on the other side, brutal, lawless drug smugglers who viewed women as pawns, as playthings, who used them in the worst possible way. Cal was worried she would be one more liability, and his plate wasalready filled to the max. And then there was the matter of where she would sleep. No way could he put her in the bunkhouse. It was and had always been men only. He had no choice but to put her up in his house. He had plenty of space, enough for her to have her own wing, really, but still. The invasion of privacy left him antsy. And then there was Isabel. What would his wife say when she found out? And she would undoubtedly find out. It was a mess, a big, huge mess, and he had his little brother to blame for it.

“Good morning, everyone,” Bailey said to the assembled group of ranch hands before her. A couple of them snickered. Cal gave them a look, and they shut up. “My name is Major Bailey Dunbar, US Marines. If you’d like to know more about my resume, including my time at the Naval Academy, tours of duty and active service, I’d be happy to tell you later. In the meantime, I’d like to spend some time learning from you about the ranch and its specific security needs. In the next few days, I’ll be accompanying several of you as you go about your duties, observing, listening, talking. I feel you have a lot to teach me.”

One of the hands in the back snickered. Bailey raised an eyebrow at him and pinned him with a stare until his smile faded and he sat up straighter. “I’ll begin making rounds first thing tomorrow. In the meantime, I’d like to see your weapons and hear a bit about your experience and expertise with them.” When no one moved, she removed her gun from its holster and held it up for their inspection. “This is my weapon of choice, both for sentimental value and utility. It’s a Springfield Armory 1911, a gift from my father upon graduation from the Naval Academy. I understand you use shotguns and rifles more often here, and I’ll adjust accordingly. But this one will stay with me.”

“Can I see it?” Cal surprised everyone including himself by asking. But he was a gun enthusiast, and it was a fine piece.

“Of course,” she said, handing it over. He inspected it and handed it back to her.

“Nice piece.”

“Thank you. And what do you carry, Mr. Ridge?”

“It’s Cal.” He reached into his holster and withdrew his weapon, an SVI Tiki-T. Her eyes rounded as she took it, duly impressed.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, and he laughed a little because he’d never seen a woman so awed by a weapon before. She knew her guns, that much was apparent.

After that, everyone felt more at ease with showing her their weapons. She took due time with each, making a careful and calculated inspection, holding it up, testing the weight, viewing the sights, asking questions. The bunkhouse took on a kind of social, party atmosphere with everyone talking weapons and ammo. It was a comfort zone for the men, and for Bailey too, apparently. The common thread was one thing they could relate over, if nothing else. Cal watched her closely, observing, judging. He liked that she wasn’t cocky. If anything, she seemed humble, ready and willing to listen. It wouldn’t have gone over well for anyone who came in making demands and changes, but especially not for a woman. But coming in gently, humbly, quietly made an impression on the men and they began to open up to her, at least a little.

“Thank you all so much,” she said, smiling at them. It helped that she was pretty, Cal conceded, but it was also confusing. How could a woman be both soft and pretty and hard and capable? She was definitely soft and pretty, but maybe she wasn’t as hard and capable as she first seemed. Time would tell. He would give her some leeway, a little bit of rope, andhope she didn’t hang herself with it.

His foreman, Jinx, took her on a tour of the main portion of the ranch. Jinx reported later she carried a little notebook, wrote things down, asked a few pertinent questions, but otherwise didn’t say much.

“She’s a cool customer, that one,” Jinx said, bestowing his unasked opinion.

“You don’t like her?” Cal asked. Jinx had been at the ranch as long as he had, working first for his father before working for him.

“Never said that. Can’t quite get a read on her, but she’s interestin’, real interestin’.”

Cal agreed she was a bit of a riddle, but that annoyed him. He was too busy for riddles. He wanted simple and straightforward, someone to come in and do the job that needed to be done without making him puzzle his head and wonder over her.

“Isabel ain’t gonna be happy,” Jinx added, and Cal’s insides tightened.

“Isabel doesn’t have a say anymore, does she?” Cal asked.

Jinx shrugged. “She could make the girl’s life a misery.”

“The girl’s seen combat in Afghanistan. I think she can handle Isabel.”

Jinx shrugged again, conveying his uncertainty and, despite his words, Cal wasn’t certain either. He’d known his wife long enough to be wary of her and her reactions. Bailey might know how to handle men, but could she handle women? Time would tell on that front, too.

At seven he wearily made his way inside for supper. Estralita, his housekeeper, had left him supper on the stove like usual. Unlike usual, someone else now sat at his table. He almost jumped in surprise when he walked in the kitchen andsaw Bailey sitting at the table, a notebook and pen open in front of her.

“I’m sorry, would you like me to leave?” she asked, noting his reaction even though he tried to hide it.

---