Untamed Cowboy

Some days, Carina Lockett despaired of finding decent help. Today was one of those days. She eyed the ranch hand sleeping in the shadows of the chuck wagon with disgust. If she hadn't been looking for him, she would've missed him, half-hidden there behind a pile of bedrolls. His intent, no doubt. To let the rest of the C Bar C outfit return to work after the noon meal while he stayed back and took a leisurely snooze. "Tsk, tsk," Woollie said from his saddle beside her. "He's not used to hard work, is he? Guess he's plumb wore out from having to do some." Her foreman, Woollie Morgan, was the closest thing she had to a father since her own was killed almost a dozen years ago. He knew as well as she did spring roundup on her ranch required every man to pull his weight. No exceptions. "I should fire him, the lazy bastard." Woollie squinted into the sun, and all traces of his mockery faded. "You've already fired two men this week. We're short as it is." She made a sound of impatience. It hadn't been easy scraping up a few good men to add to the Lockett payroll, the extra hands she needed for this year's roundup. Every rancher in these parts hired additional cowboys, too, to do the same thing she was doinggathering up the stray cattle from the range for branding before the herds went on the market. Which made ranch hand pickings scarce. She paid the ones she took on as much as she could. A fair wage, for sure. And she expected each man to earn it. "Give him another chance, Carina," Woollie said. "Reckon he could've done worse." As much as it pained her, she didn't have a choice. She'd have to keep the worthless lout, but she refused to tolerate his laziness. She dismounted. Her boot soles crunched dirt as she strode toward the chuck wagon. She flung one bedroll away from the heap, another and then another, until she exposed Orlin Fahey sprawled full in front of her. His hat covered his face, his hands clasped over his potbelly, and he was so blazes deep in his nap, he didn't even realize she was there. She toed him hard in the ribs. "Get up, Orlin." He jerked, whipped his hat from his face and sat bolt upright. "What the?" Carina knew she made an imposing figure standing over him with her feet spread and her hands on her hips. Her riding skirt and cotton blouse reminded him she was a woman, but it was the holster strapped to her hips that reminded him she was the boss. "Now hold on, Miss Lockett." He scrambled to get to his feet, blinking fast to clear the sleep from his focus. He pushed his hat back onto his head and attempted to throw some charm into an uneasy grin. "No need to get yourself in a dither, is there? Might be I shouldn't have fallen asleep, but there ain't been no harm done, has there?" Dither? Carina Lockett had been called many things in the time since she owned the C Bar C, but a dithering female wasn't one of them. "I'm not paying you to sleep off your dinner," she said in a cold voice. "But now that you have, you'll feel up to a few hours of cutting wood after you finished the day's work. Sourdough's supply is running low. If you refuse, you're welcome to leave." Hope built in her that he would. "But don't forget you're riding C Bar C horses out here. You're eating C Bar C grub. It's a long walk back to town." She dropped a condescending glance to the flesh his shirt had trouble holding in above his trousers. "And that belly of yours will get to feeling mighty empty along the way." He muttered something unintelligible, but the distinct sound of an oath came through. She knew the reason for the curse. Had seen it often enough to know it was coming. "Are you having trouble taking orders from a woman, Orlin?" His face reddened, and the resentment shimmered from him like heat off hot tar. "I'll follow your orders all right,MissLockett," he said finally, pushing the words throCrooks, Pam is the author of 'Untamed Cowboy ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373294572 and ISBN 0373294573.