Fall to Pieces Read Online Free Page A

woman I'd think he had a
constant case of PMS," she said with a wry smile that made his own
lips tingle with the urge to kiss it off her face.
    "So what's going on here?" he said as he
rapped his fist on the tractor's hood, forcing himself back on
task.
    "No idea," she shrugged. "All I know is it
makes this horrible sound every time you start it."
    Dylan nodded and climbed into the cab. He
turned the key and pressed the clutch so he could hear it for
himself. The engine rumble to life, followed almost immediately by
a high pitched squealing noise that made his teeth ache in his jaw.
He quickly killed the engine and hopped down. "Sounds like the
alternator." He popped the hood and peered inside.
    "You can fix it right?" Sadie sidled up next
to him. He tried to ignore the clean soapy smell of her, crawling
into his nostrils even over the seemingly insurmountable
combination of diesel fuel and horse manure surrounding them.
    He nodded. "Shouldn't be too bad. Even if I
have to run into town for a part, I should still have it running by
later this afternoon."
    "Oh thank God," Sadie said, her relief almost
palpable. "We can't afford to delay mowing the south meadow, not if
we want to make the shipment by the end of the month. Especially
after the first cut was so disappointing."
    "Listen to you, miss rancher. And here I
thought you'd turned full on computer nerd."
    "A girl can leave the ranch, but the ranch
never leaves her. Even if I have spent most of the last five years
buried in code," she said with a grin.
    The grin quickly faded to a look of vague
disgust as she looked at a point over his shoulder. "Nice of him to
finally show up," she muttered.
    Dylan turned too, tracking her gaze. He saw a
lean, slightly stoop shouldered form ambling bow leggedly toward
them. Dressed in a long sleeved, snap front shirt, wrangler jeans,
boots and beat up straw hat, he had the unmistakable look of a
career ranch hand.
    As he got closer, Dylan understood the
derisive curl in Sadie's lips, the flare to her fine nostrils as
though she'd smelled something bad. The hand's eyes were bloodshot,
his shirt rumpled as though he'd slept in it and sporting a big
grease stain to boot.
    "Good morning, Miss Sadie," he said in a tone
that stripped any note of respect from the address, his grin
showing teeth stained by coffee and tobacco.
    "Morning Andy," she replied in a tone that
betrayed none of her disdain. "This is Dylan. He's going to fix the
tractor."
    Dylan reached out his hand, noticing the
tremble in Andy's as he shook it.
    You sure you want this guy operating heavy
machinery? he thought as he shot Sadie a pointed look.
    She shrugged as if to say, we have to make
do.
    "Why the hell did Pete roust me when it ain't
even fixed yet?" Andy snarled and let fly with a long stream of
tobacco laced spit that just missed the toes of Sadie's boots.
    Dylan's fist clenched around the wrench in
his right hand.
    "I'm sure he has his reasons," Sadie said in
a cool, poised tone he'd never heard from her before. No longer the
girl who was easily flustered, Sadie's confidence had evidently
grown along with her beauty. "But you can head out as soon as the
tractor's back on line.” Her stare didn't waiver from the scruffy
cowboy's for an instant.
    Dylan felt a spurt of pride that he instantly
squashed. So Sadie was growing into her own. Nothing for him to get
excited about.
    "Thank you so much for helping us out," she
said, turning to Dylan with a smile that had him going all aw
shucks and digging his toe in the dirt. She laid her hand on his
forearm, and the shock of heat from her palm against his bare skin
was so fierce she might as well have slipped it between his
legs.
    "I'm happy to," he said, struggling for words
as all the blood in his body headed south. "Gives me something to
do while I'm here."
    "Of course."
    She pulled her hand away and he forced
himself not to snatch it back.
    "Of course. I didn't mean that you would be
doing a favor or anything special,