Wyoming Tough Read Online Free Page B

arm.
    â€œI like tractors,” Morie said simply. She glared at the other woman, whose obviously tinted blond hair was worn loose, with gem clips holding it back. She was dressed in a clinging silk dress with high, spiky heels and a sweater. It was barely May, and some days were still chilly. “Something wrong with that?”
    â€œIt’s not very womanly, is it?” Gelly sighed. She shifted in a deliberate way that emphasized her slender curves. She moved closer to Malloryand beamed up at him. “I’d much rather browse in a Victoria’s Secret shop,” she purred.
    â€œOh, yes, I can certainly see myself dipping cattle wearing one of those camisole sets,” Morie replied with a rueful grin.
    â€œI can’t see you wearing anything…feminine, myself,” Gelly returned. Her smile had an ugly edge to it. “You aren’t really a girlie girl, are you?”
    Morie, remembering how she’d turned heads in a particularly exquisite oyster-colored gown from a famous French designer, only stared at Gelly without speaking. The look was unanswerable, and it made the other woman furious.
    â€œI hate tractors, and it’s chilly out here,” Gelly told Mallory, tugging at his arm. “Can’t we get a cappuccino in that new shop next to the florist?”
    Mallory shrugged. “Suits me.” He glanced at Morie. “Want to come?” he asked.
    Morie was shocked and pleased by the request. The boss, taking the hired help out for coffee? She pondered doing it, just to make the other woman even madder. Gelly was flushed with anger by now.
    â€œThanks,” she said. “But I’m having fun looking at the equipment.”
    Gelly relaxed and Mallory seemed perplexed.
    â€œI’m buying,” he added.
    Which indicated that he thought Morie couldn’t afford the expensive coffee and was declining forthat reason. She felt vaguely offended. Of course, he knew nothing about her background. Her last name might be unusual, but she’d seen it in other states, even in other countries. He wasn’t likely to connect a poor working girl with a famous cattleman, even if he might have met her father at some point. He ran Santa Gertrudis cattle, and her father’s Santa Gertrudis seed bulls were famous, and much sought after at very high prices, for their bloodlines.
    She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, thanks, but not today.”
    Mallory smiled oddly. “Okay. Have fun.”
    â€œThanks.”
    They moved away, but not quickly enough for her to miss Gelly’s muttered, “Very egalitarian of you to offer cappuccino to the hired help,” she said in a tone that stung. “I bet she doesn’t even know what it is.”
    Morie gritted her teeth. One day, lady, she thought, you’re going to get yours.
    She turned back to the tractors with a sigh.
    A red, older-model sports car roared up at the office building and stopped in a near skid. The door opened and closed. A minute later, a pleasant tall man with light brown hair and dark eyes came up to her. He was wearing a suit, unusual in a rural town, except for bankers.
    He glanced at her with a smile. “Looking to buy something?”
    â€œMe? Oh, no, I work on a ranch. I just like heavy equipment.”
    His eyebrows arched. “You do?”
    She laughed. “I guess it sounds odd.”
    â€œNot really,” he replied. “My mom always said she married my dad because he surrounded himself with backhoes and earthmovers. She likes to drive them.”
    â€œReally!”
    â€œMy dad owns this.” He waved his hand at the tractors. “I’m sales and marketing,” he added with a grimace. “I’d rather work in advertising, but Dad doesn’t have anybody else. I’m an only child.”
    â€œStill, it’s not a bad job, is it?” she asked pleasantly.
    He chuckled. “Not bad at all, on some days.” He extended a