Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den

Her chin went airborne as she squared her shoulders and clenched her fists by her sides. “This is where I belong, the only place I belong. I’m here to stay, so you better get used to the idea!” she said, puffing like a blowfish.

They exchanged significant glares, and Devlin was gearing up for a really terrific rejoinder when she slammed the door in his face.

A goose waddled around the corner of the house, honking in objection to Devlin’s presence. A bear growled in the distance, accompanied by several sounds that Devlin couldn’t identify—none of which sounded friendly. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an alligator living in that oversize pond, waiting to bite off his feet if he dared to stalk around to the back of the house.

Pond, he thought. That was another thing that really irritated him, come to think of it. That fire-breathing female had dammed up the spring-fed stream to form a gigantic pond in her pasture. The dam cut off the flow of water to Rocking C’s stream. During the arid summer months Devlin and his brother had been forced to haul water to cattle in the west pasture and fill stock tanks.

Another major inconvenience he failed to mention to the dragon lady.

Devlin had half a mind to reverse his direction, pound on the front door again and insist that she dig a trench in the pond dam. No, on second thought, he’d take the matter up with Sheriff Osborn. Maybe the dragon lady had a legitimate license to shelter exotic animals, but she certainly didn’t have the right to alter the flow of the stream and deprive Rocking C cattle of water.

Wheeling around, Devlin stalked away. The pesky goose lowered its head and charged after him, nipping and honking at his heels. Devlin ignored the feathered pest, piled into his pickup and revved the engine. He sprayed gravel on the low-slung car as he sped away—and he wouldn’t be the least bit sorry if he accidentally cracked the dragon lady’s windshield with flying rock. It would serve her right for being so stubborn.

Devlin muttered to himself as he roared toward home. His brother had recommended using diplomacy when confronting the neighbor lady. Devlin was pretty sure that wouldn’t have worked any better than his direct, confrontational approach. He had noticed the look of disapproval when Jessica Porter gave him the once-over. Hell, he’d have to have been blind in both eyes not to realize she had no use for him. That woman would not have compromised under any circumstances.

What really baffled Devlin was that, despite his irritation, he found her physically attractive. He’d caught himself staring at her body with male appreciation a couple of times during their heated argument and had to jerk his attention to her face. Which didn’t help a whole lot, because she had a bewitching face, to boot. It was humiliating for a man who usually had to fight off women with a stick to know that he liked what he saw and that Miss High and Mighty Porter behaved as if he didn’t measure up to her lofty standards.

What difference did that make? his smarting pride asked. No way would he be interested in dating Porter, not with their conflict over her exotic animals standing between them. And not that he was the teensiest bit interested, Devlin assured himself. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, okay, maybe for a nanosecond—until she’d opened her sassy mouth and let the wisecracks and zingers fly.

Glancing at his watch, Devlin made tracks toward home. It was his brother’s night to cook, and Derrick got bent out of shape when Devlin was late. The Wednesday night menu at Rocking C was always the same: hamburger patties smothered in cream of mushroom soup, fried potatoes and okra. Devlin would have preferred cooked goose—specifically, the one that had appointed itself as Jessica Porter’s guard dog.

Devlin glanced at the cattle herd grazing in the pasture, wondering if he’d wake up in the morning to another stampede. Jessica Porter’s coyotes would probably be howling at the moon, causing the rest of the zoo to join in chorus. The cattle would be to hell and gone by sunrise, Devlin predicted.

He sighed heavily. Tomorrow would undoubtedly test his patience once again.

“STUBBORN, PIGHEADED COWBOY,” Jessica muttered as she doffed her business suit, then snatched up her jeans and T-shirt.

The very last thing she’d needed, after dealing with an unreasonable, demanding client at her accounting office, was to confront her annoying neighbor. She had lived in this community for almost six months, and not once had Devlin Callahan dropped by to welcome her. Oh, no, the jerk hadn’t bothered to set foot on the place until he came to complain and shout ultimatums at her.

It hadn’t helped that Jessica encountered Devlin immediately after opening her credit card statement to discover that her two-timing ex-fiancé had charged a Caribbean cruise, for two, to her account. Damn the man! No, damn all men in general, she corrected bitterly. Why not? Every frustration she’d dealt with during the course of the day had come at the hands of the male of the species.

“Hell of a day, Jess,” she said to herself as she exited her bedroom and trotted down the staircase. There was one surefire way to lighten her black mood, and that was to wander among the exotic animals that had become her charges.

Jessica smiled fondly when her guard goose greeted her on the back porch and performed its usual head-dipping ritual. The goose followed her across the lawn to retrieve feed from the barn. With each step Jessica took toward the pens and cages in the distance, the day’s tension drained away. Despite what Devlin Callahan presumed, these animals could not be returned to the wilds because of their handicaps and special needs. They needed her, she reminded herself, and that cowboy with the attitude wasn’t going to force her to relocate them.

Jessica’s lifelong love of animals and her tendency to pick up strays had become a crusade during her post-college years in Tulsa, where she had learned the ropes of the accounting business. Her high-dollar salary had allowed her to purchase acreage to house her exotic animals, but the generous offer from an industrial corporation convinced her to sell the property and relocate. Jessica had quadrupled her investment and decided to move to the laid-back hamlet of Buzzard’s Grove to establish her own accounting office.

The decision hadn’t been difficult because there were no close family ties to consider, only a few friends from the office who had their own families and personal lives.

Then, of course, there was her ex-fiancé—the hotshot Triple-A baseball star whose idea of a road trip included notching his bedpost with different women from different cities. It was only by accident that Jessica discovered Rex’s womanizing tendencies and promptly canceled their engagement. Humiliated, outraged, Jessica had packed up her animals and moved to the country. Unfortunately, Rex the ex had the last laugh when he billed charges to her credit card.

First thing in the morning, Jessica intended to cancel her MasterCard and contact American Express. She was not paying for Rex’s getaways again.

Jessica inhaled a breath of fresh country air, exhaled slowly and told herself to get a grip. Rex was history. She’d played the naive fool once, but never again. She vowed to avoid those macho, chauvinistic jock types—like her disagreeable neighbor. Just because she found Devlin Callahan physically appealing, what with his shock of raven hair, midnight-black eyes, broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles and horseman’s thighs, didn’t mean she was the slightest bit interested in getting involved with him. Besides, she needed to channel her time and energy into making a success of her business venture, refurbishing the house and providing care for her animals.

Jessica had known the moment she laid eyes on this forty-acre plot, with its rolling hills and thick groves of cottonwoods, elms and redbud trees, that she had finally found a place that felt like home. She had spent most of her life leaving behind what took forever to become comfortable and familiar. But she had known instinctively that she could happily put down roots here.

A sense of peace stole over her as she strode from one pen to the next, greeting and feeding her many charges. The brown bear she called Teddy performed his swaying ritual, then hobbled forward on his gimpy leg to devour the food Jessica placed in his pen. Each animal had its own way of greeting her, its special traits, that made her feel as if she was visiting with a dear friend.

Thoughts of her fussy client, Edgar Stokes, her aggravating neighbor and her traitorous ex skittered off in the evening breeze. Ah, yes, country life was the life for her. These maimed animals depended on her. Like Jessica, they were outcasts that didn’t quite fit into society. That was okay, Jessica consoled herself. She had accepted the fact that she was an outsider, a misfit. But she and her unusual pets had settled into these wide-open spaces, and life was good.

Mother Goose honked, jolting Jessica from her pensive musings. “Not to worry, Mother, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

With the plump white goose waddling at her heels, Jessica ambled into the barn to scatter grain for her feathered friend. By the time Jessica returned to the house to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave her mood had brightened considerably. She wondered if her grouchy neighbor’s mood had eased after their heated encounter. Not that she cared if he left mad and stayed that way. All she cared was that he left and never came back.

Fact was that Devlin Callahan’s appearance triggered bitter memories of the time when she had fallen for a handsome face and muscled body. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Until she met a man who was willing to give as much as he took, someone who wasn’t interested in the tidy sum of money she’d made when she sold her property on the outskirts of Tulsa, she planned to avoid men, especially the ones who looked as if they stepped off a poster for Tall, Dark and Handsome. No, sirree, she wasn’t going to fall for some hunk of a cowboy who had the disposition of a wounded rhinoceros.

Lord, she still couldn’t believe that idiotic man tried to blame his problem with his flighty cattle on her, expected her to pay for his time and expenses. What unmitigated gall he had!

Refusing to give Devil Devlin another thought, Jessica shoved her frozen dinner in the microwave, then pivoted to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea.

DERRICK CALLAHAN slopped three hamburger patties, swimming in cream soup, on his plate, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps that heralded his brother’s arrival. “’Bout time. I decided not to wait any longer. I have a date tonight and I have no intention of showing up late just because you can’t get your sorry butt back here on time.”

“Date? In the middle of the week?” Devlin inquired as he plucked up his plate for the buffet-style meal sitting on the counter.

“Yeah? So?” Derrick challenged. “What’s the matter with that? People do date on weekdays, you know.”

“Only if they’re getting serious.” Devlin scooped up a large helping of fried okra, then moved on to the bowl of fried potatoes. “You and that new restaurant owner getting serious, are you?”

“Maybe,” Derrick mumbled noncommittally, then pivoted toward the oblong oak table that sat in the middle of the spacious dining area. He used his free hand to scrape scattered mail out of his way, then plopped down on a chair. “So, how did your encounter go with the neighbor lady?”

Devlin might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew a diversion tactic when he heard one. His brother didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassie Dixon, the vivacious brunette whose new café was the talk of the town. The fact that Derrick wanted to keep his relationship with Cassie a secret from his own brother, his only living relative, suggested that Derrick was already in over his head and sinking fast. Not that Devlin blamed his brother. Cassie Dixon had class, style and personality—unlike the female fruitcake with the attitude who lived down the road.

“Well?” Derrick prompted.

Devlin glanced up from his heaped plate. “Well, what?”

“Did you convince our neighbor to relocate her zoo so it won’t disturb our livestock?”

“No, she slammed the door in my face after lambasting me with insults,” Devlin grumbled as he grabbed his fork. “The woman has a chip the size of Mount Rushmore on her shoulder, and her brain is obviously solid rock. There’s no getting through to her, not without a jackhammer and dynamite.”

Derrick rolled his eyes, then stared at his brother. “In other words, you used your standard, give-’em-hell approach and butted heads with her. I distinctly remember telling you to use diplomacy.”

“Diplomacy wouldn’t have done any good,” Devlin said.

Derrick shook his head and sighed audibly. “It is totally beyond me why you didn’t use your lady-killer smile and charm on her. There isn’t an eligible female in Buzzard County who can resist you when you turn on the charm. You shouldn’t have gone over to the neighbor’s house while you were hot under the collar. I tried to tell you to wait until you’d cooled off. But no, you climbed off your horse after roundup and blazed off. I know how you operate, Dev. When in doubt you start yelling, as if that ever solves problems. It almost never works with women. Next time, try being tactful.”

The last thing he needed was a lecture from his brother, who had a history of leaving the difficult situations for Devlin to solve. Diplomacy? Hell!

“There won’t be a next time,” Devlin muttered crankily. “If you think the charming, chivalrous approach will work—and I’ll bet money that it won’t—then you can march your candy butt over there and try to reason with her. After all, you’ve got the identical smile and more charm than I do.”

Derrick threw up his hand like a traffic cop. “Me? No way. Just because we’re identical twins doesn’t mean I’m going over there after you screwed up. She’ll take one look at me and think I’m you. I’ll get nowhere.”

“Well, she started it with her snide remarks,” Devlin said self-righteously. “But I’ll admit that it didn’t help when I accidentally smacked her right between the eyes when she abruptly opened the door.”

Derrick groaned in dismay. “Well, there you go. What do you expect? If it had been me—” he tapped himself proudly on the chest “—I would have politely rung the doorbell, not hammered on the door. The accident would never have happened.”

Devlin bared his teeth and glared at his twin. The thing about being an identical twin was that you never felt as if you had your own individuality, especially when you had to sit across the table every night and work side by side every day. Especially when Derrick was forever handing out free advice, just because he was all of three minutes older and considered himself twice as smart.