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Red Hot Poker

A Love Story Written by Willow Windsong

 

‘Who the devil are you?’ the tall, dark, handsome cowboy interrogated, Kelly suddenly uncertain about stepping out from the frail protection of the screen door and onto the wraparound porch of her grandfather’s ranch house to address him.

First, the stranger had rang the doorbell repeatedly like a rabid skunk; then he’d reverted to banging on the door prompting Kelly to leave her recuperating grandfather and race to the door.

Baby blue eyes swept up and down his tall, lean form. He was handsome alright – looking as if he’d just stepped off of a Spaghetti Western in full loaded gear.

‘I’m Kelly Parker, Abraham Parker’s granddaughter,’ she finally managed through the pregnant silence, the cowboy’s intense stare pronounced and piercing, adding to her uncertainty. ‘And you’re?’

‘Rob Tyler from the Wicked Witch Ranch,’ he bit out, his tone rancid as he delivered a nod to the adjacent property.

The wince that the lady produced didn’t go unnoticed by his dark eyes. He’d named his operation based on his previous experience with women and based on such, it was highly unlikely to change.

She eyed him thoughtfully for a moment before deciding that both the man and the name of his ranch were intimidating. Not that it was the first time she’d heard of it; she’d passed it on multiple occasions when she had transported her grandfather to town and back as well as on her many visits to his ranch.

‘So we’re neighbors. It’s nice to finally meet you,’ Kelly eased out, her full pink lips curving into a welcoming smile. A bright smile always made things better, right? And she had no quarrel with this cowboy.

 

Wrong, she realized as the cowboy went ruler-straight,the handsome face darkening, the black eyes narrowing at her.

‘No time for chit-chat, Ms. Parker. I need a word with your grandfather,’ he told her in a direct tone.

Kelly shook her head negatively, the long loose curls moving with her.

‘Grandfather took a spill early this morning. He’ll be out of commission for a few weeks.’

The impatient cowboy’s face darkened and she felt his impatience grow. ‘I see. Then I need to speak with the person in charge.’

‘That would be me,’ Kelly eased out, attempting another bright smile, albeit with great effort.

Perhaps there was a reason for Rob Tyler’s sour mood. A sick tummy, a saddle sore, or perhaps his wife had denied him some morning pleasure...

He was a handsome devil alright, and if he were gagged she suspected that the experience would be quite delightful.

She felt her face blush, wondering why that thought had surfaced. In fact, based on the man’s foul mood she felt acutely sorry for his wife. Why – no wonder she had refused him.

 

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