Mistletoe Daddy Page 7

  “Ya think?”

  He paused. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning this isn’t one bit funny.” Why was he playing with her emotions? Apparently he had no idea how difficult all this was for her—even without the calves mooing in the background. Did he really think it would be funny to string her out this way?

  “If I knew what you were talking about I’d probably agree with you.”

  “So you know nothing about the cows.” It wasn’t even close to a question.

  “The cows?” Nick’s query was an actual question. He had the nerve to sound flummoxed, as if he really didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Mmm,” she said noncommittally, deciding to let him dig his own grave.

  “Viv, what cows?” Now his voice had an edge to it.

  “The ones you put in my shop, of course,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat, then two.

  “Vivian, are you in the spa building right now?” His voice was a low growl.

  “Unfortunately for my sense of smell and my new sneakers, I’m afraid so.”

  Not that it was a spa yet. Not even close. In fact, with the stench in the room, it was about as far from anything soothing as it was possible to be.

  “Stay there. I’ll be right over. Better yet, go outside and wait for me. Don’t worry, though. Cows are almost always docile animals. They won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid of them hurting me,” she snapped. She was at the end of her string with this man. What kind of an idiot did he think she was? “But I don’t want them inside my shop. Nick, they lick their noses.”

  So gross.

  He chuckled. “Yes, I guess they do.”

  “This is not a laughing matter.”

  He cleared his throat but she could still hear traces of amusement in his voice. “No. Of course not. Hang tight. I’ll be right there.”

  Vivian waited impatiently for Nick to arrive, rehearsing in her mind all the things she wanted to say to him. She’d probably get flustered and not manage to say half of what she was thinking now, but she continued to fume and plan her rant anyway.

  Given the enormity of the prank, she would have thought he’d be lying in wait, ready to see her immediate reaction to the animals currently lounging in her future place of business. Why had he been sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring? That was weird.

  But she supposed he couldn’t have known exactly when she’d finish her errands and come by the shop. And besides, his little idea of a joke wasn’t going anywhere without his assistance. He had to have known she’d have to call on him to help her get these calves out of her building.

  Oh, irony of ironies.

  When he arrived less than five minutes later her suspicions reinflated, ballooning to new heights. His house was at least a ten-minute drive away, assuming he drove the speed limit. So maybe he had been close—if not watching her, then at the very least hanging out at Cup O’ Jo’s gleefully waiting for her to call.

  As he exited his truck, she planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. He strode forward, lifting his hat and threading his fingers through his thick black hair.

  “Where are the cows, then?” he asked without preamble.

  As if he didn’t know.

  She thumbed over her shoulder, pointing to the door of her shop. “In there.”

  His eyebrows rose to epic heights, as if he still didn’t believe what she was telling him. As if he hadn’t been the one to plant the black-and-white-spotted bovines there in the first place. He’d missed his calling, being a rancher—he was a much better actor than she’d expected.

  She almost believed him.

  He entered the shop with Vivian right on his heels. She didn’t want to miss any of his forthcoming explanation, which she was certain had to be well rehearsed.

  But what if he just laughed at her? After all, this was some kind of cruel prank, aimed at humiliating her.

  He took one look at the cows and then spun around, and ran a hand across his bearded jaw. “Well, they aren’t cows.”

  “What? Of course they’re cows. They aren’t horses, for pity’s sake,” she pointed out acerbically. “I know what a cow looks like, Nick.”

  “No, I meant these little heifers aren’t even close to being full grown.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that makes me feel so much better, then. I have two young cows standing around in my future spa, blinking their big eyes and chewing their cuds. And making a stinky mess with their cow patties, I might add.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Humor lined his voice, though she could tell he was trying to temper it.

  He seriously thought this was funny. It was all she could do not to punch him in the arm, except that she’d probably end up hurting her knuckles on his mass of muscles.

  Thoughtless hulk of a man.

  “I don’t care what you call them. I want you to get your cows out of here now. And don’t bother coming back.”

  “My cows? These aren’t—”

  He paused, then moved forward to press a hand against the flank of the nearest heifer, right above the brand.

  “I don’t—that is—”

  “What?” she demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him. She couldn’t wait to hear his lame excuse.

  “I don’t understand.” She raised her eyebrows and waited. “You’re right. These are my cattle, and this is my brand. The Circle M.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Viv. I honestly don’t know what’s going on right now, or how these calves got in here, but you have to believe me when I tell you I didn’t do this.”

  Oh, she had to believe him, did she? If he thought that, then he didn’t know her very well.

  Not well at all.

  * * *

  Nick couldn’t believe his eyes. Vivian hadn’t been kidding about the live heifers in her shop, however implausible it had seemed when she’d first informed him of it.

  Even worse, before she’d even spoken to him about it, she’d been certain that he was to blame. She hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt at all.

  How could she even think he’d do something like that to her? Even if he didn’t care for her, he’d never do anything so hurtful—not when he knew how much the spa meant to her, and how hard she was working to make it a reality.

  And the truth was, he did like her. They were friends, or at least he’d thought they were. A friend wouldn’t accuse another friend of this kind of prank without solid evidence, would she?

  He’d thought they’d been getting along fairly well. He was committed to seeing the project through to its conclusion.

  And then she’d gone and blamed him for this. She hadn’t even asked—she’d assumed. That hardly seemed fair.

  Resentment flared in his chest. If she didn’t think he was a better man than one who’d do something this hurtful, then it would be better for both of them if she found someone else to do the rest of the labor for her remodel.

  Then again...

  He took a deep, cleansing breath and attempted to think the situation through rationally. Despite his innocence in the matter, he supposed Vivian had good reasons for suspecting him. The evidence did kind of add up against him.

  He had a key to the shop, for one thing. And it was, after all, his brand on the heifers. There was no doubt about it—they were his cattle.

  How they’d gotten there was a mystery—one he intended to solve, not only to vindicate himself, but also to find out who had accessed his herd without his permission. And, most of all, to get back into Vivian’s good graces, although why he should care was beyond him.

  Vivian had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want to see him back again, which r
eally battered his ego. She’d shown more tact than Brittany in not yelling at him in front of the whole town, and yet the words still hurt just as badly. But then again, that was when she thought he’d pulled the sick prank.

  She still thought he had. She’d pulled herself up on the corner of the desk he had brought in for her a few days earlier, her legs dangling and crossed at the ankles. She’d leaned her hands back on the cold metal and was eyeing him speculatively, her expression doubtful.

  “You act as if you’re surprised that it is your brand on your cattle,” she said, narrowing her gaze on him. “Why is that?”

  He shrugged defensively. “Because while I freely admit they are my cattle, I have no idea how they got here.”

  “Ri-i-ght,” she said, drawing out the word. “I’m sure they just wandered in here on their own. Maybe they were hanging around last evening after a night on the town and decided they’d visit my spa and get their hair done. Did you give them the key?”

  “Snarky much?”

  “Well, excuse me for being a little skeptical. It seems to me that all the pieces fit together to make a pretty clear picture of what happened. The evidence against you seems airtight.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, “except for one thing.”

  “And that is?”

  “Me. I’d hoped you knew me better than to assume I could do anything so—”

  “Stupid?”

  He glared at her. “I was going to say dishonorable, but stupid works, too.”

  Her gaze turned from challenging to hesitant and he pressed his advantage, hoping he could convince her of his innocence, although at this point he wasn’t sure if it mattered.

  “Some other knucklehead put these heifers in here. Not me.”

  “But who? And why?”

  He frowned. “That’s what we’ve got to figure out. First, though, I’m going to clean up this mess.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “We will clean up this mess. It’s my salon, after all.”

  Even though Nick wasn’t the one who’d pulled off the thoughtless prank, he still felt guilty about it, though he couldn’t fathom why. Maybe because they were his heifers. Or maybe it was something else—something nagging at the back of his mind that he couldn’t yet put his finger on. But he thought it might have something to do with the wounded look in Vivian’s eyes when she’d accused him of making fun of her.

  He herded the cattle out the back door and corralled them with some old crates, then retrieved the shovel and broom from the bed of his truck. He and Viv worked in uncomfortable silence, Nick shoveling and Vivian sweeping.

  He imagined she was thinking the same thing he was—who was responsible for this juvenile prank? Local teenagers out on a lark? Someone with a grudge against Vivian?

  He couldn’t imagine the latter. Vivian might not be everyone’s cup of tea but she was one of the sweetest women he’d ever met. She’d give a stranger one of her kidneys if they asked her for it. That was just the kind of person she was. Full of heart and genuine compassion.

  No, it couldn’t have anything to do with a personal grudge against her, or the salon. So what was it, then?

  Dusk had fallen by the time they were finished. He scooped the cow patties into a pile near the back door and then transferred them into the field that bordered behind. The stench inside the building wouldn’t go away anytime soon but at least Viv wouldn’t be stepping on cow patties every time she turned around.

  “I’ll bring a trailer over here to pick up the stock,” he told her, leaning against the shovel and wiping the sweat off his brow with the corner of his shirt. “And then we’ll do a little bit of detective work, figure out who did this to you, and why. And how they managed to use my cattle to pull off the prank. I really apologize, Vivian.”

  “What? Why? You didn’t do anything. I should be the one apologizing to you. I jumped all over you. I feel really bad that I blamed you without proof.”

  “As if the open door and my brand on the cattle weren’t enough proof. Thank you for believing me, though.”

  She smiled at him and his stomach flipped over. He must be overtired from all the work he’d been doing. Or hungry. He refused to consider that what he was feeling could be any more than that.

  “Did you want to ride with me back to my ranch?” he asked. “I can drop you by your place afterward. That way you won’t have to worry about the stench of cattle following you into your car.”

  She glanced down at her now-dirty sneakers and frowned. “Would you mind? Alexis can drive me back here later to pick up my car.”

  “Not at all. It’ll only take a few minutes to hitch up the trailer and I could use the company.”

  They talked on the way over to the Circle M, but not about the cattle or the prank. He needed time to mull what had happened over in his head and he imagined Viv felt the same. Instead, Viv chatted steadily about the floral wallpaper she was considering and the specialty massage chairs where a woman could apparently get her feet soaked and her toenails painted while the chair worked on the sore muscles in her back and neck.

  That was what a spa was all about? It kind of sounded awesome.

  The barbershop certainly didn’t offer amenities comparable to that.

  Not that he wanted his toenails painted. But a massage now and again would be nice.

  They reached his ranch and he backed his truck up to his smallest trailer.

  “Just hang out here for a moment while I hook ’er up,” he said. “It won’t take me long.”

  “In the dark? How can you see what you’re doing?” She sounded impressed. His ego ballooned slightly, which felt good, after having it bashed so badly earlier in the day.

  He chuckled. “I’ve had years of practice.”

  He hopped out of the cab and had just reached the hitch when he heard loud chortling coming from inside the barn. He turned toward the noise, frowning.

  He knew that sound. He’d heard it a thousand times growing up—his youngest brother, Slade, trying to pull one over on him, get him in trouble for something he hadn’t done. Slade had been forever trying to dupe him or frame him, although Nick had gotten him back far more often than Slade had been able to prank him.

  Prank him.

  Unbelievable. This had never been about Vivian at all.

  He growled and strode into the barn. He was going to knock Slade’s head so hard he’d see stars.

  “What were you thinking?” he demanded into the darkness, even before he could see the outline of his brother. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  Slade burst forward, laughing and slapping Nick on the back.

  “Good one, huh?” he asked. “I would have loved to see your face when you walked into that shop and saw your cattle hanging out there, big brother.”

  Nick grabbed the collar of Slade’s shirt and gave him a shake. “It wasn’t me who found the heifers, you blooming idiot. It was Vivian, and she was alone. Let’s just say she was not pleased.”

  “Uh-oh,” Slade said. “I figured you guys would be together when you discovered the stock at the shop. I didn’t scare her, did I?”

  “Probably. A little. Mostly you made her angry—not to mention making an absolute mess of the building. How did you get in, anyway?”

  Slade grinned. “I still remember how to pick a lock. And I’ve got to say, that one wasn’t very solid. Vivian ought to look into something a little sturdier.”

  “I’ll let her know you think so,” Nick replied, allowing sarcasm to creep into his voice. “Now, let’s go. Viv is waiting in the truck and you owe her an apology.”

  “It was only a joke,” Slade muttered, sounding just the same as he had when he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar as a child. Apparently getting married and becoming a father hadn’t brought Slade to full maturity
. Probably nothing ever would. He might be a policeman now, but goofing around was just Slade’s nature. That didn’t absolve him from the error of his ways, though.

  “If it was a joke, it was a tasteless one,” Nick felt obligated to point out. “How long have you and Laney been married now, and yet it never occurred to you that it might hurt a woman’s feelings to put livestock in the shop she’s working so hard to remodel?”

  At least Slade had the good grace to wince and look apologetic at Nick’s words.

  Nick grabbed him by the elbow and half pushed, half dragged him back to the truck. He opened the passenger side door and leaned against the door frame.

  “I have a dolt of a brother here who has something to say to you.”

  Not surprisingly, Vivian’s gaze widened in surprise, especially when she saw who he was with.

  “Slade? What’s going on here?”

  “What’s going on,” Nick replied before Slade could get a word in edgewise, “is that this idiot thought it would be funny to play a prank on me by putting my own cattle in the shop where I was working.”

  “A prank on you?” Vivian parroted, clearly stunned. “You mean this wasn’t about me at all?”

  “I didn’t mean any harm by it,” Slade said. “I thought it would be funny.”

  He would. Nick grunted in frustration. How was he supposed to explain the intricacies of the relationship between brothers, the masculine give-and-take? It probably wouldn’t make a bit of sense to a woman, especially one as delicate as Vivian.

  “It wasn’t funny,” Nick growled. “You hurt her feelings. Do you have any idea how she felt when she realized someone had broken into her shop and had left live cattle there?”

  “They made quite a mess,” Vivian admitted. “And they smell, by the way.” She dropped her head into her hands and her shoulders quivered.

  Nick had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He wanted to shake Slade until his teeth rattled. Slade had been the instigator, but at the end of the day, Nick felt that he was the one responsible for making Vivian cry. He might not have been the perpetrator of the prank, but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been working with her.