Marie Ferrarella - Christmas Cowboy Duet

She didn’t like being wrong. Having that pointed out to her was a pet peeve of hers and she had trouble ignoring it. “I was just following the map—”

“Guess your map’s wrong, then,” Liam informed her simply.

“I’m beginning to get that impression,” she answered with a barely suppressed sigh.

Chapter Three

“Now, there’s something you don’t see every day,” Mick commented.

Before either Liam or Whitney could ask what he was referring to, the mechanic pointed behind them. Turning, they saw a bright orange cherry picker being driven straight toward them.

Maybe this was going to turn out all right after all, Whitney thought.

“Somebody put out a call for a cherry picker?” the machine’s operator, Henry MacKenzie, asked cheerfully as he climbed down from inside the cab. He approached Liam, obviously assuming that he was the one in charge. “Ms. Carmichael told me to tell you that this baby is at your disposal for as long as you need it. I guess, by association, I am, too. Unless you know how to operate this thing and want to do the honors yourself,” the tall, burly man added.

Henry, along with several others on the construction crew, had initially been sent out from Houston by the construction company’s business manager, Stewart Emerson. Highly skilled laborers, they were needed to operate the machinery that had been shipped out to do the basic foundation work for Forever’s first hotel.

At this point, that part of the project had been finished more than a month ago, but the men—and their machines—had been instructed to remain on-site until the project was completed. Emerson had paid them well to remain in Forever and on call—just in case some unforeseen glitch suddenly made their services necessary.

Eager though he might have been to try his hand at operating the fancy forklift’s controls, Liam had no desire to risk retrieving the car from out of the tree merely to satisfy his own curiosity. One wrong move on his part and the car was liable to become a thousand-piece puzzle.

He definitely didn’t want to be the one responsible for that unfortunate turn of events.

“No, haven’t got a clue,” Liam confessed. “She’s all yours.”

Henry nodded his head, clearly expecting the reply he’d just heard.

“So why do you think you need a cherry picker way out here?” Henry asked. He looked from Liam to Mick and then to Whitney.

“Because of that,” Liam answered, pointing to one of the trees along the basin.

“That tree?” Henry asked. “Why would you— Oh.” The cherry picker’s operator stopped abruptly as he took in the entire scene and finally saw the precariously perched vehicle. He laughed shortly as he shook his head in wonder. “You people sure don’t make things easy out here, do you?”

Anxious about the condition of her sports car, Whitney cut to the chase. “Do you think you can get it down?” she asked.

“Oh, I can get it down, all right. But it’s not going to be easy and it’s not going to be fast,” Henry warned. “And it might not even be in one piece. But I can get it down,” he reasoned.

Getting the car piecemeal wasn’t going to do her any good. “How long would it take you if you took the proper precautions to get it down in one piece?” Whitney asked.

“Won’t know until I start,” Henry answered. “I’m also going to have to have someone working with me,” he added, giving the situation further thought. “This is not a one-man job.”

“What do you need?” Liam asked.

“I need someone in the basket,” Henry said, nodding at the extreme upper part of the cherry picker. “To secure the car,” he explained. “Otherwise, the damn thing’ll just come crashing down to the ground the second we try to move it.”

“Tell me what to do,” Liam told the operator, volunteering for the job.

Henry laughed softly to himself. “The first thing you need to do is back away from the cherry picker and let me call someone on-site,” the man said seriously. “No offense—and thanks for the offer—but this’ll go a whole lot better and faster if someone with experience is doing it.”

Liam took no offense at being turned down. “I get it. But in the interest of time, I thought I’d volunteer.” And then he felt compelled to add, “Securing a car isn’t rocket science.”

“Might not be rocket science,” Henry agreed, “but one wrong move and no car, either. Hey, it don’t matter to me one way or the other, but I think this little lady might have something to say about it.” Henry’s small, deep-set brown eyes darted toward her.

Whitney was still having trouble wrapping her mind around this rather strange turn of events: first she nearly drowned, and then her vehicle was thrown into a tree. It all felt like some sort of a bizarre nightmare. A small part of Whitney thought that she’d actually wake up at any moment.

The more practical side of her, however, knew that was not about to happen. Her car really was stuck in a tree—and would remain there unless drastic measures were taken.

“Do whatever it takes,” Whitney told the machine operator.

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry replied. He was on his cell phone in less than five seconds, calling for one of the other crew members to come out. “Need a hand here, Rick,” he said to the man who had answered his call. “You’re not going to believe this,” he added with a deep chuckle. “No, I’m not going to tell you. This you’ve got to come out and see for yourself. Boss lady okayed this job,” he added in case there were any questions about priorities. Henry rattled off the same directions to Rick that he had been given earlier.

With that part of it taken care of, Liam turned his attention to Mick. “Looks like it’s going to be a while before they have the car on solid ground,” Liam told the mechanic. “Why don’t you go back to the shop? I can call you once the car’s ready to be looked over,” Liam suggested.

Mick raised his rather wide shoulders and then let them drop again in a dismissive shrug. “Ain’t got no other place to be right now,” he confessed. “Mrs. Abernathy took her old Buick last night so there’s nothing for me to work on in the shop. I might as well stay here and watch history being made,” Mick said philosophically, his eyes all but glowing with fascination as he stared up at the treed vehicle.

“Suit yourself,” Liam said. “You don’t mind if I take her to the diner to get a bite to eat, do you?” he asked, indicating Whitney. Since he was the one who had put in the call to Mick in the first place, he felt a little guilty about leaving the man here more or less on call.

“Not as long as you bring me back somethin’,” Mick qualified.

“Like what?”

Mick began to slowly circle the tree, searching for the path of least resistance. “Surprise me,” Mick answered.

Having been privy to the entire exchange, Whitney frowned—deeply. Granted there was a part of her that longed for a strong, forceful man to take charge. However, the greater part of Whitney was wary of someone usurping her control over her life and that was exactly the part that was presently balking at what Liam had just told his mechanic friend.

“What if I don’t want to go for ‘a bite’?” Whitney asked.

“I’m not about to force-feed you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Liam said, then asked, “You’re not hungry?”

She wanted to say no, she wasn’t. The problem was that she was hungry. Very.

As if to bear witness to that, her stomach suddenly rumbled—not quietly but all too loudly.

“If you’re not hungry,” Liam continued, “I think you should tell your stomach because I get the definite impression that your stomach seems to think it’s very hungry.”