Breaking the Rules (1st in Breaking Series)

Chapter Three

Elizabeth pulled on her trousers and her white blouse the next morning. She pulled on her black, worn out, mud covered boots. She wrapped the braid in her hair around her head and hid it beneath her sweat stained brown hat.

She walked down the hall and met her pa in the living room.

"What are you doing?" he demanded when he saw her outfit.

"Going to work." she replied matter of factly.

"Grant is on his way here! I'm expecting him any time."

"Well I guess Mr. Foster will see who I really am today then won't he?" Ernest grumbled under his breath.

"You have to be difficult don't you?" he demanded and then he began to cough. The coughing lasted several long moments and Elizabeth went to him and rubbed his back hoping to calm him. He was gasping and breathing heavily once the cough subsided and he looked suddenly weak and tired. Elizabeth led him over to the couch and forced him to sit down.

"Rest pa. I'm gonna head into town and get the doc." she said as she grabbed her gun belt and pistol from the hook by the door and hooked it around her waist.

"I'm fine." Ernest said stubbornly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and looked at Anita who was just walking into the living room.

"He stays on this couch until I get back with the doc." she said and Anita nodded.

"Okay." she said and she set her watchful gaze on Ernest who grumbled and slouched down like an angry child.

"Take one of the men with you." he called as Elizabeth started out the door. "It's not safe to go alone."

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Brody went into the barn to saddle a horse for the ride. The other hands that were checking cattle had already left out. Brody was running late because he'd worked with the mare he'd been trying to tame for a few hours this morning.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his cigarette hanging off his lip when he saw the person saddling a mare in the center of the barn. The person had their back to him and was wearing pants, a work shirt, boots and a hat but those shapely hips and that tight curved ass left no doubts in his mind that this was a woman.

Brody stared for several minutes longer then was proper, but any red blooded man would have stared at a sight like that. Was she a ranch hand or was she some kind of sexy little thief? He didn't know but he planned to find out.

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Elizabeth was just finishing up, hooking the saddle to the young mare named Chocolate, when the smell of tobacco smoke came to her nostrils. She turned quickly and then nearly gasped out loud at the sight of the tall man who was standing about a foot away from her with an amused, cocky grin on his rugged, stubble covered face.

He was tall, easily six and a half feet and he was clearly strong and lean beneath his black work shirt and trousers. He had a gun belt slung low on his lean hips and chaps on his long legs. His sweaty shirt hugged close to his flat stomach and his broad chest emphasizing the tight muscles that covered both.

His face was all hard, rugged lines and shapes. His nose was long and straight, his cheekbones were high and clearly defined. A pale scar went across the tan skin of his cheek, causing a break in the stubbly beard he was growing. His eyes were deep green, darker then emeralds and small lines creased in their corners from years spent squinting into the sunlight. His brown hair was longer then most men's and hung to his shoulders beneath his sweat stained black hat.

"Who the hell are you?" she snapped once she found her voice. The man took the cigarette from his mouth and licked his firm lips.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his voice was strong and deep and it caused a wave of awareness to wash over her. She was suddenly all to aware that she was a woman and he was a man. A very dirty, sweaty, masculine man. This awareness made her angry. She was not the type of woman to swoon at the sight of any man.