Chapter Six

"So you were in the war, Brody?" Thomas asked a week later as Brody, Thomas and Elizabeth were crouched down, pounding fences in the south pasture. Brody had been doing good at avoiding the woman until this morning when she'd shown up in the pasture to help with the fence repairs after a big storm had come through and damaged fences all over the ranch.

"Yeah, I was in the war," Brody replied as his scarred and calloused hand pounded in a nail with just one swing of the hammer.

"What side did you fight for? The north or the south?" Thomas asked with an eager smile. He'd been too young to serve in the war himself but he had wanted to. It had always seemed to him like an exciting and fun place to be.

Brody shot an annoying glance at the other man before pulling a nail from between his lips to pound into the weathered pieces of wood, "South," he grunted.

"Let me guess, your family owned some big plantation and slaves? That would certainly explain how arrogantly you carry yourself all the time," Elizabeth cut in.

Grant had been by every day since their lunch and she had grown fond of him. She saw him as a..... friend. There was no fire or heat or intensity between them and she wanted those things. She and her pa had gotten into a big fight this morning over the marriage and she had come to the south pasture to get away from him, hide from Grant whenever he came today, and burn off some steam with hard labor. The fact that Brody had been here to irritate had simply been a plus. She loved watching the man bristle whenever she told him what to do. It was clear he hated taking orders from a woman.

"Actually, Miss McCready," Brody replied in a voice so calm and controlled it gave away none of the anger that was raging within him. The rage that always accompanied the memories of what had happened to his family that summer day nine years ago, in 1861. "My family was poor. We lived in little more than a shack in Virginia."

Elizabeth shrugged and moved a little further down the fence with her nails and hammer, though making sure she stayed within hearing distance because she wanted to hear all she could about the war that had killed so many American men.

"So how many of those Yankee bastards did you get, Brody?" Thomas asked excitedly. Brody sank another nail deep in the wood, realizing that Thomas hadn't nailed a single one since starting the conversation, and sighed. He liked Thomas. The eighteen year old was a good boy and seemed to genuinely like life but right now he was getting on his last nerve. Brody didn't want to think about the darkest part of his twenty-five years of life.

"Not enough, obviously. They won," he replied.

Thomas laughed loudly and even Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh lightly. She was too busy nailing the boards to see Brody's sharp gaze land on her and his eyes narrow.

"You're like a real tough guy, ain't ya?" Thomas asked with awe. "I mean you fought in the war and then you wandered from town to town, living out of saddlebags and off sheer grit and determination for five years afterward!" Brody just shrugged and moved on down the line of the fences.

"How old are you, Brody?" Elizabeth asked.

"Twenty-five, Miss McCready." Brody replied without looking at her. He didn't want to admit the way her laughter made his heart beat just a little faster. She was the most infuriating woman he'd ever met and all he wanted was to get to know her better.

"When did you enlist?" she asked, doing the math in her head. Twenty-five minus nine was sixteen, so she knew he must have enlisted somewhere in the middle of the four year war.

"The summer of '61."

"But you would have only been sixteen!" she exclaimed as she lowered her hammer and stared at him. He looked over at her and as always his eyes on her caused her to feel suddenly overheated. Even hotter than she had already been in the hot Texas sun.

"You can do math," he replied dryly, preferring to keep her bristly rather than awestruck and interested.

"I'm much smarter then you, I'm sure," she said, rushing to defend herself in front of Thomas. "I got every year of schooling available."

"Good for you, Miss McCready. I was too busy plowin' fields and then that turned into too busy shootin' people, to worry about school." Elizabeth suddenly felt guilty that she had criticized him. She was worried about her father, irritated at her father's persistence that she get a husband, and annoyed by Grant's constant presence, but none of those things were Brody's fault. She realized in that moment that she had been taking all of her negative emotions out on Brody since he'd arrived at the ranch because he had been an unfamiliar and easy target. Suddenly she felt very ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Brody." she said softly.

Brody stared at her in shock, having never heard that soft, kind voice directed at him, "Uh.. Don't worry about it Miss McCready." he replied after several long moments.

Thomas looked at both of them, staring at each other so intently, and grinned, "Would you two like to be alone?" he asked, elbowing Elizabeth in the arm playfully.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and tore her eyes away from Brody', "Don't you have work to be doing?" she snapped, her ice queen persona firmly back in place. Thomas nodded quickly, grabbed his hammer and bag of nails and moved down the fence away from the two of them.

"Why do you do that?" Brody asked once they were alone.

"Do what?"

"Treat everybody like they are the dirt beneath your boot heel."

Elizabeth's hammer stopped in mid air and she looked over at him with disbelief, "I don't do that!" she exclaimed.

Brody pulled off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow with his white shirt sleeve and nodded as he laid his arm over his bent knees, "Yes you do. But I don't think you're really a bitch."

"Excuse me?!" she exclaimed and Thomas snorted and then quickly moved further down the fence line to ensure he'd be out of the way of flying hammers.

"It was a compliment," Brody replied with a shrug as he put his hat back on and turned his attention back to the fence.

"That was the most backhanded compliment I've ever heard," she stated harshly.

"Doesn't change the fact that I meant it as a compliment, Miss McCready," Brody wasn't the type to sugarcoat words or bother with sweet talk. He said what he thought and figured people could either take it or leave it, it was up to them.

Elizabeth huffed and pounded the nail in, picturing Brody's arrogant face on its head, "Do you have any idea what I go through out here?" she demanded angrily. Brody shook his head but didn't look up from the fence beam he was nailing. "Every new man that comes thinks he can run over me just cuz I'm a woman! And then half of the hands that are already here say things to me that you'd expect to hear 'em say to a whore in town and think they can get away with it because I'm a woman! I have to be tougher and meaner than any man would have to be in order to show them they can't just treat me however they want to treat me!"

Brody tried to open his mouth to speak but Elizabeth was on a roll now and had become an unstoppable, emotional, ranting woman, on a mission to make him see why she was the way she was.

"Then there's my father! Don't get me wrong I love my father but he was always irritated because I wasn't born with a pecker 'tween my legs. I had to work hard and bust my backside just to earn his respect, and I finally did it! I know this ranch inside and out, backwards and forwards, but still men doubt me! Now he's pushing me to get married... Married! To Grant! Can you imagine me and that city boy? Why, he'd be home cleaning and taking care of the babies while I'm out running cattle....." Elizabeth stopped ranting as Brody's chuckling filled the air. Her first thought was how nice the sound was and her next was, why in the world was he laughing at her.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

Brody tried to keep a straight face but found it impossible as his grin stayed firmly in place, "I ain't never heard a woman go off like that before, Miss McCready. Most women I've ever met have been prim and proper types. They would have sooner died then yell and cuss and they certainly wouldn't have said the word pecker."

Elizabeth felt a blush color her cheeks as Thomas laughed further down the way. "Hush Thomas. She's your boss, dammit," Brody scolded.

"I'm your boss too," Elizabeth replied without conviction.

"Yes, ma'am," Brody said with a tip of his hat.

Elizabeth squinted into the sun, "I know I'm not a proper lady and most men see me as less of a woman because of that."

"Well I ain't most men, Miss McCready," he admitted, "'Course I've been told a time or two that I'm an arrogant son of a bitch, so maybe I'm not the best judge of character."

Elizabeth found herself smiling and heat filled her again when he smiled broadly. It wasn't a smooth polished smile like Grant's. It was rugged and caused the scar on his cheek to look slightly more harsh. His teeth weren't perfect, they weren't the bright white that Grant's were and there was a small gap between the two front ones, but those eyes... Those green eyes lit up when he smiled and sent a womanly tremble down her spine.

"I don't think you're a son of a bitch," Elizabeth replied as she quickly turned her attention back to the fence. She had never had feelings like this toward a man. The two hands she had kissed had merely been out of curiosity and the one man she had had sex with had not necessarily been by her own choice. He had been very forceful, plain and simple, and then had dared her to be a typical woman and say he forced her, so of course she hadn't.

But Brody? Brody made her mad enough to spit one moment and hot enough to light the prairie itself on fire in the next. She found herself wondering what those calloused hands would feel like on her cheeks. What those firm lips would feel like pressed against hers. She knew it would never happen though. Her father had strict rules and she wouldn't do anything to make the man lose his job.

A comfortable silence fell over the trio as they continued their work. Elizabeth and Brody developed a rhythm. She would hold the board, he would pound, and then as a unit they would move to the next board, keeping everything perfectly straight and in line. She was amazed that neither needed to say a word in order for the other to understand what they needed them to do.

The day ended too soon as far as Elizabeth was concerned and soon they were heading back to the ranch. Thomas rode on ahead but Brody and Elizabeth stayed closer together as they led their horses at a slow pace through the long grasses.

"We work well together," Elizabeth said, breaking the silence.

Brody nodded as he lit a cigarette, "Yep."

"Why aren't you married, Brody?" she asked.

Brody nearly choked on the smoke he'd just drawn into his lungs. After a moment of coughing he looked over at her as if she'd lost her mind, "What?"

"You're handsome enough," she shrugged. 'Handsome enough to turn even me, the ice queen, into a pile of stuttering nerves' she thought. "And you seem like a good man. Why aren't you married?"

"Because, ma'am, the way I've always seen it women are good for three things. Cooking, complaining and sex. I can cook well enough to get by, my brother complains enough every time I get a letter from him to keep me good on that account and as far as sex goes that's what the whorehouse is for. I've got no need for a wife."

Elizabeth was suddenly angry and she remembered then why Brody irritated her so much, "Is that so?" she demanded.

Brody nodded, "Yeah, that's so." he replied. He had to get this woman back to the bristling, irritated woman she had been before because this other side of her was one he could see himself falling for. Tough, outspoken, rough around the edges, beautiful, and hardworking as any man he'd ever met... Dangerous.

"I guess I misjudged you then, Brody, maybe you are nothing but a son of a bitch," she said coldly and then she dug her heels into her mare's sides and the horse took off like a bullet across the prairie with Elizabeth holding her hat on her head and looking every bit the tough cowgirl that she was. Brody was left behind feeling like a horses ass and full of regrets that he didn't care to explore.