Katherine woke up and stretched out her legs, groaning, as it felt like her muscles may literally snap in half.
She sat up and tried to lift her hands above her head, with little success. Her back and shoulder muscles screamed in protest. Grimacing, she wondered how she would make it through the day.
The palms of her hands were so sore, it hurt to flatten them against the bed. Turning them over, she saw blisters and raw, red skin. She’d done the best she could trimming up her nails last night, but they were still a mess, and her nail beds ached.
Standing, she limped into the bathroom and found her pain reliever. Taking three, she closed her eyes and leaned against the sink, the cool marble providing a little relief from the hot pain radiating in her hands.
She’d slept soundly through the night as exhaustion had completely taken over her body after dinner. Relief swept through her when Ruben had announced he would be turning into bed, and she’d quickly followed.
Bending over with a grunt and a curse, she drew a hot bath. Usually, she liked to indulge in a soak at night as it relaxed her, but this morning, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it through the day without the warm water calming her angry muscles.
She lay in the tub for twenty minutes, then got out and did some light stretching. By the time she pulled on her jeans, she actually felt halfway human, except for her tender hands.
Pulling out her laptop, she opened her bedroom door and surprise washed through her at the smell of coffee. Glancing at her clock again, it read just after six in the morning. Apparently, Ruben also rose early.
An empty kitchen greeted her, and she poured a cup of coffee. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she opened her laptop, hoping to catch some news on how the trial had gone yesterday.
She found a couple of articles in the Washington D.C. paper, and as she read an opinion piece by a reporter she respected, she didn’t know whether to cry or scream.
Prosecuting Attorney, James Rains, seemed confused in his opening statements, and didn’t represent the level of ability that we are used to seeing from the office.
However, the attorney for Sergio Bogrov delivered his opening remarks with the flair of a well-seasoned trial lawyer.
The reporter had put together a brief synopsis of the opening statements.
Nothing she and Jim had discussed had been mentioned.
She strode back to her room, fury fueling her. She’d put too much work into that trial to watch it be pissed away by the office playboy.
With shaking hands, she dialed Jim’s number as she marched back into the kitchen.
It went to voicemail.
“Jim, this is Katherine. I just read a brief description of what you said yesterday during your opening statement. What the hell is going on? Unless this reporter was smoking crack and decided to publish a bunch of lies, none of what you said is what we discussed. You need to get this back on track, or you’ll lose, and I’ve put in too much time and energy into this to watch you throw it away!”
She took a deep breath and tried to cover the venom in her voice.
“Please call me when you get this, and we can go over things for today.”
Looking around the kitchen, she realized she needed to soften her message even further. “I want to help, Jim, not run the show. So, please, call me.”
She hit the off button, the urge to throw the phone across the kitchen so strong that she trembled.
“You stupid asshole,” she muttered.
“That’s not a nice way to greet someone first thing in the morning.”
She spun around to see Ruben standing a few feet behind her, a lazy grin on his face.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t directed at you.”
He strode in and gave her a wink as he laid some eggs on the counter. “I hope not.”
She sat back down and gently placed her head in her hands, her heart beating fast. If Jim continued down this path, they’d lose the case, for sure. Staring at her phone, she willed it to ring.
“So, what happened?” he asked. “Who’s the stupid asshole that’s got your panties in a knot?”
Sighing, she looked up at him as he leaned against the counter, his long legs crossed at the ankle. Despite her ire, she couldn’t help but notice the way his tousled black hair shined under the kitchen lights, or the way his black t-shirt strained against his chest. At that second in time, the guy oozed sex.
She turned her thoughts back to his original question and decided to ignore his comment about her underwear.
“I was just reading the news on the trial, and Jim, my colleague, was described as ‘confused’ and didn’t offer up the ‘level of ability’ that the reporter was used to seeing from our office.”
Ruben grimaced. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not. I’m hoping Jim will call me and ask for some help.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
She sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do. He can’t lose this trial.”
Ruben turned to the refrigerator. “Well, I guess you just wait and see what will happen.”
“I’m not good at waiting.”
He turned back to her, a carton of milk in one hand, and some vegetables in another. “‘He that can have patience can have what he will.’”
She rolled her eyes. “Who said that? Because I know you certainly didn’t just pull that one out of thin air.”
“Now, why would you say that? Are you implying I’m not smart enough to come up with such beautiful words of wisdom?”
Biting her bottom lip, she wished her mouth had more of a filter. It had been a rude thing to say, but he was some hick on a ranch, not a college professor with a bunch of degrees behind his name.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that. It just doesn’t sound like something anyone from this time period would say in the midst of a normal conversation.”
He chuckled. “My boy, Benjamin Franklin, said it, and it’s true. You need to calm down and find some patience. Things happen for a reason.”
He busied himself at the counter as she stared at the muscles in his back rolling beneath his shirt. The man seemed solid all over, not soft like the city boys she knew. Yes, most exercised, but Ruben’s physique seemed a bit larger, a lot sturdier, and she knew it all came from working the farm. He also quoted Benjamin Franklin, something she couldn’t do. Perhaps he was smarter than she gave him credit for.
Patience had never been a strong suit for her as she tended to be a bit demanding. People didn’t make demanding people wait, so therefore, patience hadn’t been required.
She rolled her shoulders, feeling her own tightened muscles that she thought had been so strong.
“Well, I’m not sure what to do with myself now,” she muttered as she sipped her coffee, then grimacing. The coffee could peel paint; it tasted so strong.
“The first thing you’re going to do is have some eggs, vegetables, and bacon. Then, you’re going to come with me and help me repair a fence the cows have almost knocked down. After that, we’ll see where we’re at on the day, then figure it out from there.”
She sighed. Being in the same area as cows without a fence didn’t sit well with her. They were huge animals and she imagined they could hurt humans with little effort. She’d seen video of rodeos and those cows that tried to spear everyone with their horns.
“Unless, of course, you’re too sore from yesterday.”
Glaring at his back, she could only imagine the smirk on his face. Cow or no cow, she’d get through the day. Besides, all she had to do was keep Ruben in between her and them. If they charged, he’d get it first and it would give her a chance to run. That seemed selfish, but she happened to be big on self-preservation.
“No, I’m fine,” she lied, hiding her hands under the table.
He gazed over his shoulder at her, his eyes glittering. “Good. Breakfast will be ready in fifteen, and then we’ll head out.”
“I usually skip breakfast.”
He shook his head. “Not here, you don’t. You’ll need the fuel, Kate.”
As she pursed her lips together, her irritation grew. What didn’t this guy understand about her name? “I prefer to be called Katherine. I think I told you that already.”
He nodded. “You did.”
“So why do you keep calling me Kate?”
He turned and strode over to her as he wiped his hands on a towel. He stood just a little too close as he invaded her personal space, and she was forced to look up at him.
“Because, to me, you aren’t a Katherine. You’re Kate. Katherine sounds uptight, cold, and snooty. You don’t seem that way to me, so I’ll continue to call you Kate.”
He stared at her a moment, that lazy grin on his face that made him seem so innocent, but something else radiated from his chocolate gaze, something that made her cheeks warm and sent a shiver down her spine, but she couldn’t put a name on it.
“Besides, I don’t think I could stop calling you Kate even if I tried.”