Cowboy Come Home

by Carly Bloom

  She’d rather fake unconsciousness than lose.

  He’d covered her with a blanket, and she’d spent the entire night right there on his couch, fully clothed. And surprisingly, he’d slept like a baby in his own bed before fixing her breakfast the next morning.

  Maybe they were moving past this insane sexual attraction. But these other feelings, the ones that he had when they were working and laughing and keeping their pants on, felt even more dangerous.

  Claire yanked his rearview mirror around to examine her face.

  He hated it when people fucked with his rearview mirror almost as much as he hated bare feet on his dashboard. So why was he grinning like a doofus?

  He sighed, crossed his arms, and watched as she applied some kind of lip gloss that probably tasted like bubblegum. Then she puckered up her lips. He laughed, but the sight of that shiny mouth made his dick hard.

  Not past the insane sexual attraction, then.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You made a duck face.”

  “I absolutely did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “I made a sexy face.”

  “To a duck, maybe.”

  Or to an exhausted cowboy fighting a raging boner in his Wranglers.

  Claire huffed and brushed an imaginary strand of hair out of her face before turning his mirror back to the wrong position. He reached up and adjusted it.

  “What’s Alice going to do without her library?” he asked.

  “We’re not giving up on the library!” Claire said. “Insurance is going to cover at least some of the construction, and we’re going to raise enough money for the rest. We’re going to do a huge fund-raiser.”

  The woman didn’t give up on anything. She was fighting tooth and nail to hold on to Rancho Cañada Verde, helping Maggie get the store ready to close even though it was breaking her heart, and now she was talking about a fundraiser for the library.

  Family. Friends. Community.

  That’s what Claire was all about.

  “You’ve worked really hard,” Ford said. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Surprised?”

  “Not even a little. And I heard you were schmoozing it up with bull buyers at the cattle auction on Monday. Travis Blake was impressed.”

  Claire was a natural. She might have thought she didn’t know how to run the ranch, but she really did. It was instinctive for her. Like she was born to do it.

  “If by schmoozing with bull buyers he means I was having coffee with a bunch of old ranchers while they talked about their aching knees and hemorrhoids, then yes, I was really schmoozing it up.”

  “You sold that bull, though. And Travis said it was for more than he expected.”

  Claire smiled and did a cute little shrug with her shoulders. She damn well knew she’d sold that bull for above market value.

  It was just one more thing Ford was proud of her for. “Don’t forget we’re meeting with your dad tomorrow morning at nine. Why don’t you sleep in a little?”

  “I can’t. I’ve got a ton of emails to send out.” She gave him a secretive smile. “I’ve been working on a little something.”

  Ford leaned in. “Are you going to tell me what? Or do I have to guess?”

  Claire bit her lip and looked at him as if she was trying to decide if she should share her secret. Then she nodded, as if she’d made up her mind, and took a bunch of brochures and letters out of her bag.

  “If what you and Dad say is true, and beef prices aren’t going to come back up, then we’ve got to think outside the box.”

  “And that’s what you’ve been doing? Thinking outside the box?”

  “Yes. I got an idea from some junk mail.”

  “Junk mail?”

  “From Bosco Leather.”

  Ford had no idea where this was going.

  “Product diversification,” Claire said. “That’s the key.”

  “Theoretically, I know what that means,” Ford said. “But I’m still not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “The non-beef items have been doing pretty well. I haven’t seen the figures for the last quarter, but I do see the order reports. And that’s with a single retail chain. They don’t have exclusivity, so our products could be everywhere. And I don’t want to be limited to food.”

  Ford raised an eyebrow. How could ranch products not be associated with food? Animals and crops. That’s what ranches produced.

  Claire popped open a catalog from an upscale department store. “Look at this.”

  Ford looked at a picture of leather travel bags and totes. He shrugged. They were nice, but what did they have to do with Rancho Cañada Verde?

  “Look at the label.”

  He squinted and then saw what she meant. The bags were all stamped with the name of the legendary King Ranch.

  “Our new product—in light of falling beef prices—is our brand,” Claire said.

  “You’re going to sell luggage?”

  “And boots. And cookware. And even personal care products. Online and in stores.”

  Ford removed his hat and scratched his head. She sounded crazy, but crazy like a fox.

  “That’s got to be a full-time job, darlin’.”

  Claire sighed. “It is. But it’s one I’ve got to do. And I’ve also got to keep up with the ranch, because there’s no point in having a Rancho Cañada Verde brand if there’s no Rancho Cañada Verde.”

  Ford had some crazy words gathering in his throat. They were clawing and scratching their way to his mouth, and if they managed to make their way to his tongue, it was all over…

  When I come back after the roundup, it can be for good. Back to Big Verde. Back to the ranch. Back to you.

  He bit his bottom lip to keep his mouth shut as Claire stuffed all of her papers and booklets back into her bag.

  When she was done, Ford tweaked the mirror again, turning it so he could see his own reflection. Then he made a duck face and winked.

  Claire busted out laughing. “See? I told you it was sexy.”

  And then she gave him a kiss on the cheek before opening the truck door and hopping out as if kissing his duck face were the most natural thing in the world.

  It rocked Ford to his core.

  * * *

  Oh, dear God. She’d kissed that cowboy on the cheek without even thinking about it. It was disappointing after successfully not making out for two weeks.

  She headed for Petal Pushers’ front door, bringing her fingers to her lips, where she could still feel the stubble from Ford’s cheek and taste the salty, woodsy flavor of his skin.

  She hadn’t kissed him when he’d patiently bottle-fed a newborn calf that was too weak to suckle. She hadn’t done it when his eyes had lit up and a little dimple of satisfaction had appeared in his left cheek over his stupid Scrabble victory. And she even hadn’t kissed him when she’d felt his warm breath on her cheek as he’d covered her with a blanket.

  She had to wait until he’d caught her off-guard by winking at himself in the mirror.

  It probably had something to do with how excited she’d been to talk to him about her plans for providing a safety net for the ranch through diversification. Because just thinking about that gave her almost as big of a thrill as thinking about the way Ford’s bristly cheek had felt against her lips.

  Ford made her feel like she could accomplish anything. He believed in her. And that made her believe in herself.

  What had he thought of the kiss? She hadn’t waited around to find out. As soon as she realized her lips had connected with his cheek, she’d reached for the door handle like it was an eject lever and the plane was going down.

  A car horn honked and dang near gave her a heart attack.

  “Hey!” Maggie shouted from the window of Alice’s Prius. “Didn’t you hear us calling for you?”

  No, she hadn’t. What were they doing in Alice’s car? Why weren’t they in the shop? Claire shifted her bag to her other shoulder and
headed over.

  “You’re too late,” Maggie said. “We’re quitting early today. We got almost everything in the stock room inventoried and marked down.”

  “Oh, dang. Sorry.” Claire looked down the road. Ford was long gone.

  “We’re heading over to the library site,” Alice said. “Want to come?”

  “Sure,” Claire said, opening the back door. “Seeing as how I’m completely without a vehicle.”

  A short while later they were standing on a concrete slab, which was pretty much all that was left of the library after Bubba and JD had torn it down.

  “Were you not able to save any of the books?” Maggie asked.

  “What the water didn’t reach, the humidity ruined.”

  “I’m so sorry, Alice,” Claire said. “We really need to get on that fund-raiser. And I think you should ask Anna to chair it.”

  Loud beeps indicated Bubba was backing up his front-end loader. He was getting all of the lumber and soggy, moldy sheetrock gathered up to be dropped into one of the big dumpsters that lined Main Street.

  Alice held her hand up. “I think that might be a hard no from me, Claire. I mean, nobody cares about the library more than I do. And nobody cares about it less than Anna.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Claire said. “She doesn’t care about the library. But she does love to feel important, and she knows how to throw a party.”

  Alice bit her bottom lip. Wrung her hands. “She did host that killer Halloween gala a couple of years ago. People are still talking about it.”

  “It was super killer,” Maggie said. “That’s where I met the Big Bad Wolf, remember?”

  Maggie had gone to the party as Little Red Riding Hood and Travis had shown up as the wolf. What started off as a very sexy once-upon-a-time had turned into a delightful happily-ever-after.

  Claire twisted her hair around a finger and fantasized about a gala where she showed up in the world’s most gorgeous gown and met her own Prince Charming…

  He’d be in a cowboy hat, of course.

  “What are you thinking about, Claire?” Maggie asked. “Your face is going through all the emotions.”

  “It is?” How embarrassing. “I was just thinking that we should bring up the fund-raiser at our book club. If we act like we want Anna to do it, it’ll take the fun out of it for her and she’ll say no.”

  “I’m not really good at being coy,” Alice said.

  Claire winked at her. “I am.”

  A cowboy hat caught Claire’s attention, and her heart automatically began hammering. But it wasn’t Ford. It was just JD, standing at the edge of the slab, talking on his phone. Although he’d obviously seen them, he made no effort to even wave at them, much less talk.

  That was unusual. JD was usually friendly and chatty.

  He stuck his phone in his pocket and then stood there, shoulders slumped, cowboy hat pulled way down low.

  Bubba walked up and slapped a meaty hand on Alice’s shoulder, nearly knocking her over. “I know this looks bad, but Big Verde is going to get its library back. I promise.”

  “Bubba,” Claire said. “What’s the matter with JD?”

  “I don’t know. I told you he’s been a sourpuss. And it’s not because of the flood. It started way before that.”

  JD spun around and headed their way, looking at the ground and walking quickly. Claire smiled and prepared to make small talk, maybe find out what was going on but…

  He walked right past them. He didn’t even say hello. And then he got in his pickup truck and peeled out.

  “Yikes,” Maggie said.

  “See?” Bubba said. “I told you. Trouble in paradise.”

  “You don’t know that. It could be anything.”

  Whatever it was, Claire hoped it wasn’t serious.

  “Goodness,” Alice said, looking even gloomier than before. “It seems like there’s a storm cloud over Big Verde. And it just won’t go away.”

  Claire had a great idea. “Do you know what we need, ladies?”

  “Books?” Alice asked.

  “Well, besides that.”

  “What?”

  “A night on the town. And it’s ladies’ night at Tony’s.”

  Maggie patted her tummy. “I have a date with Travis’s nasty recliner,” she said. “That’s how we do Pregnant Ladies’ Night at the Blake house.”

  “Aw, really?” Claire said. “You don’t want to get out and party while you still can?”

  “I never thought I’d say this, but no. Y’all should definitely go and have fun, though. You both deserve it.”

  Alice furrowed her brow. “Tony’s? I don’t know, Claire. It’s not really my kind of—”

  “Too good for a honky-tonk?” Claire teased.

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Prove it.”

  Alice crossed her arms and jutted out her chin. “Fine. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A gray Chevy Silverado pickup truck was parked in front of the bunkhouse. It had a faded bumper sticker that said BUCK OFF! and a silhouette of a curvy woman in a cowboy hat leaning against a fence post. There was also a HOMEGROWN IN TEXAS sticker, and one from the PRCA—Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association.

  Worth “Baby” Jarvis had arrived at Rancho Cañada Verde.

  He was known as Baby in the rodeo world on account of having gone pro at the ripe old age of seventeen. He was twenty-one now, but folks would no doubt call him Baby until the day he died. Once you’d been christened with a rodeo nickname, it would follow you all the way to your tombstone, where it would end up in quotation marks.

  Kit’s truck was also there. Ford looked at his watch and raised an eyebrow. Kit should be out working on fences. It was possible he’d ridden with someone else, but Ford had a sneaking suspicion that the kid was slacking off. Ranch hands came in two varieties: extremely hardworking and lazy as sin.

  From what he’d seen, Kit was the latter.

  The door to the bunkhouse opened as Ford got out of his truck, and Worth came bounding down the stairs with a huge shit-eating grin on his face. Unlike Ford, who liked his hair neat and trim, Worth wore his sandy blond hair long. The ladies said he looked like he’d just stepped off the set of Legends of the Fall.

  The buckle bunnies of the rodeo circuit were nuts over him.

  Ford braced for what he knew was coming, which was a jumping leap.

  Oof! Worth damn near knocked the air out of him. Ford pounded him on the back a couple of times. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Get off.”

  Ford tried to wipe the grin off his face before his little brother caught it.

  “You settled in yet?” he asked, nodding at the bunkhouse.

  “Yeah. They put me in with Kit Black. He’s not feeling well today.”

  Ford crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, really?”

  “I can’t believe this place,” Worth continued. “I mean, holy shit! Who has actual bunkhouses anymore?”

  Worth’s face looked like it might hurt from smiling so hard. “Have you seen the horses? Hell, sure you have. Bet they’re all beauties. This ranch is a dream come true.”

  Ford was overtaken by a misplaced surge of pride. This ranch wasn’t his, but he sure loved it. No doubt about it.

  “I met Miss Lilly already. But she said Gerome wasn’t feeling well.”

  Ford leaned against Worth’s truck. When Gerome wasn’t at a doctor’s appointment, he was sticking around his study. The hands were used to seeing him out and about with his hand in everything. Big change. “He’s having surgery in a few weeks,” he said.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Worth said. “Anything serious?”

  “Yes, but a good outcome is expected. Everyone has their fingers crossed.”

  “He’s legendary,” Worth said. “I hope I get to meet him soon. Miss Lilly said maybe tomorrow.”

  “Miss Lilly is a lovely lady.”

  “Speaking of lovely ladies…”

 
; Shit. Here it came. Worth was going to bring up—

  “How’s Claire?”

  Worth, like the rest of the family, had fallen in love with Claire when Ford had stupidly brought her home for Thanksgiving. And he’d been the one to yank Ford out of his delusion and bring him to his senses.

  What the fuck are you doing, Ford? This woman is the marrying type. And you’re a Jarvis. Get your shit together before you do something crazy.

  Ford had looked around the room at his brothers, most of them with ex-wives and girlfriends or current wives and girlfriends…Living out of their long-haul cabs or motel rooms or man-camps in the oil fields and on ranches. Going from town to town, woman to woman, and juggling child support payments. Just like their father and grandfather and great-grandfather before them.

  It would be one thing if Jarvis men kept their misery to themselves, but they almost never did. They shared it with women and children.

  “Claire’s fine,” Ford said, staring his little brother directly in the eye. He was going to stick to simple answers until Worth petered out.

  “Are you seeing her?”

  “She lives here.”

  “But are you seeing her?”

  “I just answered that.”

  “I don’t think you did, though.”

  “You asked a question. I answered it twice. And now I’m going to check on Kit. You say he’s not feeling well?”

  He headed for the steps and Worth followed.

  “I’d like to talk to you about Claire,” Worth said. “I have some things to say.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m headed to West Texas in a few short weeks. There’s not a thing to be concerned about.”

  You don’t need to know that I’m having crazy thoughts again, or that I can’t fucking wait for the next game of Scrabble, or that I can’t stop touching my cheek where she kissed me like I’m a love-struck teenager. You don’t need to know a goddam thing.

  That meant the less conversation and eye contact, the better. His little brother had shit for brains, but he was still fairly perceptive.