Summertime on the Ranch

by Carolyn Brown

  * * *

  A big, old sexy cowboy holding a kitten that wasn’t as big as one of his rough hands melted Becca’s heart. She kept stealing glances over at him. Could it be that beneath bad boy exterior there was a man who wanted to settle down someday? Grammy had said that when she met her Seamus, as she always referred to him, he’d been a player too. The only time Becca had gotten to spend a month with them in Ireland, he’d been such a loving husband to her grammie that Becca couldn’t imagine him ever even looking sideways at another woman.

  “I wonder how they got so tame.” Becca was talking about the cats, but her mind was still on her grandfather and Dalton and the business of taming them.

  “Frankie and his wife have a bunch of grandkids that are always popping in and out of their house. I imagine they played with them and got them ready to give away to good homes.” Dalton leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

  He and the kitten both were sleeping soundly within a few seconds. Dolly curled up in Becca’s lap and put a paw over her little nose. For several minutes Becca looked her fill of Dalton. Women were already falling at his feet so rapidly that it was a wonder he didn’t have one of those take-a-number-and-wait machines attached to his porch post. If those ladies could see him now with a kitten on his shoulder, the poor old Terral police would be having to break up catfights.

  She only meant to rest her eyes for a second, but in minutes she was sound asleep. She didn’t even hear the front door open or Greta fussing about having to haul in supplies. She did wake up when Tuff licked her, starting at her chin, going up across her cheek, and not stopping until he reached her hairline. Becca came up off the sofa wiping at her mouth, then stopped dead in her tracks and looked around to see if she’d thrown the new baby kitten off on the floor.

  Tuff made a hasty retreat to hide behind Grammie’s recliner when he got a taste of hair spray. Dalton opened his eyes slowly to find that both cats were now on his shoulder and tangled up together.

  “Awww, look at the wee babies asleep with Dalton. It’s a good man, yes, it is, that animals love,” Greta said in a high baby-talking voice. “I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ us some kittens for a while now.” She reached out and picked up the gray one. “Come with Grammie, darlin’ kit-tee, and I’ll show you the new litter box and fix you a bowl of kit-tee food.” Her accent got thicker with every word. “It’s been a while since I’ve had babies in the house. We’re all going to have a good time, aren’t we?” She kissed the little gray kitten right on the nose. “Not to worry, Dolly, I’ll be right back to get you, darlin’ baby.”

  “Well, that worked out well. Do I dare put my boots on, or have you played some kind of practical joke on me?” Dalton asked.

  “I slept as long as you did, and we never did get back to the movie,” she said. “We could finish it now since Grammie is taking care of the babies.”

  “Yes, I am, and what’s this about not watching the movie?” Greta plucked the yellow kitten from Dalton’s shoulder.

  “We got so involved with the kittens that we forgot to watch the rest of it,” Becca admitted.

  “Well, that’s for another day,” Greta told her. “The girls are coming over to play cards this evening, so you can’t watch it now. We set up our table in here.”

  “I should be getting home.” Dalton pulled on his boots again. “Rye and I just keep a skeleton crew on weekends, so I should help with the evening chores. If you’re not playing cards, you could come drive the truck for me.”

  Listening to four old women drink wine and argue over gin rummy or go with Dalton? She chose the lesser of the two evils and smiled at him. “If you’ll give me five minutes to change into jeans, I’ll go drive for you.”

  He nodded. “Take ten, and after we get the chores done, we’ll drive down to Bowie for some ice cream.”

  Was ice cream a date? Becca wondered as she hurried to her bedroom and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Would he expect more than a friendly handshake or a kiss on the cheek when he brought her home? Or worse yet, would she be disappointed if he didn’t kiss her good night? She ran a brush through her long hair and reapplied a little lipstick.

  “It’s not a date,” she muttered as she headed down the hall.

  Grammie was sitting in her recliner when she reached the living room. Both kittens were in her lap, and she was singing to them. She stopped when Becca entered the room and winked. “They’re good kit-tees. They both used the litter box and ate some of their special food, and now they’re sleeping. The girls are going to love them, but Dolly and George are going to love me more than anyone.”

  “Why haven’t you gotten a pet before?” Dalton stood up and rolled the kinks out of his neck.

  “I don’t know,” Greta answered. “I guess it’s because I had to leave my old mama cat behind with my best friend in Ireland when I moved to the States. I missed her real bad, but I felt like I would be dishonoring all the years she caught mice for me if I brought in another cat. But Tuff brought these to me, so in a way, it makes it all right.”

  “I’m glad,” Dalton said. “I’ll tell him you said thank you.”

  “And the next time I make a ham, I’ll save him the bone,” Greta said. “Now, you kids get on out of here. You’ve got chores to do and ice cream to buy. I won’t wait up for you, Becca.” She threw a sly wink her way.

  “We won’t be that late,” Becca said. “I’ve got to be up early in the morning to get some more watermelons squeezed and ready to start into wine.”

  “You could bring home a bottle of that so we can celebrate our new babies,” Greta suggested with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Becca smiled.

  “We could bring a bottle by on our way to Bowie for the ladies who are playing cards with you,” Dalton offered.

  “You are such a sweetheart.” Greta flashed her brightest smile at him.

  “You are spoiling her,” Becca whispered as they left the house.

  “She spoiled me with a good dinner and a great nap. Do you realize that I haven’t even kissed you, and we already slept together?” he teased.

  “We slept, as in close our eyes and snore. We did not have sex,” she told him.

  “Don’t know about you, but we did in my dreams.” He chuckled as she opened the truck door for her.

  She’d heard of hot flashes in older women, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, they couldn’t be as hot as the heat filling her body as she watched him strut around the front end of the truck. She might need enough ice cream to fill a bathtub just to cool down after the pictures his comment painted in her mind.

  Chapter 4

  To get to know someone really well, spend some time working beside them.

  That’s what Grammie had told Becca more times than she could remember. Seeing Dalton’s gentle nature with the cattle as he fed them that evening just added to the feeling that she’d had when she watched him sleep with a kitten on his shoulder. He had a soft heart, and for crying out loud, he’d even named some of the bulls.

  “Hey, that does it for this job.” He crawled into the passenger seat of the ranch work truck. “You about ready for ice cream?”

  “What I’d rather have is a big, juicy bacon cheeseburger,” she answered.

  “A woman after my own heart,” he grinned. “Got a particular place in mind?”

  “Dairy Queen in Nocona,” she answered.

  “Then drive us back to my truck, and we can be there in twenty minutes,” he told her.

  “Fifteen if I drive.” She smiled.

  “A cowboy always drives his lady wherever she wants to go,” he said.

  “Oh, so I’m your lady?” She shifted the truck into reverse and turned it around in the pasture.

  “You could be,” he answered.

  “Why not your woman? Or your one-night stand? Or the redhead that you g
ot lucky with?” she asked.

  “A cowboy’s lady is so much more than any of those things you just said,” he answered.

  “How so?” she asked.

  “I respect all women. That’s the way I was raised, and it’s the cowboy code. But a cowboy’s lady goes way beyond plain old respect. She’s put on a pedestal,” he answered.

  Put that in your corncob pipe and smoke it, Grammie’s voice popped into her head.

  Becca ignored the comment and asked, “And how does a lady feel about her cowboy.”

  “One hundred percent the same as he feels about her,” Dalton answered. “Just park right beside my truck, and we’ll make the switch and go to Nocona.”

  Becca didn’t have a corncob pipe and she didn’t smoke, but she sure thought a lot about what he’d said. That was exactly the example she had seen in her grandparents, both maternal and paternal, and in her own parents.

  She put the truck in park, turned off the engine, and was about to open the door when it swung open. Dalton held out his hand to help her out of the truck, and she slipped her hand into his outstretched one. Men had opened vehicle doors for her since her first date when she was sixteen, but in that moment, even though she was wearing jeans, she felt as if she had a crown on her head and was truly royalty. Not a single man she’d ever known had made her feel so special.

  “Aren’t you the perfect gentleman?” she said.

  “Honey, I’m thirty years old, but my mama and my grandmother both would take a switch to me if I didn’t treat a woman right.” He kept her hand in his all the way to his truck where he helped get her settled into the passenger seat.

  Her phone rang as she was buckling her seat belt and trying to watch him walk around the front of the truck to get behind the wheel. “Hello, Grammie,” she answered.

  “Are y’all done with chores?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Do you need me to come on home?” Becca crossed her fingers like a little child, hoping that the answer would be no. She really was looking forward to that cheeseburger.

  “Lands, no, child,” Greta said. “If y’all are still going to Bowie for ice cream, I want you to go to Walmart and get me a couple of baby blankets and some cat toys.”

  “We’re going to Nocona for cheeseburgers,” Becca said.

  “Then go to the Dollar General there. I’m sure they’ll have what I want. Go on and get half a dozen blankets so we can keep the babies with a fresh one every day. One more thing, I checked these babies. George is a girl so her new name is Loretta, so buy pink blankets,” Greta said. “Is this a date?”

  “I have no idea, but probably not.” Becca smiled at Dalton as he started the engine.

  “If he kisses you good night, it’s a date. See you later, and I will wait up for you,” Greta said.

  “Greta need something?” he asked.

  “George is a girl and has been renamed Loretta. She wants us to bring pink baby blankets and some cat toys,” Becca answered.

  “Didn’t even think to see if we had boys or girls.” He chuckled. “If we can’t find what she wants in Nocona, we’ll drive down to Walmart in Bowie. Who would have thought she’d fall in love with those kittens? Tuff did a good thing when he pilfered them from Frankie.”

  “Looks like he did,” Becca agreed. “I thought one of them might belong to me, but I’m beginning to doubt it.”

  “When and if you ever get a place of your own, I’ll have a visit with Tuff and tell him to bring you a kitten of your very own,” Dalton said as he backed the truck out of the drive and headed west toward town. “Got a particular color in mind?”

  “I don’t think Tuff is that good.” Becca laughed.

  “Never underestimate the powers of a dog trying to please a lady.”

  There was that word again—lady. For some crazy reason, the old animated movie Lady and the Tramp came to Becca’s mind. She stole a glance over at Dalton and decided in a split second that he definitely didn’t look like the dog in the movie, but Tuff dang sure did. A picture of her and Dalton sharing a plate of spaghetti like on the movie poster flashed in her head. Thank goodness they were having cheeseburgers, or she’d never get the blush off her cheeks. No amount of blinking seemed to make it disappear.

  “I’m not sure I want a kitten when I get my own place. I might want a puppy,” she said.

  “What kind? A Pomeranian that you can carry in your purse?” he teased.

  “Nope, I was thinking about a cocker spaniel,” she said.

  “Good dogs.” He nodded. “They make excellent pets and they’re easy to train.”

  Maybe Tuff will fall in love with Lady, which is what I’ll name my dog, and then we’ll have our own real-life movie right here in Terral, Becca thought with a big smile.

  Don’t you ever accuse me of matchmaking when you’re thinking like that, Grammie’s voice was back in her head.

  “You were smiling one minute and then frowning the next,” Dalton said. “Who are you fighting with?”

  “Grammie,” she answered honestly.

  “About what?”

  “My dog that I haven’t even gotten,” she said. “When I get one, I want a female.”

  * * *

  Dalton was already trying to figure out where he might buy her a cocker spaniel for Christmas if things worked out between them. Suddenly, that old movie he had seen as a kid popped into his mind. “Lady and the Tramp.” He said aloud and snapped his fingers.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about the old movie Lady and the Tramp. Did you see it when you were a kid?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she smiled. “Mama has every Disney movie ever made. She bought them when I was a little girl and says she’s saving them for her grandkids.”

  “Did you know they made a new one of those a couple of years ago? We should rent it or buy it and watch it some evening.”

  “I didn’t know, but I’d love to see the new one. Do you realize how much that Tuff looks like the Tramp?” she asked.

  “Not until you mentioned a cocker spaniel, and that movie popped into my mind because that’s what breed Lady was. Don’t go tellin’ Tuff that he looks like a movie star or he’ll want to go to Hollywood, and he’s a damn good cow dog,” Dalton told her.

  “You should never stand in the way of his dream,” Becca scolded, but couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

  “He told me he knew he wanted to work on a ranch when he was just a puppy,” Dalton protested.

  She shook her finger at him. “I’m living proof that a person, or a dog in this case, can change their dreams.”

  Dalton loved bantering with Becca. Women who he picked up at the Broken Bit on the nights he was lucky didn’t want to do much talking. They were more interested in shedding clothing, starting at the front door and leaving a trail all the way to the bedroom or the living room sofa, or once even on the credenza right there in the foyer. Not that he didn’t have a good time with each of them… Hell, it was more than just good; it was almost always a great night.

  This thing with Becca went way beyond that, though. Who would ever have thought that Dalton Wilson would be having a wonderful time flirting with no thought of getting lucky that night? Maybe his nana was right about him settling down. He glanced over at Becca, and yep, whether he believed it or not, he’d fallen in love with her at first sight. With his past and with her dream of a recording career just shattered, though, he would have to take things slow. Dalton was a patient man. He could take his time and follow the rainbow to its end when he knew there was a pot of gold waiting on him.

  Only a few vehicles were parked in the Dairy Queen lot when they arrived, so he snagged a spot close to the front door. The stars had begun to pop out in the sky by the time they were inside and had ordered. Since there were few other customers, the waitress brought their order pretty quickly,
and Becca dived right into the double-meat-and-cheese bacon burger.

  “This is one thing I missed in Nashville,” she said between bites.

  “They don’t have Dairy Queen in Tennessee?” Dalton asked.

  “Yes, they do, and their burgers are good, but not as good as these. Maybe it’s because I’m home when I have one here,” she answered.

  “You weren’t home out there?”

  “Home isn’t a place. It’s a feeling,” she told him. “I was always scrambling out there. Here I’m just Becca McKay, someone who sings sometimes at church and entertains sometimes at a Watermelon Festival, but I’m not doing it to follow a dream of being a famous singer. I’m singing for fun.”

  “Well, I for one am glad that you feel at home in this part of the world. Austin says that you’re the best help she’s ever had in the wine shed, and she hopes you don’t get the itch to go back to Nashville.” Dalton ate slowly so that they could spend more time together.

  “I love working there. One of my part-time jobs in Nashville was working in a winery,” she told him. “Like I told you before, I wouldn’t mind having a vineyard of my own and trying my hand at creating my own label someday.”

  “What would it be named?” he asked.

  “I haven’t gotten that far,” she answered.

  “I’ve got a name for you.” He grinned.

  “Spit it out,” she told him.

  “Southern Lady. That sounds classy like you.” His grin got bigger.

  “Thank you, and I do like that for a label,” she said and then pointed at the huge Coca-Cola clock hanging on the wall of the burger joint. “The Dollar General closes at eight. That means we’ve only got thirty minutes to round up the stuff for the kittens.”

  “Then we’d better get going.” He slid out of the booth and waited for her, then ushered her to the door with his hand on her back. Walking beside a woman like that wasn’t anything new to him, but the heat radiating through his hand damn sure was. This must be an extension of that love-at-first-sight thing Rye kept telling him about.