A Cowboy State of Mind

by Jennie Marts

  Her lips finally moved as the corners tugged up in the slightest grin. “I think I’m still in shock. You might have to do it again.”

  His lips curved into a smile, and he leaned in again just as his phone buzzed in his front shirt pocket. His grin turned into a scowl.

  Only a few people had his number. It didn’t matter. It could have been the pope and he still would have scowled at the interruption. He checked the caller ID, and his scowl deepened. “Hold on, I’ve got to take this.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He tapped the screen, then pressed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Dad.”

  “We’re out of milk.” Birch Taylor’s voice was gruff and succinct.

  “Is that your way of asking me to pick up another gallon, or are you just making a statement of fact?”

  “Both. And we also need a loaf of bread. I tried to make a sandwich, but you must have left the bread out because it was all moldy.”

  Like I caused the mold spores to form. I’m pretty powerful like that. “Fine. I’ll pick them up on my way home. If you think of anything else, just text me.” He wouldn’t. Birch hated technology and seemed to only use the new iPhone Zane had bought him for games of solitaire. “Did you take your medication?”

  “Yeah. I took it,” Birch grumbled.

  “All right then. Get some rest. I’ll see ya when I get home tonight.”

  “Yeah, see ya. Don’t forget the milk. Or the bread.”

  “I won’t forget, Dad.”

  “See that you don’t.”

  Zane ended the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket.

  “How’s he doing?” Bryn asked, her eyes crinkled in concern, the kiss apparently already forgotten.

  Thanks, Dad. Zane shrugged. “Good days and bad. The doctor said because he was a mechanic, his body was in pretty good shape, so that helps with the recovery.” His dad had always been strong physically, just weak in spirit and when it came to booze. “It’s a good thing he didn’t have a liver attack. I don’t think he would have come back so well from that.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “I take him for his monthly checkups. Doc seems to think he’s doing okay.”

  She studied his face. “How about you? Are you doing okay?”

  “Me? I’m fine. I’m not the one who had a heart attack.” Nope. His heart had been attacked a long time ago. Attacked and broken, and he’d since kept it locked up tight. Nothing could attack an organ he never used.

  Not even an impulsive kiss with a beautiful girl, who had apparently already put the bold move behind them as she patted her backpack and changed the subject.

  “I grabbed us a couple bottles of water,” she told him, as if the kiss and her panic attack had never happened. “There’s a hose around the side of the diner if we want to give the animals some too. And I brought more apple slices.”

  “Good thinking. She seemed to like the first ones.” If that’s how she wanted to play it, Zane could go along. He turned to the horse and carefully removed and discarded the rotted rope from her neck and replaced it with the soft blue one. Then they led the horse around the diner and cracked the water bottles while they waited for all the animals to get a drink.

  * * *

  Their motley crew now assembled and hydrated, Bryn shoved the water bottles back into her pack and raised it to lace her arm through the strap. Zane held out his hand to take it from her.

  “You sure?” she asked, glancing down at the bright floral print.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You think I’m not secure enough in my manhood to carry a pink flowered backpack?” He slung it over his shoulder and lifted one side of his mouth in a grin. “Besides, I think the glitter on the purple pansies really brings out the blue in my eyes.”

  She laughed, appreciating, not for the first time, the gorgeous ice blue of his eyes. “It does indeed.”

  No amount of purple glitter could call into question Zane Taylor’s manhood. He exuded strength and masculinity, even with a flowery backpack riding on his shoulder. He seemed tough as hell, but she’d never seen him raise his fists or remember him ever getting in a fight at school. He didn’t have to—one look at him told any adversary he was a man not to be messed with. His glare alone had just cut short the conversation of those two grimy men.

  The size of his pecs and the straightness to his posture conveyed his strength, but he never came off as arrogant or cocky. He was dressed simply in jeans, square-toed boots, a faded blue T-shirt, and a straw cowboy hat, yet the fit of his clothes and the way the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his pecs showed off his muscled physique.

  She liked that he was tall and strong, but she knew Zane was smart too. And funny. Plenty of guys she knew could joke around and tease, but she loved the way Zane could slay her with one of his well-timed wry jokes.

  She hadn’t been prepared for the way he’d slayed her with that kiss though. It was quick, over in a second, but for that one glorious second, it had heat coiling in her belly and robbed her of any coherent thought. And if the kiss hadn’t stolen her senses, his impish grin after the fact surely had.

  But why had he kissed her? When she’d told him to do something to shock her, she’d thought he would try to startle her, like one would do to someone with the hiccups. Most people don’t try to kiss the hiccups away.

  What would have happened if his phone hadn’t rung? Would he have kissed her again? Did she want him too? Did he want to? After the call from his dad, his charming manner had disappeared and his expression turned dark. She didn’t know how to get back to that moment, so she’d changed the subject, figuring she’d think about it later. And Zane had certainly seemed okay with dropping the matter, so maybe the kiss hadn’t meant anything to him. It was just a lark, a bit of fun.

  Although Zane Taylor didn’t seem the type to do spontaneous fun. But he had left her an impulsive hundred-dollar tip and helped her save this horse. Best to concentrate on that for now. She fell in step next to him as they set off down the road. The weather was gorgeous. A warm spring day in Colorado with lots of sunshine yet still cool enough.

  Zane held the rope loosely in his hand, letting the horse set the pace as they walked next to her. They only spent a little time on the highway before they turned onto the quieter road that led to Bryn’s farm. The dogs occasionally veered off into the grass or the ditch to explore a scent, but always kept them in sight.

  Zane pushed his hat back and peered down at her. “So, now that you bought a horse, what are your plans for keeping it?”

  “Don’t you mean, now that we bought a horse?”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “Hey, I’m just the investor. Think of me as more of a silent partner.”

  She liked thinking of him as a partner—and in more ways than just as co-horse-owners. She let out a breath. “I don’t know what my plans are. Honestly, I still can’t quite believe I just bought a horse. And for only a hundred dollars. Which I never thanked you for. So thank you. And I do plan to pay you back, you know. At least for my half.”

  “Don’t worry about it. And that hundred bucks may have bought you more of a deal than you bargained for.”

  “More than a traumatized horse that I have no money to pay for the care and upkeep of?”

  He nodded. “You might say you got yourself a two-for-the-price-of-one deal. This horse is pregnant.”

  Chapter 3

  Bryn stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. She was stunned. “Pregnant? Are you sure?”

  “Pretty dang sure.” He ran a hand over the horse’s rounded side. “She looks fairly malnourished, but there’s no mistaking the movement of a foal inside her belly.”

  Bryn clapped a hand to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick. I already thought her previous owner was a monster, but this… Who sends a pregnant horse to slaughter?”

  “Probably somebody w
ho couldn’t afford to keep even one horse, let alone two.”

  “Well, I can’t afford to keep even one horse either, but I’ll find a way.”

  His expression softened. “I believe you will. And I can help.”

  “You’ve already done so much.”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t done that much. And I’m glad to help. I can pick up some grain and see to setting you up with some hay to get you by for a little bit. And I don’t want you thinking you have to pay me back for the horse. That was your tip.”

  She laughed. “Neither Gil’s biscuits and gravy nor my talent for pouring coffee would ever garner that kind of tip.”

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Your coffee-pouring skills might be better than you think.”

  She tilted her head and eyed him as they walked. “Your fibbing skills might not be as good as you think.”

  They laughed together as they approached the spot where Bryn’s car sat on the shoulder of the road. Zane pulled the horse to a stop. “You want to give it a go? See if it starts up?”

  “Sure. Good idea. It’s been pretty temperamental lately, so it just might start.” Bryn slid into the passenger seat, leaving the door open to let out the heat. As much as she wanted the car to start, she was enjoying this time spent walking with Zane. And the horse. And the dogs. She wasn’t sure if she was more relieved or disappointed when she turned the key and nothing happened.

  “Still dead,” she told Zane as she got out and shut the door. “Stupid car.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll come back and look at it later. It might just be a dead battery.”

  “Nothing is ever that easy.”

  * * *

  Zane snuck a glance at Bryn as she walked beside him. A breeze picked up a loose strand of her hair and blew it across her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear as she raised her face to the sun. “What a perfect day.”

  He thought so too. But his thoughts had more to do with the company he was currently keeping than the temperature. Bryn was so easy to be around, whether they were talking or not. He wasn’t used to being so comfortable in the presence of a woman, but Bryn had a way of making him feel at ease. Well, mostly at ease, if he didn’t count the nerves that occasionally erupted in his gut when she touched his arm or her hand brushed against his.

  It was just the backs of their hands, but a spark of energy shot through his body every time their knuckles bumped. What would she do if he casually took her hand? He reached out, ready to slide her palm into his, but the horse nudged his arm away with her head.

  He frowned at the mare. Thanks a lot. Jealous much? He’d made a move and been cock-blocked by an envious equine. Sounded about right for his luck.

  And Bryn hadn’t even noticed. They were still close to a mile from her farm, but she seemed totally relaxed walking beside him, like it was an everyday occurrence for her to be taking her horse for a walk.

  “You’re being a pretty good sport about walking the horse home,” he told her.

  “It was the right call. There was no way we could subject this poor horse to the trauma of getting back in a trailer,” she said. “Besides, I like walking.”

  “Me too. It’s relaxing. Gives me time to think.” He knew plenty of women who would balk at walking anywhere. Although Bryn wasn’t like any other woman he knew. And he had picked her up this morning as she’d been walking to work. But that had been out of necessity.

  “Yeah? What kind of deep things does a man like Zane Taylor think about?” she asked, offering him a playful smile.

  “Oh gosh, such deep stuff. Just this morning I was walking across a pasture thinking about how much snow we might still get in this last week of spring, then I pondered some pretty philosophical ideas about what I was going to have for lunch today.”

  “Wow, that is deep,” she said, teasing him as she put a finger to her chin. “I’ve pondered that lunch idea before as well. It can really be enlightening.”

  “You bet it can. The choices between a grilled cheese and a turkey sandwich can have all sorts of far-reaching implications. And when you throw in the options of available chips, it gets pretty mind-boggling.”

  She nodded sagely. “I can imagine. I’ve often thought Cheetos were pretty inspired.”

  “Mmmhmm. I’d have to agree. I do love Cheetos.”

  She chuckled. “Good to know. Especially since I’m planning to make you lunch for helping me out this morning.”

  Lunch? With Bryn? He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, but he also didn’t want to pass up the chance to spend more time with her. “You don’t have to feed me.”

  “Yes, I do.” She said the words with such finality he didn’t bother arguing. “Besides, I owe you one, not just for helping me rescue this horse, but also for saving me from those guys.”

  “Seemed the least I could do, since, you know, it appears I am your boyfriend.” His steps gained the slightest swagger.

  It had surprised him how easily the words “my girlfriend” had slipped from his lips. He hadn’t said them in years—had planned to scrub them from his vocabulary after Sarah—yet the words had tumbled from his mouth as easily as leaves fell from a tree in autumn. And even more surprising, the words hadn’t made his chest hurt, hadn’t made his stomach pitch.

  But if she knew the truth about him, she’d run away as far and fast as she could. Although he should be the one to run. He knew the truth—he wasn’t good for her, wasn’t good for anyone. He should call his old boss tonight and tell her he was coming back. Walk away now. Before someone got hurt.

  “Oh yeah. Sorry about that.” Bryn offered him a sheepish grin. “That Gator guy kept making revolting passes at me, and he was giving me the creeps, so I just picked out the toughest guy in the diner and said you were my boyfriend. You’d already left, but he’d seen you before and seemed to lay off a bit. It was either you or old Doc Hunter, and I thought you were just slightly more intimidating than the eighty-year-old guy with two bad hips.”

  “Just slightly, huh?”

  She held up her thumb and forefinger to suggest an inch. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t mind. You can use me as your badass fake boyfriend anytime.” He offered her a grin. But the swagger disappeared from his steps. What had he been thinking? Of course she wasn’t insinuating he was her actual boyfriend. Why would she? Who would want the son of the town drunk, and a scarred up ugly bastard to boot, as her boyfriend?

  The horse nudged his shoulder, almost as if she’d read his mind. He ran his hand over her dusty, velvety neck. At least the horse digs me.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Bryn said, teasing again.

  Time to push away the bad memories and change the subject. “You know, those guys were more than just creeps. They were shady as the day is long and most likely con men.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been taken in by one of those,” she muttered, then shook her head as if to clear the thought and looked back to Zane. “What makes you think they’re con men? For swindling me, and you, out of a hundred dollars? That doesn’t seem to make them very good at their trade.”

  “It’s not you they swindled.” He patted the horse’s neck. “You got the better end of that deal. But I’m sure they took whoever paid them to dispose of this horse, because they dang sure weren’t taking it to a slaughterhouse.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because they outlawed slaughterhouses a decade ago. The last ones in Texas and Illinois closed down around 2007, when they banned the slaughter of horses.”

  “Then what were they going to do with her?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? My best guess would be that they took the money and were planning to take her out to the desert and put a bullet in her head.”

  Bryn gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh. That’s terrible. W
hy would someone pay them to do that?”

  “They might not have known. Or they might not have cared. Keeping a horse is expensive, but so is disposing of one. Cremation can run seven or eight hundred dollars and trying to bury a thousand pound animal on your property has its own set of problems as well. It’s tough all around to lose a horse. Maybe these people thought they were getting a deal or maybe they didn’t care. Who knows?”

  She shivered. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I care about right now is this beautiful girl and her new baby. And I’m thankful we were in the right place at the right time to be able to rescue them because this was not their day to die. Nope. Heaven can wait for these two.”

  He smiled down at Bryn, her expression so sincere, so full of love for a horse that she’d only just met. He understood it, had felt the immediate connection with an animal. “You’ve got a good heart, Bryn. And you’re generous to a fault.”

  “Thank you. But I can tell you I don’t feel very generous toward those two asshats who had this horse. There should be a special place in hell for people who would swindle folks out of their money for putting an animal down. And it’s got to make it that much tougher for good people who are really trying to help in that tough situation.”

  “It does.”

  The sound of an engine had them turning to see a familiar silver truck heading up the road. It slowed when it drew even with them, and Zane’s boss, Logan Rivers, leaned his head out the window. “Everything all right?”

  Zane shrugged. “Yep. We’re just out taking our horse for a walk.”

  Logan chuckled. “Seems like a reasonable way to spend the morning.” His gaze traveled over the motley crew, then back to Zane. “I didn’t realize the two of you had a horse.”

  “It’s a recent acquisition.”

  “We just bought her off these two slimeballs at the diner who were taking her to be slaughtered,” Bryn told him.

  Logan’s brow furrowed. “Why? She looks in pretty good shape to me.”

  “She is,” Zane said. “A little malnourished, and needs some maintenance and a round of antibiotics, but otherwise she seems all right. We’ll know more when we get her checked out. But I’m probably going to need to take the rest of the afternoon off. I can come back tonight to help with evening chores if you need me.”