A Cowboy State of Mind

by Jennie Marts

  The collie jumped from the truck and trotted toward the porch, already comfortable enough with Bryn’s place to race up the front porch steps. Although that dog seemed to make herself comfortable wherever she went. Including his bed. After he’d let her up that one time, she’d now taken to jumping up on it every night and curling against his leg. He’d allowed it, just because he was too lazy to make her move. Yeah, sure.

  His dad had said she’d slept by the front door the night before, like she was waiting for him to come home. And then he’d bitched and moaned about having to let her out and toss her some kibble. Zane had brought the dog tonight. Not that he was planning to spend the night with Bryn again, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  Zane grabbed the project he’d been working on the past few days and pulled it from the truck. He’d wrapped it in burlap, and the fabric was rough on his hands. Not that he’d needed to wrap it. He’d sanded the wood so many times it was smooth as glass.

  A platoon of butterflies took off in his gut as he approached Bryn’s front door. He’d made her a sign to proclaim her farm was now an official horse rescue ranch. But had he overstepped his bounds? Would she think the sign was stupid? Would she think he was stupid? Would things feel different tonight? Would she act different? He’d left her this morning with a goodbye kiss that had curled his toes and had him seriously contemplating calling in sick to work, an action he’d never done. Not that he hadn’t ever had a cold or been sick, he just hadn’t let it interfere with his job. Although the idea of spending all day with Bryn had enough appeal to consider it—and it wouldn’t exactly be lying if he called in claiming he needed to spend the day in bed.

  The sign was awkward in his arms as he shifted it to knock. But the door was flung open before he had a chance to raise a hand.

  Bryn stood in the doorway, a grin bursting across her face. “Hi, Zane.”

  His lips curved into a smile. “Hey, Bryn.” That was it—all he could think to say. The sight of her in a light blue tank top and cut-off jean shorts took his breath away. Her tanned legs looked a mile long and her feet were bare, her toes shiny with some kind of glittery pink polish that reminded him of cotton candy. Her hair was loose and curled softly around her shoulders, and the woman looked good enough to eat.

  “You gonna come in, or are you just gonna stand on the porch and stare at me all night?” she said, teasing.

  His smile curved wider. “From where I’m standing, the view is just about perfect.”

  Her grin turned shy, and she ducked her head. “You do surprise me, Zane Taylor.”

  He surprised himself. Where had that flirty comment come from? He was usually terrible with any kind of sappy lines. He’d never had to use them before. The kind of women he’d been with—when the need had arisen—hadn’t needed to be wooed or pursued. They’d usually come to him—probably after all their other options had run dry—and all it usually took was purchasing a round of shots and a grunt of agreement to end up in someone’s dark bedroom. There was no conversation, no expectation of a relationship, just a need to be filled.

  His throat tightened, and his heart raced with panic in his chest. He took a step back, suddenly as skittish and spooked as a wild stallion penned in a corral for the first time. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be smiling at Bryn and saying flowery words, shouldn’t be setting up the expectation that he was worth getting involved with.

  Bryn reached out a hand and took his, twining her fingers with his and holding him still. “Whoa there, cowboy. Don’t go backing out on me now.” She smiled again, but this smile was different—it wasn’t flirty or excited; it was calm and full of steady reassurance. It was like she knew what he was thinking and she was telling him with her eyes and the firm pressure of her fingers interlaced with his that it was okay, that he was worth something.

  Instead of pulling away, instead of backing off the porch and driving off in his truck, he let her lead him inside and push the door closed behind him.

  “So, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” she asked.

  Aw hell. Was she really going to make him talk about his feelings of inadequacy? Make him admit that he knew he wasn’t worthy of a girl like her? Well, he might have dropped a few sentimental lines, but he wasn’t about to go pouring out his heart. Better to act dumb than to start rambling more gibberish about how darn pretty she was. “What do you mean?”

  She chuckled and pointed to the package in his arms. “I mean this big ol’ wrapped-up thing you’re holding. What is this thing?”

  He let out a breath. Whew. She meant the sign. Of course she meant the sign. Why would she want to talk about their feelings? They’d only been together for one night. Damn, Zane, this girl is making you soft. He set the sign on the kitchen counter. “I made you something. It was just an idea that came to me, and I thought you might like it.”

  “You made me something?” Her eyes were wide. “Wow. That’s so cool.”

  “Don’t go getting too excited. You don’t even know what it is yet. And if you don’t like it, it’s totally fine. Don’t feel pressured, like you have to use it or anything. It was probably a stupid idea.”

  “Oh my gosh, would you just shut up and show it to me?”

  “Okay. Okay.” He watched her face as he pulled back the burlap.

  She clapped a hand over her heart as her eyes went wide and welled with tears. Reaching out her fingers, she traced the letters of the sign: HEAVEN CAN WAIT HORSE RESCUE RANCH, CREEDENCE, COLORADO. Her face beamed with joy as she looked up at him. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

  He swallowed, surprised at the burn in the back of his throat. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he’d wanted her to love it. “Yeah?”

  She nodded and stepped toward him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it. It’s absolutely a thousand times exactly perfect.”

  He held her close, burying his head in her neck. “You’re a thousand times exactly perfect.” He’d thought the words in his head and hadn’t meant to say them out loud, but they hung in the air, a whisper of promise waiting to be taken.

  Bryn pulled back and looked into his eyes, that same reassurance she’d shown him a few minutes before still shining there. She reached up and traced her finger lightly down the scar marring his cheek. “So are you, Zane. So are you.”

  His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise and the burn deepened in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, how to put into words what her words meant to him. All he could do was show her. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with everything in him.

  She met his passion and pressed herself into him as she kissed him back. She felt so damn good, fitting perfectly into the circle of his arms. He could stand here and kiss her all night. Except now she was pulling him back and down onto the sofa. Writhing under him, she wiggled her body, pressing against all the good spots—the spots that hummed and sizzled and sent heat surging through his veins. He actually felt a vibration between them. Wait. That was an actual vibration. It was the cell phone he’d jammed into his front pocket.

  Bryn pulled back and grinned at him. “Is that your phone vibrating, or are you just happy to see me?”

  He grinned back. “Oh darlin’, I’m very happy to see you.” The phone ceased its buzzing. Zane leaned down to kiss her again, but the pulsations started again.

  “I think you either need to answer it, or shift your hips about three inches lower, and we’ll hope they keep calling.”

  He chuckled, considering the idea, as he sat back and dug the phone from his pocket. It was Logan. He didn’t call often. If he had something on the ranch that needed his attention, he usually texted. He tapped the phone and held it to his ear. “This is Zane. And this better be important.”

  “It is,” Logan said, unfazed by his gruff greeting. The two men were used
to each other after spending the last several months working together. “I just got a call from a buddy of mine who rides bulls, and he found your guy. He’s in Fort Collins.”

  “You sure it’s him?”

  “I’m sure,” Logan confirmed. “Besides the description and the stupid spiderweb tattoo on his hand, the guy introduced himself to my friend. And he confirmed he’s driving the truck. He said it’s parked at the fairgrounds right now. If you’ve got time, I’ll pick you up, and we can head down there and initiate Operation Dick Parker.”

  Zane looked down at Bryn. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was mussed from his fingers splaying in it. She looked good enough to eat. As much as he wanted to get back to sampling her, he knew she’d rather take the opportunity to get her stolen things back. At least he hoped she would. There was a strong possibility she’d be pissed and tell him to mind his own damn business. “You want to go for a ride?”

  Her eyebrows raised, but she nodded, as if she could tell he wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important. “Sure.”

  “I’m at Bryn’s. She’s coming with,” he told Logan. He didn’t have a problem confronting the guy on his own—he had a few choice words and actions for the guy—but it wouldn’t hurt to have Logan along as backup.

  “Good. Be there in fifteen,” he said, then disconnected the call.

  Zane pushed off the sofa, already missing the feel of Bryn next to him. “Logan is picking us up. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To take back what’s yours.”

  “You found Pete?”

  He nodded. “And the truck. You wanna go get it?”

  She scrambled from the sofa and pushed her shoulders back. “Hell yes I do.”

  Zane narrowed his eyes. “You mad?”

  “At him? Or you?”

  “Yeah.”

  She shrugged. “Course I’m mad at him. I’m still pissed as hell that he took my money and my stuff and stole my grandpa’s truck. As for you, and Logan apparently, I’m going to assume your hearts are in the right place.”

  He nodded again. “Yeah, and my foot’s gonna be in the right place when I kick this guy’s ass for stealing from you.”

  “Get in line.”

  Fourteen minutes later, Logan’s truck pulled into the driveway. Zane and Bryn had each scarfed down a couple of the tacos she had made them for supper. Then Zane had fed the dogs while Bryn packed a small cooler with drinks and snacks for the road, and they’d grabbed jackets and were waiting on the porch for Logan. Zane had considered bringing the baseball bat Bryn had wielded a few days earlier, but he figured between him and Logan, they had enough muscle power to take on one slimy bull rider. And the assault charge would probably be less if he only used his fists.

  They’d decided to leave all the dogs at home, and Bryn and Zane climbed into the pickup with Logan.

  “Hey, Lo,” Bryn said, scooting onto the bench seat next to him and digging for the seatbelt.

  “Hey, Bryn.” He took the buckle she handed him and clicked it into the clasp. “You mad?”

  “She hasn’t decided yet,” Zane said by way of greeting. He pulled his door shut and clicked his belt into place. “She packed us drinks and snacks though, so she can’t be too angry.”

  “Snacks are always a good sign.” Logan laughed as he pulled the truck out onto the highway. “And we only did it because we love ya and hate that this asswipe took advantage of your kind heart.”

  Zane looked out the window, trying to keep his body from tensing at Logan’s easy use of the words “we love ya.”

  There was only one person he’d ever said “I love you” to. And she had died the same day he’d uttered the words.

  He pushed thoughts of Sarah from his mind. Bryn wasn’t her. And he wasn’t the same guy he’d been back then, he tried to convince himself. He was older, but he wasn’t sure he was any better.

  Zane felt a warm pressure against his palm and looked down to see Bryn twining her fingers with his. It was a small thing, but it meant everything.

  * * *

  Traffic through Denver was a bitch, so the trip to Fort Collins took over two hours, and Bryn’s nerves were frazzled by the time they exited the highway and drove toward the city. It was nerve-rattling enough to imagine facing down Pete, but sitting next to Zane for the last two hours had her nerve endings spinning like a million tiny tops.

  The guy was wound tighter than a drum, and she could tell by the way his shoulders tightened and hunched in that something had been bothering him. She knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t want to talk in front of Logan. Although she wasn’t sure he’d want to talk at all. She’d seen this silent, broody mood of his before, and the best way she’d figured to deal with it was to offer him reassurance that she was there and let him be for a bit.

  She turned to Logan. “I saw Harper in town the other day. She had the goofiest grin on her face as she told me how great you-all were doing. She couldn’t stop talking about how good you are with her boy.”

  Logan shrugged, but the grin spreading across his face displayed his pride. “Floyd’s a great kid. I love hanging out with him.”

  “Me too. He’s adorable. I told Harper she should bring him out to see the horses.”

  “He’d like that. And so would she.”

  “She seems happy. I’m glad. And don’t forget, I’m the one who set this whole happy-couple thing in motion by introducing the two of you.”

  He gave her a sideways grin. “How could I forget when you take every chance to remind me?”

  She chuckled. “Well, remind Harper she owes me a peach cobbler.”

  “I’ll tell her.”

  “She said Floyd did really well on the hockey team this year. Having you as his coach must have really helped.”

  Logan shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I have fun doing it.” He reached over Bryn’s head to nudge Zane on the shoulder. “How about you? You ever miss playing? We could use you on the alumni team.”

  Zane shook his head. “Nah. I wouldn’t be much help. I haven’t been on the ice in years.”

  “You’d be surprised. You used to be really good. I think once you put the skates on, it would all come back to you.”

  “I forgot that you two played hockey together in high school,” Bryn told Zane. “I’m so used to seeing you on the back of a horse with your feet in the stirrups, it’s hard to imagine you on the ice with them in a pair of skates.”

  “He was our best defenseman,” Logan told her. “I never saw him throw a punch, but he just looked mean, and he was big, so kids got out of his way before he even had the chance to check them.”

  Apprehension tensed Bryn’s shoulders. “Well, I hope you’re not planning to throw any punches today. I didn’t bring any money to bail you out if you get arrested.” She nodded at the bag of snacks on the floor of the truck. “Not unless they take beef jerky and Oreos as payment.”

  She was trying to make a joke, but a scowl crossed Zane’s face. His voice took on a hard edge. “I’m not planning to get arrested.”

  Bryn frowned as they turned into the parking lot of the fairgrounds. He hadn’t said he wasn’t planning to throw a punch though. “There’s the truck,” she cried, pointing to the old blue pickup. She’d know it anywhere. Besides the recognizable dent in the front fender she’d put there when she’d been learning to drive and had underestimated the distance she was to the barn, the back bumper still had the American flag sticker that read Support Our Troops affixed to it.

  Logan parked next to it, and they got out and looked through the window. The cab of the truck was strewn with fast food trash and empty beer cans, but a new gear bag, saddle, and helmet sat on the seat. A sleeping bag was balled into one corner of the floor next to an old duffel overflowing with clothes.

  “It lo
oks like he’s living in here,” Zane said.

  “He probably is,” Bryn replied, trying the door handle. “Dang. It’s locked.”

  “Hey, get the hell away from my truck,” a voice yelled.

  They turned to see Pete walking toward them. Bile rose in Bryn’s throat, a combination of nerves and fury. She hadn’t realized how mad she was until this very moment. She stomped forward, curling her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “Actually, it’s my truck.”

  Pete stopped in his tracks and took a few stumbling steps backward. The color drained from his face as he looked from Bryn to the two angry cowboys flanking her sides. His gaze darted from her to Zane to Logan, then behind him as if he was looking for a place to run. Then he took a breath as if composing himself and changed his expression, like a snake shedding its skin. His appearance went from alarmed to friendly, and he held out his arms. “Hey, Bryn. Good to see you, baby. You know I was just borrowing the truck. You know, like we talked about. I told you I was going to bring it back after rodeo season. Remember?”

  Did he really think she was this stupid? She planted her hands on her hips and fixed him with her most steely stare. She’d been worried about what she’d say, but she shouldn’t have. It was easy to know how to respond. “First of all, I’m not your baby. And second of all, we never talked about you borrowing the truck. Or my bank account. Or my grandfather’s belt buckle.”

  “Did she say her bank account?” she heard Logan ask Zane behind her.

  Zane grunted an affirmative response and took a step closer, so he was almost next to her but still letting her take the lead. She chanced a quick look to her right, where he stood like a six-foot-four grizzly bear protecting his mate. He didn’t take his eyes off Pete, and she knew that menacing stare had to have the other man shaking in his boots.

  “Now hold on there. This is all just a misunderstanding,” he countered, moving his arm to cover his waist.

  Bryn’s heart leapt to her throat as she looked down and realized Pete was wearing the buckle. As if he’d won it himself. She pointed to his waist. “Take it off. Now.”