Wild Cowboy Country

by Erin Marsh

  Sorcha snuffled the air and then snorted. Lying with her head on a rock, Frida, the zoo’s elderly grizzly, shifted in her sleep. Sorcha observed Lacey and Clay for a moment, her eyes shining with curiosity. When they did nothing but stand and watch her, the bear quickly grew bored. She turned her attention back to her big rubber ball. She batted it with her paw, tracking it with her eyes as it bounced on the fake rock facade, her snout bobbing in rhythm. She lumbered after it, giving it another whack. This time, it landed in the bears’ pool with a huge splat. The spray of water caused Sorcha to crouch low, anticipation shining in her eyes. Lacey wondered if the splash had triggered the polar bear’s seal-hunting instincts.

  Sorcha plunged into the water, straight toward her toy. Grabbing it with her front claws, she turned onto her back. As she floated, she tussled with the ball. The black pads on her feet flashed in the air as even her back legs got in on the action.

  “Shit, they are powerful animals.” Clay’s voice was tinged with awe as he lifted his camera to take a shot.

  Lacey nodded. “Sorcha isn’t even full grown. She still has a few more inches to grow, and she’ll pack on a lot of muscle.”

  “I’ve never seen a polar bear in person before.”

  That surprised Lacey. “Really? You grew up near New York City. There are so many excellent zoos there.”

  “My dad was always working, and zoos weren’t my mom’s thing. Too many smells and not enough of the kind of people she wanted to impress.”

  Sorcha chose that moment to flip over. Standing in the pool now, she had more leverage over the ball. Seizing it, she gave it a ferocious toss. It flew through the air and landed with a plop, right on top of the sleeping Frida. Clay’s camera clicked as the elderly bear roared, her massive jaws gaping open as she leaped to her feet. Lacey didn’t think she’d seen the old gal move that fast in years. The startled bruin swiveled her head. Her rheumy gaze focused on the offending toy. With one giant sweep of her paw, she swatted it away. Then, with a satisfied rumble, Frida lay back down. She wiggled her massive rear as she tried to get comfortable on her rock. When she did, she exhaled, her fur rippling from the effort.

  Oblivious to the irritation she’d caused Frida, Sorcha emerged from the water. She paused only long enough to shake off. She did it so vigorously that droplets even landed on Lacey and Clay despite the large moat and concrete barrier separating zoo visitors from the enclosure. Sorcha gave one last good shimmy before she pounced on her ball.

  “I didn’t know bears were so playful,” Clay said quietly as he took more shots. “Sorcha almost reminds me of a river otter.”

  “Play is important for mammals,” Lacey said. “In the wild, Sorcha would still be with her mother, learning how to hunt and survive on the ice floes.”

  The polar bear pushed the ball back into the water. As Sorcha jumped in after it, Lacey wished she could feel the animal’s happiness. Normally, nothing elevated Lacey’s spirits like watching a critter enjoy itself, but she felt an unexpected hollowness. Now that she and Clay had returned to Sagebrush Flats, all the things between them had begun to weigh down their connection, threatening to sever it. But Lacey didn’t want to lose it…even if keeping it meant accepting a risk to her heart.

  Taking a deep breath, her gaze still focused on Sorcha, she asked, “What now?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Clay start and then slowly put down his camera. He clearly hadn’t anticipated the question, but he still knew what she meant. When he spoke, his voice sounded heavy, dragged down by the same weariness she felt. “I don’t know.”

  “Everyone in town would tell us to walk away from each other.”

  Clay snorted, the sound bitter. “They’d tell you to run. Me, they’d chase off with a shotgun.”

  “I don’t want to listen to them anymore.”

  Clay stiffened. “What are you saying, Lace?”

  She smiled softly at the nickname and turned in his direction. “Lace. I like it.”

  Clay’s face remained stoic as his eyes searched hers. The green had faded again, making them a clearer blue. He wanted an answer. Needed it. She didn’t blame him. She wanted one too. Only there wasn’t an easy one. She took a steadying breath. “I’m willing to take a chance, Clay. On us. I think there’s something here. Something that could be good if we don’t let the weeds of the past choke it out.”

  The emerald flecks in his eyes returned, giving them a warmer glow. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’d like that. A lot. But are you ready for what happens when everyone finds out you’re with the town’s Big Bad Wolf?”

  Lacey felt her lips twist, both at the nickname and at the reminder of how her family would react. “I’m sorry I used to call you that.”

  He shrugged. “It fits how everyone sees me. And they are going to find out. Even if we try to keep this a secret, if it goes on long enough, people will know. And they’re not going to like it.”

  Lacey straightened her shoulders with more confidence than she felt. Reaching up, she laid her fingers over his. “Well, I’ve always had a talent at convincing the town to accept the presence of wolves.”

  A real smile stretched over Clay’s face. “You may have a more difficult time selling Sagebrush Flats on this particular subspecies.”

  For the first time, a sense of hope curled through Lacey along with a bubble of excitement. “It’ll be good for me to have a challenge. We’ll see how sharp my skills at persuasion really are.”

  His lips dropped back into a serious expression. “Are you sure you’re up to this, Lace?”

  She nodded.

  “What’s the plan then? How are we going to do this? Do you want to keep our relationship under wraps as long as we can?”

  Part of her wanted to nod. It would be easier, so much easier to hide. But she couldn’t do that to Clay. He didn’t deserve to be treated like a dirty little secret any more than he deserved the town’s wrath for a crime his father had orchestrated.

  “What do you want, Clay? If you say the word, I’ll walk hand in hand with you down Main Street on a Friday night, as long as I can tell my mother and grandfather first.”

  At her words, Clay visibly swallowed. His hands reached up to frame her face. He looked so earnest that it caused a wonderful ache deep inside Lacey’s heart.

  “You don’t know how much those words mean to me, but I’m not going to ask you to do that. Let’s keep what we have private, at least for now.”

  This time, Lacey reached up to touch his cheek. His skin felt warm, a contrast to the chill in the evening air. “You wouldn’t resent it?”

  “Discretion makes the most sense given our unique situation,” Clay said. “Think of us as a new ecosystem that needs protecting before we let onlookers stomp all over us.”

  A spurt of surprised laughter burst from her. If she’d had any doubts about embarking on a relationship with this man, those words washed any misgivings away.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased.

  He leaned closer and whispered, “Only the ones with ecology degrees. I know how to play to my audience.”

  She arched a teasing brow. “Well, you were an ecology major too. I’m sure you know plenty of us.”

  “But I’ve only kissed one of you,” he said, his voice husky, his eyes a luxurious blue-green that brought to mind warm tropic waters.

  “Hmm.” Lacey pulled him close. “Is that so?”

  Their lips met, gently, tenderly, slowly. Joy, bright and frothy, bubbled inside Lacey. She’d never savored a kiss like this, letting it seep into her. Bliss saturated every nerve ending. She had no idea the last time she’d felt so marvelous, so alive. It was like being part of a brilliant sunrise over the desert wilderness. All warm hues and glorious light.

  When they broke apart, they just stared at each other for a moment with s
illy, giddy smiles on their faces. They heard a grunt, and they turned to find the polar bear watching them curiously. The elderly grizzly gave a large snore, and her back paw twitched.

  “Do you think Sorcha will tell?” Clay whispered near Lacey’s ear.

  She laughed. “Only Frida would, and she’s asleep.”

  Clay reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “I’m racking my brain trying to figure out when I can see you again with no one noticing.”

  Lacey leaned her head against his shoulder as she watched Sorcha return to playing with her ball. “I wish we could spend the night together.”

  He squeezed her fingers. When he spoke, his voice sounded as rich as one of the banana cream pies the Prairie Dog sold. “So do I, but I can’t dump Zach on Bowie for a second night in a row, and something tells me my nephew might notice if I didn’t drop you off at your house.”

  “My bungalow isn’t too far from your place,” Lacey pointed out. “I could drive that far and meet you on your lunch hour.”

  Clay shook his head. “Someone would recognize your Jeep and wonder what you were doing at Valhalla in the middle of the day.”

  Lacey sighed. “Nobody ever mentions how logistically difficult secret relationships are. They should come with warning labels.”

  Clay barked out a chuckle. He turned and pressed a kiss against her temple. “We’ll figure something out, Lace.”

  * * *

  “Zach?” Clay said just as his nephew was about to head up the old wooden staircase to his room in the finished attic. Clay had lived there when he’d stayed with his grandfather, and he thought the boy might enjoy the relative independence of having a floor to himself.

  The teenager reluctantly paused, his hand on the knob at the bottom of the banister. “Yeah? What?”

  “Here.” Clay felt awkward as he thrust out a plastic bag containing the book on Greek mythology and another on Western wildlife that Lacey had helped him pick out.

  Zach didn’t move. He just eyed the parcel suspiciously. “What is it?”

  “A gift.”

  “It’s not my birthday.”

  “I know. That isn’t for a few months yet.”

  Surprise flared in Zach’s blue eyes before he expertly masked the emotion. And damn if the boy’s shock that his uncle had remembered his birthday didn’t cause a twinge inside Clay. Clay’s own parents had forgotten his birthday, but Greg never had…at least not until the drugs.

  “Are you trying to buy my silence ’cause I caught you making out with Ms. Montgomery?”

  Clay tamped down on the flare of anger. Zach wanted to push him away. He needed to stop letting him succeed. Keeping his voice casual, he said, “What you saw was us standing on the path staring at the honey badger. And no. This gift was purchased with you in mind when I was in the city. Lacey helped me pick it out.”

  The mention of Lacey piqued Zach’s interest enough that he lifted his foot from the first step and pivoted in Clay’s direction. “If she helped, then it might not be totally lame.”

  “You know you probably shouldn’t insult the person trying to give you a present.”

  Zach nonchalantly shrugged, but he did reach for the bag. When he pulled out the book on Greek mythology, he froze. His sullen expression dropped, and he looked young and vulnerable…and even more like his father.

  “She told you,” Zach said quietly, and Clay wondered if he’d made a mistake in getting him something similar to what Greg had.

  “I’m not trying to replace him,” Clay said quickly. “I know I’m not your father.”

  Zach snorted then—the sound should’ve been too harsh and too jaded to come from a teenager. “I never really had a dad to replace.” Zach lifted the book. “Thanks though. For this. Ms. Montgomery wasn’t wrong. I do like this shit.”

  Clay almost let him turn around. Almost let him walk away. That would be the easy thing to do. But evidently tonight, Clay had decided to stop taking the simple path. Perhaps he was still riding on the high from the kiss he’d shared with Lacey. She made him believe in possibilities again. Maybe even for the first time.

  “I lost him too.”

  That brought up Zach short. He turned. “Greg?”

  Clay nodded. “Even though he’s only six years older, he was more of a parent to me than my own.”

  Zach’s face screwed up in confusion. “We are talking about the same guy here. The one who can’t stay out of prison or rehab for more than a couple months.”

  “He wasn’t like that before he became addicted to painkillers,” Clay said. He should’ve told Zach this earlier, but talking about his brother hurt too much. Speaking about Greg with Lacey had paved the way for this conversation. This time, though, Clay wasn’t sitting in the dark. He was standing right under the entryway light, all his pain on glaring display.

  “What was he like?” Zach asked and then shook his head harshly. “Maybe I shouldn’t know.”

  “He was the kind of person who walked into a room and people immediately liked him. Whatever he tried, he excelled at. He got solid grades and led his high school soccer team to the state championship three years in a row.”

  Zach snorted. “I’m nothing like him then. At least, the non-messed-up version of him.”

  “No,” Clay said, “you’re like me.”

  “You?” Zach asked in disbelief. “The guy who has his shit together? The cowboy who runs a ranch?”

  His nephew thought he had his shit together? Then again, in comparison to the other adults in Zach’s life, he probably did. “I came as an unexpected and unpleasant surprise to my parents. They did their best to ignore my existence, so I acted out. I skateboarded in the house, hit my dad’s monogrammed golf balls into the lake, and cut up my mom’s silk dresses to ‘make’ a hot-air balloon. They sent me to boarding school after boarding school. I was the class clown, so I ended up in a military academy. I just increased the level of my pranks from cracking jokes during class to helping the rival team steal our own mascot. After the second cadet school kicked me out, I came here, and my grandfather—your great-grandfather—was the first person who didn’t toss my ass out when I tried to pull shit on his ranch. And I changed. I became who I am now.”

  For the first time since their conversation had started, Zach looked away. He scuffed his shoe against the terra-cotta tile floor before rubbing his upper arms. Clay’s words had unsettled his nephew, but for the first time, Clay realized that might not be all bad. The teenager wasn’t used to adults standing by him and paying attention. Unlike most people, Zach needed to be pushed into a comfort zone, not out of one.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Zach. And for as long as you want, my door—my home—is open to you.”

  Zach lifted his chin. “Why? Because of Greg?”

  “No,” Clay shook his head. “Because of you.”

  “I’ve been a jackass.”

  “So was I, once.”

  Zach considered this for a moment. “What’s the other book you got me?”

  “It’s on local wildlife. I’ve been impressed by the work you’re doing at the zoo, and I thought you might like it.”

  Zach shifted again, but at least he didn’t start kicking aimlessly at the floor. When he spoke, he sounded half-defiant. “Once my community service ends, I was thinking about volunteering at the animal park or getting a job if Mr. Wilson will hire me.”

  “Okay.”

  Surprise flared again in the teen’s eyes. “You’re okay with me working more there and not at the ranch?”

  “I wouldn’t mind if you started helping out around here, especially in the summer, but I didn’t invite you to live here because I wanted a hired hand. You’re family, and if you have an interest in zoology, you should explore it.”

  “Oh,” Zach said. The kid had clearly been spoiling for a fight.

&nb
sp; “If you want, on a Sunday, we can ride out to the river. I can show you where I’ve spotted otters before.”

  “Maybe,” Zach said.

  Considering the responses he’d received in the past from his nephew, Clay took the equivocation as progress. Zach turned to leave. He’d only reached the second step, though, when he turned back in Clay’s direction.

  “I won’t tell anyone, by the way.”

  It took Clay a moment to realize Zach was talking about his kiss with Lacey. “Thanks.”

  “I like her,” Zach said simply. “She’s pretty awesome for an adult.”

  “She’d appreciate that.”

  Zach paused. “You’re less grumpy with her around. You should have her over.”

  “Things are complicated with our family histories.”

  The teenager gave him a meaningful look, indicating that once again, he questioned Clay’s intelligence. “Like I said, I’m not talking.”

  * * *

  Clay headed through the zoo’s main gate, his camera in hand. He was here to pick up his nephew and Lacey, and he hoped he’d find her alone in the nursery. After his conversation with Zach last night, he’d made up his mind to ask her to join the two of them for dinner. It would be dark by the time they arrived at the ranch. Luckily, Clay’s grandfather had added a connecting garage to the old mansion. Evidently, his grandmother hadn’t liked the cold or scraping snow off her car. Although she’d died long before Clay was born, the old rancher must have loved her to build something that he would’ve considered an unnecessary extravagance. But whatever the reason, it was handy for Clay now.

  He’d debated about calling Lacey, but he’d hoped to invite her in person. He certainly hadn’t wanted to spring it on her when he’d driven her to the zoo. Zach had been in the cab, so he’d figured he’d wait until later. If Lacey wasn’t alone with the wolf cubs, then he’d just ask her to show him more of the animal park. He’d even brought along his camera as cover.

  Opening the door to the maintenance building, Clay immediately heard Lacey’s voice. It was higher pitched and sweeter than normal, and excited yips followed. Walking down the corridor, he felt a smile playing at the corners of his lips. From the sounds of it, Lacey was playing with the wolf pups. No one could miss the affection in her tone as she asked, “Who’s a mighty hunter? Are you practicing your pouncing? Did you get it? Is it dead now?”