Wish Upon a Cowboy

by Jennie Marts

  Maybe because this time it felt different. She felt different. Like there might actually be a chance for something there.

  Shut it down.

  He knew not to get his hopes up—not to expect too much. Harper was gorgeous and smart and had his blood running hot, but there was no chance of a future with her. She was going to leave. Just as every woman he’d cared about had. Evidently a dumb cowboy who couldn’t figure out the correct order of numbers and had trouble reading wasn’t worth sticking around for.

  And apparently it wasn’t just women. It seemed like everyone in his life had left him lately. Between Quinn and Max moving out, his dad taking off, and him firing his hired hand, he felt pretty alone.

  With Harper there, it was nice to have someone else around to converse with and to have the smell of food baking in the house. But it wasn’t just having a warm body and someone to talk to. It was more than that. It had to be. Otherwise, he should have been happy to have Kimmie there. She’d been offering food and company, in the kitchen and anywhere else he wanted it. But he didn’t want it, not with her.

  And it wasn’t like that anyway. He knew where to find female company if he wanted it. This was different. He just liked being around this woman. She made him feel good about himself, even though he didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t believe the crap about his learning disability had come up that morning. He never talked about that. In fact, he tried to pretend it didn’t exist. But when he’d admitted his struggles with dyslexia, she hadn’t made him feel stupid, even though he knew he was. The mess he’d made of the finances at the farm proved it.

  But Harper didn’t seem fazed. He didn’t think she’d even blinked. Was that what made her different? Made her seem special? No, because his heart had been slamming against his chest from the minute he met her.

  He studied her through the glass. Her hips curved as she leaned against the counter waiting for the cashier to ring her up. She reached up and collected the mass of dark hair cascading down her back, then twisted it into some kind of knot on top of her head. The move seemed natural to her, as though she’d done it a hundred times, but there was something so fluid, so graceful about the way her fingers twisted and shaped her hair.

  Graceful didn’t seem like an adjective normally used to describe her. Tough, snarky, and a little standoffish were better descriptions. So what was it about this guarded woman with her military boots and a shade of suspicion behind her gorgeous green eyes that was making him get all sentimental and causing him to sweat every time she got too close to him? When she’d fallen back against him as they left the diner, his arms had automatically gone around her, and he hadn’t wanted to let go.

  A truck pulled up not far from him, drawing his attention away from the dark-haired woman. His jaw clenched as he recognized the man getting out of the passenger side.

  The convenience store was on the edge of town and shared a parking lot with The Keg, a dive bar where the locals hung out. The truck had parked between the two businesses, and Logan sighed as he watched his former hired hand amble into the bar. It pissed him off that he’d lost his only help because the man couldn’t get a handle on his alcohol addiction.

  He had no real interest in talking to the guy, but he should probably let Ted know he’d dropped his truck off at his parents’. He wasn’t sure where Ted was staying, but he might eventually need his pickup.

  Logan climbed out of the truck as Harper was coming through the convenience store door. He pointed next door. “I need to take care of something. You can wait in the truck. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  The woeful twang of a sad country song played from the jukebox as Logan stepped into the dimly lit bar. It smelled like stale beer, popcorn, and the sawdust sprinkled across the floor. He scanned the room, surprised at how many people were already there in the middle of the afternoon. But he guessed it was five o’clock somewhere.

  He didn’t see Ted, but spied a familiar face at the bar and crossed the room to clap the back of the man as he slid onto the stool next to him. “Hey, Zane. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  The other man’s shoulders tensed, then relaxed as he looked sideways, and his scowl eased a bit. “Hey, Rivers. I wasn’t planning to be, but apparently the old man needed a hand.”

  “I heard about Birch’s heart attack.” Birch Taylor had a well-earned reputation as the town drunk and was known for picking fights and getting into a few scrapes with the law. His son was often either the one getting him out of those scrapes or the one at the other end of his fists. “How’s he doing?”

  Zane shrugged. “He’s out of the hospital and ornery as ever. But at least we know now that he has a heart. I’ve never been sure before.” He turned to Logan and offered the merest ghost of a grin, which was akin to a full-on burst of laughter from anyone else. The broody cowboy didn’t show much in the way of emotion, and this was about the closest he got to actually cracking a joke.

  Although Logan guessed Zane had a right to be broody, having grown up in a small town with his father the butt of any number of jokes. Zane was a year ahead of Logan in school, but they’d had some classes together, and Zane had played hockey on the high school team with him and the James brothers. Zane had always played defense so he didn’t do a lot of scoring but he was big and had a mean scowl that scared most players away before he even had to touch them.

  He gave off a dangerous vibe, but Logan had never seen him get into a fight or raise a hand to anyone. Hamilton had known Birch for years and had a soft spot for his kid, so Zane had spent quite a few summers working as a hand on the ranch, and he had a gift with horses and animals. For a big guy, he was surprisingly gentle with animals. Quinn had teased him about being able to talk to animals and called him Dr. Dolittle. But only once.

  It was just Zane and his dad, and the money he earned on the ranch back then went to pay their rent. He’d also saved enough to buy an old pickup, and it wasn’t a week after he’d graduated that he packed it up and left town. But not before getting caught in a public argument with his father and the wrong end of a broken beer bottle that ended with twelve stitches and a trip to the ER.

  Zane had always been a good-lookin’ kid, and he’d grown into a handsome guy. Except for the long, jagged scar that ran from under the corner of his eye down across the edge of his cheek. A parting gift from his father that night and the final straw that had Zane leaving town.

  He’d been back a few times and stopped by the ranch, but Logan hadn’t seen him in a couple of years. “What have you been up to? I heard you were working a horse ranch in Montana.”

  Zane nodded. “Yeah, it was a good gig. I might go back. For now, I told Dad I’d stay through the holidays.”

  “Good to see you. You’ll have to come out to the ranch. We’ve—” Before he could finish his sentence, pain exploded in his cheek as Logan was sucker punched to the side of his face.

  Chapter 10

  Logan reeled back, and his hat flew off as he was shoved against the bar. Adrenaline spiked through him as he rose to his feet, his fists already raised. He felt Zane stand behind him as he glared at his former ranch hand. “You’d better back off, Ted. You might have gotten in one punch, but you won’t get another.”

  “Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it? You already took my job and any pride I had left.” Ted’s voice slurred as he spat out the words.

  “I didn’t take your job. You lost it when you showed up to work drunk.”

  “So what are you doing here?” He nodded to Zane. “You’re settin’ the bar pretty low if you’re considering this guy for my replacement.”

  “You need to watch your mouth, Ted.” It was taking all Logan had to keep himself in check and not drive his fist into the other man’s smug face. “I dropped your truck off at your folks so why don’t you go on home now.”

  “You gonna make me?” He took a step forward and raised his hands t
o shove Logan, but before he could, a dark-haired woman slipped between them and planted her hands on Ted’s chest.

  “Ted? Is that you? I was hoping I’d find you here. My cousin said you were a looker, but she failed to describe just how handsome you are in person,” Harper said.

  At least Logan thought it was Harper. Although she didn’t look, or act, or sound like the Harper he’d just spent the last few days with. This Harper was sultry and seductive as she dipped her head and pouted her lips. Her hip jutted out as she firmly lodged herself between the two men, and Logan noticed the top button of her shirt had been undone. The flash of skin visible almost had him undone.

  She was having the same effect on Ted, who had dropped his clenched fists and was staring hazy-eyed down at Harper’s chest. “Huh? Who’s your cousin?”

  “You all went to school together, and she told me to look you up when I came to town. Can I buy you a drink?” Even her voice was different, lower and with a hint of a southern accent.

  “Sure, honey,” Ted slurred to Harper, then looked back at Logan. “We’re not done here, Rivers. But don’t worry, you’ll get what’s coming to you.” He slung an arm around Harper’s shoulder, and she led him across the room.

  The anger Logan felt for getting sucker punched was nothing compared to the fury building in his chest at the sight of that man’s hand on Harper’s shoulder. How dare he touch her? He took a step forward but stopped as Zane’s hand clamped firmly on his shoulder.

  “She went to all that effort to break up the fight,” Zane said. “Don’t screw up her gesture by starting it over.”

  “You’re right.” Logan blew out a breath as he turned back to the bar and slammed his fist into the padded barstool. “But I still want to deck the guy. Or at least break the hand he’s using to touch her.”

  “Understood. Who is she?”

  “My new housekeeper.”

  Zane raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Decker comes in once a month and cleans our house, but she’s never looked like that. I swear she was old even when I was a kid.”

  “It’s temporary. Just through the holidays until my dad gets back.” Logan shook his head. “I haven’t told him that I fired Ted. Even though I know he would have done the same thing, he’s not gonna be happy about it.”

  “What’d the guy do?”

  “Besides show up drunk to work? I found him passed out in one of the horse stalls with a lit cigarette.”

  “With the horse in it?”

  Logan nodded.

  Zane’s eyes widened, and his mouth tightened into a hard line. “He could have set the whole barn on fire, killed himself and the horse. I don’t blame you for firing him. I would have kicked his ass off the ranch too. After I clocked him for putting the animal at risk.”

  “I almost did.”

  Zane leaned back against the bar. “Alcohol ain’t never caused nothing but trouble in my life. I’m telling you, no good ever comes from getting drunk.”

  “Agreed. But if that’s how you think, what are you doing here having a drink before you’ve even had supper?”

  “First of all, I’m having a drink of soda. And second, I’m here doing what I’ve been doing since I was eight years old.”

  As if on cue, Birch Taylor stumbled out of the men’s room and headed toward Zane. He lifted his voice and belted out an old Waylon Jennings song.

  Zane’s jaw tensed, but his face remained expressionless as he let out a weary sigh. “I’m taking care of my dad.”

  Before Logan could reply, Harper appeared at his back and took his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where’s Ted?”

  “I left him leaning against the jukebox trying to pick a song. The asshole thinks I’m going to dance with him.”

  Zane nodded toward the door. “Get out of here. We’ll continue this entertaining reunion another time.”

  Logan followed Harper out the door. The cold air felt good against his heated skin.

  “I’ll drive,” Harper said, heading for the driver’s side of the truck. “You need to take care of that eye. It’s starting to swell.”

  He passed her the keys. Having grown up with a strong-willed sister, he recognized the determined look in Harper’s eye and figured it wasn’t worth arguing with her. And it didn’t matter to him who drove them home.

  “Let me see it,” she said, leaning toward him as he climbed into the truck.

  He tilted his head to let her examine his eye, but wasn’t prepared for the zing of heat that shot through him as her fingers lightly skimmed his forehead.

  “It’s a little swollen, but no blood.” Harper reached into one of the grocery sacks and passed him a bag of frozen corn. “Here. Put this on it.”

  Logan pressed the cold bag to his face, more to appease her than out of concern for the swelling. “I’m all right. I’ve been hit much harder than this. The only reason he got one in was because he sucker punched me from behind.”

  She nodded. “I know. I followed you in and saw him hit you. It was a cheap shot. Asswipe.”

  “So you saw a big drunk guy punch me and thought you’d step in between us?” He was trying to keep his pride out of it, but she’d dinged it a pretty good one. “Because why? You didn’t think I could take him? I was handling it, you know. I didn’t need you to defend me.”

  “I wasn’t defending. I was diverting. Jerks like that have tiny Neanderthal brains. They just need something else to focus on.” She shifted gears as the truck sped up. “And I had no doubt you could take him, but I just went to all the trouble to buy these nice groceries, and I didn’t want them to spoil while I bailed you out of jail.”

  She offered him a small, impish grin, and his puffed-up arrogant pride deflated as he let out a laugh. “So, really it wasn’t even about me, huh? You put yourself in harm’s way because of the groceries?”

  She shrugged. “I found some nice pork chops. I didn’t want to see them go to waste.”

  * * *

  Later that night, Harper pulled her jacket around her as she hurried down the driveway. It was starting to snow and the flakes danced in the air, reflecting the moonlight as they swirled to the ground. Normally, she would have stopped to appreciate the beauty of the snow, but tonight all she could think about was the dip in temperature and how cold it was going to be sleeping in the barn.

  Logan still thought she was staying with a friend and had again offered her a ride back to town, but she’d brushed him off and assured him it was fine for her “friend” to pick her up. He did question why she had to walk out to the highway instead of them pulling up to the house, but Harper kept her focus on wiping down the counter and mumbled something about stretching her legs and the friend being kind of a jerk like that. What did it matter if she bad-mouthed her? She was a fake friend anyway.

  They’d had a good meal. She’d fried the pork chops and mashed some potatoes. It was nice having a stocked pantry, and Logan had raved about her gravy.

  She liked talking to him. Although she did more listening than talking. He had fun stories to tell about him and his sister growing up on the ranch. She hoped she’d get a chance to meet Quinn. And Max. That little kid sounded adorable. Logan said he was eight, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he knew Floyd, or if they were in the same class, or if they were friends.

  She still hadn’t told Logan about her son. She’d talked about growing up and had shared a little about her close relationship with her grandmother. But for the first time in a long time, she’d met someone who didn’t know anything about her past, who didn’t have any preconceived notions about her because they’d heard stories about her crazy mom.

  Logan didn’t know anything about her, and she liked the freedom of getting to be anyone she wanted to be. She wasn’t bogged down by her criminal record or being looked at through the screen of being a poor widow or the bad mom who abandoned he
r kid when she got sent to jail. She could just be herself, and it felt nice.

  She was only going to be here for a few weeks, a month tops, and then she’d never see Logan again. What was wrong with pretending her life was normal and she was an ordinary woman who happened to make excellent gravy?

  He seemed to like being around her. He listened when she talked and laughed at her snarky jokes. She’d set the table and bowed her head when he’d blessed the meal. She didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that it felt like they were a married couple sitting down to a typical supper. That it felt a little like they were playing house.

  But if they really were married, she’d have been able to kiss him and touch him. And she’d be tucked against him in bed right now, running her hands over his hard, muscled body instead of freezing her ass off as she scurried away from the house.

  She rounded the corner of the driveway and figured she’d gone far enough. If for some reason, Logan had happened to watch her leave, she should be out of his line of sight. She ducked behind one of the evergreen trees lining the driveway, then doubled back and snuck into the barn. Logan must have used the space heaters while he worked in the office earlier that night because the room still held a cozy warmth.

  She sat on the floor and played with the kittens to pass the time until she saw the lights go out in the main house. Even then, she waited another thirty minutes before her chest eased and she felt she was in the clear.

  Since she had stuck only the essentials into her backpack when she’d left, she had travel-size shampoo and conditioner and a razor, but not soap or shaving cream. Using the moonlight shining through the window and the dim light from her phone, she searched the bathroom and came up with a sliver of bar soap from the sink and what passed for a clean towel. The only towels under the sink were hand towels, but they’d get the job done. She’d dried herself with paper towels while she’d been at county, so this was a step up.