Her Last Chance Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “Tripp only looks at me like he wants to give me a piece of his mind.” Hannah released an awkward laugh. “And then he generally does.”

  The blonde gave a slow shake of her head. “Not true, Hannah. Maybe you should open your eyes. That cowboy is smitten.” AJ glanced at her watch. “Uh-oh, I promised to be outside.”

  “See you back at the ranch,” Hannah said, still dumbfounded by the other woman’s remarks.

  “Yes.” AJ reached out to catch Hannah in a hug. “Good to see you.”

  Hannah paid for her vitamins and headed out of the store, still pondering AJ’s words. The morning sunshine was already blinding and hot. Hannah slipped on her sunglasses and looked down the street. There was Tripp, waiting on the bench under a store canopy.

  He stood and smiled when he saw her.

  Smitten?

  “How come I beat you back to the truck?” he asked.

  “I ran into AJ. We were chatting. She and Travis are running errands today.”

  “You all right? You sound odd,” he asked as he helped her into the truck.

  “I’m fine.” Hannah glanced into the back seat of the cab as she fastened her seat belt. She did a double take. The entire back seat was filled with pink polka-dot shopping bags. “Tripp, what is that?”

  He grinned and looked at her. There was a glint of humor in his eyes. “I had so much fun at that baby shop, I went back and picked up a few things.”

  A few things? Hannah was stunned silent. It was all she could do to close her gaping mouth.

  “What do you think?” Tripp asked.

  “What are they for?”

  He looked at her like she was a few heifers short of a herd. “For your baby. You said a girl, right?”

  She nodded numbly.

  “Don’t worry. That clerk said to keep the tags and you can return anything that doesn’t work for little baby Anne.”

  Hannah stared at him.

  “Hot in here.” He started the truck. “Let’s get that air conditioner cranked up.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Tripp turned at her words and peered closely, blue eyes filled with concern. “Hey, there. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m speechless.”

  “I’m sure it’s only temporary.” He chuckled. “By the time we’re home, you’ll be back to giving me what for.”

  An unfamiliar ache welled up inside of Hannah.

  Home. By the time they were home.

  She stared at his strong profile, knowing that she was very much in danger of forgetting that she didn’t believe in happy endings and losing her heart to this stubborn, unpredictable and generous cowboy anyhow.

  * * *

  “What do you think?” Tripp asked. The sun had begun its slow descent as he turned from the center of the pen toward Hannah. She had been sitting on a folding chair under a tree for hours while he went through the steps of the judging routine with Jane.

  “I’m impressed.” She stood and stretched before walking up to the pen. “You said Jane was having issues with the side pass and pivot. I thought she ran through everything like a pro.”

  “You think she’s weak in any area?”

  “Tripp, honestly, this horse is amazing and so is her trainer. Aren’t you going to show me your freestyle performance?”

  “It’s getting late and I’ve kept you from your daughter long enough.”

  “Jane has to get used to an audience,” Hannah countered.

  “I’ve been running through it with the music and all with the kids watching over at the girls’ ranch. They have a better sound system there. Jane can handle an audience. And we have it nailed down to the three and a half minutes required.”

  “I’m sorry I missed that.”

  “It’s a not fancy show like some of those trainers will have, but it’s a solid performance that will demonstrate this horse is special. Maybe I’ll get a judge who favors simplicity over grandstanding.”

  Tripp opened the gate and locked it behind himself. “Did I remember to tell you that Lucy’s sending me to a two-day conference in Tulsa next week? You’re going to be in charge.”

  “Only twice already and it’s on the calendar.”

  “Did I? Well, the big alumni barbecue and rodeo will be over by then.”

  “And the chili cook-off, too,” she said with a grin.

  “My point here is that things will have returned to normal. Whatever that is.”

  “You’re only gone for two days and a night. I can handle it.”

  “You’re also five months pregnant.”

  “Don’t start that again. I’ve been here since late May. Surely you trust me by now.”

  “Not about trust. I trust you, Hannah. You know that.”

  Jane whinnied loudly as if to tell them to stop bickering.

  “Look at her,” Hannah said. Awe laced her voice. “It’s horse ballet,” she whispered.

  They were silent for a few moments. In the pen Jane danced across the dirt, her copper mane flying as she showed off, enjoying the audience.

  Tripp turned and leaned back against the fence, his eyes on Hannah.

  “She’s so lovely,” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, his attention focused on the woman next to him. A soft breeze fluttered the trees overhead. Instead of the usual humidity, tonight the temperature had dropped a tad as though Mother Nature was as tired of summer as everyone else.

  When Hannah’s hair blew into her face, he was unable to resist leaning closer to gently brush the strands from her cheek. Their gazes met and held, and somehow Tripp closed the distance between them.

  Hannah’s lashes fluttered downward as he bent his head until his lips grazed hers, hesitantly until he realized she was kissing him back. Then Tripp was helpless to do anything but take her in his arms and deepen the kiss until he was lost in the sweetness and rightness of the moment. It was as if his whole life he’d been waiting for that kiss and this woman.

  It was Hannah who stepped out of his arms. He watched her closely, but she just stood there. Her eyes were round, and she held her fingers to her mouth as if she was as stunned as he was.

  What just happened? Why is my heart ramming up against my ribs and my breath catching in my throat?

  Tripp opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like he had a mental saddlebag filled with things to say to a woman after he kissed her. Fact was, his saddlebag was pretty much empty. Apparently, his mind was, too. Yet, there was no way he wished it hadn’t happened.

  “I’m not sure if I should apologize or say thank you,” he finally said.

  Hannah finally blinked and looked at him. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Not much to say,” he admitted.

  Tripp’s phone began to buzz, and the sound startled him, pulling him out of his reverie.

  “Mine’s buzzing, too,” Hannah said.

  “That can’t be good,” Tripp said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  “AJ,” Hannah said, glancing at the screen of her cell. “She had a boy.”

  “Travis Jake Maxwell.” Tripp grinned and shook his head.

  “Oh, my, this is so wonderful.”

  “Yep, and I’m guessing that kid will be as funny-looking as his parents.”

  “I heard Travis was on the cover of Tulsa Now magazine a while back. Gosh, and AJ looks like a model. Their baby is going to be beautiful.”

  “I was kidding, Hannah.” He shook his head. “The irony here is that Travis was burned so badly in the past, he was dead set against relationships. Until AJ came along. He fell hard and fast.”

  “I suppose you can’t plan for everything, can you?” she said softly without looking at him.

  “No. I guess not.”

&n
bsp; When the breeze blew Hannah’s hair again, Tripp clenched his hands at his sides. She nodded toward the bunkhouse.

  “Rue is watching Clementine. I better go.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded.

  Hannah turned from him and then stopped and pivoted right back around. “Don’t apologize,” she said with a determined look in her eye. “That was a very good kiss.”

  His lips twitched as she walked away. Yeah, she was right. It was a very good kiss. Behind him, Jane nickered. When Tripp didn’t turn, she bumped into the fence and nearly knocked off his hat with a nudge from her nose. He finally turned and met the mare’s velvet brown eyes.

  Tripp released a long breath. “Yeah, I know. She likes us. Now all we have to do is find a way to make her stay.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Did you ever smell anything so amazing?”

  Hannah turned at Tripp’s voice. She’d been trying to ignore his presence in the small exhibitor tent to her left for the last few hours. Though the tent canopy was down on that side, she still caught glimpses of him and found herself thinking about that kiss last night.

  She’d lost sleep over that kiss. Well, she certainly did not intend to lose the Big Heart Ranch chili competition over it. Maybe that was his strategy.

  It wasn’t going to work.

  “Hey, anyone home over there?” he persisted.

  “Were you speaking to me?” Hannah asked. She lifted the side flap on her tented booth and glanced over at him ever so nonchalantly. The man looked like Clint Eastwood in an apron. Tall and lean and all cowboy, minus the cowboy hat today. And apparently cooking brought out the best in him because he was grinning as he stirred a giant cast-iron pot.

  “Who else would I be talking to?” he asked. “My competitor on the left is Mrs. Hagwood, the retired town librarian, and she’s profoundly deaf. I have to keep going over to her tent to tell her that her phone is ringing.”

  “Good for her. No interruptions while she’s cooking.”

  “I guess.” Tripp shrugged. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

  He carefully wiped the edge of his pot with a paper towel. Hannah inched closer to look at his tent. The place was immaculate. She frowned as she glanced around her slightly disorganized cooking table, strewn with spices and over to the corner of the tent, where Clementine sat on the ground coloring in a book. Well, she was a free spirit. Nothing wrong with that.

  She looked back at Tripp somewhat confused. “I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”

  “Never mind. It was rhetorical.”

  “I see.” Hannah inhaled deeply. The chili cook-off was into its third hour, enough time to allow the enticing blend of sausage, beef, tomatoes and spices to mingle and create a potent aroma. “It really smells amazing now that everyone’s chili is simmering, doesn’t it?”

  He stared at her and chuckled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Inside joke.” He nodded toward the stove. “Ever cooked on a camp stove before?”

  “I have not and I must admit that there has been a bit of a learning curve.”

  “Hi, Mr. Tripp,” Clementine called. She peeked around Hannah and waved.

  “Clementine. I didn’t know you were there. What are you doing?”

  “Coloring.” She looked at her mother. “Momma, I’m hungry.”

  “She can have some of my chili,” Tripp called.

  “Or we can borrow your mini-me and take her for hot dogs and curly fries,” Dutch said as he approached her booth with Rue.

  “Hot dogs,” Clementine said. Her eyes lit up.

  Hannah frowned at the exchange.

  “Dear, let us take Clementine,” Rue said.

  “Please, Momma,” Clementine pleaded.

  “Dutch and I will take good care of her,” Rue continued. “We’re on our way to find something to eat right now.”

  “Rue, you’re always helping me out. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  “Think of us as honorary grandparents. We get to wind her up and tire her out. Then we give her back to you. It’s a wonderful arrangement.”

  “Yeah, and we’re real good at it,” Dutch said.

  “If you’re sure,” Hannah said.

  “Very sure. Are there any special stops we should make along the way?” Rue asked.

  “Clementine wants to watch Dub Harris in the greased pig competition and she wants to ride a burro.”

  “I do believe we can handle that,” Dutch said.

  Hannah glanced at her watch. “I didn’t think about the time factor when I signed up for this. It’s pretty much an all-afternoon event.” She sighed. “I was in a rush to sign up so I could beat Tripp.”

  “Understandable,” Dutch said with a glance over at Tripp.

  “We’ll be back later to see who wins,” Rue said.

  “To see me win,” Hannah added.

  “I heard that,” Tripp called. “My chili is ready for tasting. Is yours?”

  Hannah grabbed the wooden spoon and stirred her own velvety mixture. “Mine is, as well.”

  Next door, Tripp positioned a mason jar in a prominent position near his cutlery and napkins.

  “What’s he doing over there?” Hannah whispered to Dutch.

  “A little side fund-raising. That’s a donation jar to raise money for the Pawhuska Orphanage.”

  “I thought the chili was free. Take a scorecard, sample chili and turn it in,” Hannah said.

  “Sure, it’s free. They pay money to get in the gate. Tripp there is utilizing a little free enterprise. Hit ’em hard and hit ’em fast while their taste buds are dancing.”

  “Two can play at that game,” Hannah said. “I need you to go to my bunkhouse and bring me the two Texas sheet cakes that are on the counter.”

  “You made cakes?”

  “I was going to just put them on the buffet table but I can see I’ve been approaching this all wrong.”

  “Let’s see who raises more money for the orphanage,” Dutch said with a grin.

  “Exactly.”

  “How much are you going to charge for each piece?”

  “I’m not going to charge. I’m going to take donations.” She nodded to her left. “Just like he’s doing.”

  “Yee-haw. Let the games begin.”

  With the appearance of the cake, Hannah was suddenly so busy she almost didn’t have time to think about Tripp being next door. The line to her tent rivaled Tripp’s line. After scooping up chili samples, she continued to cut cakes.

  Yet, despite being busy, she was aware of him and caught herself peeking a glance over at the other tent watching him interact with his friends and neighbors and offer a greeting and a smile. This was a Tripp that wasn’t seen very often, she was certain. He liked people much more than he let on and enjoyed their approval.

  Occasionally, his gaze met hers and he’d smile, and her heart would catch and she’d forget what she was doing.

  “Hannah,” Tripp called out hours later.

  “What?” She pulled off her plastic gloves and grabbed a bottle of water. Turning toward his tent, she met the blue eyes assessing her with respect and a hint of something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Interest?

  “They’re announcing the cook-off winners over at the main podium. We can hear it from here.”

  “Oh, that means we’re done.” Hannah leaned against the table with relief and glanced around her. The chili was nearly gone and all that remained of the cake was crumbs. Hannah absently swiped her finger along an empty sheet cake tray and tasted bits of delicate chocolate cake. Absolutely delicious, even if she was a bit biased.

  She looked over at Tripp’s tent. He was neatly stacking up his kettles and utensils.

  “Your pot is empty?” she asked.

  “Uh-huh. They cleaned
me out. But I saved you a cup of chili. Want to trade?”

  “Yes. I’m starving. And, of course, I want to taste your prize-winning chili.”

  “You want to try to figure out the ingredients,” Tripp said.

  Hannah bit back a laugh. “That, too.”

  Tripp pulled off his apron and closed the distance between the booths. He offered her a paper cup with a spoon and glanced around her tent. “Any cake left?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, sorry.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  She scooped up a sample of her chili and handed it to him before she took the cup he offered. “Mine is not vegetarian.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll work around it.”

  Hannah dug her spoon into his chili and lifted it to her mouth. “Oh, this is good. This is very good.”

  “Yeah?” He laughed. “Maybe you could try not to sound so surprised.”

  She tasted again and frowned, closing her eyes for a moment as she separated the flavors in her mind.

  “You’re frowning.”

  “No, I’m analyzing. Is that sweet potato in there? And do I taste a bit of cumin?”

  “Right on all counts.”

  “Black beans and lentils,” she added.

  “Well done, chef.”

  “What kind of chilies?”

  “Ancho, pasilla and arbol.” He paused. “And maybe a hint of chipotle.”

  “Oh, Tripp, this is a winner. I’d really like the recipe.”

  “We can negotiate.” He raised his brows. “When you bake another cake.”

  She chuckled at his response.

  Overhead, a microphone screeched and squealed. “Big Heart Ranch’s own Tripp Walker wins the chili cook-off. Second place goes to Hannah Vincent, also of Big Heart Ranch.”

  “Congratulations,” Hannah said with a slight bow of deference. “Well deserved.”

  “Second place is pretty good for your first year,” Tripp said.

  “I am not a sore loser. In fact, I am delighted to have had the opportunity to compete against you.” Hannah grabbed the glass jar and started counting the cake donations.

  “That’s the spirit. How much money do you have in that jar?”