C is for Cowboy (ABCs of Love Sweet Romance Book 3)

by Brenna Jacobs

  Cash clicked his tongue as he walked into the barn. “Brownie,” he called and got a snort in return. He reached the mare’s stall, and Brownie nodded her head up and down in greeting. “Yeah, I’m ready for a ride too.” He patted Brownie’s neck then went to the tack room to get his saddle and harnesses, and a bridle and reins. He usually used the saddle he’d bought with his own money on his eighteenth birthday, but today he chose his granddad’s well-worn one. Cash used it when he needed a reminder of what he came from and where he wanted to be.

  He’d used it for a full year after Lindsey cheated on him, and he’d bought Scout to keep him company. Both had worked. Mostly.

  Fifteen minutes later Cash was saddled up, and he, Scout and Brownie were on their way toward the upper pasture. He breathed in the sharp sweetness of the prairie grass and horse. Life was good.

  He stayed out past sundown, fixing a few fences on his own and making note of others he’d have to come back to when he had some help. He was grateful for those. They’d have to be done soon, and they’d take him away from the ranch. One day hadn’t been enough for him to quit picturing Madi’s dimples.

  He rode back to the main house and dished up the stew and biscuits waiting for him. Most of the other cowboys had eaten, he was sure. The pot was mostly empty, and a lot of the new guys didn’t have the same reservations about eating with the wannabe cowgirls. But then, most of them rode four-wheelers to get things “done faster.”

  Cash preferred horseback. Faster didn’t mean better or more careful. He’d redone plenty of rushed repairs in the year since Early had bought the ranch. Early knew how to keep the Rocking M in the black by selling it as a “real” ranch, but he had a lot to learn about hiring “real” cowboys. Cash trusted Early would figure it out. Until then, Cash would stick around, but only because he didn’t want to see the ranch go to ruin, no matter who owned it.

  Cash carried his bowl back to his cabin. Usually he ate at the main house to save himself the trouble of returning any dishes, but tonight he wanted to eat alone. Or mostly alone, since he and Lyla shared a cabin. He could have bunked with the other cowboys, but he wasn’t leaving his baby sister alone in some cabin when she was the only woman here who wasn’t a guest. He’d put the fear of God into any cowboy who came near her, but he had a harder time convincing her to quit flirting with them.

  Carrying his almost-overflowing bowl in two hands and his biscuit in his mouth, Cash made his way outside and down the path to his cabin. He kicked the door until Lyla opened it.

  “Well, speak of the devil.” She opened the door wider, giving Cash a full view of who she was talking to: Madi. Of course.

  He paused and nearly dropped the biscuit from his mouth, but the stew was hot, and he was about five seconds away from dropping the bowl. He hurried inside, past Lyla and then right past Madi. There was no way to avoid her. His and Lyla’s front room wasn’t much bigger than the hotel room he and Madi had shared.

  Or… stayed in together.

  That sounded better. They hadn’t shared anything, just been in the same place at the same time.

  Madi didn’t say anything, but she hid a smile after he set the bowl down and shook the heat off his hands before taking the biscuit out of his mouth. His sister, on the other hand, had plenty to say.

  “If I’ve got time to do laundry for you, I can help out a guest with hers,” she said, staring him down with her hand on her hip. “And don’t let that dog come in here.”

  “I didn’t say you had to do my laundry.” He glanced at Madi who wasn’t hiding her smile now.

  “Yeah? And you’ve never said I didn’t have to, either.”

  Cash’s face felt as hot as his hands that had been holding the stew, which he’d much rather be eating as opposed to arguing with his sister in front of the woman he’d very much enjoyed kissing last night. With great reluctance he shooed Scout outside. He knew as well as anyone ranch dogs didn’t belong in the house, but he sure hated Lyla telling him.

  “Fine.” He couldn’t help himself, even though he knew he’d regret what he was about to say. “You don’t have to do my laundry anymore.” He hated laundry. “Happy?”

  He sat down and took a huge bite of his stew, which went down bitter even though his first bite back at the ranch house had been delicious. He tore off a piece of biscuit and shoved it in his mouth, but even the butter couldn’t mask the unpleasantness that permeated everything around him.

  “I’d better get going.” Madi glanced at Cash but spoke to his sister. “Thanks again, Lyla.”

  The old-injury-induced pinch in Cash’s chest acted up again as Madi walked to the door. To add even more pain, Lyla sent Cash a glare that hurt more than the time his horse kicked a hornet’s nest and bucked Cash off right into it. She didn’t get a lot of time with other women, and Cash knew she missed it. If Madi had taken her under her wing like he’d seen her do with the girls at the high school, he’d just ruined a good thing.

  “You can come hang out again, if you want,” Lyla said to Madi as she opened the door for her. “And I’ve got even more time to do laundry now that I don’t have to do Cash’s.”

  Madi laughed and gave Lyla a hug, and it was hornet’s nest all over again for Cash.

  “I’ll for sure come by again,” she said, leaning down to pet Scout who’d taken as much of a shine to her as Lyla had. “My reception is terrible here, so I’m going to have to save all my Insta posts for when I get home. I’ll have a lot of time on my hands if I have to actually make this a vacation.” She walked down the porch steps waving good-bye, but only to Lyla.

  “What is your deal?” Lyla asked as soon as she’d shut the door. “You were so rude.”

  “I wasn’t rude.” Cash shoveled a giant spoonful of stew into his mouth. “I’m tired, and I’m hungry.”

  “That’s not an excuse.” Lyla grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and sat across from him. “She said you were rude to her this morning too, but that she deserved it because she’d done something really stupid.” Lyla pulled Cash’s bowl toward her and took a big scoop out of it.

  “Get your own.” He pulled the bowl back, but it was a half-hearted effort. She could still reach it.

  “I missed eating supper.” She dipped her spoon in again. “Madi came in right as I was about to get a bowl.”

  Cash watched her eat. “She thinks she did something stupid?”

  “Yeah, but she didn’t say what.”

  Cash debated whether or not to tell his sister, but she had on her prairie-dog look. She’d keep digging until she got it out of him. “She kissed me, and she wanted to keep going.”

  Lyla stared at him. “Like… going, going?”

  Cash nodded.

  “Oh.” Lyla’s freckles burst into full view on her red cheeks. “I guess city girls move kinda fast.”

  “It wasn’t entirely her fault. I kissed her back.” He stirred the stew around. The deep pit in his stomach was still there, but food wasn’t going to fill it.

  “Kissing is different than… whatever it is she wanted to do.” Lyla stood and took his bowl from him. “You done?”

  He nodded, and she carried the bowl to the sink.

  “Nothing else happened though, right?” She worked intently at washing every last bit of stew out of Cash’s bowl.

  “Of course not.” He stood and brushed the crumbs from his biscuit into his hand then dropped them into the sink. “I put on the brakes before we even made it to a second kiss.”

  “Did you tell her why?” Now Lyla did look at him, punctuating the end of each word in her question.

  Cash leaned against the sink and crossed one foot over the other, keeping his eyes on his boots. “I told her I wanted to keep kissing her, but it was late and we both had a long day ahead of us. She’s barely spoke to me since. She thinks I was rude to her, but she’s the one who quit talking to me.” Rehashing everything with Lyla made him feel better about how he’d treated Madi. She’d pushed him away first, so why should
he go out of his way to be polite to her? Plus, he’d lost two days of work because of her.

  “But did you tell her the real reason?” Lyla handed him his bowl and a dishtowel.

  “That is the real reason.” He took them and wiped the dishtowel around the bowl over and over long after it was dry.

  “Uh huh.” She took the bowl from him and set it on the counter. He expected her to have more to say. Something about being honest with Madi or with himself. But she surprised him by laying her hand on his arm and leaving it there until he looked at her. “I’m sorry. She seems so nice.”

  Cash took off his hat and scratched the back of his neck. “She is nice. Just not the kind of nice I’m looking for.”

  Chapter Ten

  Madi sat on her bed and stared at the pamphlet of activities the ranch offered. In all her determination to prove to Vance how independent she was, she’d signed up for the toughest activities when she booked this trip. Daily rides moving cattle and sheep to new pastures? Check. Health check and vaccinating herds? Check. Learn to rope? Check. Five-day pack trip through the mountains camping and fishing even though she’d never done any of those things? Check.

  They all looked fun—depending on your definition of fun—and they’d definitely fill every day of her “vacation,” but would make it less of a vacation. Vacation meant lying around on a beach posting some inspirational messages about dancing with waves. It didn’t involve herding cows or fly fishing. She couldn’t think of one inspirational thing to say about cows. Even if she could, she wouldn’t be able to post because—despite how it was advertised—the Wi-Fi at Rocking M sucked.

  She sighed. Was it too soon to go home?

  Madi already knew the answer to that. At least there was a daily yoga class which happened to be taught by Lyla. That she could definitely do.

  But as she was about to toss the pamphlet aside, she glanced at it again.

  “You’re not here to do all the stuff you can do in LA,” Madi told herself. She couldn’t prove she could make it on her own if she stayed in her room the whole time she was here. Or, worse, went home. Which is what she really, really wanted to do. It had been crazy for her to come on this trip. All the excitement she’d worked up to get herself there had disappeared last night when Cash had made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with her.

  Vance had been right. Madi couldn’t make it on her own. Barely two weeks had passed since he’d broken up with her, and she’d been willing to be sweet-talked into bed with another guy after only knowing him a few hours just because she hated being alone. She’d never done anything like that before. What had driven her to act like that last night?

  Cash had seemed like a nice guy. A gentleman even. But that didn’t excuse her behavior, and throwing herself at him obviously hadn’t impressed him. Although, in her defense he had said something about taking her to bed and not been shy about returning her kiss.

  So maybe he wasn’t so nice after all.

  Madi opened the pamphlet again and narrowed her eyes at all the other activities that didn’t need to be pre-scheduled. Maybe yesterday she couldn’t make it on her own, but, starting today, she was going to try. Forget Vance and Cash and every other guy on this planet. Madi didn’t need any of them.

  She picked up a pencil and circled every activity that didn’t have Cash’s name by it as the instructor.

  “How many different kinds of shooting are there?” she muttered as she circled three of them. No matter how many there were, she’d be there if it meant not seeing Cash.

  When she’d scheduled herself for every possible activity, she threw the pencil onto the table and headed to the breakfast room to grab a quick bite before the first activity. She had no idea what to wear to feed goats, and she wanted to leave herself plenty of time to decide. Once again she was glad she never prescribed to the “pack light, travel easy” theory.

  The smell of bacon was the first thing that hit Madi as she walked into the dining room. The second thing was the sight of Cash in a pair of tight Wranglers—that’s what cowboys wore, right?—and a button up shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. And his black hat of course. She didn’t mind being hit by that smell or sight, but she wouldn’t be partaking in bacon or cowboys. She tore her eyes off Cash’s backside and headed to the opposite end of the buffet table where there was plenty of yogurt and no bacon or Cash.

  Madi nearly doubled back to the trays of bacon, eggs and biscuits when she saw there wasn’t any Greek yogurt, but she didn’t want to risk running into Cash. She grabbed a container of the regular yogurt and headed toward the exit when she ran into Lyla.

  “Hi!” Madi was thrilled to see a friendly face, although Lyla’s smile seemed more forced than it had the night before. “I’m coming to your yoga class today. I’m sure I’ll need it after riding horses this afternoon.”

  “Is that all you’re eating?” Lyla eyed Madi’s yogurt, still not returning her smile. “You’ll need more than a little yogurt to get you through to lunch. Riding horses for two hours is exercise.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay. I’ll grab a granola bar on my way out.” Madi would have appreciated the excuse Lyla had given her to eat the big breakfast she really wanted if Lyla hadn’t sounded so condescending delivering it. She seemed annoyed with Madi, and Madi had no idea what she’d done in the twelve hours since she’d seen her.

  Unless…

  Unless Cash had told her what had happened between the two of them.

  Madi felt her face flush thinking about that possibility. She didn’t know what else could explain the cold shoulder Lyla was giving her.

  “I guess I’ll see you this afternoon.” Madi’s words came out sounding like a question. Or a plea. She sounded like she was begging Lyla to be her friend. Which was stupid because Lyla had been the one fangirling over her.

  “Yep. Have a good time.” Lyla walked away before Madi could say anything else, and Madi went away questioning again why she’d left LA.

  When she got to her room, she went straight to the full-length closet mirror and looked herself in the eyes.

  “You are smart. You are successful. You are worthy of love,” she said aloud, then repeated it four more times. Her therapist had taught her that trick years ago, and it generally pulled her out of whatever self-defeating funk she’d gotten herself into. Usually this feeling of smallness was brought on by mean comments on her Insta or Twitter, but having people be rude to her face hurt more than insults hurled by anonymous trolls.

  Madi closed her eyes and took ten deep breaths, then repeated her mantra. Once she could smile at herself, she was good to go. She slipped on her favorite graphic tee with the T-Rex in a cape with the caption Dino-might and the Wranglers she’d paid way too much for. Cash and Lyla would probably both die of shame if they knew how trendy Wranglers were in LA. Last, she put on her bright pink hat and smoothed her braids over her shoulders.

  “Go big, or go home,” she said to her reflection. She’d out-cowgirl every lady there, including Lyla.

  With her hat and her confidence adjusted, Madi checked her phone one last time to see if her posts would go through, but her room proved again to be a Wi-Fi dead zone. She tucked the phone in her pocket just in case they got to a place more conducive to reception, but she wasn’t holding out much hope. She also wasn’t feeling as much anxiety about being phone-free as she’d expected. It actually felt kind of…

  Refreshing.

  Or maybe that was the Montana air.

  Madi made her way to the corral, which happened to be behind Lyla and Cash’s cabin. Madi couldn’t help but glance at it as she walked by. There wasn’t a sign of either of them. She should have been relieved by their absence, just like she should have been more anxious about no Wi-Fi, but Montana was proving to be contrary to everything she’d expected. She should also have been missing Vance more than she was and thinking less about Cash than she was, but those things weren’t happening either.

  The air was less ref
reshing when she got to the barn, although she didn’t mind the smell of manure as much as she thought she would. Proof again that Montana was determined to overturn her assumptions at every turn. The cowboy helping out the other guests wasn’t as cute or as young as Cash, but he was nice, and when her phone fell out of her pocket, he handed it to her and said, “You’ll want this for some pictures.”

  Cowboy Owen was right. She would need her phone. And she didn’t need anyone telling her she couldn’t “Be Present” with it, even if he had a better butt and name than Owen.

  Owen helped her into the saddle and told her the horse’s name was Brownie. That wasn’t the most original name Madi had ever heard for a brown horse, but she seemed like a decent horse anyway.

  “Do you mind taking a picture for me?” she asked Owen and handed him her phone.

  He took one shot and handed the phone back to her, but it took one glance at the picture for Madi to hand her phone back to Owen. “Do you mind taking another?” She adjusted her hat and tipped up her chin. “Actually, just take a whole bunch, if you don’t mind.”

  Owen took more pictures while the other guests climbed on their horses with some help from another employee. Madi didn’t realize who it was until she heard Lyla’s voice.

  “We’d better get moving, Owen,” she said. “These horses are getting restless.”

  Madi turned to look at Lyla at the same time Owen handed Madi her phone. Cash was also helping the guest behind Madi. She hurriedly turned back around before he could see her, and, as if on cue, the horse next to hers bumped Madi’s leg which set off a series of unfortunate events.

  First, Madi yelped. She hadn’t ridden much, and she’d certainly never been bumped by an animal big enough to hurt her before.

  Second, she accidentally kicked her horse, which, along with her yelp, startled it into trotting out of the corral. Madi let go of her phone to grab onto the saddle horn and hang on for dear life as Brownie headed for open pasture. She flew up and down, hitting the saddle hard on every down, but she was determined not to let go of that horn thingie. The ground looked even more painful than the saddle.