Cowboy Strong - Includes a bonus novella

by Carolyn Brown

  Pax poked him on the arm. “Well, we’ll start by watching the stars.”

  Maverick’s laughter rang out across the ranch. “You should marry her already.”

  “I intend to, and you’ll be standing right beside me.” Pax got into his truck again and then remembered he’d left the beer sitting on the porch. He slapped himself on the forehead, slung open the door, and jogged across the yard—again.

  “I’m starting to believe this might be real after all,” Maverick hollered from the swing. “Only a cowboy in love would be so forgetful.”

  Pax grabbed the beer and headed back to his truck. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it,” Maverick called out.

  Pax arrived at the Bar C two minutes late, knocked on the door, and was surprised when Matt threw it open. “Come on in. Alana’s runnin’ a little late. After she and Bridget got home from that dress business today, she went out to the hay field and worked until about thirty minutes ago.”

  “How are you feeling?” He followed Matt into the living room and took a seat on the sofa.

  “I get tired more each day, but usually after a little nap, I’m ready to go again. I’m glad that I’m able to do what I can,” Matt answered.

  “Does Lucas know?” Pax asked.

  Matt shook his head. “No, and I’m not telling him until after the wedding. The only people who know are God, my doctor, you, and Alana, and that’s the way I want to keep it. I can’t stand the idea of discussing the issue with everyone in the county or having folks bringing food to the house like I’m already dead. Alana needs this to be a happy time.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Alana entered the room, crossed over to the sofa, and planted a kiss on the top of Pax’s head. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Yes, you are, and you look beautiful, as usual.” Pax stood up and laced his fingers in hers.

  “Well, thank you.” Alana beamed. “Sorry I was a little late.”

  “Takes a rancher to understand a rancher,” he said. “We both have jobs to take care of.”

  “God, I’m glad you aren’t marrying a city slicker.” Matt picked up the remote, popped the footrest up on his recliner, and started surfing through the channels.

  “See you later, Daddy,” Alana called out as she and Pax left the room. She picked up a quilt from the bottom stair step on her way out. “See, still in the package. I saved it for a special occasion.”

  “I’m honored.” He raised her hand and kissed the knuckles.

  He turned on the radio when they got into the truck and kept time to the music with his thumbs on the steering wheel as they drove toward an old abandoned homestead a couple of miles west of Daisy.

  “We’re going back to Baxter’s pond, aren’t we?” Alana asked when he turned right out of town.

  “I thought that might be a nice quiet place,” he said, “but, Alana, after tonight we really need to spend more time with your dad, even if it’s watching television with him.”

  “Thank God you said that,” she said. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. But tonight I’m glad for some time with you. I haven’t been to Baxter’s pond since we were in high school. I wonder if it’s still as beautiful as it used to be.” She turned off the radio. “I’ve always loved the way the moon and stars are reflected in the water.”

  “Me too.” Pax drove another half a mile and slowed down to make the turn. The moon lit up an old weathered house with red roses still growing in front of the porch. He moved along at less than five miles an hour, keeping the tires in a path that was really only two ruts with weeds growing up in the middle.

  When they got closer, the light from the moon also let them see a dozen trucks parked around the pond. “Guess we’re not the only ones who discovered Baxter’s pond.”

  He braked and country music floated across the flat country right into the pickup with them. Alan Jackson was singing, “Good Time.” A dozen or more teenagers were doing a line dance at the edge of the pond.

  “Unless you want to party, I guess we had better go find us another place for our date tonight,” he said.

  “We’re a little old to be out there with a bunch of high school kids like that. Oh, my!” She pointed.

  When the song ended at least half of the kids peeled off their clothing, and jumped into the pond.

  “Have you ever been skinny-dipping?” Pax turned the truck around and headed back to town.

  “I was far too self-conscious about my size to do that in high school. Besides, that water is damn cold, coming up from the springs the way it does,” she said.

  “Then I guess there won’t be any sex until they get out.” He laughed.

  “How about you?” she asked.

  “Not in Baxter’s pond, and not with a girl unless taking a shower together counts,” he said.

  “I know just the place,” she said. “There’s a shallow stream at the back of the Bar C that’s pretty nice.”

  “Are we going to skinny-dip?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  “If we do, that’ll be all we do, because our stream is every bit as cold as Baxter’s pond,” she giggled. “Not even a big old strong cowboy like you could keep things ready in that kind of icy water.”

  “Oh, honey, I bet we could get so hot we’d boil that water,” he said.

  “You know we really shouldn’t,” she said.

  “Probably not, but it would be fun to try to see if we could warm the water wouldn’t it?” he teased.

  “Oh, yeah.” She directed him to a dirt road leading off to the back side of the ranch. “I’ll open and shut the gate. I hope that beer was good and cold.”

  “I had it in the freezer for more than an hour.” He turned when she pointed and then braked when he came face-to-face with a gate.

  She was out of the passenger’s seat before the truck came to a full stop and opened the wide gate. When he pulled through it, she shut it and got back into the vehicle. “Straight ahead about a quarter of a mile. Stay in the ruts. You ever been back here?”

  “Nope,” he answered. “Is this where you take your fellers?”

  She slapped his arm. “No, this is where I go when my fellers or my parents or anyone else upsets me. You’ve heard folks talk about someone being their person?” She put air quotes around the last two words. “Well, this is even better than having a person to tell all your darkest secrets to. This is my place where I sort out all my problems. I’ve never shared it with anyone. Park right there under that tree.”

  The clear water looked to be about knee deep and served as a mirror for the moon and stars. There were no kids playing loud music or skinny-dipping. Pax felt like he was walking on air when he got out of the truck, knowing that he was the first person she’d brought to her secret place. He grabbed the beer from the backseat and headed down the grassy embankment to the bubbling creek.

  She followed right behind him with the quilt in her hands. She flipped it out on the grass close to the edge of the creek, sat down, and removed her boots and socks, then stuck her feet into the cool, clear water.

  “Come right on in, the water is fine,” she teased.

  “I wish this creek passed through the back side of our land.” He set the beer down and removed his boots. He whistled through his teeth when the cold water bubbled over his feet. “Damn that’s cold!”

  “My cowboy isn’t as strong as I thought.” She popped the top of a can of beer and handed it to him, then opened a second one and took a long drink. “So you still thinking about skinny-dippin’ in my little creek?”

  “No, ma’am, but I might be talked into skinny-dippin’ in a big old Jacuzzi tub in a hotel room somewhere. Want to take this quilt and party up to Amarillo?” he asked.

  “I’d rather stay right here,” she said. “Like you’ve told me so many times, I’m a ranchin’ woman, not a city girl. If you really want to go skinny-dippin’ with me, then you have to do it right here.”

  He took that as a dare, downed the rest of
his beer for some liquid courage, and got to his feet. He found Luke Bryan’s “Knockin’ Boots” on his phone and turned up the volume as loud as it would go. Moving his shoulders and hips to the music, he turned his back to her and teased her by taking off his shirt a little at a time. When he turned back, she was on her feet and was twirling her shirt around the top of her head.

  “Guess I’m not getting a thing over on you, am I?” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it toward the tree.

  “Never.” Alana took down her hair and shook it loose.

  He took off his belt and pulled it free of the loops.

  She did the same. Lord, that woman could make a mint at a strip club the way she tormented him with the simple act of unzipping her jeans.

  Slow piano music started the next song on his play list. Lorrie Morgan sang, “A Picture of Me Without You.” He opened his arms and they swayed together. He’d never danced completely naked with a woman. His heartbeat and pulse both jacked up several notches. Not even the cold water could take care of the erection pressing against her lower belly—at least he didn’t think it could.

  She touched his phone with her toe and then did the same to hers, and Whitney Duncan started singing “Skinny Dippin’.” The lyrics told about chills from the water and chills from the way he kissed her. He pressed his lips to hers and felt both of those. She led him out into the creek, wrapped her arms around him, and then fell backward into the shallow water and brought him down on top of herself.

  His lips found hers, and not even the chilly water could take away his need for her. She reached down between them and guided him in her. They forgot about the temperature of the water and all the crazy things going on in their lives. The world disappeared, and they were the only two people left on earth.

  Sometime near dawn they awoke, wrapped up in the quilt like they were encased in a cocoon. Her head was on his shoulder. Their clothing was scattered around them in the grass that was now wet with dew. Both of their cell phones had been turned off and tossed to the side, and the only sounds they heard were the gentle bubbling of the creek as it went on about its business and the gentle cooing of a mourning dove.

  “Good morning,” Pax said.

  “Mornin’ to you,” she responded. “Think maybe we better get our clothes on and go home?”

  “Ten more minutes.” He pulled her closer to him. “Now I see why you love it here. Thank you for letting me be the first one you shared it with.”

  “You deserve it. You’re going to marry me.” Her warm breath tickled his ear.

  “Maybe fifteen minutes,” he said.

  “Make it twenty at least,” she said as she rolled over on top of him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Not even sucking on lemons could have wiped the smile off Alana’s face the next day when she thought about the night before. Her eyes widened as realization dawned, and she threw her hand over her mouth and moaned.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Lucas wiped the grease from his hands and then tossed her the red rag.

  She cleaned the dirt and grime from her hands. “Nothing, I just hope this damned old tractor starts up when I turn the key,” she lied. “I hate to give it up, since it’s the first one that Daddy let me drive when I was twelve years old, but poor old thing’s wearin’ out.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Lucas laughed. “She’s runnin’ on constant cussin’, bubble gum, and bailing wire these days.”

  The tractor’s engine turned over on the first try, and Alana drove it out of the barn. She was almost afraid to turn it off when she reached the pasture she was supposed to plow, but she simply had to talk to Pax.

  For two people who ran from each other for so long, y’all are sure makin’ up for lost time, the voice in her head pestered her.

  “Oh shut up!” Alana sent up a prayer that had more to do with the red-hot sex in a cold creek than it did with being able to start a tractor again.

  She slipped her phone from her shirt pocket, but before she could touch the screen, the damned thing rang. She had to scramble to keep from dropping it and was out of breath when she finally answered. “Hello, Pax. I was about to call you…”

  “About last night? I’m so sorry, Alana. I got so caught up in the moment, and I wasn’t thinking about us having sex, so I didn’t come prepared,” Pax said. “When can you take one of those tests?”

  “I’ll know in a week either way,” she told him. “And I was caught up in the moment too, so part of the blame is on me. We can’t do that again.”

  “Not even—” he started.

  “Not even,” she butted in. “It’ll make the annulment that much tougher. Besides, we’re going to be too busy between now and then for much time alone anyway.”

  “It was pretty amazing,” he said.

  “Yep,” she agreed.

  “So what’s on our agenda for tonight?” he asked.

  “If you want to come over, we could play dominoes with Daddy,” she suggested.

  “Sounds great. I’ll be there at seven-thirty,” he told her.

  She sighed and put the phone back in her pocket. From the time she was old enough to know that boys were different from girls, she’d felt something for Paxton Baker. Then there was that incident when he kissed her. The next day she’d made up her mind to apologize for slapping him, but when she found him, he and Amanda Sue Williams were behind the school buses with their lips locked.

  “Boys!” she muttered. “They think they’re the only ones who feel rejection?”

  She started up the tractor engine, put her earbuds in, and started the playlist in her phone.

  * * *

  Pax threw his tools in the back of the old ranch work truck and was about to get into the cab when his phone rang. He saw that it was Alana and answered it before he even started the engine.

  “I need help,” she said.

  “Right now?” he asked.

  “This very minute. I got a call from Daddy. Can you go with me to Plainview to get him? He’s confused. I can drive him home, but I’ll need someone to bring my vehicle back,” she said. “He’s sittin’ on the side of the road.”

  “Broke down?” Pax started up the engine, then changed his mind.

  “No, he’s lost and doesn’t know what to do.”

  “I can be there by the time you get your truck fired up if you don’t mind me coming as I am,” he said.

  “I don’t care how you look. I’m a mess too. I’d just walked into the house after plowing all day in an open cab tractor,” she told him. “So I’m sure not a beauty queen right now, and I don’t smell like roses.”

  “I’m on my way!”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate you being able to help,” she told him and ended the call.

  Pax was completely out of breath when he jumped into Alana’s passenger seat and strapped the seat belt across his chest. The truck’s air-conditioning felt good on his sweaty body, but he sure would have preferred a dip in that cold creek where they’d spent the night before.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Daddy said that he was coming home from Tulia and got turned around.” Her voice cracked. “He was going to the vet’s for some calf medicine. I was out on the tractor when he called. I figured he’d driven over there and right back home, but he never made it.” She gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles were white. She sounded as if she would break into tears any minute.

  “Pull over and let me drive,” Pax said.

  She shook her head. “It’ll take too long.”

  “Hold one of your hands out.”

  “I can’t.” Those two words were tough for her to get out. “They’re shaking too bad. I need them both to drive.”

  “You need to let me drive, darlin’.” He kept his voice as steady as he could. “If you wreck and kill us, who’ll take care of Matt?”

  She braked so hard that she left skid marks on the pavement, hopped out of the truck, ran around the back side, and Pax met her coming t
he other way.

  “Need a hug?” he asked.

  “Maybe later.” She passed him without even slowing down.

  He got behind the wheel and sped down the dirt road. He didn’t slow down until he had to turn south on Highway 27. With her hands still trembling, Alana pulled out her phone and punched in a phone number.

  “This is Alana Carey. I’m Matthew Carey’s daughter.” She hit the speaker icon and laid the phone on the console between her and Pax.

  “This is Doctor Winslow. What can I do for you?”

  She explained the situation. “I read everything you sent home with him, plus I looked up everything I could find on the Internet. Nothing said anything about confusion or memory loss.”

  “That’s a side effect of the medicine I gave him, hopefully to slow down the growth of the tumor. Now you have a decision to make. Do you want him to live a little longer or have a clear mind for what time he has left? If you decide on the latter, then simply throw away the pills. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. The meds work for most of my patients, but about ten percent do have the side effects you described.”

  “If we decide to get rid of the pills, how long will it take him to get back to normal?” she asked.

  “About forty-eight hours,” the doctor answered.

  “Do we need to taper him off them?” she asked.

  “No, tell him not to take the one for tonight,” he answered. “Any more questions?”

  “That should do it. Thank you.” Alana ended the call and heaved a long sigh of relief. “I’ll talk to him, but I’d rather have all of him for less time than worry about him every time he walks out the door.”

  They found Matt on the north side of Plainview at the junction of Farm Road. He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck and waving at the cars that passed by. When Alana hopped out of the truck, he got down and slammed the tailgate shut. “What took you so long? I’ve been sitting here for hours.”

  “You all right? It’s pretty warm out today,” Pax asked.

  “Sweatin’ a little, but I’m used to that. I’m a rancher,” Matt told him.

  “Get in the truck, Daddy, and I’ll take you home.” Alana started around to the driver’s side of the truck.