My One and Only Cowboy

by A. J. Pine

  Sam reached a hand for the cat, and he hissed, swatting at Sam with claws out. He pulled his hand back just in time to not get Freddy Kruegered.

  “Hey,” Delaney said, stern but gentle. She laid a hand over his extended paw. “He’s a friend.” Then she looked up at Sam. “Hold your hand like this first, knuckles out, and let him sniff. Once he realizes you’re not a threat, he’ll let you pet him.”

  Kittens rubbed at his ankles. One nibbled his toes. They loved him. Yet here he was trying to win over the one feline in the room who wanted to tear his face off.

  “Only for you, Vegas,” he said, and then he held out the back of his hand for Butch to either sniff or rip to smithereens. He hoped for the former. He might have been squeezing his eyes shut to avoid witnessing the carnage, should carnage ensue.

  Delaney snorted. “You have a pit bull out roaming your yard, and you’re scared of a little cat?”

  His eyes flew open to find Butch sniffing but not scratching. “Hey,” he said. “Pit bulls get a bad rap, but Scout’s a sweetheart and you know it. This guy right here—”

  The rest of his words failed him as Butch licked his knuckles with his sandpaper tongue and then proceeded to rub his head beneath Sam’s open palm.

  “Ha!” he said. “Did you see that? He likes me!”

  The next thing he knew, Butch was crawling off Delaney’s lap and onto his.

  “Huh,” Trudy finally said. “He usually takes to women much better. Part of the reason I haven’t been able to adopt him out is that he scratches the heck out of any man that gets near him. I guess he sees something in you, Sam.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes at Trudy. “You could have told me that before I marched into battle unarmed.”

  Both women laughed.

  “Maybe Trudy saw something in you, too, and knew you were safe.”

  Trudy patted Delaney on the knee. “Nice save, honey. I appreciate it.” She looked at Sam. “I brought the kittens over so Delaney could see we’ve got animals in town already who could use a place of rescue, but it looks like I might be here to see if you’re interested in adopting a three-legged cat.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “Me?”

  Delaney gasped. “You’d give him up?”

  “I don’t know anything about cats,” Sam said.

  “It’d be hard to say good-bye,” Trudy admitted. “But I think he’s been waiting for you two.”

  Sam’s chest tightened. They’d known each other four days. He hoped he and Delaney had a future, but adopting a pet together was permanent. And permanent still scared the pants off him.

  “I’m going to let Sam off the hook,” Delaney said, laughing. “We’re—I mean, things are very new. But if everything works out the way I hope it does, I’ll have a home here in Meadow Valley with plenty of room for a furry friend or two.”

  Sam blew out a breath. “You’re not mad?” he asked. “He could stay here until you get situated.” Then he smiled. “And you could visit.”

  Trudy cleared her throat, then rose to her knees. “Okay, I’m going to collect the little critters. And this thing with Butch can be a trial run. If things don’t pan out like they’re supposed to, he’s always got a place in town with me.”

  Butch scampered out of Sam’s lap and chased after one of those critters.

  “Wow,” he said. “You’d never know anything was different about him from the way he gets around.”

  Trudy took off after him, pet carriers in hand.

  Delaney leaned over and kissed Sam on the cheek. “Different doesn’t necessarily mean broken. It just means learning to cope.”

  Then she got up and followed Trudy around the room, helping her wrangle the kittens.

  Learning to cope, huh? Did that mean she’d be willing to cope with his uncertain future? Or was she trying to tell him to do exactly that? Either way, he’d never considered the possibility that someone might want a future with him even after knowing the risk. But after only a few days with Delaney Harper in town, he was starting to see everything through a different lens.

  That night, they lay in bed, his body spooning hers—Scout sprawled across their feet and Butch curled up on Sam’s pillow above his head.

  “How in the world did you do it?” he asked softly, his lips a breath away from her ear.

  She pulled his arms tighter around her. “Do what?” she asked sleepily. “And your cat’s purring too loud. Tell him I’m sleepy.”

  Sam chuckled. “He’s your cat.”

  “Do what?” she asked again, tired but insistent.

  “Turn my world upside down and make me see it all differently.”

  “I am pretty special.” She sighed dreamily as he chuckled. “Dare you not to fall in love with me, cowboy.”

  He felt her stomach constrict. He couldn’t see her face, but she was holding her breath.

  “I don’t want to take that dare,” he admitted after a long pause.

  She rolled over to face him and pressed her palms to his cheeks, her eyes shining with what he hoped were happy tears.

  “Good,” she said. “I didn’t want you to.”

  Then she kissed him. Or maybe he kissed her. It didn’t matter who started it—only that they stayed this way until sleep finally came—despite the blissfully loud, three-legged cat who saw something in him, perched above their heads.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delaney stood in between Sam and Nolan Callahan—the two men bookending a perfect week. Okay, maybe it started off a little rocky with Delaney and Sam in a bit of a land war. Then there was Sam’s wasp sting, the right hook to his nose, and almost watching him get mauled by a cat—a cat she knew he now loved. But now here they all were, at the festival’s closing, where the auction winners would be revealed and then the fireworks display would start.

  She still hadn’t heard back from Wade, but it didn’t matter. Millie was fixed. Tomorrow the courthouse would open. And she’d get her insurance that would either bring Wade out of the woodwork or take him to court. It was out of her hands for one more night, and she wasn’t going to let it get to her.

  She glanced up at Sam, and the corner of his mouth turned up before returning her gaze, as though he sensed she was looking at him.

  Butch Catsidy wasn’t the only one head over heels for the guy.

  “What?” he asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

  She shook her head. “I just like looking at you.”

  He laughed. “Right back at ya, Vegas.”

  “How you doing, Dad?” Sam called over Delaney’s head.

  The older man crossed his arms. “Good. Good. Though I can smell that grilled corn from that stand over there.” He pointed to the vendor. “It’s driving me crazy. Making my stomach growl.”

  Sam shook his head ruefully. “Are you really still hungry?”

  Nolan shrugged. “I don’t get out much. Gotta live it up while I can.”

  Sam’s smile faltered, but only for a second. Sam had taken a chance on bringing Nolan back to the festival, and the day had been another success. But when Nolan made his little self-deprecating jokes about the disease, it likely reminded Sam that they were on borrowed time for days like this.

  “I can see the stand from here,” Sam said. “Why don’t you go grab some.”

  Nolan’s brows rose. “An unchaperoned trip to the grilled corn stand? Son, how can I ever thank you?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Go already, Dad. Before I change my mind.”

  Nolan bounced on his heels and then strode toward the food stand.

  Delaney threaded her fingers through his.

  “He’s going to remember this week,” she said. “Maybe not always, but it’ll be there, popping up every now and then to make him smile. You did that. You and your brother.”

  Sam’s brow furrowed. “Have you seen Ben lately?”

  Delaney laughed nervously. “He and Charlotte—Pearl’s granddaughter? They were sort of bobbing for apples when I ran to get a cider.”


  Sam narrowed his gaze. “Does ‘bobbing for apples’ mean ‘bobbing for apples,’ or is that a euphemism?”

  She winced. “They were making out on the side of the apple bobbing booth. I pretended not to see them, but they were really hard not to see.”

  “Can you all hear me?” a female voice asked over a loudspeaker, and Delaney was momentarily saved from having to rat on Ben and Charlotte any more than necessary.

  There was a small platform at the bottom of the grassy hill, and on it stood Ivy and Carter.

  “I can hear you,” Carter said into the mic. “Isn’t that that all that matters?”

  Ivy laughed. “That depends. Hearing is one thing. Listening to what I say is another.”

  “For the last time,” Carter said. “You did not ask me to pick up a carton of eggs. My mind is a steel trap, and that request was not trapped in there.”

  There was playful exasperation in his tone, and Delaney could tell this was an act for the crowd, but she also guessed there was some truth to it.

  Ivy swatted Carter on the shoulder. “You are so lucky I love you,” she said.

  “Luckiest man in the world.”

  A ripple of laughter and aws emanated from the growing crowd settling on the hill. Delaney uttered one of the aws.

  “I hope that’s us one day,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Huh?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing,” she told him. “I think this is it. You ready to see who’s the proud recipient of an all-expenses-paid stay at a guest ranch?”

  Sam answered by squeezing her hand.

  First they announced the winner of a book basket from Trudy’s bookstore. After that came a night of free drinks and appetizers at the Midtown Tavern. A young couple and their twin six-year-old boys won an exclusive tour of the firehouse and the station’s main engine.

  “And now for our final and top bidder of the evening, the winner of the weekend stay at Meadow Valley Ranch, generously donated by our very own Sam Callahan, Ben Callahan, and Colt Morgan, the strapping young lads who own and run Meadow Valley Ranch. Excursions included and no blackout dates. And our highest bidder, donating one thousand dollars to the Meadow Valley Firehouse, is—oh yay!—Charlotte North! Thanks, Charlotte! Please make sure you stop by the fire station either after the fireworks or sometime tomorrow to claim your certificate for a weekend stay at Meadow Valley Ranch.”

  “And to drop off your generous donation,” Carter said with a chuckle. “The Meadow Valley Firehouse and all the Meadow Valley residents thank you for your kindness and generosity.”

  Delaney giggled. “Guess she and your brother got more done today than just making out. That was actually really sweet of her. I’m sorry it couldn’t have been me who made the bid.”

  “Are you kidding?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re the reason we’re in that auction to begin with. None of this would have happened without you.”

  Over her shoulder, she saw Ben Callahan approaching.

  “Hey, Ben,” she said, and Sam released her from his embrace.

  He nodded toward his younger brother. “You have something to do with Pearl’s granddaughter making that donation?”

  Ben gave his brother a self-satisfied grin. “It’s not my problem if a week with me isn’t enough. She’s heading off to New York tomorrow, but she’ll be back at some point. What better place to stay than a guest ranch run by yours truly?”

  Sam groaned, and Delaney laughed.

  “Hey,” Ben said. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Corn,” was Sam’s only response. But all their heads turned toward the stand, and Delaney’s heart sank.

  “Where the hell is he?” Sam asked.

  “You lost him?” Ben asked, his voice tinged with anger.

  “He was right there. I turned my back for one second and…” He started pacing. Delaney reached for his shoulder. “Sam. I’m sorry. What do we need to—”

  “Not now, Delaney. Sorry isn’t going to fix this. I need to think.” He ran his hands through his hair. “We need to find him before he hurts himself—or someone else.”

  Delaney flinched. She knew he hadn’t meant to sound cruel, that he was scared, but his snapping at her still stung.

  “What do you need me to do?” Ben asked.

  “Comb the area and find him before it gets dark. If we don’t find him before the fireworks start, he’ll never hear us. He could be miles away by the time we catch up to him.”

  Sam stalked off in one direction without giving Delaney or Ben another glance. Ben spun and strode off the other way. And she was left there, mouth agape, not knowing what to do.

  Sam had gone in the direction of the woods and Ben toward the food and game booths from where he’d come, so Delaney headed toward First Street in the heart of town, where the shop owners were closing down their booths as night began to fall over Meadow Valley.

  “Excuse me,” she said, approaching a middle-aged woman who was cleaning up her merchandise from her table in front of a craft and gift shop. “Have you seen a man—in his late fifties—good-looking, salt-and-pepper hair, a T-shirt and jeans? He might be lost.”

  The woman tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear and shook her head. “Sorry, sweetheart. But if you find him, feel free to send him my way. You had me at ‘good-looking’ and ‘salt-and-pepper.’”

  Delaney forced a smile. She wasn’t expecting this to be easy, but she was crossing her fingers for some sort of miracle anyway. “Thanks,” she said as she moved on to the next booth, a young man and woman in front of a bookshop called Storyland.

  “Hi,” she said. “Sorry to bother you right before the fireworks—wait, is this Trudy’s shop? Anyway, have you seen a man wandering by himself, late fifties, probably looking a little lost?”

  The guy scratched his head. “I don’t think so. And yes. This is Trudy’s shop. She’s the boss. We just do the dirty work.”

  Then the young woman’s eyes brightened. “What about that guy who asked us if we’d seen his Barbara Ann? Said he’d just gotten back from a business trip and was looking for whoever his Barbara Ann was.”

  “Oh yeah,” the man said. “We didn’t recognize him, and we don’t know a Barbara Ann in town, so we thought maybe she was staying at Pearl’s inn.”

  Delaney’s heart sped up. “Barbara Ann?” That was the name of the horse she’d ridden with Sam. Was Nolan Callahan looking for the horse? Or was the horse named for someone he cared about, like his ex-wife?

  Both strangers nodded.

  “Thank you!” Delaney said, hope creeping in. If Nolan was at the inn, he was safe. Everything would be fine.

  She heard a faint whistle in the air, then realized the sky had gone from dusk to dark without her even noticing. Seconds later the sky lit up with pink sparks that crackled and fizzled before fading into the black, followed by a heart-stopping bang.

  Delaney sprinted up the steps of the inn’s front porch.

  Pearl stood there as if she’d been waiting for Delaney, and gestured her inside. “You looking for Sam’s father?”

  Delaney nodded.

  “He’s in the common room,” the older woman said. “I called Sam and Ben, but both went to voicemail. They must be out of range. Nolan’s standing on a chair, waving a cob of corn on a stick, and telling anyone who even looks at him that they better find his Barbara Ann. I tried to help him down, and he kicked my hand away.” She shook out her right hand, which thankfully didn’t look any worse for wear. “I don’t suppose you know who Barbara Ann is other than an old Beach Boys tune.”

  “I think I might,” Delaney said. “But that doesn’t mean he’s going to know who I am. Or that he’ll listen to anything I have to say.”

  Pearl held the door open as Delaney stepped through. “Until Sam or Ben gets here, you’re our best shot.”

  Delaney swallowed. Since she knew the restaurant was to the left, she looked toward the right. She heard him before she saw him, much like the morning when she’d m
et him.

  “Where is she?” he snarled. “Where the hell is my Barbara Ann?”

  She hoped—like it had worked with Sam—that if Nolan saw a familiar face, it might bring him back into the moment. She wasn’t sure, though, how familiar she’d be, having only met the man three times. She crossed her fingers that having spent two full days together had given her a fighting chance.

  She knew dogs. And cats. Intuition for what they needed was a no-brainer. But this was a human she was dealing with now—a human with a disease that was attacking his brain, which meant even the most rational approach might go awry.

  She crept toward the open entryway to the common room. It was empty except for what looked like a couple of inn staff who’d stayed behind while most everyone else was probably out watching the fireworks. The two young men circled the chair Nolan stood on as if they were coordinating an assault. No wonder he was brandishing his corn on a stick.

  “Hey!” Delaney said, shooing them away. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not helping.”

  She stepped in front of one of the men and looked imploringly up at Sam’s father.

  “Mr. Callahan?” She took a step forward, and he flinched, his chair wobbling.

  Shoot. What good was finding Sam’s father if she caused him to fall off his chair and injure himself? She guessed she’d be two for three with the Callahan men then, one with an almost broken nose and another probably with something worse. All she had to do was find a way to cause Ben bodily harm, and she’d pull off quite the hat trick.

  His brows knit together. “How do you know my name? And where is Barbara Ann?”

  Delaney backed up, pulled a chair out from another table, and sat down. She held her hands up indicating she wasn’t on the offensive.

  “I’m a friend of your son’s,” she said. “A friend of Sam’s. Are you talking about Barbara Ann, Sam’s horse?”

  Nolan Callahan scoffed. “My son doesn’t have his own horse, you idiot. He learned to ride on the ones we board. Barbara Ann is my wife, and someone better tell me where the hell she is right now.”