A Cowgirl at Heart

by Christine Lynxwiler

  “Who wants to go for a walk?” She held up the leashes, and her three dogs ran to her and sat in a row. Pal woke and joined them, jumping and barking. Elyse gave Pal a couple of simple instructions and showed him what she expected. When he sat and waited patiently for her to put the leash on him, she stroked his head. “Good boy.”

  Outside, she considered turning toward the river. Mama had called yesterday afternoon when she was on her way to the 4-H meeting to tell her that Andrew was hooking his camper up at the barn. When she got home, Elyse had skipped the dogs’ evening walk so he wouldn’t think she was strolling by just to see him. Since he was finishing up some jobs on River Road, he surely wouldn’t be home in the middle of the day.

  She guided the dogs down the familiar path to her parents’ house. Just as she reached the camper, the door opened and he stepped out. She stopped, startled. Had he been watching from the window? He looked surprised to see her, so maybe it was just a coincidence.

  He grinned. “What perfect timing. I was about to come down to your house and see if I could call in that rain check from Monday.”

  “Are you on lunch break?”

  He ducked his head. “I had a hard time sleeping last night, so I’m getting a late start today. I only lack a few hours being done, so I thought that before I headed to work, I’d pick up the paint for the barn in town and satisfy this craving for Italian food. That is, if you have time and want to.” He nodded toward the dogs. “Are these your three?”

  “Yes.” She introduced the dogs one at a time, grateful for some time to process his invitation. “And of course you know Pal.” The yellow lab had been straining at the leash, wagging excitedly to get to Andrew.

  He reached and scratched his head. “Hey, Pal. How are you settling in? You’re looking better.”

  Elyse looked at the dog. His ribs weren’t standing out much at all. “He’s doing amazingly well.”

  “So? What do you say? Will you take pity on me and go eat pasta with me? I’ll take you by to see Maxine while we’re there.”

  “I have an appointment to groom a dog at three.”

  “I promise to have you back in plenty of time. I need to be painting by three anyway.”

  “In that case, let me go put the dogs in the house and I’ll be ready.” She looked down at her jeans and turquoise pullover. “Do you think I should change?”

  He shook his head. “You look beautiful.” His eyes widened as if he was as startled by his own words as she was. He glanced down at his own jeans. “I’m pretty sure this place allows jeans. If not, we’ll order takeout and go eat somewhere that does.”

  “Okay then. See you in a few minutes.” She headed back toward her house, a smile tilting her lips. She’d been worried about it looking as if she was seeking him out, but he’d had no trouble admitting he was about to come to her house to ask her to lunch. Plus, he’d called her beautiful. And she hadn’t even blushed. It didn’t get much better than that.

  ***

  Andrew pulled up in front of Elyse’s house, and she came right out. He didn’t know what to think. Melanie had always made him wait at least half an hour when they were dating. Not that he and Elyse were dating. He hastily corrected his thoughts. He’d asked her to go with him into town for two reasons: one, to keep her close in case Zeke showed up, and two, if Maxine was awake, she’d feel more comfortable if Elyse was there. And she’d be more likely to trust Andrew later if he came back alone to question her. The fact that Elyse was good company and he liked being around her was a distant third, if it rated at all.

  As she climbed into the passenger seat, Andrew was struck again by how beautiful she was. But this time he wisely kept it to himself.

  She buckled in carefully. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said a little formally.

  He nodded and backed up to turn around. “So how do you like living right in the middle of a cattle ranch?”

  She cleared her throat. “Considering I’m terrified of cows, it’s not so bad.”

  He gave a startled laugh and aimed the truck down the little lane. “So you’re not a cowgirl?”

  She shook her head. “Definitely not. Cowgirls are filled with courage and determination. That’s not me.”

  To his surprise, she sounded serious. He frowned. “You may not know this, but I saw you throw yourself at Zeke and his gun when he was going to shoot Pal.”

  Her cheeks turned a slight pink. “I lost my head.”

  “I thought it was a classic example of courage and determination.” He meant every word of it. He didn’t think he’d ever forget her fearlessness in the face of danger. “I’d say that makes you a cowgirl at heart.”

  She laughed. “That’s reaching, but okay. Between us, you can think I’m a cowgirl. But don’t try to convince anyone else.” She put her hand on her seat belt as they hit a big bump.

  “What else are you afraid of...?” His words drifted off as he caught sight of a little yellow truck at the end of the lane. “Have you ever seen that truck before?” he asked her, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.

  She leaned forward. “Nope. Looks like a Toyota, doesn’t it?”

  Just as they reached the end of the lane, the Toyota accelerated, spinning gravel all over Andrew’s truck.

  Andrew gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pressed down on the gas.

  CHAPTER 9

  The grassy hills flew by as Andrew concentrated on keeping up with the smaller truck.

  “What are you doing?” Elyse sounded as if she barely had enough air to get the words out.

  Her voice distracted him for a second, but not enough to slow him down. “Just trying to keep you safe,” he answered without looking at her, focusing on not losing sight of the yellow truck in the clouds of dust.

  The Toyota disappeared around the last bend before the main highway. When Andrew cleared the same curve, the truck was nowhere in sight. He pulled up to the stop sign at the highway. He slammed his palm on the steering wheel. “Which way do you think he went?”

  When Elyse didn’t answer, he looked over at her. Her head was pressed against the back of the seat, both of her hands were tightly gripping the shoulder strap of her seat belt, and her face was white.

  He jerked the truck into a turnaround at the edge of a field and killed the motor. “Elyse? Are you okay?”

  She forced her hands loose from the seat belt and relaxed her shoulders. “To answer your question ... about what else I’m afraid of...” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “That would be reckless driving.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He felt like an idiot.

  “That’s okay,” she said shakily. “With anyone else, I’d have hyperventilated.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “As a matter of fact, I think I need more oxygen to my brain right now.” She opened the truck door and jumped out.

  He got out and walked around to where she was leaning against the front fender. “I’m sorry,” he said again, hating himself for making her scared.

  She waved his apology away like a pesky fly. “You think that was Zeke?”

  He turned to look back at the empty highway. “I don’t know. I saw the same truck in the same place last night.”

  She stared at a patch of grass near her feet. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “I just kept watch.”

  She jerked her head up to look at him. “All night?”

  He shrugged. “Until the rooster crowed. Then I figured there was too much action for Zeke to show up.”

  She ran her hand over her face. “Boy, no wonder you’re getting a late start today.”

  “Yeah, I’m hoping that if your dad notices, he’ll blame it on artistic temperament.”

  She pushed off from the truck. “You’re an artist? Like you paint pictures?” She grimaced. “Or did I just put my foot in my mouth again and you consider house painting an art?”

  He smiled. “I guess house painting is an art. But yes, I paint ‘pictures,’ too.” His smile faded. “Or at
least I used to.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “That painting in your camper? Of the man breaking the horse? You did that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re amazing.”

  He couldn’t believe how good it felt to hear her say that. Inside a little locked box in his heart, something pounded against the door, trying to get out. “Painting houses and barns pays more.”

  She shook her head. “Not with that kind of talent, not for long.”

  “I gave up on the starving artist life several years ago.” Three years ago, to be exact. “For now, I’ll stick to what pays.”

  “You don’t paint anymore at all?”

  His throat tightened at the sadness he heard in her voice. “Now and then. I have a few paints left, but when these run out, I doubt I’ll buy any more.” He’d actually promised himself he wouldn’t. Some dreams were too silly to keep pursuing.

  “I think that’s a mistake. We have a really great art supply place in town.”

  He motioned to the truck. “If I promise to drive at little old lady speed the rest of the day, will you ride into town with me?” He opened her door for her and helped her in, then walked around to get in the driver’s side.

  “Little old lady speed, now, don’t forget,” she said solemnly. “You promised.”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he teased. “My grandma was in the Indy 500.”

  “Yeah, right.” She pulled her seat belt snug. “That had better be a joke.”

  ***

  In spite of the rocky start, Elyse couldn’t remember when she’d had a better day. They’d eaten their pasta at an outdoor table under a large umbrella. Even the paint store had been fun. The only sad part had been finding out that Maxine still wasn’t awake.

  Andrew got Elyse back home by two o’clock, even going a sedate speed several miles per hour below the limit. He jumped out and ran around to open her truck door for her.

  “You’re going to spoil me.” She stepped down next to him.

  “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re probably the most unspoiled person I’ve ever met.” His eyes were warm.

  “Maybe you just don’t know me.”

  He shrugged. “I guess that’s a possibility. But I think I have a pretty clear picture of who you are.”

  As they slowly strolled up to her walkway, she considered his words. If he had a clear picture of who she really was, he probably wouldn’t be nearly as interested in spending time with her. But at least he seemed to like who she wanted to be.

  At her door, he turned to her and leaned forward.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs.

  He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’d better go get this paint unloaded at the barn so I can go to work.”

  “Thanks.”

  He grinned. “See you later.”

  After he drove off down the path to the barn, she slapped herself lightly. “Thanks? For what?” She slid her hand over her eyes. “Kissing me on the cheek? Taking the paint to the barn? He probably thinks I’m crazy.”

  She gave up on figuring herself out and hurried into the house. All in all, it had still been a wonderful day.

  ***

  This had to be some kind of record for the worst week ever. Kaleigh slipped into a chair at a back library table. She reached to the middle of the table and pulled a big book toward her. No one would disturb her if she was studying. Or reading—she flipped the book over to look at the title—Homer’s Odyssey for pleasure. She slipped a tiny piece of paper out of her binder and focused on the little list. The goal for this week was circled. Look Totally Different.

  The rest of the week she’d worn her hair up, but since this was the last day of the week, in a last-ditch effort to salvage her plan, she’d straightened it and worn it down. Not a feat for most people, but Kaleigh’s hair was a mess of long, disorderly red curls that she knew gave the false impression she was wild and impulsive. Today, thanks to an hour of work with her CHI flatiron, the red strands lay sleek and shiny down her back.

  In honor of the new her, she’d worn her most sedate black pants and a green and black top. To tone down the top, she’d borrowed a black sweater and a short string of pearls from her roommate. She’d forgone her lace-up-to-the-knee black Converse heels and gone with some black pumps with short heels instead. Her feet were killing her, but she looked every inch the sophisticated, calm, intelligent woman she knew she could be.

  Several of her female teachers had complimented her on how great she looked. Even some of her classmates had mentioned it. But they were all girls. Not one guy, cute or otherwise, had even glanced at her. Her last class started in an hour, and she was hiding in the library, trying to regroup. So much for week one.

  She heard footsteps behind her. She flipped a page in the big book and slid the list into her binder without looking. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, but right now the last thing she wanted was to make conversation. Or hear another girl say how much she liked her hair.

  “Did you know that many people think Homer wasn’t the sole author of the Odyssey?” A deep voice behind her made her jump.

  She turned to look at the speaker. She recognized him immediately. Carlton Weatherford III—or was it IV? Either way, his family was one of those that everyone on campus knew. But between his academic achievements and his football prowess, he was a star in his own right. And even though they’d attended the same university for three, going on four, years and he was in many of her classes, he’d never spoken to her until today.

  His hazel eyes studied her. He had really long lashes.

  She realized she hadn’t answered him. “I’ve heard that.” Probably in the same class he had.

  “Most people don’t realize that.” He motioned to the chair next to her. “May I?”

  She nodded.

  He sat beside her and tilted his head. “Now you’re...?” His eyebrows drew together as if he was trying to place her.

  “Kaleigh McCord. We’re in a couple of classes together.”

  He nodded but still looked puzzled. “Nice to meet you.”

  Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at the fact that he hadn’t bothered to give her his name. But outwardly, the new and improved Kaleigh just smiled sweetly. When Carlton asked her if she wanted to go get coffee after their next class, she happily agreed.

  Week one of Operation New Me was definitely a success.

  ***

  Crystal looked across the church building at Jeremy.

  Beka, next to him, turned around with her chin on the top of the pew and gave her a sad little wave.

  Crystal smiled and waved at the little girl, but inside she was fuming. She couldn’t believe he’d actually sit somewhere else. She glanced down at the ring on her finger. Last time she checked, they were still engaged.

  Her Bible with its worn cover caught her eye, and she picked it up. She’d struggled too hard to get her relationship with God back in order. She wasn’t going to let the hardheaded man in front of her distract her from worship. There’d be plenty of time after to deal with this craziness.

  When the last amen was said, her thoughts went directly back to Jeremy. She didn’t know whether to try again to talk to him or just let time pass. His mom and dad were two rows back from her, and she was ashamed to admit she felt like avoiding them. But when she turned around, Mrs. Buchanan was waiting for her.

  “Hi, Crys.” The older woman hugged her. “We missed you last Sunday at lunch.”

  To Crystal’s humiliation, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked hard. “All my family was in. So I...” She looked away.

  “I understand.” Mrs. Buchanan squeezed her hand. “Is everything okay?”

  Crystal pursed her lips and nodded. “I’m sure it will be.” Please let it be, she prayed silently. She wanted to question Jeremy’s mom, but if she and Jeremy had a communication problem that was that bad, they had no business getting married.

  “I am, too.”

  She jerke
d her attention back to Mrs. Buchanan. In her eyes, she saw a calm assurance. “We’re looking forward to the wedding, dear. And to having you as part of our family.”

  “Thanks. Me, too.” She saw Jeremy almost to the back door. “I’m sorry, but I need to speak to Jeremy.” She caught him just as he got outside. “Jeremy.”

  He turned, and when he saw her, his eyes lit up just like always. But just as quickly as it came, the fire was extinguished from the inside. Consciously. This made no sense. “Hi.”