Her Convenient Cowboy

by Lacy Williams

  She knew how important the herd was to him, how much he had invested in it. “I can take a load of hay.”

  “No,” he answered firmly. “They’ll be all right for another day or two.”

  She worked at keeping her breath as even as she could, trying to hide her disappointment. Even after she’d cared for him and his animals, Davy didn’t want her to help with the cattle. Maybe he thought she couldn’t complete the task, or maybe he thought she was scared.

  But she knew how important the animals were to him. And if there was a job that needed doing, she intended to do it. She would ask again in the morning.

  She needed to protect her heart, but how could she when her heart already belonged to Davy?

  * * *

  Davy stared into the darkness, wide-awake. His chest was still tight, but not on fire as it had been the past two days—except when he coughed.

  Rose had erected a wall between them, but he had no idea how to scale it. Was it because of the way he had left things the other morning?

  She had been worried, had asked him not to go. He knew now he shouldn’t have. But he’d been insistent, knowing that the baby would be coming soon, wanting to get things settled. He’d ignored the signs of his body being sick and he’d paid the price.

  He guessed it couldn’t hurt to apologize. “I’m sorry about the way we left things the other morning. I didn’t mean to be short with you.”

  “Oh,” she said, her voice timid and quiet in the darkness. “I’d almost forgotten about that in light of everything else.”

  It didn’t sound as though she was holding a grudge.

  “I just don’t want there to be anything between us,” he said. Not directly referencing the wall, the distance he could feel between them. “I want us to be friends.” He wanted so much more than that, but how could he ask that of her with everything that she’d already been through? With the baby almost here?

  He remembered Breanna’s words that he should share his heart with Rose. How could he tell her? What to say?

  “I made the mistake of not asking when it was my brother Ricky,” he said. “I didn’t even know that there was something wrong—well, that’s not completely true. I did know that something was eating at him, but he didn’t want to talk about it. He was on this cattle drive with Edgar in charge, and I guess they fought.”

  He took a deep breath, thankful when he didn’t cough again. “I wished he would have come back and talked to me. I would’ve done anything for him. But he just...left.”

  “I understand,” she said softly. Her hand closed around his fingers and he basked in the comfort she was giving.

  She didn’t say anything for long moments. And then...

  “I didn’t realize at the time—” her voice was small in the darkness “—that I do sort of feel that I was abandoned by my father, even though he didn’t leave, he died.”

  Davy lay perfectly still and quiet, barely daring to breathe. He didn’t want to interrupt her, not when she was finally opening up.

  “I was left on my own. I’d been sheltered so much by my stepmother that I didn’t know what to do. Jamie offered me something I’d never had before—my stepmother was so indifferent.

  “He was there. He was just...there,” she said, hesitating slightly over the word. “I had known him a little through Papa but not well. After Papa died, Jamie came around. He offered me comfort that I didn’t receive anywhere else. He told me this grand plan to take care of me. Maybe that’s...maybe that’s what made me fall for him.” Her voice hesitated slightly on the words. “But I didn’t really know him at all.”

  She was silent, and Davy took that to mean it was his time to talk. “I want us both to know each other. I want to know your heart—the good and the bad. The hurts.”

  There was a long silence.

  “But I’m worried you will find out something you don’t like about me,” she said.

  He sensed the sincerity and vulnerability of her statement, and he gave her an honest answer. “There may be things that you don’t like about me, but I can’t imagine that I would find any fault with you.”

  He coughed once but managed to suppress the worst of it.

  Then he went on. “Even if there was, we would get through it. I’d like to be the man you deserve—a man you can depend on.”

  There was another long pause, long enough that he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. But finally her voice came with a trace of tears. He wished he could see her in the darkness. “At the end I didn’t...I didn’t love him very much.”

  He realized she must still be talking about Jamie.

  “I don’t know if I ever really loved him,” she said as if she was ashamed.

  He shifted until he had his arm around her shoulders. “Honey, I can’t judge you for your past. You made decisions that you thought were right for you. Maybe he played with your emotions when you were grieving your father. You did what you had to survive, to get to this point. And all we can do is move forward from here.”

  She sniffled.

  He was afraid he’d said the wrong thing.

  “You need your sleep,” she whispered.

  His eyes had grown tired, and they both needed rest. But it was still a long time before he could fall asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Rose woke early the next morning, her head felt stuffy. Not like a cold, but from the silent tears she’d shed last night.

  Everything Davy said to her was perfect. The words were right.

  But she worried that his focus on providing for her and the baby would leave little space in his heart for her.

  Deep down, she didn’t trust herself. She was determined to fortify her heart. To think of the baby and the change that was getting ready to happen in their lives, and not about the man.

  She bustled around the cabin, first tidying up and then making scrambled eggs and toast. Davy was able to sit up in bed. He still coughed that awful cough and still had a low-grade fever.

  She planned to go out to the cattle today no matter if he argued with her or not. She knew she could do it.

  She toted in several armfuls of firewood so that he wouldn’t have to fetch any from outside if the fire burned low. When she came inside for the last time, she found him kneeling next to the bed.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as she dumped the wood into the wood box.

  “I rushed out of the house two days ago, and yesterday I was too sick to get out of bed.” His voice was muffled as his face was pressed against the straw tick. “So you didn’t get your gifts.”

  “More gifts?” The tremor in her voice gave away her shock. “Davy, you really shouldn’t have...”

  “Sure, I should.” He coughed once. “And I am.” He pushed up, using the bed for leverage as he stood to his full height.

  In his nightshirt and trousers, with his hair mussed from sleep, his cheeks still slightly flushed and two days’ worth of whiskers, he was adorable.

  Her hand crept to her pocket and touched the letter there. It felt like such a paltry offering in the face of his store-bought gifts. It felt even less valuable than it had the day before.

  He brought two brown paper-wrapped packages and deposited them on the table. She took it as a good sign that he felt able to stand up and move around, but then she saw the sweat beaded on his brow and his white-knuckled grip on the chair.

  “Why don’t you get back in bed?” she asked.

  His mouth tipped up on one side. “Yes, wife. Just as soon as you open the packages.”

  The first was the larger of the two, about the size of a loaf of bread. She untied the twine and unfolded the brown paper to find a white baby gown made of beautiful lace. It looked expensive.

  “You really shouldn’t have,” she said, keeping her fa
ce down toward the table. “After the things you’ve already bought...”

  “You let me worry about that.” His voice was a little rough when he spoke. “You deserve to be spoiled. That baby does, too, and I haven’t had anyone to spoil until now. I’ve been saving it up.”

  The other package was smaller than the palm of her hand and heavy. She unwrapped a beautiful pearl-inlaid brooch with gilt edges.

  “It’s lovely, just lovely. Thank you,” she whispered.

  Her face was hot, but she looked up at him anyway. “They are both lovely.” And she saw the white pallor beneath his flushed cheeks. “And you really should get back to bed.”

  His feet dragged against the plank floor as if he had already worn himself out. He bent over almost double as another cough caught him by surprise.

  She went to him, bringing more water that he accepted gratefully after he’d settled back in. “And you need to stay there,” she said.

  He’d said the cattle would need tending in the next day or so, and seeing him like this solidified that he wouldn’t be able to take out the cart. And it solidified her resolve to do it herself. The weather had warmed slightly. She’d noticed when she had been out to see to the horses and bring in the firewood.

  “I’m going out to see to the cattle today.”

  His head jerked in her direction so fast that it knocked softly against the post of the bed. Before he could try to talk her out of it, she rushed on.

  “You’ve invested all that money in them, spent weeks caring for them already.” She had no gift to give him, but she could do this. “If you want me to feel like a part of this family, you’ll let me do it.”

  He frowned.

  She buttoned her coat, tied the scarf around her neck and then slipped on her gloves.

  “Be careful. Take the pistol with you. Keep it in the cart,” he muttered with a mulish cast to his jaw. His arms were crossed over his chest like a child.

  Before she lost her nerve, she slipped the folded letter out of her pocket and pressed it into his hands.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “A gift,” she murmured, ducking her head.

  He snagged her hand before she could pull away. “You’re gift enough for me.”

  She blushed. “I’d better go.”

  She turned and slipped out the door.

  It was harder getting the horse hitched to the cart than she’d thought it would be. The cart was heavy and her fingers fumbled with the buckles, but she finally got everything latched.

  Pitching hay into the cart took longer than she’d thought; the pitchfork was unwieldy.

  She shivered in the cold wind as she hiked beside the horse through the drifted snow.

  She was determined to finish this task. She followed the narrow valley through the tree line and headed to the meadow where the sky opened up and the cattle were.

  This time she expected it when the cattle moved toward her and tried not to be afraid. She used the same pitchfork to throw the hay out in a circle around the wagon and the cows gratefully came and ate it.

  She felt a sense of accomplishment that she had done it. She had helped Davy.

  The joy lasted until she looked up on the mountainside and saw the gray back of the wolf against the backdrop of the snow, just as she had the other day.

  Fear punched through her. Her hand shook as she took the pistol out of the cart where she had stashed it. She was now glad that Davy had insisted that she bring it.

  Her right hand trembled and she placed her left hand underneath to steady herself as she aimed toward the animal. She thought the wolf was still too far away to hit but fired the gun anyway.

  She’d squeezed her eyes closed and by the time she’d pried them open it was too late to tell what had happened. The wolf was gone. Hopefully gone for good.

  She stood up in the back of the cart, carefully balancing as best she could. She counted the cattle, grateful that they all were accounted for and none was missing.

  It meant she wouldn’t have to stay out in the cold and try to find them.

  She and the horse slowly made their way back through the snow and the trees, following their footprints back to the cabin.

  She had never been so grateful to see the smoke curling up from the chimney. She unhitched the cart from the horse, fumbling with the buckles as her hands started hurting from the cold. She brought the horse inside the lean-to and rubbed it down.

  Finally, she rounded the house to go into the cabin.

  Davy met her at the door, still in his trousers and nightshirt, and with his boots on. His coat was laid over one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I heard the gunshot,” he said. “I was trying to come out to you but this is as far as I got.” His face was pale and his forehead was damp with sweat.

  “You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she said sternly. She went to the stove and held out her numb hands toward its heat.

  He gave her a sheepish smile. “I should’ve known you would be all right. What happened?”

  “Wolf sighting.”

  His forehead creased. “That’s the second time. It seems like either we’ve encroached on his territory or he’s hunting our cattle. I’ll have to do something about that after I feel a little bit better.”

  Her hands had thawed a bit. She pulled off her mittens and unwound the scarf from around her neck. She fumbled with the button of her coat until she finally got it unbuttoned.

  “Your cheeks are pink,” he said. “Are you sure you didn’t overdo it out there?”

  She knew he must be worried about the baby. “I’m all right. I’ll warm up in a minute.”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee, holding its warmth in her hands and breathing in its scent before she sipped it and sighed. “The cattle were all accounted for,” she said, a hint of pride tingeing her voice.

  “It’s not the cattle I’m worried about. I know you’re not used to the work.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll get used to it. I’m sure your mama helps out, right?”

  His eyes narrowed on her. “Sometimes. When we need her.”

  “So this city girl will learn. And I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “Speaking of my ma...”

  She looked up sharply as his voice trailed off with a hint of suggestion in it.

  “Christmas is tomorrow. If the weather is clear, they’ll be expecting us down at the homestead.”

  His eyes were locked on her face, so she schooled her features to show no emotion, but felt the pinch in her gut. She didn’t mind his boisterous, loud brothers or Sarah’s nosy pushing into her business, but she didn’t want to see Penny’s dismay that Rose and Davy had gone through with the marriage.

  But they were his family. She couldn’t say no.

  “If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go,” she said with as much calmness as she could muster.

  * * *

  Davy was much improved on Christmas morning when he and Rose rode down the mountain side by side, just the same way they’d ridden up. But traversing the familiar countryside of his pa’s ranch was not the same as when they’d made it the evening after their wedding.

  Things between them weren’t the same. Somehow, they’d gone from the quiet joy in those early hours of their marriage to this awful distance between them. Reading her letter had given him hope; her words had spoken of her growing feelings for him. But she remained quiet, introspective.

  And he couldn’t cross the distance, felt like he couldn’t reach her no matter how many times he’d tried in the past day. Whatever he’d said to her, she’d answered quietly, but had retained a pensive, almost sad air.

  He had one last hope to show her his heart.

  He’d saved the
most special gift that he’d spent hours in the lean-to last night perfecting for her Christmas gift. It was too big to travel on horseback so he’d have to give it to her in the morning, back at the cabin.

  She’d been knitting with the soft yarn in her free moments in the last couple of days, when she hadn’t been nursing him, and had set out the white gown for the baby on the sideboard where she’d gotten a stack of little diapers and several blankets folded.

  He could remember his ma doing all those homey things in the days before Walt, Ida and Andrew had come. Anticipation had made him antsy, thinking that Rose’s baby could be almost here.

  So he had gone about making some preparations of his own last evening, when he’d felt well enough to be up.

  “You feeling all right?” he asked now as they rode beneath some trees, in the last little sloped valley before they’d approach the barnyard.

  “My back aches a little,” she said, one gloved hand moving to her lower back.

  His shoulders tensed up. Was it because she’d been wielding the pitchfork to toss that hay when he’d been down with his illness?

  “Stop thinking that,” she told him quietly.

  “What?”

  “Stop thinking that putting the hay out for the cows is making my back ache. I’m to bear a babe shortly—everything hurts.”

  He pulled a face at her. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “Because you want to wrap me in swaddling clothes and protect me from everything.”

  He grew intensely serious as they crested the last hill. He drew up his horse in front of hers, forcing her to rein in. He showed her the intensity of his gaze. “Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I intend to do so for the rest of my life.”

  Her cheeks pinked, a beautiful flush rising.

  He turned their horses toward his pa’s home and led her down the hill to the barn. Amazingly everything was quiet. None of his brothers were in the barn or outbuildings, though he heard raucous laughter from inside the house. He helped Rose dismount, his hands firm at her waist.

  And when he’d set her feet on the dirt-packed floor, he left his hands on her waist. They stood so close that warm puffs of her breath hit his chin. He slowly rubbed tiny circles on her lower back with his fingertips.