Cowboy Fever

by Joanne Kennedy

  Flat. Flat belly. She couldn’t be pregnant—could she?

  But he’d overheard Darla Black telling someone Jodi had checked out some prenatal vitamins at the Rexall. Maybe it was just too soon for her to show.

  “Teague?” Jodi was cocking her head and smiling at him. “Earth to Teague.”

  “Sorry,” he said. Dang. How long had he been sitting there staring at her? Gaping like an idiot, with his mouth hanging open, probably.

  What the hell had they been talking about?

  The riding clinic. Her new business.

  “So,” he said, forcing his mind back to the outside world. “You teach your patients to ride?”

  “Not patients. Clients. They’re not sick; they’re challenged. And what I teach them depends on their needs. Sometimes they just do exercises on the horse. It helps them learn new skills, teaches them to focus, and gives them a feeling of empowerment,” Jodi said.

  “Yeah.” Teague looked away as she moved down to the next rung of the ladder and her eyes met his. “I guess it would be nice for them to get the chance to go riding.”

  “It’s not just a treat,” Jodi said, giving the rung a vigorous rubdown. “It really is therapy. There are various exercises we do, depending on the client’s needs. Some of them are physical, like riding with no hands. Others are more cognitive—like games where they guide their horse to a certain number hung on the corral fence.”

  “You’re going to use Eightball for this?”

  “I hope so.” Jodi moved down another rung and repeated the polishing process. “I’m not sure he’ll be calm enough. I’d really like to use Vegas.”

  “But he’s blind.”

  “I know.” Jodi draped the rags over the rung she was working on and sat down beside him, brushing his arm with one elbow. Teague felt an electric jolt bounce from his arm to his solar plexus and ricochet down to the danger zone.

  “But we lead the horses when the kids ride them,” Jodi continued. She seemed oblivious to the effect she had on him. Didn’t she remember what had happened the other day? How could she be so casual about it?

  “You know I’d take good care of Vegas,” she said. “You said he was depressed. This would help.”

  “Maybe. But if he’s in a strange place, he won’t be able to find his way around.”

  “We’ll get him accustomed to it. That would be a good job for Troy. He could lead him around—teach him where things are. It would give Troy a chance to be the teacher for a change.”

  “Yeah,” Teague said. “That might be good.”

  “And having a job might liven Vegas up a little bit. Maybe he needs some change in his life.”

  “Maybe he does,” Teague said. He was still struggling with the nearness of her, acutely conscious of the fact that they were sitting on a bed, that he could just reach out for her, push her back onto the mattress. He glanced sideways out the window so she couldn’t see his eyes and read his thoughts.

  Vegas wasn’t the only one who needed some change in his life. Teague needed to find some outlet for these feelings—someone who didn’t matter quite so much. Someone who could help him get over Jodi Brand and move on.

  Trouble was, the only candidate applying for the job was Courtney Skelton, and he wasn’t interested in what she had to offer. She was persistent, but it would never amount to anything. If Courtney’s dad found out his daughter was hanging with a ragtag cowboy who raised bucking horses and was just as ornery as his livestock, he’d probably lock the girl up.

  For once, Teague’s bad reputation would do him good.

  Jodi settled back on the bed, resting on her elbows.

  “So,” she said. “Can we do it?”

  Wow. That was blunt. He knew she’d taken their earlier liaison pretty casually, but this definitely wasn’t the Jodi he knew. He scanned her face to see if she meant what he thought she did, but his eyes skittered down to take a quick tour of her body from head to toe. He wanted to “do it,” that was for sure. But he wanted “it” to mean something.

  For him, this was anything but casual.

  She laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “Bring Vegas over here, I mean.”

  “Oh.” He tried not to sound disappointed. “Sure. I guess.”

  She shifted a little closer to him. ‘What did you think I meant?” she asked teasingly.

  “I thought…” He reached one hand up to stroke back a strand of hair that had swung down to dangle in her face. “I thought you meant… I don’t know.”

  “I do.” She reached up and readjusted the hair he’d moved. “It’s not too hard to read your mind, Teague.”

  “No?” He reached up and stroked her hair again.

  “No. You might have nicer clothes now, but you haven’t changed much. But we can’t… I’m not…”

  Her voice trailed off as his hand drifted down and caressed the side of her neck, and suddenly he was bending over her, knotting his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, and kissing her like his life depended on it.

  She parted her lips and pressed her breasts into his chest, flinging an arm around his neck and returning his kiss with a passion that was anything but casual. He felt himself growing hard against her as his kiss deepened and his hand wandered down to cup her breast. His thumb scraped over her nipple and he felt it peak under his touch, but he’d gone too far too fast. She jerked away from him and turned away.

  “Teague, wait.”

  He could barely interpret the words. Wait? For what?

  Why?

  He pulled her back against his chest.

  “Jodi, let it happen,” he murmured into her hair. “You know you want this too.”

  “I—I can’t.” She stiffened and shoved him away. “Dang it, I promised my mom.”

  She clapped one hand over her mouth as if she wished she hadn’t spoken. The pounding of his heart slowed, burning-hot anger taking the place of passion.

  “Your mom? What did you promise her?”

  “That I wouldn’t… you know.”

  “That you wouldn’t get mixed up with that trailer trash Treadwell boy?”

  “Teague, I’m trying to make things right between us—between me and her, I mean. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

  “What about making things right between you and me?”

  She looked away. “I don’t know what right is when it comes to you and me, Teague. Hell, I’ve never known, and that’s not entirely my fault.” Her tone softened. “My mother’s important to me, Teague. I won’t feel whole ’til I fix it.”

  “And I won’t feel whole ’til—never mind.” He turned and pretended to be engrossed in the view from the window. “Forget it.”

  “Family comes first, okay? I can’t sleep at night thinking about what I did to her. She lost her husband, and then she lost me too, right at the time she needed me most. I’m going to make it up to her, and I can’t do that while I’m carrying on with you.”

  He leaned back on his elbows and tugged his hat down low to hide his eyes.

  “Carrying on? Is that what that was?”

  She shrugged.

  He tilted his head up to peer up at her from under his hat brim. “Why does she hate me so much, anyway?”

  Jodi flailed her hands helplessly. “She has her reasons, okay? It would worry her. And that’s the last thing I want to do right now.”

  “Okay.” He narrowed his eyes. “So tell me the reasons. Maybe I can do something to change her mind.”

  She wrung her hands and looked so distressed he knew this wasn’t anything he could fix.

  “It’s not really about you. It’s about your father. She—she thinks that kind of thing runs in families, like with Cal.” She held up a hand to stop his response. “I know you’re not like that, but you asked for her reason, and that’s it. And given Cissy’s situation, it�
��s a hard one to argue with.”

  He stared down at the floor again, thinking. About the past, and how it haunted his present and shadowed his future.

  “You know, you don’t owe her anything,” he said. “You did all that rodeo queen crap for her. You were the perfect daughter, and I know you hated that stuff.” He raked his hands over his hair. “When are you going to start living your own life?”

  She hunched her shoulders, refusing to meet his eyes. “Now,” she said. “I’m living it now.”

  “No you’re not. You’re still trying to please everybody but yourself.” In an exaggerated gesture, he raised an admonishing finger and lowered his brows. “You’d better settle down in the suburbs and have two-point-five kids, or everybody’ll be disappointed. And don’t do it with that Teague Treadwell. He’s not worthy.” He lurched to his feet. “To hell with it, anyway. I’m never getting married. Never having kids. That’s for other people.”

  He spun and stalked past the two narrow stalls. “I guess your mom figured that out.”

  ***

  “Hey,” said a voice from outside the trailer. “What’re you guys doing?”

  “Nothing.” Teague slumped against the wall and ran a hand over his face as if he could erase his anger with one swipe. “Just talking.”

  Jodi sprang from the bed and picked up her polishing rag just as Troy passed through the stall area and stood in the doorway of the tiny bedroom. “I got all the way to the tree line,” he said, waving his pliers like a warrior’s sword. “I bet I can finish the job next time I come.”

  “Good,” she said. “We’ll finish it tomorrow. I’ll help.”

  “Not tomorrow,” Troy said. “I’m busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I got another job,” Troy said.

  Jodi turned to look at him, startled. “Troy, are you quitting on me?”

  “No. It’s mostly going to be real early in the mornings, so I can still work for you after. But tomorrow I have training all day.” He puffed out his chest. “I’ll be making a lot of money.”

  “Who are you going to be working for?” Jodi was careful to keep the surprise out of her voice. Of course someone else had hired Troy. He was a good worker, and loyal. Or at least, he used to be loyal.

  “Mr. Skelton,” he said. “He called last night.”

  “What?” Teague looked shocked. “You’re working for Skelton?”

  Troy nodded so enthusiastically Jodi was afraid he’d jar his brain loose. “He says I’m just the man he needs to take care of his horses. I won’t be able to tell you much about it, though. Mr. Skelton said his operation is strictly confifluential.”

  “Yeah, I know. Everything that guy does is top secret.” Teague turned to Jodi. “He keeps the horses locked up, trains in an indoor arena—it’s crazy.” He looked at Troy. “Did he tell you why it’s confidential?”

  “Because we can’t let the competition see what we’re doing.” He winked, contorting one half of his face. “When we talk about secret stuff, Mr. Skelton winks. Like this.” He winked again.

  “What the hell.” Teague’s brows lowered, and his eyes took on the same hard, angry look he’d worn when she talked about her mother. Jodi remembered that expression from high school. Teague against the world, she thought. It was a non-stop battle.

  “It’s no big deal,” she said. “He just doesn’t want Troy to talk about how they train the horses.” She shoved back the worries poking at the back of her brain. Skelton was apparently embroiled in some kind of cloak-and-dagger routine with his horses. It made her uncomfortable.

  Teague stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders to keep his head from hitting the low ceiling.

  “We’d better go, Troy,” he said. “Start dinner.”

  She followed the two men down the steps and across the yard, Luna trotting in circles around them. Teague didn’t look at Jodi or the dog until he’d hoisted Troy’s bike into the bed of the pickup and opened the door to the truck cab.

  “Well,” he said. “See you.”

  He turned away and climbed into the truck, his Wranglers tightening over his trim behind, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he grabbed the steering wheel and climbed into the high seat. Jodi watched his profile as he started the engine. He looked more hurt than angry, and her heart went out to him. He got under her skin like no other man ever had. She’d never met a man who gave off sparks like Teague did—but she didn’t need that distraction right now. Right now, she was going to mend what little family she had left.

  “Come on, Luna.” Teague leaned from the window and gestured toward the tailgate. “Hop up.”

  The dog stood by Jodi’s side, staring at Teague like she’d never seen him before.

  “She wants to stay with Jodi,” Troy said. “She wants to visit longer.”

  Teague glared down at the dog.

  “It’s okay,” Jodi said, bending down to stroke Luna’s head. “Let her stay. I’ll send her back with Troy tomorrow. Or you can pick her up later.”

  “You sure?” His eyes still had that hard, angry look. “I thought you promised your mother you’d stay away from me.”

  “I can talk to you.”

  “Well, hallelujah.”

  “Teague, we can be friends.”

  “You know, I don’t really think so,” he said. “I don’t see how that could work.”

  He cranked the engine to life, hanging onto the key a little too long so the truck made an awful grating noise. Then he spun out, the pickup spitting gravel as it careened down the driveway.

  Chapter 14

  Jodi shoved her chair back from the tiny desk in her mother’s cramped back room and clicked “shut down.” As the computer screen went dark, she rubbed her knuckles in her bleary eyes. She’d rather shovel out twenty horse stalls than spend another minute crouched over the computer.

  “The PayPal link works,” she told her mother. “Now I just need to take some pictures of the merchandise and post them, and you’ll be up and running.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll model.” Peggy Brand did a quick happy-dance in the doorway to the back room. She was wearing a vest dripping with beaded fringe, so her dance was accompanied by a click-clacking backbeat. “Then we’ll just wait for the money to roll in.”

  “Right,” Jodi said. Her mother had no idea how complicated Internet business could be. Neither had Jodi, until she started setting up the site. A well-thumbed copy of Building a Web Site for Dummies had given her the basics, but she had no idea if the thing was going to bring in any business.

  She stood up and slipped into her denim jacket. Wyoming summer weather varied from ninety degrees down to forty. Today was a forty day.

  “I’m off,” she said. “Going to the Rotary lunch. I should be back by two or so.”

  “Who’s taking you?”

  Jodi rolled her eyes. She’d hoped to get through this without naming names. “Emmett Sage.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s…”

  “It’s nothing.” Jodi held up her palm in a traffic-cop gesture to stop her mother before the rhapsodizing got out of hand. “I went to him to get some release forms done up for the clinic, and he happened to mention that the speaker for today’s lunch had backed out. It’s a fund-raising opportunity, not a date.”

  “Well, at least you’re not going with Teague.”

  Jodi laughed. “Teague in Rotary? Yeah, right.”

  “Oh, he’s a member.” Her mother’s brows arrowed down in disapproval. “It’s part of his plan to make himself over, I guess.”

  “Wow. You’re kidding. Teague in Rotary?” Jodi cocked her head and stared at the ceiling, trying to picture Teague mingling with the pillars of Purvis. “I can’t picture it.”

  “I know. Like I said…”

  “Mom, stop.” Jodi did the traffic cop thing again. �
��I promised not to see him, and I won’t, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop talking trash about him.”

  “Okay. Just remember what I told you. Like father, like son.”

  “Mom…”

  Her mother made a zipping motion across her mouth and threw away an imaginary key.

  “It’s not like it’s a big sacrifice anyway,” Jodi said, tossing her hair as she headed for the door. “He’s impossible to get along with.”

  ***

  Teague hated Wednesday afternoons. The sheriff had insisted he needed to join Rotary if he was going to overcome his lousy reputation, but the weekly Wednesday lunch meetings made him remember why he’d been so ready to start trouble back when he spent his days stuck in school. There was still a part of him that wanted to raise hell when things got dull. Maybe if he stood up and shouted “fire” things would liven up a little.

  He ran his index finger around the inside of his collar, tugging it away from his neck and stifling the urge to gag. The restaurant was way too warm. It didn’t help any that Courtney had turned up. She’d commandeered a seat beside him, and kept rubbing up against him like a cat in heat. The girl was sex-crazed or something, and she was hardly subtle about it.

  He wondered if she’d come with her father. He didn’t see why she’d be a member herself; she didn’t seem to do any kind of work besides dressing up and lugging that little dog around. Maybe she’d crashed the luncheon. He wouldn’t be surprised. She’d been turning up everywhere he went for the past two weeks. He’d been nothing more than polite, but she took everything he said the wrong way. She seemed to think they were something more than friends.

  He shifted away from her as Darla Black entered the room. The pharmacist stood in the doorway a beat too long once her eyes lit on him and Courtney. She watched them like the big bad wolf watching piglets at play, eating up the sight of them and no doubt planning to spew it onto the sidewalks of Purvis in a torrent of gossip and speculation.