Along Came a Cowboy

by Christine Lynxwiler

  Jack grits his own teeth in a comical imitation of me and repeats, “Dirk?”

  “Yes,” I say, glancing around. “She likes him, and I think they left together.”

  “Calm down,” Jack says and puts his arm around me, veering me away from clumps of eavesdroppers. “So what. They’re good kids. She’s fine.”

  “She’s not fine,” I hiss and instantly put a clamp on my tone. Force a smile. “She’s not fine. She’s with Dirk.”

  “I got that part. And?”

  “He’s a. . .a. . .” Just how much do I have to spell it out? Jack is looking at me, waiting, eyebrows raised. I lower my voice. “A cowboy.”

  “No,” he says, an incredulous tone in his voice.

  I blow out my breath, exasperated that he isn’t taking me seriously. “You know what kind of—”

  “Guys cowboys are?” Jack finishes for me.

  And yes, while I was thinking that, I can’t bear to admit it.

  “What kind of trouble girls can get into with cowboys.” Oh no. Like that was better? Why did I say that to Jack of all people? After wondering forever, suddenly I’m not the least bit ready to find out if he knows what happened that summer or not.

  His brown eyes are full of compassion. “Dirk’s a great guy. A Christian. And he has lots of integrity.”

  I can almost hear between his words. Dirk’s not Brett. But as I look up at Jack and see the concern on his face—concern, and perhaps a little anger—I notice it’s void of judgment.

  Maybe. . .maybe he doesn’t know.

  “He’s not that kind of cowboy,” Jack says softly.

  Oh. My throat tightens, and it’s almost on my lips to ask him straight out what he knows about that summer. But he’s shaking his head, and something like disappointment crosses his face. “When are you going to stop judging every cowboy you meet? I think it’s time you learned to trust someone, Rachel.”

  I know he’s right. Why was trusting him easier in a dark cave where I couldn’t see my feet? Was it because I had no choice then? Because out here in the sunlight, it’s hard not to overanalyze and scrutinize every motive.

  He stares at me, as if he’s waiting for a response. No, not just waiting, begging for one.

  I shake my head. “I’m going to look for her.” And without a backward glance, I head over to the nearest group of people.

  Ten minutes later, my heart is pounding. I’m about to raise a real alert when I hear my name.

  “Aunt Rachel!”

  I turn and see Jenn weaving her way toward the picnic area through the crowd. Miranda is beside her.

  “Jenn!”

  She comes up, her face flushed, holding a sweater at the neck around her shoulders. “Do you have a safety pin? The strap on your old dress broke, and Miranda and I tried to fix it, but it won’t stay tied.”

  Oh. So then she wasn’t. . .off. . .with—oh boy.

  “Sorry, I don’t have a pin. Mama Ruth will though.” She turns to go, and I touch her arm. “Lark said she saw you with Dirk.”

  Jenn frowns. “I wasn’t—” She laughs and slaps her palm with her forehead. “Actually, yeah. He stopped by for a second right after we got here to give me a CD he wanted me to listen to. Some new country singer. I keep telling him I’m not a country girl, but he’s convinced I can be. I told him some things never change.”

  Clearly, she’s right. Like prejudices and fears and all around stupidity. While she and Miranda head off to find Mama Ruth and a safety pin, I turn to try and make amends with my date, aka my own noble cowboy.

  But Jack’s gone. I glance around for him then cringe as I see his truck pulling out of the park.

  Matt Dillon would never leave Miss Kitty high and dry, no matter how badly she acted. So much for my hero.

  “Hey, Rach,” Lark calls and waves frantically.

  She looks like she’s about to drop in her tracks, so I go toward her. “Yeah?” I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve been ditched without a word.

  “I’ve been all over the park looking for you. Then when I finally spotted you, you were all the way over here. Do you know how hard it is to walk in these heels?”

  “I’m sorry, Lark. I didn’t know you needed me.” My words are automatic since my brain is still fixated on the truck I just saw leave.

  “Jack asked me to tell you—” She chooses this minute to stop and bend over to catch her breath. “Whew.”

  “Jack told you to tell me what?” I try not to snap, but it’s hard.

  “He got a call. One of his horses is foaling, and apparently it’s not going well. He had to leave immediately and couldn’t find you. I think he tried your cell.”

  “It’s in my car.”

  She nods. “Oh. He said to tell you that Dirk is the one who called him. I’m not sure why that was important, but he repeated that twice.”

  Heat creeps up my neck. “I understand.”

  “He also said that since you drove over, he didn’t think you’d mind seeing yourself home.”

  A couple of hours later, when Jenn and I get in the car, I’m not ready to go home. I cock an eyebrow at her. “Feel like riding out to the Lazy W?”

  She looks over at me. “Is this a trick question?”

  I chuckle. “No, it’s for real. Jack had to leave to check on a mare. I’d like to make sure everything’s okay, but I hate to call in case he and Dirk are in the middle of a birth.”

  She settles back in her seat. “Makes sense to me. We could stop by Coffee Central and get them a couple of iced cappuccinos just in case it’s going to be a long night.”

  A peace offering. “Sounds perfect.”

  “You really like him, don’t you?”

  “Dirk?” I admit I’m stalling, but I don’t know how to answer this question. “He seems nice.”

  “I mean Jack.”

  “Oh. He’s nice, too.”

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s obviously crazy about you.”

  “Oh yeah, the way he ditched me tonight is proof of that.”

  She looks over at me. “He ditched you?”

  “He couldn’t find me when he needed to leave. I was off looking for you.”

  “Ah. When you thought I’d run off with Dirk.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Why don’t you trust me?”

  I frown at the road. “I do trust you.”

  She crosses her arms. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  I swing into the Coffee Central parking lot. “I’m giving you a chance to see him again tonight.” I park and kill the motor.

  “Sure. With you right there.” She waggles her eyebrows and grins as we enter the coffee shop. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “Better not be looking a gift horse in the mouth, missy.”

  “I’m not about to.”

  We giggle with our heads together while we guess what flavors to get for Jack and Dirk.

  “Too bad they don’t have one called Macho Cowboy Cappuccino,” Jenn says.

  “We’ll have to take that up with Daniel after the honeymoon.”

  In the end, we settle on iced white chocolate mochas, and soon we’re turning down the lane to the ranch.

  The barn lights are on when I pull in. “Looks like they’re definitely still at work.”

  I push open the door, and Jenn follows behind me.

  “Jack?”

  “Rachel? Down here,” he calls, surprise evident in his voice.

  When we reach the stall, Jack is kneeling beside a colt. The baby, still slick and new, its knobby legs wobbly, toddles toward its mama. The palomino mare lying on her side regards Jenn and me warily. Or wearily. I’m not sure. “Is she okay?” I whisper.

  Jack nods. “Couldn’t be better.” He stands. “You want to get them settled in for the night?” he asks Dirk.

  “Sure.”

  Jack steps out of the stall and washes his hands at the wall sink. Then he looks at me. “Feel like getting a little air?”

 
I look at Jenn, who whispers, “I promise not to run off.”

  I grimace. “I trust you,” I whisper back. Plus, I won’t go far.

  As Jack and I walk outside, I hold up the cappuccino. “I came bearing gifts.”

  He gives me a sideways glance and raises an eyebrow. “Peace offering?”

  “Exactly.”

  He takes the cup from my hand. “I accept.”

  “Seriously, I’m sorry for my major overreaction earlier. Dirk seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “He is. His dad works full-time for me, but he hurt his back a few weeks ago. Dirk already worked here part-time and is filling in for his dad this summer so the family doesn’t lose any income. Not many sixteen-year-old boys think like that.”

  “No, you’ve got that right.”

  “I appreciate you coming out here. I wasn’t expecting it.”

  I duck my head. “To tell you the truth, neither was I.”

  He grins. “I’m an impulse? I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be too flattered. Desserts are an impulse with me, too, but I rarely indulge.”

  “Ouch.”

  He puts his arm loosely around my shoulders, and I glance at his hand. “You have nice hands.”

  “Wow, you are impulsive tonight.”

  I nod. “A little. But I notice hands. That’s why I held on to yours so long in the office that day when you came with your mom. I’ve always wanted to clear that up.”

  “Oh, so really you’re just complimenting my hands to make sure I know that you’re not remotely interested in the rest of me.”

  My turn to raise an eyebrow. “Did you moonlight as a personal injury attorney while you were on the rodeo trail? You’re twistin’ my words a little there, cowboy.”

  He leans against the fence and pulls me around to face him. “Look up.”

  I obey and draw in a breath. “How did I not notice that?” The stars, so many the June sky seems like it might not be able to hold them all, twinkle brighter than I’ve ever seen them. And the full moon appears to be smiling benevolently down on the earth.

  “Sometimes the most amazing things are right in front of us, but we never see them.”

  He tugs me toward him in a loose embrace. I know I should turn and run, but I lean toward him. He drops a light kiss on my forehead and releases me.

  In a hopefully inconspicuous move to support my trembling legs, I clutch the fence rail. After we look up at the sky in silence for a minute, and I’m able to stand without support, I push away from the fence. “I’d better get Jenn and get home. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  “Can I still be your date even though I deserted you tonight?”

  I motion toward the barn. “Since you had a good excuse, I guess I won’t rescind your invitation.”

  “Whew.” He makes an exaggerated motion of wiping sweat from his brow. “I was afraid I was going to have to call Blair and beg her to reinvite me.”

  “You’re a very funny man.”

  “I’m glad you know I’m kidding. She’s called me several times to ask when the next committee meeting is.”

  I bet that’s not all she wants, but I won’t go there. “You didn’t tell her it was next week, did you?”

  He shakes his head. “I told her I just show up when you tell me to.”

  I laugh then raise an eyebrow. “You really told her that, didn’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  I move toward the open barn door. “I’ve really got to go.”

  Jenn and Dirk are on their knees next to the colt when we reach the stall. Good thing that dress is old.

  I clear my throat. “You ready?”

  She nods and stands up. Dirk jumps to his feet and stammers a little. “Bye, Jenn. Thanks for the coffee.”

  Jenn smiles. “Cappuccino.”

  He nods. “I thought it tasted a little funny.” His face reddens. “I mean it was good. Kind of cold, but good.”

  “It was iced cappuccino, goofy,” she says.

  “That explains it then. It was great.”

  “Think he’ll be able to get his foot out of his mouth long enough to walk out to his truck?” Jack whispers in my ear.

  I grin. “He reminds me a little of you.”

  He pokes me gently in the side, and I jump away.

  “Good night, Jack.”

  “Good night, Rachel.”

  When Jenn and I are in the car, I glance over at her. “From that smile, I’d say you had a good time.”

  “Dirk is. . .awesome. He’s different than any boy I’ve ever known.”

  “Yeah, that’s part of the cowboy charm.”

  “I’m guessing you dated a cowboy when you were young, and it didn’t turn out well.”

  Uh-oh. Is it just me or is there a big Thin Ice sign pointing toward this conversation? “Something like that.”

  “Is that why you never married?”

  Crack.

  I keep my eyes on the road, grateful for the darkness of the car interior. “Who knows why anything happens?”

  “Yeah, but did you ever come close to getting married?”

  I shake my head. “Not really.”

  “Why not?”

  Okay, obviously I’m going to have to work a little harder to get back to safe ground. “I never married because I never met anyone I could imagine growing old with.” A sudden vision of Jack, his brown hair peppered with gray, pops in my mind. I blink away the warm fuzzies and concentrate on what Jenn’s saying.

  “Oh. Well, there’s still a chance you might.”

  Is she trying to comfort me?

  I hunch over the steering wheel and give her my best old woman voice. “Yes, you young whippersnapper, I suppose anything is a possibility. Even at this late date.” I roll to a stop at the light and wink at her. “Or I might decide that I like being single.”

  “I guess.”

  She doesn’t sound convinced, but thankfully she drops it. Maybe the ice isn’t going to open up and swallow me whole. . . tonight.

  Whose bright idea was it to have an outdoor wedding anyway?” Allie groans.

  Mama Ruth continues to deftly weave tiny glass beads and baby’s breath through the gorgeous updo she just created. She gives us a subtle “Handle this now” look.

  Lark, Victoria, and I just look at each other then back at this exquisite creature. We’re more used to seeing Allie with a garden trowel in her hand and dirt smudged on her nose.

  Finally Lark says, “Honey, it’s just a tiny cloud. It’s going to blow right over.”

  I smile. “She’s right. Jenn and I heard the weather report on the way over here, and this afternoon is going to be sunny.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Allie has her back to the dresser mirror per Mama Ruth’s instructions. In her lap is a hand mirror turned facedown. Every time she tries to look in it, Mama Ruth gently slaps her hand. She casts a wary sideways glance at Mama Ruth and holds the mirror in her lap to keep it from falling as she motions out her bedroom window with the other hand. “Does that look sunny?”

  I walk over and look out at the blue skies. “Honestly, it does. There’s just one little cloud here by the window.”

  “One little cloud?” Allie wails. “And it’s outside my window?” Her blue eyes widen. “That’s not a good sign, is it?”

  We all laugh then simultaneously cut off in midchuckle as we realize she’s at least semi-serious. “You know those prewedding jitters you were saying earlier you couldn’t believe you hadn’t had?” Victoria says.

  Allie nods.

  Vic grins. “I’m pretty sure you have them now.”

  “Really?”

  “You know what you need?” Mama Ruth says and steps back to look at her handiwork.

  “What?” Allie starts to pick up the large mirror on her lap.

  Exasperated, the older woman snatches it away from her. “No lookin’ yet. What you need is just. . .that.” Like a painter putting the finishing touch on a masterpiece, Mama Ruth gives a ti
ny twist to a strand of Allie’s hair then steps back with a sigh of satisfaction. “There. No jitters now.”

  She puts the mirror in Allie’s hand.

  Allie looks in it and gasps, then stands and faces the larger mirror. Mama Ruth holds the hand mirror so she can see the back of her hair and dress. “I look like a. . .”

  “Princess?” Victoria guesses.

  “Supermodel?” Lark adds.

  Before I can guess, Allie shakes her head. “Like a bride.”

  “A beautiful bride,” I say quietly, tears stinging my eyes.

  She gives us a tremulous smile. “The most blessed bride in the world.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” Mama Ruth says, wiping her own eyes.

  “Mom!” A knock pulls us all back to the present. “The carriage is here.”

  Katie pushes in the door, looking perfect in pink. “Can we go get in the carriage? Wow! Mom, you look awesome.”

  Miranda, beautiful in her purple dress, comes in. “When you knock, squirt, you’re supposed to wait for someone to say come in.” She sees her mom and stops. “Wow.”

  Behind Miranda, Allie’s mother puts her hand to her mouth, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “You look beautiful, honey.”

  “Now that we have a consensus,” Mama Ruth says, “let’s get this show on the road.”

  When we get within sight of the beautiful white horse-drawn carriage in front of Allie’s mom’s house, Mama Ruth insists she’d rather take her car than ride in something that might turn back into a pumpkin at any minute.

  Allie’s mom laughs. “I think I’ll go with you, if that’s okay.”

  As they drive away, we walk over to the glistening covered carriage. The snowy white horses toss their heads as if in greeting.

  “Mama Ruth is right,” Katie says. “This is just like Cinderella’s carriage.”

  “Only supersized,” Jenn adds, as she climbs into the spacious cab.

  When the seven of us are settled in, the driver shuts the door, and in a few seconds, we’re listening to the clip-clop of horses’ hooves through the open windows. “I feel like we’re in a fairy tale,” Miranda says. “I can’t believe Daniel did this.”

  “He’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?” Allie beams, all traces of her earlier nerves gone.