The Cowboy Wins a Bride (The Cowboys of Chance Creek)

by Seton, Cora

  Would he make it through the week? She followed Christine’s Appaloosa around a bend and ambled on. Maybe the question she really ought to be asking was, why did she hope so?

  * * * * *

  Jamie was relieved to confirm all five female guests were more than comfortable riding. Autumn had told him their background, but you never knew about a rider until you saw them in the saddle. They each had the easy grace of someone who’d grown up around horses, and Angel was the only one he’d had to switch mounts for. He’d seen right away she needed the most docile of geldings, and gave her an older bay named Sweetness.

  Even the cattle herding had gone just fine. He’d positioned the women carefully and for the most part they’d stuck where they’d been told to be and did just what he asked them. Liz, the hot woman who looked like a model but did something with books, often jumped the gun instead of waiting for instructions, but her instincts were good and no harm had been done. Now he hobbled the horses while the womenfolk whooped and hollered their way into the lazy current of Chance Creek.

  “Aren’t you joining us, Jamie?” Maddy called. Spunky girl, that one.

  “Be there in a minute,” he called back. Just like the women, he’d worn bathing trunks under his jeans. Strange way to take a swim if you asked him, but then it wouldn’t do to leave the family jewels on display with all these women around. Might start a riot.

  When he made his way down to the river’s edge their guests were all swimming in the shallow pool carved out by the bend in the creek. Claire was standing on the bank, just struggling out of her top, her jeans already in a heap by her feet. He smiled at her flushed cheeks when she reappeared. She wore a scarlet bikini with white trim that looked spectacular against her tan skin.

  He bit back the flattering words that rushed to his lips. Nope – even compliments counted as flirting this week, and he wouldn’t be caught.

  “Last one in’s a rotten egg,” he said and cannonballed into the center of the shrieking women. When he bobbed up to the surface and found himself surrounded by them, he realized he’d made a serious error. Dripping, gasping women eyed him with a mixture of attraction and playful fury and barely a second passed before Liz splashed him full in the face with a wall of water.

  “Get him!”

  They attacked from all sides. Splashing, shouting, laughing women in the skimpiest of skimpy bikinis vied with all their might to douse him. Jamie defended himself as best he could, smacking his powerful arms down and across the surface of the creek to send tidal waves of water back at them. He glimpsed Claire still on the bank, her hands on her hips and her head cocked, like a coach about to blow her whistle the first time she spotted an infraction.

  How the hell did you have a water fight with five bikini-clad women without flirting or touching? Jamie wondered wildly. He locked eyes with Liz and saw the challenge there.

  Uh oh.

  Sure enough, she moved closer and he read her intentions in her face. She wanted to dunk him, and in the process she’d get her hands all over his wet, slippery body.

  Nope. No can do, lady.

  Jamie gulped in a breath of air and submerged himself, fought through the tangle of arms and legs of the women paddling in the water around him and came up some ten feet away. He took another breath and stroked to the farthest side of the creek.

  “Okay, ladies, give our cowboy a break,” Claire called from the bank as several of the women made to follow him, Liz in the lead.

  “Awww.”

  Just like children, Jamie thought. Ravenous, man-eating children.

  He stifled a laugh, knowing damn well if it wasn’t for Claire’s presence and the hope of being with her at the end of this week from hell, he’d still be in the midst of that water fight, taking advantage of every opportunity those women offered him.

  But that was the old Jamie – the man who hadn’t invested in the Cruz ranch, the man who wasn’t building a life for himself here, a life he hoped included Claire.

  If he was sleeping with her, he’d never give any of these women a second glance. He floated on the water, already getting cold in this lazy bend in the mountain-fed stream, and watched Claire carefully pick her way in. She was lovely, but far more cautious than she used to be. Her mother's betrayal had driven her from the ranch and while he read her love for this land in every glance she caressed it with, he also read the fear there. How angry she must have been – how hurt – to leave home, practically abandon her family, and stay away from horses – horses, for crying out loud! – the one thing she loved above all else.

  He had to convince her that with Aria gone, it was safe to change her mind and stay.

  * * * * *

  That Liz was a pushy one, Claire thought as she took a few strokes through the water. Now that their fun was over, the women were chatting and laughing, playing in the water like teenagers, but rapidly beginning to get chilled. A couple were already headed to the banks to climb out and lay on their towels in the sun to dry off. Claire kept to herself, barely rippling the surface with a smooth breast stroke. She loved this time of day, when the afternoon wound down and the comfort of a Montana summer evening loomed ahead.

  Normally she’d still be hard at work designing interiors and fielding phone calls from clients who needed reassurance that yes, she’d get their projects done before the deadline. But growing up, this was the time she’d be shirking her duties in the kitchen to eke out a few more minutes with the horses before heading up to dinner.

  There was no way she could get out of cleaning up the dishes and tidying the kitchen after dinner, however, so she raced through those chores, then joined her father outside on the porch to watch the sun set and the shadows gather first in the valley, then finally on the distant hills. Her father didn’t talk much, but what he did have to say meant something, so she patiently waited for his words, watching him whittle away a stick to pass the time, sometimes with her own pocket knife in hand.

  She used to be like Liz – pushing and pushing for what she really wanted, but that had changed the day she found her mother and Mack MacKenzie together. She’d left the ranch, left her family, left her dream of being a rodeo queen and becoming her father’s partner in the business. She was still pushy, but only for surface things – only for things that didn’t really matter one damn bit.

  She struck out for the far side with a determined overhand crawl, suddenly needing movement to block out her confusion. She was beginning to think this week of ranch work was the worst idea she’d ever agreed to. Every familiar landmark around here dredged up old emotions best left undisturbed.

  When she bumped into something hard, she splashed to a stop and came up for air gasping. Jamie stood chest deep in the water looking down at her quizzically.

  “No touching!” she sputtered.

  “I didn’t touch a thing, you swam right into me,” he said, holding his hands up.

  “You could have gotten out of my way.”

  He stepped to the side. “Be my guest.”

  Claire turned her back on him and swam the other way. Time for her to join the ladies sunning themselves on the bank. Maybe if she kept herself surrounded by the women, Jamie’s charms would stop insinuating themselves into her like streams of liquid fire into her veins. Even when he wasn’t actively flirting he had to be the sexiest man she knew. In fact, without the shallow flirtation, he was sexier. Because underneath all that smooth charm was a man who loved horses, was as smart as a whip, and who knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it.

  Up on the grassy riverbank, she spread her towel near the other women and lay down, tuning in to their conversation.

  Liz sat up. “Tell us the truth, Claire – is Jamie a real cowboy or did you hire some model and train him?”

  “He’s the real deal,” she said, instantly on alert. She didn’t like the way Liz had set her sights on Jamie like a heat seeking missile locked on its target.

  “Autumn’s husband is a knockout, too,” Adrienne said. “Too bad he�
��s off limits.”

  Murmured assents from all around.

  “Any more handsome cowboys hidden on this ranch?” Liz asked.

  Claire shrugged, then realized they wouldn’t be able to see the gesture since she was lying down. “I guess. We employ about fifteen hands on and off. You would have seen most of them this afternoon.”

  “There were some cute ones,” Angel spoke up in her dreamy voice. “They didn’t get too close to us, though.”

  “Too busy working,” Claire pointed out.

  “I guess. Will they join us for dinner?” Liz asked.

  Jeez, did the woman never let up? “You’ll have to ask Autumn about that. I just do horses, not dinner.” She’d let Autumn know what the women were saying, though. The hands might not mind hanging around for supper and entertaining the female customers. Although, that might open a whole new can of worms. Would they expect to get paid for their time? She pictured Ethan and Autumn building a bunkhouse for studly cowboys somewhere on the property and running a reverse bordello. Rich eastern women could fly in and pick their man for the weekend. They’d make money hand over fist.

  “I wouldn’t mind renting a cowboy for the week,” Maddy piped up, echoing her thoughts. "Especially Jamie."

  “Maddy!” Several of the women pretended to be shocked, but from the giggles all around it seemed like they all had similar feelings.

  “Our hands are real people, working real hard to keep themselves and their families housed and fed. You’re all adults and so are they, but we hired them to run a ranch, not to provide…entertainment…for our guests,” Claire said.

  “You're engaged, so you can't lust after the cowboys,” Adrienne said, pointing at her ring. "But that doesn't mean the rest of us can't."

  "I'm engaged to…" She shut her mouth with a snap. Had she really been about to say she was engaged to Jamie? Sure, it would keep the ladies from hitting on him – she hoped – but that didn't make it a smart thing to do. Jamie would take that ball and run with it.

  "Who are you engaged to, Claire?" Jamie drawled behind her, and Claire's cheeks burned. A glance over her shoulder told her he was standing thigh deep in the water near the riverbank. She should have known he'd listen in to their conversation.

  "No one," she said.

  The women looked from her to Jamie.

  She felt a distinct coolness settle over the group. "Are you engaged to him?" Adrienne asked.

  "No," she said at the same time Jamie said, "Yes."

  "Well, which is it?" Maddy said.

  "I…haven't made up my mind," Claire faltered.

  Jamie climbed out of the water and stood dripping on her.

  "You're wearing his ring," Adrienne pointed out coldly. "Looks to me like you've made up your mind."

  Claire searched for a way to explain what had happened without sounding like a complete idiot. She was grateful when Jamie chimed in, “Better get going or we’ll miss dinner!”

  The women headed for the horses and Claire trailed after them. This was getting more and more out of hand.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Several hours later, Jamie sat down in one of the folding chairs perched on the tiny front deck of the cabin he’d lived in since Mack Mackenzie cleared out six years back, and Alex Cruz hired him on full time. With a back bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a front room that served as kitchen, dining room, living room and office, it was small but functional, and he welcomed it as a way to leave behind the father who never approved of his choices in life and the mother who understood her son but couldn’t stand up to her husband.

  He appreciated the peace living alone afforded him, and he appreciated his work and the lifestyle the ranch made possible. At first he saved his money because he had little to spend it on, and the habits instilled by his parents went too deep to bypass, but soon his dream of buying into the Cruz ranch coalesced in his mind.

  He worried that Alex Cruz would turn him down because he wanted to pass on the ranch unencumbered to his son, but as time went by, Jamie realized something Ethan didn't seem to: Alex was worried about Aria Cruz’s expensive spending habits. More than once he caught Alex going over his books, muttering about income and expenses. From bits of conversations he overheard, he knew whenever his boss brought it up with his wife, Aria flew into a rage. Ethan remained oblivious, but Jamie went on saving every scrap of money he could drum up, convinced that someday Alex would look for a partner – if not an outright buyer – for the ranch, and he wanted to be ready for it.

  When Alex and Aria died in a car accident the previous summer, Jamie braced himself for the day Ethan learned the truth about his inheritance. It had been worse than he’d imagined, and there were times he worried that Ethan would fold under the weight of his worries. Jamie had never imagined his chance to buy in the ranch would come under these circumstances and he was gripped with guilt every time he thought about stepping forward and offering the solution, afraid Ethan would see him as a vulture who’d waited for death to arrive to make his move.

  So when Autumn came up with the idea of the guest ranch and convinced Ethan to sell part of their land to raise money to start the business, he was overwhelmed with gratitude. Here was his chance to step in and help – truly help – his friend without his good intentions being taken for bad.

  Jamie didn’t want to split up the ranch, nor did he need to wrest control of it out of Ethan’s hands. All he wanted was a place to hang his hat and a chance to work with his beloved horses for the rest of his life.

  And to marry Claire.

  That wasn’t so bad, was it?

  “Got room for one more?” As if conjured out of his daydreams, Claire stood at the base of the steps. She must have walked up the path from the Big House without him noticing.

  He patted the arm of the other folding chair. “I saved this one for you.”

  She sat down with a little groan and Jamie chuckled. “Feeling a little sore, greenhorn?”

  “I can’t believe it’s been thirteen years since I've done any serious riding. What was I thinking?”

  “I don’t know – what were you thinking?” he asked easily. Her warmth made it likelier than usual she’d open up to him, but Claire was like a skittish colt. One wrong move and she’d dance away from him and he’d be back to square one.

  “I was thinking I had to put the ranch behind me. Put my family behind me.”

  “Your mother?”

  After a moment she nodded. “Yeah, Mom. I just couldn’t stand being near her after I knew she was sleeping around. I couldn't stand that my dad put up with it. Their whole marriage was a lie." She shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore, does it? They're gone."

  "I think for all their troubles your parents loved each other."

  Claire snorted. "Yeah. Look where that got them. If that's what love looks like, count me out."

  "People aren't as simple as you'd like them to be. You don't know what really went on in your parents' marriage."

  "I know that my mother slept with Mack."

  "You don't know why."

  "Sure I do – because my mother needed everything to be about her. She couldn’t share the limelight for a second."

  "She never seemed to really belong here," Jamie said. Just like Claire, Aria kept trying to leave the ranch. Her yearly trips lasted two, three, even four months at a time. But she always came back. "I think she loved your dad no matter how she behaved."

  "If my husband ever cheated on me, I'd leave him so fast it'd make his head spin. And I'd never, ever come back."

  She was on her feet, down the porch steps, and striding along the path to the Big House before he could stop her. So much for a nice, friendly visit.

  Jamie remained motionless in the folding chair as darkness settled over him, a new thought keeping him in place.

  Is that what was going on here? Did Claire think he was the type to cheat?

  He forced himself to stay calm as he thought this through. He considered himself a steady man, but did his actio
ns match that view?

  Not really. Not when it came to women. He wasn't a Casanova, but he'd had his share of casual relationships over the years. And he flirted a lot.

  Flirting.

  He'd be damned. No wonder she'd made that part of the bet – it was the key to the whole puzzle of the way she acted around him. Claire wanted him – he knew she did now that she'd given in to her impulses and made love to him. It wasn't a lack of desire that held her back.

  It was a lack of trust.

  Shame pierced Jamie like a white-hot knife. Why should she trust him? All she'd ever seen him do was flirt with every woman in reach. He'd behaved just like Mack, hadn't he? Teasing her, touching her, showing her he wanted her, and then sleeping with other women every time she turned around. He'd always told himself he was just filling the time in until she was ready to see him for the man he was and date him seriously, but what if she'd seen the type of man he was all along?

  Was he a player in her eyes – the kind of guy who used women and never looked back? He tamped down the flare of anger that twisted his gut. Surely Claire knew he would never give another woman the time of day if she went out with him. But was it fair for him to wait to change his ways until after she'd said yes?

  No.

  It didn't work like that at all.

  He had to prove to her ahead of time that he was a man she could trust. How could he have made such a mistake when he thought he had everything planned out?

  Damn, damn, damn. He'd really set himself up for failure. Now all his hopes for future happiness came down to this one week. He had to prove he could ignore five horny female guests all vying for his attention.

  Maybe if he succeeded she'd realize he loved only her.

  * * * * *

  Claire was surprised to find Autumn in the kitchen of the bunkhouse when she got back. She was sitting at the small table, sipping a cup of tea and fiddling with an envelope. It still seemed strange to see the renovations her brother had done to the building. The kitchen was the same as ever, but the large room that used to hold ten old-fashioned iron-framed bunk beds for the hired hands had been turned into a fair-sized living room and two medium-sized bedrooms with walk-in closets. Ethan used the closet off of his and Autumn’s bedroom as an office. She’d hung up a few pairs of jeans and shirts in hers, but they barely made a dent in the empty space.