The Hot Cowboy (Western Romance Love Story)

by Alexa Davis

  When she argued, my father stepped in and agreed that while we knew the men we hired full time would never invade her space, there were times when we brought in extra help, and it would be remiss of us not to protect her in that situation, especially as she was the only female. I assured her we would do the same for any woman, and if we brought another on board while Rachel was here, we’d set up this end of the bunkhouse for multiple sleepers and she could share her space, as well. That seemed to placate her, and she agreed to take her smallest suitcase up to the big house with us.

  Before we walked out, Rachel handed me a folder, marked with “Skipper and Peace” on the front in black sharpie. I looked inside and saw complete veterinary records and training certificates, including one declaring Skipper an ideal horse dog, calm and non-aggressive.

  “I wanted to make sure you had a copy before we moved in,” she explained. I accepted the file and motioned for her to walk with me to the business office while the others headed back toward the large dining room. Once inside, I closed the door so we would have privacy and tossed the file on the desk.

  “I’d like to know more about why you want to be here and what you hope to accomplish, Rachel,” I began, motioning toward the only chair in the room that wasn’t piled high with files and paperwork. She looked around her and arched an eyebrow at me.

  “Well, I was hoping to get more training in herd management from your stable master, but if you’d like, I could play administrative assistant and dig you out of here.”

  “No thanks. I accepted the mantle of responsibility, I’ll figure out what the hell Dad had going on and get it cleaned up myself,” I laughed. I poured a small tumbler of whiskey and offered it to her. She turned it down, and I tossed it back and poured myself another. “Do you think that being here is the best for your future?” I redirected.

  “I really do. Honestly, if it isn’t, I’m still certain that there aren’t many things I could do with my summer that would be time better spent.” She smiled at me and looked out the window. “Don’t you think seeing that I was useful at a ranch like Lago Colina will look good on my resume?” she countered. “What would you rather see me doing?”

  “A beautiful, bright, talented woman who is also, apparently, a horse whisperer? Well, I think she should be spending her summer on a beach making stupid, young men crazy with lust as she cavorts in the water in next to nothing.” She scoffed, and I continued before she could argue. “Which is to say, that I’m real glad she’ll be holed up on my ranch, cavorting with my broodmares in faded Levi jeans and a beat-up cowboy hat.” I tugged at a stray curl resting on her shoulder.

  "What else do you think she should be doing, while she’s cavorting with horses?” Rachel inquired. I watched as a pale blush sprung into her cheeks and she glanced down at the floor. “Because I’ve been thinking…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced up at me and swallowed. My pulse sped up and I licked my lips, waiting for her to finish.

  “Yes?” I prompted, willing myself to stay still and not reach for her.

  “I was thinking that maybe I could help you get into racing, if you wanted,” she finished shyly. I took a single step toward her and stopped.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked, incredulous. I hoped she hadn’t figured out what I’d been thinking, as I surreptitiously checked my advance. She covered her face with her hands and for a split second, I thought she’d realized what had been on my mind.

  “I shouldn’t have blurted that out, especially before I prove myself,” she moaned from behind her fingers. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything.” Her shoulders sagged and she wouldn’t meet my eye. I found myself irrationally angry that she’d act like she was in trouble, shying away from me as though she’d disappointed me.

  “Don’t,” I snapped more harshly than I planned. “Just…don’t.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “I brought you on because you have a reputation already for having good ideas and knowing how to execute them.” I sighed and took her hands in mine. It wasn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having when I held her hands, but it would have to do. “If you have an idea or a question, ask me, or my father, or Pete. We’re here for you, as much as you’re here to help us.”

  “Thank you; I’m sorry if I offended you,” Rachel replied.

  “I’d be less offended if you’d stop apologizing,” I argued. I tried to look serious, but something about the way she had flinched made me feel even more protective of her. “How about we just start again, and you tell me what you tried to before we got sidetracked by your over-developed modesty?” I gave her a wry smile to let her know that everything was okay between us. "As far as I am concerned, it never happened.”

  She smiled back at me and tried again. "Have you ever considered racing as part of your business? I mean, real racing, like with thoroughbreds or even Morgan trotters?” She folded her arms under her breasts and hugged herself. “I was just thinking,” she mused, “with the beautiful horses your ranch breeds for show and the jumper you medaled last year, you might be thinking of branching out into triple crown territory.” She shrugged and cocked her head to one side. “It is really expensive, though, and you’d have to find a colt sired by a champion. I just wondered if you’d like me to do some research as part of my duties.” She looked at me expectantly.

  “How did you know that I’d even thought of taking our horses in that direction?” I asked. I had closely guarded that secret, planning to wait until I had full control of the ranch to engage in anything my father had dismissed as too risky. We’d fought about it at first, but as he kept pointing out, Lago Colina might be my birthright, but right now, it was his property and his herds. Still, I’d picked up a few mares with royal bloodlines and slipped them past him in the last few months.

  “I recognized a couple of your pregnant mares while you were showing me around, actually,” Rachel confessed. “I thought there was a good chance that their royal bloodlines meant nothing to you for racing purposes, but then I decided, if you have them, and you can find a good stud…” She let her voice trail off.

  “Why put a good bloodline to waste?” I finished for her. She nodded.

  “Exactly,” she agreed with a grin. I pursed my lips. I already had mares; it wouldn’t be too hard to call in some favors and find a decent stud. I nodded my head and motioned for her to lead the way out of the office.

  “I may have to take you up on your offer to help me shuffle paperwork.” I told her that my father wasn’t a man of technology and that my brother had only recently talked him into a computer at all. I had begun getting everything organized and onto the hard drive, but didn’t have much time to spare. “You can work in here while we wait on your new locking door,” I decided. Rachel heaved a deep sigh. She might not have been happy with my decision, but she realized it was better than the alternative.

  We walked to the back of the house where my mother had opened the double set of wide, French doors out to the back patio, though patio came nowhere close to describing the opulent, outdoor living space that butted up to the house. The outdoor kitchen looked over a sitting area complete with a flat screen television and fireplace, and the fountains that poured over the glass and rocks just outside the confines of the dining area at the edge of the deck framed in a view of the pastures and forest beyond. Rather than set the house right on the lake itself, it had been built up the hill and next to a creek tributary, which now ran through my mother’s gardens and the low pasture beyond, providing a view of lush flower and vegetable gardens, long swaying grasses, and beyond them, walnut and pecan trees in the orchard.

  When Rachel and I joined our families, my mother was already creating one of her complicated and masterful salads made with homegrown vegetables, fruits, and candied nuts. Dad was manning the grill while he and Rachel’s father talked about the ranchland, judging from the gestures Dad was making with his grilling tongs. Jackson and Caleb had taken over the corner by the fireplace and seemed to be conspiring like old friends. Rach
el stood quietly beside me and surveyed the scene. There was something about seeing all of these people together acting like old friends or family that struck me, like foreshadowing the future that I never imagined before with any other woman.

  My mother motioned us over and handed us each a plate. We were loaded up with enough food for an army and sent to sit at the dining table. Our fathers brought over a platter loaded with grilled steaks and set it in the middle of the table. We sat and broke bread together as families and celebrated the next step in Rachel’s personal journey.

  Amidst our lunch where we were laughing and eating and sharing stories, Pete walked in. He’d spent some time with Peacemaker and had a lot of questions about his lineage and his training so far.

  “That’s a fine piece of horse flesh you’ve got there, Rachel,” he said. “I’m curious about what your plans are for him and if there’s anything I can do to help.” My mother dished them up a plate of salad as he grabbed a steak off the top of the platter. He pulled up an empty chair to join us at the table. “Jackson, I know you haven’t had a lot of interest in the horses, but you really have to come take a look at this thoroughbred."

  Jackson simply nodded as a mouthful of food prevented him from answering. Caleb, Rachel’s younger brother, agreed.

  “After Rachel’s accident, the only thing Mom and Dad refused to give up was Peacemaker," Caleb offered. He started to say more but was cut off by his mother motioning him to be quiet. I glanced over at Rachel to see her face was completely white. It looked as though she might pass out. Her mother quickly stood and walking past her daughter, patted her on the shoulder.

  “What happened in his car accident?” I asked. “When did it happen?” Rachel simply shook her head and refused to answer. I looked at her father and mother in turn. Her mother gone quite pale, as well, but simply shook her head. It was her father who finally gave us the explanation. It made Rachel’s desire to be successful and to do so by her own sweat much more clear.

  "About two years ago, right at the end of sophomore year, Rachel was in a car with a friend coming home from a party. Rachel asked her friend not to drive because he been drinking. However, he became belligerent and dragged her to the car. A few miles down the road, he hit another car head-on and was spun off the road and into a tree." He was obviously angry just repeating the story. “Rachel was hurt far more than the driver and the passenger in the other car was killed.”

  Rachel stood from the table and left without a word. Her father watched her leave before he continued.

  "She’s worked very hard to get back from that time both physically and emotionally. She blames herself for the changes that our family made to pay for medical bills and get our kids to college." Her father shook his head. “Obviously, none of it was her fault and she has nothing to feel sorry for. I just wish we could convince her that. I can’t think of anything that will be better for her than to spend her time here working hard away from the people the reminder of that time.”

  Rachel’s mother sighed and picked at her food. Even Caleb was suddenly quiet and withdrawn; all chatter about his upcoming vacation in Europe died in an instant. I felt the hot, white rage building up in my gut, and I had to ask what it happened to the driver of the car in the accident. Her father told me that the young man was from money and as frequently happened in these cases, he got away with probation and a slap on the wrist.

  I heard Caleb make a gruff sound in the back of his throat, but he said nothing. Rachel’s mother got up and walked in the direction her daughter had gone. Lunch became subdued, and there was no more laughter. Everyone just quietly ate.

  When I thought enough time had passed, I went looking for Rachel myself. I found her in the room that she was using while we made her room in the bunk more secure. She was sitting on the edge of the bed talking to her mother, but seemed calm and not upset any longer. She gave me a wan smile she looked up and saw me.

  “I hope I didn’t cause a problem. I’m mostly okay when the accident comes up. But, it’s hard to see my father so upset, knowing there’s not much I can do about it.” She glanced at her mother, then looked back at me. “A large part of why I work so hard and try to accomplish so much is to show him that I didn’t let the accident ruin my life. One day, I’ll be able to pay him back and my mother for everything they sacrificed to take care of me and get me back to where I needed to be." She flushed and looked at the floor. “I’m just glad that I no longer have to worry about that kind of person in my life. I guess you just don’t really know someone until the chips are down.”

  I took that to mean that particular someone was no longer a part of her life. For the most part, I was glad for that. However, there was some small part of me that was disappointed I wouldn’t be running into him just so I could cause him a little pain, too.

  I smiled at Rachel and asked if she wanted to go for a ride the later in the afternoon. I wanted some time alone with her and I wanted to see Peacemaker in action. I had never taken a woman out to my special places on the ranch or by the lake, but suddenly, I couldn’t wait to show her all the amazing parts of my small world.

  Chapter 5

  Rachel

  My parents and Caleb took the empty trailer home with them. Watching them leave, it made my new home for the summer more real. I fought the fingers of panic squeezing tight around my throat. I knew I could manage this, but the pressure to bring something novel to Lago Colina, that would live on and weighed heavy in my stomach. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Instead of Daniel, it was Jackson who had come up behind me.

  “I know I’m younger than you, and it sounds like more than just years you’ve got on me,” he teased with a chuckle. “But, I know that school was just a twenty-minute drive away from home, and now, you can’t just run home anymore.” He squeezed my shoulder and smiled when I looked him in the eye. “I’m just saying, if you need anything, you can always talk to me, or Mom, you know, when the boss-men get you down.”

  I chuckled at him. After the intensity of the interview conversation I had with his father, I could easily see how being around him and the elder Hargrave brother could become challenging.

  Not to mention the heat that rushed through my body anytime his brother got close to me. It was a distraction I certainly didn’t need. But, it was nice to finally feel something again. After Jason had crashed us into that car and I’d been injured so badly, he hadn’t even visited me in the hospital. When I was out, he finally came around to tell me that I was too broken for him to want me. He’d actually had the gall to tell me that that scars were bad enough, but knowing that even if he overlooked them for my sake, I could no longer give him children was too much for him.

  I had been broken then. I’d cried and blamed myself for not getting the keys away from him. I’d forgotten that some of the bruises I’d had in the hospital had been from his fingers as they dug into my arms. I felt my stomach clench and bile rise up in my throat just remembering how cruel he’d been. I glanced at Jackson and saw he was watching me with a worried look.

  “No problem, Jackson. I’ll definitely come find you if I need to talk,” I reassured him.

  “Will you tell me what made your face look like you wanted to kill someone?” he asked, his eyes wide. I shook my head.

  “Naw. Some people don’t deserve the time or energy. If you forget to forget them for a minute, the best thing you can do is go back to pretending they never existed.” I smiled, but it wasn’t happy. I had found my own rock bottom at the hands of a selfish, stupid man. I would never let another person put me there, ever again. I patted Jackson on the back and went in search of Daniel. There was work to be done, and I figured that immediately was a good time to start.

  I searched the house with trepidation, feeling like a snoopy guest rather than an actual inhabitant with the right to wander freely. Finally, I located Daniel’s mother, who let me know that he was in the stable with Pete and his father, in her words, “behaving covetously,” and fawning over my
Peacemaker. I told her I couldn’t blame him and welcomed her to come visit anytime she wanted to get to know him.

  Before going to the stable, I went to the kennel I’d brought for Skipper so I could let him out, now that I could keep an eye on him. When I got to the kennel, the door was open and Skipper was gone. I panicked and started calling him frantically. When I paused to listen for him, I heard a muffled whine and a yip, then silence. I started yelling for him again, and Daniel came running from the direction of the stable.

  “What’s happened? Did Skipper run off when you let him out?” he asked, but he didn’t sound worried. “Don’t panic; I’m sure he’s just been out here smelling all the amazing things he couldn’t get to while he was stuck in there.” He smiled reassuringly and stroked my back.

  “No, you don’t understand. He was already gone when I got here, and when I called him, I could hear him. It was muffled, but he sounded scared, and then he cried like he’d been hit,” I babbled, tears overflowing from my eyelids. “He sounded so scared,” I repeated. My hands were shaking and I felt a panic attack taking over my body, making me tremble and feel dizzy. My chest hurt like I was being crushed by an elephant, and the world started to spin in front of my blurry eyes.

  Daniel started calling Skipper’s name, and when he paused, I heard one small muffled bark and another pained yip, but I couldn’t tell where it had come from. I forced the panic down into my stomach, where it churned like old milk.

  “Did you hear that?” I gasped to Daniel. He nodded and pointed toward a shed tucked just back from the bunkhouse where I’d sequestered Skipper on the deep front porch. He called out for Skipper again as he walked toward the building, but I took off running toward the shed and burst through the door. Two men gaped at me, so surprised when I burst in that I could see the whites of their eyes. Poor Skipper cowered between them, and I could see blood on his muzzle.