Cowboy to the Rescue

by A. J. Pine

  He held his hand over the top of his shot glass and shook his head in response to Casey’s question. “It’s my first full day on the ranch tomorrow. How about a burger,” he said. “Hear they’re pretty good around here.”

  Casey shrugged. “Probably because it’s the only place to get one around here. You want something a little more gourmet—and I stress the little—head on over to Pearl’s inn. Otherwise, I got you covered.”

  He laughed and guessed there was some friendly competition between the two main eateries in town. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, his great-aunt’s recipes were a force to be reckoned with. But he was steering clear of Pearl’s during the busy hours, and a burger sure did sound good.

  “Then I’ll have a burger with everything and fries.” He nodded toward Ivy. “She should probably eat something, too.” He knew a thing or two about some days catching you off guard. Life was funny that way. It never waited for you to prepare for the worst before the worst got handed to you on a silver platter.

  “This isn’t a date, by the way,” she told her friend as she pointed at Carter and then herself. “He finds me attractive but doesn’t want to date me, and I don’t date firefighters, so we have an accord.” She hiccupped.

  Casey raised her eyebrows. “An accord? Did you two write a treaty or something when I wasn’t looking?”

  “I’ll have my usual, please,” Ivy said, ignoring her friend’s ribbing.

  Casey winked. “A burger and fries for the gentleman and fried pickles for the lady who are on an accord and not a date.”

  She reached behind the bar and grabbed a tumbler glass, then used the soda gun to fill it with water. “In the meantime, drink this.” She set the water down in front of Ivy, who pouted but did as she was told. Then Casey headed out from behind the bar and back toward the kitchen.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, then swayed in her seat.

  “Whoa,” he said, catching her before she toppled off the side of the stool. “Maybe we should switch to a booth so we don’t have another emergency today.”

  She nodded again, then let him help her down. She wasn’t quite steady on her feet either, so he wrapped an arm around her torso and carried her water in his free hand as they made their way to an empty booth. She didn’t object but instead responded by wrapping her arm around him.

  His palm rested on her hip, and he had the distinct urge to rub his thumb along the curve of her waist. He didn’t act on it. But holy hell he wanted to.

  Once she was situated in the booth, he slid into the seat across from her. Then he nodded at her half-empty glass.

  “Drink more of that.” He ran a hand through his hair. He really needed a cut. “You eat anything at all today?”

  She drank, both hands wrapped around the glass, and shook her head. When she’d drained the contents, she set the glass down and swiped her forearm across her water mustache.

  Damn she was cute. There was nothing wrong with thinking that or wanting to sober her up so he could keep her sitting across from him for as long as this night went on, was there? It was nothing more than two strangers getting to know each other, and where was the harm in that?

  “The day just sort of got away from me,” she said. “The fridge fire, the first day of the store being open—I kind of forgot to schedule myself a lunch break. I might need to hire on an assistant or something, but the store has to make some money first.”

  Carter caught Casey looking for them at the bar and waved her over to their booth.

  “Pickles were up first,” she said. “Figured you wouldn’t want me to wait.”

  Ivy’s brown eyes lit up. “Did I ever tell you you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world?”

  Casey nodded. “Once or twice.”

  Ivy pointed at her friend but looked at Carter. “Isn’t she beautiful? She broke all the hearts in high school, especially Boone Murphy’s. Do you know they almost got married?”

  For a second Casey looked stricken, but then she laughed. “And now he’s getting married, so everything worked out for the best. Speaking of work, I’m closing, which means I need some backup in the friend department.” She glanced at Carter. “Can you make sure she gets home okay? It’s a short walk from here, ten minutes tops.”

  Carter nodded. “I’m on it.”

  Ivy dipped a fried pickle slice into a small bowl of ranch, took a bite, and sighed.

  “See?” she said, chewing. “Now I have my best friend and my new friend. Today wasn’t so bad after all.”

  “Atta girl,” Casey said, patting her friend on the top of her head. “Also, nothing other than water for you for the rest of the night. You’re supposed to open at noon tomorrow, and you don’t want to miss the Sunday out-of-towners who want to go home with an Ivy original.”

  Ivy gave Casey a salute then went back to her pickles.

  “Be back with your burger in a minute,” she told Carter. “Want another beer?”

  He leaned back in his booth and shook his head. “Just a soda,” he said. “Coke or Pepsi. Whatever you got.”

  A second later it was only the two of them again.

  “I don’t have much of a tolerance,” Ivy said.

  Carter laughed. “Yeah. I sort of figured that out.”

  “Thanks for walking me to the table,” she added.

  “Mind if I try one of those?” he asked, eyeing her food. “If you’re looking for a way to repay me, food always works.”

  Ivy shook her head. “I guess I can spare one. You did keep me from butt planting or face planting at the bar. Not sure which it would have been.”

  He snagged a pickle disk, dipped it in the ranch, and popped it in his mouth.

  “Mmm,” he said. “Those aren’t half bad. And it would have been a butt plant, judging from the angle of your sway.”

  Ivy blew out a breath, and a rogue lock of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail blew with it. “I’m not usually half in the bag before seven o’clock,” she said. “Today was just—”

  “One of those days,” he said, finishing her sentence. “I get it. No need to explain. And the pickles and water seem to be helping you crawl back out of that bag, so no worries.”

  She smiled, and he was sure in that instant that Casey wasn’t the only one breaking hearts when they were teens. He’d bet the last fried pickle that her smile alone had devastated a heart or two along the way.

  “Food and water,” she said with a shrug. “Who knew they were so much better for you than three shots and a beer?”

  Casey took a break for dinner and ate with them. When they finished their food and Casey headed back behind the bar, Ivy insisted they head back as well.

  “I don’t want to hold up a four-top when there’s only two of us,” she said.

  But he knew the truth. She didn’t want to be alone with him because that would have been like a date, even if it wasn’t. And though he knew that was the right thing to do—to keep Casey as their buffer—he’d have stayed at that table alone with her if she’d wanted. He’d have stayed until the tavern closed, if only to avoid the inevitable for as long as possible—saying good night to Ivy Serrano and good morning to a reality that didn’t include terrible liquor or fried pickles or the woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about since walking through her shop door that morning. She was beautiful, yes. But she was also strong-willed and funny. What it boiled down to, though, was that simply being in her presence made him forget the stress of the job, of being a new person in an unfamiliar place he hoped to call his permanent home.

  He was in big trouble.

  Carter had played with fire plenty in his line of work, but never had he felt more in danger of getting burned.

  Chapter Three

  The sun had finally dipped below the horizon when they left the tavern two hours later. While country music blared inside the bar, as soon as the door closed behind them, all Ivy could hear was the buzz of the cicadas and the occasional chirp of a cricket
.

  “Wow,” Carter said, looking up and down the street. “This place really does shut down at night, doesn’t it?”

  “Did you live in Houston proper?” she asked. “I imagine this is a far cry from city life. Spent some time in Boston when Charlie and Allison first had the baby and then again after he…” She cut herself off and shook her head.

  Charlie had thought their parents would flip when he told them he was moving to the east coast to be near Allison’s family. Instead they’d seen it as an adventure—a reason to travel more—especially with their father nearing retirement. Ivy hadn’t expected them to move there permanently, but then no one expected Charlie to die. After that, her parents couldn’t leave the place where their son was buried, and Ivy couldn’t blame them. “It’s like it’s happening for the first time every time I think of it. I wonder if it will ever get any easier.”

  They walked slowly, Carter seemingly careful to keep his hands in his pockets, which she appreciated. If his pinky accidentally brushed hers, she might do something stupid, like hooking her finger around his.

  Why had it been so easy to mention Charlie’s name with a man who was a stranger before this morning? To share a sacred shot of apple pie liqueur and even her fried pickles? Opening day was a success, but she couldn’t get past how it had started, with a fire and the reminder of what she’d lost. And here was this man who was the embodiment of that loss, and he’d somehow made it better.

  “Couldn’t you have been a jerk instead of a perfect gentleman?” she mumbled.

  “Did you say something?” he asked.

  She turned her head toward him, her eyes wide. “What? No. Cicadas,” she said, protesting a bit too much.

  “Cicadas,” he mused. “Sure thing, Serrano.”

  She shifted her gaze back to the sidewalk and tried to ignore the charming lilt of his accent. They ambled along the sidewalk to where it looked like the street hit a dead end at the trees, but she kept on to the right and led him to a small residential area where most of the Meadow Valley locals lived if they weren’t farmers or ranchers.

  “It’ll always hurt,” he said as they slowed around the curve. “But after a while the hurt has a harder time clawing its way to the surface. It gets covered up by the good memories of the person you lost and eventually by new joy you let into your life—when you’re ready, of course.”

  She stopped, shoved her hands in the back pockets of her own jeans, and turned to face him.

  She stared at him for several long seconds. They were the only two people outside at the moment, but the way he looked at her made it feel like the quiet street was their own little world. If he were anyone else—if he did anything else for a living other than risking his life—she would… What would she do? The only relationship Ivy’d had for the past two years was with her own grief. She still wrapped it around herself like a blanket—a reminder to protect her heart from ever having to go through that again.

  “You ever lose someone close to you?” she finally asked.

  He nodded once but hesitated before saying more.

  “It’s okay,” she said, breaking the silence. “You don’t have to tell me. It helps enough simply knowing when people understand.”

  He cleared his throat. “We already shared my first emergency since coming to town, my first taste of fried pickles, and my first and last shot of apple pie liqueur. Why not share personal loss as well?”

  His attempt at humor would have sounded callous if she couldn’t tell it was a defense mechanism. She was an expert there.

  “I’m all ears,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I was an idiot kid who got in the car after a party with a buddy who shouldn’t have been driving. But because I’d been drinking, too, I believed him when he said he was okay to drive. Made it all the way to my street before he lost control and wrapped the car around a light post. Front end caught fire. I got out—and he didn’t.”

  He said the words so quickly and matter-of-factly, like it was the only way he could get them out. It didn’t stop her heart from aching, or the tears from pooling in her eyes. He more than understood what she’d been through yet hadn’t said a word all night while she’d cocooned herself in her grief blanket tighter than she had in months.

  She reached for him but pulled her hand away before making contact. This was too much. Their connection kept getting harder to ignore. She had to make a concerted effort to keep him at arm’s length.

  “I’m so sorry, Carter. I—you—this whole night you were so nice to me, and I had no idea that—”

  There were no right words for wanting to wrap him in her arms while also wanting to run as far from him as possible.

  “Hey there,” he said, resting a palm on her cheek and wiping away a tear with his thumb.

  She shook her head and stepped back, hating herself for doing it. But all she had left was self-preservation, and Lieutenant Carter Bowen was the biggest threat to it.

  He cleared his throat, taking a step back himself. “It was more than a decade ago. And I meant what I said. It does get easier. I can talk about Mason now—remember how he was the best at making people laugh, even our teachers. He kicked the winning field goal at our homecoming game junior year. And he had a real future planned, you know? Football was going to take him to college, but he wanted to be a doctor. A pediatrician, actually.” Carter laughed. “He was the one on the straight and narrow path while I cut class more often than I went.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  He forced a smile.

  “It’s true. I never cut for the sake of cutting. It was always for work. My brothers and I knew from the time we were young that our future was already mapped out. After graduation, my two older brothers went to work at my old man’s auto body shop. I was supposed to do the same. It wasn’t like there was money for college for three kids, least of all the youngest.” He shrugged. “I accepted my fate like my brothers had—until Mason died.”

  Ivy crossed her arms tight over her chest, the urge to touch him—to comfort him—almost more than she could bear. “You changed direction after the accident,” she said. It wasn’t a question. She knew.

  He nodded. “Much to my father’s dissatisfaction, but I was done letting others make decisions for me, especially when I know better than anyone else what’s right for me.”

  “What about your mom?” she asked, tentatively.

  “She was sort of caught in the middle. She understood us both but wasn’t about to take sides. So I got my grades up senior year. Did two years at community college, got my EMT certification, then took out a loan so I could finish my bachelor’s in fire science.”

  “So fighting fires is your penance for surviving when Mason didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe it started that way, but the more I learned, the more I realized I could help people in all sorts of capacities. Even did some presentations at local schools about my firsthand experience being in the car with someone under the influence. I hope to set up a similar program in Meadow Valley and neighboring areas.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “You’re a good man, Carter. Your father should be proud of you. I hope he comes around someday.” Ivy dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m only a few more minutes this way. You can head back if you want.”

  He glanced up at the star-studded sky, then back at her. “Don’t really have anywhere to be. Plus, I promised Casey, and I don’t want to get on the bad side of the person who runs the one nighttime establishment around here.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  But she smiled softly as she turned away from him and strode toward the bend in the road. The safest thing she could do was put as much distance between herself and Carter Bowen as possible, but a few more minutes with him by her side wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  He didn’t say anything for the rest of walk, letting her silently lead him to her porch, where she stopped short of the front door and pivoted to face him
once again.

  “Can I ask you something?” he finally said.

  “Okay,” she answered.

  He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her eyes for a moment, then squared his shoulders and set his blue-eyed gaze right at her.

  “I’ve dated plenty. Some relationships got more serious than others, but I’ve never told a woman about Mason until tonight, and it hasn’t even been twelve hours since I met you, Ivy Serrano. Why do you suppose that is?”

  Because, Lieutenant, there’s an undeniable connection between us.

  Because, Lieutenant, if I believed in such a thing, I’d say we were kindred spirits.

  Because, Lieutenant, it feels like it’s been more than twelve hours. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d say I felt like I’ve known you all my life.

  But it wouldn’t help either of them to say any of that. So she swallowed the knot in her throat. “Because, Lieutenant, I’m simply a good listener. It’s my blessing—and maybe my curse. People like to tell me things they wouldn’t tell anyone else. I guess I just have one of those faces.” She shrugged, hoping it would sell the lie. “I wouldn’t read any more into it than that.”

  Except that I’m a liar, and I want to kiss you, and you scare me, Lieutenant.

  She finally gave in and skimmed her fingers along the hair at his temples and where it curled up above his ear. She couldn’t let the night end without any sort of contact, hoping he understood this was the most she could allow herself to give.

  “You need a trim,” she said. “I could do it. Casey went to cosmetology school right after high school. She used to practice on Charlie, even taught me how to do a simple cut.”

  He laughed. “And here I thought you were going to break your own rules and do something crazy.”

  “Like what?” she asked, but she knew. She wouldn’t be the one to say it, though. She wouldn’t break the rules.

  “Like kiss me,” he said. And even though he was teasing her, hearing the words out loud made her realize how much she wanted them to be true.