“Please, tell me you’re feeling.”
“Oh, I’m feeling all right,” he growled as he plundered the delicate line of her soft throat.
“Good, because if you’re feeling, as per our talk the other night, that means I need to learn to accept help.” He’d never seen her eyes so luminous or heard her voice so breathless. She jumped and he caught her as she wrapped her slim legs around his waist. “And I think I’ll start by you helping me get out of these wet clothes.”
*
For the second time, Cordell awoke to the sound of rain on the ranch house roof. But this time the raindrops were intermittent. This time daylight peeked through the pink floral drapes. He smiled. This time he had a naked Payton in his bed.
“What are you smiling at, cowboy?” Payton said, from beside him, her words husky with sleep.
He tucked her closer against his side and kissed the top of her tousled head.
“Nothing.”
The hand that rested on his chest slowly slid down to the sensitive skin of his stomach. His breath hissed.
“Nothing, huh?”
“Nothing.” His own fingers trailed along the curve of her hip. “Well, I guess it has rained.”
“It has. Finally. Any other reason?”
“Well … it’s wet outside so I can have a lie-in.”
Her hand travelled lower.
“Any other reason?”
He caught her fingers and lifted them to his lips. He needed a second to make sure when he spoke he had his emotions firmly in check.
“And I slept well because you were with me.”
Her smile shone sunrise bright. “Correct answer, cowboy.”
She sat, pulling the sheet with her to cover her chest. But he already knew the perfection that now lay hidden beneath the bed sheet. His hands and mouth had memorized every satin dip, curve and hollow.
“Seriously?” he said with a frown. “You’re getting out of bed?”
“Yes, you know a cowgirl’s work is never done.”
She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “I’ll check the horses and I also want to check my calves. They haven’t ever seen rain and those gullies will be streaming with water. Now shut your eyes.”
He did as she asked.
She kissed his closed lids. Her silken hair brushed his chest.
“Get some more sleep because when I return you’ll have things to smile about. This cowgirl might have work to do, but she also knows how to play.”
*
An hour later, Payton had more things on her mind than showing Cordell her playful side. She pressed her foot on the gas pedal but instead of moving forward the truck remained stationary. Dammit.
She’d driven through the pasture conscious of the truck wheels becoming bogged but she’d thought this flat patch of dirt would have provided good traction. But as her tires spun there was no doubt she’d misjudged the water-logged ground. She blew out a frustrated breath and gazed through the mud-splattered windshield to where the cows and the two calves watched her.
She pressed her foot on the gas again. The truck slid forward a body length; she changed gears to reverse and to rock the car out of the grooves cut in the wet earth. But the wheels couldn’t get a proper grip. Small clods of mud kicked up by the churning tires, showered the truck cabin roof. She eased her foot off the gas pedal and the revving of the truck’s engine quietened.
A black object moved in her peripheral vision and she looked out the side window. Trouble had left the herd and walked closer. Even with the distance between them, she could see the latent power in the thick slope of his shoulders and his broad forehead. She really should give Brock Sheenan a call and see if he wanted the bull. Cordell was right, he wasn’t the safest and most predictable creature to have around. She’d tolerated his bad temper knowing his elite genetics would flow through to his offspring. But the longer he stayed, the more he lived up to his name.
She’d try one more time to go forward and if that didn’t work, she’d go to Plan B. Walk home and get the tractor. The phone in her jeans pocket vibrated. She pushed aside the denim jacket she wore and took out the phone. Henry’s name illuminated the screen.
“Hi, Henry.”
“Hi, Payton. Cordell with you?”
She was glad Henry couldn’t see her face because the heat that flooded into her cheeks at the mention of Cordell’s name would have been a dead giveaway of the night they’d shared. Her lips curved. A tender and sleepless night that even now made her breath catch.
“No, he’s … at the ranch.”
“Thought so. Otherwise, he’d be out pushing by now.”
“Henry, where are you?” She looked around but all she saw was that the bull had moved closer. “How do you know I’m bogged?”
Henry chuckled. “My superhuman vision.”
“Ah, your binoculars.”
She opened her window and waved in the direction of Larkspur Ridge Ranch where it nestled high against the mountains.
“See that?”
“Sure did. Now can you get out or do you want me to come and give you a tow?”
“No, thanks. You stay inside where it’s warm.”
“You’ve been there for a while, you know.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“It’s a fair walk home for the tractor and there’s more rain coming.”
She glanced at the ominous gun-metal grey clouds that hung low overhead. “I know that too.”
“It’s either have me come down or I can call Cordell and get him to drive the tractor to you.”
She thought of the peacefulness of Cordell’s expression as she watched him sleep and the tell-tale dark circles that appeared a permanent fixture beneath his eyes when he was awake. She didn’t want to interrupt his lie-in. “No. If it really is okay, maybe you could come down?”
“I’m already in my truck.”
“Henry!”
“See you soon.”
She killed the pickup’s engine and pulled her jacket closer to her chest. The bull now worried her. He’d stood closer to the immobile truck than he ever had before and had turned side on as though trying to intimidate her with his size. She’d never stopped around the cattle before, perhaps it was only moving trucks he kept away from? She honked her horn but he didn’t move. As plump raindrops fell on the truck cabin she turned the ignition key so she could use her windshield wipers. She wanted to know where Trouble was at all times.
It wasn’t long before she heard the diesel chug of Henry’s truck. Behind her it was still bare dirt but in front of her there was a rise with both good vegetation and drainage that would provide enough grip for Henry’s tires. He’d have to drive around the bogged truck and position himself so a chain could be hooked between the two vehicles. He would then drive forward and pull the stuck pickup free. The trouble was the path from the gate to the front of her truck was where the now head-shaking bull stood.
But as Henry slowly drove toward the bull, all he did was flick his tail, turn and amble away. She released her held breath. Trouble wasn’t going to prove a problem. Henry waved as he drove past and pulled to a stop. She saw him unfasten his seat belt and turn to judge the distance between them before he reversed.
Too late she saw a flash of black as the bull spun around. Head lowered and shoulders hunched he powered toward the driver’s side of Henry’s truck.
She honked her horn and called out but the impact of the solid bull hitting the truck door drowned out all other sound.
Heart in her throat, she threw open her passenger door and slid through the mud to the front of her truck. She crouched and when the bull retraced his steps, she ran low to the ground to the passenger side of Henry’s car. She slipped into the truck, her knees quaking. Henry sat slumped in his seat, blood on his forehead. She needed to get his truck moved outside the bull’s flight zone so he’d cease seeing them as a threat. Then she needed to get help.
The bull pawed the muddy ground, readying for another as
sault. The truck’s engine continued to idle. She couldn’t move Henry but as the vehicle was an automatic, if she could put the column-shift into drive, gravity would propel the truck forward. She fiddled with the column-shift and the car rolled, quickly gathering momentum. She leaned over and with one hand turned the steering wheel and with the other grabbed and then secured Henry’s seat belt.
This time when the bull hit, he made contact with the tailgate. Payton lurched forward. She steadied herself and took advantage of the truck’s momentum down the slight slope. She prayed her quick assessment of a gap within a nearby cluster of fir trees would be correct. As the truck glided between two trunks and the vehicle slowed to a stop on the level ground, she put the column-shift into park.
At least now the low branches would protect the truck’s sides and leave only the front and the back vulnerable. The sturdy fallen branch out her window would then give her a weapon should they now not be far enough away. She could only hope Trouble would think the threat to himself and his herd had passed and he would turn away.
Shoulders shaking, she turned to see where the Angus bull was. He stood at the top of the rise. Blood dripped from his nose and as he shook his head, the action one of pain and not aggression. For the moment, they were safe.
She whipped out her phone and dialed 911. She then called Cordell. As he picked up, she didn’t even wait for him to speak.
“Cordell, please, I need your help.”
Chapter Ten
‡
“My mother always said an open fire made everything better,” Cordell said as he placed another log on the cheerful blaze burning in the stone hearth of the Beargrass Hills living room.
“She would say that having had two boys,” Payton said with a weary smile from where she sat on the sofa with a red floral cushion cuddled to her chest. “What is it with fire and boys? I remember a pyromaniac teenage Rhett lighting a campfire every chance he got.”
Cordell reclaimed his spot on the sofa. He lifted his arm and Payton again snuggled into his side.
He threaded his fingers into her fragrant hair and massaged her scalp.
“How’s the head?”
“Sore. I don’t even remembering hitting it, but I’ve a killer headache.”
He slipped his fingers from her hair and brushed aside the silken strands over her forehead to kiss her warm skin.
Silence fell between them, broken only by the pop of an ember in the fire and the splatter of raindrops on the roof.
“I keep seeing Henry slumped in the truck and Trouble charging,” she said in a whisper, tremors wracking her.
“You saved Henry’s life.” Cordell’s arm tightened around her waist. “It mightn’t have seemed like it, but you were in control. You moved the truck away from Trouble and somewhere safer and then made sure Henry received help as quickly as possible.”
He kept his voice even, pushing back against the surge of his own emotions. He knew firsthand how powerless she’d felt. When he’d answered his cell and heard her desperate words, fear had stripped all warmth from his skin. The time it’d take to grab his bullwhip, saddle Mossy and high tail it to where they were, could mean the difference between finding Payton and Henry safe. Or not.
He locked his jaw to keep both his feelings and thoughts at bay.
“Is he really going to be okay?” she asked, words low and anxious. “He looked so broken lying in the hospital bed.”
“He’ll be fine. It’ll take more than a hit from a bull to keep Henry down. Remember what the doctor said? They’ve done a CT scan and there’s no damage to that hard head of his.” He smiled. “I also suspect, from the amount of attention they’re paying to his hip, now they have him in hospital they’re not letting him go in a hurry.”
“Henry does hate hospitals.” A small smile curved her lips.
“Is that because he’s been in there a lot?”
“No. After his rodeo days ended I think it was thirty years before he set foot inside one again. Anna, his wife, passed away suddenly in her sleep so he didn’t spend time in hospitals like I did with Mom.”
“You said on the day we met, he hasn’t any family? What happened to his sister?”
“Mom said she died when she was in her teens. Anna was an only child and so not only doesn’t he have any children but he also has no extended family on her side.”
“He has you.”
Beneath his arm, Payton stiffened. “Yes and look where that got him. He comes to help and ends up with concussion.’
He hugged her. “It’s not your fault.”
She didn’t answer.
“Rhett looks good for someone who came off second best with Mossy,” he said changing the subject.
“He does. Thanks for seeing him and for clearing the air before he left the hospital to go home.”
“No problems.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “You talked for a long time?”
He kept his expression neutral. Payton didn’t need to know their conversation involved where he could find the Taylors. “Did we?”
The ring of the phone in the kitchen saved him from any further explanation.
“Sit tight,” he said, as he stood to answer the phone.
Minutes later, he returned. He stoked the fire to prolong the time until he sat beside Payton.
“Who was it?” she asked as he returned to the sofa and she scooted against his side.
He took a moment to speak. “Henry.”
“Good. He must be feeling better if he called.”
Cordell nodded, forcing his mind clear of all emotion.
“What did he want?”
“He’s up to having visitors.”
She leaned away from him to look toward the waning light beyond the living room window. “Now?”
“No, tomorrow, early.”
He knew his reply had emerged too terse when her eyes widened.
“Cordell, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He came to his feet. The living room went from being warm and cozy to cold and claustrophobic. “Henry wants company.”
She stood too. “I’ll grab some blueberry cookies out of the freezer. They’ll be thawed for when we visit tomorrow.”
Cordell caught her elbow as she turned.
“He only wants one visitor, Pay.” He steeled himself. “Me.”
Confusion parted her lips. “You?”
“Yes. I can still take him the cookies, if you’d like?”
She pulled her elbow from his grasp and went to sit on the sofa to again hug the cushion. Sadness dulled her eyes.
He sat beside her. “It’s okay. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you, he … needs to see me.”
“What for?”
He scraped a hand around the base of his neck. “He didn’t say.”
“Would it be because he’s mad at me for not calling Brock about the bull like he’d asked me to?”
“No. You’re like a daughter to him. He wouldn’t be mad or blame you for what happened. He loves you and would be relieved you’re okay.”
“Then why doesn’t he want to see me?”
The deep misery pooling in her gaze moved him far more than if tears had slipped over her cheeks.
He spoke before his emotions could sabotage his thoughts. “I’m certain Henry only wants to see me because somehow he’s worked out … the real reason I came to Marietta.”
He briefly closed his eyes. It was time to set his secrets free. But for some reason it didn’t make what he was about to say any easier. He’d come to heal the wounds of the past but along the way he’d lost his heart as well as his ability to control his feelings.
“Cordell?”
Payton’s fingertips brushed his cheek.
He braced himself. Then, he opened his eyes.
“He wants to see me because … I’m his son.”
*
Payton stared at Cordell’s impassive face as though she’d never seen him before. His features may appea
r as though carved from the same stone as the rugged Montana mountains, but the glitter in his eyes indicated his emotions hovered very close to the surface.
“His son?”
He swallowed and nodded.
“How? He loved Anna, he wouldn’t ever have been unfaithful to her?”
“He wasn’t.” Cordell’s voice sounded as rusty as the blades of the windmill she refused to look at. “Ethan and I … happened … before he was married.”
The pieces of the jigsaw slotted into place.
“That’s why Mossy let Henry lead him without too much fuss. That’s why you reminded me of someone. I see now you have Henry’s smile.” She traced the line of his mouth with a gentle finger. “And you know what, you look a little like the photo Henry has of his father in his office.” Her hand lowered. “But then again maybe you don’t. Do you have a picture of your mother?”
“I do.” He dragged his billfold out of his jeans pocket, flipped open the leather and pulled out a folded photo. She carefully prized it apart. A smiling, dark-haired woman had her arms around two boys.
“She’s beautiful.” Payton looked closer at the faded color photo. “Perhaps Henry could have known who you were because you have your mother’s blue eyes?”
“Maybe, but lots of people have blue eyes. Look at Rhett, he does too and we’re in no way related.”
She brushed her thumb across the boy on the left, who with his tousled hair and take-no-prisoners stare was obviously Cordell. “You haven’t changed.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Look at me and what a little hellion I was. Ethan hasn’t changed either.” Affection softened his tone as he gazed at his brother. “His hair is still always neat and he’d rather talk his way out of trouble.”
She handed Cordell the photo. She stayed silent as he replaced the precious photo into his billfold and returned it to his jeans pocket. Outside darkness pressed against the windows but she didn’t move to close the drapes. She didn’t want to provide any excuse for Cordell to shut down on her. It would be hard for him to embrace his feelings, let alone to talk about a past that would be steeped in painful emotion.
“Where do you want me to start?” he asked as he settled back onto the sofa, strain gouging grooves beside his mouth.
Cherish Me, Cowboy (Montana Born Rodeo Book 2) Page 10
