Her Favorite Cowboy (The Watson Brothers #4)

by Ann B. Harrison

  “Because he told me it was.”

  “And since when have you done what anyone else wanted, Layla Cox?”

  She walked to the window and looked out between the blinds, keeping her tongue still.

  “You need to step back, Layla, and let someone else be in charge for a change, especially when it’s a job they know better than you.” She spun around to glare at him.

  Chance gave her a smile. He was doing his best to not offend her, but sometimes she needed the words of a friend to bring her down to earth. He made sense and she knew it.

  “Do you think he’ll forgive me for lashing out at him?” The way she’d laid into him when he went to find Fisher embarrassed her.

  She could try and say it was out of fear but deep down she knew it was because he hadn’t done what she’d told him. Layla wanted to be in charge of everything, always had. It served her well in the courtroom when doing battle but in her personal life it didn’t go down quite so well.

  “I have no idea. Tyson feels things deeply, more so than the rest of us. Probably the reason he stuck by Pa when the rest of us hightailed it out of there. He’s the reliable one in the family, always was.” He scraped a hand over his chin. “Thing is, we never gave him enough credit for what he did, standing by Pa and putting him on the right track. He not only took the brunt of our jokes as a kid, but the garbage we left behind. Tyson deserves better and I think it starts with you.”

  “You hit hard, cowboy.” The heat raced up her cheeks.

  “Learned from the best. You need to know when to let go and sit on the sidelines. It’s what makes a marriage work, sharing the load. Might take you a while to learn that but I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He reached over and patted her shoulder. “Got nothing to lose, Layla, by admitting you can’t be the boss of the world.”

  “Call it a professional quirk, risk, downfall, consequence, whatever. I’d be toast if I walked into the courtroom any other way.” She sighed and rubbed her hand over her growing mound.

  “This isn’t a courtroom. It’s your future we’re talking about, Layla. You have to treat it with respect and care.” Chance looked at her, his clear blue eyes troubled.

  “Spit it out, Chance.”

  “Fine, you asked for it. How come none of your other relationships ever came to anything?”

  “Because they weren’t the men I thought they were, that’s why.” She blushed, remembering Samar and his family’s opinion of her.

  Layla turned away from him, knowing the words she spoke were a lie. Every single man she’d dated over the last few years had started off fine, then backed away from her. She swallowed as the truth hit home. She’d scared them away and was doing exactly the same thing with Tyson. Only difference here was that there was a baby involved. You idiot, Layla.

  “Nothing in life is set in stone. Why don’t you go over and see if you can fix it? Give him a chance to prove that he’s the man you thought he was and let him have a say without you putting the words in his mouth. Or, if you aren’t prepared to fight as much as the Layla I know would, print him out another copy of those applications for brides and send him those instead.”

  Layla owed it to this baby and Tyson to give it one more shot and if it meant she had to grovel and beg forgiveness, so be it. After all, she had been the one to make the most mistakes in this relationship, and that was being perfectly blunt with herself. “You can be so damned hardheaded, you know.”

  “Back at you. Now I really must get home or my bride will be wondering where I am.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Ms. Cox has approved this one for you as a parting gift. Thinks it’s the best offer you’ve had so far. Don’t go messing up, Tyson, or mark my words, someone else will worm their way in there.”

  Emily thrust a sheath of papers at him, waving them in his face. So, Chance must have told Layla he’d burned the last copies she’d sent over. He’d only said anything about it in a fit of temper. Sore at himself because he’d dumped her, sore because she was the best thing he could have hoped for and, more than anything, regretting he probably wouldn’t be there at the birth of his son with the only woman he could imagine spending the rest of his life with.

  “Thanks.” He took them and dropped them on the closest hay bale. “Don’t let me hold you up.”

  “You’re not.” She turned and looked up at Copper Mountain, the sun setting in the sky leaving a hazy glow over the snow-topped peaks. “Sure is pretty out here. Why anyone would want to live in the town is sure a mystery to me.”

  “But you live in town.” He frowned and unhooked the girth strap on the horse.

  “Only because Mr. Forsythe brought us a house there.” She smiled wistfully. “Such a sweet man he was. Bought it before he proposed to me, he did. Thought it was his job to make sure he could provide for me before he made his intentions clear.”

  “Wise man, I would have said.” Tyson pulled the saddle off the horse and plopped it down on the rail.

  “Silly old fool is what I told him. If he’d been a little bit less stubborn, we would have been married years before then. But, no, he had it in his mind that a man had all the financial responsibilities before he popped the question. Course, once I said yes and we managed to nut out the yours verses mine problems, things looked up for us. Fifty-three good years together we had before he passed on.”

  “That’s nice.” Tyson picked up the hose and turned it on, running it over the horses back.

  “Nice, yes, I suppose so. Didn’t mean we didn’t have our disagreements. Every marriage has that. It’s how you deal with them that makes the difference.” She reached up and patted the horse’s soft white muzzle. “Gotta remember to listen and be ready to accept an apology too. One of the most important things, in my mind.”

  A niggle of self-doubt itched in his belly. Was there an underlying message here he wasn’t getting?

  “Best I be off and leave you to it. Don’t go ignoring those papers too long now, Tyson. Hate for you to miss out on a good life.” She turned and walked back to her car, taking the time to stop and look at the mountain once more before getting in and driving away.

  “Foolish old woman. What does she know about my life?” He turned off the hose and scraped down the horse, drying most of the water from its back before throwing a rug over it and leading it into the stables. Once all the animals were fed, he started to walk up to the house, his stomach rumbling with hunger then remembered the papers Emily had delivered. He went back and grabbed them, stormed up to the house.

  After Tyson had toed off his boots and hung up his hat, he threw the papers on the table, annoyed Chance had once again stepped into his business. Yes, he wanted a wife but not one of the women that had answered the ad. He’d only said it in passing, hoping his brother would drop the subject. The only woman he wanted, he couldn’t have.

  He flicked on the television, turned up the news, and padded into the kitchen to fry up a steak and some potatoes he had left over from the last meal he’d cooked himself. His supply of fresh vegetables was dangerously low and he cursed himself for not getting any yesterday. Pity that Jethro had soured his stomach and made him forget to stop at the grocery store on his way home.

  He grabbed the wilted broccoli, last skinny carrot and the large steak from Chance’s own beef before he lit the fire in the woodstove. The memory of Layla’s newfangled gas cooker poked him in the ribs as the first match refused to catch the kindling.

  “Darn fool thing.” He struck another match and held his breath while it caught.

  Once it roared to life, he shut the door and found a pan. Tyson seasoned his steak, left it to rest on the plate while the pan heated. He peeled his vegetables, put them in a small steamer and left it on the edge of the stove to cook slowly.

  By the time he sat down to his solitary meal, his mood was morose and anger only just simmered under the surface. Had he made the biggest blunder of his life? Only time would tell. If he could have a halfway decent relationship
with Layla and be there for his child, their short-lived fling wouldn’t have been a total write-off.

  The papers taunted him across the table. He reached for them, scanned the first page. It was a letter from Layla, explaining the reasons for only giving him one of the applications. She’d decided, upon review, that one applicant was more appropriate than the other. But there was more.

  “About you seeing me and Jethro together – I know it’s none of your concern but I want to tell you anyway. We were discussing his grandpa and he’d broken down and was crying on my shoulder, nothing more. He is doing his best to make things right between himself and Rupert before Rupert passes on and for that I give him credit.”

  Rupert passing on?

  “Please keep it to yourself but Rupert has only a short time left and Jethro is doing what he can to mend the fences between them. Hopefully they will succeed. There is nothing worse than losing a close family member on bad terms.”

  So she didn’t want to be with Jethro. That made him feel better but he still didn’t trust the guy any further than he could throw him. And it didn’t change things between them. Tyson flicked over the page and looked at the resume.

  It was typed on a page without a header and he started to read. He skimmed most of the information on the page until he came to the ‘goals’ section.

  Goals – My biggest goal is to try and sit back, not let my mouth run off and take over. In my career as a lawyer, I’ve always been the one to lead the charge, so to speak. I know it’s time for me to let others lead, especially where they know more than I do.

  Dreams – I dream of having a family. The child I carry now needs his father but not as much as I need the man I love. I hope he can forgive me for being so pigheaded, stupid, and arrogant to say nothing of doubtful. I’ve always charged forth and taken what I wanted, regardless of what it was, because that is my nature. I need to learn to not be so controlling and to stand back, letting my husband have an equal say in our lives. I’m ready to do that and this is why I feel I will be the best candidate for the mail-order bride.

  His heart started to race and he turned the page. What makes your heart sing? Lying in bed watching my favorite cowboy sleep, the stubble of his beard rough on my palm when I can’t resist reaching out to him.

  What scares you the most? Commitment. Without a doubt it would be this because I have never had to, nor have I wanted to, commit to anyone since my only serious relationship. I was hurt beyond belief but that shouldn’t stop me from believing there is someone out there for me. Now I feel that I want this more than anything else but still it scares me. With the man I love beside me, I know I can do it.

  What can you bring to this marriage? Regret. Sounds strange, doesn’t it, but I regret it ever got to this stage where I would have to apply to get back the trust and love of the man who holds my heart. I admit that it was my fault he left me. I’m a control freak, plain and simple. I’m stubborn. But I’m prepared to try and if it doesn’t work out, I won’t regret that I gave it my all.

  He flicked over to the last page and sucked in a breath. A black and white photo of his son stared back at him and below it, a color photo of the woman he loved, cupping the swell of her belly. A serene smile touched her lips but he could see the tinge of sadness too.

  Had he judged her wrong? Could he contemplate making the biggest leap of his life with her?

  A knock on the door startled him. He turned over the pages and strode over, ripping the door open expecting to see Layla standing there.

  “Hey, man.” Jethro Hansen lifted a hand and before Tyson could help himself, he took a swing at Jethro, connecting with his jaw.

  “Shit.” Jethro fell to the floor, landing on his butt. “Ain’t no need for that.”

  “Get up and I’ll do it again.” Tyson’s mood was dark. Partly because of the application Layla had sent him and partly because of the man sitting on his butt on the porch. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I get up?” Jethro wiped the smear of blood from his lip.

  “No. Say your piece and get out.” Tyson stood staring down at him, tempted to slam the door in his face.

  “I’m sorry. For everything.”

  “And, what am I supposed to take from that?”

  Jethro shuffled back and got to his feet, his arms out to keep Tyson away from him. “I told Grandpa I had to come and apologize to you. For all the shit I’ve given you over the years, the pain I’ve caused him doing it. Wasn’t your fault your father and mine fought over a woman.”

  “And what does that have to do with Ms. Cox?”

  “Sorry if you got the wrong impression yesterday. I asked her advice about how to go and fix things. I know she wasn’t going to tell me nothing confidential but we talked and, well, I’m not ashamed to say I cried on her shoulder, some.” He wiped a hand over his face, his eyes misting over. “Didn’t mean to but it was what it was. See, the thing is, Grandpa is sick and he’s asked her to take over and sort out his affairs before he goes.” Jethro sniffled and lifted his chin. “Been pains in the ass for more years than I can count but I’m trying to fix things between us if I can.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tyson leaned on the door frame, content to keep his fists to himself for now.

  “Well, I know how she loves you and the baby and stuff. I wanted to make sure I didn’t cause you two any trouble, like come between you or anything.”

  “Nothing can come between us, certainly not the likes of you.” The words hit him in the face as soon as he said them out loud.

  Hell, he was a stupid fool. He’d let so many things come between them. His stubborn pride, her career and money. His living arrangements and lack of ready cash.

  “Anyway, I had to apologize. I’m sorry for all the nasty things I said and all the times I got in your face. I hope you can forgive me.” He held out his hand.

  Tyson raised his head, looked the man in the eye, and knew he meant it. Tyson reached out, took the hand offered and gave it a quick shake.

  “Thanks. Good luck with Ms. Cox, too. You’re one lucky man, having someone like her to love you. I hope I get as lucky one day.”

  “I doubt she loves me after what I’ve done to her. But thanks for the apologies anyway. I appreciate it.” He watched Jethro walk toward his truck.

  He turned as he reached for the door handle. “She’s pining for you. Any fool can see that. Better go and claim her before someone else does.” With that last parting word of advice, he got into his truck and drove away, leaving Tyson standing staring after him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The banging on the door woke Layla from a troubled sleep. She sat up on the couch where she’d nodded off watching television, pushed her hair back from her face, and wiped at the tears she’d cried. The hammering sounded on the door again.

  “Layla, are you alright? Open up.”

  Tyson? Here?

  “Layla?”

  She stumbled to the door, tying her dressing gown as she went, trying to cover the baby bump that kept making the garment slip to one side. She opened the door and stepped back. Tyson loomed in the doorway, his hair mussed up, his cheeks flushed.

  “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

  “Because I have to apologize, that’s why. I… look, I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I just thought it would be better if we stuck to the previous arrangements. Less chance of us fighting and breaking up eventually.”

  “I get that so why are you here then? Ready to rub more salt into the wounds?” She turned and walked away. Yesterday, she’d been so keen to go and see him after her talk with Chance but common sense had won out and she’d driven herself home instead. Today, the idea had crossed her mind again but she’d talked herself out of it, not wanting to put her remaining threads of self-preservation and respect on the line and risk getting hurt all over again.

  “No. I want to take you up on your offer. If you still mean it, that is?”

  Layla turned to him, wrapping the gown aroun
d her belly and holding it there. Tyson’s gaze went to her hands and she saw the conflict in his eyes.

  “What offer? I don’t understand, Tyson. Probably because you woke me up but maybe you’d better fill me in here. I swear I have baby brain these days.” She curled her foot up under her butt and snuggled down on the couch.

  He closed the door and followed her into the lounge. “You answered my ad for a mail-order bride.” He licked his bottom lip and watched her.

  Oh no! “I… I did?” How the heck did that happen? Emily, Chance, I’m going to kill the pair of them!

  “Didn’t you?” Color washed up his cheeks and he started to back away.

  She hurried to her feet, stumbled, and fell against the coffee table, thumping her knee and crying out.

  He lurched forward, grabbed her, and pulled her into his arms. “Are you alright?” He ran his hands up her arms, over her hair, and cupped her chin in his hands.

  The look of sheer panic on his face warmed her heart. He did care for her, that much was obvious.

  Layla rubbed at her knee, cursing her stupidity. “Shaken but fine. Listen, Tyson. Sit down and we can talk, okay?” She returned to the couch and patted the cushion beside her.

  After a moment, he stepped over and sat, keeping a distance between them.

  “So, tell me about this application I sent you. How did you get it?” She hadn’t even printed it out when she filled it in, in a fit of jealousy.

  “You sent it with Emily. Didn’t you?” Realization slowly dawned on his face and a slow “oh” came from between his lips.

  “Yes, oh.” She smiled, albeit a little tearfully and reached for his hand. She took it, wound her fingers through his. “We are such lame ducks, Tyson. I think I just got paid back for looking for a bride for you.”

  “So you didn’t apply for the job then?”

  She watched the light fade in his eyes and hurried to put it back. “Yes, I did but I didn’t ask Emily to bring it out. I did it in a fit of temper but didn’t have the nerve to go that far. Not yet anyway.”