A Cowboy’s Challenge
The McGavin Brothers
Vicki Lewis Thompson
A COWBOY’S CHALLENGE
Copyright © 2018 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
ISBN: 978-1-946759-50-4
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737
Cover art by Kristin Bryant
Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
But Wait, There’s More!
Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson
About the Author
Chapter One
Attention, Eagles Nesters!
Wes Sawyer untangled himself from the covers and staggered out of bed. What the hell?
Cut the chit-chat, folks, and sign in at the parade registration table! That means you!
Ah. It was just Ellie Mae Stockton on her bullhorn, organizing the Fourth of July Parade. He flopped back onto the bed. He didn’t have to…oh, wait. He’d promised his brother Pete he’d be in the thing. Grabbing his phone, he checked the time. Yikes.
But he couldn’t go down there without a shower. Savoring the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafting up from Pie in the Sky, he walked into the bathroom. His sister Roxanne’s old apartment wasn’t modern or fancy, but its location above the bakery was primo. When she’d asked him to take over the lease he’d jumped at the chance.
He twisted both knobs of the ancient shower. A tiny stream of water dribbled out. Damn it! He was fragrant after all those sweaty hours helping a client’s mare through a difficult labor. A sponge bath wouldn’t do it. Now what?
Assuming Ingrid’s shower worked, he could ask to borrow hers. She’d be downstairs making specialty coffee drinks and baking up a storm, but he could call her.
No, he couldn’t because he didn’t have her number. Her apartment would be unlocked because nobody locked doors up here, but he couldn’t use her shower without permission.
Cussing a blue streak, he tugged on the clothes he’d left in a pile when he’d dragged himself home at four this morning. He’d totally spaced the parade. Pete, responsible oldest brother that he was, would be in the staging area, checked in and waiting for him.
He picked up his phone as he went out the door and called Pete. “Hey, bro. I overslept.”
“You’ll be here, though, right? Fudge and Clifford are saddled and ready to go. Roxanne came over last night and did a little mane and tail braiding for us, too.”
“Nice. Listen, I’ll come as soon as I can. I hope we’re toward the back of the parade.”
“Yeah, sort of. Just hurry.”
“I will.” He disconnected the call as he got to the bottom of the stairs. Twisting the deadbolt, he stepped into pre-parade chaos. Main Street had been blocked off for vehicles but it was packed with chattering people, whinnying horses, high school band kids testing their instruments and a float that had stalled on its way to the staging area.
“Eagles Nesters!” Ellie Mae climbed up on the stalled float, bullhorn in hand. Her blinged-out jeans and fringed vest glittered in the sun. “Some of you still haven’t signed in! Make your way to the sign-in table immediately!”
Wes threaded his way through the noisy crowd to the bakery’s front door. It stood open and the line stretched a block down the sidewalk. He approached the door and touched the arm of a middle-aged woman standing in the opening. “I’d appreciate if you’d let me get by, ma’am. I’m not going to order anything. I just need a word with someone in there.”
The woman glanced at him. “Who?”
“Ingrid Lindstrom. She works here.”
“It’s sardine city in there, son. You’ll never get to her. “
His height allowed him a decent view of the interior and sure enough, it was a sea of customers. Ingrid had to be in there, but where?
“You could borrow Ellie Mae’s bullhorn.” The woman chuckled as if she’d made a joke.
“Good idea.” Moving as quickly as possible without shoving, Wes reached the side of the float and made a megaphone of his hands. “Miss Stockton!”
She turned and walked to the edge of the float. “I remember you! You’re one of those good-looking Sawyer men. Spokane’s loss is our gain.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Can I borrow your bullhorn for about thirty seconds?”
“Promise you’ll bring it right back?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, all right. Wouldn’t normally do it except you’re cuter’n a bug’s ear.” She handed it down.
“Thanks, ma’am.” He worked his way back to the bakery’s open door and raised the bullhorn. “Ingrid, it’s Wes! Can I use your shower?”
All the chatter stopped and everyone stared at him. He hadn’t counted on that.
“Yes!” Ingrid shouted back. Her laughter was drowned out by everyone else’s.
Okay, so he’d made a fool of himself. He was in too much of a hurry to care. After returning the bullhorn to Ellie Mae, he dashed up the stairs. He snagged a towel and washcloth from his bathroom before jogging the length of the hall to Ingrid’s apartment. He’d been in it once briefly to borrow matches for his gas stove but he’d been too busy to socialize.
On opening the door, he was greeted by a colorful poster that hadn’t been there the first time. He would have noticed a cartoon of a cycling fish. A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
He chuckled. Having a sister had taught him a fair amount about women. A smartass poster like this didn’t appear for no reason. Likely some guy had ticked off Ingrid, and recently, too.
Locating the bathroom was easy. He just followed his nose to the lemony scent he associated with her. Add in the warm pastry smell she picked up at work and she was an aromatic delight.
Stripping down, he turned on the water, picked up his washcloth and climbed in. Her setup was like his, a small glass enclosure that probably suited her fine. He usually banged an elbow or knee at least once during every shower.
Maybe he should have brought his own soap and shampoo. Didn’t think of it. After this he’d smell just as lemony as she did. He’d find some way to thank her for the use of her stuff.
He was racing the clock, but he wiped down the walls of the shower and mopped up the floor with his towel. He’d never mastered the art of getting out and drying off without dripping, especially in this tiny space.
Wrapping the towel around his hips, he scooped up his clothes and hot-footed it back down the hall. Following a quick shave, he put on his nicest Western shirt, dark blue with some silver embroidery on the yoke. If Fudge was stylin’ w
ith a braided mane and tail, a classy shirt was the least he could do.
His jeans weren’t new but they were clean. He gave his boots a once-over with his bath towel before shoving his feet into them. Wallet, door key, cell phone, hat. He was outta there.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he went outside, locked up after himself and pocketed the key. He let his hair dry in the breeze instead of putting on his hat right away. While he’d been upstairs, Ellie Mae had restored order, which was a very good thing. The parade was five minutes from kickoff.
As he passed the bakery’s front door, Ingrid turned the hanging Open sign to Closed. She gave him a quick grin and a thumbs-up. He returned the gesture. The goodies in the bakery’s window made his stomach growl, though.
Nothing to be done about that, now. He headed to the end of the street where two guys on horseback stood waiting for the signal to start the parade.
Wes had lived in Eagles Nest less than a month, so he was still learning who was who. But there was no mistaking Ryker McGavin and Badger Calhoun, both dressed in Air Force blues and holding flags that rippled in the breeze. He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting.
“Cuttin’ it a little close, there, Wes,” Badger called out.
“I’m aware of that, Badger.” He lengthened his stride as he moved down the line. He passed the ENHS marching band in their green and gold uniforms, lined up and ready to play Sousa, no doubt. Next were the vintage cars and trucks, most sporting patriotic flags or bunting.
Faith, who’d married Cody McGavin a couple of months ago, was driving her green pickup with the Whine and Cheese Club in the back practicing their dance routine to Born in the USA.
“Get a move on, cowboy!” Kendra McGavin called out.
“What she said!” Wes’s dad grinned at him from the seat of his vintage Harley positioned behind Faith’s classic truck. “Glad you could make it, son.”
“I’m not there, yet, Dad.” He was a little surprised that Kendra was with her girlfriends instead of sitting on the back of his dad’s bike, since they were crazy about each other.
Then again, they’d warned their kids this would be a non-traditional love story. For one thing, they didn’t intend to live together. His dad had sold his place in Spokane so he could be with her, but he’d bought horse property across the road from her ranch.
Despite the buzz of voices and hum of idling engines, Ellie Mae’s voice came through loud and clear on the bullhorn. “It’s time! Move ‘em out!”
As the band struck up Stars and Stripes Forever, Wes jammed his hat on and jogged past an elaborate float for Zane McGavin’s birds of prey rescue organization, Raptor’s Rise. A precision drill team that had at least two McGavin brothers in it followed behind the float.
Beyond the drill team, Roxanne waved to him from the Guzzling Grizzly float. She was perched on a bar stool next to her fiancé Michael Murphy. The country duo that had helped put the GG on the map—Bryce McGavin and Nicole Williams—tuned their guitars.
The GG float edged forward. Pete was right behind it, mounted on his big roan Clifford and holding Fudge’s reins. “About time.”
“Sorry.” Wes took the reins and swung into the saddle.
“At least you made it.”
“Barely.” He tapped Fudge with his heels and they started off at a slow walk behind the float. “Thanks for trailering my horse over here.”
“Had to. He’s been asking about you.”
“I’ll bet.” He reached down and stroked the gelding’s silky neck. “Sorry to be AWOL, Fudge. Love the red, white and blue ribbons, buddy.”
“Roxanne outdid herself. Figured it was our first parade and all. How come you overslept?”
“Had a foaling last night. It ran long.”
“How much shuteye did you get?”
“Three hours, maybe a little more.”
“Ouch.”
“Can’t complain. Business is good.”
“If it doesn’t kill you.”
“Hey, this is what I asked for.” Wes glanced over at his brother, who looked more like their dad every day. Pete had inherited the Sawyer coloring of light hair and eyes, while the rest of them took after their mom.
Pete grinned at him. “As they say, be careful what you ask for.”
“It’ll settle down after a while. I’m grateful to Kendra for talking me up. She’s a one-woman promo team.”
“Tell me about it. The foreman job she recommended me for is working out great.”
“That’s good to hear. I haven’t seen you since you started working there.”
“I noticed. Dad and I had this crazy idea if you based your practice in Eagles Nest, the Sawyer men would get to hang out, have a beer together now and then.”
“Like I said, it’ll taper off. Kendra will run out of leads. But are you okay being foreman of a ranch that isn’t yours and Dad’s?”
“Love it. I can ask for days off. I draw a paycheck instead of wondering if we can meet payroll when our income dips. I can’t speak for Dad, but ever since we sold the Lazy S, I’ve felt like somebody lifted a Brahma bull off my shoulders.”
“I’m happy for you. I—oh, there’s Ingrid.” She’d come outside to stand on the sidewalk with Abigail, the owner of Pie in the Sky. As luck would have it, they were on his side of the street. He’d have an opportunity to thank her. “I had to use her shower this morning.”
“Say what?”
“Old building, dicey plumbing.” He admired the way sunlight picked out the golden highlights in Ingrid’s hair. She’d worn it in a ponytail today.
“Good thing you had a shower backup, then.”
“Amen to that. I was ripe.”
“Whereas now you smell like lemon drops.”
“You can smell it way over there?”
“The breeze is in my direction.”
“Trust me, it’s an improvement from how disgusting I was earlier.” The GG float stopped and Wes drew back on Fudge’s reins. Perfect. He was exactly opposite Ingrid. He smiled at her and tipped his hat. “Much obliged for the loan of your shower.”
She smiled back. “No problem.”
“Are you going down to the park?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great.” He turned to Abigail. “How about you?”
“Definitely. After the parade’s over, Luke’s coming back to fetch me.”
“With his truck?”
She laughed. “On his horse, believe it or not.”
“Great idea. Gives me one.” He slipped his left foot out of the stirrup and held out his right hand to Ingrid. “Hop on and I’ll give you a lift.”
“Oh, that’s not necess—”
“Come on.” He beckoned with his hand. “It’ll be more fun than walking.”
“Parade’s moving, bro,” Pete said.
“It’s now or never, Ingrid.”
“Okay, why not?” Taking his hand, she put her foot in the stirrup and grabbed the cantle as she swung up behind him. “Yee-haw!”
“Hold onto me.”
“Gotcha.” She wrapped her arms around his middle.
The nearness of her warm body plus the aroma of lemons and baked goods gave him a sensory high. “We’re off.” He touched Fudge’s flanks with his heels. Best idea ever.
Chapter Two
Until the moment she’d wrapped her arms around Wes, Ingrid had placed him in two categories—older brother of her best friend and new neighbor down the hall. They’d exchanged casual greetings on the stairs and sat at the same big table when a group gathered for dinner at the Guzzling Grizzly. She’d thought nothing of letting him use her shower this morning.
But sitting behind him on his magnificent horse was an entirely different experience. She’d swear he hadn’t been this solid when he’d visited Roxanne back in March. He must have been lifting weights. Even though they’d been living in the same building for the past month, she’d somehow missed the fact that he’d muscled up.
Impossible to ignore i
t today. His broad shoulders radiated strength. How inconvenient. She didn’t want to notice his physique—or any man’s for that matter. Not after the way Mark the cheating jerk had ground her heart into the pavement.
She’d just have to put it out of her mind. She could ride down to the park with him without being affected. Joining the parade had sounded like fun, and she was determined to enjoy the experience. She and Abigail had talked about creating a float for Pie in the Sky but that would have meant closing the bakery on parade day and losing a ton of revenue.
“I didn’t think to ask if you’d ever been on a horse.” The rumble of his voice was rich and smooth, like a well-made latte.
She’d ignore that, too. “I have. I rode with my friends when I was a kid.” She glanced over at his brother. “Hi, Pete.”
“Good to see you, Ingrid.” He touched two fingers to the brim of his Stetson.
“Kendra says you and your dad are settling into your new place.”
“We are. It needs a few more renovations, but taking care of it will be a cinch after the Lazy S. Eventually we’ll have room for Wes if he ever decides to move out of that apartment.”
“Thanks, but that won’t be happening.” Wes was relaxed in the saddle, his left hand holding the reins and his right resting on his thigh. “I wake up in the morning and smell delicious things baking and amazing coffee brewing. I’m only steps away from food and drink fit for the gods. Why would I give that up to batch it with you guys?”
“I take it that’s a no.”
“That’s a hell, no. But that reminds me. I’m starving. Will there be food at the park?”
“You bet,” Ingrid said. “I’m hungry, too. The diner sets up a food tent and serves meals and snacks from mid-morning to mid-afternoon. The GG takes over after that.”
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