Her Secret Cowboy

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Her Secret Cowboy Page 15

by Marin Thomas


  “I’m driving up to Phoenix to see the home and building expo at West World. You’re welcome to ride along, but I thought you’d rather stay in town and be with Ryan.” Ben removed his tool belt. “How’s the rocket coming along?”

  “We’re about a third of the way done.” Ryan had coaxed Will into staying up until two in the morning to work on the model after they’d returned from the fishing pond. They’d finally called it quits when Porter had come home from one of his hot dates.

  Will packed his tools away. “Do you want to work on Sunday after the church service lets out?”

  “We’re a week ahead of schedule. Monday’s soon enough.”

  Will and Ben spent the next hour cleaning the area before they quit for the day. Will waited for Ryan to come outside and talk to him, but he never showed so Will drove off. When he reached the highway he headed to the Triple D Ranch. He needed advice and he trusted only one of his brothers to give it to him straight—Johnny. He’d rather vent to Johnny than sit at the farm on a Friday night and think about Marsha and Ryan.

  When he parked in front of the foreman’s cabin, he noticed Johnny’s vehicle next to the barn. A bale of hay flew out of the hayloft window and Will hollered at his brother. “Johnny!”

  “C’mon up.”

  Will entered the barn and climbed the ladder to the loft. His brother sat on a bale, guzzling from a water bottle. “Hotter ’n hell today,” Johnny said.

  Will sat down across from Johnny. “How’s Addy doing?”

  “She turned a month old yesterday.” Johnny finished his water. “She’s colicky, but I discovered how to get her to stop crying.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “You can’t tell a soul.” Johnny lowered his voice. “I put Addy on the mechanical bull.”

  “No way.”

  Johnny grinned. “You should see her eyes when the thing starts up—as big as an owl’s.”

  “No kidding.”

  “She likes the swaying motion.” Johnny’s expression sobered. “Scares me to death to think about it, Will, but I’m almost certain Addy’s going to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a roughstock rider.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with adding a few strong women to our family tree.” Marsha would make a great addition to the Cash clan.

  “How are things between you and Ryan?” Johnny asked.

  “Good. We went fishing at the pond last weekend.” He wasn’t ready to tell his brothers yet that his son was tutoring him in reading.

  “Catch anything?”

  “The old catfish that’s been living in the muck for the past two years,” Will said.

  “You two didn’t eat him, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Conway wants to keep him in there, because he’s the only fish the twins ever catch.”

  Enough beating around the bush. “Johnny, I need your advice.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Pastor Bugler warned me to keep my distance from Marsha and Ryan.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Will appreciated his brother’s outrage, but they weren’t in elementary school anymore and Johnny didn’t have to fight off the bullies for Will.

  Johnny grimaced. “Pastor Bugler said you weren’t good enough for his daughter and Ryan, because you’re a Cash.”

  “Mom tossed us all under the bus when she got pregnant by every Tom, Dick and Harry in Arizona.”

  “What did Marsha say about all this?”

  “I didn’t tell her about her father’s talk with me.”

  “She’s not trying to keep you from seeing Ryan, is she?”

  “No one’s going to stop me from being with my son.” Will removed his cowboy hat.

  “Okay, if Ryan’s not the problem then...” Johnny’s mouth widened into a grin. “It’s Marsha, isn’t it?”

  Will nodded. “It’s complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “We went out on a date a couple of weeks ago and...things got out of hand.”

  Johnny quirked an eyebrow. “How out of hand?”

  When Will glanced away, Johnny chuckled. “Was it good?”

  “Knock it off. No one got in your grill when you started sleeping with Shannon.”

  “Okay, you had sex with Marsha and that part was all good. Then what happened?”

  “She said it wasn’t the right time for us to be together.”

  “What are you going to do?” Johnny asked

  “What else can I do, but honor her wishes and keep my distance?”

  Johnny shook his head. “Do you think her father got to her, too?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you ask her?”

  No, he hadn’t. But what if Marsha and her father had gotten into a fight over him? How could he hold it against her if she’d gone along with the pastor’s wishes? He stood. “I better go.”

  “So you’re giving in and letting her old man call the shots in your relationship?”

  “What am I’m supposed to do, Johnny?” He stormed to the other end of the loft. “I can’t come between Marsha and her father—the man’s dying of cancer.”

  “Hey, I’m not a cold heartless bastard. I’m sure it’s tough on Marsha and Ryan knowing they’re going to lose their father and grandfather, but it’s not their job to convince the pastor that you’re good enough for them.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You have to change Pastor Bugler’s mind about you.”

  “If I piss the old man off he might turn Ryan against me.”

  “So you’re going to sacrifice your own happiness with Marsha and Ryan because deep down you don’t really believe you’re good enough for them, do you?” Johnny said.

  The blood drained from Will’s face. Was he taking the easy way out because he didn’t believe he deserved to be Marsha’s husband or Ryan’s father? Was he making excuses for himself and accepting the pastor’s interference rather than trying to prove he deserved a second chance with the two people who’d come to mean the most to him?

  “I don’t know where to begin to win over Pastor Bugler,” Will said.

  “You could start by going to church.”

  He gaped at Johnny. “That’s the last place Marsha’s father wants to see me.”

  “Are you sure? He’s a man of God, Will. Maybe he needs a little reassurance that your heart is in the right place before he believes your intentions toward his daughter and Ryan are sincere.”

  Johnny made it sound simple—as if attending a church service was all it would take to win the old man over. A relationship with God wouldn’t erase who his mother was or what she’d done. And God couldn’t make his birth father claim him as his son or fix Will’s dyslexia and send him to college.

  “Church is about faith,” Johnny said. “Give Pastor Bugler a reason to have faith in you.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Let’s get out of this oven.” Johnny descended the ladder first, then said, “Shannon wants to baptize Addy and Dixie wants Nate baptized, too.”

  “What church?” Will asked.

  “Don’t know. Maybe I’ll mention Pastor Bugler to Shannon and see what she thinks.” Johnny slapped Will’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t hurt to have family sitting in the pews with you.”

  “Say hi to Shannon.” During the drive to the farm, Will mulled over his brother’s advice. When he pulled up to the bunkhouse, he’d made a decision. Johnny was right—like he was most of the time—Will had to give Pastor Bugler a reason to believe he was the best man for his daughter and grandson.

  He’d go to church Sunday.

  * * *

  “LOOK, MOM.” RYAN POINTED behind their pew Sunday morning.
r />   Marsha peeked over her shoulder and thanked God she was already sitting down. What in the world was Will doing in her father’s church?

  “Can he sit with us?” Ryan asked.

  How could she say no? “Sure.”

  Ryan left the pew and a moment later appeared with Will by his side.

  “Hello, Marsha.” He flashed his bad-boy smile.

  “Good morning, Will.” Aware of the churchgoers staring at them, she scooted over, thinking Ryan would sit next to her, but Will claimed the seat. The scent of his cologne spawned a mental vision of Will sliding his hand up her naked thigh and she fanned her face with the program. Good grief. She had no business thinking about sex in God’s house.

  “Hey, Dad,” Ryan said, loud enough to draw attention to them. “What are you doing after church?”

  “How would you like to go for a trail ride out at the Black Jack Mountain Dude Ranch?” Will asked.

  “I’ve never ridden a horse.” Ryan peeked around Will and spoke to Marsha. “You want to go, Mom?”

  Marsha didn’t immediately answer—she was still wincing after Ryan had called Will Dad out loud. She wasn’t sure how many people her parents had told about Will; she suspected not many. She had a feeling the pastor’s daughter and Willie Nelson Cash would be the topic of conversation at the parishioners’ dinner tables later today. “We’ll talk about it after the service, Ryan.”

  The organist began playing and the choir—with her mother in the lead—walked through a side door and took their places behind the pulpit. After they lined up, Marsha’s mother made eye contact with her and smiled. When her gaze shifted to Will, she stopped singing, but recovered quickly and looked at Marsha with shocked eyes. Toward the end of the hymn, her father entered the sanctuary and gave the signal for the parishioners to stand then recited the opening prayer.

  Following the prayer, her father read a list of church announcements. Then the choir sang again. As was his custom, her father glanced through the pews, making eye contact with all the churchgoers. When he got to Marsha’s pew and noticed Will, his mouth pressed into a thin line and he visibly struggled to control his reaction. Marsha felt horrible that both her parents had been caught off guard today.

  “Many of you have been asking when the new classroom wing will be ready for the children. Today, one of the men responsible for the construction project has joined us.” Her father nodded to Will. “Perhaps William Cash would be willing to offer an update on the progress?”

  Will tensed and Marsha thought he might refuse, but then he stood. He nodded to the folks seated near them. “Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the new wing should be ready soon. We’re waiting on the flooring for the bathrooms, then we’ll paint the walls and install the carpet.” Will sat down.

  “Thank you, William.” Her father delivered his sermon—so far the longest twenty minutes of Marsha’s morning.

  Once the lecture ended, the choir sang two hymns as the donation plates were passed through the pews. When the plate arrived at Will’s side, he added a twenty-dollar bill—her father couldn’t find fault with Will’s generosity. She added ten dollars, then passed the plate on.

  After the collection, Marsha’s father recited the final prayer before walking to the front doors. The parishioners filed out of the pews, beginning at the front of the church. After the first six rows emptied, Marsha clutched Will’s arm. “Let’s wait for the church to clear out.”

  “Are we going riding this afternoon?” Ryan asked.

  She glanced at Will. “Sure, you can go.” Her father slept all afternoon after Sunday services.

  “Are you coming, Mom?” Ryan asked.

  She hadn’t been officially invited. “I think your father wants to spend the day with you.”

  “I’d like for all of us to go,” Will said.

  Marsha’s heart skipped a beat, though she told herself that Will was being nice to her because Ryan was present. She doubted he’d have invited her otherwise.

  “Thank you, but—”

  “Do you have other plans?” Will asked.

  “No.”

  “Have you ever been to Black Jack Mountain?”

  “No,” she said. But that’s as far as the conversation got before her father approached them. And he wasn’t smiling.

  “What a surprise seeing you in one of my pews, William.”

  “Pastor Bugler.” Will stood and offered his hand. “I enjoyed the sermon.”

  “Grandpa, we’re going to a dude ranch. You want to come along?”

  “You’re more than welcome to join us,” Will said.

  “No, thank you.” Marsha’s father spoke to her. “I thought you were helping your mother cook the Sunday meal? Aren’t we having guests tonight?”

  Every Sunday her father invited a family from the church to share supper with him and Marsha’s mother. “I helped Mom with the potato salad this morning. All you have to do is put the hamburgers on the grill.”

  Her father’s mouth turned down but he didn’t challenge her. “When will you be home?”

  “I don’t know.” She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but if Will had had the courage to attend church, then she could show some spine and not let her father intimidate her.

  “We’ll probably catch a bite to eat afterward,” Will said.

  “Be careful.” Her father stared Will in the eye. “Neither Ryan or Marsha knows how to ride a horse. See that they don’t get hurt.”

  “I will, sir.”

  Once her father exited the church, Marsha swore she heard the air from Will’s lungs escape in a loud rush. “Give us fifteen minutes to change clothes,” she said.

  Will waited beneath the shade of a paloverde tree. He prayed he’d made the right decision in asking Marsha to join him and Ryan for a horseback ride. After talking with Johnny, he didn’t want to believe that what he and Marsha had shared meant so little to her.

  What if you’re wrong? What if she doesn’t love you?

  Then I move on.

  Which wouldn’t be easy when he looked into his son’s blue eyes and saw Marsha.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How long has Mack worked at the dude ranch?” Marsha asked when Will turned off the main highway onto the road leading to the property.

  “A little over a year.” Will glanced in the rearview mirror—Ryan remained occupied with his e-reader. As soon as they’d gotten into the truck, the teen had turned on the device after telling Will he’d downloaded a book detailing the history of the Arizona dude ranch. The out-of-the-way guest ranch was located sixty miles south of the pecan farm along the Mexican border.

  “Mack knows a lot more about the history of the place,” Will said.

  “It was once a mission outpost for Jesuit priests over 300 years ago,” Ryan said. “This book says there’s a famous adobe building that they use as a dance hall for the ranch guests.”

  “I’m looking forward to a tour,” Marsha said.

  For a woman who’d suggested they cool things off between them, Marsha didn’t appear uncomfortable in his presence. Too bad Will wasn’t as calm—his gut was twisted in knots. He shifted in his seat, hoping his plan today would go off without a hitch. He pointed out the windshield when they reached the guest parking area. “That’s the dance hall.”

  Ryan put his e-reader away. “How long is the ride?”

  “I’m not sure.” Will didn’t want to reveal the arrangement he’d worked out with Mack until after they’d parked and met up with his brother. They walked toward the cast-iron bell guests were allowed to ring when Mack emerged from the barn.

  “Been waiting for you three.” Mack shook hands with Will, passing him a key in the exchange. “Nice to see you, Marsha.” He switched his attention to his nephew. “Ryan, wait until you see the h
orse I picked out for you to ride.”

  “I’ve never ridden before,” Ryan said.

  “That’s why I chose Warrior. He’s a pro in the desert.”

  Ryan cracked a smile. “Warrior doesn’t sound like the name of a gentle horse.”

  “He’s the best we’ve got. The snakes don’t scare him.” Mack glanced between Will and Marsha. “C’mon, Ryan. I’ll show you the horses, they’re all named after rodeo clowns.”

  When Marsha stepped forward, Will caught her hand. “I’ve got different plans for us while Ryan’s out riding.”

  Marsha smiled. “What are you up to, Will Cash?”

  “When I spoke to Mack about the possibility of bringing you two today, he mentioned that a family vacationing here has a thirteen-year-old daughter, who loves to read as much as Ryan does. Her parents haven’t been able to entice her out of their guest cabin all week.”

  “Mack’s doing a little matchmaking,” she said.

  “He thought the kids might enjoy each other’s company.”

  “What’s the girl’s name?”

  “Amanda Stevens. Her father’s an international businessman and her mother’s a concert pianist.” Will grinned. “Amanda wants to be an astronaut.”

  Marsha laughed. “They should hit it off then.”

  “Mack thought so. That means you and I have time to ourselves.”

  “To do what?” She struggled to keep a straight face.

  “You’ll see.” Will took Marsha’s hand, the muscles in his shoulders relaxing when she didn’t resist his touch. So far, so good. He took the path that wound through the property and ended in front of a cabin nestled against a rocky incline.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Keep it cool and casual. He slid his hand into his pants pocket and his fingertips touched the ring nestled in the cotton lining. “We have the use of the cabin while Ryan’s on the trail.” Ignoring Marsha’s wide-eyed gaze, he slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

 

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