Catching the Cowboy_A Royal Brothers Novel

by Liz Isaacson

  He sighed a happy sigh, seeing all the different pieces of his life coming together. “What should I name my dog?” he asked.

  They tossed names back and forth, and finally she said, “I don’t know. You’ve rejected everything I’ve said,” in a surly tone. She turned into a parking lot with one weak lamp in the middle of it.

  Dylan sat up straight and scanned the area. “Are you sure there’s a restaurant here?”

  “It’s a barbeque joint,” she said, killing the engine and getting out. “Not a restaurant.” She grinned at him. “What about Titan?”

  “Titan?”

  She stared at him straight-faced. “For the dog?”

  “Oh.” He startled, his brain whirring through topics like a Tasmanian devil. “You know, I kinda like Titan.”

  “Hallelujah,” she said in a dry voice and she got out of the truck. Dylan hurried to follow her, catching her around the waist at the front of the truck.

  “Are you really annoyed about the dog name?” he asked, holding her close and swaying with her to the distant beat of the music beating from behind the door.

  She softened in his arms, and whatever had her silent earlier had disappeared. “Of course not.” She stretched up and kissed him quick. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  The atmosphere inside the barbeque joint was unlike anything he’d seen on a Tuesday night. It smelled like meat, and grease, and tangy barbeque sauce, and Dylan’s mouth started to water.

  It was mostly dark, except for the stage, which was raised two feet off the floor and brightly lit. Low lamps hung from the ceiling over the other tables, which were about half occupied.

  It was much too loud inside for the number of people, because tonight’s band featured four men dressed in skinny jeans and black T-shirts, wailing into the mics in front of them.

  “Twisted Calfskin,” Hazel said like she knew this band, and Dylan looked at her.

  “Excuse me? You listen to this?”

  She pointed across the distance. “See the guy at the drums? I went out with him once.”

  Dylan knew she’d been out with a lot of men once, so he didn’t think too much of it. “But you like their music?”

  “Heavens, no.” She smiled at the man who greeted them and held up two fingers.

  “They’re almost done,” he assured them in a booming voice and led them toward the back of the place, away from the stage.

  It was slightly quieter back here, and if Dylan hadn’t seen the three-meat platter, he may have suggested they go somewhere else. But sure enough Twisted Calfskin packed up their screechy mics and amps, guitars and drum set after only one more song, leaving behind blessed silence.

  The food came quickly, and Dylan had never tasted brisket so tender. “What’s in this stuff?” he asked, picking up the bottle of barbeque sauce labeled with just a single chili pepper. It was spicy, and sweet, and savory all at the same time. He dripped some more onto his pulled pork. He couldn’t get enough.

  “I told you I’ve never left here disappointed.” She grinned at him and lifted a pork rib to her lips.

  Finally satiated, Dylan drained the last of his soda and leaned back in his chair. “You never told me what you thought of the ranch.”

  Hazel met his gaze with trepidation in hers, which set his nerves humming.

  “Say it,” he said. “Whatever you’re thinking. You can tell me.” He folded his arms and set his jaw as a brace against whatever she might say.

  “I liked the ranch,” she said carefully, obviously choosing her words with care. “I don’t quite know where…well, where I fit on that ranch.”

  Dylan blinked, the only reaction he dared to show. But beneath his ribs, his heart started crashing around. And his mind raced with thoughts like, With me, sweetheart. You belong with me on that ranch. And You don’t think you belong out there? Or There’s nowhere for us at Grape Seed, that’s for sure.

  He said nothing. Just watched her as her big golden eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Not really sadness. Not disappointment. Probably just nervous to admit to him how she was really feeling.

  “It’ll be a big adjustment,” he finally said when she didn’t elaborate.

  “I imagine so, yes.” She picked up her napkin and started shredding it. “What’s the next step?”

  “Financing,” he said. “Shane’s meeting with John’s realtor in the morning, and he’s going to help us with a loan officer.”

  “Things could move quickly then.”

  He hated that she wouldn’t look at him. “Possibly.” He leaned back into the table and reached across it to still her hands by covering them with both of his. “What’s really going on?”

  She lifted one shoulder, that pretty blouse rippling with the movement. “I don’t know.”

  “Sure you do.”

  He finally lifted her eyes to meet his. “Look who’s saying uncomfortable things now.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” he said. “But yeah, I like how you’ve been so direct with me. A man can change.”

  “I’m sure he can.”

  “So?” he pressed. “What’s really the problem?”

  “I just—” She swallowed, and Dylan felt a storm coming, and he didn’t like it.

  “It’s a big ranch,” she said. “With a lot to get done in a short amount of time. I feel like I’m going to get lost. Left behind.”

  Dylan let her words sink into his ears, run through his mind. He didn’t know how to respond, because she had spoken true. Triple Towers was a very big ranch. With so much to do, he couldn’t even think about all of it without becoming completely overwhelmed.

  “I don’t want you behind me,” Dylan finally said. “I want you right beside me.”

  “I’ve never lived or worked on a ranch,” she said simply.

  “I’ll teach you.”

  She regarded him with shutters over her eyes. “What are you saying?”

  He didn’t know, trying to sort through how he felt. Yes, he liked Hazel. A lot. But was he in love with her? It was far too soon for that. Right? He shook his head, his phone brightening and chiming.

  He pulled his hands back and picked up the device, regretting the choice as soon as he saw who had texted. “It’s my dad,” he said.

  “Oh?”

  He didn’t miss the incredulity in her voice. He felt it racing through him too. “Yeah, he texts from time to time.” This time it said Hey! Austin mentioned something about you three buying a ranch?

  Frustration colored this near-perfect meal, and it didn’t have anything to do with Hazel’s troubling words. His dad had a special way of ruining the best of situations, and Dylan cursed his younger brother for thinking he could involve their father in these types of things.

  He turned the phone over and focused back on Hazel.

  “You’re not going to respond?”

  “No.” He’d told her the long story out at the cabin, and he felt no need to get into it again. There was something much bigger at play here, between the two of them, and Dylan didn’t want to give priority to the man who had abandoned him. Not over Hazel.

  In fact, he couldn’t envision himself putting much of anything over Hazel, but he couldn’t quite vocalize that, even though he had gotten better at saying hard things.

  His phone buzzed, and he growled as he flipped it over and silenced it completely.

  “Maybe you should talk to him,” she said.

  “I don’t want to talk to him,” Dylan said. “I want to talk to you. Or rather, I want you to talk to me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Hazel trekked out to Grape Seed Ranch again on Saturday, the last few days uneventful in the physical sense. But she was exhausted mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. She’d managed to convince Dylan that she was okay—just feeling her way through a new situation—at Blue’s Street on Tuesday.

  So she’d gone to work. Cluttered up her newly cleaned desk again. Walked Milo and Monty. And stopped and lo
oked at that salon chair more in three days than she had in the past three years.

  She’d been happy with the salon in her home, though it was simple and she didn’t make truckloads of money. She thought about Dylan sitting in it as she trimmed his coppery blond hair, and then Mildred Berneau and the other ladies she used to chat with when they came to her salon.

  Would anyone make a thirty-minute drive to get their hair set? That was about when Hazel turned away from the salon chair and went to work. She did her best to ignore it when she got home in the evenings, but it was always there, taunting her.

  She pulled up to Dylan’s cabin, but he wasn’t sitting on the steps waiting for her like he had been the last few times. She went to the door and knocked, but no one answered. So she took his place on his front steps and texted him.

  Coming came his reply several seconds later. The front door on Kurt and May’s cabin opened, and someone came out onto the porch. Hazel could just see the top of his cowboy hat under the eaves, and her body reacted physically. She did really like him. And it was more than a racing pulse and the promise of kiss. It was a softening in her emotional barriers, the absence of so many confusing thoughts. He calmed her and excited her at the same time, and she had no idea how, or why, or what it meant.

  He spoke in a low voice to Greta, whose whimpers carried across the grass between them. He bent and collected something, then his boots clunked as he came down the stairs and she rose to meet him when he crossed the lawn.

  “She’s gonna come with us,” he said, carrying a child’s car seat. “Is that okay?”

  Hazel sure did enjoy the sight of this tall, tough cowboy carrying a one-year-old baby. Dark-haired and chubby-cheeked Greta regarded Hazel with watery eyes.

  “If you know how to put that car seat in,” she said, reaching up to smooth Greta’s fuzzy curls back. She smelled like powder and flowers and everything soft a baby should smell like. Hazel hadn’t given tons of thought to having children, but the need exploded through her now.

  And not just anyone’s children. She wanted dark blond babies like Dylan. Her heart really pumped then, because what was she supposed to do with that craving? Did she love him? She sure liked a lot of things about him, including his kind heart and his work ethic and his loyalty and dedication to his brothers.

  “You okay?” he asked, smoothing her hair back this time.

  She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly, and said, “Yeah, I’m okay.” Their eyes met, and Hazel let herself release all her pent-up confusion and frustration. Whether he could read it in her eyes or not, she didn’t know. He certainly saw something, because concern entered his expression as he swept one arm around her waist and drew her into a half embrace, with Greta on his right hip.

  “C’mon,” she said, hoping to play off the moment as something lighter than it was. “Let’s go get your dog.”

  The next several minutes passed while he wrestled with the car seat and she played with Greta on the front lawn. Joy filled her at the wonder the little girl experienced with simply pushing a ball back and forth. Soon enough, her cries had turned into giggles, and Dylan had her seat ready.

  He scooped her up with a laugh, causing Greta to shriek and gut-laugh in only a way a baby could. He strapped her into the seat, which sat right next to the passenger window, and he turned back to Hazel.

  “I couldn’t get it to go in the middle. Want me to drive and you can ride next to me?”

  “Sure.” She handed over her keys, and they piled into the truck. Ten easy minutes later, they arrived back at the ranch that Dylan and his brothers would be buying soon. The paperwork had been started, and now it was just a matter of time to get all the financial documents in order.

  “Oh, Dwayne said we could have Dean and Chadwell,” he said as he got out of the car.

  Hazel worked the buckles on the car seat and removed Greta, twisting to pass her off to Dylan. “That’s great. I can’t believe he’s giving up two of his cowboys, but I suppose it’s up to them where they work.”

  Dylan clamped his lips together and nodded. His eyes roamed the road that struck east, forming the crossroads and epicenter of the ranch several hundred yards down. “Dwayne’s a good man.”

  He extended his hand to help her out and they faced the homestead together. In that moment, that single heartbeat, Hazel saw a whole future of them facing challenges and unexpected problems and the best of times. Together.

  Then he walked toward the front door, leaving her to wonder if he felt the same about her, if he wanted to spend forever with her, if he was willing to build a life with her the way he seemed so willing to rebuild this ranch.

  Twenty minutes later, she sat behind the wheel while Dylan juggled the eight-week-old German shepherd pup, a chuckle coming from him every few seconds. “Hold still, bud,” he said, but the dog didn’t quite know how.

  They had a scraggly blanket in the back of the truck, along with a gallon-sized zipper bag of dog food Shayleigh had been feeding the puppies, two toys, and his paperwork. Dylan cooed at the dog the same way he did Greta, and again, Hazel liked it.

  Once back at the ranch, he took Greta and Titan in his cabin, where the back corner behind the dining table had been sectioned off with a couple of homemade gates. He put Titan in the square, which also had a bowl of water and an empty bowl for the food. He poured some in, talking to the dog all the while.

  “Shane’ll be home soon, and then you’ll meet Cinna,” he told Titan. “She’s a great dog, so you have to learn from her. Do what she does.” He turned to find Greta reaching for the remote control to the television and he darted toward her. “Nope. Not that, Little Miss.” He grinned at her and picked her up. “Should we go see if your mama is feeling better?”

  “May’s sick?” Hazel looked in the direction of the other cabin as if she could see through walls.

  “Caught a summer cold. Didn’t sleep last night. Kurt’s out on some task with Dwayne on the east edge of the ranch, and I told May I’d take Greta for an hour or two so she could sleep.”

  Someone knocked on the door, and Dylan called for them to come in. Dean entered, followed by two more cowboys. Gabe and Chadwell, if Hazel remembered right, and she wasn’t entirely sure she had.

  The German shepherd abandoned his food and put his front paws up on the chicken wire as the men came closer. “You got ‘im,” Dean said, glancing at Dylan. He grinned at him and then met Hazel’s eye. “Oh, hello, ma’am.” His smile was quick and genuine, and Hazel returned it.

  “Okay, let me take Greta” she said, stepping over to Dylan. She took the girl from him and carried her into the kitchen. “You hungry, baby?” When had she started cooing at this tiny human the way Dylan did? She glanced over to him, but he was absorbed with his friends and his dog—thankfully.

  She opened the fridge and pulled out what looked like leftover spaghetti. Dylan couldn’t have made this, but she figured it was free to eat. After a minute-long spin in the microwave, she cut up pieces of noodles and let Greta use her fingers to eat them.

  The cabin was small, true. Only one bedroom and the loft. But with her, the baby, Dylan, his friends, and the dog, it felt like a little corner of heaven, where she wanted to live. A feeling descended upon her she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Contentment.

  She didn’t need a new job. She didn’t need a date every other night. She didn’t need a big house in the center of town that everyone could see.

  She needed a family. People who cared about her and put her at the top of their priority list. Dylan met her eyes, a broad smile on his face to match his impossibly wide shoulders.

  And she knew in that moment that she’d fallen in love with him.

  Monday presented her with a new case on the outskirts of Austin, and she texted Dylan on her way out of town. She spent a few days there, talking to residents and trying to find evidence of the cougar they swear they’d seen.

  She never saw it, and in the past, she might have w
ritten off the eyewitness accounts of the mountain lion. However, she’d seen such a creature, and it had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

  She returned in time for the weekend, but when she texted Dylan, he said he and his brothers had decided to go visit their mother in San Antonio. So Hazel turned to Jason and McKayla, determined not to stay home alone just because her boyfriend had family plans.

  Hazel used to dress up and go out all the time. She liked it. Of course, she liked it more when the handsome man on the other side of the door was Dylan, but when Jason beeped the horn and Hazel bounded down the steps to join him in the car with a healthy smile on her face.

  “Where’s McKayla?” she asked, leaning into the passenger side without climbing in.

  “Got called in for an emergency.”

  “On Friday night?” Hazel opened the door and got in the car.

  “Tourist broke down. Was desperate and called her after-hours number. You know she can’t resist the money.” He chuckled as he pulled away from the curb.

  “And you’re not at the shop tonight?”

  “I hired two twenty-somethings to do the evening shifts,” he said. “Male and female.” He cut her a grin. “They get along great, if you know what I mean.”

  Hazel laughed with him and relaxed into the headrest, a sigh slipping from her mouth. “So it’s me and you tonight? Grilled cheese at the movie theater?”

  “Ew, no,” he said. “If you want a grilled cheese, let’s go make one in the back of the shop.”

  “I want to see a movie,” she said. “We can get dinner there.”

  “The only thing I’ll eat is pizza at the theater.”

  “Snob.” She pushed against his arm, enjoying the playfulness they’d always had as friends. “I’ll buy the food if you buy the tickets.”

  “Deal.” He drove a few more blocks before hitting weekend traffic, which would soon worsen as they flocked to town for the summer season. “So, where’s Dylan this wonderful Friday night?”