Roping in the Cowgirl

by Judy Duarte

  About fifty yards beyond the barn sat an unattached garage, its door raised. If he’d seen a ranch pickup or a John Deere tractor parked inside, it wouldn’t have struck him as out of the ordinary.

  Instead, he spotted someone working on a classic T-bird. The car itself was enough to command his attention, but what really piqued his interest was the “someone” bent over the engine wearing a pair of tight jeans that hugged her shapely hips.

  In spite of his plan to scope out the ranch, he studied the woman for a moment, intrigued by her nicely rounded backside.

  As if suddenly sensing his appreciative perusal, she straightened and looked over her shoulder.

  Well, what do you know? It was Nurse Shannon, who seemed to be as surprised to see Blake as he was to see her.

  A few strands of dark hair had come lose from her ponytail. Yet what really drew his eye was the way her snug black T-shirt molded to her upper body, revealing a curvy, feminine shape. The T-shirt was a heck of a lot more flattering than the baggy scrubs she’d worn the past few days.

  Her hands, or rather her fingers, were dirty from the work she’d been doing on the car. She brushed them together, then wiped them on her denim-clad hips and said a casual “Hello.”

  When Blake had gathered his wits and hog-tied his hormones, he asked, “What are you doing?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and cast him a frown. “Don’t worry. I’m not being lax on the job. It’s my day off.”

  “I know. I met the other day nurse at breakfast.” Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought he owed her an apology. So he made his way toward her.

  “That’s a great car,” he said, checking out the 1957 classic. “Does it run?”

  “Not yet, but it will.”

  She was full of surprises. Even in work clothes and with a smudge of grease on her face, she was attractive.

  “So,” he said, trying his darnedest to shake off her mounting appeal, “you not only heal the sick and wounded, you refurbish old cars, too.”

  She shrugged a single shoulder. “It’s sort of a hobby, I guess. When I moved to an apartment in town, I didn’t have any place to store it. So Chloe let me keep it here.”

  “You’re a woman of many talents.” He meant it as a compliment, but her skeptical expression suggested she wasn’t buying it.

  “Actually,” she said, “this car was my father’s project. He died before he could finish it.”

  “So you’re completing it for him.” As a tribute and a memorial, he suspected. It was an easy conclusion to come to, and he couldn’t help but admire her for it.

  “By the way,” he said, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was rude yesterday. My uncle called me out on it, and I told Joy I was sorry. I owe you an apology, too.”

  Her expression softened. “You’re forgiven. I hope you and your uncle have worked out your differences. You’re a nicer guy to be around when you’re not cranky.”

  He smiled. Then without revealing his motive, he continued to close the gap between them. In spite of his interest in the vintage vehicle, the nurse intrigued him more.

  “So,” he said, “thanks to your father, you’re a woman of many talents.”

  “He taught me a lot when I was growing up.” She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, the lobe boasting a pearl stud. “How about you? What are you up to this morning?”

  “I was taking a walk. When I noticed the garage door was up, I thought I’d stop and take a look. It’s amazing what you’ve done so far.”

  At that, she finally smiled. He had to admit that it felt pretty darn good to be on the receiving end of it. He continued to study those expressive green eyes, the splatter of freckles on her nose. Even with a smudge of grease on her face and messy hair, she was more appealing than most women. At that realization, his lips quirked into a grin.

  Shannon was the first to break eye contact and turn away. She lowered the T-Bird’s hood, snapping it shut.

  “Are you done working on it for today?” he asked.

  “I hadn’t planned to be, but I bought the wrong spark plugs. So now I’ll have to drive to the auto parts store and order some new ones.”

  “Since that’s the case, why don’t you join me on my walk?”

  She seemed to ponder the unexpected suggestion. Finally she said, “Sure. Why not? Just give me a minute to clean the grease from my hands.”

  “Wait.” He reached out and, using his thumb, swiped at the smudge on her face.

  At his touch, her breath caught and her lips parted.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help doing that.” He was feeling a little surprised himself.

  Her cheeks flushed to a rosy hue, and she fingered the side of her head, behind her ear, where she’d tucked that loose strand of hair just moments before. “I must be a mess.”

  Actually, Blake thought she looked pretty damned cute. Not that he’d mention it. Why throw out a compliment she might misconstrue, one he couldn’t possibly follow up on?

  “You look fine,” he said. “I’ll wait here while you wash your hands.”

  Shannon had no more than disappeared into the barn’s rear entrance when Sam spotted Blake and headed toward him.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” his uncle said.

  “What’s up?”

  “A buddy of mine has a problem and needs your help. His family wants him to move to Arkansas, and they’ve been pressuring him to leave the Rocking C. He’s afraid they’ll go behind his back and talk to his doctor.”

  “Okay, but I’m not sure what I can do to help.” Blake understood a family’s concern when it came to having an elderly relative who wasn’t in the best of health.

  “He needs legal advice, and he doesn’t have a lot of cash, so he can’t afford an attorney on his own. I thought you could talk to him and maybe offer him some peace of mind.”

  Under the circumstances, Blake found himself siding with the man’s family, although he’d be damned if he’d mention that and re-create any issues he’d once had with his uncle.

  He probably ought to suggest the man contact one of several agencies that offered free legal advice, but mentioning that alternative also could jeopardize the tenuous truce he and Sam had reached. “I suppose I could talk to him. What’s his name?”

  “Rex Mayberry. You can usually find him rocking away on the front porch every afternoon and criticizing my new hands. But he took a fall yesterday and has been sticking close to the house.”

  “I know who Rex is.” And if anything, Blake would encourage him to listen to his family and consider a move. But he wouldn’t say anything to Sam about that. Not when he planned to try and convince his uncle to return to California with him for the same reason Rex’s family wanted him to be closer to them. “I’m not sure how much good it will do. He seems pretty stubborn. But I’ll talk to him.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that. Now I’d better check on my new hands before Rex gets wind of any of their perceived shortcomings and raises hell with me for hiring them again.”

  The two men shared a smile, then Sam turned and walked away. He’d barely reached the corral, when Shannon came out of the barn. She’d washed her hands and face. She’d also combed her hair and had woven it into a stylish twist.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “I didn’t have a route or a game plan in mind. Why don’t you give me a tour of the ranch?”

  She studied him a moment, as though he’d gone daft, then a slow smile slid across her face, sparking a glimmer in her eyes. “All right. Let’s start with the vegetable garden.”

  Blake couldn’t see that as a point of interest, but he walked beside her and watched as she pointed out the fenced-in area that protected long rows of various plants, where one of the elderly residents was tying up tomato vines.

  Curious about the elderly gardener, Blake asked, “Who’s that?”

  “His name is Gerald McInerny, but everyone calls him Mac. He enjoys being outdoors and te
nding the garden. Thanks to his green thumb and Joy’s skill in the kitchen, we can count on having lots of healthy and tasty local produce in our meals.”

  Mac, who wore a red long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dirt-stained overalls, glanced up and waved at Shannon. Then, after stretching out the kinks in his back, he returned to his work.

  “Come on,” Shannon said, “I want to show you something else.”

  She led him to the corral, where a young hand worked with a yearling. About twenty feet to the left, several lawn chairs had been set up on a patch of grass. Two elderly men, one wearing a veteran’s cap and the other a battered Stetson, sat together, watching the cowboy.

  “That’s Dennis and Ralph,” Shannon said. “If we stay here long enough, you’ll hear them shout out instructions and criticisms every now and again.”

  “Actually, I’ve already had the pleasure of watching Rex do that same thing a couple of days ago.”

  Shannon lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, which had moved out from behind a gray cloud. “Normally, Rex would be out here with them—if he hadn’t fallen yesterday.”

  “Sam told me about that. Is he doing okay?”

  “He’s a little bruised and battered, so he’s moving pretty slow. But he’s on the mend. Still, I’m keeping an eye on him.”

  Blake and Shannon continued to walk along a pathway that led away from the house and yard.

  “Do you know anything about Rex’s family wanting him to move to Arkansas?” Blake asked.

  “Yes, but he’s determined to stay on the Rocking C. That’s why he’s always fought me on seeing the doctor.”

  That was one more reason for the man to move closer to his family. If he refused to seek medical care, he wasn’t taking care of himself. “Wouldn’t Rex be better off near the people who love him?”

  “Maybe. But shouldn’t he have a say in where he lives?”

  “Not if his health is at risk—or his mental capacity is slipping.”

  “As far as Rex is concerned, we’re taking good care of him here. And while he has some issues with his balance and his health, he’s pretty sharp.”

  “But family is important.”

  Shannon stopped, her abrupt motion causing Blake to slow his steps. “You don’t have to tell me how important it is. I don’t have any siblings, and I’ve lost both of my parents. But even then, I wouldn’t insist that my aunt move to Timbuktu when she clearly didn’t want to go.”

  “Arkansas isn’t halfway across the world.”

  “It might as well be—if you ask Rex. Besides, there’s a lot more behind the story. His relatives insisted that his brother move so they could take care of him. But they took it too far.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They kept him on life support much longer than they should have, at least that’s what Rex said. And he’s afraid they won’t let him die with dignity.”

  “Then I can understand why he’d be worried.”

  They walked along, their thoughts to themselves.

  Moments later, Shannon slowed to a stop and asked, “Have you ever been to other retirement homes or assisted living complexes?”

  “Yes and no.” He didn’t want to admit that Carol, his administrative assistant, had done the visiting. He’d only looked over the brochures of the places she’d culled out for him. “When my aunt and uncle retired and sold their ranch, I’d wanted them to move to California to be closer to me. That way I could look out for them easier. So I was doing some online research, but they chose to move to that assisted living complex in Brighton Valley instead.”

  Shannon began walking again. “The Sheltering Arms is a nice place for seniors to live, and it used to be one of the only options local people had when choosing a retirement home. But the men who are now living here were once rodeo cowboys, cattle hands and rugged ranchers. They didn’t like living in small apartments in town.”

  Blake scanned the vast pastures, which were dotted with cattle. The acreage could support a lot more of them, although he suspected the ranch finances wouldn’t.

  They continued talking as Shannon showed him the pump that Sam and one of the hands had recently fixed—and not replaced. Again, Blake wondered if that meant he could believe what had been implied—that the Rocking C was struggling financially.

  “I have to admit,” he said, “when I heard my uncle was working at a retirement home for former cowboys, I never expected anything like this.”

  “I know.” Shannon brightened, and her voice betrayed her enthusiasm. “I was amazed when I first saw it, too. Chloe wanted to offer the residents a bit of their past, and also allow them to maintain their dignity. Her idea was born from the friendship she struck up with your uncle when she worked at the Sheltering Arms.”

  He supposed that had become part of the Rocking C’s mission statement. No wonder Sam was so all-fired determined to make sure Rex was able to remain here and not move to Arkansas. “Chloe sounds like a bright, innovative woman.”

  “She is. You’d like her—if you met her.”

  Something told him that was true, which brought up a question. “Where did you and Chloe meet?”

  “In nursing school. When she and her husband both decided to attend graduate school in Houston, she didn’t want to leave the place in just anyone’s hands, so she asked me to step in.”

  If that was the case, the owners must have felt that Shannon could handle anything that came her way. And Blake was beginning to think that might be true.

  “But as soon as Chloe and Joe return home for good,” Shannon said, “I’ll be on my way.”

  “You don’t want to continue working here? You have a way with these guys, and they seem to really like you.”

  “Thanks. To be honest, I’ve considered staying on, but I really think working in a hospital setting would be the best place for me. Still, I like it here. If I were a retired cowboy or rancher, I’d much rather live here than in a rest home.”

  Blake could see why the men liked it here. He could also see why it would appeal to his uncle. In fact, he might like to live out his last years on the Rocking Chair Ranch, especially if he could eat meals prepared by Joy.

  A slight breeze kicked up, ruffling Shannon’s hair and stirring up the scent of her shampoo, something soft and floral that made him envision walking barefoot with her in a colorful field of wildflowers.

  He stole a glance her way, watched her brush a loose strand from her eyes. There was another reason a man, no matter his age, might want to stay on the Rocking C. The head nurse was a real beauty, especially in an outdoor setting.

  For a moment he found himself pondering the wisdom of hanging around a while longer. It was tempting, especially if he could be on the receiving end of Shannon’s tender loving care.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Shannon had shown Blake around the Rocking C and they returned from their walk, big gray clouds had begun to move into the valley, stealing the sunshine that had warmed the morning chill just an hour earlier. Shannon was willing to bet that it would be raining by nightfall.

  As she and Blake reached the yard, she spotted Nate Gallagher, the man who’d cut his hand while helping Sam repair the old pump. He’d just unsaddled his gelding and was turning the horse loose into the corral nearest the barn.

  “Hey, Nate!” she called out. “How’s your hand?”

  The dark-haired cowboy glanced up. “It’s coming along just fine. Doc insisted on stitching it.”

  “Are you supposed to be working yet?” she asked.

  He lifted a leather-gloved hand. “I’ve got it taped up and protected.”

  “Good. It’s going to heal better that way.” She didn’t mention that she’d been the one to push for Doc’s examination of his wound and offered him a smile instead. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at it before I leave today. Then I’ll change the bandage for you.”

  “You don’t need to bother,” the onetime bronc rider said. “It’s fine.”
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  “It’s not a bother, Nate. That’s what I’m here for.”

  They were a tough lot, those rodeo cowboys. And while Sam had brought on several young and inexperienced hands, Nate had been raised on a ranch. He was also older than the others and seemed like a much better fit.

  As Shannon and Blake continued to walk to where she’d parked her car, she again glanced at the gathering clouds.

  “Are you worried it’s going to rain?” he asked.

  “It’s supposed to, and I have a long drive back to my apartment in Brighton Valley. So I’d like to get home before it hits. And now would be a good time to leave.”

  Still, she didn’t approach her Toyota Celica, something Blake apparently noticed.

  “What’s really got you worried?” he asked.

  “Sometimes the road near the bridge washes out. So I could have a difficult time getting back tomorrow.”

  “Does it wash out that easily?”

  “No, only when the rain is heavy or constant. But it does happen.” Shannon took her job and responsibility to the ranch seriously. She glanced at Blake, saw him watching her intently, and lobbed him a grin. “Maybe it’d be a good idea for you to pack up your stuff and head back to California before you get stranded here longer than you planned.”

  His gaze caressed her face for a moment, which turned her heart on end. Then his eyes sparked and his lips quirked into a grin. “I’ll risk it.”

  That didn’t sound like the wealthy, career-driven attorney she’d heard about. She wanted to ask him to explain himself, to admit why he wanted to hang out on a struggling cattle ranch/retirement home in Podunk, Texas. But she supposed it wasn’t her business and she opted to hold off with her questions.

  She glanced toward the front porch, where a couple of men were sitting—neither of them Rex. Then she turned back to Blake. His expression, while intriguing, was unreadable.

  “Thanks for showing me around,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I needed the fresh air and exercise.” She also enjoyed his company. He could be pleasant when he wasn’t standing up to a perceived challenge.

  “Are you going to have lunch before you go?” he asked.