Roping in the Cowgirl

by Judy Duarte

  When Sam furrowed his brow and shot him a frown, he realized he shouldn’t have asked, since the original question hadn’t been directed to him. But tell that to his overblown concern about his uncle’s future plans.

  “Ralph is a Realtor,” Sam said. “He’s going to show us some houses.”

  Blake’s chest cramped. Sam was really going to do it then. He was going to purchase a house for Joy. As nice as she’d been to Blake, and as much as he enjoyed her meals, he couldn’t let that sway him. And while he was glad to see his uncle smiling again, he couldn’t help fearing that after Joy got the deed to a new house in hand, she’d leave Sam in the dust.

  Besides, Joy was still young enough to find another man. And at Sam’s age, he could end up having health issues that would require her to have to nurse him at the end.

  He hoped Joy was in this thing for the duration—for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health—until death parted them. But how could he be sure?

  As he studied his uncle’s smile, the way his eyes twinkled when he gazed at the ranch cook, Blake realized the old man’s emotions would be dashed when Joy decided to leave.

  Sure, the woman might be genuine. But why would she expect Sam to buy her a house, to fix her teeth or to send her niece to medical school? And where was this niece? Was she even sharp enough to be accepted to med school in the first place?

  He’d had a wait-and-see attitude, but he couldn’t stay in Texas indefinitely. He needed to go back to the office. Maybe he ought to push things a bit, test Joy’s character to make sure she was the kind of woman who wasn’t just in it for the money—and that she’d be willing to stick by Sam’s side when the going got tough.

  If there was one thing Blake had learned from his maternal grandparents, it was that money could buy just about anything. And for that reason, it could also buy off just about anyone.

  “Supper is almost ready,” Joy told Blake. “But in the meantime, would you like a glass of sweet tea? Or maybe some cheese and crackers to tide you over?”

  “The tea sounds good, but I’ll wait and eat with everyone else.”

  “I’d better check on the hands and tell them to wash up.” Sam gave Joy an affectionate kiss.

  Would Blake ever get used to seeing the couple so lovey-dovey? Or better yet, would he even have to?

  After Sam went outside, Joy handed Blake an ice-cold glass of tea. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?”

  “No, thanks.” He made his way to the big oak table, which had already been set for the young cowboys and Sam. He leaned his hip against one of the chairs. “I’d actually like to talk to you if you have a minute.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Let me just put the biscuits in the oven.”

  When she’d done that, she turned to face him, wearing a smile. It was a warm one that said, “Let’s be friends.” But Blake couldn’t let himself be as easily charmed by it as his uncle had been.

  Even before he asked the question, a niggle of guilt rose up in his chest, suggesting he might be overstepping. But he squashed it down and pressed on. “What would you say if I asked how much it would take for you to let my uncle down easily and move on to someone else who could take on your financial woes?”

  Her expression shifted from sweet to shocked to crushed, transforming that niggle of guilt to a giant-sized feeling of shame.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them back without much success. “It’s...not like that. You’re...wrong.” Her voice cracked, the hurt apparent, even to a hard-hearted fool—and right now, Blake felt like the worst kind.

  Before he could apologize or explain that he’d only been testing her, a test she seemed to have passed, Shannon entered the kitchen.

  “Something sure smells good,” the nurse said, her voice upbeat and cheery. But when she glanced at Joy, when she spotted the tears running down her cheeks, all signs of cheerfulness dissipated into the air.

  “What’s wrong?” Her gaze flitted from Joy to Blake and back again.

  “Nothing.” Joy sniffled, then reached for a paper towel to blot her eyes and her nose. “Please...excuse me.” Then she hurried out of the room.

  Shannon turned to face Blake, anger blazing in her eyes. “I’m not buying that. What did you say to her?”

  Since Joy was so obviously crushed by the offer, she must care more for Sam than Blake had realized. And that being said, he’d have to address her hurt feelings, something that unbalanced him. He’d never been very good at handling tears.

  Of course, he also had Shannon to deal with. She was glaring at him like a little bantam hen, ready to fight anyone in the barnyard who’d dare to challenge or threaten one of her chicks.

  “There’s been a little misunderstanding.” Nice one, Darnell. The only misunderstanding was your own when you misjudged Joy’s motives and went out on a scrawny limb by offering to buy off her feelings—which just might be the real deal.

  Apologies didn’t come easy. The one Blake had offered Sam had been sincere and necessary, but it had been a rough one to make. And when Sam heard about this... Oh, damn. Blake had really stepped in it now. Sam was going to hit the roof.

  “I screwed up,” he said, “I made an assumption and said something to her that I shouldn’t have said. So I owe her an apology.”

  The anger in Shannon’s eyes had died down, but he doubted it would take much to flare up again.

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I...” This was going to make him sound like an ass, even to himself. “I offered her money to let Sam down easily.”

  “Are you kidding me? That was a cruel and thoughtless thing for you to do. What kind of man are you?”

  One who was only trying to look after his uncle’s best interests, but he’d clearly stepped over the line and wasn’t sure how to backpedal.

  “I’m sorry for assuming the worst,” he admitted. “Joy is an amazing cook who’s provided the men here with the kind of homemade meals they’ve probably been missing for years. And she’s apparently made my uncle happy. I didn’t mean to suggest that she didn’t have real feelings for him. It’s just that things seemed to happen so fast that I was confused by it all. I just... I just...” Blake blew out a battered breath. “I know there are women out there who are more interested in what a man can provide for them than in the man himself.”

  Shannon crossed her arms and arched a single brow. “Oh, do you.”

  He wasn’t about to spill his guts, to let her know how disappointed he’d been when he’d walked in on Melissa talking to one of her friends about the big house she was going to insist Blake buy, the expensive car she’d soon be driving around town, the whopping big diamond she’d soon be sporting.

  Melissa’s dishonesty had done a real number on him. But then again, even his mother had made it no secret that she appreciated the finer things in life more than she had Blake’s late father.

  “Believe it or not,” he said, “I’ve experienced women like that myself. But I made the wrong assumption this time, and I’ll figure out a way to make things right.”

  Shannon didn’t respond, and by her expression, he realized she hadn’t softened a bit. Instead, she glared at him as if he’d really made a mess of things. And apparently, the head nurse wasn’t going to be nearly as forgiving and understanding as he’d hoped she’d be. And that bothered him a lot more than he cared to admit.

  “I’ll apologize to Joy,” he said.

  Yet, for some reason, it seemed to be Shannon’s forgiveness he needed.

  Chapter Seven

  For a woman who’d once had a quick temper, Shannon prided herself on being able to keep it in check these days. But Blake’s audacity had caused her to nearly lose her grip.

  When Blake had first arrived at the Rocking C, he’d been strung as tight as a war drum and ready for battle. She’d heard that he was a hard-nosed negotiator, but his attitude that day had still surprised and annoyed her.

  Recently, she’d begun to see his s
weeter side, as well as a playfulness that had drawn her to him. So she’d begun to think they might actually become friends. In fact, after their dance on the porch, she’d even entertained a few romantic thoughts about him, about them. But that was before he’d made such a false assumption and cruel comment about her aunt’s character.

  Joy was one of the kindest, gentlest souls Shannon had ever known, and it crushed her to see her aunt in tears.

  “What’s the matter?” Blake asked. “I’m going to tell her I’m sorry.”

  “Knowing Joy, she’ll forgive you. But I guess you could say that I don’t turn the other cheek as easily as she does.”

  Blake eyed her carefully, but not critically. No, his expression seemed more stunned and surprised.

  “I understand why Joy was hurt,” he said. “But why are you taking this personally?”

  For a lot of reasons, only one of which was her relationship to Joy, a woman she’d defend to her dying day. But another was because she’d lowered her guard around Blake.

  If truth be told, she’d actually wanted to believe that he’d inherited many of Sam’s traits, but she wasn’t about to voice that pointless wish. So she said, “I don’t like seeing people upset, especially my employees.”

  At that point, Shannon nearly pulled the relative card and told Blake that she would defend and protect her aunt until her dying day, but she’d do the same for any of the people who lived or worked on the Rocking C. So why let him think her disappointment in him was “personal” when it was just a matter of common courtesy, understanding and respect?

  “I was wrong to make that offer to her,” Blake said. “The only explanation I have is that I don’t want to see Sam hurt. He’s already lost the love of his life, which nearly killed him. And I...” He paused, then slowly shook his head, apparently thinking a further explanation wasn’t necessary.

  And maybe it wasn’t. Shannon shifted her weight to one hip. “I don’t want to see either one of them brokenhearted. And it irritates me to think that you’d assume the woman who’s been cooking your meals, treating you kindly and doing her best to make sure you feel welcome around here would take the money you offered her and run.”

  His eye twitched ever so slightly. Then he shrugged a single shoulder. “It’s been known to happen. Some women aren’t what they seem.”

  “Yeah, well, that offer you just made to Joy tells me a lot about the kind of man you really are.”

  “Touché,” he said, his voice humbled, his expression contrite.

  Shannon wanted to hang on to her anger and throw a few more accusations his way, but she decided to let it go—at least, for now. Besides, she’d made her point, and he’d admitted that he’d been wrong.

  “So what can I do to make it up to you?” he asked.

  “I suppose you could try to be more like your uncle and less of an insensitive jerk.”

  He seemed to chew on that for a second or two, then a slow grin slid across his face, making him far more appealing to her at the moment than he should be. “I’m probably more like my uncle than you think. He’s got a protective streak, too.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen it. But he’s not one to hurt someone’s feelings unless they really deserve it.”

  Again, he studied her. “I suspect Sam is going to hear about this and jump all over my case.”

  “You’d be deserving of it.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  There was no “maybe” about it, but she wasn’t as eager to see him get his comeuppance as she’d been just minutes ago.

  Blake nodded toward the doorway to the service porch. “I’d better find Sam and tell him what I said before Joy does.”

  After chugging down the last of his tea, Blake rinsed the glass and left it in the sink. Then he headed outside, shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

  As the door shut behind him, Shannon felt a strange compulsion to go after him, to be a buffer between him and his uncle.

  She didn’t, of course. But for a moment, she actually wanted to defend and protect Blake, too.

  * * *

  Blake found his uncle in the barn, wearing a tool belt and heading out to the yard.

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  Sam’s steps slowed. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Blake expected all hell to break loose when he told his uncle what he’d done, but Sam merely shook his head and said, “Damn fool kid. What in the hell am I going to do with you?”

  Sam’s disgust and disappointment packed a gut-wrenching wallop to Blake’s solar plexus, something he hadn’t felt since he was sixteen and had borrowed the ranch pickup without permission. He’d met up with some friends at the ball field that day, but on the way home, while adjusting the volume on the radio and not watching the road, he’d taken out a couple of mailboxes and nearly run the truck into a ditch. He’d hoped his deed would go unnoticed, but he couldn’t hide the cracked windshield and dented hood. Needless to say, Sam had hit the roof.

  If Blake had thought Joy’s tears had been hard to handle just minutes ago, the loss of Sam’s respect was even worse now.

  “This isn’t an excuse,” Blake said, knowing how Sam felt about people making them after they’d screwed-up. “But do you remember Melissa Bennett?”

  “That redhead with dollar signs in her eyes?”

  “That’s the one.” Blake was surprised at his uncle’s perceptiveness. He’d introduced Melissa to Sam and Nellie a year and a half ago, when he’d taken her to visit them after they moved to the Sheltering Arms. But he’d never discussed the details of their breakup. “How did you know she had...a greedy side?”

  “Because she kept noticing things like that two-karat diamond ring I bought your aunt on our fiftieth wedding anniversary and the Waterford crystal in the hutch. And on top of that, she didn’t seem to give a rip about the photos of you and your dad that Nellie had framed and displayed on the wall. When I pointed out a couple of them, like the ones of you riding Chester for the very first time or holding that line of trout we caught at the Founder’s Day Picnic at Riley’s Creek, she just glossed over them to look at Nellie’s collection of Lladró figurines.”

  Blake wished he’d noticed what his aunt and uncle had spotted in Melissa sooner. It would have saved him a lot of grief later. He glanced at Sam, whose expression had softened a bit. “I’m not sure how I missed seeing that.”

  “Because you were looking at her through your hormones and not your brain.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Blake asked.

  “Would you have listened to me? Or to anyone? Some people need to learn about life the hard way, Blake. But if it makes you feel any better, your father didn’t like taking advice about matters of the heart, either.”

  “You mean when it came to dating my mother?”

  Sam nodded. “I knew that relationship wasn’t going to work the first time he brought your mom to the ranch. I tried to tell him why, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Blake knew what Sam meant. His parents had met in college, but they hadn’t been a good match, mostly because their backgrounds had been so different. His dad had been raised by Sam and Nellie, who’d loved and cherished him as their own. They’d also taught him a good, solid work ethic.

  On the other hand, Blake’s mother had been coddled as a child and used to getting her way, so their marriage was troubled from the start.

  He might have only been a kid at the time his dad died, but he’d lived with his parents, heard their constant arguments and suspected a divorce was on the horizon. Looking back, he realized his maternal grandfather had managed to keep them together by sending them on a cruise, buying them a new car or...on that fateful weekend, springing for a vacation in Vail.

  Sam lifted his Stetson and raked his hand through his hair. “I came to the conclusion that a man’s got to make his own decisions about women, even if he ends up making a big mistake.”

  “You’re probably right. About six months after I introduced you to Melissa,
I finally saw the dollar signs in her eyes and realized she was only using me for the life she thought I’d provide her.”

  “I figured you would see through her facade—eventually. I’m just glad you didn’t marry her.”

  “Me, too. But thanks to her, I’m skeptical about a woman’s motives. So when you mentioned house hunting with Joy, I was afraid she might be...playing you.”

  “Like that snooty redhead tried to play you?” Sam huffed, then readjusted his hat on his head. “Open your heart, son. If you do, you’ll see that Joy doesn’t have a greedy bone in her body.”

  Blake hoped his uncle was right. He glanced toward the house, expecting to see Joy slip outside, hurry to the barn, sidle up to Sam and tell him how badly Blake had hurt her feelings.

  But that never happened. Instead, she remained indoors, keeping to herself—at least for now.

  Was she that interested in preserving family peace and harmony?

  Apparently, Sam and Shannon both thought that she was, and maybe they were right.

  “Don’t worry,” Blake told his uncle. “From now on I’ll stay out of your business and treat Joy with the respect she deserves.”

  “I’ll hold you to your word,” Sam said. “I assume you apologized to her.”

  “I’m going to—as soon as I see her.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” Sam placed a hand on Blake’s shoulder, gripping it with a solid but gentle strength, just the way he used to offer his guidance to Blake years ago. “I know you’re worried about me making a mistake, but trust me, I’m not. I’m in love with Joy and, whether you like it or not, I’m going to marry her. It’d just make my life a lot easier and happier if you’d try to accept her. But that’s your call.”

  Blake nodded his agreement, although he wasn’t sure how he was going to fit into the new Darnell family dynamics.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Sam said, “I’ve got to go check on Nate and the other hands. That poor guy has his hands full trying to help me teach the youngsters how to be decent cowboys.”