Once Upon a Cowboy

by Maggie McGinnis

  When she got back to where she’d started, she sank down slowly, folding her body into her favorite pose, closing her eyes and just breathing in, out. Hardly having to think, she moved through a series of poses she’d been doing for years, a routine she’d learned long ago, in a different world.

  —

  “Anyone want to try a little yoga this morning?” Christyne, one of the full-timers, leaned into the Safe Haven common room where Jess was sitting, well into her third week of official homelessness. “It’s good stuff. Makes you feel better, no matter where you start.”

  A couple of the younger girls got up from the beat-up couch where they’d been playing cards, but Jess didn’t move. Yoga-schmoga. What she needed was her GED, a job, and a ticket out of town, not some meditation nonsense. Yoga wasn’t going to fix her, and honestly, feeling better wasn’t really on the agenda today.

  Feeling better wasn’t going to happen—not by doctors, not by the counselors who passed through Safe Haven once a week, and certainly not by yoga. She pulled her battered copy of Little Women back up over her face, not answering.

  “Jess? Join us?” Christyne tapped the book.

  “No, thanks. Not today.”

  “I promise it’s not hokey. No chanting or Buddha-posing or anything.” Christyne raised her eyebrows. “Just come try it. I have a feeling you might like it.”

  Jess sighed, crossing her arms in the gesture that had become so automatic she barely noticed it. She’d only been at Safe Haven for a few weeks, but already she could tell which adults actually gave a damn. There was a whole herd of people who came through once a month, did something they thought would benefit the Troubled Youth staying there, and then went home, washed their hands thoroughly, and felt better about themselves for donating their two hours to charity.

  Christyne was not one of those. She was a full-timer who worked her butt off sixty hours a week for a paycheck that probably didn’t even cover rent. And that’s the only reason Jess was even thinking about joining her.

  Christyne got a quiet look on her face that Jess recognized. It was the one that made her look like she could poke right into your brain and tell what you were thinking—but for some reason, it wasn’t scary. So weird, because Jess had never wanted another soul to have any idea what was going on in her head.

  “Come on,” Christyne said. “It’s safe, and it’ll make you strong.”

  Jess looked up at her, but didn’t reach for her hand. Finally, shrugging noncommittally, she pushed up off the couch. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try it.”

  She had nothing else to do today except think, anyway. And thinking was getting her nowhere fast.

  Besides, strong was a word that spoke to her. After all, maybe if she’d been stronger, she could have resisted Mama’s sicko boss without losing Mama her job. Maybe if she’d been stronger, she wouldn’t have ever hooked up with Billy.

  Maybe if she’d been stronger, she’d have left him before it was too late.

  Chapter 6

  “So I’m going to take a wild guess here and say some wild bronco bucked you off when you were a kid?” Early Tuesday morning, Cole winked at the forty-something woman currently clinging to the fence post but trying not to show it. She’d arrived last night, a week late for her session, and after twenty minutes of making idle conversation in hopes of getting her on a horse this morning, he was pretty sure he knew why she’d almost backed out of the entire vacation.

  “Something like that.” Elise grimaced. “It was a Shetland pony.”

  Cole laughed out loud. “The ferocity of Shetlands is definitely underrated.” He motioned her toward Goldie, an old mare they kept at Whisper Creek just for people like Elise. On a good day, the most Goldie could work herself up to was a full plod, so she was just about as harmless as a horse could get.

  “Come say hello to Goldie. She’s twenty-two years old, but don’t mention her age around the other horses. She prefers they think she’s not a day over fourteen.”

  Elise smiled, and Cole hoped it was the first sign of a breakthrough.

  “Goldie has never bucked anyone off in her life, right, old girl?” Cole ran his hand down the mare’s nose, and she snorted in response. He glanced at the other corral, where it looked like Decker had everyone mounted and ready to head out for the morning trail ride. Cole gave him a subtle go-without-us signal, and two minutes later, it was just Elise, Goldie, and Cole left in the stable yard.

  Or not.

  While he’d been talking to Elise, Jess had ambled out of the stable and was leaning against the other side of the corral, looking unfairly gorgeous with the morning sunlight glinting off her dark hair. She was dressed in a loose cotton shirt and jeans, and once again he had to blink hard not to think about the curves he knew were hiding under her clothing.

  “Morning, Jess.”

  She waved. “Pay no attention to me. Just wanted to see how old Goldie’s doing.”

  “Shh. Don’t call her old.” Cole smiled, then reluctantly turned his attention back to Elise and the horse. “All right, Goldie. We’re going to convince Elise here that all horses aren’t bad. It’s a big job, but I know you’re up to the challenge.”

  He tugged the lead rope to start Goldie walking toward Elise, but they’d only gone two steps before she backed up even farther. The poor woman was going to fall through the fence if she took one more step backward.

  She put her hands up. “I’m sorry, Cole. I have no idea why I thought this would be a good idea.”

  He stopped walking toward her. “It is a good idea. You always wanted to learn to ride, but you got good ’n’ scared and never got to try again. It doesn’t matter whether you get thrown by a Shetland or a big black stallion. It hurts, and it’s scary. Not your fault.”

  “Thank you?” Her voice was small, her eyes quizzical.

  He shook his head. “Riding horses isn’t easy, but once you learn to get comfortable around them, there’s no feeling in the world like being on horseback.”

  “Comfortable is a big stretch right now, I think.” She looked at the riders heading over the small rise above the stables. “Don’t you need to go with them?”

  “Nope. Decker has things under control.”

  “I’m sorry.” She kicked the toe of her boot in the dirt. “I really never should have come.”

  He winked. “This is why we have that ironclad cancellation policy—so people like you, who really, really wish they could ride—are less likely to stay home instead.” Cole paused, tipping up his Stetson. “You can’t possibly believe you’re the first person to come out here and be afraid of horses, are you?”

  “Yes?” Her eyes were clear, wide, still frightened. “What kind of moron schedules a dude ranch vacation when she’s completely petrified of horses?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Cole laughed, pointing to Jess. “That one over there dragged a scared friend of hers out here two years ago, and I thought the poor girl might need a Valium drip the first day she was here.”

  “And did she end up riding?”

  He laughed. “She sure did. And once she mastered that, she decided to move out here, marry my brother, and take charge of the whole damn place.”

  “Oh!” Elise put a hand to her chest. “Wait—do you mean Kyla?”

  “The very one.”

  Elise laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. The kind of person who’s afraid of horses but schedules a vacation here is the kind of person who wants not to be afraid anymore. Lucky for you, we’re especially good at that kind.”

  He looked at her closely, taking a deep breath and summoning the voice he used for the colts when he was training them. “Elise, I am holding onto this horse, and she will not move without my say-so. I promise you that.

  “Here’s something else I promise.” He walked Goldie in a small circle, winking at Jess on his way by. “I’m not putting you on this horse today.”

  Her shoulders fell significantly. In relief, he knew.

&n
bsp; “What do you mean?”

  He circled again, letting her see Goldie’s hooves practically drag on the sand, letting her watch her completely non-threatening, lumbering gait.

  “Well, here’s the thing. At Whisper Creek, we’re pretty proud of our return rate. People come back because they had a great time here. That’s our goal, and the only way we make that happen is by making sure nobody feels like she has to do something she’s not ready for.”

  Elise nodded slowly, and Cole noticed her fingers loosening on the fence post. Good. Maybe if he kept talking, she’d let go fully by the end of the hour.

  “And,”—he continued—“we definitely want you to come back, so we’re going to make sure you want to come back.”

  “So,”—her hand loosened a little more—“if we’re not going to ride, what will we do?”

  “We’ll walk.”

  “We’ll—walk.” She nodded slowly, casing Goldie with wary eyes.

  Cole smiled. He’d get her on this horse by tomorrow. He could feel it.

  “Here. Take the end of this lead, and I’ll walk between you and Goldie. I’m holding the rope, too. You are completely safe.”

  Elise gingerly took the rope in her right hand, finally letting go of the post and putting her left hand on the knot at the end. Cole gave Goldie a pat on the shoulder to urge her to start walking, and with a lumbering, slow gait, she started around the small corral. Cole kept his hand on the lead and his body between Elise and the horse, and two laps in, he could sense the woman thawing beside him.

  He, on the other hand, was heating up much faster. So far as he could tell, Jess’s eyes hadn’t left him for the entire time she’d been standing there, and it was doing God-awful things to his concentration.

  He shook his head, trying to focus on Elise. “How we doing?”

  The tiniest smile had her lips creeping up at the corners. Score. “We are not yet running the other way.”

  He laughed. “This is progress, then, right?” He stopped Goldie and fed her a carrot, then held one out for Elise. “Want to give her a treat?”

  She shook her head. “One thing at a time, I think. The walking thing is working. We’ll keep doing the walking thing.” Her voice was fast, still nervous.

  They set off again around the corral, but this time Cole let his hand slip from the lead when she wasn’t looking. He kept his body solidly between her and the horse, because even though there was no way Goldie was going to make a break for it, he knew Elise needed the reassurance.

  Four laps later, she realized he’d dropped the lead. Her eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw her hands tighten on the rope. “Don’t let go!”

  “I let go four laps ago.”

  She looked down at her hands, then at the rope, then at Goldie. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. You are leading this horse, Elise. Not me.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, and again Cole could see the smile sneaking onto her face. “I totally am, aren’t I?”

  Twenty minutes later, Elise had finally taken Goldie for a few laps on her own, and Cole could tell she was actually a little itchy to get on the horse. She pulled up to the gate and put a piece of carrot awkwardly on her palm, feeding it gingerly to Goldie.

  “She really is a good horse,” she said as she petted Goldie’s nose, trying to pretend like she wasn’t still nervous.

  “One of the best we have.”

  “Looks like the others aren’t back from the trail ride yet.”

  “Nope. They’ll be out until lunchtime.” Cole leaned against the fence, waiting for her to ask, knowing she was battling herself inside.

  “Do you think—is there any chance—oh, never mind.”

  “Do I think what?”

  Elise toed the dirt again. “Do you think maybe I could get up on her? Just for a minute? Just to try?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “I promised you wouldn’t have to ride today.”

  “But I think maybe I’m ready to try. Maybe?”

  Cole reached for Goldie’s lead, rubbing her nose. “Tomorrow you can ride, if you think you’re ready.”

  “Okay.” She looked disappointed, but relieved at the same time.

  “Listen,”—he met her eyes—“I know what I’m doing here. Trust me.” He unlocked the gate and motioned her through. “Tomorrow. Or the next day. It doesn’t matter. We’ll ride when you’re ready.”

  “But—”

  He put a finger up to interrupt her. “Trust me.”

  “All right.” She smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”

  As she headed toward the row of cabins, Cole couldn’t help but smile as he took off Goldie’s saddle. Yep, Elise had come to Whisper Creek scared silly of horses, but he’d be damned if she’d leave that way.

  —

  “Hey, cowgirl.” After Elise was out of earshot, Cole set Goldie’s saddle on the top rail of the corral fence, just inches from Jess’s elbow. “Are you looking for a lesson, too?”

  She smiled. They both knew she rode just as well as he did, if not better, thanks to four years of trading barn duty for lessons all through college. “I think I’m good, but thanks…though you were really good with her. I’m impressed.”

  “Thank you. She’ll be asking to take Goldie home by the end of the week. I guarantee it.”

  “You’re pretty confident of your skills, cowboy.”

  He winked. “I’m pretty good with her type.”

  “And that would be? Young, beautiful, and scared?” Oh, eesh. Where had that jealous tone come from?

  “Actually, I was going with scared. You tagged the rest on.”

  Jess cleared her throat, hoping the flush she felt in her neck wasn’t obvious. “So why didn’t you let her get on the horse? I’m curious. She was ready.”

  “Nope,”—he shook his head—“she wasn’t.”

  “A-and yet—she said she was.”

  “I know. But she wasn’t.” He pointed to his head. “She wanted me to think she was ready, because she was afraid to make me feel like our whole hour walking in circles had been a waste.”

  “But maybe she was ready. How can you tell for sure?”

  This time Cole pointed to his shoulders, then his eyes. “Body language. Her shoulders were still hiked up practically to her ears, and she couldn’t quite meet my eyes yet. When she’s ready, her shoulders will be where they belong, and she’ll look me straight in the eye and tell me so.”

  He put up his index finger in mock warning. “And before you point out that she could fake both of those things, you’re right. She could, but I’d still be able to tell. It’s just there—a whole-body thing. I don’t know how to describe it.

  “Besides,”—he shrugged—“even if she did think she was ready, I’d already promised her she wouldn’t have to ride today. If I’d let her get up on Goldie there, it’d be breaking my promise. She was testing boundaries, even though she probably didn’t even realize it.”

  Jess couldn’t help but stare at him for a long moment. Wow. Really? He’d been thinking all of that stuff as he’d worked his charm and his smile with the pretty guest? How had she never known he had this—this intuitiveness hidden inside the sexy-cowboy shtick he showed to the outside world?

  She’d been at Whisper Creek enough times that she’d thought she knew him—or at least his type—well enough. She’d always pegged him as the charming, ridiculously hot cowboy who loved horses and women equally. Definitely not some sort of armchair psychologist with the ability to read said women so accurately.

  If Cole’s brains were a match for his open, friendly personality and his ridiculously good looks, the female population was in serious trouble.

  Or maybe just she was.

  She took a cleansing breath, trying to chase those thoughts out of her brain. “Did you do some psychology training in college?”

  “No.” For a brief moment, she thought she saw his ever present smile falter, but then he laughed quietly. “I just know people. And I
know horses. And I know people with horses.” He shrugged. “So I can tell.”

  Cole took off Goldie’s bridle and looped it over his arm. “So how’s the wedding hoopla going this morning? Hayley ready to elope yet?”

  “Is Daniel hoping so?”

  “Yep.” Cole laughed. “It’s a guy thing.”

  “Well, I have news for Daniel. Hayley, who was never, ever going to walk down an aisle, will be doing so on Saturday. She’s got the flowers, the dress, the music—at least I hope she has those things—and she is bound and determined to have the best wedding Whisper Creek has ever seen.”

  “It’ll be tough to beat Decker and Kyla’s last year.”

  Jess thought back to the outdoor wedding that had brought the entire guest list to tears. “It might come down to the vows. Has the groom written his yet? Decker’s were kind of a game-ender, after all.”

  “That’s Decker for you—always setting the bar high for the rest of us peons.” Cole shook his head, smiling. “I’m sure Danny’s up for the challenge, though. No worries.”

  He grabbed a brush from the fence post, carefully avoiding her eyes as he started running the brush over Goldie’s coat. “And completely unrelated to that, has Hayley written her vows yet?”

  Jess laughed. “Were you told to ask?”

  “Nope.” He stopped brushing, looking over at her with that grin that had probably gotten him out of countless trouble spots in the past. “All right, yes. But you beat it out of me. Daniel’s itching to know what she’s going to say.”

  “Sorry. My lips are sealed.” Jess shrugged. “And plus, I have no idea.”

  “Not helpful, cowgirl.”

  “So,”—Jess moved some dirt around with the toe of her boot—“I heard you’re dateless for the wedding of the year. How is that possible?”

  “Mysteries of the universe and all that.”

  “No secret girlfriend or anything?”

  The words please say no circled in her head like a marquee on high speed.

  “Actually, I just haven’t decided who to ask yet.”

  Oh. Ouch. He had so many women to choose from that he couldn’t even decide?

  “The wedding’s in four days, Cole. You might want to give the poor gal some notice.”