Once Upon a Cowboy

by Maggie McGinnis

  “It’s okay,” Hayley said. “We’re right here.”

  Jess took a deep breath, slid open the envelope, and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. She unfolded it, dread filling her stomach as she saw more of that scrawling penmanship. Kyla’s hand squeezed on her knee as all three of them read the shaking words on Jess’s lap.

  Star, it’s me, Luanne. Your aunt, in case you forgot. Ha. I’ve been trying to call you, but you don’t seem to want to get back to me. That’s frustrating, I gotta be honest. Because we have a lot to talk about, don’t we? Specifically a night called July 25. You remember that night? I think you do. Mack sure does. And I bet the police would be real interested in what you know about that night. Because I think you know a shit-lot about it. Course, for the right price, maybe we won’t feel like we need to make that call. You get me? I think you get me. You always were too smart for your britches. You call us. Otherwise we call the police. Or maybe we call Billy. Bet he’d sure like to know where you are these days, wouldn’t he?

  —

  Cole balanced a two-by-four with his knee as he fished a nail out of his tool belt. Two more of these and he’d have the back wall framed. He whistled as he hammered, some country song stuck in his head from Ma’s kitchen radio this morning. He should probably be using this precious free hour to work on the downstairs, but all he’d wanted to do was get going on making this space into a—well, home.

  “Cole? You still up there?” Decker called from the first floor.

  He stopped hammering. “No, moron. It’s the meadow trolls banging around.”

  “Wow. Not wasting any time getting Jess moved in, are you?” Decker clomped up the stairs.

  “It’s not for J—”

  “I know, I know.” Decker waved a dismissive hand. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “You just here to harass me? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the afternoon ride?”

  “Yeah, about that.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. “About that what?”

  “Mike just called. There’s an issue up on the site.”

  “And he can’t handle it?”

  “Not by himself, no.” Decker shook his head. “Sorry. I know I said this wasn’t going to happen again this week.” Decker took off his hat, scrubbing at hair that Ma would call long overdue for a haircut. “It’s just how these things go. Shit happens, and I’m the guy with the job description to deal with today’s particular brand of shit.”

  “Charming.”

  “You want me to call in Jimmy and Pete to take out the late ride?”

  Cole shook his head, holstering his hammer. So much for making progress on Jess’s—on the—apartment. “You know we’re maxed out on payroll already this week. Can’t give anybody more hours.”

  Decker looked out the window, then raised his eyebrows. “What about Jess? Would she go with you?”

  “I imagine she’s busy with wedding stuff. She and Kyla and Hayley have been holed up in her cabin for over an hour now.”

  “Not that you’re keeping track.”

  “I’m not.”

  Decker slid his hat back on. “Ask her. She likes riding better than anybody I know. And if Hayley’s starting to go all bridezilla on the gals, she’d probably welcome an excuse to break free for a couple of hours, right?”

  Cole unbuckled his tool belt and laid it down on the pile of fresh lumber in the corner. “I’ll figure things out here, Decker. Go do what you need to do.”

  “You sure?”

  “I can handle it. Go.”

  Decker headed for the stairs. “This’ll all be worth it in the end when we’re up and running and rolling in the dough, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “There’s a list in the tack room of who’s supposed to be on which horses today.”

  “That’s helpful.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Almost as helpful as—say—going on the ride like you’re supposed to be doing.”

  “Maybe I’m just trying to give you and Jess some time. Think of it that way.”

  “Right.”

  Decker shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “Listen. I know we keep saying we need to talk about the whole who’s-doing-what thing. Maybe we can block out an hour or two Monday or something? After the wedding craziness is over?”

  “Sure, Decker.” Cole sighed, gathering his hat. “As long as you don’t get called away to another crisis.”

  He headed down the stairs and out the door, trying to shake off his irritation with Decker. Maybe Jess would like to go out for a ride. She had barely left her cabin all afternoon, and it was one of those perfect Montana days—blue sky, warm breeze, and horses. He was sure she’d welcome the chance to get out on Sky Dancer and breathe some fresh air—even if kid-duty was involved. He just had to frame it the right way.

  —

  “No.”

  Two minutes later, Cole stood on Jess’s cabin porch, facing two sets of folded arms. “What do you mean, no? She loves riding.”

  Hayley shook her head. “Not today, Cole.”

  “But I need a hand, and Sky Dancer needs a ride, and”—he put up his hands in confusion—“why are you two standing here like palace guards? What’s up with Jess? Where is she?”

  “Busy—”

  “Indisposed—” Kyla and Hayley spoke at the same time, then looked at each other and cringed.

  “Is she all right?”

  Hayley nodded. “She’s…fine. She’ll be fine.”

  A low note of alarm pinged his gut. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she’ll be fine.” Kyla took his elbow and gently turned him toward the stairs. “See if Jimmy can help with the ride. He’s looking for more hours this week.”

  “But payroll’s maxed—”

  “Ask Jimmy.” Kyla’s voice was uncharacteristically firm as both she and Hayley turned to go back into Jess’s cabin. He stood for a moment at the top of the stairs, debating whether to knock on the door again and demand to see Jess, or just leave well enough alone. They were obviously hiding something—or protecting Jess somehow—but from what, he had no idea.

  He thought back to all of the times this past week when she’d seemed uncharacteristically jumpy, thought back to the way she’d sprung away from his hand at the waterfall and cringed when that church guy had reached toward her. Thought of the fear he’d tasted in her kiss.

  He looked at the stable, where the kids were gathering, then back at Jess’s door. Fine. He’d leave her alone for now, but he couldn’t let this go on. He had to know what was happening. He had to know if he could help fix it.

  He sighed as he clapped his hat back on his head and worked up the smile the kids were expecting. Right now, he had to figure out how to get ten kids out to the south meadow and back safely.

  Later, he’d figure out Jess.

  Chapter 20

  Two hours later, Cole had just finished helping the kids find marshmallow sticks in a clearing when he heard Sky Dancer’s telltale whinny from somewhere over the rise to his east. He watched the skyline, and a minute later, Jess and the horse crested the ridge, pausing at the top.

  She cantered toward him, and he felt himself mesmerized by the sight of her jet-black hair flowing behind her. Christ, she was like an old West movie heroine, with her just-worn-enough boots and her soft plaid shirt and those damn jeans that hugged every damn curve just right.

  He swallowed hard as she pulled up, and he forced his eyes to hers, rather than let them skim all the other parts of her that he’d love to touch. Her eyes were red around the edges, like she’d kicked up some serious dust. Or had she been crying?

  If she had been crying, he could guarantee she wouldn’t want him to know that, so he kept his voice light. “Hey, cowgirl. What brings you to these parts?”

  She reached into the saddlebag on her right side, coming up with a baggie of chocolate bars. “Ma said you forgot the chocolate.”

  “You forgot the chocolate?” Ella’s eyes went wide. “How were we going
to make s’mores without chocolate?”

  “I didn’t forget the chocolate.” No way had he forgotten the chocolate. He’d done that once, earlier in the summer, and the resulting outcry had trained him well enough to never let it happen again.

  He pointed toward the log circle that surrounded the fire pit. “Kids, go check those bags over by the logs. I’ll bet you a dollar there’s chocolate in there.”

  Like a herd of goats, the kids moved toward Cole’s bags. He looked back up at Jess. “I didn’t forget the chocolate, but I appreciate you bringing this out to me.”

  Jess shrugged. “I needed a ride, anyway. It was a good excuse.”

  “You want to stay? Join us for s’mores?”

  She smiled, and though he could see warmth in it, he also sensed a veil coming over her face as she watched the kids. “Looks like you have things under control here.”

  Just then, one of them yelled, “There’s no chocolate! You did forget the chocolate!”

  Cole turned. “Not possible. I packed it myself just before we left. I swear—”

  Then he turned to Jess, and his eyes narrowed. Ma had come down just before he’d left with the kids, wandering through the corral under the pretense she was checking saddles and—quote—helping.

  “Ma took that chocolate right out of my saddlebag, didn’t she?”

  Jess’s eyes widened. “I know nothing! Truly. She just came down to my cabin with this bag and asked if maybe I could bring it out to you. Said you’d have a riot on your hands if the kids discovered you’d done the campfire ride without chocolate.”

  Cole shook his head. “You know what I think? I think everyone on this damn ranch is playing matchmaker, and now Ma’s in the mix.”

  He saw a series of emotions skitter quickly over her face, but she tried to cover them.

  He put a hand on Sky Dancer. “You’d better stay. If you go back too early, Ma’s going to think she’s failed. We wouldn’t want her to feel bad, right?”

  “Um, no?”

  “Good answer. Come on. Have a s’more.”

  Jess shivered. “Okay. I’ll stay. Just for a bit.”

  —

  A little while later, Jess sat on a log by the little campfire, watching the kids roast their marshmallows as Cole told them stories about the Native Americans who’d inhabited this land long before his own ancestors had moved to Montana. The kids were mesmerized as he told the tale of two wolves in a long-standing battle for control of their pack.

  So was Jess, she realized.

  It wasn’t just the story that had her entranced, though. It was the way the kids watched him tell it—their eyes wide, their mouths open, their knees coming up to protect them at the scary parts.

  He was sitting next to her on the log, and as he told the story, she could feel his deep voice resonate through her entire body. She tried not to think about the effect that same voice had just when he whispered, but sitting this close to him, feeling the heat from his body, it was impossible not to.

  She closed her eyes, letting the soft vibrations calm her, listening to the ebb and flow of his words as he gave life to an ancient tale. She could sit here for hours, she realized. She could just sit here and listen to that voice, picture the battle of wills, almost feel the coarse hair of the wolves as they snarled and yipped.

  When he said The End, there was a collective groan. She opened her eyes and realized that while she’d had them closed, both five-year-olds, Paige and Ella, had nabbed spots at Cole’s feet, and the other kids had shoved each other closer and closer during the story, hanging on his every word.

  “But that’s the end! There’s no more to the story!” He laughed at their consternation.

  “Make up another one!” Jackson, an eight-year-old with a mop of hair falling over his eyes, pleaded with his hands.

  “Yes!” Paige nodded. “Tell us another one!”

  Ella looked up with her best puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

  Cole looked at his watch. “Don’t you guys want to make some more s’mores?”

  “Story first!”

  “Okay, okay. One more story.” He smiled at Jess over Ella’s head. “But then we have to eat all of this chocolate!”

  “Yay!”

  “What kind of story should I do this time, Paige?”

  “A prince and princess one.”

  Jess laughed quietly. This should be good.

  “Hmm.” Cole poked at the fire with a long stick. “A prince and a princess, hmm? Can it be a cowboy prince?”

  “Sure!”

  “Okay. Once upon a time there was a cowboy prince.”

  “Was his name Cole?” Ella giggled.

  “Sure. We’ll call him Cole. So once upon a time there was a cowboy prince named Cole, and he was very, very handsome.”

  Jess rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but smile.

  “He had lots and lots of horses, but alas, no princess. It was really quite tragic.” He looked around at the kids, who looked like they weren’t quite sure where the story was headed. “Lucky for him, there was a princess in a faraway land called…Bostonia. She was very, very beautiful, but she had terrible taste in music.”

  Jess laughed out loud.

  “So the prince decided to have a dance. He invited all of the townspeople and all of the nearby princesses, but saved his most special invitation for the faraway princess. She, of course, had been waiting in her tower, just hoping for this invitation.”

  “Of course,” Jess murmured. “Because she was ever so lonely without a handsome cowboy prince.”

  “Hey.” He elbowed her. “My story.

  “See, now, this princess never went to any balls because she had a terrible secret and didn’t want anyone to know what it was.” Cole paused for dramatic effect, and Jess felt her eyes go wide. “But she was so entranced by the prince that she was willing to risk him finding out.”

  “What was the secret?” Jackson’s eyes matched hers.

  “Well, it turns out that though she was very, very beautiful, she had been born with two left feet. No matter how hard she tried, the poor girl just could not dance.”

  Jess smiled in relief.

  “But since the princess very much liked the prince, she gladly accepted his invitation, and she prepared her best dress”—he looked at Jess—“and her best shoes for the ball. Then she set out in her carriage, all the while wishing she had her very own horse to ride anytime she wanted.” Another sidelong look at Jess.

  “But then something terrible happened.” The kids leaned closer. “On the way to the ball, the princess’s carriage was attacked by an evil dragon. He was huge and ugly and breathed fire that smelled like spoiled fish.”

  “Eww.”

  “But lucky for her, Prince Cole was riding along the road, and he scooped the princess out of her carriage and onto the back of his giant horse. He took her to the ball and they danced all night.”

  Ella poked his knee. “How did she dance if she had two left feet?”

  “Oh, right. Forgot about the feet. She had a—a fairy godmother! Right! A fairy godmother who was an excellent cook, which was fortunate, because the princess loved to eat. Especially lasagna. See, she actually could dance. She just had to learn to believe it.”

  Jess caught Cole’s eye and shook her head, smiling.

  “So the princess ate the magical lasagna, thinking it would fix her foot, and then they danced all night.”

  “Boring.” Jackson rolled his eyes.

  Cole leaned forward. “I wasn’t done yet. Then the dragon attacked the ball, but the prince saved the princess again, and they rode away on his horse. They went to a magical waterfall, and the prince asked the princess to move to his kingdom for the summer, which had lots of horses, good dancing music, and much better weather. The end.”

  “But did she say yes?” Ella asked.

  Cole paused, looking at Jess, eyebrows raised. “That’s part two of the story, Ella. We’ll have to wait and see how it works out.” He stood u
p and grabbed the marshmallow sticks. “Okay, who wants s’mores?”

  For the next twenty minutes, Jess scrambled to open up packages and break up crackers and chocolate as the kids lined up with their goopy marshmallows and Cole did his best to reload their sticks and keep both kids and marshmallows from falling into the fire.

  For the first time in hours, she was too busy to think about the letters waiting in her cabin, and she was grateful for the distraction. She couldn’t think of a better way to keep thoughts of Smugglers’ Gully at bay.

  When the kids had all eaten their requisite s’mores and were out in the field playing a game of capture the flag, Cole sat back down next to her.

  He bumped her shoulder softly with his. “Hey, princess.”

  She smiled. “I do not have two left feet. Or hideous taste in music. Just saying.”

  “Good to know.” He laughed. “Are you insinuating I was telling a story about you?”

  “The princess from Bostonia? I know. It’s a stretch.”

  “Pure coincidence. I’ve been telling princess-of-Bostonia stories for—a long time.” He looked away, toward the kids, like he was embarrassed that admission had just left his mouth.

  Cole looked at her, then quickly away. “I’m glad Ma stole my chocolate.”

  “Me, too.” She laughed quietly. “I can’t believe these kids are heading home in the morning. I feel like I just met them.”

  “I know. Doesn’t take long to get attached, does it? I’ll be sad to see them go, but we’ll be so busy with the wedding tomorrow that I’m afraid we’ll be too busy to notice they’re gone.”

  “You guys weren’t kidding when you said you’d work right up until the last minute.”

  “Well, we can’t really afford to have empty cabins, so…here we are.”

  “It was really nice of you guys to let Daniel and Hayley have their wedding here for free.”

  Cole poked at the fire, spreading out the logs so they’d presumably start to fizzle out. “Daniel and Hayley are family.”

  “Well, they’re not really fam—”

  “They are.” Cole looked her directly in the eye. “You all are.”