Accidental Cowgirl

by Maggie McGinnis

  Her picture had been right beside his for the first few months, since he’d managed to access her accounts and move money through them without her knowledge. Despite her denials, she’d been a prime suspect in his scheme until the computer techs had traced thousands of transactions and proved her innocence. That had been an excruciatingly slow process.

  She felt prickles at her temples as the memories flooded over her, and even though the room was huge, she could almost feel the walls closing in on her. Oh, no. Not again. Not here, not now. Jess and Hayley were at the buffet table, which seemed about three miles away right now. She had to get outside, had to breathe some cool air, had to release the adrenaline that was starting to careen through her bloodstream. She was not going to start panicking in this room full of strangers.

  She pushed up off the couch and headed out the French doors onto the deck, trying to slow her breathing. Hurricane candles dotted the patio tables, and the moon was just a sliver on the horizon. When she reached the railing, she closed her eyes and breathed in the silence. After the constant hum and squeal of city life, the peacefulness was strangely jarring, but she felt the prickles lessening as she breathed deep, slow gulps of crisp air.

  When she opened her eyes, the moon was already higher, and she watched carefully as it grew larger. She and Gramps had spent many a night on the front porch of his farmhouse doing just this. She put her hand to her chest, feeling physical pain at the memories. She still couldn’t believe she’d trusted Wes enough to let him invest her own money, but what killed her was that she’d also introduced him to her grandparents.

  The wide front porch they’d hoped to rock on until their last breaths now belonged to a young couple from Manhattan who wanted a quaint summer place. They’d been more than happy to buy from a poor old couple who’d been bankrupted by a slimy investor.

  Kyla felt tears gather as she pictured Gramps and Gramma in their one-room efficiency at Pleasant Hill Apartments, trying to assure her that it wasn’t her fault. It was small consolation that they’d only had to live there a month before passing away within days of each other. She was convinced the energy that had made them larger than life had left them the day they’d walked out of the empty farmhouse for the last time. She still heard their voices in her head every day, and with the voices … came the guilt.

  “Careful you don’t fall off.” Decker’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Kyla wiped her eyes as she whipped around. “I was just, um, breathing the fresh air. They don’t make it like this in the city.”

  “Don’t they have those stores where you can go hook up for half an hour and breathe pure oxygen?” Decker pulled out one of the deck chairs and motioned for her to sit, then pulled out another one for himself.

  Kyla sat down gingerly. “I think those are in New York. Boston doesn’t have to try so hard to be trendy.”

  “So what brings you out to the Wild West?”

  Um, that’s something you really don’t want to know, buddy. Kyla shifted nervously. “Well, it was actually Hayley and Jess’s idea.”

  Decker raised his eyebrows. “So you’re here under duress?”

  “No! No, I’m not. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Got it.” He chuckled. “I see that clunker of a car finally got you here.”

  “Well, I almost got shot, but yes, after that it was clear sailing.”

  “Rattlesnake bites hurt.”

  “So do my ears. But thank you. I’m embarrassed I didn’t even know what it was.”

  “You’re from the city. How would you?”

  Kyla shrugged. “In my defense, I more expected to meet a bear or moose. I thought rattlesnakes hung out much farther south. Thanks for following me to the gas station.”

  Decker looked at her over the hurricane candle, the reflection adding sparks to his already-intense eyes. She bet other women melted at his knees on a regular basis. “I do apologize that you got such a lousy welcome to town.”

  “Well, I’ve had better days, that’s for sure.” But I’ve had a whole lot worse, too. She took a deep breath, glancing at him carefully, wishing she wasn’t finding him so damn … yummy. She needed to remember why she was here, why she was in an emotional state fragile enough for her friends to think spiriting her off to a ranch out west was good medicine.

  In another time, another place, with a much healthier heart and mind, she would be hard-pressed not to be attracted to Decker. Unfortunately, now was not that time. Her body was broken, her heart was smashed, and her mind? Well, God only knew what was happening in there. She certainly hadn’t figured it out yet.

  “Decker! Oh, there you are!” Cheryl blew through the door and settled her manicured hand on Decker’s shoulder, startling Kyla. “Your mother said you make a mean margarita. I’ll man the blender if you do the mixing!” Cheryl sent a fake smile Kyla’s way as she headed back toward the kitchen.

  Decker tapped his glass on the tabletop, then blew out a breath as he got up from his chair. “As much as I’d rather sit out here watching the moon rise, I’m on duty.”

  “Of course. Sure. Go make margaritas.” Kyla waved carelessly. Yes, better that he leave now so she wouldn’t have to look into those eyes any longer than necessary.

  “Would you like one?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve already been accused of being a drunk once today. I’d hate to live up to it tonight.”

  “Could be fun.” He winked.

  “Maybe another night.” Like … next year. When I’m healthy and composed and not feeling an insane urge to kiss a stranger in the moonlight, even though my logical, broken brain has already listed all the reasons not to.

  He cocked one eyebrow as he headed through the patio doors. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Chapter 5

  “Come up with any brilliant plans to save the ranch yet?” Cole checked the clipboard he’d hung in the tack room, adjusting his hat against the morning sun filtering through the barn.

  Decker slanted him a look. “Not in the past twelve hours.” Especially since he’d spent at least three of those twelve hours thinking about a certain Boston gal who had no business being on a Wild West vacation, what with her designer suit and haunted eyes.

  “Don’t you know any movie stars?”

  “Not well enough to ask them to float me a hundred-fifty thousand bucks, no.”

  “Damn.” Cole fiddled with his pencil. “Notice any sweet rich girls last night among our guests? Like maybe the brown-haired one who went beet red when she caught your eye?”

  “That’s just my natural effect on women, buddy. You should know that by now.” Decker counted out bridles and ran his hands over the straps, avoiding Cole’s eye. Natural effect, his ass. He had barely given women a second glance all summer, but hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Kyla last night.

  When he’d come across her on the highway, she’d looked like a lawyer out of her element. An hour later, she’d looked like someone’s sexy little sister in from Nebraska, in her just-right jeans and pink sweater. Her sweet, husky voice, however, made him think of late-night television ads, and that image went with neither of the previous ones.

  “Right. And you weren’t keeping track of her all evening?”

  “Definitely not. I was too busy extracting my arm from divorcée talons.”

  Cole laughed. “Can’t wait to see how long those last once she picks up some reins. Should we pack a manicure kit in the first-aid bag?”

  “I told you Ma never should have put that sunset picture in the brochure. These women come here expecting to hook up with a cowboy.”

  Cole snickered. “It’s on the website, too. She calls that her moneymaker shot. I doubt she’s gonna take it out.” He pulled the clipboard off the wall and headed toward the stable doors. “It has been tough all summer, fending off the advances of sexy women. I’m really sorry we’ve put you through this.”

  “I’m plenty able to handle sexy women, buddy. It’s the psychos that scare
me. And in every sexy body hides a demon waiting to get out.”

  “Have you considered that all women are not like Marcy?”

  Decker shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Oh, wait. Or Shelby?”

  Decker raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay, okay, or Deirdre? But seriously, she was way out there.”

  Decker folded his arms as Cole reevaluated.

  “Or … shit … Angela. I forgot about Angela. Y’know what? You’re right. You should stay well clear of females for the foreseeable future.” He pushed the door open with his hand as he looked over his shoulder. “So in that case, I guess you won’t mind if I get to know Kyla a little better? She doesn’t look like the psychotic type.” He ducked through the doors as a horse sponge came sailing toward his head.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Decker growled.

  He leaned back against the workbench and shook his head. He didn’t even know the woman. He’d only met her yesterday, and though she seemed like a normal-enough human being, he certainly had no desire to get to know her as anything but a resort guest.

  Cole was right. They were in a dream position, where women were concerned. So what was wrong with him? Any normal male would take advantage of the situation. He could count twenty different ladies this summer who’d been interested in spending more time with him.

  He groaned inwardly. Right. Time. No, these women wanted to be bedded by a cowboy. They wanted to enact their fantasies out here in a cabin on a horse ranch. Two weeks of fun, and off they’d go, back to their city lives, back to their jobs … back to their boyfriends. Or, God help him, husbands. Ten years ago, that would have sounded just about perfect. Lots of sex, no strings attached.

  He shook his head slowly, blowing out a breath. When had he started longing for strings?

  “You ready?” Cole poked his head back through the doorway.

  “Coming,” Decker growled as he followed Cole out to the sunny paddock attached to the north side of the barn. The sky was blindingly blue, the air still crackling with morning chill. He rattled a metal grain bucket as he headed toward the gate where the horses were gathering.

  “All right.” Cole consulted his clipboard. “Let’s start with the Perrys.”

  “That one’s easy.” Decker opened the gate for a plodding Appaloosa. “We’ll put Tom on Dapple here. Maureen on Goldie.”

  “Hard to fall off horses that barely move, you’re right. Okay, next is Theresa.”

  “Which one is she, again?”

  “Blond-ish, five-foot-ten, checked ‘Skilled’ on Ma’s registration sheet.”

  “How old do you think she is, anyway?”

  Cole cocked his head. “According to God? Or her plastic surgeon?”

  “We’ll say thirty-two. Let’s put her on Pippi. Who’s next?”

  “Cheryl, who also claims to be skilled. Could be an easy day!”

  “She’s the one with the talons. Looks like about one-sixty?”

  “Bet her license doesn’t say that.”

  “Well, her horse is gonna say it if we guess wrong. Let’s put her on Rocky.” Decker put a knee into Dapple’s bulging tummy and tightened the saddle. “There, you old coot. See if you can make it through the next couple of hours without a nap, wouldja?” Dapple nickered and nosed Decker’s pocket. “All right, all right.” Decker pulled out a carrot nub and held it to Dapple’s nose, then led him to the mounting area.

  “Boston ladies are next, Deck. Care to guess any of their weights?”

  “I’d rather not. Could be dangerous.”

  Cole chuckled as he looked around the paddock. “God, they’d kill us if they knew we were out here estimating sizes right now.”

  “Well, it’d sure be easier if Ma would just put it on the registration form, but she refuses. Says everybody would lie, anyway, so it wouldn’t do any good.”

  “What is it with women and weight, anyhow?”

  “That’s a mystery we have the wrong chromosomes to ever solve. Let’s put Jess on Sky Dancer. Hayley can have Twinkle, and we’ll put Kyla on Kismet.”

  Cole looked sidelong at Decker. “You never let anyone ride Kismet.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure there’s no spa option?” Kyla rested her leg on the couch cushion for a moment, checking her watch. She longed to curl back up in her queen-sized bed with the down comforter while Jess and Hayley went out to meet the horses, but her friends were waiting, already dressed in their riding gear.

  She groaned as she sat up straighter, adjusting the floppy therapy weight on her lower leg. Bracing herself on the edge of the loveseat, she pushed her foot forward, trying to bring it level with her knee. Twenty times was her goal today, two more than her therapist had assigned. Every single one still hurt like hell, but she bit her lip so Hayley and Jess wouldn’t know.

  She had no idea how she was going to swing her leg over a horse today, if she could even convince herself to get near one. The metal rod that stretched from her knee to her hip had helped her femur go from crushed fragments to an actual bone again, but she felt its presence every minute.

  Jess walked out of her bedroom, pulling on a soft jacket that skimmed her hips perfectly. “If there was a spa, you’d miss the chance to spend more time staring at Cowboy Decker.” She sat down on the couch, patting Kyla’s thigh gently. “Do you want some of my magic lotion for your leg?”

  Kyla smiled. “I think I’d better save the magic lotion for later, Jess. And I resent your implication that I was staring at Decker last night. That Cheryl woman has already staked a claim. You had to have seen that.”

  Hayley shook her head. “I’m hoping he’s got the maturity not to prefer the type who hangs all over a perfect stranger advertising her wares.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Kyla grimaced. “I’m not here to find a cowboy, anyway.” Maybe if she told herself that enough times, she’d stop thinking about Decker.

  Hayley put her index finger on Kyla’s toes, increasing her resistance. “C’mon, you can do it.” She grinned when Kyla glared. “Just trying to help. For two weeks, our mission is to get you better. All of you.”

  When Kyla reached her twentieth leg lift, Hayley pulled off the weight and gave her a quick hug. “Good job. Bertha will be proud.”

  “Do not remind me of her this week.” Kyla shivered. Bertha was five-foot-ten, and two hundred pounds of slave-driving physical therapist—and Kyla was desperate to be free of her as soon as humanly possible. Thus the extra exercises.

  As Kyla packed up her PT supplies, Hayley checked out the schedule on the wall and looked at the clock. “Ooh, ladies, it’s time for our first riding lesson!”

  Jess reached down and pulled Kyla off the loveseat. “C’mon, Kyla. Time to go meet our steeds.”

  Hayley chortled. “And our horses.”

  Kyla groaned as she stood up, limping a little bit. “If I die this week, you guys are responsible.”

  Jess and Hayley put their arms around her as they walked toward the door. Hayley leaned her head close. “If you die, can I please have your apartment?”

  As they headed up the pathway to the stable, Kyla eyed the riding ring nervously. Seven horses were lined up along the fence, and though they looked calm enough, she couldn’t shake her fear. She put her hands to her temples as she felt icy prickles start. Dammit. Not again.

  * * *

  “Oh, jeez. These horses are really big,” Kyla whispered as they entered the corral. She slowed her steps as she eyed them. “Jessie, I don’t know if I can do this.” She started to back toward the gate, but Jess hooked her elbow through Kyla’s and pulled her gently forward.

  “Gorgeous, aren’t they?” Jess breathed. Kyla wasn’t sure whether she was ignoring her on purpose, or was truly mesmerized.

  Hayley nodded. “They’re beautiful. This was the kind of animal I was meant to work with, not the psychotic Fifis of the city.”

  Kyla backed up a step as one of the horses snorted. Her head still prickled and she
knew she was breathing too shallowly, dammit. She leaned on the fence for a moment, concentrating on pushing more air out than she was taking in.

  Hayley and Jess had been so determined to help her get away from the city that they’d apparently forgotten she had a well-conditioned, utter terror of horses.

  Her hand tightened around the fence post as she checked out the line of them waiting patiently along the corral. She really wished she could view them as anything other than a threat to her bodily health right now.

  “Wonder which ones are ours?” Jess asked.

  Hayley pointed at Cole. “Let’s go check with Cowboy Cole. Looks like he’s the one with the clipboard.”

  As Jess and Hayley headed toward him, Kyla hung back at the gate, still taking deep breaths and letting them out as slowly as she could manage. She’d been thrown in fourth grade, after a runaway ride that had lasted six lifetimes, and had absolutely no idea how she was going to get herself onto a horse this week without throwing up.

  Hayley headed back her way, pointing to a russet-colored horse with a jet black mane and tail. “That one’s Kismet. She’s yours. Mine’s right next to her.” She pointed to a white mare with a gray mane and tail. “That’s Twinkle. Jess is on the next one. Sky Dancer, I think he said. I love these names!” She pointed down the line to where Jess was heading for a dark brown giant of a horse. “C’mon, Kyla. Let’s meet our babies.”

  Kyla hugged the fence line, reluctantly stepping toward where the horses were waiting, reins draped over the top bar. None of them looked like they were truly tied there, but she had to admit none of them looked likely to stage an escape, either.

  The sun was taking the edge off the morning chill, and the sky was so intensely blue it almost hurt her eyes to look up. She’d never thought of Boston as particularly smog-ridden, but maybe she’d been looking at the sky through layers of acrid exhaust all these years?