Accidental Cowgirl

by Maggie McGinnis

  “They’re just nightmares, sweetie. They’re not real.”

  “But Jessie, I never save him. Never. What does that say about me?”

  Jess picked up a twig and started breaking it into little pieces, tossing them into the water one by one. “It says that you’re killing yourself with guilt, that’s what. Kyla, you have to stop blaming yourself. You had no way of knowing what Wes was up to. He was a master manipulator. This was the work of someone who bilked a whole herd of people out of millions of dollars. As much as it hurts to admit, you were just one of many who fell for it. He had serious skills. You have got to stop blaming yourself.”

  Jess squeezed her shoulder. “You can’t turn back time, honey. Your grandparents saw you lose everything, too. They fell for Wes’s spiel just as hard as you did. Would they have met him without you introducing them? Probably not. You’re right. But could they have met someone just like him and had the same thing happen? You never know.”

  “No, they never would have invested that kind of money with a stranger. No way. They did it because I trusted Wes, and they trusted me.” Kyla shook her head. “This is why I have nightmares.”

  Chapter 8

  Decker finished his teleconference with the California office, then sat back in his dad’s big black office chair. It was a good thing he had a partner and a sharpshooter intern out in L.A., or he’d never have been able to come out to Montana for the summer. So far they were holding down the fort just fine, as long as he was only a phone call away. Couldn’t last forever, though.

  He swiveled his chair around to look out the huge bay window behind him. This side of the house faced the barn and paddocks, and the guest cabins beyond. The ranch’s land stretched farther than he could possibly see, and the view from any room in the house could be on a drugstore postcard.

  Lodge, he corrected himself. Now that they were a ranch with paying guests, the house had to be called a lodge.

  He stood up and strolled toward the window, hands in his pockets. He looked out at the stables, at the fresh boards he and Cole had nailed up earlier in the spring. The paddock fences had all gotten a new coat of whitewash, and for the first time in anyone’s memory, the water pump in the stable had gone a full month without breaking. Maybe because they’d actually fixed it with the right parts for the first time in twenty years.

  He shook his head. Decker Senior had been famous for his “solutions.” He’d thought nothing of blowing a few thousand dollars in Vegas every month, but spend a dollar forty-nine for a float valve? No way. They could use a toy silo and a piece of rope. That’d work just fine.

  As he stared out the window, he was hit with a longing that was almost painful. This had been his home. He’d loved every acre. Loved every beast that had kept him busy from dawn to dusk. Had planned to live here, marry here, raise kids here. Die here. But everything had changed the day Emily had died.

  She had been his father’s favorite, hands down. No matter what trouble she got into, Decker Senior would find a way to make light of it. While Decker and Cole were forbidden from entering their father’s office, Emily had spent hours curled up on the big leather chair in the corner, keeping her dad company. While Decker and Cole had been put to work practically once they could walk, Emily had done only the chores she cared to do, when she cared to do them. Most of the time, Decker and Cole had ended up finishing them for her.

  Despite that, Emily had a magnetic light that had drawn them all to her. More than simply the gift of being the little girl in a family of men, she’d had a way of collecting people around her and surrounding them with giggly warmth. When Decker and Cole should have been pissed to have to handle her chores as well as their own, they pretty much just finished them for her while she played in the hayloft, tossing pebbles down onto their heads.

  Unfortunately for all of them, the one thing Emily had never managed to learn was that her actions had consequences, and sometimes … they were deadly.

  With a heavy sigh, he glanced toward the darkening pathway to the cabins. As much as he’d tried to focus on work all afternoon, he hadn’t been able to get Kyla out of his head. The way she’d gone six shades of gray before stumbling backward this morning had been alarming at best. He’d seen fainting before, had even seen it once this summer when a guest had sliced open her foot in the brook, but he knew whatever had been happening to Kyla was far more than a fainting spell.

  When Cole had whispered her pulse rate to him, his EMT training had kicked in and he’d realized what was going on. She hadn’t resisted when he’d lifted her up and walked her to the brook, and her shaky little body pressed against his had made him feel protective and … well, needed, for the first time in a long while.

  As much as she’d leaned on him, though, he knew what she really needed was professional help, and he sure hoped she was getting some. He had no idea why Jimmy’s and Pete’s actions had sent her into a full-scale anxiety attack this morning, but clearly she was carrying some major invisible baggage.

  He’d been trying to figure out how to ask her about it when Jess had interrupted them by the brook, but it was probably better that way. He had a feeling there was no way Kyla would open up to a practical stranger, not about something like this. He’d just have to keep an eye on her … as the owner of the ranch, of course, who was concerned about his guest. Nothing more than that.

  His eyes locked on Kyla’s cabin as he switched off the lamp and headed out the door. The tree frogs were out, and he could hear nickers and thumps from the barn as he passed it. As he got closer to her cabin, he could see Jess and Hayley sitting on the porch swing, idly pushing it back and forth in the glow of the porch light.

  “What do you mean, you think you drugged her?” he heard Hayley ask. His ears perked up.

  “Well, I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to help the poor girl sleep! Have you seen how purple her eyes are?”

  “Jess, you’re an herbalist. Aren’t you supposed to know how much to give someone?”

  “I do. I do! But apparently I misjudged her weight when I made the tea. How much has she lost, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Twenty pounds, maybe? And she didn’t have any extra to start with.”

  “Twenty pounds? Oh, no.”

  Decker paused his footsteps, anxious to hear more before they realized he was there.

  Hayley straightened on the swing. “Jess, how much did you give her?”

  Decker could see Jess visibly squirm. “Enough. Let’s just say she’ll be well-rested when she gets up.”

  “You didn’t give her enough to hurt her, did you?”

  “God, no.”

  Decker’s shoulders eased at Jess’s words, and he didn’t even know they’d been tense in the first place. He started forward again, pausing at the bottom of the cabin steps. “Ladies. How’s everyone this evening?” Both Hayley and Jess jumped.

  Jess crossed her arms. “Good. Fine. We’re good.” Hayley nodded, crossing her arms as well. Huh. Didn’t take a psychologist to recognize that body language.

  “How’s Kyla doing?”

  “She’s fine. Just resting,” Hayley answered.

  Decker rested his elbows on the porch railing, looking each of them in the eye in turn. As much as he hated to admit it, he was way more concerned about Kyla than he should be. She was a guest, and he’d already made sure she was in good hands with her friends. Unless something else happened, that’s where he should be leaving it. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering what might have happened to her to cause the panic attacks.

  His self-preservation brain was telling him to run before he knew her enough to start caring.

  * * *

  The moon was bright in a cloudless sky, giving an eerie glow to the pathway as Kyla padded softly away from her cabin later that night. It was just after midnight, and once again, she couldn’t sleep. This time her PTSD issues were assisted by whatever had been in the tea Jess had made her earlier. She’d slept away the entire afternoon, and wh
ile her body was probably grateful, here she was, wide awake once again while the rest of the world slumbered.

  She could see soft lights glowing in the stable, so she decided to head that direction. She was determined to make headway with her abject fear of horses, and maybe the beasts wouldn’t be so scary when they were penned up in stalls.

  Maybe she could find some carrots and work on bribing Kismet while no one was looking. For the next riding lesson, she was determined to be calm, yet authoritative. If that happened to involve some undercover carrots and sugar cubes, no one had to know but her.

  She took a fortifying breath as she neared the open stable doorway, suddenly not quite so confident. She peered in, feeling like a trespasser. The lights were low, and she could hear soft scuffles and snorts, along with some contented munching. As she walked softly into the stable, she breathed deeply, reminded again of her grandparents’ farm.

  The mixture of hay and grain and sawdust brought her back twenty years to the two weeks every year when life was simple and problems could be solved with a bowl of ice cream.

  All summer, she’d long for those two weeks in August when she could take off her fancy dresses and Mary Janes and hair bows and put on some ratty jeans and barn boots.

  Gramma had baked cookies every day she was there, and Kyla smiled as she remembered how Gramps had always snuck a new package of bubble gum under her pillow for when she arrived.

  Kyla shook her head and peered over the first stall door on the left. A little wooden sign said Twinkle. Hayley’s horse-for-the-week opened one eye to glance her way, but that was the extent of her movement. “I know, Twinkle. Even horses don’t want to be awake at this hour.”

  At the next stall, a huge horse head popped up as she went by, and she stifled a screech as she jumped backward. Sky Dancer snorted at her and thumped the stall floor a couple of times with her hoof. Kyla pointed a warning finger her way. “You don’t scare me, lady.” Only because she was behind bars, but the horse didn’t need to know that.

  She moved down the row of stalls until she found Kismet, who was chewing contentedly on a mouthful of hay from the net in the corner of her stall. “Hey, Kismet,” she said softly. Kismet made a soft sound in response as she swung her head toward Kyla.

  Kyla tentatively reached out her hand, but pulled it back when Kismet came toward her. Kismet snorted and bounced her head a couple of times, and Kyla couldn’t help but giggle. She slowly reached her hand over the stall door again and Kismet responded by bumping her nose to Kyla’s palm.

  She gingerly rubbed the mare’s nose. “You’re a sweetheart, Kismet. But you still have really big teeth.”

  “Are you trying to bribe your horse again, Kyla?”

  At Decker’s voice, Kyla swung around guiltily, her heart thumping. She put her hand to her chest. “Decker! You scared me!” Oh, Lord. Here she was in her yoga pants and sweatshirt, hair in a sloppy ponytail. She thought everyone had turned in for the night.

  “I was just coming down to check on Moon Gypsy. She’s due to foal soon.”

  “I’m really sorry if I shouldn’t be in here. I couldn’t sleep, and it looked so cozy in here, so I headed this way.”

  Decker glanced at her sidelong as he checked Moon Gypsy in the next stall. “You’re always welcome in the barns. But are you sure you’re not sleepwalking again? I’d hate to have you saddle up and head out for a ride in the middle of the night.”

  She was going to shoot Jess for coming up with that stupid cover story. “Nope, not this time.”

  He opened a sliding door to peek in at the pregnant mare, then continued down the line of stalls, peering over the tops as he walked toward the other end of the small barn. “You feeling better?”

  “I am, thanks.” And please feel free to forget that I almost collapsed and am probably a complete nutter, okay?

  “You finding it too quiet to sleep? I don’t know how you city gals ever sleep. Too much noise.”

  Kyla shrugged. “You get used to it. It does actually feel a little strange not to have all that noise.”

  “I know.”

  He knew? Wasn’t he a born-and-bred Montana boy? “Have you spent much time in the city?”

  “Enough to know how noisy it is at night, yes.” He came back toward her and turned on the faucet outside Kismet’s stall. He unwound the hose and started filling a couple of big buckets.

  Kyla reached out to pet Kismet again, taking a deep breath. “Listen, I’m, um, sorry again about earlier. If I fail first-aid training, do I have to stay at the ranch and clean saddles or something while you guys do the trail ride?” She paused her hand, making Kismet snort and bump it again.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you hoping so?”

  Kyla held up her thumb and forefinger and squeezed them together. “Maybe just a wee smidge?”

  Decker laughed. “No such luck, sweetheart. Cole and I are well-trained. So unless something happens to us out there, we’re good to go.” He shut the water off and wound the hose back up. Then he cocked his head, eyebrows raised in a challenge. “You planning to join us for riding lessons in the morning?”

  She nodded quickly. No need for him to figure out just how frightened she still was about the whole horse thing. What if she had another panic attack while she was on horseback? She shivered as she tried to tamp down the thought and sound way more confident than she felt. “I’ll be there.”

  “So you’re bribing Kismet in preparation?”

  “I wasn’t! I just came in to say hi. Swear.” Kyla put both hands in the air. “Look, no carrots.” Good thing she hadn’t located them before he’d come in.

  “Mmm-hmm.” He came back to Kismet’s stall, where she still leaned. He rested one shoulder on the wall, facing Kyla. Damn, he was just too much gorgeousness in one package.

  Wes had been handsome as well, but in an Ivy League, GQ sort of way. His hair was trimmed every three weeks, he shopped at whatever boutique was this year’s trendiest, and he worked out with a trainer named Serge. No kidding.

  Decker’s biceps, on the other hand, looked honed by hard work, not barbells. As did his pecs … his thighs … and his shoulders. Kyla did a mental head-slap. Had he seen her sliding her eyes up and down his body? Had she? Or was she just thinking about doing so? Oh, Lordy, sleep deprivation was taking its toll.

  She felt an insane urge to kiss him right now, but couldn’t sort out whether it was because she felt so vulnerable, because he was so damn gorgeous, or because the smells and sounds and soft lighting gave her a peace she hadn’t felt since way too long ago.

  An amused expression came over Decker’s face. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yep. Definitely. I’m good.” Oh, holy babble. Again.

  He pushed slowly away from the wall. “I need to go close up the south barn. You okay to get back to your cabin? Or will I find you wandering the hills in the morning?”

  She shivered, both from the nighttime chill and the thought of getting lost in the hills around the ranch. “I have a horrible sense of direction, so I’ll probably avoid hill-wandering ’til week two. At least on purpose. Can’t predict the sleepwalking.”

  “Should we tie you to your bed at night?” He winked, but looked like he’d only realized his double entendre after the words had escaped his mouth.

  Kyla gulped. Oh, he definitely did not want to know where her mind had just gone with that suggestion. “I’ll try to behave.”

  Decker turned to the light switch and powered the lights down lower. “You look cold. You should head back before the weasels come out to feed.”

  Kyla’s eyes widened. “Weasels?”

  “Yep. They sense fear, just like horses. Only they’re meaner. They bite ankles.”

  Kyla quickly scanned the area around her feet, frowning at the darkness beyond the soft lighting of the barn. “I don’t remember seeing anything about ankle-biting weasels in the brochure.”

  Decker reached up above the door frame and grabbed a black flashlight
. He clicked it on and handed it to her, leaning close to whisper in her ear. “Just walk quickly. They’re kinda slow.”

  Kyla narrowed her eyes at him as she took hold of the flashlight, suppressing the delicious shiver his husky whisper was sending through her body. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  Decker’s grin faded as he looked at her face. “I’m kidding. The meanest thing you’re likely to run into around here is a skunk. And they give plenty of warning. If the tail goes up, run like hell. Or you could always sing all the way back to your cabin if it makes you feel better.”

  “Sing?”

  “Best way to scare off animals.”

  Kyla’s shoulders relaxed. “You’ve never even heard my singing. Maybe it wouldn’t scare them at all. Maybe I’m like … Snow White.”

  “Snow White?”

  Kyla could feel her cheeks redden. Where did she come up with these inane comments? “Snow White. The Seven Dwarfs? She sings to the animals? They love her? Never mind.”

  “Sorry.” Decker chuckled. “I forgot she had the power to mesmerize small animals and men with her voice.”

  “Maybe I do, too.” What?! What in the world had Jess put in her tea this afternoon?

  “I look forward to it.” Decker grinned as he shooed her out the door.

  Chapter 9

  Kyla awoke to the strong smell of cocoa and the feel of someone sitting down on the edge of her bed. “Good morning, Sunshine,” Jess sang.

  Kyla opened one bleary eye. “Ugh.”

  “Spoken like a true morning person. Does the fact that you’re actually lying in bed at this hour mean you slept?”

  “No. Go away.”

  “Sorry, sweetie. I’m under strict instructions to pry you out of this cabin and drag you to our riding lesson this morning.”

  “Under whose instructions?” Kyla opened her other eye and propped up on her elbows. Decker’s?

  “Hayley’s.” Oh. Why did that disappoint her just the tiniest bit?