Accidental Cowgirl

by Maggie McGinnis

  “Was she too scared to come in and wake me up herself?”

  “No, she just knows I’m sweeter about it.”

  “You do bring cocoa.”

  “I do!” She waved the mug under Kyla’s nose. “C’mon, little cowgirl. Up and at ’em.”

  Kyla groaned and rose to sitting, pulling the mug out of Jess’s hands. “We seriously have another riding lesson this morning? Already?”

  Jess nodded. “Apparently it’s ranch policy to have us be semiskilled before they take us out into the wild. Imagine.”

  “They do realize that for some of us, it’s a wasted effort, right?” Kyla took a grateful sip.

  “Now, now, sweetie. You’ve had one lesson. One. And you didn’t fall off or anything. There’s hope even for you.”

  An hour later, Kyla gritted her teeth as her thighs and butt slapped the saddle. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Decker had called Trot! and Kyla quickly realized it was one of Kismet’s favorite words. They’d gone from a nice, sedate, relaxing stroll to this ridiculous bounce in the span of two steps. Her thigh was screaming, but Kyla was determined not to show it.

  “Tighten your thighs. Hold on with your knees.” Decker called instructions from the center of the ring, but she was too busy trying to stay on to even think about making her knees do anything in particular. “Are we all having fun yet?” Decker called.

  Jess, who looked to be one with her horse, smiled gleefully. Hayley sent a cheeky grin Kyla’s way. Tom and Maureen, when Kyla chanced a glance, were holding their own, though they were looking almost as bouncy as Kyla felt. Cheryl and Theresa were just strolling up to the corral, decked out once again in riding gear that looked painted on. Kyla looked down at her peach V-neck T-shirt and faded jeans and sighed. Oh, well. At least she was comfortable.

  “Okay, walk.” Decker called, and the horses all slowed to a walking pace. Ahh. Much better. Kyla smiled for the first time since the lesson had begun. They’d had to bridle and saddle their own horses this morning. She’d done so, and everything was even in the right place. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

  “Better, Ms. Bennett?” Decker winked. He glanced around the circle and said, “Ready?” Kyla gritted her teeth and swore softly. He was going to make them trot again, dammit. “Trot!”

  Yep, he was. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. She had to be doing something wrong. She was tipping to the left and her saddle felt a little loose. Maybe that’s because they were trotting counterclockwise, though? She scooched her butt to the right, but no. She was definitely tipping. That couldn’t be good.

  She scooched again, but this time it sent her more off balance than she’d already been. Kismet shook her head, but kept trotting. Kyla braced her knees and bent her body to the right, trying to rebalance herself in the saddle while holding tight to the reins. Suddenly, it seemed like the saddle completely came loose, and with a big “Oof!” she landed on her side in the sawdust.

  Kismet stopped immediately and snorted. Decker reached her in two quick strides. “Kyla, what happened?”

  Kyla was so mortified that she’d just fallen off a barely-moving horse that she considered faking a concussion just to avoid admitting her stupidity. She looked up at him and shook her head. “Don’t worry, Cole. I know who you are. I know who I am. And the president of the United States is Madonna.”

  Decker cracked a smile. “Good. No concussion.” He reached down for her hand and closed his firmly around it, pulling her to her feet. She stood up gingerly, but nothing seemed to be broken. Score one for sawdust. Jess and Hayley had pulled closer, looking concerned. Cheryl and Theresa, on the other hand, were smirking from across the ring.

  “The saddle sort of started sliding.” Kyla brushed off her jeans.

  “Did you try saying Whoa? The horse is trained to stop, you know.” He raised his eyebrows, then pointed at the saddle, which was hanging upside down under Kismet’s belly. “Huh. That’s not good, is it?”

  Kyla nodded. “I know, right? No way I could have stayed on.” Maybe she wasn’t such a terrible horsewoman after all. I mean, who could have possibly stayed put in that saddle?

  “You didn’t put it on right.”

  Ouch. “What do you mean? It looked fine when I put it on. Right side up, even!”

  Decker smiled. “I know. But did you give Kismet a little knee to the tummy to make sure she wasn’t holding her breath on you?”

  Kyla grimaced. “Um, no. That seemed kind of mean. I didn’t think she’d try to trick me.”

  “Well, she did.” He dropped her hand and pulled Kismet’s saddle back where it belonged, then tightened the girth around her tummy. As he did so, he growled in Kismet’s ear. “Kismet, behave.” Then he put his knee to her tummy and gave a gentle push. “Breathe, you brat.” Kismet looked around at him and blew out a noisy breath, then cocked her neck like a diva.

  Kyla couldn’t help but laugh. “She seriously was holding her breath so I wouldn’t tighten her saddle?”

  “Yep. Oldest horse trick in the book. They do it all the time.”

  “Which you told us. I know. You don’t have to say it.”

  “Good.” He put his hands in a cup beside Kismet. “Now, up you go.”

  Kyla shook her head. “Um, I think I’ll sit the rest out. I’m fine. She’s probably tired.” She started to rub her aching thigh, but stopped so he wouldn’t notice.

  Decker gave her a pointed look. “You fall, you get back on. Ranch rule.”

  Kyla took a deep breath. She knew she had to do it. And besides, everyone else had stopped their horses and was looking at her, waiting for her to mount. She put her foot in Decker’s cupped hands and he lifted her onto Kismet’s back. She had to admit, she loved how light he made her feel when he did that.

  She settled back in the saddle and picked up the reins. Decker slapped Kismet’s flank and said, “Good girl,” then walked back to the center of the ring. Kyla wasn’t sure whether he’d been referring to her or to Kismet, but either way, she’d gotten back on. Progress was progress.

  “Everybody walk ’til I get back,” Decker called over his shoulder as he headed for the barn. Kyla smiled as she guided Kismet back to her place in the circle of horses, but the smile on her lips died as she looked toward the paddock rails.

  “Who’s that?” Hayley pulled up beside her, pointing her chin at the fence.

  “That’s the cop who thought I was drinking the other day.”

  “Seriously?” Hayley snorted. “And now he just saw you fall off a horse.”

  “Which was hardly moving. I know, Hayls. Thank you.”

  “What do you think he’s doing here?”

  “I have no idea, but I don’t like it.”

  “Don’t worry. Decker won’t let him arrest you.”

  “That’s very comforting. Again, thank you.” Kyla tried not to look at Roscoe as her horse slowly circled the ring, but she could feel his eyes on her.

  Had he tracked her to Whisper Creek? Her stomach squeezed dangerously as she took another quick glance at him.

  Why?

  * * *

  “Who here’s ever eaten rattlesnake?” Ma held up her wooden spoon, pointing around the circle. Her pink plaid shirt and faded jeans strained as she squatted next to the fire. Kyla and the other guests were gathered around the fire pit just downhill from the stables, sitting on logs. Campfire Cooking was this afternoon’s agenda item, the first lesson Kyla hadn’t actually feared. However, if she hadn’t seen Decker throw the rattlesnake he’d shot, she would be worried right now that they were about to have it for lunch.

  Gramps had taught her new campfire meals every summer. Hobo stew was always his favorite, but Kyla also baked a mean chocolate cake over the fire. Rattlesnake, however, wasn’t an item she’d ever cooked … or eaten, and she was pretty content to keep it that way.

  She watched Ma deftly manage the fire, and realized with a start that she had already stopped calling her Mrs. Driscoll, just as predicted. How had that happened?

  Ma laughed. �
�Don’t be scared. You’re not gonna eat it this week, either. I’m gonna show you how to make a spit and how to start a fire. We’ll send you off with plenty of food, but if the food gets lost, it’s always good to know how to cook a rabbit if you need to.”

  Kyla shivered and Ma looked pointedly her way. “Don’t worry. Tastes just like chicken.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jess whispered, “I know plants. I can find us things to eat.”

  “Oh, you know plants,” Hayley guffawed quietly. “Says the one who OD’d Kyla yesterday?”

  After Ma had helped them each make a spit and start a fire, she handed out metal bowls and bags of pancake ingredients. As she stirred, Kyla heard an engine revving up near the house. When she looked up, she saw a cloud of dust coming toward them.

  A white convertible materialized out of the dust, and Kyla squinted to see who might be at the wheel as the car pulled up beside the open barn door. The driver opened the car door and slid out, then closed it and leaned expectantly on the hood as she slid her sunglasses to the top of her head.

  Kyla’s jaw dropped. Um, wow. Even from a hundred yards away, Kyla could see that she was salon-blond and gym-sculpted, right down to her toes. Hardly dressed for visiting a horse barn, either, in her high-heeled sandals, white mini, and sparkly blue top.

  Kyla’s hand stilled on her spoon as she spotted Decker coming out of the barn to greet the blonde. Was this his girlfriend? She hated the way her stomach sank at the notion. But then again, why wouldn’t he have one? He was gorgeous, sweet, and probably rich to boot. Kyla sighed. If history was any indication, of course he’d have a girlfriend who looked like this one. She and Alexis Nightingale would look perfect together on a magazine cover.

  As she tried not to watch, the blonde reached out for Decker and pulled him into a hug, then gave him a quick kiss. Dammit. It really was his girlfriend. Kyla’s shoulders drooped and she sighed. Perhaps louder than she’d meant to, as Ma looked quizzically her way, then toward the barn. Kyla saw her lips tighten, but wasn’t sure why.

  “Who d’you suppose that is?” Hayley elbowed Kyla, lifting her chin toward the stable.

  Kyla shrugged her shoulders. “Looks like Malibu Barbie.”

  Hayley snorted, which made Ma look their way. “Sorry, Ma. Bug on my nose.”

  Ma raised her eyebrows. “Don’t forget the baking soda, folks. If you do, you’ll be eating pancake-flavored hockey pucks.”

  Jess leaned toward Kyla. “Check out Cheryl.”

  Kyla looked across the fire where Theresa was measuring powdered milk while Cheryl stirred idly. Theresa’s eyes were on the measuring spoons, but Cheryl’s were glued to Decker and the woman by the stable.

  Hayley whispered, “She’s got the Vulcan death stare down to a science.”

  “Years of practice, I imagine.”

  “Cheryl?” Ma’s voice startled them. “You okay, dear? You stir that too long, you’re gonna have pancake soup.”

  Cheryl pulled her eyes back to the goop in her bowl. “Fine, yes. Thank you.” When she saw that Ma was checking Tom and Maureen’s bowl, she looked back at Decker.

  Kyla couldn’t help but follow her eyes. Damn, they looked good together. She could totally imagine the voice-over she’d do for their TV ad. Her agent would call it a hot-voice job, maybe for a Caribbean resort or couples-only hotel. Decker and Barbie here would be frolicking on white sands while Kyla’s voice promised hot sun, hot food, hot fun. She’d have to do that winking thing with her voice, and in combination with the bronzed stars of the ad, the resort’s reservation numbers would triple.

  “Kyla, sweetie. You can stop stirring now.” Jess gingerly removed the bowl from Kyla’s lap. “You’re going to need to pay attention. The next step involves fire.”

  Kyla tried to concentrate. She swore she did. Cripes, she’d already blown the first-aid training and riding lessons. If she failed Campfire Cooking, they were going to send her home. But try as hard as she might, she couldn’t pry her eyes from Decker and the blonde.

  Decker stood with his legs apart and arms crossed, comfortable-looking. Barbie Doll, on the other hand, made the most of her assets, making sure her size Ds were prominently displayed. Her left hand flitted to Decker’s arm periodically, where it sometimes stayed longer than others. Damn, damn, double damn.

  Kyla shook her head and forced herself to focus on Ma and the other guests. There was no point mooning over Decker. Clearly he was spoken for.

  Chapter 10

  “Kyla, honey, will you give me a hand with these dishes?” Ma looked Kyla’s way as everyone got to their feet around the fire. The pancakes had been surprisingly good, though exceptionally hard not to burn.

  Hayley chortled softly. “Dish duty for the girl who wasn’t paying attention. We’ll see you back at the cabin.”

  Ma gathered a pile of dishes into a plastic basket and motioned toward the main house. “Obviously next week you’ll be cleaning these up outside, but when there’s a sink full of hot running water within my view, I’m gonna use it.”

  “That sounds very practical.” Kyla laughed. “I imagine there will be enough roughing it going on next week.”

  They reached the house and headed into the kitchen, where Ma piled the dishes next to a big white farmhouse sink. Kyla sighed as she looked around the enormous space. The room was painted a pale yellow, with blue gingham curtains at the three windows. A light oak table sat in a breakfast nook, with fresh daisies in a blue vase. The stainless steel appliances and huge stove were the only giveaways that this was a commercially functional space. The counters were spotless, but it smelled like Ma had just pulled out a batch of sugar cookies.

  “It smells so good in here. Did you bake this morning?”

  Ma smiled slyly as she filled the sink with soapy water. “Can’t say as I did.”

  “Well, it sure smells like it.”

  “That would be the candle over on the stove. Old B&B trick I read about when I was getting ready to open the ranch to guests.” Ma handed Kyla a dish towel, then started washing the dishes they’d used outside. “So, honey, I’m not real good at being graceful about these things, but I wanted to ask you about yesterday.”

  Oh, no. “Um, what about yesterday?”

  Ma looked out the window toward the stables and fire ring. “Well, I was standing here yesterday when Jimmy and Pete pulled their little shenanigans.”

  “Oh.” Which meant she’d also seen Kyla’s panic attack. Kyla dried the plate in her hands, keeping her eyes down. Was this conversation going to end with some version of We’re sorry, but we’re concerned that you’re too unstable to continue with this venture? “I’m sorry. Really. It was just a little graphic for my tender tummy, I guess.”

  Ma paused, looking her directly in the eye. “Kyla, honey, I’ve seen a lot of tender tummies, and I have to be honest with you. It looked like more than that to me. Maybe it wasn’t, and I don’t want to pry, but I do want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Kyla sighed, running the dish towel over a plate. “I’m okay. I am. I’m sorry if I worried anyone. Really, I’m fine.” Riiight. Kyla stacked the plate, avoiding Ma’s eyes.

  “Hmm.” Ma clattered a pile of bowls into the water and swished the sponge around. She was silent as she washed and rinsed, looking only from the sink to the drain board. Kyla frowned. Gramma had used the same technique to get her to talk. Silence was a powerful conversation starter.

  Kyla watched Ma wash and rinse eight bowls before she broke down. In a soft voice, she said, “It was a little more than a tender tummy, you’re right.”

  Ma’s sponge stopped moving as she turned toward Kyla. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Kyla wrung her dish towel nervously. “Maybe?”

  Ma put a soapy finger under Kyla’s chin, nudging it upward until their eyes met. “Oh, honey.” She dried her hands on a gingham towel and motioned toward the sunny breakfast nook, reaching behind her for the teapot. Moments later, Kyla had her hands wrapped around
a stoneware mug, breathing in steamy cinnamon tea. Ma picked up her own mug and sipped. “So what happened?”

  Kyla blew out a breath. Did she want to talk about it? Ma made her feel like she’d wrap her up in a cinnamon-scented quilt and tell her everything was going to be okay. On the other hand, Ma might think she was a complete basket case who shouldn’t be anywhere near her ranch … or her son. No way was she going to tell her about Wes and the trial. Maybe just the accident, as that would help explain her panic attack.

  She put her mug down. “I was in a car accident a year ago. A, um, a really bad one.”

  Ma put her tea down and reached her hand out to cover Kyla’s. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

  “I … I had a head injury, so I don’t actually remember the accident. But some part of my brain obviously must, because Jimmy and Pete’s little exercise yesterday triggered, well …”

  “An anxiety attack?” Ma guessed, biting her lower lip.

  Kyla nodded miserably. “Funny thing about those. They tend to start just about the time your physical injuries start getting better.”

  Ma rubbed her thumb over Kyla’s wrist, eyes misting. “Feel kind of like you’re in the ocean, trying to walk to shore, but the undertow’s too strong?”

  Kyla looked up at Ma’s eyes and whispered, “That’s exactly right.”

  Ma nodded. She looked lost in memories for a few moments, then squeezed Kyla’s hand. “It’s gonna get better, honey. It doesn’t feel like it some days, but it will.”

  “I know, Ma. I know.” Kyla sighed. “It’s just taking an awful lot longer than I expected, that’s all. It’s frustrating.”

  “Are you getting help with it back home?” Ma shook her head and made an erasing motion with her hand. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  “It’s okay. And yes, I am. When this hit, it scared the daylights out of me.”

  “Think you were losing your mind?”

  Yeah, that would be putting it mildly. “A few times, yes.”

  “Well, honey, I think you’ll find this Big Sky air is pretty powerful medicine. Horses, too, actually.” Ma pushed up from the table and came around behind Kyla to put her warm hands on her shoulders. “You take all the time you need here, honey. You’ll feel better here. All of you.”