Mountain Country Cowboy

by Glynna Kaye

  “Oh, you.” She laughed and cuffed him playfully on the arm. Grandma was right. Cash had entered into a relationship with God, had turned his life around and was building a new track record. She no longer had to be afraid.

  For a long moment their smiling gazes held.

  “We made a good team meeting that Tallington deadline, didn’t we, Cash?”

  “We did. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we? From your being a childhood pest who plagued me to partnering on something that will make a difference to Hunter’s Hideaway for a long time to come.”

  She pretended offense. “Pest?”

  “You know you were.”

  “Mom and Dad think I had a crush on you.” Now why did she bring that up?

  He chuckled. “You had an interesting way of showing it.”

  “A girl can’t wear her heart on her sleeve, you know.” She didn’t attempt to hide a flirtatious smile. “It puts her at a disadvantage.”

  He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Even at such a young age, girls think about stuff like that?”

  “Subconsciously, I suppose. Survival instinct.”

  “Interesting.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You females are complicated creatures, aren’t you?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Keeps men on their toes.”

  “You certainly keep me on mine.”

  “Do I?”

  “Always.”

  Again their gazes held, and when his dipped briefly to her mouth, her heartbeat sped up as the remembrance of that earlier near-miss kiss flashed through her.

  She looked back at the brightly lit facility. A round of applause echoed in the night. “Well, I guess we’d better get inside for the remaining events. We don’t want to miss the fireworks of the bull-riding finale.”

  He took a step closer, his gaze intent in the dim light. “Unless I’m mistaken, we could spark a few fireworks of our own right here and now.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Agreed?”

  Her eyes locked with his, she slowly nodded.

  His hand now resting on her waist, he leaned in, his eyes searching hers. She could feel his heart beating under the hand she pressed to his rock-solid chest to keep from swaying toward him.

  And yet he waited, his mouth hovering inches from hers.

  “What’s the hold up, cowboy?” The words came out in a breathless squeak and her face heated. Thankfully in the dim light he wouldn’t see that blush.

  The corners of his mouth curved upward. “You have no idea, do you, Rio, how beautiful you are? How special you are. What a difference you’ve made in my life and the life of my son in such a short time.”

  How should she respond to that? Thank you? Happy to oblige. Or—she drew a shaky breath—Hurry it up, mister, before I pass out waiting for you to make your move. Why was he deliberately torturing her like this?

  And then. Finally. He closed his eyes and leaned in again.

  A lightning-powerful jolt bolted through her when his lips made tentative contact with hers. And when she didn’t pull back, they pressed in warmly with increased confidence. She responded, fully engaged in an amazing moment she’d only dreamed of. Could this guy ever kiss! The faint scent of his aftershave and the roughness of his five-o’clock shadow under her fingertips sent her senses reeling.

  She hadn’t let a man kiss her since...

  No. She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, refusing to allow the past to intrude on the present. Allowing herself to sink into his arms, she responded to his kisses as if God had intended this all along.

  Had He?

  As the tender moments stretched, leaving her almost light-headed, that possibility sent hope curling through her heart. Was this the love she’d longed for since she was a teenager?

  When Cash drew back—all too soon—she reluctantly allowed him to. But her heart cried out Encore! Encore! She didn’t want the romantic moment to end.

  His eyes twinkling, a smile quirked. “You sure know how to let a man know his attentions are welcome.”

  Her face warmed. Had she gotten carried away? Made a fool of herself? “Too hot for you to handle, eh, cowboy?”

  There, that set the right tone. Took control again.

  He laughed as he stepped back, glancing around as though suddenly aware of their public surroundings.

  She poked him in the chest. “Kinda late to be checking for an audience, don’t you think?”

  He grinned. “So what do you say to heading back inside and grabbing an ice-cream cone before the final events?”

  He’d kissed her almost senseless and his response was to now offer an ice-cream cone like she was still only seven years old? He was satisfied that she was good with that?

  “We could, I suppose.”

  “Was there something else you wanted to do? Take a look at the tack and trailer displays again? See what time that country band will be tuning up?”

  Men. She shrugged and stepped around him, heading purposefully toward the equine center.

  “Whoa, Rio.” He caught up with her and snagged her arm, drawing her to a halt. “What’s going on?”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, some guy took it upon himself to kiss me like nobody’s business. Now he’s acting as though he just clicked his remote to another channel midgame.”

  In the brighter light closer to the building, she didn’t miss the speculative gleam in his eye.

  “That’s what you think, is it?”

  “Sure seems like it. I may just track down Grady and Sunshine and sit out the rest of the evening with them.”

  Laughing, he grabbed her hand. “Oh, no, you don’t, pretty lady.”

  Sweeping his arm possessively around her, he tipped her slightly back. Then his mouth came down on hers again. No lingering this time. Straight to the purpose on which he’d set his mind.

  Once more, her insides melted as his lips caressed hers. Cash. Coherent thought faded at the amazing way it felt to be held in his embrace. But before she could loop her arms around his neck to pull him closer, he jerked violently away.

  Or rather he was pulled roughly from her by a shadowy figure behind him.

  “Just like your old man, eh, Herrera? Can’t keep your hands off what doesn’t belong to you.”

  Even standing several feet away from him, Rio could smell the alcohol on Eliot’s breath. But before either could react to his intrusion, the bigger man doubled up his fist and plowed it into Cash’s jaw, sending him staggering.

  Her scream was overridden by the roar of the crowd from the arena stands. “Eliot! No!”

  But in a flash, eyes heated with rage, Cash regained his balance and rushed forward, his fists firing back with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. One slammed into Eliot’s stomach and, as the man doubled over, the other followed up at lightning speed with an upswing blow to his jaw.

  With a groan, Eliot sank to his knees.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Without thinking, Cash had instinctively reacted. Now, Rio’s muffled scream echoing in his ears, his attention was diverted from the man at his feet to the woman whose eyes were wide with horror.

  His hands still clenched, she was staring at him—not at Eliot—with a look that made his blood run cold.

  “Don’t, Cash. Please, don’t.”

  Then she turned and ran.

  Dazed—one moment holding Rio tenderly in his arms and the next engaged in a fight—he turned his attention to Eliot, who was attempting to rise. But Cash didn’t have time to fool with this guy. “Don’t mess with me again, Eliot. Or Rio. It ends here, you got that?”

  Not waiting for a response, he shot off in the direction Rio had taken.

  Where had she gone?

  Up ahead she was entering the equine
complex, weaving her way through a milling crowd in front of the refreshment stands. Oblivious to the irritation of those around him, he pushed his way through, too. When he finally caught up with her, he grabbed her arm and drew her to a halt.

  She pulled away, staring at him as if at a stranger. “Don’t touch me.”

  He raised his hands warily as tears pooled in her ashen face.

  “It’s okay, Rio. Eliot’s not going to follow us in here.”

  “Did you hit him again?”

  “I didn’t have to. He went down hard the first time, and I imagine he isn’t too happy about it. But even drunk he won’t bother us in this crowd.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Okay.” He nodded in the direction of the parking lot. “Truck’s right outside.”

  Her expression clouded. “No. I’ll find Grady and Sunshine and catch a ride with them.”

  “You don’t want me to take you home?” Someone passing behind him jostled his shoulder. The sound of the speakers blaring was followed with a cheer from the crowd in the stands. “I’m sorry that Eliot—”

  “It’s not Eliot,” she said through trembling lips. “It’s...you and me, Cash. We’re not a good idea.”

  No way had he imagined how she’d slipped willingly into his arms as if she belonged there. How she’d matched him one sweet kiss after another. “What am I missing here?”

  She glanced almost fearfully around her.

  “Eliot won’t come into a crowd like this to finish his business. Too many who could bring him down.” He tilted his head. “But then you said this wasn’t about Eliot. That it’s about us?”

  “There is no us, Cash.”

  She ducked her head, her shoulders shaking. Oh, great, now she was crying. Risking her pulling away from him again, he put his hand on her lower back and steered her to a less congested edge of the crowd. She was trembling but, utterly helpless and knowing better than to try to pull her into his arms, he stood there awkwardly.

  “You know I care for you, don’t you, Rio? And I’m sorry Eliot interrupted before I could tell you that.” Why wouldn’t she look at him? “I didn’t intend to let him drag me into a fight. I admit that at one time I did like a good fight. Not anymore. When God stepped into my life three years ago, all that changed. I changed.”

  She looked up at him then, her expression accusing. “I didn’t see much evidence of that change tonight.”

  Her words gut-punched him harder than anything his fists had delivered to Eliot. “It won’t happen again. I had the best of intentions to steer clear of him, but he’s been pushing my buttons for weeks. I was caught off guard and lost my temper, reacted instinctively, and—”

  “That’s it, Cash, don’t you see? It was instinctive. It’s bred into you. You couldn’t help yourself.”

  “I will from here on out. I’m not my father, Rio. I’ve told you that.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take that risk. Not again.”

  “Again?”

  She blinked back tears as she looked him squarely in the eye. “Another man I cared for...in college...had a temper, too. Did you think I broke my nose falling off a horse?”

  He stared down at her, his hands involuntarily clenching. “A man hit you?”

  She nodded. “I can’t risk getting sucked into that kind of relationship again. I was young, naive and so thrilled to have my first real boyfriend that I didn’t recognize the signs of an abuser until it was too late.”

  A muscle in his jaw throbbed where Eliot had struck him. “I’m no abuser, Rio. No matter what a jury believed, I’ve never struck a woman.”

  “He hadn’t, either,” she said, “or so he claimed. He’d sometimes push me too roughly when I didn’t move fast enough to suit him, once knocking me to the ground. An accident, he said. Or he’d grip my arm so tightly it bruised. In both cases he quickly apologized. But he did have a temper and trouble always seemed to find him.”

  Like the way Eliot had dogged him?

  “Unfortunately,” she continued, “the one time I tried to step in, to break up one of those fights, he was so angry at my interference, so infuriated that he—”

  She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut.

  His jaw hardened as the scene played out in his mind. Blood boiling, he saw himself stepping in, pulling the guy off the injured Rio and sending him crashing into a wall to beg for mercy he wouldn’t receive.

  His stomach knotted at the direction his thoughts had so quickly taken. Instinct. Bred into him. Wasn’t that what she’d said? But wasn’t that the nature of most men? To protect the woman they—loved?

  He swallowed hard, then stepped back from Rio. She was right. Tonight there was little evidence that he’d changed since giving himself to God. And his behavior—his instinct that he hadn’t taken control of—had brought Rio’s fears to life again. Brought her to tears. No doubt she feared him now.

  “Please let me drive you home.”

  “No. I’ll ride with Grady and Sunshine.”

  Disappointed, he nodded, his throat parched, voice rough. “Can you forgive me? Maybe give me—”

  “Another chance?” She shook her head, the hurt in her eyes matching that in his heart. “Yes, I can forgive you. There’s no question of that. But it doesn’t change our relationship.”

  “But—” But what? She’d witnessed him at his worst. The old version of himself he’d believed had been long buried, rising from the dead right before her eyes.

  “Seth always said he was sorry, too. Said he wanted a second chance—and that last ‘second’ chance landed me in an emergency room. Despite his promises to seek help with anger management, I eventually heard he’d punched a new girlfriend when she tried to break up with him.”

  “Rio, I’d never—”

  “There they are.” With a pasted-on smile, she waved into the crowd, then without a backward glance hurried to an approaching Sunshine and Grady, their hands around hot dogs and sodas.

  “Could I catch a ride home with you after the bull riding?” he heard her say. “Cash has to leave early.”

  And then she was gone, disappearing into the crowd with her brother and sister-in-law.

  Shame settled heavily as he stared blindly after her. This was his fault, and he had no one else to blame. Not even Eliot.

  He’d blown it. Had deceived himself.

  He wasn’t fit to love a woman like Rio...or to be a father to Joey.

  * * *

  She’d done it again.

  She’d allowed herself to fall for a hot-tempered man with a violent streak. Even days later, she remembered too vividly the fury that transformed Cash’s usually easygoing demeanor, his dark eyes smoldering with rage. The same eyes that only moments before had looked down at her with gentle playfulness—with love? How could she reconcile the two extremes of this man?

  “I wish Dad could have come today.” Joey looked at her glumly from where he sat astride Misty as he walked the mare around the perimeter of the corral. Helmeted head up, back erect, legs positioned correctly, his nonrein hand relaxed on his thigh, not clutching the saddle horn. He’d come so far in such a short time once they’d gotten to the heart of his aversion to horses.

  “Maybe he can come next time. I know he’s proud of you. We both are.”

  The boy grinned at her praise as he nudged his pony into a trot, and her heart swelled with an almost maternal joy. Despite a determination not to get attached to Joey, she’d too often found herself daydreaming of what it would be like to be his mom. To tuck him in at night and tickle him awake. To shower him with hugs. Of course, in order for that to happen, Cash would have to be her husband. Although she cared for the boy’s father, that could never be.

  As it was, Cash had been avoiding her. And she, him.

 
This was the third riding lesson that week that he’d missed. Another opportunity to bond with his son slipping through his fingers. He said he was busy. That she was better with Joey on this lesson stuff than he was anyway.

  Had she overreacted that night in pushing him away?

  No, her instincts were on target. As much as it hurt to break off the beginnings of a relationship with him, it was the right thing to do. Before it had gone too far. Before either had shared words of love or made commitments.

  Strangely enough, she didn’t doubt that Cash cared for her. Not only had he said he did, but she’d seen it in his eyes in those unguarded moments when he’d kissed her. Which made it all the harder to push him away. But she’d gone down that road before. Men with anger issues didn’t make good life partners, and she refused to be a textbook victim ever again.

  She’d be advising other young women in the future and didn’t dare risk becoming a two-time casualty of sticking her head in the sand. She couldn’t be a blind-leading-the-blind counselor.

  “There he is!” Joey reined in on the other side of the corral as Cash approached the fence.

  Not the usual confident stride she’d become accustomed to. Something had changed. In recent days his body language had become more withdrawn, demeanor less animated, his interactions with others—even his son—more reserved.

  Had she done that to him?

  “Hey, champ, lookin’ good.”

  “I’ve been trotting. Did you see me?”

  “I did. You said you loped last time, too.”

  “I can show you.”

  Cash looked to her, his eyes questioning as if asking permission to say yes to his son.

  She nodded. “Show him, Joey.”

  Brows lowering in concentration, the boy settled himself into the saddle, firmed his footing in the stirrups and adjusted the reins. Then with a kick of his heels he signaled to the pony, and Misty broke into a gentle lope. Or at least as gentle as a pony could manage, with Joey occasionally maintaining his balance with a brief touch to the saddle horn.

  “See, Dad?”

  “I see. You’re becoming quite the horseman.”