Cats and Cowboys

by Ruth J. Hartman

  The corners of his mouth pulled up, his teeth white against his bronzed face. “Funny.”

  She grinned. “It happens.” Grabbing a stamp from her book under the counter, she slapped it on his letter and tossed the letter in the outgoing box. Then she tilted her head and watched him expectantly.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “I know I may look loaded, Jackson, but you still need to pay for the stamp.” Hoping her sarcasm would give her some control over her reaction to him, she put her hands on her hips and waited.

  If his red face was any indication, she’d succeeded in totally embarrassing the man. Now maybe he’d leave so she could get back to work and stop focusing on him.

  “Right.” He reached into his front jeans pocket and tossed some coins on the counter.

  She scooped up the money and dropped it into her cash drawer. Retrieving his change, she offered it to him.

  He waved her away. “Oh, keep the change.”

  She raised her eyebrows and bit her lip, then, while stifling a giggle, eked out the words, “Two whole cents?”

  “I….” His lips twitched. A chuckle slipped out. “That’s me. Big spender.”

  Lanna shrugged. “Takes all kinds, I guess.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Lanna’s heartbeat sped up when Jackson moved closer to the counter. Was it her imagination, or was he leaning toward her? She stared at his lips. What would it feel like to kiss him? Would they be soft or a little rough like the rest of him looked?

  There were tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes she hadn’t noticed until now. She’d never seen eyes as dark and as beautiful on a man before. Smirking, she thought someone like Jackson might not appreciate being referred to as beautiful.

  He was the first cowboy she’d met who stirred anything in her. Kind of a male model in a hat and boots. All the others seemed nice enough. Just not…

  She heard a soft thud and pivoted toward the counter below the row of mailboxes. Gordon sat looking at her. Lanna beamed.

  “What is that animal doing in here?” Jackson frowned and pointed at the cat.

  Huh? Lanna narrowed her eyes at Jackson. “That animal is my cat. His name is Gordon.” Why was he so upset? If the mayor didn’t care, why should he?

  He barked out a laugh. “You named your cat?”

  She picked up Gordon and held him close to her chest, cupping her hand over his ears, as if she could protect him from the criticism. “Of course. Don’t you name your pets?”

  He pushed his hat back from his forehead. “Lady, if you mean my horses, sure. But they’re not pets. They’re—”

  Lanna frowned. “They’re what? Illegal aliens?”

  “Of course not. They’re—”

  “Don’t you care about them?” She ruffled the orange fur on Gordon’s forehead.

  “Well, yes. But—”

  She leaned over the counter. Now their faces were just inches apart. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you like animals?”

  “I like horses.”

  “What about cats?”

  “Lady, the cats in my barn are just that. Barn cats. And no, I don’t name them. And no, they’re not pets.”

  Gordon growled at Jackson. The cat swished his tail against Lanna’s arm.

  Lady, again? Lanna felt heat rush to her face. What an insensitive man! How could she have been even remotely attracted to someone like him?

  “Well, Gordon is my pet, and I love him. He’s part of my family. He lives with me in my apartment and doesn’t ever go outside. This may shock you, but he sleeps on my bed and has the run of my apartment. I feel sorry for your cats. They deserve better.”

  Jackson edged closer to her. “Yeah, well…you’re a crazy cat lady.”

  “I take it as a compliment.” Her face was hot now, no doubt bright red. Lanna had been so close to Jackson, it wasn’t until she pulled her face away from his that she saw they had an audience. Uh-oh. The mayor. Of all people.

  “There a problem here, Miss Kirby?” The chubby man in his ten-gallon hat, huge, shiny belt buckle, and black cowboy boots shuffled to the counter. Lanna wondered if he wasn’t taking the cowboy image just a little too far. He was so bowlegged he could have fit Lanna’s bathtub through there.

  “No, Mr. Mayor. Everything’s fine.” She gave him a toothy grin, hoping to deflect his attention from the scowl on Jackson’s face.

  “Seemed like there was some kinda skirmish or somethin’.”

  She swiveled and winked at Jackson, acting as if he were her best friend. “Nope. No. Nothing wrong here. We were just uh…kidding around. Having fun.”

  Jackson rubbed his jaw, turning toward the mayor. A scowl still claimed his face, but he said nothing.

  “Fun?” asked the mayor. “Huh. Sounded like arguin’ to me. Sure don’t understand you young folks. Peculiar. Well, try to keep it down, will ya? Don’t want to scare off the postal customers.”

  Lanna was nodding before he finished. “Yes. Right. Down. Got it.” She clenched Gordon with her fingers. He wiggled against her.

  The mayor walked toward her. “And how is this fine example of cathood, today?”

  Lanna glanced at Jackson, who rolled his eyes. She could practically hear them clatter. “Fine, Mr. Mayor. Gordon is fine. Say hello to the mayor, Gordon.”

  The cat closed his eyes in the mayor’s direction, as if he were royalty and the mayor a peasant. Lanna dipped her head lower toward the cat. “Good kitty,” she whispered.

  The mayor laughed. “I love it. I just got me a kitty smile, now didn’t I?”

  “Yep,” she said, “you sure did.” Another glance at Jackson showed him biting his lip. She could imagine the venom ready to pour out of his mouth about that remark.

  The mayor chucked the cat under the chin. “I just love cats.”

  A booming purr erupted from Gordon’s throat.

  Lanna raised her eyebrows. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  Jackson harrumphed.

  Lanna held in a giggle as the mayor reached toward the cat a little too quickly to pat Gordon on the head, almost losing his hat in the process. A few more chin scratches had the cat kneading Lanna’s arm. The mayor straightened, adjusted his hat, and headed toward the door with a backward wave. The screen door creaked open and slapped shut, announcing their tiny town’s dignitary had left the building.

  Whew. That was a close one. She moved Gordon up so his head and front paws were over her shoulder. Lanna could carry him around like a big, orange, furry sack of potatoes all day, and Gordon would let her.

  Even though the mayor didn’t seem to mind it, maybe Lanna should be more careful having Gordon visible from the front counter. Though the thought was foreign to her, obviously some people, like Jackson, didn’t like cats. Lanna didn’t want to lose her job less than a month after moving here. Where would she go if she found herself unemployed? There was no way she was heading back to Indianapolis. And she knew next to nothing about farming or horses. The thought made her wrinkle her nose. She could picture a horse barn as smelling like an enormous, smelly litter box. No thanks.

  She stared at Jackson. He stood with his arms crossed over his denim-covered chest. Scowling. What was wrong with him? Even if he didn’t like cats, he didn’t have to be so snotty to her about Gordon. It should be obvious to him that she loved cats. Why couldn’t the man show some modicum of politeness?

  Lanna scowled back. “Got something to say?”

  He held up a finger. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. Clenching his teeth, he shook his head and stomped out the door.

  Lanna watched him go. What had just happened? Cuddling Gordon to her chest, she petted his fur, which calmed her. She couldn’t believe she’d just gotten in an argument with someone she barely knew. Someone she was attracted to, for whatever dumb reason. His looks seemed at total odds with his personality. Why did he get her so riled up?

  As soon as Jackson had walked into the room, every nerve in her body had buzzed. At first s
he wondered if she was coming down with the flu or something. Bubonic plague? Typhoid? Nah. She’d figured out it was hormones. Plain and simple.

  Not gonna happen, though. Men are too much trouble.

  Lanna put Gordon back on the counter. She watched as he jumped down and found the old pink towel she’d left under a corner counter for him to nap on. He kneaded the towel a few times before turning in a circle to lie down. He’d be asleep now for a good two to three hours.

  She shrugged. After getting sniped at by Mrs. Billings, arguing with Jackson about cats, and caught by the mayor, she might as well get some actual work done. Weren’t Monday’s fun?

  ****

  Jackson got in his truck and slammed the door. Well, that went well. So much for going in, mailing his letter, and chatting up Lanna. Not only didn’t he get a chance to apologize for the other day, they’d ended up in a shouting match. Why was he so attracted to someone so argumentative? He started the engine, checked the review mirror, and backed out into traffic—or at least the few trucks that constituted downtown traffic.

  He sighed. And why was Lanna so bad-tempered? Must be the red hair. Hadn’t he always heard redheads and tempers went together?

  All that bother because he’d made a comment about her cat. Who did that, anyway? Treated their cat like a person instead of an animal? And even if they did name them, it was something silly like Fluffy or Snowball. Lanna named her cat with a man’s name. Gordon. How would she like it if he named one of his horses Lanna? Lanna. It was a pretty name. He signaled left to turn onto Beech Street and waved at two farmers who lived a few miles from him.

  Jackson shook his head about Lanna’s choice of favorite animals. That cat. Right there in the post office. Cats belonged…well, as far as he was concerned, they shouldn’t even exist, but if they had to, they could live in the barn and be glad for the luxury. He’d never seen the like. Her carrying that fat, lazy thing around like a baby.

  He glanced down at the steering wheel. Why was he gripping the steering wheel so tight? Concentrating on relaxing, he loosened his grip, which eased the knots forming in his shoulders.

  The sun glinted off of the hood of his red pickup as he circled around and parked in front of the house. He jumped down from the truck, and took off his hat to wipe the sweat from his brow.

  Another hot day in Texas. Big surprise.

  He’d better check with Kenny to make sure their monthly supplies for the horses had been ordered. Jackson had never been much of a list-maker until he began running this ranch. If he didn’t keep on top of things, it wouldn’t be long before things got overlooked. And with growing, hungry horses to take care of, he couldn’t take a chance.

  Walking into the barn, he went down the line of stalls, checking on the mares and foals. They all appeared to be healthy, with their shiny coats and lively spirits. So far, the foals were developing at a good pace. He arrived at the last stall.

  What was that noise? A cry? A whimper?

  He frowned. It didn’t sound like any horse he’d ever heard. Nope, the mare and foal seemed fine. Stopping to listen, he tilted his head. There it was again. It came from the far corner.

  He walked toward the sound. There it was. And again. In stereo. How many? He stopped and stared. It was those stupid cats. The kittens were putting up a fuss because the mama cat was nowhere in sight. Perfect. Well he wasn’t going to be a nursemaid to a bunch of whiny, bratty kittens. Their mother better come back. And soon.

  He stood staring at them. What was it Lanna saw in them? He just didn’t get it. And to let her cat sleep on her bed? Not only did it sound unhealthy, he couldn’t imagine waking up and staring into a cat’s green eyes.

  Now, Lanna’s eyes were a different story. Jackson could definitely imagine waking up…whoa! Where did that come from? He needed to keep his mind where it should be.

  Backing away from the felines, he headed out to the corral but couldn’t escape thoughts of Lanna.

  She’d gone after him like a polecat protecting its young—the cat. Gordon. Jackson rolled his eyes. Then he remembered her talking about Gordon sleeping on her bed. The thought took him back to his daydream of waking up there himself.

  Slow down Jackson. You don’t wanna go there. A crazy cat-lady is not for you. Better get back to work before you end up in trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Lanna lugged Gordon over her shoulder and up the stairs. The tips of his claws dug into her skin through the red material of her thin tee shirt. Not enough to hurt, just enough to let Lanna know he wasn’t comfortable. Well, neither was she. Her muscles ached from bending, lifting, twisting and shoving, not to mention trying to keep her calm all day with complaining customers. Thankfully the workday was over.

  The toe of her tennis shoe caught the lip of the top step. Lanna teetered forward and back.

  “Yikes!” Dropping one hand from Gordon, she reached toward the doorknob. Where was it? She only felt air. It wasn’t easy to see around a face full of orange fur. Gordon kicked at her chest with his back claws.

  “Ouch!” Holding him tighter with one hand, she finally felt the hard metal beneath her other fingers. Exhaling long and loud, Lanna stood still, trying to catch her breath. What would have happened if she had lost her balance completely? She and Gordon would have been scrambled toast. One big heap of bones, hair, and orange fur. Not as if it would have been the first time Lanna took a dive, though. At least this time, the only witness would have been Gordon.

  Opening her door, she set him on the floor. The door shut with a loud pop, startling the cat. He bolted across the small living room in a blur of orange. Lanna rushed to calm him. Grabbing him under his furry armpits, she snuggled him close, rubbing the top of his head. His loud rumble boomed from his chest. The corners of her mouth turned up as she hugged him tighter.

  Why wouldn’t Jackson like cats? She didn’t get it. They were wonderful and calming and showed unconditional love. The man was lucky enough to have several in his barn. What she wouldn’t give to have a place big enough to house a bunch of them. He didn’t know what he was missing. Sure, the horses were probably fun and sweet in their own way, but could you hold one on your lap? Carry one around? Nope.

  ****

  Jackson wiped the sweat from his face and neck with a red bandana. Stuffing it back in his jeans pocket, he placed his boot in the horse’s stirrup and hiked his other leg up and over. He patted the light gray horse’s neck.

  “Come on Greystoke. Work to do.” At least his horses had practical names.

  A sudden image of Lanna petting her cat’s orange fur crossed his mind. Gordon. Such a dumb name for a cat. Why couldn’t she call it something practical like…cat? What more did a good-for-nothing feline deserve than that?

  If he wanted to have more conversations with Lanna that didn’t involve raised voices, he’d need to bite his tongue around her about cats even though it went totally against his grain to do it.

  Jackson rode Greystoke away from the barn, trotting hard on baked ground, which hadn’t seen rain in way too long. He eyed the foals in the pen, laughing at their play. Just like little kids, they wanted to have fun. Too bad all of life wasn’t like that. Man, he could use some playtime himself.

  Lanna. Cat-lover or not, there was something about her he couldn’t shake. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe the post office had just become his favorite place to visit.

  A couple of hours later, Jackson opened his truck door and hopped out. He couldn’t believe he was back at the post office. Again. He never came into town this often, not with all the work he had at the ranch. And any day now, his mares would be foaling.

  That would put an end to his post office trips. He frowned. Even though he’d just met Lanna, the thought of not seeing her left him feeling cold. Something about her kept pulling him back.

  Boots thumping on the sidewalk, he opened the post office door with a squeak. Heading inside, he noticed a slight breeze stirring from the ancient fan. The mayor must have the same minds
et about spending money on air conditioning as Jackson’s uncle had.

  He walked to the counter and waited. Where was she? Knocking the counter with his knuckles, he decided to grab his own mail from his post office box. Maybe by the time he got it, she’d show up. Reaching into his front pocket, he pulled out his key ring. After flipping through a half dozen, he produced the right one.

  Scratch. Thump.

  Jackson glanced up. “What the—”

  Gordon sat on the counter, glaring at him. The cat swished his tail back and forth. Jackson didn’t like it one bit. What was the cat up to? Better grab his mail and go. Didn’t look like Lanna was around anyway, and the less time he spent near that cat, the better. Stretching toward the post office boxes, he saw movement from the corner of his eye.

  Gordon was edging closer. Sidling. Sneaky-like. When Jackson poked the key in the lock, the orange cat scooted and plopped his fat body right in front of Jackson’s box. Of all the nerve.

  “Now see here...” Jackson stopped himself from saying more. He was talking to a cat? For Pete’s sake! He’d just edge the cat away from his box, get his mail, and be done with it.

  Slowly angling his hand in the small space between the cat and the box, Jackson had the key right next to the opening. So close.

  Whap. Gordon snaked a paw out, smacking Jackson’s wrist.

  “Hey, you good for nothing—” He took a deep breath. It’s only a cat. Only a cat. Trying again produced the cat’s growl.

  His third attempt drew a hateful-sounding hiss. “Well this is just ridiculous.”

  “What are you doing to my cat?”

  Jackson took a step back, feeling his face burn. Caught red-handed trying to outsmart a cat. He glanced up. All the frustration melted away when he spotted Lanna. Her emerald green shirt brought out the color of her eyes. How could one woman be so beautiful?

  She crossed her arms. “I asked what are you doing to Gordon?”

  “I uh...” He swallowed.