Cats and Cowboys

by Ruth J. Hartman

  They walked back to the house, up the steps, through the living room, and into the kitchen. Lanna grabbed her purse. Jackson found a pen and headed back out to the porch.

  Lanna grimaced. Such a nice, polite cowboy who needed a poke in the eye. She’d be more than happy to oblige. As soon as she reached the porch, Jackson was already halfway to the barn.

  Lanna waved to his back. “Nice to see you, too. “ She sighed and pivoted toward her Jeep. Poking her head in the open window, she eyed the passenger seat. Whatever cow drool was there was at least dry, so it wouldn’t be as gross sitting down on it this time. Opening the door and sliding onto the hot seat, she tossed her purse on the passenger seat.

  Pushing her key into the ignition she turned it and waited. Silence. What now? She tried again. Nothing. Oh come on. Not now. Not here. One more try. The engine coughed and sputtered, but caught and started. Thank you. But it died soon after.

  Rats. Lanna slumped against the steering wheel and pulled her arms over her head. What now? It was too far to walk home, although Jackson might find the sight of her hoofing it amusing. She supposed she could ride the cow, but they hadn’t gotten off to a good start in their relationship. And Lanna was not going to ask Jackson for a ride back to town. Was. Not.

  “Problem with your Jeep?”

  Lanna raised her head and saw the same man as before, walking toward her. She shrugged. “’Fraid so. Stupid thing does this to me at the most inopportune moments.”

  “Let me have a look. Name’s Kenny.”

  “I’m Lanna. Thanks. That would be great.” Hopping back out of the Jeep, she headed to the front, where Kenny already had the hood open. “I appreciate this.”

  From a bent position over the engine, he said, “No problem. Any friend of Jackson’s...”

  Lanna fought to keep a pleasant expression on her face. Friend? Uh, no. Not even close. The nice man helping her out, didn’t need to know. What he didn’t know, well…she was in enough trouble with Jackson. No need to inflame his irritation any further. She just needed to get out of here.

  “Can you tell what the problem is?”

  He straightened back up. “Not yet. Need to put it on the lift. Would you mind putting the Jeep in neutral?”

  “Oh, uh, sure.” She hurried around the open door to reach in, grabbing the gearshift to pop it into neutral. This wasn’t going well. What if it wasn’t a quick fix? What if it was expensive? She didn’t have much extra cash, since she’d spent more than she’d planned just moving here.

  Kenny waved another man in a cowboy hat over. The two of them pushed the Jeep past the barn to a smaller gray, wooden structure. A garage, maybe? She trailed along behind the men.

  “Listen,” said Lanna, “I appreciate this so much, but don’t go to a lot of trouble. The Jeep’s old and—”

  “No trouble at all.”

  She held up an index finger. “Um, but…you see if it’s expensive, I don’t have a lot of…”

  Having reached the outside of the building, the men stopped pushing the Jeep. Kenny angled toward her. “Ah, don’t worry about it. We have a well-stocked garage. Can handle most anything. Besides, I’m sure Jackson wouldn’t want to charge a friend.”

  There it was again. Friend. If this amounted to a large bill, Jackson would have a cow.

  Cow. She bit her lip thinking about the cow’s and Jackson’s big brown eyes. No Lanna. Do not laugh. Not now. Instead of trying to speak and risk getting the giggles, she nodded.

  Chapter Five

  After Kenny had Lanna’s Jeep on the lift, he told her it might be a while until he was done. Lanna thanked him and used her cell phone to call the post office to let them know she wouldn’t be back to work until the next morning. Even if Kenny got it fixed in the next hour or two, by the time she drove back, it would be past five o’clock.

  Bother. Now what should she do? Still hoping the vehicle wouldn’t be expensive to fix, Lanna avoided talking to Jackson. Not that it was hard because he didn’t seem to want to talk to her either.

  Lanna headed back into the barn where she felt at home. Not because of the smelly barn but because of the cats. She understood cats, and they understood her. She smirked. Almost always. Gordon sure had moments when the term high maintenance was the only adjective she could come up with. Silly cat.

  The momma cat was lying on her side, eyes half-closed, feeding her babies. Kittens, a couple even on top of each other, vied for milk. Their little paws kneaded her tummy as tiny motors purred their delight. Lanna sighed. Why couldn’t her life be as simple? Why couldn’t she find contentment with a man? Drake sure spoiled it for her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever trust a man so completely again.

  Momma cat stood up, the not so subtle signal that she was done providing a meal. The black cat stretched her front legs, then her back ones, flipping her tail as she edged to Lanna’s side.

  “Well, hey there. What’s your name anyway? I don’t know what to call you and your kids. Everyone needs a name. Hmmm, how about Onyx since your fur is such a beautiful shade of shiny black?”

  Onyx appeared to like the name, rubbing against Lanna’s leg. Giving in to what she knew the cat wanted, she searched the floor for a relatively clean spot, and then sat down. Onyx climbed onto her lap, turning in a circle. With a heavy sigh, the cat purred and closed her eyes.

  It only took a few seconds for the kittens to find their mom. Before Lanna knew it, all seven kittens climbed on her lap, too. Not all of them were successful since there wasn’t room for everyone. Lanna laughed and picked up two of them who kept falling off.

  If Gordon weren’t such a snooty-puss, Lanna wouldn’t mind having another cat or two. But since he didn’t play well with others, she was a one-cat woman. Shrugging, she realized it was okay, though. Gordon got all of the love she had to give. She’d shower it on whoever she was blessed to have.

  Lanna frowned. Did that apply to a man too? Drake was supposed to be her one true love. At least it’s what she’d believed. He’d betrayed her and in a painful way. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for her to have a special man in her life. And maybe that’s why she loved cats so much, so she’d have someone to love and care for.

  She heard the sigh before she noticed the boots. Jackson stood just to the side of her, waiting. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of speaking first. He’d thought it was okay to lecture her, so he could just keep on standing there. Lanna was stubborn too. Let him try to outwait her. Focusing on the cats, she stroked Onyx’s silky fur.

  Jackson cleared his throat, a sure sign his patience was wearing thin. Any second now he’d say something. He wouldn’t be able help it. Lanna took a slow, deep breath. Wait for it…Wait for it…

  “I am standing right here, you know. The least you could do would be to look up.”

  Lanna bit her bottom lip to hold in the giggle threatening to pop out. From the corner of her eye, she saw him tap the toe of his cowboy boot. Once, twice. Ever so slowly, she raised her chin, gaze wandering up his legs, hips, and chest, finally resting on his handsome, scowling face. “Oh. Hi. Were you talking to me?”

  “Lanna Kirby, you know good and well I’m talking to you. I’m sure not talking to those mangy cats.”

  She glanced back down. “They’re not mangy. Sure, they could use a bath, but it’s not their fault they have to sleep out here in the barn with the dirt and the stench. And the manure.”

  He tapped his dusty boot some more. “And just where should they be?”

  Lanna gazed up at him. “Well, since you asked, I—”

  “Never mind. I can guess what you’ll say. I bet you’d be pleased as punch if they all lived in my house.”

  She blinked. “Hey, what a great—”

  He held up a hand. “Not gonna happen. Now, it looks like you’re staying for supper. Kenny is still working on your Jeep. When’s the last time you had it serviced, anyway?”

  Lanna shrugged. She’d never concerned herself with stuff like that. Since her former bo
yfriend was a racecar driver, she’d always trusted him to take care of automobile-y stuff. And since she’d moved to Texas, she’d been too busy to even think about it. She’d had to find a job and a place for her and Gordon to live. Yep, not enough hours in the day. Looked like it came back to bite her in the butt though, hard. Rats.

  She nudged the kittens off, one by one. Two were attached by their tiny claws to her jeans, so she disengaged their miniature talons. Onyx flattened her ears when Lanna picked her up. Lanna would much rather stay here and hold the cats, but it seemed Jackson wasn’t going to go away. Placing Onyx on the floor, she stood and brushed off her backside of who-knew-what. Then she remembered the cow snuffle from her car seat and grimaced. Yuck.

  Jackson stood, eyebrows raised, staring, but not saying a word. What an obnoxious man. Couldn’t he see she couldn’t just throw the cats on the floor? If he had his way, she’d chuck them in a horse stall to be maimed by giant hooves.

  Lanna stared back at him. “What?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what?’? I’m not doing anything.”

  “Exactly. You say you have all this work to do, but then you just stand there, staring at me like a meerkat.”

  He leaned down closer to her, just a few inches from her face. She noticed the beard stubble along his jaw. “Did you just compare me to a cat?”

  “No. A meerkat.”

  “Why?”

  Lanna peered right into his brown eyes. “They stare a lot.”

  He blew out a breath and straightened. “Well this is getting us nowhere.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Jackson shook his head and sighed. “Look, why don’t you come with me, and we’ll see what’s going on with your Jeep?”

  “Fine.” She jutted out her chin.

  She followed him through the barn and out into the heat. Had to admit, watching him from behind wasn’t all bad. The man had a nice butt. No argument there. Being so focused on said butt, her nose rammed into his back when he stopped suddenly.

  He whirled around. “What are you doing?”

  Lanna rubbed her nose. “Ouch.”

  “Well, why did you run into me?”

  “Why did you stop?”

  Jackson raised his eyebrows and continued on to the garage. Lanna followed, trying her hardest not to stare where she’d been staring before.

  Kenny glanced up from the innards of Lanna’s Jeep. “Bad news, I’m afraid. Gonna have to send out for parts. Won’t have them until tomorrow.” Kenny went back to work on the vehicle.

  “What?” Lanna slapped her hands to her cheeks. “This can’t be happening.” She gasped. “If I can’t get home, who will feed Gordon?”

  Jackson raised his eyebrows. “That’s your biggest concern? That your overweight, spoiled cat might miss a meal?”

  “Hey, he’s not spoiled, or…well, yeah I guess he is kinda chubby, but still…” She chewed on a fingernail, pulling her hand from her mouth when she remembered the cow goo. And horse doo.

  Jackson sighed and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re welcome to stay here tonight. We have plenty of room.”

  She felt a spark from his hand to her body. Visions of where else he could warm her filled her mind. “But—”

  He kneaded her shoulder. It felt even better than when Gordon did it. Jackson seemed to have gotten over being miffed about her laughing at him the other day and about almost decapitating his cow. “I can loan you some pajamas and a toothbrush.”

  Was he flirting with her? “But—”

  His fingers somehow found their way to the back of her neck, under her hair. It felt heavenly.

  “And you can take a shower if you’d like.”

  Definitely flirting now. “See—”

  His brown eyes peered into hers. “What? Are you still worried about your cat?”

  She sighed. “His name is Gordon.”

  “I know.” He hadn’t removed his hand from the back of her neck.

  “Then why don’t you use it?” Please don’t stop what you’re doing….

  Jackson shrugged. Was he blushing? “It feels...”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Silly.”

  She tilted her head to one side, feeling her hair bounce around her cheek. “To call a cat by his name?”

  He shrugged again. Lanna grabbed his hand. He pulled back. “Where are we going?”

  “To the barn.”

  “But—”

  “Come on, cowboy. It won’t hurt. I promise.”

  ****

  Jackson wasn’t sure he believed her, but he did like holding her hand. Somehow he’d been brave enough to touch her neck underneath her gorgeous, soft hair, something he’d wanted to do since he met her. And she let him, but, he wouldn’t have been shocked if she’d smacked his hand away.

  He didn’t have to ask what she wanted him to see in the barn, although he could think of several things he’d like to do. But with her, it was all about the cats. He shivered. Why was he letting her do this? Heat started in his middle and radiated through the rest of his body. Oh yeah, that was why.

  Lanna yanked his hand, tugging harder. Jackson stopped fighting her and followed, but he didn’t let go of her hand. Nope, it felt too good. A current of electricity arced from her to him, making his body heat up and his heart race.

  She stopped where he’d found her earlier, when she’d been sitting on the floor with a passel of cats crawling on her lap. Lucky cats.

  “Okay,” she said, letting go of his hand. Jackson glanced down. Now his hand was empty. He wasn’t at all sure he liked the sensation. Maybe if he stepped closer he could...

  “Jackson, hello?” She waved her fingers in front of his face.

  He realized he’d been staring at her mouth and wanted to kiss those lips real bad. “What?”

  “You need to acquaint yourself with these little furry miracles from God. Do you know how fortunate you are to have so many?”

  All he could think about was running his hands through her curly red hair again. Pulling her close. Pressing his lips to hers, as he ran his hands up and down her back. “I uh...”

  Lanna frowned and tugged his hand again, this time pulling him down to the floor. Ah, now this he could handle. Maybe now they could...

  “Here.” She thrust an orange kitten into his arms. He darted his gaze down, startled he seemed to somehow be holding a cat, of all things. And it looked like a miniature Gordon. There. He’d said the name, at least in his thoughts.

  The varmint kneaded his arm with tiny paws, flexing needle-like claws in and out. Just as Jackson was about to give the cat a toss, it yawned, stretched, and settled down for a nap. Oh no, this couldn’t be good.

  “Awww. Look at that.” Lanna scooted closer to him. Their thighs touched, sending heat through the rest of him. Well, okay, maybe he could hold the cat for a minute, as long as Lanna sat there too.

  Jackson felt a tiny rumble from the kitten’s tummy. A smile tugged at his mouth.

  Lanna bumped his shoulder with hers. “What?”

  “He has a motor.”

  She giggled. “He’s purring. He likes you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Me? He does?”

  “Yep.”

  Jackson grinned. “Well, who woulda guessed?”

  Lanna leaned closer. “Guessed what?”

  “Maybe I’ll become a cat person, after all.” Just for you. Only for you.

  The kiss Lanna planted on his lips told him just how happy it made her.

  About the Author

  Ruth J. Hartman spends her days cleaning teeth, and her nights spinning sweet romantic tales that make you giggle, laugh, and all-out guffaw. She, her husband, and their two cats, love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats, Maxwell and Roxy, sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's. You know how selfish those little furry
creatures can be.

  Ruth, a left-handed, tooth-scraping, Jeep driving, farmhouse-dwelling romance writer uses her goofy sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women and the men who adore them. Ruth's husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her in spite of her penchant for insisting all of her books have at least one cat in them. Or twelve. But hey, who's counting?

  Also by Ruth J. Hartman

  Chapter One

  Closer. Just a little closer. Can't you smell the tuna in there? Roxy hunkered down behind the old wooden park bench. The ground smelled of rich, dark dirt after last night's rain. Her legs cramped from sitting in a strange position. What was taking so long? Usually hungry cats couldn't resist tuna. This was her fourth venture into this park for the feral cat colony. She had to trap them one by one because, as curious as cats were, they wouldn't normally follow another one into a live-trap cage. Even for tuna. Once every millennium she'd get lucky with a double. Most days, though, it was one per customer.

  Snap! The trap door slammed shut.

  "Yes!" Roxy whispered as she pumped her fist. She stood up from her hideout, stretching stiff leg, arm, and back muscles. Something popped in her knee. Ah. Much better. Even though the trapped cat couldn't escape, she tiptoed. Her tennis shoes slipped on damp leaves. Uh-oh! She windmilled her arms, sliding forward then back. She regained her balance. Whew. Thank goodness she hadn't fallen. She waited, willing her breathing to slow.

  The cat stared at her, unblinking. Shoot. She'd tried so hard to be quiet. Not exactly her strong suit when she tended to trip over anything and nothing. And these wild cats had enough to worry about without her scaring them to death. She bent over the cage for a closer look.

  "Well, hello there. Aren't you a beauty?" The orange tiger, which appeared to be about eight months old, backed up against the wire of the cage, its brown eyes as large as quarters.