Cowboy Crazy

by Joanne Kennedy

  And he’d helped a few horses. Flash, especially. If he did nothing else in his life, he’d always be proud he’d given that horse a chance to escape the pain he’d suffered so long.

  And that brought him to Sarah. Had he helped her? Probably not. He’d done his best, but she was still deluding herself, believing in her stepfather and blaming Lane for all her family’s troubles. She didn’t realize families had troubles no matter what the circumstances.

  Look at his own family. His father, who had died stern and disapproving even though a stroke had robbed him of the ability to express his disappointment in his sons. His brother, driving the company onward as it ate up land and sucked out communities’ souls along with the precious oil beneath them.

  But not this time. He’d prevented that from happening to Two Shot. He was pretty sure he’d convinced his brother that taking responsibility for the community would have earned their father’s approval. And if that didn’t work, he’d had paperwork done up on the conservation easement and Trevor didn’t know it yet, but he had power of attorney if anything happened to Lane.

  Anything like this.

  He closed his eyes and listened to the quacking of the ducks for a while. They sounded pretty riled up. And they were pretty big ducks. One in particular loomed over him. He felt it brush against his hand, and then something stroked his face. A feather? A wingtip? Man, he was in trouble.

  The duck moved away and the light hit his eyes like a laser, sending a sharp, shooting pain straight to the back of his head. He closed his eyes and tensed. It was like he’d been shot. Damn, he shouldn’t have done that to a poor innocent duck. It hadn’t even been good eating. The thing was tough as an old saddle and tasted like a bad chicken gone worse.

  The wingtip brushed his face again and he opened his eyes. Things were starting to come into focus now. The illumination he’d taken for the light at the end of the tunnel to heaven was actually just a big lighted square in one of those cheap drop ceilings. The shadows weren’t ducks; they were people. Thank God. He wasn’t dead. He might have come close—but he was alive and clearly in the hospital.

  He hadn’t died; he’d just been delusional. And that meant he had a second chance at life.

  What was he going to do with it?

  Well, first of all, he’d be nicer to ducks. Maybe he could dig a pond at the ranch, make a little duck country club for them. He pictured a duck lounging by a swimming pool on a duck-sized chaise lounge with an umbrella drink in his hand and almost laughed.

  “Did he just laugh?” someone asked. It was a woman’s voice, probably a nurse. It reminded him of Sarah, but no way would Sarah be here. Sarah hated him now.

  The sharp pain came again, but this time it hit his heart.

  “I think he did laugh,” said a low, masculine voice. “But did you see him flinch?”

  He knew that voice. It was Trevor. If Trevor had set foot in a hospital, Lane had to be in pretty bad shape.

  He squinted, struggling to make out the shapes that had blurred into shadows again. He wanted to see that nurse. She really sounded a lot like Sarah. Maybe it was. Maybe…

  No, it couldn’t be. If he was lucky, Sarah was still at the ranch finding the woman she was meant to be. He was hoping to have one more shot at redemption before she gave up on him completely.

  But there was no way she’d come running if he got hurt. She still thought she could blame everything that ever happened to her on one single bad guy, and the bad guy was him.

  That was the other thing he’d do with his second chance. It had been wrong to let her go on believing something from outside yourself could destroy your whole life. He didn’t mind playing the bad guy if she needed one, but realizing she was in control of her own life would set her free. Nobody could take success away from her if she was true to herself.

  That’s what he’d tell her, but he’d find a way to tell it that sounded a little less corny.

  The edges of the shadows sharpened and for a second he thought he could see, but then he realized he was still hallucinating. He had to be, because the woman sitting beside him really was Sarah—but she was dressed in gloriously dirty cowgirl clothes. She was the Sarah he’d been hoping to find, her hair windblown and tangled with little bits of straw dangling here and there. And she wasn’t wearing a shred of makeup. Her face was pink and unadorned except for a smudge of mud across her forehead.

  She looked like a girl from Two Shot, Wyoming, like a woman who’d shed those prim little suits and forbidding frowns forever. She looked like a woman who held a horse and pressed her cheek against its neck, the woman who kicked rocks and danced in worn-out boots, a woman who made love in the bed of a pickup in the moonlight, a woman who danced the simple, timeless dance of trust with a horse when she thought nobody was looking.

  The curtain’s metal rings zinged across the rod as a nurse whipped it back.

  “Looks like he’ll be okay,” she said. “He’ll have one heck of a headache, and he might not be much use for a few days, but tests show no real damage.”

  Her voice didn’t sound one bit like Sarah’s. In fact, if he couldn’t see her, he’d think he’d been right about the ducks. But Sarah was there, standing beside the cot, and Trevor was sitting in his wheelchair in a corner of the cubicle, his eyes suspiciously bright.

  “He was never any use anyway. Can we take him home?”

  “Soon as he’s okay to get up.”

  Sarah—it really was Sarah—smiled at him and he almost thought he was dying again, she glowed so bright. The last time he’d had a wreck he’d seen her holding that horse and he’d thought she was some sweet equestrian angel come to take him away. Now he knew she was no angel.

  But if she’d just drop her guard she’d be the kind of woman he needed. He reached out a hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She reached up at the same time and he trapped her hand in his. He knew what they meant now when they said you’d been shot by Cupid’s arrow. He felt like that duck, downed by a single shot.

  “It’s you,” he said.

  “Yeah.” She even talked like a small-town girl now. Maybe he really had died and gone to heaven.

  “No, I mean, it’s really you.”

  She laughed and spread her arms. “That’s for sure. Complete and unadulterated. Unbathed, too. Sorry. I was playing with your horses all day.”

  Playing. That’s just what he’d hoped she’d do.

  “Don’t be sorry.” He squeezed her hand and felt his own heart expand in response. “This is the way I love you.”

  The smile faded. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Sure I do.” He’d vowed to tell her the truth, and there it was. Something in her heart called to his, and no matter who she decided to be from here on out, he’d always love her. “I know you don’t want to hear it. I know you think I took your life away from you. But Sarah, I didn’t. I…”

  “I know.” Her eyes brightened with unshed tears and she looked even more like an angel as she wrapped her other hand around his. “I know what happened with Flash. I know you helped him, and you didn’t steal him. You saved him.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think you might have saved me too.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, so he figured he’d talk about the horse. He suspected the two of them would do that a lot if they ended up together, and that was fine with him. “I was lucky. I could afford the best vets, the best tests to find out what was wrong. You would have done the same thing.”

  “I know. You’re right.” She smiled and she seemed okay now, the hoarseness gone from her voice. “We ran up one heck of a vet bill trying to figure it out. But then we had to give up and work around it.”

  A single tear escaped her eye, flowing in a slow, crooked line down her cheek. “He suffered. I feel so bad.”

  “You couldn’t know.”

  “It’s just—if a horse is hurting, he’s supposed to limp. It should show in his gait. Flash never showed it.”

  “He jus
t powered through it. He never stopped trying, and he wouldn’t admit to weakness.” He reached up and wiped the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “He was a lot like you. You were hurt, and you just powered through it.”

  “I did it all wrong.”

  “You did your best, and it was damn good. You took care of your sister, and you built yourself a future.”

  “Which came crumbling down when your brother fired me.”

  “It didn’t fall down. It just changed.” He reached up and stroked her jawline and she turned her head, rubbing her cheek on his hand like a cat. He cupped it, loving the feel of her warm skin against his palm, and watched her close her eyes. She might be tough, she might be hard as nails when she needed to be, but there was a sweetness at the core of her that he wanted to cherish. Sarah would always take care of herself, but he’d be there for her when things went wrong. Always.

  “You know you have a future on the ranch if you want it,” he said.

  She pulled away and shook her head. “I can’t, Lane. I just—can’t.” A shadow crossed her face and he knew there was still something holding her back. “But whatever I do from here, wherever I go, you’re part of it.” A tear welled up in the corner of one eye and she swiped it away. “I guess I always knew it. Dangit, remember that first day you came to the office? I knew you could see right through me. At first I thought it was a sex thing, but it was more.” She bit her lip. “A lot more.”

  She bent down and brushed his lips with hers. It felt so good he tried to rise, but that pain shot through his head again and he couldn’t. But she bent again, and this time it was more than a brush. She kissed him with all the passion and power he’d sensed was hiding behind the mask. When she finally drew away, her face was flushed.

  “I love you, princess,” he said.

  “Don’t call me that.” She said it reflexively, but this time she said it with a smile. “I’m not like that. I’m not precious and prim and spoiled like a princess. I’m real, and I could kick your butt if I wanted to.”

  “I know that. I always did,” he said. “I’m just glad you figured it out too.”

  Chapter 40

  Sarah watched Lane muscle a wheelbarrow full of hay bales into the shed that housed some of his older mares. As far as she could tell he never got rid of a horse once he’d bought it, no matter how difficult, elderly, or infirm the animal was.

  She straightened her new straw hat, which was already smushed and dirty from hard work. It was time to stop focusing on horse crap and start straightening out a few things. She and Lane had spent about a quarter of their time in the barn, a quarter in town, and a generous, heavenly half in the loft of the Love Nest.

  But neither one had wanted to bring up the future.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “I hate it when you threaten me,” he said, turning away from the mare. “That’s just mean.”

  “Lane, I’m serious.”

  He turned back to the mare. “That’s even worse.”

  She tugged on his shirtsleeve and he turned to face her. After all the time they’d spent together over the past week, she should have been used to him—but the light of his smile still made her take a step back.

  And then a step forward.

  This was where they both belonged. Standing in the sun-streaked grass, breathing in the clean summer air, and kissing like their lives depended on it. She moved her hands up his chest, then down, savoring the strong, square strength of him. When she swept her hands down his sides to his back, he shuddered and she felt a thrill of triumph.

  But this wasn’t talking. And talking was what they needed to do.

  He must have felt her stiffen because he stopped and looked in her eyes. “Here? Now? Do we have to?”

  “Yes.” She took his hand and led him over to the shady side of the shed, where a few oblong hay bales rested against the wall.

  “You’re not going to tell me you’re leaving, are you?” He shot her a mock stern glare. “Don’t tell me I have to hog-tie you in the barn to keep you.”

  “No.” She put a hand on his knee. “I’m not leaving.”

  “But something’s changing. You’re looking at me like you feel sorry for me.”

  “I know we work well together, Lane, and I think the last day or two you’ve just assumed I’m going to work for you.”

  “Honey, the last day or two I’ve just assumed you’re going to marry me.”

  She widened her eyes, stunned.

  “Oops.” He slid off the hay bale and suddenly he was kneeling at her feet like a prince in a fairy tale. He reached for her hands, but she tugged them away. What the hell was he doing? Proposing? Had he said “marry me”?

  She wasn’t ready for this.

  “Lane…”

  “Shh. I need to think. I was going to write a little speech, but now I spilled the beans and I’m going to have to think of it on the fly.”

  “Lane, it’s okay. You can work on the speech later.”

  “Is that a yes?” His smile was boyish and eager. Hell, she could just say yes, tumble off the hay bale into his arms, and get back to that kiss. She could marry him and stop worrying about everything. She even had a job—a job she could actually do.

  Which was what she needed to talk to him about.

  “Can we put off the personal decisions for now? I need to talk to you about work.”

  “Okay. Let me tell you about the benefits we offer here at the LT Ranch.” He lowered his voice. “The first one is sex on demand.”

  He looked so serious she had to laugh. “Lane, I get that anyway.”

  “True. But if you work for me, it’ll be permanent. Of course, if you marry me…”

  “Lane. I’m serious.”

  “I know. We’re going to have to work on that.”

  “I got a job.”

  The playful light left his face and he rose. Sometimes she forgot how beat up he’d been by that last bull. He was still moving slowly, clearly feeling the aches and pains.

  “A job.”

  She took a deep breath. “With your brother.”

  He smiled, but it was clearly an effort. “He hired you back?”

  She took a step back and held out her arms. “Meet the new Executive Director of Community Development for the Carrigan Corporation.”

  He groaned. “I didn’t see this coming.”

  “Oh, come on.” She smacked his arm. “You’re the reason the job even exists.”

  “And you’re taking it.”

  “I already did.” She grinned. “It’s exactly what I need.”

  ***

  Lane felt Sarah’s words like a blow to his chest. Sure, he’d planted the idea of a community liaison in Eric’s head. But it had never occurred to him that it could be the first step toward losing Sarah.

  Not that he wanted to trap her at home. It was good for her to have options, to step into her new life willingly. But over the past few days, he’d become more and more certain she was happy at the ranch. She belonged here. He could no longer even picture her putting on that straitlaced suit every day, going back to the corporate world. She might come back at the end of the day, but it wouldn’t be the same. In the future he’d pictured, they were both immersed in this world—the world of the ranch, of horses, of building a life on the LT Ranch.

  “This isn’t what I had planned,” he said.

  “I know. But you can’t always have what you want.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry. It’s what I have to do.”

  He nodded, staring into the distance, his mind whirring like a revving engine as he thought of ways to change her mind.

  What could Eric give her that he couldn’t? When he’d first met her, he’d thought they would never make a couple. He’d thought she liked the clothes, the boardrooms, the fancy wine and gourmet food. He’d called her princess, and he’d thought the name fit—but now he knew better.

  She was a part of this world—not the one she’d left behind.

  “
Do you really want to go back to the corporate stuff?”

  He saw the answer in her eyes and his heart leapt with a shot of hope. But he could see her struggling to overcome the reluctance that was at her core.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do. I have to.”

  “Why?”

  She fidgeted, clasping and unclasping her hands. He hadn’t seen her do that since she’d left Carrigan. Was he going to have to watch the old, brittle, struggling Sarah come back? Was he going to have to live with a woman who was lying to herself every day?

  “It’s a chance to give back to Two Shot.”

  That wasn’t the defense he’d expected.

  “You were right when you said the town made me what I am,” she continued. “I owe a lot to Two Shot, and Eric’s going to give me a chance to pay it back.” She set her hand on his arm. “What you did was a good thing, Lane. We’re going to get the things we need before the drilling even starts. But I was wondering. Does this mean you’re going to let them on the land?”

  “I’ll deal with that when it happens,” he said. “And if it does, it’ll be all right. I can get a conservation easement. They can only drill if they do it clean. They can’t disrupt the landscape or screw up the water.”

  She nodded. “Then everybody wins. Including me. I get a chance to really make a difference.”

  He nodded. Much as he wanted her on the ranch, he could see that her motives were good. She knew what the town needed. She knew the people and the problems. And for a while, anyway, she’d be based in Two Shot.

  But what would happen when the project was over? Eric would want her to move on to another community. And he’d lose her.

  “When do you start?” he asked.

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” He stood. “I need to make a couple of calls.”

  He sure as hell did. He needed to sign on for a couple of rodeos, see if they’d accept a late entry. He’d been saving the news of his retirement from rodeo for a time when he and Sarah were alone, but when he pictured her going off to work in the morning, heading into town, he knew his days would be long and empty. He might as well climb back on the bulls.