Roping the Daddy: A Contemporary Western Romance (Kester Ranch Cowboys Book 3)

by Tori Kayson

  Kierra’s lashes lifted to find her mother staring at her. “Yeah. He found me. I didn’t know he’d been looking for me.”

  “He helped with all the cleanup and then he looked a bit lost. I figured it had something to do with you.”

  “Oh?” Good grief. What did her mother want? A rehash of their disastrous prom, the absolute worst night of her entire life? Like she’d ever give her mother that kind of information. They were close, but something like that was best shared with a sister or best friend.

  But, heck, the news probably traveled through the entire town of Coldwater Ridge like wildfire back then. Mom probably already knew all the sordid details, passed on from one of her friends, but Kierra had no plans to dredge it up. Old news. Best it stayed where it belonged. Back in high school. In the category of Do Not Repeat that Mistake. Ever.

  Sweat trickled down her back and she squirmed in her shirt. “Mercy, it has to be a hundred degrees out here already.” Kierra glared at the stainless steel mug. “What was I thinking bringing coffee? I should’ve filled it with iced tea.”

  Her mother smiled, but not from amusement. More like a secret kept. “Do you need anything from the store?”

  “No.” No! What Kierra needed was for her mother to leave, now. Before her astute parent dragged the sorry story out of the Hazardous to Your Health archive where it had been entombed for the better part of a decade.

  “All right then. I’m off. Call me if you think of something.” Her mother gave Kierra one last hard look, as if waiting to see if she’d change her mind. Then, she twisted and headed for the truck.

  Crisis averted, Kierra turned back to focus on the action in the pen, the mug halfway to her lips, when a head popped up in front of her, startling her.

  “Oh!” She jerked back, lost her grip on the mug, and it plunked on the ground. If it weren’t for the lid, her tablet would be trashed.

  “Hey.” Cody grinned, looking proud of himself for surprising her.

  “Hey yourself.” She bent over and scooped the much-needed java off the ground, buying a few seconds to recover. She rejoined Cody at the rail, linking an arm around the wood post, and studied the kid, a mini version of Hawk.

  The boy already towered over the fence post. For sure, he’d be as tall and lean as his six foot three dad. And all legs just like Hawk had been in high school. Same cinnamon colored hair, but Cody wore his longer and bangs flopped over his forehead.

  She met his eyes, and her pulse stuttered. Silver irises like his father’s, but with more of a blue tone and a hard edge to the corners. Sad, if she were to put a name on it, like life had bounced him around, tumbling and spinning out of control worse than an athletic shoe in a dryer. He was too young for such unhappy eyes, contradicting the wide smile that puffed out his cheeks.

  “Are you having fun?” she asked.

  His head bobbed up and down. “I don’t want to leave. But my dad says I have to.” Like a light bulb switched off, his face darkened.

  “I’m sorry.” That seemed rather harsh of Hawk. Did he really not want his son on the ranch with him? Or was he worried about Cody tagging along for the round up?

  “Yeah. Me too. I wish I could stay. There’s so much to do.” His arms spread wide, encompassing the entire ranch in his gesture.

  She chuckled. “That’s true. Ranching is a lot of work.”

  “But it’s fun work. My dad even says so.”

  “Cody!” Jayce hollered and motioned from the far side of the pen.

  “Gotta go!” The boy swiveled so fast his hat flipped off his head. He scooped it off the ground and flashed another grin at her before he raced toward Jayce, his boots kicking up dust.

  A warm feeling coated her belly. This was her calling. Not just showing off their ranch but helping people love Texas as much as she did. And it sounded like Cody needed some time to be a kid, like Hawk said. Maybe Fargo could talk with Hawk. Let him know that it was all right if he brought Cody along on the ride.

  She didn’t think Cody would have a problem with riding along. He appeared quite comfortable around horses, and it was obvious how much he looked up to and respected his father. Even if things hadn’t worked out between them, at least Hawk had done right by his son. Being a father agreed with him.

  Unlike the roles of boyfriend or husband.

  Her gaze scoured the crowded pen and honed in on the cowboy. At the same instant, his head lifted. Over the mass of humanity and livestock, the tan Stetson shielding his face and sunglasses hiding his eyes, she felt his scrutiny. But then he removed the shades. And winked.

  Mercy!

  She swallowed hard as heat rocketed through her limbs, puddling her legs. If it wasn’t for her grip on the rail, she would’ve crumbled to a heap on the ground.

  She rolled her head to the left. Nobody there, not even over her shoulder. Then, she pivoted to the right. Dead space.

  The man had winked at her!

  She moaned. This was going to be a long, tortuous week. How would her wounded heart ever survive a week on the trail with him?

  ****

  “Do we have to go tonight, Dad? Can’t I go back in the morning?” Cody pleaded for at least the hundredth time as he stuffed the rest of his clothes in a duffle bag.

  “Cody, we’ve been over this.” Hawk had no plans to rehash the conversation he’d already spent hours going over in his own head. He scooped up the kid’s dirty clothes and set them on the bed.

  Cody huffed, snatching the clothes and adding them to the already bulging bag. “But I don’t mind getting up early if it means spending another night here.”

  “I know, Son. Neither do I, but your mother wouldn’t appreciate me dropping you off before five.” Brigit was never up before the sun hovered over the horizon. And dark thirty? Forget it.

  Cody kneed the bag closed then zipped it, his posture finally admitting defeat.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Can I go tell Jayce I’m leaving?”

  “Sure.” Hawk could make at least one small concession. He closed the shed door and set out at a brisk pace, the kid lagging behind. As they neared the dimly lit porch, Cody tromped on ahead and jammed the doorbell, the chimes clanging rather loudly even outside the screen door.

  Hawk caught up to his son just as something brushed against his leg. He glanced down to see the white feline curled around his jeans.

  Sassy. Did that mean—

  “Hey, Cody. You’re not leaving already, are you?” A female voice sounded from the end of the porch.

  Mrs. Kester, er, Rebekah, sitting next to Kierra on the swing.

  Hawk scooped up the cat and cradled the critter to his chest. Protection from the glare Kierra flashed at him wouldn’t hurt.

  “Yes, ma’am. I came to say goodbye,” Cody said, his tone woeful. His head drooped over slumped shoulders.

  Well played, Son. Cody didn’t need an arsenal of words when his actions declared his unhappiness.

  “Awww,” Kierra cooed at Cody. Then sent another glare in his direction.

  What the heck? What had he done to deserve that? Hadn’t he tried his best to stay out of her way today?

  Rebekah hoisted herself off the bench. “I hope you don’t mean ‘goodbye.’ More like see you later, right?”

  “Right.” Cody glanced at Hawk for affirmation.

  Hawk nodded. At least, he hoped so.

  “Is Jayce here?”

  “No, honey. He’s at his house.” The older woman gestured toward the cabin tucked in the woods, almost hidden. “Go on over.”

  “Thanks. Can I leave this here, Dad?” Cody shrugged the duffle off his shoulder until it thumped on the porch.

  “Sure. Make it quick, okay? Your mom’s expecting you.” Not like she wouldn’t keep them waiting at the front door, though.

  “I will.” Cody’s boots thundered down the wood planks, a far cry from the death-sentence-type trudge across the yard from the shed. The kid could move when he wanted to.

  Rebeka
h fingered the knob of the screen door and angled around. “Want some coffee, Hawk? I have a fresh pot.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m good. Thanks, though.” He rubbed the smooth fur under Sassy’s chin, and the feline’s contented purr reached up to soothe his battered spirit. Much like last night’s under-the-stars think fest.

  Maybe he could get a cat for Cody? They didn’t require much work, did they? And a cat could be left alone for a few days if he could find someone to come in and provide fresh food and water and keep an eye on the litter box.

  “All right. Good night then. See you in the morning bright and early.” Her gaze swiveled to Kierra, still on the swing. “Kierra, see you at four.”

  “Sounds good. Good night, Mom.” Kierra flashed a smile at her mother. At least her expression had lost its venom. What was up with that?

  Hawk edged closer to the swing, but not enough to make her nervous. Wouldn’t pay to raise her ire. Not when they were fixing to head out on the trail and would be spending a lot of time together. Fargo had dropped the news earlier this afternoon that Kierra would be his assistant cook.

  Bet that went over real well.

  Lucky for him, he’d loaded up on peace offerings. He dug into his jeans pocket for the king-sized bag of candy and held it out to her.

  “Thanks.” She snatched it from his fingers, tore into the bag, and dumped a few chocolate goodies into her palm. “But I was really joking.” She tipped her head back and popped a couple pieces into her mouth.

  “I can see that.” Arrows of desire hit their target, an awakening of dormant muscles and blazing hormones, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He gulped and forced his rebellious gaze away from her lips and the graceful arch of her smooth neck to the cat now stretching in his arms, her sharp nails snagging his sleeves. He repositioned Sassy into a football hold and she stopped clawing.

  If only he could do the same with the females of the human species in his life.

  “So did Fargo talk to you?”

  “About…?” He nudged a hip against the porch rail, running a hand along Sassy’s back.

  “Letting Cody go on the trail.” Plop. Another candy disappeared down the hatch.

  Get a grip! His brain flashed a warning flare as passion flared through his veins. She’s not remotely interested in you. You ruined all chances of that a long time ago.

  What had she said? Fargo…Cody…trail. “Yes, he did. But Brigit’s expecting him back tonight.”

  “I’d heard she was back. What brings her back to sleepy little Coldwater Ridge?” The words were simple enough, but the way Kierra’s spine snapped into a straight line and the frosty bite in her tone said volumes.

  “Boyfriend.”

  Her mouth rounded. She shifted on the bench. “I’m sorry.”

  Was that an invitation to join her? He’d better not chance it.

  “No need to be sorry. Our marriage didn’t really have a chance from the beginning. Not when I was still so much in love with you.” Still reeling over his huge lapse in judgment.

  Kierra gasped. Swallowed. Coughed. She must’ve finally dislodged the candy. “Off limits,” she warned in a weak voice.

  He’d tried to treat his wife with respect and care, hoped that would be enough until love kicked in. But it hadn’t worked that way. Brigit had only grown more distant with every swig of the bottle, with every night away from home in another man’s arms.

  Just like his mother.

  “Most people claim it takes two to make or break a relationship, but I know better. Our divorce was entirely my fault. I should never have suggested marriage.” Shoot him for wanting more for his kid than his messy childhood.

  Sassy squirmed in his arms and vaulted from his hold. Seemed kinda fitting. He hadn’t been able to hang onto any of the women in his life.

  When he raised his head, their gazes met and locked. A million questions flickered in those coffee colored eyes, but he’d save the answers for another time. Maybe.

  He mashed his hands in his pockets. “So are you all set for tomorrow? This is your first round up gig, right?”

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  “How long have you been doing the special events at the ranch?”

  “Since Daddy died. Almost three years now.”

  “I’m sorry, Kierra. I really liked your father.”

  “Thank you. People say it gets easier as time passes, but I think you just have to adjust to a new kind of normal.” She sniffled and dabbed at her nose with her index finger.

  “I’m not sure I know what normal is.” Was there such a thing? He’d bounced around for so long, first with his mother, then as an adult. If normal existed, he was still looking for it.

  Hawk scraped a hand against the back of his neck and glanced toward Fargo’s house. What was taking Cody so long?

  When his gaze swiveled back to Kierra, metal glinted from her neck. He studied the necklace. Could it be the same one?

  Surely not. He shifted away from the rail and moved closer for a better look. “Well, I should rustle up my son. Four AM will come mighty early.”

  “True. Do you need to borrow my jeep?” She planted her palms on the wood slats, prepared to lift herself off the swing.

  The rhinestone studded silver cowboy boot slid into full view then. It was the same necklace. She still wore it? His heart thudded against his chest wall with more intensity than a rock concert.

  His eyes felt gritty and swallowing was a struggle. He licked parched lips, not sure what to do with this information. Shock rattled his nerves, rooting his boots to the porch.

  Cody bounded up the stairs, scooped up his bag and waited, breaking the spell. “I’m ready now, Dad.”

  “Ah, okay.” He followed his son to the stairs and then realized he hadn’t answered Kierra. He pivoted, trying hard to keep it together until he could analyze this information later. “I’m good, Kierra. Fargo took me to pick up my truck earlier this afternoon. Thanks, though.”

  “Sure. See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah. In the morning.” But he was fairly sure he’d be seeing her in his dreams tonight.

  4

  Kierra scanned the group of wannabe cowboys and cowgals huddled around their fearless leader, her brother, in the semi-dark morning, guzzling coffee as if it was their last meal. Didn’t they realize they wouldn’t go without much-needed caffeine on the trail? She couldn’t corral the smirk from sliding across her face.

  “The horses are all saddled and ready to go. What about you guys? Ready for the fun to begin?” Fargo asked, sarcasm sugaring his voice. He caught her glare and grinned.

  A low crowd murmur was the only response, and oversized hats bobbed up and down in haphazard motion. Looked like this motley group had stayed up too late partying last night. By afternoon, they would be in sorry shape. Especially Sterling, who winced loudly, squinted, and rubbed his slick forehead every time Fargo spoke. A hangover on day one? Not good.

  What made her think a mock round up was a cool idea? Worry slithered in, squeezing Kierra’s chest. She skimmed the tablet, double and triple checking her list.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him. He’ll be all right.”

  She almost jumped out of her boots. “Mercy! Give a gal some warning next time you invade her space, would ya? For Pete’s sake, I carry a gun.” How could she not hear Hawk sneak up on her? His distinct scent should have given him away. Rattled at being off her game, she glanced sideways.

  And wished she hadn’t.

  Exhaustion drooped most of the shoulders in the group, but Hawk stood every bit of his six foot three. His sky blue shirt, fresh and clean, stretched across his muscular chest and tiny curls escaped the scooped neckline.

  She rolled her gaze up—not lingering long on his unshaven jaw or that steal-her-breath grin because she knew they were trouble—to those bottomless silver eyes and then to the furrows permanently etched in his brow, almost hidden by the wide-brimmed hat. His life hadn’t been easy. Not like hers. At l
east, until the last few years. But, it appeared he was trying to make the best of what life handed him.

  The man was stealing her space and her peace of mind.

  She scooted back a fraction and inhaled a ragged breath, but that only made breathing more difficult. Because now her lungs filled with something earthy, all-too-masculine, and so unhealthy for her pulse.

  Mercy, the man looked so awake compared to the rest of the cow pokes out here. Or maybe that’s just how he made her feel.

  “You’ll keep an eye on…who?” Her? She crushed that hope. Ground it into the dew-heavy grass with her boot. No. Way.

  “Your sweetheart.” His tone definitely carried a derogatory ring as his hat flicked toward someone in the middle of the crowd.

  Her sweetheart? She frowned, her gaze trailing in the direction of his intense stare.

  Sterling?

  She sputtered. He thought Sterling was her sweetheart? “Um…”

  “All right, then. Let’s load up and hit the trail,” Fargo ordered, hiking a leg over his horse.

  Finally, a ripple of excitement electrified the hushed morning air as guests tossed their disposable cups in the trash can next to the barn and mounted their rides. In minutes, laughter and chatter punctuated the earlier stillness.

  Kierra gripped Charcoal’s reins, indecision pricking her conscience as she stuffed her tablet in the saddle bag. Should she correct Hawk’s mistaken impression or leave him to his own conclusions? She didn’t owe him anything. Least of all, an explanation or play-by-play of her social life. Paltry as that would be.

  “Mind if I ride close to you? It would be a good time to pick that pretty brain of yours.” Sterling appeared, holding the reins to his horse.

  Hawk’s nostrils flared, just a fraction. He swiveled and headed for the chopper. His flimsy shirt stretched taut against rippling back muscles and tapered to his waist, disappearing under denims that were worn and snug in all the right spots.

  She blew out a breath.

  “Did I interrupt anything?”

  Huh? Oh…Sterling. She glanced sideways.

  The man was eyeballing Hawk, a contemplative look on his too-polished, citified face.