Once Upon a Cowboy

by Day Leclaire

  She stared at him, struggling to read his thoughts, wishing she had the nerve to make the first move and throw herself into his arms. But she didn't want him having any more regrets. Any moves would have to come from him. As if reading her mind, he tugged her closer.

  "I've been wanting to do this all evening," he said, and kissed her.

  Instantly, all their differences melted away as if they'd never been. Held tight in his arms, anything seemed possible. City slickers could become cowboys and a stubborn rancher could love another Texas woman. A ranch house could become a permanent home filled with love and laughter and the patter of tiny cowboy feet.

  He cupped her breast, his kiss deepening. She suspected if they'd been anywhere but here, he'd have taken the embrace to its ultimate conclusion.

  How was it possible after only one day she could miss galloping so much? He must be missing it, too. He tugged her tighter against him, shifting against her, his need unmistakable. She clung to him, opened to him, gave without hesitation.

  Eventually they surfaced for air. "I still want you. It's wrong. I know it's wrong, but I can't seem to resist you."

  "I'm not asking you to."

  "Even after the way we parted last night?"

  She pulled back so a ray of light speared her face, allowing him to read her expression. "If all we have is this summer, then I'll take it."

  He pulled her close again, but to her disappointment, he didn't attempt to kiss her again. For a long time neither spoke and she wished she could spend the rest of the night nestled in his arms. But she suspected there were one or two issues they should address.

  She peeked up at him. "I'm sorry about Lem's store," she said, breaking the silence between them.

  A muscle clenched along his jaw. "You pitched in to set it to rights. Lem appreciated that."

  "Everyone helped. Even you." She hesitated. "It all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

  A frown gathered between his brows. "His store will recover, and eventually Lem will, too. But that's not the point." He seemed to check himself, cut off the words she sensed raging within.

  If they were ever going to come to terms, they needed to be open with one another. "We never did have a chance to clear the air," she prompted. "I suppose this is as good a time as any. Unless you don't want to?" She tried not to look too hopeful.

  He took a deep breath, foolishly taking her at her word. "Today was bad, Tex. I admit, it could have been worse. But it never should have happened. A cowboy who knows his business would have prevented that longhorn from ever getting into Lem's store."

  "I admit my cowboy instincts let me down this time."

  A hint of anger flared. "That's enough, Cami. It's time to face facts. You don't have any cowboy instincts to let you down, because there's no such thing. You learn this business by doin' it, day after day, month after month, year after year. It isn't a talent you're born with, it isn't encoded in your DNA at conception. It's a job with skills that have to be learned."

  "I'm learning." When he appeared doubtful, she insisted, "I am, Holt."

  His arms slid away, allowing a chilling breeze to come between them. "That's a matter of opinion. If nothing else, today should have taught you just how limited your skills are. Take it as a warning. Don't get cocky. And stop telling yourself that you're a natural born cowboy. It'll only lead to disaster."

  She met his gaze with cool defiance. "I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on this particular topic. I am a cowboy where it counts—in my heart. And I always will be."

  She turned to leave, but he caught her arm in an iron grip. "Go home. Before you get hurt." Pain ripped through his gaze. "Before I hurt you any worse than I already have."

  She didn't look at him, merely shook her head. With an exclamation of fury, he spun her around. "You drive me crazy, woman." He snatched her in his arms and planted a hard, passionate kiss on her mouth. Then he set her from him. "With you on my ranch, I'll never know a moment's peace until you're gone. Let's get back inside, before we do something I'll regret."

  "Like you did last night?"

  For an instant, she didn't think he'd reply. Then he shook his head. "I don't regret that. And I hope you don't, either."

  She watched him strike out for the hall and smiled. "I don't regret a single moment," she whispered.

  * * *

  Cami quickly found that after Western Roundup, the ranch swung into full action. The next two weeks passed with astonishing speed. The days were long and difficult. They were also the most marvelous she'd ever experienced. There were herds to be rounded up, bulls to be scattered, and yearlings gathered for shipment. Determined to prove her worth, she worked harder than she ever had in her life.

  Most of all, she lived for the stolen moments when Holt took her into his arms and kissed her, renewing a hope that burned in her heart. And though they'd come close to repeating what had happened at the hot spring, when the critical moment came, he disappointed her by finding the willpower to end their embrace. It didn't stop her from anticipating the time his willpower ran shorter than their embrace.

  To her surprise, Charlotte continued to linger, and Holt continued to find room for her at the ranch. And though her mother never interfered with Cami's duties, she seemed edgy and anxious.

  "Leave her be," Frank recommended. "What she's facing she has to face alone. There's nothing you can do to help."

  "I don't understand," Cami complained.

  Frank hesitated. "I think it has to do with being back on a ranch."

  Dismay filled her. "But if it's so painful, why doesn't she leave?"

  "She knows it's time to either overcome her fears or give in to them." His gray eyes grew bleak. "Let's hope it's the one, and not the other."

  Cami's concern deepened. Was she to blame? Did her mother stay—and suffer—because of her? If so, she'd soon put a stop to it. Before she could take action, Holt called her over. He and several of the guests stood near the corral.

  "Time to get to work," he announced. "Today, we get to see how well you folks can rope."

  Cami groaned. For some reason she still hadn't found her rope user friendly, and most everyone knew it. "You want me to watch, right?" she suggested. The guests laughed. Even Holt laughed, something he hadn't done for a while.

  "Nope. I want you in there with the rest of them, Tex. Y'all are going to experience firsthand the fine art of wrasslin'. That herd of Herefords we rounded up need to be branded and vaccinated and checked for injury."

  "We're not going to brand them ourselves, are we?" one woman asked in a faint voice.

  Cami gulped. Just how much of that red oozy stuff occurred when branding and vaccinating?

  "Gabby will take care of the branding," Holt assured them, much to Cami's relief. "Okay. This is how it works. I'm going to split you into two teams. The first team ropes the calf and drags him out. The second team grabs the critter, flips and holds him down while he's branded and vaccinated. Tex, get Petunia into the corral and let's see what you can do."

  "Petunia's not a cuttin' horse," Gabby said to Holt.

  "No, but she'll put up with our wrangler's antics better than any other horse I have. So today, Petunia's a cutting horse."

  Self-consciously, Cami saddled Petunia and entered the corral. She noticed her mother coming to stand at the rail to watch. Cattle milled at one end. Slowly she rode to the edge of the herd, picking out a young calf to rope.

  "This is it," she muttered. She swung the rope and tossed. And missed. "Dang."

  "Try again. Go for that little guy over there."

  She jerked around. Holt, mounted on an unfamiliar horse, spoke from behind. "You got it," she said. This time her toss dropped square over the calf's head. Petunia immediately backed up, pulling the youngster from the herd.

  Frank joined the team on the ground. "Just grab a handful of skin, fore and aft, and flip the calf on his side," he instructed. "One of you take the head and pull his front leg toward it. Someone else, take the hind leg
."

  Awkwardly they followed Frank's instructions. Once they'd successfully secured the calf, Gabby approached with the branding iron. Another wrangler handled the vaccination and set the bawling critter free. The calf made a beeline for his anxious mother.

  "Whatcha waitin' for, Tex?" Holt demanded. "Get your next calf."

  This one, larger than the last, proved more difficult to rope, evading every one of Cami's attempts.

  "You need to heel him," Holt explained, coming up beside her. "Swing your loop alongside Petunia high and slow. Take your time so you don't rile the herd." He demonstrated, circling his rope level with his shoulder. "Ease it under the calf right in front of his hind legs and jerk hard as soon as his hooves hit the middle of the circle."

  Snaring the struggling critter, Holt dragged him over to the ground team. This time Frank stood back and let the guests flip the calf and hold it for branding. Assured they'd gotten the knack of wrassling, he retreated to the top rail of the corral fence to watch.

  Cami continued to rope the calves. The smaller ones, which she could catch around the neck gave her little trouble. It was the larger ones she had to heel, that were the problem. Time after time, Holt came up beside her and caught the ones she missed.

  Once again he proved the point he'd been making all season. She had no experience. No wonder he refused to consider her a cowboy. How could he, when she couldn't perform the simplest of cowboy duties?

  She progressed through the herd, fighting the dust kicked up by the milling animals. The plaintive bleats of the calves mingled with the concerned moos of their mothers. The stench of burned hide hung thick in the air. The sooner they finished this job, the better she'd like it.

  Attempting to heel an escaping calf, she dropped the rope directly in the path of his hind legs. The second he stepped in the loop, she pulled up sharply. To her utter amazement, she caught herself a calf.

  "I did it!" she shouted. "I got one!"

  From his position on the railing, Frank stood, whooping in delight. Just then a cow slammed against the wooden rail. Frank teetered, fighting for balance. It proved an unsuccessful fight. He fell into the milling cattle, disappearing beneath surging beasts. A cloud of dust concealed him from view.

  Standing at the far rail, Charlotte screamed.

  Chapter 9

  Reacting instantly, Cami kicked Petunia in the rump and cut through the herd with desperate speed. "You, cow! Get away from him!" she shouted. "Haul your tail outta there. You tromp on anything vital and I'll turn you into hamburger."

  "Over here," she heard Frank groan, from somewhere beneath a young heifer.

  Pulling up alongside, she shooed away the Hereford and offered a hand. Grasping her wrist in an iron grip, Frank swung up behind her, his right arm pressed to his ribs. Carefully she rode to the far side of the corral.

  Charlotte ran to the gate and swung it open. She took one look at Frank's bruised and scratched face, and promptly burst into tears.

  He slid off Petunia. "Stop your caterwauling, woman," he ordered sternly. "I'll live."

  "This time," Charlotte flashed back, through her tears. "What about next time?"

  Frank grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a quick shake. "Gol'durn it, Charlie, I have had it! I'm clear out of patience with you. I've gotten through the past forty-five years and lived to tell the tale. Whether you believe me or not, I aim to get through the next forty-five the same way. If you want to share any of those years, you're going to have to get over your fears. Because I don't have time to hold your hand and reassure you every time I take a spill."

  To Cami's everlasting astonishment, her sweet, southern, proper momma opened her mouth and shouted, "Who says I want to share anything with you?"

  "I do!" With that Frank tossed her over his uninjured shoulder. Glancing around at the stunned crowd, he inclined his head. "If you'll excuse us, we have a detail or two to work through in private." He stomped across the yard toward his horse. A moment later, he and Charlotte were sharing a saddle.

  Cami watched them disappear over the ridge. It took her a moment to gather her wits to speak. "Well, who would have thought?"

  "Get on with ya, Tex," Gabby groused. "Those two have been circling each other like a pair of wary dogs ever since your momma first stepped foot on the place. A blind man could have seen it."

  "You talk too much, old man," Holt muttered, pulling up beside Cami. He shot her a look of concern. "You okay?"

  "You think she loves him?" Cami asked in wonder, staring after her mother.

  "Let's go for a little ride," Holt suggested. He urged his mount into an easy trot and Cami fell in beside him. "Would it upset you if she did love Frank?"

  Cami frowned, considering. "Not really. I always figured Momma hadn't remarried because she loved my poppa so much no one could replace him. Maybe I was wrong."

  "I wouldn't say you were wrong. Just a bit off base." He hesitated, eyeing her keenly. "She must have been widowed pretty young."

  "Twenty-two."

  "And she's never had a serious relationship since?" Cami shook her head and Holt frowned. "That's a long time to be without someone to share your life with. Think maybe there could be another reason she didn't remarry?"

  Cami regarded him with an intent gaze. "You think she was afraid, don't you? That it wasn't only love for Poppa that kept her single, but fear of getting hurt again."

  He nodded. "Makes sense doesn't it? Isn't that why she came here? Because she was scared spitless you'd be injured in a ranch accident, like your father?"

  "Yes," she admitted.

  He reined in beneath a widespread cottonwood and leaned across the saddle horn. "Care to hear how I see it?"

  "Okay."

  "I don't think she hung around the A-OK out of worry for you alone. I think she also stayed because of Frank. I think she fell in love with another cowman and couldn't decide which was worse. Leaving that love behind, or staying and facing her deepest fear—of losing another man to a ranching accident."

  "She was afraid to love and lose again." She cleared her throat and said daringly, "Sort of like you."

  He reared back and his horse danced beneath him, pawing at the ground. "We were discussin' Charlotte. Let's stick to that, shall we?"

  She took his rebuff with good grace, but gave herself points for a solid hit on the truth meter. "Right before the Western Roundup dance Momma talked about returning home, but she didn't. I couldn't understand why. I guess this explains it."

  "She fell in love with Frank."

  "It would seem so." Cami grinned. "She sure didn't stay because of me. She'd already concluded I could take care of myself."

  His eyes narrowed. "And just how did she come to that conclusion?"

  Cami shrugged. "She knows cowboying is in my blood."

  "That tears it!" He crushed his hat low on his head. "Tex, you and me are gonna straighten out this misconception of yours once and for all. Cowboying is in your blood, is that what you believe?"

  "With all my heart."

  "And I assume cowboying was in your father's blood. And that cowboying is in Frank's blood. But look what happened to them." He waited for his words to sink in, then snagged her reins, drawing her close to emphasize his point. His eyes were fixed on hers, his expression stern and relentless. "Ranch life is dangerous even for a skilled cowboy. And, Tex, you aren't even close to skilled. Get too cocky and you put not only yourself in jeopardy, but others as well."

  "I'd never, ever hurt someone," Cami insisted, shocked. "Why, whopping that snake just about broke my heart."

  "I'm not saying you'd be neglectful on purpose. I am saying that out here ignorance can kill."

  They were chilling words, words he forced her to heed. "You know I try my best," she said in a low voice. "And you know I love this life more than anything."

  "I do know you try," he assured her. "And I know right now you believe this lifestyle is the best there is. But that's because it's a dream you want to fulfill, a connectio
n between you and your father. But for me, it's a permanent way of life. Once you've played out your fantasy and proven to yourself you're daddy's little cowboy, you can pack up and leave. I'm here for good."

  She sat rigid in the saddle, defiance in every line of her body. "You're wrong. And one of these days you'll eat those words. Whether you're willing to face it or not, you are like Momma. You're afraid of repeating a past mistake, the same as she is." She nailed him with a cool, direct stare. "But a cowboy, a real cowboy, isn't afraid of anything."

  And with that, she snatched her reins free and turned Petunia's head toward home.

  * * *

  "Afternoon tea," Agnes muttered, banging a kettle onto the stove. "Since when do we serve afternoon tea? Where the blue blazes does she think she is, anyway?"

  Cami sat at the table arranging wafer-thin lemon slices onto a tray. "Momma's just excited."

  The housekeeper's expression soured. "About what?"

  "It's a surprise."

  "Well, I don't like surprises." Agnes switched her aggression to Frank. "And what are you doing here?" She didn't wait for a response. "Takin' up space, that's what you're doin'."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Your ranch is thatta way, in case you've forgotten." She jerked her thumb south.

  "Yes, ma'am. Sure is." He yanked on his collar. "That tray ready yet, Tex? Charlie'd like it in the parlor."

  "Sure thing." She handed it over.

  Agnes whipped around. "Parlor? What parlor's that? We don't have a parlor!" she shouted at Frank's rapidly retreating back. She stomped to the sink, muttering beneath her breath. "Flowers takin' up every one of my good pitchers. Next she'll have candles dripping all over my table. Well, I won't stand for it, you hear?"

  "They can hear you in Alaska," Holt said, striding into the kitchen. "What's all the hollerin' about?"

  "Hollerin'?" The housekeeper advanced in his direction. "You haven't begun to hear hollerin'. You know what that silly twitter bug of a woman wants? I'll tell you what she wants. She wants four petties. What in tarnation's a pettie, I'd like to know? I don't even know how to make one, let alone four of 'em."