The Courage of a Cowboy

by Kristin Vayden

  Before seven thirty, Kessed was back in the kitchen, dressed and teeth brushed, her hair piled into another messy bun. Why not? It wasn’t as if she were trying to impress Jasper.

  The very opposite.

  As soon as she took the last bite of cereal, a rumbling sounded from outside, signaling Jasper’s truck. Not a minute later, a knock sounded. “Come in!” she called as she walked toward it as it opened. “Hey.” She waved Jasper inside, studying the two plastic bags he held.

  “Mornin’,” he mumbled, as if groggy.

  “Still asleep?” Kessed teased, not able to resist the chance to harass him. As they moved into the kitchen, she picked up her coffee mug, using it as a distraction. His hair was tousled, his expression less guarded, and it had a strange effect on her heart.

  “Almost.” Jasper yawned, setting down the two sacks. “Had a breech calf last night. It turned out all right, but not until after taking as long as possible.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Believe me, it was anything but.” He sent her a quick glance. “But it’s always worth it when you watch them stumble and stand, alive and well.” He slipped the plastic off and revealed a boot box. “See if they fit.”

  Kessed set her mug of coffee down, a smile crossing her lips even as she tried to tamp it down. “So, you found red?”

  “Did I say that?” Jasper asked as he leaned against the wall.

  “Well, no. I’m just assuming.” She hesitated.

  “You know what they say about assuming things—”

  “Yeah, yeah…” Kessed waved him off dismissively and set the box on the table. She lifted the lid and the paper that covered the contents. A wide smile broke across her face as she took out one bright cherry-red boot then another.

  “If they don’t fit… lie,” Jasper spoke, and Kessed glanced to him then, his wide smile full of amusement.

  “They don’t fit.” Kessed arched a brow.

  “You haven’t even tried the damn things on yet,” Jasper replied, his tone beleaguered.

  “Don’t swear at my boots.”

  “Ah, you like them then?” His grin widened, and her heart did a strange thump in response.

  Turning away quickly, she replied, “No, I love them.” She set them down on the floor and slipped one of her feet inside. The soft leather hugged her calf through her skinny jeans and wrapped around her foot like a glove. “I’m beginning to understand why people wear these so much. Wow, they are comfortable.” She twisted her foot to get a better view. Leather detailing wound around the top, making a feather-like design that continued down the boot to her toe.

  “Try the other one on. I bought heels so you’re not so short,” Jasper remarked, and Kessed expressed her irritation in a glare.

  He lifted his hands in defense. “Just saying.”

  “I’ll let it slide since you brought them.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “No one in this room is lucky, or getting lucky, or anything of the sort.”

  “That spiraled quick. Should I be concerned? I mean, my mind wasn’t even going there, and yours was… hmm… What does that say about you?”

  “I’m ignoring you now.”

  “If you were ignoring me, you wouldn’t have to tell me.”

  “Can you just show me what’s in the other bag while I walk around in my amazing boots and pretend you’re not standing there?”

  “And here I thought that I’d be getting a thank you,” Jasper replied under his breath, just loud enough for Kessed to hear.

  She stopped her pacing, sighing. “Thank you.”

  “Was that so hard?” Jasper asked as he pulled out a set of leather work gloves and handed them to Kessed.

  “Yes. Yes, it was.”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  “Always. So, gloves. Thank you.”

  “Gratitude right away? Wow. You learn fast.”

  “I’ve always been quick on the uptake. What’s your excuse?” Kessed asked irritably.

  “Didn’t know I needed one.” Jasper chuckled, shaking his head.

  “So how much do I owe you for the boots?” Kessed asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.

  “Time. Sunup to sundown. It’s going to take that long to get this place set up.” Jasper let out a sigh.

  “Sounds good. Will work for boots.” Kessed nodded.

  “Not surprised.”

  “Enough talking!” Kessed made a slicing motion with her hand. “What do we need to do first?” she asked.

  Jasper grinned, rubbing his chin with his hand. “First, we need to check the barn for a post pounder.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “I’ll show you. But before we head out, go and grab some old sneakers to put in the back of the truck. Your boots will need to be worked in, and you might need to switch them out later today.”

  “I don’t want to take them off.” Kessed narrowed her eyes.

  “Your blisters, not mine,” Jasper replied, opening up the screen door and pausing.

  “Fine. I’ll meet you out there.” Kessed tossed her gloves onto the table and ran back to her room, picking up the sneakers from yesterday. As she made it back to the kitchen, she swiped her work gloves from the table, knocking down the boot box. The lid went sliding across the floor, and a piece of paper floated down to the floor.

  Kessed picked up the lid and started to crumple up the paper, pausing when she noticed it was a receipt.

  For the boots.

  The very expensive red boots she was wearing on her feet.

  Dear. Lord.

  Blinking, she glanced from the scrap of paper to the door, then back, a slow smile teasing her lips. It had been a long time since someone had done something nice for her… without trying to take credit. Yet suspicion crept in.

  There was always a catch.

  A reason.

  People didn’t just do nice things, not expecting something in return.

  The receipt crinkled in her hand as she balled it up then strode to the back door.

  “Hey, Jasper.” Kessed jogged toward the barn, waiting for him to answer.

  “In here.” His deep baritone carried across the drive.

  Kessed tried not to notice the way her beautiful new boots crunched on the gravel, or the way they made her stand a bit straighter due to the square heel, or the way she felt like a badass just wearing them. “You didn’t mention that these boots were three hundred dollars. What are you trying to pull?”

  Jasper straightened, a confused expression marring his otherwise perfect face. “Say what now?”

  “These boots? I saw the receipt. Why in the hell would you pay that much? What’s in it for you?” Kessed stood her ground, waiting, watching.

  “I thought we agreed that your time was payment for the boots?” Jasper replied, opening the door to a storage room in the barn. “I’m not complaining. I can’t see why you are.” He ignored her question, disappearing into the dark room. “Damn, it’s darker than the inside of a cow. You have your phone?”

  Kessed paused then took out her phone, switching on the flashlight app. “Here. And I’m not complaining, but I don’t want to be naive either. People don’t spend money unless they expect something in return.”

  “Shine it over there, yeah. Thanks. And uh… you do realize you’re talking in circles, right? What am I missing in this conversation that somehow makes sense to you?”

  “You can’t buy me.”

  Jasper slowly turned, his expression fierce, hurt. “You think I bought those boots to get you in bed with me?”

  Kessed stepped back, her hackles rising. “Well? Did you?”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve never had to resort to any sort of bribery to get a woman in my bed, if you get my drift. And I’m pissed that you’d think so little of me. Damn.
” He shook his head.

  “Is it wrong to ask?” Kessed defended herself, hating that she felt ashamed for asking.

  “No. But it sucks that I can do something nice for you, and you immediately think it’s something underhanded. You know what? Enjoy the boots. I think I’ll work better alone.” Jasper shook his head and stomped back into the dark hole, the flashlight now pointed at the ground.

  Kessed narrowed her eyes. “Two can play that game.”

  “What game!” Jasper roared, stomping back out from the blackness. “I’m not playing anything, sweetheart. I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty simple. What you see is what you get. If I had a plan or pretense, I’d probably last about five minutes before I’d have to just lay it out. That’s who I am. Take it, leave it, but don’t insult it,” he grumbled then stalked off to another corner of the barn. “Damn posthole pounder.”

  Somewhat defused, Kessed sighed. “What’s the damn thing look like?” she asked, walking toward Jasper.

  “Not sure if I want to tell you. Won’t you just twist it?” He spoke tersely.

  “Now you’re being an ass. I didn’t call you an ass. I asked if you were one. Which, by your own definition of self, if you were, you’d be compelled to tell me. So, don’t be the ass.”

  Jasper dropped his chin to his chest. “You’re insane. You know that?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “At least you’re honest. Fine. It looks like a really long metal pipe that has handles on the sides, and it’s closed off on one end.”

  “Was that so hard?”

  “It didn’t have to be, yet you made it that way,” Jasper mumbled.

  “Heard that.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Kessed bit her lip, trying not to smile. Her eyes scanned the semi-dark barn, and she walked over to Margaret, Cyler’s mare. “Hello, beautiful.”

  The chestnut mare nodded a welcome, nickering. Kessed stroked the soft velvet of her muzzle.

  “Distracted much?” Jasper asked, but his tone held a hint of humor.

  “Yes. Deal with it.”

  He chuckled, and Margaret bobbed her head, gently shoving at Kessed. “I know you want a treat. You’re going to have to be patient. I need to find something first.”

  Margaret stomped her foot, and Kessed gave her a pat on the neck before she went around the mare’s paddock, looking for the posthole… thing.

  All sorts of farm implements lined the walls of the barn. To Cyler’s credit, they were mostly organized, but it didn’t help that she had no idea what the method was to the organization. As she scanned the various tools for one that fit Jasper’s description, she saw a rusty metal handle lying in the corner. Walking over to investigate, she narrowed her eyes in the dimly lit barn. “Hey, is this it?”

  Jasper’s footsteps grew louder as he walked over to where she pointed. “Yup. Good work. Let’s get moving—unless you have more questions?” He arched a brow in challenge.

  “I’m good.” Kessed shrugged, noncommittal.

  “Sure you are.” Jasper pursed his lips but slung the tool over his back and headed out into the sunlight.

  Quickly, Kessed ran to the tack room, snatched a sugar cube, and extended her palm to Margaret, who greedily lipped it from her open hand. “I always keep my promises,” Kessed whispered, touching Margaret’s cheek tenderly, then jogged out the barn door.

  Jasper’s pickup roared to life, and Kessed hopped into the passenger seat. “Ready?”

  “Waiting on you, sunshine.”

  After setting her phone in the cup holder between them, she turned to Jasper. “So, fence posts today, huh?”

  “Yup.” He nodded, not turning toward her but keeping his eyes toward the dusty road.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I would think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” Jasper gave her a quick glance.

  “Humor me.”

  He sighed. “We need to hammer the T-posts into the ground to replace the rotting or pulled out wooden ones.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” Kessed shrugged.

  Jasper chuckled. “For you. You’re not the brawn in this business.” He eyed her up and down before turning his gaze back to the road. The truck lurched to the left as they went over a pothole.

  “I’m the brains?” Kessed guessed, her grin widening.

  “Sure. Let’s say that.” Jasper twisted his lips as if holding back a laugh. “Although, to be fair, you were the one who had no idea as to what we were even doing, so…”

  “Not my area of expertise.”

  “I’ll say.”

  “I’ll be the beauty then.” Kessed shrugged, her gaze falling to her red boots. Yep, she felt like a cowboy princess, even if she didn’t have the first clue as to what a cowboy princess even did.

  “Well, of the two options… that’s probably the closest you’ll get,” he jabbed.

  “Ha. Funny.” Kessed arched a brow.

  They rounded a hill and pulled up to where they’d started evaluating the fence yesterday. The brakes squeaked softly as the truck came to a stop, and soon Jasper was pulling long metal posts from the truck bed while Kessed watched from the fence line.

  “Kessed, why don’t you go and start pulling those posts out and laying them beside the broken wooden ones. Think you can handle that, sunshine?”

  “Wait, no. That’s not going to stick. I don’t answer to sunshine, slick.” She accented the last word threateningly.

  “You’re so uptight. Seriously, you need to loosen up… sunshine.” Jasper turned away, but not before Kessed spied the beginning of a grin.

  “Pain in the ass,” she muttered, but walked to the truck. One by one, she laid out the green metal posts on the dirt with the white tip facing away from the broken fence.

  Jasper filled the air with the pounding sound of metal on metal as he drove a post into the hard, sunbaked earth.

  “Is that all for this round?” Kessed asked as she dusted her hands off.

  “Yup, the easy part is done,” Jasper replied, his breathing heavy from the manual labor.

  Kessed watched as he lifted the steel pipe, holding it over the metal post. His hands gripped the side handles and slammed the pipe down over the metal post, the closed-off end of the pipe acting like a hammer and driving the pole into the ground.

  After the second post, Jasper wiped his face with his black T-shirt, then stretched, pulling it completely off and tossing it toward her. She blinked, trying to pretend she wasn’t impressed by the way his back muscles bunched with each movement or the way his broad shoulders tapered down to a V that she hadn’t ever seen on someone other than in the movies.

  Hot damn.

  “Catch,” he said belatedly, but Kessed had already reached out and caught the shirt. “Toss it in the truck for me? And can you get me a bottle of water? I put a whole case in the back of the cab.” He turned back to the fence line, picked up another post, and as Kessed walked to the truck, the sound of metal on metal pounding filled the canyon once more.

  Sure enough, in the back of the quad cab was a huge pack of bottled water. Kessed pulled out two and turned toward Jasper, watching with fascination as his shoulders bunched with each pound. His arms were all hills and valleys as his biceps narrowed to his elbows only to grow into forearms that had somehow escaped her notice before now. His skin held a slight tint of a tan, telling her that he worked like this just often enough to keep from what would surely be an impressive farmer’s tan. She measured her steps, enjoying the view but not wanting to risk being caught. As Jasper finished up the third post, Kessed closed the distance and held out the bottle of water.

  “Thanks.” He twisted off the cap and downed the liquid in less than ten seconds.

  Kessed stepped away, keeping a safe distance. It was unnerving, the unexpected attraction she felt toward Jasper.
As he turned back to her, the feeling of apprehension grew.

  “Is there anything else I can do? I’m kinda bored just standing here,” she lied. Watching him was anything but boring.

  Jasper frowned. “Sorry about that. Hmm…. Why don’t you take the truck and drive on ahead? You can lay out the posts for me and then swing back and pick me up.”

  “Sounds good.” Kessed nodded then caught the keys as he tossed them toward her. “Same places we went yesterday, right?”

  “Yup. Just don’t forget about me, ’kay?” He gave a quick wink before pounding back on the post.

  Kessed all but fled to the truck, then pressed on the gas a little too heavily in her rush to get away. The tires kicked up dust, and she saw Jasper pause and watch her from the corner of his eye as she drove down the road.

  With each moment that passed, her body relaxed a bit more.

  Sterling. She wanted Sterling. Not Jasper. Sterling—her best friend’s brother. She’d loved him as long as she could remember.

  Yet as she pulled up to the next line of broken fence, she had the sinking suspicion that this unwanted attraction she felt for Jasper was only the beginning.

  This was going to be a long few days.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Like a bat outta hell.

  Jasper bit back a grin as he turned to the next fence post. If Kessed had driven away any faster, she’d have left rubber on the gravel road. He’d thought she was studying him, but her need to flee the scene confirmed his suspicions. But more than that, it told him what she wasn’t willing to even admit to herself.

  She was afraid.

  Kessed… brave, bold, unreserved, and louder than Fourth of July fireworks—was scared.

  Of him.

  Okay, so maybe not only him, but certainly of what he represented.

  Something she couldn’t control.

  It was amazing how people and animals could be so different, yet so alike. Kessed was a skittish filly—proud, brave, and stubborn. Yet like any filly, a soft hand, a kind word, and slow movements were the key to winning over the foal’s affection. He had a strong inkling that she’d be the same.

  And would probably punch him in the throat if she ever knew he’d compared her to a horse.