A Cowboy and a Promise

by Pam Crooks

  Donnie clamped his mouth. Ava took a small step forward.

  “Look, Donnie,” she said with more patience than Beau had. “It’s best to talk to us now. Just answer our questions. That’s all we’re asking of you.”

  “Better you talk to us instead of Deputy Connor,” Beau warned in a low voice.

  The teen’s glance darted between them. His shoulders slumped.

  “My dad left,” he mumbled. “He has a bunch of deliveries to run on the West Coast. He’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  “You don’t have anyone to stay with you right now?” Ava asked, her voice soft.

  “I’m all right. Don’t need no one.”

  Beau knew when someone was hurting. He’d been through it himself after he got back from Afghanistan. People tended to lash out, do things they ordinarily wouldn’t do, when, deep down, they just wanted someone to understand. To care.

  “You have a job?” he asked, quieter.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then how do you intend to pay for that broken window?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Did you ever think you could’ve hurt Miss Howell by throwing that rock? Could’ve done some serious damage to her.”

  “Didn’t know she was there. Her car was gone, and uh…”

  “Why did you break my window, Donnie?” Ava asked.

  He flicked a swath of long hair over his shoulder and avoided looking at her. “’Cuz I knew you had some money, and uh, I was just going to see if I could find it.”

  Beau hardened his jaw. “What then? After you found it?”

  “I don’t know. Hadn’t decided for sure.”

  “Seems to me you went through a lot of trouble for something you weren’t sure what you were going to do with.”

  Donnie shuffled. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the ground. He’d clammed up but good, and Beau tugged on the rope, just enough to get the teen’s attention.

  “Were you going to steal my money again?” Ava asked. “Like you did at the gas station?”

  “Not all of it. Just enough to—to help me buy my own truck and get by for a spell, you know?”

  Ava exhaled; Beau could see her dismay, plain as paint on her face.

  “Don’t know why you thought you were entitled to anything she might have, but you’re wrong,” Beau said. “What do you reckon she should do about it? Call Deputy Connor?”

  Donnie’s head came up. “Don’t tell him, okay? I mean, my dad will just get mad again.”

  Beau crossed his wrists over the saddle horn. “So you committed a crime of vandalism with the intention of robbery, too, but you think you should get away with it.”

  “I never said that.”

  Beau glanced down at Ava. “Is Roger around?”

  “It’s possible. I can check to see if he’s in his camper.”

  “You know how to ride?”

  Her brows lifted. “A horse? No. I’ve never ridden one. Why?”

  “We’ll walk over with you, then.” He swung down from the saddle and began to coil his rope. “I’m going to free you up, Donnie, but if you get the notion to take off again, you’d best remember I got my horse, my dog, and Miss Howell here to chase you down. Not a chance you’ll get away from us.”

  Again, the teen’s glance darted between them. Reminded Beau of a scared calf that’d come face to face with a couple of wolves.

  The kid could use some reassuring. Beau turned his back, focused on rewinding the leather strip around the looped lariat before securing it to the saddle again. “I got a plan going, Donnie. I think it’s a good one. Hope you’ll agree.”

  “What is it?” he asked, his tone sullen.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Beau purposely declined to give details. The kid would likely just fight him on it, and Beau didn’t want to give him the chance before he even had the particulars.

  Ava, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly what he intended. He found her watching him with a faint smile of approval on those pretty lips of hers, and that made his chest swell like a rooster’s in pleasure.

  “Tie your shoes,” he said in a low voice. She must’ve been in a real hurry to switch out her flip-flops for her running shoes. “How you made it this far without tripping is a wonder.”

  “I know.” Lips softening, she dropped to a knee and made quick work of securing her laces on both feet before rising again. The three of them fell into step, Beau’s horse in tow and Gunner trotting alongside. They passed through the ghost town jobsite and headed to the meadow where the crew made their camping grounds.

  “Some of the men go home to their families on the weekends,” Ava said, shading her eyes against the setting sun while she searched for her foreman. “But Roger doesn’t have much family, so he stays here. There’s his camper. See him by the grill?”

  Beau found the curling smoke, with the grizzled contractor keeping a close eye on whatever he had on the grate. The nearer they got, the more appetizing the smell became. Their approach caught Roger’s attention, and he set a plate and long-handled spatula on a folding table.

  “Wasn’t expecting company,” he boomed, striding toward them. “Nice surprise.”

  “Got a favor to ask,” Beau said, halting.

  “Name it.”

  “This young man needs a job. Has a debt he needs to pay off, so we’re not fussy about the work.”

  “Whatever you can find for him to do,” Ava added.

  Roger regarded the teen with a faint nod, his gaze touching briefly on the hair hanging over Donnie’s shoulder and down his back. Rog had been in the construction business for a long time; he’d worked with men from all walks of life. If anyone could give Donnie a helping hand, it was him.

  “What kind of work interests you, son?” he asked.

  Donnie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You good at anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, now, I reckon that’s not true. You just don’t know what it is yet. I’d say by the time you’re done out here, you’ll have a fair idea.”

  The teen’s brooding expression didn’t change. Roger’s unruffled glance lifted to meet Beau’s, his brow lifted in question.

  “His name’s Donnie Templeton,” Beau said.

  “Bud’s boy?”

  “Yep.”

  Roger nodded grimly. Beau figured it was a good thing now and again when everyone in town knew just about everyone else and the goings-on in their lives. Saved a lot of explaining.

  “Be out here at seven a.m. sharp, Donnie,” Roger said. “We’ll show you around and get you going.”

  “The thing is, Roger, he has no one at home right now,” Ava said. “We’d like him to stay out here with you and the rest of the crew. Keep an eye on him, if you would.”

  “I don’t want to stay out here,” Donnie said, sounding mutinous but a little panicked, too. “I don’t need looking after.”

  “Sure, Ava,” Roger said, as if the boy hadn’t protested. “He can bunk with the rest of the crew. Most of them sleep under the stars at night. Campers get stuffy in this heat.”

  “That work for you, Donnie?” Beau asked.

  “You ain’t giving me a choice, so why are you even asking?”

  “Call your brother and give him a heads-up about where you’ll be,” Beau ordered smoothly. “I’ll stay right here while you do.”

  With a martyred roll of his eyes and a muttered comment that sounded less than respectful, the teen pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and did what he was told. While Beau eavesdropped, Ava and Roger decided upon a fair wage. After things were settled, Ava thanked Roger, and Beau shook his hand.

  “Appreciate your help, Rog,” he said, his words sincere.

  “Happy to do what I can.” He returned his attention to the teen. “You hungry, son? Caught a few fish at the lake this afternoon. There’s plenty if you want some.”

  Donnie’s heavy-lidded gaze jumped to the grill with enough interest to i
ndicate he was hungry, all right. “I guess.”

  “I’ll be by in the morning to check up on you,” Beau said.

  “And I’ll see you at the jobsite,” Ava added.

  “Fine.”

  Clutching his phone, Donnie turned on his heel and headed toward Roger’s camper, his hair billowing in the breeze. Roger chuckled, set his hands on his hips and shook his gray head. Beau wished him good luck under his breath, and Roger strode off to join his new charge.

  “Any bets he’ll still be here in the morning?” Ava asked with a little nibble of her lip.

  “Ball’s in his court,” he said. “The kid needs to take responsibility for his actions. We’ll see what he decides.”

  “Thank you for all you did for him.”

  “He deserves a chance to do the right thing.” He brushed the sweat-dampened hair off her forehead. “What’d you think I’d do? Grab him by the scruff of his neck and haul him off to Nash’s office?”

  Her lips—the lips that haunted his thoughts ever since he’d kissed her—puckered, as if she had to hold back her laughter. “That’s exactly what I thought. You did it once before, remember?”

  “That was different.” He scowled. “He’d stolen your purse. C’mon, let’s go. I want to get your window boarded up before dark.” He laid his palm against the small of her back to bring her in front of him, closer to his horse. Her heated skin through the thin fabric of her blouse made him think of her skin getting heated a different way, against his, late at night. He scowled again. “Climb up.”

  But she drew back, bumping against his chest. “He’s really big, Beau.”

  “He’s a she. A mare. You know what one is, right?”

  She twisted to flash him an are you serious? look. “Yes. I know what a mare is.”

  “You’ve never ridden a horse before? Ever?”

  She moved away. “Only when I was a kid. Those ponies that walked in a circle all day long, you know? Like at carnivals and stuff?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t count.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Time you learn then, honey.” Hand on the curve of her waist, he pulled her in front of him again. “Up you go. Always mount on the left side. Put your left foot in the stirrup. Grab hold of the saddle horn with one hand, the back of the saddle with the other. It’s called a cantle.” She bounced a couple of times on her right foot for the momentum to heft herself up. “There you go. Swing your leg over. That’s a girl. Not bad for a first-timer.”

  She settled in with a faint creak of leather. “Whew. Looks are deceiving. I’m really high up here.”

  “You get used to it.”

  “You’re not leaving me alone, are you?”

  “Nah. Take your foot out of the stirrup.” He patted her left calf to indicate which one he meant; after she complied, he pushed the toe of his boot in, grasped the saddle horn and cantle, and swung up behind her. The mare shifted, taking their weight. Beau brought his arms around Ava and bettered his one-handed grip on the reins, then rested his fist on her thigh.

  “Are we too heavy for her?” Ava asked.

  “She’s strong. We’re not going far.”

  A couple of prods with his boot heels, and the horse plodded forward. It was hot, but that didn’t stop Beau from leaning in close, just to feel Ava’s back against his chest.

  When again would he have a chance like this?

  She was so deliciously close, he had to get closer. He tilted his head to accommodate the Stetson’s brim and nuzzled his chin against her temple, enjoying it more when her breathing turned uneven. He inhaled the scent of her sweat; he took the lobe of her ear between his teeth and tasted its saltiness.

  On a sigh as wispy as a breeze through the leaves, she angled her head toward him. “Listen up, cowboy. I’m at a clear disadvantage up here with all that smooching you’re doing on me.”

  He chuckled, low in her ear, and moseyed down to the curve of her neck. “You mean no one has smooched with you on a horse before?”

  “You know darn well they haven’t.”

  “Then I want to be the first.”

  His arm tightened around her waist, and her hand splayed over his forearm, her touch easy, relaxed. Her body slackened, conforming to his. As if everything he made her feel weakened her, clear to her bones.

  His nuzzling turned into some groin-warming licks and nibbles; he journeyed across her cheek, his target her mouth, and considering her head had come to rest on his shoulder and her face reached toward his, she put that pretty mouth of hers nice and close. He was almost there, landing a kiss on its corner, and just as her lips parted, encouraging him to follow through on the way to kissing a woman in the way she should be kissed, the mare stopped.

  Just like that. In front of her cabin. And wouldn’t budge another step.

  The mood broken, he lifted his head.

  “Damn it,” he muttered.

  Ava sat straight up, breaking the connection between their bodies.

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “Didn’t take long to get here, did it?”

  “No.” He growled the word. “It didn’t.”

  She angled a look at him. Her eyes twinkled. A sure sign she knew he was frustrated and she took some female pleasure from it.

  “You getting down first?” she asked, innocent as a nun. “Or am I supposed to?”

  He gave up the fight. Like it or not, Ava Howell had more smooching in her future. He wasn’t finished with her yet.

  Not even close.

  He dismounted, and she followed, proving she was a good learner by reversing what she’d done to climb up to get herself down.

  But she didn’t head for her cabin. And he didn’t remount his horse. Instead, they stood together, intimate and comfortable, and Beau took his time in just looking at her.

  The blond hair mussed from her run and the heat, the way she always wore it, tucked behind one ear. Blue-green eyes so deep he could fall into them. Soft, brown lashes and sculpted cheeks with just the right amount of pink.

  Female perfection.

  And if he didn’t quit lusting after her, he’d take her right now, here in the dirt.

  “I’ll run to the shop, get some plywood,” he said roughly.

  She made a measured nod, as if pulling herself from a daze. “I’ll sweep up the glass.”

  “I won’t be gone long. A few minutes.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Before he could hope for anything more, she turned and went inside. The door latched behind her, forcing his lust to evaporate like fog in a meadow, and a slow, thundering realization to keep him frozen in place.

  What he’d just done was stupid, selfish, and what the hell was he thinking? Snuggling up to Ava and loving her up so she’d satisfy some pretty carnal urges on his part was wrong. He couldn’t let his attraction keep growing, couldn’t keep wanting to kiss her every time they were together. He had to rope his fascination for her in, like he’d roped in Donnie, and bring it to a screeching halt.

  Hadn’t her reaction after their date proved it?

  Weren’t their differences on her ghost town project proof enough?

  But he was too bullheaded to accept what she’d tried to tell him; he was pushing her too hard into a relationship that could never happen.

  He had to back off.

  Starting now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Beau was avoiding her.

  At first, Ava thought he was just busy, like everyone else. A spread as big as the Blackstone had a never-ending list of chores that needed to be done: cattle had to be fed, fencing fixed, hay cut and baled, machinery repaired.

  Besides, she was busy, too. Long days that started early and ended late. She had a crew to manage, contractors and inspectors to juggle, permits to pull, scores of deliveries of lumber and supplies to keep track of…

  Well, it wasn’t surprising their paths didn’t cross.

  They lived different lives, right?

  But
she missed him and his muscled, low-voiced, cowboy sexiness. Every day, she wrestled him out of her mind so she could concentrate on doing her job. Besides, if she saw too much of him, he would only stir up too many feelings, like a hot, bubbling brew, and she had to avoid that, more than anything.

  She would leave the Blackstone Ranch once her job at the resort was done. They both knew she would. It was part of the deal, and she didn’t have a choice. She had no home in Texas. Hers was in New York. Most important, she had employment there.

  Excellent, prestigious, to-die-for employment with a respected company, which she’d worked hard for and earned.

  Feelings for Beau were a waste of time.

  But they wouldn’t leave her alone, those feelings. Like late at night, when she relived his bone-melting kisses after their first date. Or the feel of his thick, muscled arms around her shoulders on the dance floor. Or those sweaty, cuddled close moments on his horse. Arousing moments. Ava-could-fall-in-love-with-Beau moments.

  He turned her world upside down and her heart inside out.

  Still, she couldn’t quite put her finger on the change in him. A subtle pullback. Like he’d erected a thin wall between them, transparent enough to see through but thick enough to keep them apart.

  Beau Paxton was a man of honor. She’d known it from the moment she first met him in Paxton Springs, at the gas station. Never once had he showed a lack of respect for her. In fact, only the opposite. He wouldn’t use her for his personal pleasure. Everything Beau did, he did for the right reasons.

  A cowboy with a code of honor, clear to the bone. And, oh, so hunky.

  He had a purpose in erecting this barrier between them. He could’ve done so for a myriad of reasons. She just didn’t know which one yet.

  “Ava. Hello-o, Ava.”

  Nick Bolton’s hand waved in front of her. He was the Paxton family’s longtime banker, and he, Ginny, and Roger, along with an architect whose name she couldn’t quite remember at the moment, sat around the table grinning at her.

  “You were miles away,” Ginny said.

  “Please forgive me.” Cheeks warm, she sat straighter in her folding chair. “I was, I’m afraid.”

  Their meeting here in the restaurant-to-be had been scheduled at the last minute, a quick get-together to show the resort’s progress. The group had toured the jobsite, then returned to the roominess of Old Man Rupert’s former living room to discuss future updates and cost comparisons. A pair of fans kept the air moving; an old wooden table and folding chairs gave them the ability to meet away from the distractions of power tools and a constantly moving—and noisy—crew.