How to Catch a Cowboy in 10 Days (Unlikely Cowgirl)

by Kimberly Krey

  She aimed the brightness of her phone at the table, spotted her laptop, and took off back to her room where she plopped back on the bed. The laptop glowed to life, revealing a picture on the screen. Some woman roping a man on a horse with the words “How to Catch a Cowboy in 10 Days.”

  “What in the world is this?” She minimized that screen, wondering if Jenessa had come up with that fake article. Would she go to such lengths just to set her up?

  Several screens remained open behind the image. Emails, she realized. From Tom. Ann had neglected her email all day, but who knew she’d missed so much? As she sifted through the half-dozen exchanges, Ann realized she hadn’t missed that many. Just one. A horrible one. An email that made every fear she had about Trey discovering the article flare into life.

  Ann! I’m so excited to tell you that we’ve accepted an offer, and you won’t believe what they’re doing with your article. Shimmer Magazine has put their finest on it, and they plan to spotlight with the title on the cover, a teaser in the edition before, and a recap on the edition after. Not only that, you’ll get paid more than you would have through Walquest Weekly. Cheers, lady! Let’s celebrate when you get back. Tom

  If Ann tried to tailor-make a disaster this big, she’d fall short. Everything was wrong with this scenario. She’d rather fall in a hole as deep as the Space Needle than write for Shimmer. And the theme? Talk about a stab in Trey’s heart. She’d never set out to write anything of the sort. She’d call Tom first thing in the morning and tell him it was off. He could fire her if he didn’t like the idea of her backing out. In fact, maybe she’d just quit altogether.

  Ann would clear things up with Trey. She would. She just needed to get some advice from Cassie first. Cassie’s the only other one who knew all parties involved.

  No, Ann. Don’t let Trey think for even one more minute that you’ve schemed this whole thing. She nodded, shut her laptop, and headed back down the dark, quiet hall.

  As she reached for the door, a thought came to her. She was doing this on her own. No coaxing or coercing. No fretting or talking herself out of it. It was a good thing, possibly a great thing under different circumstances, but nothing she could celebrate in the moment. Not until she could fix things.

  She rapped her knuckles on the door. “Trey?”

  Nothing.

  She used her phone to shine a bit of light under the door. Another tap. “Trey, I need to talk to you.”

  When no reply came, she creaked the door open. The room may have been dark, but one thing was clear, Trey wasn’t in there. Ann made her way down the hall and into the kitchen. She flicked on the light in time to see Randy shuffling in from the basement.

  “Hey,” she said. “Do you know where Trey is?”

  Randy stood there for a blink, shirtless and disheveled. “I figured he was with you.”

  Ann’s heart sputtered. “He was, but he’s… I don’t know where he is. Would he have gone down stairs to sleep for the night?”

  He shrugged, smearing a hand over his face. “You sure he’s not in bed? Or on the couch?”

  Urgency started a rapid tread in the center of her chest. Ann could feel it building as she rushed down the hall and flicked on the bedroom light. Just as she’d thought—no Trey. Off went the lights.

  She strode back down the hall to see that the couch was empty, the loveseat, too.

  “Maybe he was downstairs and I just missed him,” Randy said, his head hidden behind the open fridge door.

  Ann used her phone light to guide her down the basement steps. She shined it on the spot in front of the fireplace. Nothing. No one on the couch here either. Her desperation kicked up another notch as she headed back up the stairs, into the front room, and to the window where she looked for his truck. Gone.

  “He’s probably setting up a few traps out in the field,” Randy mumbled from the kitchen over a bite of food. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

  But Ann knew better. His text said it all.

  Panic. A full-fledged attack threatened to take hold. Tears were there somewhere, hiding beneath the surface of a woman who would not accept this fate. This was not how her story was going to go.

  It occurred to her that she had one more option: the phone. With a nod of encouragement, Ann scurried back to her room, plugged the thing back in before it died again, and swiped over to Trey’s number. With the first ring, her body began to relax. Even if he didn’t answer, she could leave a message. She’d get her point across. Tell him that even she hadn’t known what a mess Tom had made of things. She hadn’t asked for it. She wouldn’t accept it. And she’d give up anything necessary to put things straight. What she wasn’t willing to give up, was him.

  Chapter 35

  The sound of a long squeak caused Trey to stir. The slightest movement of his head. A small shift in his shoulders. And a quick readjustment of his propped legs.

  “Well, well, well. Look what the cougar dragged in,” a familiar voice boomed. “How ya doing, son?”

  Trey’s eyes shot open, the darkness reminding him he’d placed his cowboy hat over his face to sleep. He tugged it off and straightened up, stiff from sleeping on Al’s unforgiving patio furniture. “Awful,” he admitted.

  Al squinted, his gold eyes warm against the overcast morning sky. “Hung over?”

  Trey shot him a look. “No.”

  “Is it a woman?”

  Sheesh, were those man’s only troubles? “You said you’d be ready when I am,” Trey said, lowering his achy legs from the small table before him. He stood to walk out the tightness, placing his hat back on his head. “And now I am.”

  “You don’t say?” Al said with a nod. “Funny thing, I planned to call you this morning.”

  Trey lowered his elbows onto the railing, squinting against the pale sky. “What’s new?”

  “Sherry’s boy got accepted into that home in Tampa. She flew out last night to sign papers, look at a few places for us to live.”

  “Tampa?” Trey fought back the sudden quiver of his lip. Sherry, Al’s wife, had been seeking just the right placement for her special needs son for years now. Trey had been hoping they’d end up in Phoenix.

  “The place was first on her list,” Al said. “And it works out, seeing that Linda and Mark, Shell’s parents, are settled out that way. I hardly ever see them or the grandkids, you know? This will be better.”

  Trey suddenly felt like a small child. Like a boy about to watch his close friend drive off and never return. Of course, he had Ray and the rest of his family, which was more than most. But Al held a special place in his heart. And they had something in common: they both loved and missed Shell.

  Perhaps on some dark, quiet night after Al left, Trey would let the sadness take over. But now wasn’t the time. He sniffed and readjusted his hat. “How can I help you get ready to go?” he asked, turning to look at him.

  Al scrutinized him. “Is this your way of saying you don’t want to talk about your lady troubles?”

  “Yup.”

  Al nodded, a look passing between them. “Fine, then. Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter 36

  Steam rose from Ann’s mug as she brought it to her lips. Through the haze, coming into view on her laptop screen, was Tom. The man slid a hand over his slicked hair and readjusted his sweater vest. And then his bowtie.

  “Tom?” Cassie said, waving a hand at the screen. He used to be her boss, too, after all. “Can you hear us?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. Hi there, Cassie. Ann.”

  “So what did they say?” Ann asked, inwardly praying that it wasn’t too late.

  “They said it’s too late.” The words had a ring of finality.

  Cassie shook her head. “You told Ann five minutes ago that you could probably stop everything.”

  “That’s before I saw the preview they sent me.” He snatched a magazine off his burgundy desk. Familiar plaques on the walls behind him caught reflections of the pale, dreary sky, reminding
Ann of how very much she did not want to go back.

  “Here,” Tom said, flicking past a few ads. The face on the front was a model Ann had seen before. She couldn’t place her name, but she was sure half of the American population could. “Right here,” he murmured, bringing the page closer to the screen. “Remember how I told you there’d be a mention in the issue before and another one in the what-you-missed section in the issue following?”

  Cassie shot Ann a grave look.

  Ann nodded. “Yeah, but I thought that wasn’t until like two months from now.” She leaned in, scrutinized the page until she came to a section labeled Shimmer This. She scrolled down the subsections.

  Makeup tips.

  Stars.

  Music.

  Men—and that’s where it was. Ever wish you had what it took to lasso yourself a real live, horse-riding, bull-taming cowboy? Seattle Daily’s own Ann Simpson galloped all the way to Blue Sky Country to bring us her story—catch “How To Catch A Cowboy in Ten Days” in next month’s issue.

  Nausea was starting to set in.

  “I’m so sorry,” Cassie said. “We’re just going to have to make him understand.”

  Tom set the magazine down. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ann. I thought we were on the same page with this. I thought we’d be celebrating together.” The man pushed a wayward piece of hair back where it slicked back with the rest.

  “I know,” she said. But then something pricked at her. Spots of truths that told her Tom wasn’t as ignorant as he wanted to play. “You know what?” she finally said, scooting her mug out of the way. She firmed her shoulders, lifted her chin, and found her voice. “I think you did this on purpose.”

  Tom’s eyes shifted to Cassie before he looked back toward Ann. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that when you told me you were marketing my article to a couple other magazines, I assumed they were similar to Walquest Weekly. You must have known that too, because you refused to list them off to me.”

  “I didn’t refuse—”

  “You kept it a surprise,” Ann corrected. “Which is when I should have insisted on knowing who the others were.”

  Cassie gave her an encouraging nod.

  “You’ve known me,” Ann continued. “You’ve known the sorts of pieces I’m used to writing. I want what I write to be taken seriously. Not mocked. Not to be thrown onto some hideous cartoon with a phrase that lacks even an ounce of class.” She shook her head. “How to catch a cowboy, Tom? That’s shameless.”

  Tom blew out a purse-lipped breath. “I was working with what you gave me, Ann. Did you really think Walquest Weekly was going to pick up an article about your little adventure to cowboy land where you use the book to score a date?”

  “Watch it, Tom,” Cassie hissed. “It was a perfectly respectful article until you got your hands on it.”

  “Listen ladies,” he said, his eyes drifting to the corner of his room where his door was. “I’ve got a meeting to be at in ten, and I’ve still got to catch some lunch.” He stood, adjusted his bowtie once more, and stared into the camera for a blink. “I’m sorry it’s not what you hoped for. I did my best with the material you gave me. It’s too late to back out now.” And with that, the screen went blank.

  “Trey knows you better than this,” Cassie said, that positive tone in full-gear. “He’s going to show up sometime today and he’s going to hear you out and it will all be okay.”

  Ann nodded, feeling the truth in her words. She glanced down at Cassie’s phone when it buzzed, watched her face as she read over it. “Is that from Shane? Did they find him?”

  “Not yet,” Cassie said. “But it sounds like he’s planning to leave. He called the Emersons and asked if Randy could start taking over for him earlier than they’d planned.”

  “Starting when?” Panic brewed within as she awaited her friend’s response.

  Cassie scrolled down through her phone message, then looked up to Ann, her expression falling flat. “Today.”

  Chapter 37

  “Never knew you had so many books,” Trey said as he tucked a stack of books into the next box.

  “Most of them are Sherry’s,” Al admitted.

  That made sense. Trey had seen everything from romance novels to parental help books for those with special needs. He reached for a massive, antique Bible and placed it on top of the stack.

  “That one was Shell’s grandmother’s,” Al said proudly. “Didn’t keep many of her books, seeing that she had this place filled with cooking and sewing books and Lord knows I wouldn’t used them… But yeah, that has her notes and thoughts. Highlights.” Al ran a hand over the surface. “This one’s a keeper.”

  Trey could nearly feel the love and loss in the man’s words, not to mention the look on his weathered face. He glanced at the window behind him. The sun hadn’t come out that day. Not even for a minute. Fitting, he decided, considering all he had lost. Part of Trey wanted to ask Al how he did it. How he opened his heart again after being married to his first wife for so many years. Had he gone about it with purpose—deciding he was ready to love again? Or had it fallen into his lap like an unexpected gift?

  He circled the room. Ann would love this room. She’d fill the bookshelves quicker than Trey could blink. She’d love the barn and the horses and the land.

  No.

  The Ann who’d written the article wouldn’t love any of those things. She probably got his text, sighed with relief that she wouldn’t have to break up with him, and packed her bags. Heck, she’d probably caught a redeye. Landed back in the rainy city before he’d even caught a wink of shuteye on Al’s porch.

  Trey wished he could dismiss what he’d learned about Ann and the article, but the evidence was there; he’d seen it for himself. At the reminder of the image and emails, a deep ache tore through his chest, pulsing with sharp, heated jabs.

  He was really going to miss her. The way she had some off-the-wall fun fact for just about any situation. The way she always lightened his mood. The way her cheeks would blush when he teased her.

  A sigh pushed its way through his lips. Maybe it was better this way; with Ann in his life, Trey would likely find himself gripped by some terrible cycle of fear, the paranoia of losing her. It was probably best that he didn’t allow someone in his life at all.

  A knock pounded at the front door, and Trey and Al looked at one another. “You expecting someone?” Trey asked.

  Al shook his head. “Nope. You?”

  “No.” Trey followed Al as he headed toward the door. Out of the library, through the kitchen, and into the large front room. The view on the other side of Al’s screen door brought a shot of adrenaline to his blood.

  “How can I help ya, darling?” Al said as he creaked open the door.

  Ann stepped inside. Eyes rimmed in red. Cheeks pale. Still breathtaking. Her gaze fastened on Trey over Al’s shoulder. “Can I talk to you, please?”

  “Sure.” He eyed Al, who was glancing back and forth between the two of them.

  “This is the woman?” It could hardly be called a whisper; Trey heard it with ease, and he was further away from him than Ann.

  He rolled his eyes. Seemed like old folks knew how to read minds. “Come on out back, Ann,” he said. May as well get it over with.

  “Wait a minute, now,” Al said. “I didn’t get an introduction.”

  Trey looked at Al and shook his head. “Al this is Ann Simpson. Ann this is Al Myer.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. “You’re the one giving your ranch to Trey.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. And believe it or not, he’s usually quite appreciative of that fact.”

  “Oh, I know he is,” she said. “He’s told me a lot about you.”

  Al’s face lit up. “Ah, well, that sounds like the boy I know.” He looked back to Trey. “You can take her on back now. Just no making out, you hear? It’s not near dark enough outside for any of that.”

  Nausea settled over Trey as he weaved thr
ough the kitchen. With sweaty hands, Trey pulled open the patio sliding door, then motioned for Ann to step out back.

  For a moment she paused, glancing over one shoulder and into the room he’d been packing up. “Is that a library?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh my gosh, I love it. This house is really nice, Trey.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “Yeah,” Al piped up from the other room. “Thanks! The wife and I are moving to Tampa now, so all this could be yours if you and Trey decide to—”

  “Al!” Trey spat.

  “What? You’ve got a pretty girl here for ya. Just trying to sweeten the deal.”

  Trey shook his head. Ann didn’t want the deal. Turns out she never did.

  Ann’s cheekbones bulged as she stepped onto the porch; he loved how she looked when she held back a grin. Al was good at getting people to smile. Even if they were on the verge of tears, as Ann seemed to be.

  Just from getting busted, he mused, sliding the door closed behind them. That was probably Ann’s only regret.

  He spun back around to see her take a few slow steps over the slatted wood. She looked over the land with a gasp.

  “Trey, I had no idea the property was so large. Is that a pond over there?”

  He nodded.

  “Wow, it’s so gorgeous. And that barn,” she said, her eyes set on the red painted structure. It looks like it’s right out of a calendar. I love it.”

  “Enough to write about it?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

  “Trey, I’m so sorry for not coming clean about things sooner. I didn’t come out here to write that article, and that’s not why I was interested in you. I promise.”

  “Your emails to Tom say otherwise,” he said, turning his gaze toward the overcast sky.

  “I was reading a book that challenged me to assert myself. And I was hoping to score a job with Walquest Weekly. But it was supposed to be more like a self-help thing. I never wanted it to be about you and … trying to trap you into loving me…” She paused there. “Would you look at me while I explain, please?”