The Cowboy Way [Carnal Cowboys 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jane Jamison

  She spun Molly around, then got her horse moving through the gate and back outside the arena. “Do you really think so, Wy?” She took her hat from Wy.

  “He’s not always right, but he’s right about this.” Mitch crossed his arms and waited until she’d dismounted. “You might even win.”

  “Might? Hell, cuz, she’s got it made. The next rider under her time is a full two seconds off.”

  Wy seemed happy for her, so why didn’t Mitch?

  “I hope the hell you’re wrong.”

  “What? Why don’t you want me to win, Mitch?”

  “Because, if you do, then you’ll get too much attention focused on you. Including your photo in the local paper. That’s not what I’d call staying out of sight.”

  Mitch had a good point, yet she was stubborn enough not to agree. “Okay, so why’d you let me enter in the first place?”

  “Let you?” Mitch’s chuckle was filled with sarcasm. “If you’ll remember, I didn’t think coming to the rodeo was a good idea.”

  A few people were watching them. She led Molly over to the fence and wrapped her reins around it. Then, trying to keep a pleasant expression going, she motioned for Wy and Mitch to follow her to a quieter place. Once she was out of earshot, she whirled on them.

  “We haven’t had one word about George either here or back in San Antonio. And if you didn’t want me to ride, then you should’ve manned up and said so.”

  Wy pulled his hat lower. “Come on, you two. Calm the hell down. The last thing we need is a scene.”

  Mitch was about to explode. If he looked any angrier, she was afraid he might cause a bigger scene than her winning the event ever could have.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t put my foot down about this. Maybe it’s how Wy said. We find it hard to say no to you even when we know we should. But, lady, don’t ever go telling me to man up again.”

  “Fine. But don’t you go calling me lady in that tone again.”

  She was chest to stomach with him, ready to stand her ground. But being so close made it very difficult to stay upset with him. The man oozed sexuality. His strong confidence was an invisible layer to the hard muscles and wide shoulders.

  “I’ve already manned up. We took you in, remember? Don’t you go doubting it, either.”

  Damn, how she’d love for him to man up in an entirely different way. Not on a horse or at a rodeo, but in the bedroom. They’d left her alone for the past few days, and not wanting to force them to her bed, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  She swallowed, her irritation gone and replaced with an intense need. One glance at Wy said he’d be willing to have some fun, too.

  A holler from the crowd broke the tension between them, but she couldn’t switch her attention back to the arena. Instead, she pressed her palm against Mitch’s chest and reached her other hand out to Wy.

  Wy took hold, then looked back, narrowing his eyes. “Looks like we don’t have to worry. Nellie Bristol just beat your time.”

  “Damn,” she whispered.

  “Yeah. Too bad.” Mitch’s gaze lighted on her lips.

  Wy squeezed her hand. “How about we take this discussion back to the ranch? People are watching us more than the rodeo.”

  She forced herself to step back. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  “For what?” Mitch’s tone was low and sexy as hell.

  “For whatever you can dish out. Unless you’ve changed your mind about me.” She hadn’t meant to push for an answer, but it had blurted out anyway.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Neither one of you has touched me lately.”

  “Aw, shit.” Mitch narrowed his eyes, the need in them intensifying. “It’s not because we didn’t want you. After what you said about our fucking you for the hell of it, we figured we’d give it a break.”

  “To show you that we want you for more than just sex,” added Wy.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Wy patted her bottom. “Did it work?”

  “I guess we’d better get back to the ranch and find out.” She shot them a wink, then broke away from both of them and strode toward Molly. “You two can take care of my horse while I get a drink. I’m parched.”

  “Us? She’s your ride.” And yet there was more humor in Wy’s words than complaint.

  She kept walking, turning in a circle as she did to give them a sultry “come to me” look. “Stop whining and just do it, okay? It’s time for both of you to cowboy up. You know. Do it the cowboy way.”

  Laughing, she kept moving. If she looked back, she had no doubt she’d see two things on their faces. Irritation and a very obvious need to have her.

  Fortunately, there wasn’t a long line to grab a drink. Unfortunately, however, she was stuck behind an unruly child and a frazzled mother.

  “I want popcorn.” The child was around six years old and determined to have her way. She pouted, sticking out her lip farther than Chey thought humanly possible.

  “Lisa, I told you. You can’t have popcorn. You’ll ruin your dinner.”

  “I don’t care. I want popcorn and I want it now.” Lisa crossed her arms and started repeating the same words over and over. “I want popcorn. I want popcorn. I want popcorn.”

  The mother closed her eyes, obviously digging deep for whatever patience she had left. When she opened them, Chey smiled at the poor woman. Being a parent was a tough job, and she’d never thought much about having children. But after spending time with the Wilson cousins, she could almost hear her maternal clock ticking away.

  Wow. Me as a mom.

  The idea was both scary and exciting.

  Wy and Mitch as fathers.

  That idea was a fascinating one. One of men alone would be a great dad. But the two of them together? They had all the traits a woman could want in the father of her children. Loving. Kind. Gentle. Strong. Firm, yet fair. They covered all the bases.

  She had to help the mother. Thankfully, she’d gotten pretty good at handling young children. Too many came into the ER sick and upset. She knelt down in front of Lisa, her hand slipping into her pocket.

  “Hi, Lisa. I’m Chey. Did you know you have a quarter behind your ear?”

  Lisa stopped chanting about popcorn and stared at her. “Huh-uh.”

  “Yes, you do. And I can get it for you.”

  Lisa, however, had her own mind. She lifted her hand, ready to find the quarter by herself.

  “Oh, no. You can’t get it, Lisa. I’m the only one who can.”

  “I want my quarter.”

  Apparently, Lisa was a spoiled child who got everything she asked for. “Okay, but you have to do something for me first.”

  “What?” She was back to pouting.

  “You have to promise you won’t spend it. You see”—she leaned closer, talking in conspiratorial voice—“this is a very special quarter.”

  “It is?”

  “That’s right. If you take this quarter and don’t lose it, it’ll turn into two quarters tomorrow morning. But you also have to be as good as gold for the rest of the day. If you don’t, the quarter will disappear.” She glanced up at her mother. Her grateful mother caught on to her trick and nodded, silently promising to come up with the other quarter.

  “Really?” Lisa wasn’t pouting any longer. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the Chey’s face, expectantly waiting.

  “Uh-huh. So do you want me to get the quarter for you?” She reached toward the child’s ear, but pulled back before she made it all the way. “And you’re going to be a good girl? No more making a fuss?”

  Lisa nodded vigorously. “I will. I promise.”

  “Then we’re good.” Waving her hand in the air, Chey began chanting nonsense words. The little girl’s eyes grew bigger. Then, with one last flourish, she reached behind the little girl’s ears and pretended to find the quarter.

  Lisa gasped as Chey handed her the coin. “Remember what I said. No fussing. You have to be good or the quarter will di
sappear while you sleep.”

  “I will.” Entranced with the quarter, Lisa allowed her mother to take her hand.

  “Thank you so much.” Her mother glanced down at her behaving child. “Seriously. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad to have helped.” Chey stepped up to the stand, bought her bottle of cold water, and watched as Lisa and her mother moved down the row of concession booths.

  “You’re really good with kids.”

  Mitch had his thumbs hooked in his jeans. As it usually did whenever she saw the Wilson men, her breath hitched in her throat. The instant connection she felt with them was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. And, although they were insanely sexy, it wasn’t merely their physical attributes drawing her to them. They had an essence about them. A hero-like quality. Each of them was a man’s man in the truest sense of the word.

  “Thanks. It’s kind of a bribe, but it does the trick.”

  “You’ll make a great mom.” Wy strode up to them. “We were watching.”

  She was used to being praised for her work as a physician. But being praised for having the right stuff to become a mom was different. In a way, even better. “I guess you two are ready to get back to the ranch, right?”

  A shot rang out. Pain seared into her. She cried out, her cry still ringing in her ears as blackness took her.

  Chapter Seven

  Chey could hear voices. Strong, masculine, familiar voices. Voices that gave her a sense of safety and warmth.

  Is that Wy?

  Pain struck, wiping her question away. Pain that shoved the images of Mitch’s and Wy’s handsome faces away. The burn seared from a spot on her head, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Worse was the pounding of her headache.

  What had happened? She remembered Wy telling her she’d make a good mother. After that, the sound of a short pop, then the feeling of falling. She didn’t remember hitting the ground. Had someone caught her?

  “Are you sure she’s going to be okay?” Wy’s voice sounded strained.

  “I’m sure. If you want, you could run her into that new clinic in Cactus Falls, but I think it’s unnecessary. She got lucky. It was only a flesh wound.”

  “Not as lucky as if she hadn’t gotten shot at all, doc. She was out for a while.”

  Doc? Mitch calls me doc. Who’s Wy calling doc?

  “From what you told me, she wasn’t. But it did knock her for a loop.”

  “True enough, I guess. She was moaning and groaning all the way to the tent. I’m just glad you were there.”

  “She may have seemed out of it, but her vitals were stable and her eyes clear. I think it was more a matter of surprise than any real damage.”

  Now she remembered. After the sound of the gunshot, Mitch had swept her off her feet and carried her into a nearby tent. She’d struggled against him, telling him she was fine even as blood dribbled down her face. Soon, a kindly gentleman—Doc—had arrived and started examining her. She’d tried to tell everyone to leave her alone, but the kind man had insisted.

  “I want you to watch over her for the next twenty-four hours, but, like I said, I don’t think she’ll have a problem. If she does, you give me a call.”

  “Will do, doc.”

  Doc chuckled. “And don’t go hollering your head off unless she’s really dying. I’m an old man, but I moved like a bat out of hell getting out here. Not sure my ticker could handle another mad dash.”

  “Sorry. I guess I overreacted.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry.”

  Someone shot me? Oh, shit. Someone shot me.

  “Who the hell would shoot her?”

  A brief silence came before Wy finally answered. “We don’t know. We’re thinking it was probably an accident. Someone celebrating too much.”

  Could the doctor hear the uncertainty in his voice?

  She struggled to open her eyes, but didn’t get very far. Bright sunlight assaulted her, making her squeeze her eyes shut again. From the sounds of movement and the feeling of the bed underneath her, she was almost positive she was back at the ranch.

  She tried peeking and found the light easier to deal with. She was lying in her own bed, all right, and covered with the bedspread. Wy stood at the end of the bed along with an older gentleman. She moaned, drawing their attention.

  Wy sat on the edge of her bed. “Hey, baby. Good to see you’re awake. You gave us one hell of a scare.”

  With his help, she pulled into a sitting position, resting against several large pillows. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Other than a headache, I’m okay.”

  “Chey, this is Doc Varner. He’s the best doctor in these parts.”

  “I’m the only doctor in these parts. Unless you want to drive fifty miles.”

  She gave the doctor a wan smile. “Thank you for helping me.”

  She liked the older man’s chuckle. “You weren’t saying so earlier. But you know what they say. Doctors make the worst patients.”

  Had she put up a fuss? She couldn’t remember. “I’m sorry. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. Maybe while we’re here, we can share a beer and trade war stories. I bet an ER doctor like you has some doozies to tell.”

  He was being kind. Judging from his age, he was at or past retirement age. Probably the last thing he wanted to do was to talk to a young doctor like her. “I’d like to. Once I get back on my feet.”

  “You take it easy for a couple of days.” Doc Varner picked up an old-fashioned medical bag. “Let Mitch and Wy pamper you. It won’t do them any harm to cook your meals.”

  “Yes, sir.” At least the cooking argument was settled. “You heard him. You and Mitch get to do all the cooking. And the cleanup, too. Right, Dr. Varner?”

  “I’m thinking I just put myself in the middle of an argument. So, on that note, I’m going to say good-bye and get home to Mildred.” He pointed at her, his smile morphing into a stern expression. “Take care of yourself. And learn how to duck bullets.”

  “Thanks, doc.”

  She lifted a hand in good-bye as Dr. Varner left her bedroom. Wy caught it in midair and squeezed hard.

  “You scared the hell out of us.”

  She squeezed his hand back. “Sorry. It wasn’t my idea to get shot. So was the gunman caught? Was it George?”

  “No. I ran in the direction the shot came from, but I didn’t see anyone. At least no one out of the ordinary. In a town the size of Garner, it’s not hard to pick out a stranger.”

  “And Mitch? Where is he?” She was disappointed that he wasn’t by her side, too.

  “He’s downstairs in the office calling the San Antonio police and Al. He’ll give them the lowdown. Maybe they’ll have some new information to give us.”

  “I hope so.” She didn’t want to say it, but they couldn’t hide from the truth, either. “I guess Garner’s not any safer than San Antonio is. I might as well go back home.”

  He still had hold of her hand and tugged on it, making her look at him. “Not so. You’re safer here than you’d be there. At least on the ranch. But Mitch was right. We never should’ve let you go to the rodeo.”

  “So what now? Stay hidden inside like a criminal on house arrest? I can’t, Wy. I’ll go crazy.”

  “You might have to.” Mitch stood in the doorway, his large frame taking up most of the space. He strode over to her, taking a seat on the other side of her. “I couldn’t get hold of Al and the detective in charge of the case didn’t have any new information. I’m not sure he felt comfortable talking to me.”

  “You didn’t find out anything?” How long would she have to put up with being a target? “Did anyone check on George to see if he’s in Garner?”

  “Yeah, they did and he was at his home. There’s no way he could’ve made it here then back in time. It wasn’t George who shot you.”

  “So someone else is gunning for me?” She couldn’t get it straight in her head. “When did I become so
hated?”

  Mitch took hold of her other hand. “You’re not hated. Don’t go beating yourself up because some nutcase went off the deep end. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. And once I find out who shot at you, they’re going to wish they were already dead.”

  “Don’t do anything to get into trouble.”

  “Let us handle this.” He reached over and pressed a sweet kiss to her head. “Until then, you do like the doctor ordered. Stay in bed for the rest of the day and let us wait on you.”

  “Doc told you, huh?” asked Wy.

  “Yeah. I met him at the front door.” Mitch rolled his eyes, garnering a giggle from her. “And yes, I know that means we’ll be doing the cooking and the cleaning. For now, at least. But once you’re back on your feet, you’ll get your chance to make up for it.”

  “Even after all the trouble I’ve caused you, you still want me to stay?”

  Mitch shook his head and paced toward the door. “Like I said before, doc. For a brainiac, you sure can be dumb.”

  The pillow hit the doorframe instead of the back of his head. Mitch shot her a what-the-hell look and got out of the room.

  Wy laughed and retrieved the pillow from the floor. “You need to work on your aim, Chey. How about I get you a bite to eat?”

  “Sure.” Suddenly, she was ravenous. “What’s on the menu?”

  “Any damn thing you want.” He moved toward the door. “Within reason, of course. No fancy food served in this house.”

  “How about a turkey sandwich? With lettuce and tomatoes?”

  Like his cousin, he filled the space. Getting shot at was frightening, but having two sexy cowboys taking care of her made it a whole lot easier to take.

  “Sure thing, baby. One turkey sandwich on the way.”

  She still had a smile on her face as her gaze drifted from the doorway to the window. Her smile died soon enough.

  If George wasn’t the shooter, then who the hell was?

  * * * *

  “Hey, Bruce, how’s it going?” Mitch gazed out the window of his office. He loved looking at his land, but with danger hanging over Chey, even the sight of his home couldn’t cheer him up. Until they could make sure she was safe, they’d concentrate on little else.