Cowboy (SEAL Team Alpha Book 3)

by Zoe Dawson

  He sucked in a breath. “I had to,” he said.

  “You had to? You had to go in the navy without so much as a courtesy call to your mother? Then ditch our calls? You put yourself in danger every day. You never come home and half the time I have no idea if you’re even dead or alive.” Her voice crumpled. “My only boy. Do you know what that does to a mother?”

  “No. I don’t. I just have to explain something to you.”

  “Explain to me?” she snapped. “I’m so disappointed in you, Wes. I expected better out of you. We needed you.”

  “Why did he do it? He promised me we were going to handle everything together. Why?”

  Her face went white, and she clutched the robe tighter. “I don’t know, Wes. He was such a strong and noble man. I was blindsided. I couldn’t believe it. You are right, he was going to fight. He had plans, wonderful plans. I know he would have turned Sweetwater around. That ranch had been in our family for generations—there’s a responsibility that goes along with that kind of heritage. Your father loved that place, but more importantly, he loved us. Even to this day, I can’t believe he would have left us willingly.”

  Her words eased something that had been so tight and closed off for so long.

  “You want to know why I went into the navy? Why I didn’t say anything to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to be part of this family anymore. I’m tired of trying, Wes. I’m tired of your refusal to talk about this.” She turned toward the door and something ripped open inside him.

  His control broke against his mother’s pain and disillusionment, against her disappointment and condemnation. “I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it so I could breathe! If I hadn’t shut down, I was afraid I would have destroyed my own life with my disappointment at what I’d felt was Dad’s betrayal of all he’d stood for, making me an accessory, just an extension of Dad’s cowardice because I had tried to be like him in so many ways, his life lessons sullied and circumspect. How could I even trust my own instincts, deal with my own anguish, forgive Dad when I was so raw and disillusioned? The navy saved my life, Mom.”

  She stood there staring at him, her face pale. She started to tremble and the tears that had threatened slipped down her cheeks. “Then go back to the navy; go back to your family. You don’t live here anymore.”

  His sister’s gasp was loud in the night. “Mom, you don’t mean that. You’re just upset.”

  She didn’t say anything else, just slipped past her daughter and opened the door, closing it softly behind her.

  Erin turned to him. “She doesn’t mean it, Wes.”

  She took a step toward him, but he raised his hand, then leaned heavily against the porch post. He needed to release that truth to his mom, but now he wasn’t sure what he felt. Everything inside him was raw and chewed up. Ten years of bitterness couldn’t be overcome in the span of a few minutes.

  She didn’t heed his attempt to hold her off. She threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We have missed you so much and for the first time since you left, I finally feel we have you back.”

  Her face was wet, and he opened himself to his sister’s vulnerability, validated her feelings. “I’m sorry I hurt either one of you.”

  “This has been a long time coming,” she murmured. “Give her some time. You take some time. We have missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. More than you know. I love you both,” he whispered against her wet cheek. “I understand how she feels. I took what I needed, darlin’. I had to or I don’t think I would be standing here right now.”

  She nodded vigorously, then pulled away. “When you didn’t show up, she was so upset. She wanted to tell you about Dad’s nomination.” She smoothed down the lapels of his shirt. “The mayor was here that day. She wanted to ask you to be part of a hero’s parade to honor our town’s warriors and to raise money for veterans.” She wiped at her eyes. “Mom was embarrassed and angry.”

  “A hero’s parade. I don’t know…I don’t serve this country for parades and accolades, Erin.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” Her hand went to his shoulder, and her eyes widened. “She flicked the material away to reveal his shoulder holster. Her mouth dropped open, and she looked up at him with surprise on her face. “Why are you carrying a gun?”

  He looked toward the truck and found Kia and Tank standing at the curb. “I’m protecting Kia. She was attacked outside The Back Forty. That’s why I missed breakfast. I was at the ER with her and then took her home.”

  “Oh, geez, Wes. You can be such an idiot. Why didn’t you just say so?” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “But, you’re my brother, and I love you. Please don’t leave without seeing us. Mom will come around. She might not admit it now. But she has missed you, too. So much. It’s been so hard on her to lose everything.”

  The door opened and her rough and tumble husband leaned out. “Babe, you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, Brew.”

  He gave Cowboy an I’ll-kick-you-ass-if-you-hurt-my-wife look. He vastly approved of his brother-in-law. “We’re good, Brewer.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll get the kids ready for bed, babe.” His attention shifted to Cowboy. “Wes, man. Don’t be a stranger. And, fucking be careful out there.”

  “Brew,” she hissed. “Language.”

  He winced. “Oh, sorry. It gets away from me sometimes.” She gave him an indulgent look.

  “You got it,” Cowboy said as he closed the door, and his sister kissed his cheek again.

  “This was good for us, Wes. It feels like progress. Promise me you’ll come see us before you leave.”

  “I promise, darlin’.”

  She waved to Kia and Tank, and then went back into the house.

  Cowboy pushed off the post and went down the stairs. He shook his head at himself. A hero’s parade. It was now very clear to him that no one in this town ever thought either he or his dad had been any kind of coward. In fact, their compassion humbled him. Yeah, his perception sucked.

  Again, there was complete silence in the truck. Kia, reached for his hand, threaded her fingers through it and held on. The small show of comfort and support was so welcome. He realized, as soon as he saw them at the curb, they had heard everything that had been said. It was strange to have the most traumatic event in his life witnessed by one of his teammates and the woman he was just getting to know. But with his newfound sense of discovering and freeing himself from all the baggage tied to his hometown and his dad, he was just going to let it ride.

  He had no idea what Tank was thinking. He only knew a little bit about the big dog handler. His home life had been chaotic, he had two brothers and he’d been raised by a single mom. When they got back to the house, Cowboy did a perimeter check while Tank sat with Kia in his truck.

  As soon as they were inside, Kia went upstairs to change, and Tank let Echo out of his kennel and took both dogs for a walk. Alone, he sat in front of the fire and just stared into the flames.

  His regret at hurting Erin and his mom was deep, scored him with how much he’d cut them out of his life and hurt them. But, he was different now, enlightened. His misconceptions may have warped his insights, but how he’d felt had been real and genuine. They had been his feelings and he would own them.

  Tank came back in and closed the door. The dogs settled down in front of the fire. Tank went into the kitchen and after a few minutes Cowboy smelled the aroma of coffee.

  He rose and sat down at the counter. Tank slid over a cup of that delicious mocha.

  “Families have a way of fucking you up.”

  Cowboy looked up and nodded. “They do.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad, Wes.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  He took a sip of his own cup. “Yeah, but it still matters.” He lifted his fist and Cowboy bumped it. “I won’t mention this to anyone,” he said before he headed to the living roo
m. “Does your gal pal get ESPN?”

  Bonding over sports. How cliché. Cowboy smiled and went in and sat down next to him. When he went upstairs a couple of hours later, Kia was just closing her laptop.

  He wasn’t sure about how she wanted to handle the sleeping arrangements.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I want you to sleep with me.”

  He raised a brow. “You have no imagination, darlin’.”

  She smiled and opened her arms. “Oh, yeah, I do. Sleep is way overrated.”

  He stripped and slid in beside her warm, soft body, the scent of her a boon and they made slow, sweet, hot love. Every move she made showing him how much she loved being here with him. It was a balm to his heart, his ragged emotions, to his very soul. Afterward, she snuggled down with him and wrapped her arms around him as they fit so tightly together.

  “I went to the funeral. Do you want me to tell you about it?”

  Warmth flooded him. He closed his eyes, blinking away the stinging. She had a way of turning him inside out. The tightness in his throat made his jaw ache. “Yes, please,” he drawled as she started to tell him how beautiful it had been and that the church couldn’t hold everyone who wanted to attend. She went into detail about the flowers, the coffin, the service and the weather that day, leaving no detail out, even the information about a carved headstone he’d never seen.

  The heavy, silky weight of her hair tangled around his fingers, the loose fall like satin. She took a soft, tremulous breath, and he smoothed one hand across her hips and up her back, molding her tightly against him. This story and the soothing sound of her voice was all he needed right now.

  11

  Kia jerked up in bed at the knock. Wes already reaching for his gun. “Kia? There’s a guy down here with a load of hay. He needs for you to show him where to unload it.” Tank’s deep voice coming through the door had him relaxing.

  “Okay,” she called. “Tell him I’ll be right down.”

  “Roger that.”

  She got out of bed and threw on some clothes. Wes following suit. Downstairs at the door, she smiled. “Hello, Mr. Holbrook.”

  “Sorry about bein’ so early, Miz Silverbrook. But I’ve got a lot of deliveries today.”

  “It’s totally fine.” She signed his clipboard and pulled on her stable boots. “This way.” Both her bodyguards followed her out onto the porch.

  Mr. Holbrook was a hunched over little old man in his mid-sixties. When a shadow fell over him, he looked up and his brows rose. “Yer a big fella, aren’t you?”

  Kia laughed and swiped at his arm. “Stop that, Tank.”

  “Fits,” Mr. Holbrook said, not looking at all worried. He got into the rusty, faded blue truck stacked with bales and drove slowly behind Kia as she walked toward the barn.

  “You can unload here,” she indicated.

  He backed in, and Tank and Wes got to work unloading. When that was done, she waved at Mr. Holbrook as he drove off.

  “He’s a few days late.” She shaded her eyes and looked up. “We need to get these into the loft. Plenty to do today, including the reunion car wash at ten.”

  She showed them the pulley system and how they could stack the bales on the pallet and winch it up to unload it in the loft. But ducked into the tack room first to grab three sets of sturdy gloves.

  The morning heated and the T-shirts came off, leaving nothing but big, wide chests and shoulders bare and glistening with sweat. Wes didn’t have any tats, but Tank had XXVI inked across his right pectoral and several rose blossoms on his right biceps with Jelsena inked above the cluster. Kia wondered what it meant.

  Tank stayed on the pallet loading the hay then working the winch to come to a stop right at the open loft door. His balance was impressive as he handled eighty-pound bales with ease. Every time Wes bent over and grabbed a bale of hay, Kia wasn’t sure what she liked looking at more—that tight ass in those jeans or the ripple of his thick supple muscles beneath his skin.

  Of course, she was getting a double whammy of half-naked hot male bodies. Tank was breath-stealing, his chest flexing with muscle as he manhandled bale after bale to Wes.

  Once that task was done, it was to the horses. But Tank stood at the door, his T-shirt back in place, his arms folded over his chest. “You can’t really muck out stalls if you’re not in the stall,” she said.

  Tank took a step forward and then stopped when Quicksand arched his neck toward him.

  “He’s just curious to meet you.”

  “Stop being a wuss,” Wes said as he handed Tank a pitchfork.

  “Wes,” she said, smacking him as he went past. Grabbing a halter and slipping it over Twilight’s muzzle, he then snapped on a lead rope, guiding him out of the barn toward the corral.

  “That’s not fair for him to needle you about being afraid of horses. He’s lived with them for most of his life.”

  “I’m not scared.”

  Quicksand nickered at him, the sound loud in the confines of the barn. Tank jumped back, and she had to keep the laugh bubbling inside from emerging, but it was clear from his scowl he saw the twinkle in her eye.

  “I’m from East LA, ma’am. I’ve never even seen a horse.”

  “No, but you handle a lethal K9 like a boss.”

  He shrugged. “That’s different.”

  “Horses are just bigger with less pointy teeth. They really have no interest in hurting you.”

  He gave her a skeptical look telling her he wasn’t convinced.

  She approached him and took the pitch fork out of his hand and set it against the stall. Grabbing Quicksand’s halter, she handed it to him. “Just use all that alpha energy,” she said gently. “He’ll respond. They’re just like dogs. Be the boss, and they’ll follow you.”

  “Hoo-yah,” he said low under his breath. He reached out and Quicksand nudged his hand. “Wow, soft.” He rubbed the big buck’s nose then up his forehead. The gelding grunted and closed his eyes. A wide, beautiful grin spread across Tank’s face. He slipped on the halter and closed the buckle. She handed him the lead line, and he snapped it into place.

  “I’ll tell you something about handling horses if you tell me what this means.” She tapped his upper arm.

  “It’s my sister’s name. She died in a car accident when I was young.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. It was a long time ago.”

  “The roses?”

  “She loved them. Said they stink good.” He chuckled softly, but there were shadows in his eyes. “She was so cute.”

  She nodded. “I think I have the other one figured out.”

  “Oh, yeah. Give it a shot.”

  “XXVI is the Roman numeral for twenty-six and that’s the atomic number for iron.”

  “Aren’t you the Brainiac? That’s exactly right. What’s the tip on horsemanship?”

  “Always walk right at a horse’s shoulder. That way he can see you and you have better control for both leading him and avoiding his hooves.”

  Tank was a fast learner and he led him out.

  “Wuss,” Wes growled. But she saw the teasing lights in his eyes.

  “Screw you,” Tank intoned, and Wes laughed.

  After the stalls were cleaned and the horses brought back inside, Kia caught Wes leaning against the stall door, obviously taking a breather.

  She kicked his cowboy boot and sassed, “Stop slacking, McGraw and earn your keep.”

  He raised his gaze and found her watching him, and he gave her the once over, a look of heat in his eyes. Then he gave her a lopsided grin, keeping his voice low. “I think I’ve earned my keep, darlin.’”

  She shook her head, “There’s no time for lollygagging or any trips south.”

  His grin deepened.

  “I think I have a cattle prod around here somewhere.”

  Wes shook his head and chuckled. “You my trail boss now?”

  “Sure, you want a job? It’s got good fringe benefits.”

 
Wes managed a drowsy half smile. “I think I’d be better off wrangling wild broncs.”

  “That would be a whole helluva lot easier,” she agreed. She approached him. “I know where you’re ticklish.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words, and I think you would benefit from a toss into the sawdust bin.”

  “No, not that. It gets in my hair and it’s hard to get that stuff out.”

  He shook out his arms, fixing her with a predatory smirk. Whipping off his hat, he hooked it on the vacant bridle peg near Quicksand’s stall.

  “I could call in reinforcements. Tank?”

  “Sorry, lady, but we’re part of the brotherhood and teammates. I’d say she needs a lesson for all that sass. What’re you worried about? He’s a pussycat.”

  She started to laugh and back away. “Yeah, a big, lethal, brawny lion.” Wes rolled his shoulders, and if she wasn’t worried about all that sawdust, she would admire every solid inch of him. “Cut it out, Wes. You’ll spook the horses.”

  “I’m not going to spook the horses,” he said coming after her. “But I am going to dump you in the sawdust bin, and I’m going to enjoy every moment.”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  He grinned and started to circle her. “Yeah, I am.” God, how she hated those shavings getting on her clothes and in her hair. Good for horse bedding, bad for long, black hair.

  He focused those intense eyes on her. “Time for a sass lesson.”

  She put up her hand, trying a new tact. “Come on, Wes.” She pleaded laughingly. “Don’t. I hate it.”

  Realizing that he was backing her into a corner, she changed her tactics again, darting for the open door. His grin broadened. She had no intentions of fighting fair, not against a heavily-muscled SEAL with lightning quick reflexes.

  “Come on, Cowboy, can’t you subdue one feisty filly?”

  He threw Tank a challenging look and then focused back on her.