Sheltered by the Cowboy

by Carla Cassidy

  She told him about her dream to someday open a little restaurant of her own, and he talked about his life and work on the ranch. But she knew her attraction to him would go nowhere. He didn’t seem to be drawn to her in that way at all.

  They had just finished eating all their goodies when the conversation returned to her reputation.

  “You didn’t go to Bitterroot High School,” she said.

  “No, Cass decided it was best to homeschool all of us.”

  “You were lucky. It was a seething pool of gossip and drama, and that’s when my bad reputation started. I was dating Richard Herridge when we were both juniors. He was on the football team and real popular.”

  “He works on the Humes ranch now,” Brody said, his scowl back.

  “He’s just another creep like all the rest of the men who work for Humes,” she replied. The Holiday Ranch hands and the Humes men didn’t get along. The entire town knew about the ongoing feud between the neighboring ranches.

  “Anyway, we’d been dating for about a month and he started pressuring me to have sex with him. I finally said it wasn’t going to happen and I broke up with him. The next morning everyone at school was talking about how I had sex with him, and then he broke up with me because he’d gotten what he wanted. And that’s when it all began.”

  She couldn’t begin to speak of the depth of the anguish that had chased her through the last of her high school years. Girls scorned her and lots of the boys dated her and then lied about having sex with her.

  Even now there were women who were reluctant to have anything to do with her, but her dance card was always filled. She’d never figured out a way to change people’s perception of her, and she’d finally stopped trying long ago.

  “You haven’t exactly gone out of your way to try to change people’s view of you,” Brody said.

  “What’s the point? People expect provocative behavior from me and so that’s what I give them. I’m kind of like a cow that has been branded, and once that brand is done there’s no way to get rid of it.”

  She shrugged and then grabbed at the bedspread before it could slip downward. “Every town needs a bad girl and I guess I play that role in Bitterroot.”

  He gazed at her for a long moment and then released a deep sigh. “It’s getting late. I suggest we both get some sleep. Hopefully the tow trucks will be out here early in the morning.”

  “My clothes should be dry by now.” She got up from the bed, careful to keep the bedspread in place, and grabbed her clothing from the heater vent. “I’ll be right back.”

  It took her only minutes in the bathroom to redress in the now warm and dry Santa costume. When she returned to the room, together they put the bedspread back on. Then he turned out the light and they got into bed. She snuggled under the covers and he remained on top.

  Even in the dark she was acutely aware of him so close to her, close enough that she could swear she heard the steady beat of his heart. It was slightly thrilling even though she knew it shouldn’t be so.

  “Brody?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for being so nice to me tonight.”

  “Go to sleep, Mandy.”

  “Okay.” She turned over and tried not to think about how much she wished that he would pull her into his arms, hold her for just a little while against his broad chest until she drifted off to happy dreams.

  But if they walked out of here tomorrow morning and could be real friends, she’d be happy with that...because she suspected she’d have to be.

  * * *

  Something tickled at his nose. Something...fuzzy. No...furry. Brody opened his eyes to early morning light seeping in around the edges of the blue draperies at the window. Mandy’s fur collar was right under his nose and he was spooned around the back of her as if he belonged there.

  Move, a small inner voice urged him, but he ignored it. For just a brief moment he remained perfectly still, enjoying the sensation of a warm, shapely female in his arms. It was a rare moment for him as it had been a very long time since he’d been in a position to hold a woman.

  Amanda Wright was nothing like he had expected her to be. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she’d been far more likeable and with a soft vulnerability that had surprised him. She was more like a beautiful playful puppy dog than a femme fatale.

  Was her reputation overblown? Possibly. It was easy to be labeled in a small town, although she’d admitted she could be provocative in keeping with her role as the bad girl.

  It had been obvious she loved her father and longed for a better relationship with him. A tight ball of tension filled his chest as he thought of his own father.

  It had been Cass who had tried to make him understand that his father’s brutality and inability to love was his fault and not Brody’s. Still, Brody knew himself to be dangerous damaged goods, and that was why he would never marry or have children. He was a bad risk for any woman.

  A distant growl of a snowblower replaced the silence of the room. He quickly rolled away from Mandy and stood, grateful that she didn’t awaken.

  The last thing he wanted her to know was that in sleep he had cuddled with her. It had been bad enough last night when they’d talked and he’d tried so hard to keep his gaze away from her creamy naked shoulders and the spill of her long, dark, slightly wavy hair. He’d been on a slow burn for most of the night.

  He raked a hand through his hair and walked over to the window. Moving one of the heavy blue curtains aside just a bit, he peered out.

  The sun shone bright on the snow that had fallen the night before. There was less snow than he’d anticipated. Still, the ground was covered by about three to four inches of the white stuff.

  Fred Ferguson manned the snowblower and was in the process of clearing off the walkways. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before Larry Jerrod called to say his team was on their way to pull Mandy and him out of the ditch.

  In the meantime there was a coffee machine next to the sink and he definitely needed a jolt of caffeine to clear his head. Within minutes the scent of the fresh brew filled the room.

  He’d just poured himself a cup and sat in the spindly chair near the window when Mandy stirred. She stretched like a contented kitten and then offered him a sleepy smile. “We survived,” she said, her voice slightly husky.

  “We did,” he agreed. He stood and opened the curtains, hoping to get her out of the bed. She was far too much of a temptation in the bed, wearing that damned Santa costume that showcased her full breasts, small waist and long, shapely legs.

  He heard the rustle of the sheets, and when he turned back around she was up and at the sink, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Hell, she was a temptation out of bed, as well.

  She walked over and joined him at the window. “It looks a lot better out there this morning than it did last night.”

  “I’m hoping it won’t be long before we can get on our way.”

  “I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the ranch. Thank goodness today is my day off at the café so all I have to do is get home.” A tiny frown danced across her forehead. “I guess I should probably call my dad.”

  She set her cup down, went over to the nightstand and dug in her purse. She retrieved her cell phone and then sat on the edge of the bed and punched in numbers. She turned slightly to face away from him. “Dad, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m waiting for a tow. I slid into a ditch last night and had to stay at the motel.”

  Brody wasn’t trying to listen in, but although he couldn’t make out her father’s specific words, he certainly heard the loud, rough tone.

  “Yeah, Dad, I know it was stupid of me to wind up in a ditch and I’m sorry you had to make your own dinner last night. I’ll make it all up to you when I get home. I’ll fix you a terrific breakfast.”

 
Apparently her father hung up on her. She dropped her phone back into the depths of her purse and then turned and gave Brody a sheepish smile. “He isn’t much of a morning person.”

  Brody had a feeling George Wright wasn’t much of a noon or night person, either. From what little gossip he’d heard about George, the man was a drunk who had more enemies than he had friends.

  “What are you planning to make for breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  Her thick-lashed, caramel-colored eyes took on a sparkle and her lips curved into a smile. “I make this great peach French toast casserole with pecans and lots of cream and spices.”

  “Hmm, sounds good.”

  “Want to come over for breakfast?” she asked eagerly. “You know, just as a friend.”

  Brody cast his gaze back out the window. “I don’t think this morning would be a good time.”

  “Well, of course it wouldn’t,” she replied agreeably. “I can be such a dunce sometimes.”

  At that moment Brody’s phone rang. It was Larry telling him that he’d be at their cars within fifteen minutes. When the brief call ended they both abandoned their coffee cups for their coats and then stepped outside for the trek to their vehicles.

  “Whew, it’s still cold out here,” Mandy said and pulled her coat collar up closer around her neck.

  “Wait here,” Brody told her. “I’ll be right back.” Before they left here there was one thing he wanted to do. He approached Fred Ferguson, who cut the engine on the snowblower.

  “You taking off?” he asked.

  “We are,” Brody replied. “I just wanted to tell you that if I hear any gossip about Mandy and me spending the night together I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

  “You know I’m not a gossip,” Fred blustered, his eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses.

  Brody knew no such thing. In fact, Fred loved to indulge himself in juicy gossip. “I’m just giving you a heads-up.” As he returned to Mandy, the snowblower roared back to life. The last thing he wanted was for the night to further stain Mandy’s reputation.

  “Ready?” he asked Mandy when he reached her.

  “Ready,” she replied.

  The ground was still slippery and Mandy’s little boots were about as useful as a pig in a poker game. He took her by the arm and she leaned into him as they trudged forward.

  When they finally reached her car, he released his hold on her. She peered up at him. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

  “Right,” he agreed easily.

  “Thank you, Brody.”

  “For what?”

  Those winsome eyes of hers gazed at him intently. “Thank you for being nice to me and for being such a gentleman.”

  Thank God she hadn’t been privy to his lustful thoughts throughout their time together. “It was no problem,” he replied easily.

  Once again her eyes sparkled with liveliness. “Hey, maybe we should exchange phone numbers. It would be nice to be able to talk to each other occasionally.”

  He couldn’t very well say no to her, not with her lips curved into such a wide smile, not with her eyes gleaming so brightly. It took only a minute for them to put their numbers into each other’s cell phones, and then he encouraged her to get into her car and warm it up.

  He climbed into his truck and looked down at her number in his phone. Would he ever call her? It was doubtful. She was a temptation he definitely didn’t need in his life.

  He was just grateful their night together was over and he could get back to his solitary life, where he could work hard and sleep without dreams.

  Since Cass had died in the spring storm, there was really only one woman he now believed in, and he saw her about once a week. He trusted her with the secret that had haunted him for years, and she was the only woman he’d ever allow to have a place in his life.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey, handsome,” Mandy greeted Sawyer Quincy with a smile. The copper-haired cowboy was from the Holiday Ranch. “What are you doing in here for lunch all by yourself?”

  He swept off his brown cowboy hat and placed it on his lap. “I came in to pick up some supplies and got a hankering for some of Daisy’s chicken noodle soup,” he replied. “How are you doing, Mandy?”

  “Good, especially since some of the snow has finally melted. I’m getting off early today and I’m planning on spending the whole evening drifting from store to store and doing some Christmas shopping.”

  “That sounds like fun for you,” he replied.

  “How about a couple of thick slices of Daisy’s homemade bread with butter to go along with that soup?” she asked.

  “That sounds great...and a cup of coffee.”

  “Got it,” Mandy wrote on the order pad and then turned to head to the kitchen pass to turn in the ticket.

  It had been three days since the overnight snowstorm, and during those days the temperatures had crept above freezing and the sun had shone, making muddy soup out of the snow and ice.

  The café was busy. It was as if everyone in Bitterroot had decided it was time to get out of their house to have lunch.

  She placed the ticket, poured Sawyer his coffee and then turned in time to see Fred Ferguson being seated at one of her tables. He offered her a small scowl as she approached the table.

  “Afternoon, Fred,” she greeted him brightly. “What can I start you off with to drink?”

  “Before I order anything, I just want to say I didn’t appreciate your boyfriend threatening me the other morning.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Brody? He isn’t my boyfriend, and what did he threaten you about?”

  “He told me if he heard any idle gossip about you and him being in that room together for the night he’d consider me personally responsible. I don’t gossip about what goes on in my motel and I definitely don’t need a big, burly cowboy trying to intimidate me. Now, I’d like to start off with a cup of coffee and then I’ll take the special of the day.”

  “Got it,” Mandy replied. She left the table with her thoughts whirling. Why had Brody talked to Fred about keeping their night together a secret?

  Had he been trying to somehow protect her reputation? That was almost laughable. Maybe he’d been attempting to protect his own.

  This thought hurt more than a little bit, especially considering the fact that the night before she’d called him just to chat for a few minutes and they’d wound up talking for almost half an hour.

  It had been nice to have the sound of his deep voice still ringing in her head when she’d finally drifted off to sleep. She now shoved thoughts of Brody away as she hurried to deliver food and take more orders.

  She’d worked as a bank clerk until just after Cassie’s barn party. She suspected she’d been let go because she’d worn a red, white and blue sparkly bra to the party. It had been a costume party and she’d gone as a patriot superheroine. The president of the bank, Margery Martin, had not found it amusing.

  Mandy’s termination had wound up being a godsend. She belonged working with food. Right now she just delivered it up, but she was hoping she could work her way up to Daisy allowing her to be in the kitchen and then one day owning her own place.

  She put every tip in jelly jars under her bed and hoped eventually to have enough to start her own restaurant. What she envisioned wouldn’t compete with Daisy’s café. She’d like to open another café, but knew the competition with Daisy wouldn’t be good. She might decide to open a restaurant that offered more of a fine dining experience.

  A dream. That was all it was right now, along with her dream of eventually finding her prince. In the meantime there were orders to be taken and diners to be served.

  It was just after six when she went into the back room and took off her apron. She was looking forward to an
evening of wandering through the stores and looking at Christmas goodies.

  Since her phone call with Brody the night before, she’d wondered what might be good friend etiquette. Would it be too forward for her to buy him a little gift? And if she did, what on earth would it be?

  She pulled on her coat, left the back room and headed toward the café’s front door. “Don’t spend too much money on a Christmas gift for me,” Daisy said with amusement. “I’ve got everything I want except a husband and I’m not sure I want another one of those.”

  Mandy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “I’ll see you at eleven tomorrow.”

  “Enjoy your night,” Daisy called after her.

  Mandy left the café. It had been an exhausting day and her feet were killing her, but the cold night air and the sight of the cheery red and green lights filled her with a new burst of energy.

  It would be nice to have company while she shopped, but she was accustomed to being alone when she wasn’t dating anyone. At the moment she didn’t even feel like dating.

  At least she’d taken care of her father’s dinner. Last night she’d made chicken and dumplings and there had been enough leftovers for him to warm himself up a plate this evening.

  She had nothing on her mind as she headed for the mercantile store. She went inside, and a bell tinkled merrily overhead. The store smelled of spiced apple candles and evergreens and a variety of scents that spoke of the holiday. She drew in a deep breath. Christmas carols played softly from someplace overhead and Mandy was immersed in the holiday.

  The mercantile store always dedicated shelf space not only for Christmas decorations but also for all kinds of gift sets and items that never appeared any other time of year.

  She knew her father wouldn’t buy her anything. He even refused to have a tree put up in his house. But tonight Mandy intended to go home to her own apartment and put up and decorate the three-foot tabletop tree she’d gotten a couple of years ago.