Sheltered by the Cowboy

by Carla Cassidy

  At least he knew she’d be safe while working at the café. Nobody would dare attempt to harm her with so many people around her as witnesses.

  “Brody, I’m just a little bit scared.” Her soft voice held a faint appeal and he sensed she was looking for some reassurance from him.

  He had no assurance to give her. “Mandy, I want you to be a little scared. Right now we don’t know the motive or the identity of the person who came after you. I want you to be wary of every male in this town.”

  “Gee, thanks for making me feel better,” she replied drily.

  He flashed her a forced smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

  They reached the ranch and Brody parked his truck in front of the cowboy motel, a long building of small rooms where the cowboys lived. They got out of the truck and she followed him into his small room.

  “So, this is where you live,” she said as she looked around.

  Brody pulled a duffel bag from beneath the single bed. “I’ve lived here since I was fourteen,” he replied.

  She frowned. “You don’t have much to show you’ve been here for that long.”

  She was talking about the bare walls. There was nothing personal to indicate the room was his. He had no family photos, and no landscape painting that he’d ever seen spoke to him enough to buy and hang it.

  He didn’t collect fishing or hunting gear or beer steins. He just existed in this room when he wasn’t at work or in the cowboy dining room with the other men.

  It took him only minutes to pack enough items for the night. He could grab some more things tomorrow while she was working at the café.

  “Thank you for what you’re doing for me, Brody,” she said when they were almost back at her place.

  “I’ll admit we may be overreacting to what happened tonight. Maybe it really was somebody who read about your dad’s death and assumed nobody would be in the house. Maybe the rumor got out that your dad had a lot of cash stashed someplace, but I’m just not willing to take that chance right now.” He glanced over at her and caught her smiling at him, a beautiful smile lighted by the dashboard illumination and one that shot a streak of heat into his stomach.

  “I have to warn you, the apartment is kind of small,” she said as they got out of the truck in front of the detached garage.

  “You saw where I stay,” he replied. “We’ll manage just fine for a night or two.”

  It was just after ten o’clock as he followed her up the stairs to the living quarters. She unlocked the door, and he stepped into an explosion of color and scent that instantly increased the heat that whirled around inside him.

  It smelled of Mandy, that intoxicating scent of vanilla and sugar and warm, inviting woman. There was a black sofa with pink throw pillows, and the bed against one of the walls wore a black-and-pink polka-dot bedspread. The space was definitely feminine and he was instantly a bit ill at ease.

  “Make yourself at home,” she said and shrugged out of her coat. He took off his and sank down on the sofa. Thank God there was a sofa, because he didn’t know if he could stand a night of sleeping in bed with her as a “friend.”

  “Would you like anything to eat or drink?” she asked.

  “No thanks. I think the best thing we both can do is get a good night’s sleep.” He pointed to the door they’d entered. “Is that the only way in?”

  “Yes.”

  Brody took his gun out of his holster and set it on the coffee table. “Then it will be easy to make sure nobody gets inside. Do you mind giving me a pillow and a blanket? I’ll just bunk here on the sofa.” He sat once again.

  “You know you don’t have to sleep on the sofa.” She gestured toward the bed. “It’s a queen size, and it isn’t as if we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”

  “Yes, but I’ve never thought you might be in danger before. I intend to sleep with one eye open, and that makes me restless. It’s better if I’m on the sofa,” he replied. He hoped like hell that sounded like a reasonable excuse.

  “Okay. Would you like to use the bathroom first to get ready for bed or do you want me to?”

  “You go ahead,” he replied. He could use a few minutes to acclimate himself to this new space and to attempt to get the damnable heat of hungry desire for her out of his body.

  She grabbed some clothing from a drawer and then disappeared into what he assumed was the bathroom. The sound of the shower running pulled him up off the sofa again. In the kitchenette area there were two windows. He checked to make sure both of them were locked and then walked over to the window next to the bed and checked it as well.

  He double-checked the door to make sure it was locked up tight and then paused to look at several pictures that hung on the wall. The first one was a photo of Graham and Mandy with Graham’s arm slung around his younger sister and big smiles on their faces. Brody would guess Mandy to be about six and Graham about ten.

  The next photo was of George and his daughter and what looked like her high school graduation day. Mandy wore the traditional cap and gown and a strained smile. George looked like he’d rather have been anywhere but in the picture.

  The ring of Brody’s cell phone pulled him away from the photos. It was Dillon. “I just thought you’d want to know that Graham was at the Watering Hole when Mandy was attacked. Half a dozen people corroborated his presence there, and they were all locals who would have no reason to lie for him.”

  “Thanks, Dillon. Anyone else look likely as the attacker?”

  “I’ve got nothing else right now to report. And just to give you a heads-up, I think Graham is on his way over there to check on Mandy.” They ended the call. So, Graham hadn’t been the person who attacked Mandy. That was definitely good to know.

  Within minutes a knock fell on the door. Brody assumed it was Graham, but just to be safe he picked up his gun from the coffee table and carried it with him to the door.

  “Brody, is she all right?” Graham asked worriedly as Brody allowed him inside.

  “Physically she’s fine. Mentally she’s a bit shaken up.”

  “Thank God you’re here with her, and obviously on protection duty,” Graham replied with a nod at Brody’s gun.

  Before either of them could say anything more, Mandy came out of the bathroom. She was clad in a pair of red flannel pajamas with little snowmen. Her hair was damp and her cheeks were flushed.

  How in the hell could a woman in flannel look so damned sexy?

  Graham walked over and pulled his sister into a quick hug. Then the three of them sat at the small kitchen table. “Mandy, I’m so sorry. If I’d have known somebody was going to break into the house I would have never left you alone there.”

  Brody had to admit, the man looked genuinely upset. “So when you left, I guess you didn’t see anyone lurking around or a car parked close to the house?” he asked.

  Graham shook his head. “I told Dillon I didn’t see anyone or anything to make me believe something was amiss. Believe me, I wish I would have seen somebody.” He turned his gaze to Mandy. “Sis, from now on we work together in the house and you aren’t ever left alone there.”

  “I’ll make sure she isn’t left alone anywhere,” Brody replied. “I’m staying here with her for a few days.”

  “That’s a relief,” Graham replied with a nod. “And now, I know it’s late. I just needed to assure myself that you were really okay.”

  “I’m okay,” Mandy replied. “All’s well that ends well, right?” She smiled at both of the men.

  “Then I’ll just get out of here,” Graham replied. They all got up from their chairs. Once again he hugged Mandy. “I’m so glad that man didn’t get to you. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt you.”

  “That makes two of us. I have to admit I’ve never been so frightened in my whole life, but I’m going to b
e fine now,” she said.

  Moments later Graham was gone and Brody was in the bathroom, taking a quick shower. Had it been George’s murderer who had come into the house to chase Mandy with a knife? Had that been the same knife that had so brutally slashed her father’s throat?

  Despite the warmth of the shower, a chill tried to work its way through him. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to harm Mandy.

  Maybe it had been somebody who had heard that George had received a large sum of cash from Jimbo, and that same somebody had believed it was stashed someplace in the house. Perhaps Dillon had been right after all.

  But that scenario just didn’t ring true, not considering the man’s actions when he’d heard Mandy’s voice. Why hadn’t he just turned tail and run back into the night? The house had been empty during most of the days since the funeral. Why not break in then to search for any money?

  By the time he got out of the shower and dressed in a clean white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, equally troubling thoughts drifted through his head.

  In all the years he’d lived in Bitterroot, he’d never gotten involved in other people’s problems. He’d worked his job and defended the ranch against anyone who tried to do harm, but other than that he’d been a solitary man who shared very little of himself with anyone.

  What was it about Mandy Wright that had him doing so many things out of character? It was as if she expected him to be a better man than he was and somehow he was trying to live up to those unrealistic expectations.

  Most people gave him a wide berth, but not Mandy. He shoved these thoughts away. She was nothing more to him that a woman in trouble and he just happened to be in a position to help her. It was nothing more than that and nothing less.

  He left the bathroom and blinked in surprise. All the lights were off except a lamp next to Mandy’s bed and the glow of two lit candles on the same nightstand. The room now smelled of apples and cinnamon with an underlying fragrance he’d come to know as hers.

  “I hope you don’t mind the candles. I always light a couple before I go to sleep.”

  “I don’t mind,” he replied. The candles were short in the tall jar containers and hell yes, he minded the candles that painted her face in beautiful shadows and light. Hell yes, he minded the candles that made the room feel so much smaller and more intimate.

  He walked over to the sofa and found a bed pillow and a soft hot-pink blanket. Thank God none of the other cowboys would know he was sleeping under a pink blanket. He’d never hear the end of it. He placed his gun on the coffee table, unfolded the blanket and then stretched out.

  “All settled?” she asked.

  “I’m good,” he replied.

  She turned off the lamp, leaving only the candlelight radiance to create a small illumination. Too much illumination. From his vantage point he could see her snuggled beneath the covers. He closed his eyes.

  “Brody?”

  “Yeah?” He answered without opening his eyes.

  “Somehow, someway I’ll make this all up to you.”

  Visions instantly exploded in his head, erotic visions of the two of them making love. He jerked his head to halt them. “You don’t have to make anything up to me,” he said gruffly. “Now, let’s get some sleep.”

  “Okay. Good night, Brody.”

  “Good night,” he replied.

  Seconds ticked by and then minutes. When he finally opened his eyes once again she appeared to be sleeping. Candlelight danced across her features, highlighting her brows, her cheekbones and her full lips.

  He couldn’t be her friend. She was too much of a temptation and he couldn’t be friends with a woman he wanted. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone.

  He’d see her through this threat, and then he had to walk away from her and never look back.

  Chapter 6

  “You look chipper for a woman who was attacked last night,” Daisy said to Mandy when she entered the café the next morning. “Does that have anything to do with the cowboy who just dropped you off?” She raised one of her bright red penciled eyebrows.

  “No, it’s nothing like that.” Mandy felt her cheeks warm with color despite the protest. “Brody is just being a really good friend right now.”

  “Sounds like you need one. So, tell me exactly what happened last night,” Daisy replied. “Zeke Osmond was in earlier and said that you’d been attacked in your father’s house.”

  By the time Mandy finished telling Daisy about the events that had happened the night before, the morning rush had begun. Mandy hurried into the back room, grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist, then raced back to the dining room to begin her work for the day.

  She smiled and poured coffee and took and delivered orders, and all the while her thoughts were consumed with Brody. It had been so reassuring last night to fall asleep and know he was mere footsteps away from her. The only thing better would have been to have him in her bed.

  The idea of being held in his arms, of his sensual lips kissing hers filled her with a desire she’d never known before. What was it about him that stirred her so deeply?

  It wasn’t just a sexual thing. She wanted to know everything about him...what he thought and what he dreamed about and why he had chosen to go through life alone. She had a feeling he had secrets, and she wished he’d share them with her.

  Thoughts of Brody fled her mind as she approached the booth where three young women sat. Dana Witherspoon, Vanessa Hightower and Miranda Silver had all gone to high school with Mandy.

  They had all been cheerleaders, the golden girls everyone wanted to be. They had been some of the girls who had whispered and snickered about Mandy behind her back, although in recent years two of them had mellowed out. Dana still remained more than a bit of a smug twit.

  “Good morning, ladies,” Mandy said briskly as she pulled out her order pad.

  Miranda smiled, although the gesture didn’t quite reach her eyes. Mandy had heard she’d just gone through a painful divorce. Mandy also knew Miranda and her husband had two children. “Good morning, Mandy,” she replied.

  “We all want to start out with coffee,” Dana said imperiously. “And please make sure it’s fresh.”

  “Coming right up,” Mandy replied and hurried to retrieve one of the full coffeepots from the warmers.

  “We heard about what happened to you last night,” Vanessa said when Mandy returned with the coffee. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Of course we’re glad you’re all right. Otherwise who would be pouring our coffee this morning?” Dana said and then tittered as if it were an amusing joke. Miranda stared down at her menu and Vanessa stared at the wall someplace over Mandy’s shoulder. The awkward moment passed as Mandy took their food orders.

  She’d just finished serving the three women their meals when Jimbo King and two of his lackeys walked in and took a table in her section.

  There was no way Jimbo had been the man at her father’s home the night before. The big bald man had to weigh at least three hundred pounds. However, either of the two men with him could have been the person who had raised the knife and chased her into the bedroom.

  Should she mention the money her father owed him? Her father’s bank account had a whopping hundred and twenty dollars in it at the time of his death. Mandy certainly didn’t have the money to pay the big man back, and in any case it wasn’t her debt to pay. Still, she was honorable enough to see to it that he got his money when the ranch sold and the estate was fully settled.

  “Morning, gentlemen. What can I start you off with today?” she asked with a forced brightness to her tone.

  “Coffee and a glass of orange juice for me,” Jimbo said.

  “That sounds good to me,” Sean Watters replied as he shoved a strand of his greasy brown hair off his forehead.

  �
��Me, too,” Donny Pruitt added.

  Mandy scurried away to get their drinks, grateful the subject of the money her father owed hadn’t come up. It didn’t come up until she’d served their meals and had returned to refill their coffee. As she reached for Jimbo’s cup, his big, meaty hand snaked around her wrist.

  “We need to talk, girly.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held tight. “Jimbo, I know my father borrowed money from you and I’ll see you get it back, but it’s going to take some time,” she said.

  He let go of her. “Time is money and interest is accruing.”

  “Can’t you forget about interest? I mean, Dad is dead.”

  “Business is business. I want my money.”

  “Try to remember that I’m not the one who owes that money and I have no real responsibility to pay it back.” Although her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, she faced him boldly. “Maybe somebody on your payroll tried to get that cash back last night by breaking into the house?”

  Jimbo’s dark gaze held hers, unreadable and slightly menacing. “Breaking into the house? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, how about that coffee?”

  She didn’t breathe easily again until Jimbo and his two thugs had left the building. By then it was time for her break, and she carried a cup of coffee into the back room and sank down on one of the chairs at the four-top table.

  “Are you okay?” Daisy walked into the room and sank down in a chair opposite Mandy.

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “I noticed you got a little quiet on the floor.”

  Mandy looked at her boss in surprise. “I didn’t think it showed.” She took a sip of her coffee and then sighed. “It feels like my dad died owing money to everyone in town, including Jimbo.”

  Daisy’s eyes opened wider. “Did Jimbo give you a hard time when he was here?”

  Mandy rubbed her wrist where he had grabbed it. “He just reminded me that a debt was owed.”