Sheltered by the Cowboy

by Carla Cassidy

  “Jeez, you didn’t have to break my rib,” Zeke whined.

  “Are you making lots of money for charity?” Graham asked.

  “A dollar here, a dollar there. Every little bit helps,” she replied.

  Graham pulled out his wallet, withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her. “I always like to help a good cause.”

  “Thanks, bro,” she replied and then looked pointedly at Zeke. With obvious reluctance he took out his wallet and handed her a five.

  “I’ll take four ones in change,” he said.

  Graham rolled his eyes as Mandy counted out the dollar bills into Zeke’s awaiting hand.

  “I paid a dollar. Don’t I get a kiss?” Zeke asked and stepped closer.

  Ick, Mandy thought as she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Did you know your buddy Lloyd is a suspect in my father’s murder?” she asked.

  “Lloyd wouldn’t kill anyone, especially over a two-hundred-dollar debt,” Zeke scoffed. “Besides, on the night of your dad’s murder, Lloyd was with me and a couple of the other men having a barn party with pizza and beer.”

  She didn’t know whether she could believe a single word that fell out of Zeke’s mouth. She looked at her brother once again. “Do you want to meet me at the house tomorrow around six?”

  “Sure,” he agreed easily. “It would be nice if I could help you get everything done there before I have to head back home.”

  “I really appreciate the help, Graham, and I’ll see to it that you get your inheritance once the ranch sells.”

  “I’m not worried about that. Maybe this spring I’ll come back to visit and bring my fiancée with me. I can’t wait for the two of you to meet. I know you’re going to like each other.”

  “When are you planning on getting married?” Mandy asked.

  “We’ve been dating for the past five years. I already feel married, but she wants the ring and the ceremony, so we’re kind of planning a wedding sometime late in the summer.”

  “When that happens I hope I’m invited,” she said.

  Graham gave her another smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Come on, man. I’m freezing,” Zeke said and stomped his feet. “This reunion stuff might be heartwarming for the two of you, but it’s not doing anything to keep me warm.”

  “Mandy, I’ll see you tomorrow at the house,” Graham said, and then the two headed down the sidewalk.

  The streets were deserted and Mandy was more than eager to talk to Brody about that kiss. Even though it was a little bit early, she closed down the awning. She stepped into the small back area and turned off the heater and the lights, then locked the place down and hurried around the building to Brody’s truck.

  Thankfully he had the engine running and heat spewed from the vents. “I didn’t realize how cold I’d gotten until now.” She held her fingers up toward one of the vents.

  “What did your brother and Zeke have to say?” He pulled out of the parking space and onto Main Street.

  “Zeke told me Lloyd is innocent and has alibis, and my brother is planning on meeting us tomorrow night at the house,” she replied.

  “Those Humes men are thick as thieves and this wouldn’t be the first time they lied to alibi one of their own,” he replied.

  “I don’t believe anything any of them say. I hope you don’t mind going back to the house with us tomorrow night,” she said.

  “For the time being, your schedule is mine.”

  She wanted to talk about the kiss, but he appeared distant and unaccountably tense. His gaze remained solely focused on the road ahead and his fingers clenched and unclenched around the steering wheel.

  She glanced out the passenger window and then looked back at him. “I wonder if we’ll have a white Christmas.”

  “I’d be happy if it didn’t snow for the rest of the year, although we do need the moisture.”

  “I suppose snow makes your job at the ranch more difficult.”

  He merely nodded his head. Once again she stared out the passenger window and they drove the rest of the way to her place in silence.

  Was he sorry about the kiss? Had he found it horrible? Nobody had ever complained about how she kissed before, but that didn’t mean Brody had found it pleasurable.

  “Do you want me to turn on the television?” she asked once they were inside and settled in for the night.

  “Only if you want to watch it,” he replied.

  “Are you hungry? I’ve got some apple pie in the refrigerator.”

  He sat at the kitchen table. “That sounds good. Apple pie runs a close second to my favorite pie of all time.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked curiously.

  “Cass used to make an awesome pecan pie. I don’t know what her recipe was, but I’ve never tasted better.”

  “How about a cup of coffee to go with your second favorite kind of pie?” she asked.

  “Sounds great.”

  “Coming right up,” she said, pleased to have something to do.

  Things were awkward again between them. She knew why, and sooner rather than later they were going to talk about it. She cut him a large slice of the pie while a short pot of coffee dripped into the carafe. When the coffee was ready she served him and then sat opposite him at the table.

  She waited until he’d taken several bites. “Brody, we need to talk about it.”

  He looked up from the plate and set his fork down. “There’s nothing to talk about. It happened, it’s over and it’s not going to happen again.” His stoic gaze dared her to continue the conversation.

  She drew in a deep breath. As far as she was concerned there was lots to talk about and she wasn’t going to back down from having a conversation he obviously didn’t want to have.

  * * *

  Brody had known at some point or another she would bring up the kiss. Damn that kiss. It had rocked him all the way down to the tips of his cowboy boots. And that was why it couldn’t ever happen again. The very last thing he wanted was to talk it to death over a piece of apple pie. He just wanted to forget all about it.

  She was silent as he finished his pie and coffee, and he thought he was going to get his wish. He got up and carried his dishes to the sink, where he rinsed them and put them into the dishwasher.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to call it a night?” he asked as he turned back to face her.

  She got up from the table and walked over to the sofa. She sat and crossed her arms. “We aren’t calling it a night until we talk about the kiss.”

  She might be as friendly as a puppy, but at the moment she looked more like a stubborn junkyard pit bull. He bit back a sigh of frustration. “I don’t understand what there is to talk about. We kissed. It was no big deal.”

  Hurt leaped into her eyes. Although he hated to see it, hated even more being responsible for it, better she be hurt over a kiss than something worse.

  “You didn’t feel anything special when we kissed?” she asked.

  Brody was not a liar, but if there was ever an occasion to become one, this was it. “Special? Nah, it was pleasant enough but I wouldn’t say it was anything special.”

  “Pleasant,” she echoed flatly.

  He gave a curt nod. “And in any case, friends shouldn’t kiss.”

  She wasn’t satisfied with his answers. He could tell by the way she jumped up off the sofa and stalked over to her dresser. She grabbed her pajamas out of a drawer. “I’m taking a shower,” she said and then went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

  Crap, what did she want from him? She knew he didn’t want anyone in his life. Wasn’t it enough that he’d stepped up to be her friend? To be her protector?

  Did she really want him to tell her that the kiss had
been special? That it had sizzled a fire through his entire body? That it had left him wanting more...oh so much more? What good could come from that?

  He placed his gun on the coffee table and then got comfortable on the sofa. Maybe the best thing for him to do was pretend to be asleep when she got out of the bathroom.

  That was exactly what he did. She exited the bathroom and the lights turned out. The scent of her candles filled the room and after several minutes of complete silence, Brody fell asleep.

  He awakened just before dawn and remained on the sofa. Immediately his thoughts went back to the kiss and the conversation that had followed.

  Would she still be irritated with him this morning? It didn’t matter. In fact it would make this whole thing a little better if their relationship didn’t feel quite so easy.

  An hour later she awakened with a smile on her lips and apparently no hard feelings. They shared coffee and talked about the schedule for the day, and then he dropped her off at the café and headed on to the Holiday Ranch.

  Despite the cold he was looking forward to riding in the pasture and smelling cold country smells instead of the sweet, hot scent of her.

  But before he could get outside, he needed to check in with Cassie to make sure there was nothing pending that he needed to see to in his acting role as foreman.

  He parked in the shed designated for personal vehicles and then walked the distance to the big two-story house. It was late enough that he knew Dillon would have already left for his office in town.

  The Holiday Ranch was a large operation, specializing in grass-fed Angus beef. Pastures stretched as far as the eye could see. Outbuildings dotted the landscape, some big, some smaller. The largest building was the cowboy motel, that housed a dozen men in reasonable comfort.

  It was amazing to think about all the changes on the ranch over the past eight months, starting with the spring tornado that had killed big Cass Holiday.

  Her death had been mourned deeply by the men who had grown up under her tutelage. She’d been boss, mother and champion to them all. She’d left the ranch to her New York City niece, and for months the men had all worried that Cassie Peterson would sell the place off and return to the big city.

  The storm cleanup had resulted in the men tearing down a damaged shed, and it was then the skeletons of seven young men had been discovered.

  Ranch foreman Adam Benson had not only been responsible for all those deaths but had also killed a newly hired ranch hand. He had then set his eyes on killing Cassie.

  Luckily Dillon had stopped Adam with a bullet that had killed him, and Cassie had fallen in love with Bitterroot and ranch life and Dillon Bowie. The future of the ranch was no longer in question.

  The workforce at the ranch had changed, as well. Some of the cowboys had found love and moved on. New men had taken their places. For Brody, this was the only place he intended to live for the rest of his life. This was home in a way no other place had ever been.

  He knocked on the back door and Cassie greeted him, ushering him into the large, airy kitchen and offering him a cup of coffee. Minutes later they were seated at the table.

  “How’s Mandy?” she asked.

  “She’s holding up remarkably well under the circumstances.” He had to admire how Mandy had refused to allow the attack on her to change the way she was living her life. Of course, his presence made that easier for her, but he had a feeling she would have responded the same way even if he wasn’t in the equation.

  A shadow darkened Cassie’s bright blue eyes. “You do know Dillon takes each and every crime in this town personally.”

  “Trust me, I know,” Brody said drily. “It’s tough to be on Dillon’s suspect list.”

  “The problem is he has too many suspects in the case of George’s murder,” she replied.

  “And no suspects when it comes to Mandy’s attack.”

  Cassie nodded and tucked a strand of her shiny blond hair behind one ear. “You just make sure you keep Mandy safe. She seems like a real sweetheart.”

  “That’s my plan,” he said.

  For the next fifteen minutes or so they discussed ranch business. “Cassie, I don’t know how long this thing with Mandy is going to last. Maybe it would be best for you to pick another man as foreman,” he said.

  “Absolutely not,” she replied. “The men all respect you, and you have all the skills I want in a man who is overseeing things. Right now it isn’t necessary for you to be here every minute of every day. You take care of Mandy and we’ll talk later about the foreman job if it becomes an issue.”

  Knowing they were finished, he rose from the table, thanked her for the coffee and then stepped back out into the clear morning air.

  He headed straight for the stables. Inside the tack room Sawyer Quincy was cleaning saddles and Clay Madison sat on the end of a sawhorse. “Hey, Boss,” Clay greeted him. “Nice of you to make it into work so late in the morning,” he said with good-natured sarcasm.

  “Ha. At least when I’m here at work, I actually work,” Brody replied.

  Clay stood and patted Sawyer on the back. “I just thought he could use some supervision.” Sawyer snorted and rolled his eyes.

  “So, how goes it with you and Mandy?” Sawyer asked.

  “It goes,” Brody replied.

  “You two getting real close?” Clay asked with a knowing lift of one of his blond eyebrows.

  Brody scowled. “Not that way. She needs a friend right now and that’s all I’m being for her.”

  “That apartment where she lives looks pretty small,” Clay pressed.

  “And I’m sleeping on her sofa. I know it’s tough for you to realize that a man and a woman can share space without any sex being involved.”

  Clay laughed. “I see my reputation as a womanizer is slightly exaggerated.”

  “Don’t you have something to do besides supervise Sawyer and needle me?” Brody looked pointedly at the door.

  Clay laughed again. “Okay, guess I’ll go help Mac and Flint work on the broken mower.”

  “That man needs a good woman to tame him down,” Sawyer said once Clay had left.

  Brody laughed. “The problem is he has too many good women on the chain.”

  There was no question Clay had a reputation as the town’s Romeo, and the bewildering thing was that no woman he’d been involved with came away disliking him.

  “I’m going to head out to the pastures,” Brody said.

  Sawyer nodded. “Then I’ll see you at lunch.”

  The day passed far too quickly and before Brody knew it, it was time to head back to the café. He and Mandy had agreed that they would eat dinner there before heading out to meet Graham at the house for more packing.

  He arrived at the café with a curious mix of dread and anticipation. He hated that he looked forward to seeing Mandy, but the truth was he was eager to see that warm, wonderful smile of hers directed specifically at him.

  Twenty minutes later she sat in a booth opposite him as they waited for their orders. “Whew, it’s been a busy day and my feet are killing me,” she said.

  “Sorry about your feet,” he replied and looked out the window. “It’s unusual for us to not have snow on the ground this time of year, and with Christmas only ten days away I’m sure everyone is enjoying being out and about.”

  “What do you want for Christmas?” Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at him.

  You. The word leaped into his mind unbidden and a swift irritation filled him. “I don’t believe in getting or giving gifts,” he replied. “As far as I’m concerned, Christmas is just another day.”

  She frowned at him. “You sound just like my father. That’s what he always said. You’re just a Grinch. Didn’t you all celebrate the holiday when Cass was alive?”

  He definitely didn’t like
being compared to George. Before he could answer, their meal arrived. He’d ordered the roast beef special and she’d ordered a burger and fries.

  “Cass always joined us in the cowboy dining room for a special Christmas meal, but we never exchanged gifts,” he said once the waitress had left.

  “This year things are going to be different,” she said as she picked up a french fry and dragged it through a pool of ketchup. “Christmas Eve day I have to work in the morning, but I’m off at two. When I get home we’ll bake cookies and watch Christmas movies. Then on Christmas day I’ll invite Graham over for a big meal, we’ll listen to carols and it will be a wonderful Christmas. You’re going to enjoy it.”

  “You’re getting kind of bossy,” he replied with a small smile.

  She grinned. “A woman has to do what a woman has to do. Now, we’d better eat so we aren’t late to meet Graham.”

  A half hour later they were back in the truck. “I called Seth earlier today and told him he could pick up some of the furniture at six thirty tonight,” she said.

  “I’m sure he appreciates any donations you might give him.”

  “There are only a few personal items I want to keep, mostly things that belonged to my mother.”

  He shot her a quick glance. “You have good memories of her?”

  “A few. Mostly when I think of her I think of music and the scent of jasmine, and I feel warm and loved. What about you? Do you have happy memories of your mother?”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “My mother was nothing more than a shadow who drifted from place to place in the house, trying to not get hit.”

  Mandy released a small gasp. “Your father hit her?”

  “He didn’t just hit her. He beat us both. I think my mother died because it was the only way she knew to finally escape him.”

  “Oh, Brody.” She reached out and touched his shoulder. The warmth of that soft touch penetrated through his jacket and made its way straight to his heart.

  The conversation angered him. He wasn’t mad at her, but he hadn’t intended to share the information, and now his head was filled with old memories that stirred a familiar anger inside him.