Cowboy Tough

by Joanne Kennedy

  Then again, maybe the girl’s bereavement would remind Viv that she was lucky to have two parents—even if they weren’t together.

  In any case, he knew from experience he didn’t have a choice about Viv’s friends. And he shouldn’t worry. Somehow, despite the tumultuous ordeal of the divorce, his daughter had grown into a young woman who knew who she was and wasn’t about to cave to any kind of peer pressure.

  Mack was proud of her. If only he could see more of her, he’d be fine with the way things had turned out. Let Alex have the house and everything in it; he just wanted a good relationship with his daughter.

  He climbed the stairs quietly, pausing halfway to listen to the high piping voices of the girls. He wasn’t eavesdropping—not really. He just wanted to hear how they were getting along. And see if they were talking about Emilio.

  “No! Eww—we’re not doing that.”

  That was Dora. Now Viv joined in.

  “Just go back to your room. We’re not into that stuff.”

  And then a male voice.

  “Oh, come on, girls. It’ll be fun.”

  Mack stood motionless for half a second, dizzied by the rage that leaped up like a flame in his chest. Trevor. Trevor was in there with the girls, trying to get them to… to do something.

  And Mack was going to stop it.

  Chapter 24

  As the rest of the students stumbled off to the bunkhouse, Cat had ducked into the kitchen and found Maddie drinking a cup of tea at the kitchen table. The tall, rawboned ranch hand sat across from her, sitting so stiffly Cat suspected he wasn’t normally allowed on the furniture. He wasn’t drinking tea or anything else; just sitting, with his hands in his lap and his heels resting on the chair rungs. He’d probably be more comfortable if someone gave him a set of reins to hold.

  The kitchen was spotless, the counters gleaming, all signs of the enormous dinner absorbed into a haze of spray cleaner. Across the room, the dishwasher churned rhythmically.

  “You need any help?” Cat asked.

  “We’re fine.” Madeleine had her stocking feet propped up on the chair across from her, but she swung them to the floor and shoved the chair a couple inches toward Cat. “But come set a spell.”

  Cat thought maybe she should join her students and rest up for the next day, but Maddie’s orders were hard to disobey. Besides, she kind of liked the woman.

  “How are you doing with that little niece of yours?” Maddie sat back, folding her hands across her stomach.

  “Oh, fine.” Cat faked a smile, wondering if Mack had told his mother about her personal problems. She hadn’t meant for any of that to be shared. “Why?”

  “Just wondered. Noticed she acts up a little. Seems troubled.”

  Cat’s temper flared. “She’s fine.”

  Maddie shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Cat struggled to smooth herself down. There was no reason to go on the defensive. This woman knew children. She was a mother. A grandmother. And it hardly took a genius to figure out Dora had issues.

  “She lost her mother. She’s been having a hard time.” Cat sighed. “I thought bringing her here would help.”

  “Well, maybe it will. She and Viv are getting on like a house on fire.”

  “They do seem to get along.” Cat glanced at the ranch hand, who was watching the conversation like a tennis match. The man never seemed to speak, so why should she care if he listened? “Mack and his daughter seem to get along too.”

  Maddie sat up, suddenly animated. “Oh, yeah. Viv’s a feisty one and she doesn’t listen worth a damn, but her dad loves her and she loves him right back. You got any kids?”

  “No.”

  Cat had always thought she’d have kids, but time was slipping away, even though she barely felt like a grown-up herself these days. Her life felt unsettled, as if she hadn’t found her purpose yet. Maybe that was why she was so desperate to help Dora. With no kids of her own, she’d channeled all her maternal instinct to her niece.

  “Don’t you want to have a family?” Madeleine asked.

  This was getting awfully personal. Cat glanced at the ranch hand again, but he was staring at the wall across from them, a little slack-jawed. Maybe the guy was slow or something. In any case, he wasn’t likely to spread gossip.

  Cat shook her head. “I’ve been mostly focused on my career.”

  “Thought this was your first trip.”

  “It is. The first trip of my second career. The first career’s still going, but it’s on life support.”

  “So how long are you going to focus on this one?” Maddie cupped her palms around her mug. “The clock’s ticking, you know.”

  Cat didn’t know why she felt like laughing instead of smacking the woman. “It’s not really just about my career. It’s my art I’ve been focused on. I doubt that will ever change.”

  She dug through her brain for the thoughts about dedication and creativity that had seemed so important a week ago. They must have moved to the bottom of the pile, underneath her worries about Dora, her new career, and her ridiculously randy feelings for a certain cowboy.

  “Artists have to respect the creative urge,” she said. “It can take some time to find your inspiration—your Starry Night. But you can’t give up the quest.”

  “You got a starry night right outside.” Maddie’s dimples creased as she smiled. “Ask my son to show it to you sometime.”

  Cat smiled. “I don’t mean that literally. I mean…” She paused. “Do you know Van Gogh’s painting? Starry Night?”

  “That the windy one with the trees?” the ranch hand asked.

  Cat tried not to act surprised. “That’s the one. Well, that painting has come to define Van Gogh’s creative genius. I think every artist has to find their Starry Night—something that inspires them like nothing else. That’s why I’m so excited to join Art Treks. It’ll give me a chance to see the world, see if my Starry Night is out there somewhere.”

  She blushed. All of a sudden, the sentiment that had carried her so far sounded like pseudo-intellectual nonsense. It was a direct quote from Ames Whitaker—her pseudo-boyfriend.

  There wasn’t much left in her life that was real. Just Dora, and…

  And Mack. Last night had been real. But she could hardly hinge her reality on a one-time fling with a cowboy.

  Unless she made it a two-time fling.

  “Maybe your Starry Night’s right here.” Madeleine settled back, sipping her tea. The dimples flickered back to life as she set down her cup.

  “I don’t think so. I mean, this place is beautiful. The lake, the canyon—well, I know the students found it really inspiring. But I haven’t caught that spark yet.”

  “Maybe you’re looking for it wrong,” Madeleine said. “Maybe what you need isn’t a place. Maybe it’s a person.”

  Cat heard footsteps on the stairs—loud, male footsteps. Mack was going up to see his daughter. She glanced at the door.

  “Go on up,” Maddie said. “See what they’re up to.”

  Cat shoved her chair back from the table just as a flurry of footsteps and a deep, male shout erupted from upstairs. There were a couple loud bangs, as if furniture had fallen over.

  Then the girls started to scream.

  Chapter 25

  Cat dashed up the stairs and into the lighted bedroom to see Trevor lying on the floor like a broken doll, his face streaked with blood. For a second, she wondered if he was even still alive. Mack was astride the man’s body on his knees, pummeling him with one fist, then the other. Both girls hung on his arms, struggling to haul him off the apparently unconscious man.

  “Dad.” Viv tugged at his arm, then tugged again. “Dad. Stop.”

  Judging from the look in his eyes, Mack was lost in some bloody cloud of homicidal madness. But as he blinked at Viv, Cat felt his power ebb a little. There was
still a steady, throbbing energy there, like a powerful engine idling at a stoplight, but the wild light in his eyes started to fade.

  “Stop,” Viv said. “It’s all right.” She let out something between a laugh and a sob. “Don’t kill him, okay?”

  “He—I heard him.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.” Viv put her arm around him and patted his back. Dora let go and backed away, her eyes wide.

  Cat knelt beside Trevor and took his hand, fumbling for a pulse. His eyes were staring at the ceiling, and for a moment she thought he was dead. But then he blinked. Cat dropped his hand and he reached up to tentatively touch his face, wincing as he pressed the bruises blooming on his forehead, cheekbone, and chin.

  “Trevor, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. Let me get something to clean you up.” She looked up at Mack, suddenly realizing all over again how big the man was, and how strong.

  And how angry. He was still staring at Trevor, his chest heaving. It was obvious he could barely hold himself back from attacking the man again.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Cat was almost crying. She had no idea what was going on, but she did know this trip was a disaster. So far she’d slept with their guide and allowed that same guide to beat up a client—twice. The place was a wreck and their host was homicidal.

  She was doomed.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me.” Mack’s voice was low and menacing. Viv tightened her grip on his arm. “It’s that little pervert. I heard him trying to get the girls to…” He sucked in a deep breath and Cat saw that his eyes were glistening. “I can’t even say it.”

  Viv shook her head. Incredibly, it looked like she was suppressing a laugh. “Oh, no. Dad, what did you hear?”

  Mack looked agonized. “Don’t cover for him, Viv. I heard the whole thing.”

  “Tell me what you heard.” The teenager sounded like the parent now, coaxing a story out.

  “You told him to leave,” Mack said. “You told him ‘you weren’t into that stuff.’ And he was trying to talk you into it. He said it would be ‘fun.’ It makes me sick.”

  “Dad, he wanted to have a pillow fight,” Viv said. “I mean, it’s kind of weird, but it’s not what you thought. And we said no. What do you think we are, stupid?”

  “Pillow fight?” Mack looked down at the pillow, which was lying on the floor with feathers spewing from the seam.

  A little of the stuffing seemed to go out of him, too.

  “Yes, a pillow fight,” Viv said. “And we’re not helpless. We told him no. If he hadn’t left, I’d have kicked his ass.”

  That got a near-smile out of Mack. “You would have, wouldn’t you?”

  Viv nodded sharply. “Definitely.”

  Trevor was sitting up now, leaning against the side of the bed. Cat had found a box of Kleenex on the nightstand and was dabbing at the wounds on his face.

  “Okay.” Mack nodded reluctantly. “I might have overreacted.”

  Trevor shot him a glare. “Overreacted? Is that all you have to say?” He struggled to his feet and staggered toward the door. “You can say it to the police, that’s who you can say it to.”

  “Trevor, wait.” Cat followed him. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

  “I can clean up myself,” he said. “At the police station.”

  “Just wait. I’m sure Mack will apologize, and…”

  “Think again,” Mack grumbled. “Pillow fight, my ass. Guy’s a pervert.”

  Cat had to admit the whole scene was disturbing. But Trevor apparently hadn’t laid a hand on either girl, and she had a feeling Mack was in trouble. Maines wasn’t the type to let things go.

  “I don’t want an apology,” Trevor said. Even with his bloodied face, he was trying to retain some dignity. “I want you in jail.” He pointed toward Mack. “And I want you fired.” That was for Cat. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

  “Just wait,” Cat said, glancing from one man to the other. She could feel the whole venture whirling away like the clouds in Van Gogh’s painting, spinning out of control.

  “I won’t wait,” Trevor said. “And if you think I’m going to spend one more hour at this fleabag redneck ranch, with this arrogant homicidal cowboy, you’re wrong. I’ll be contacting the police as soon as I get to town.” He turned to Cat. “And I’ll be contacting your company as well.”

  ***

  Mack made a valiant effort to calm himself as Trevor stormed down the stairs. Moments later, an engine fired up outside and a vehicle, presumably the Lexus SUV, took off in a spray of gravel.

  “Good riddance,” he muttered.

  Things were awfully quiet now that the fight was over. He looked up to see Cat shooting him a hard glare. Viv and Dora seemed a little shell-shocked. At some silent adolescent signal, they leaped up in unison and hightailed it out of the room, leaving him alone with Cat.

  The silence continued. Obviously, she expected him to say something.

  “You wouldn’t have wanted him to stay, would you? After he tried to coerce a couple of teenaged girls into a little bedtime pillow fight?”

  “I didn’t like the guy either,” Cat said. “And the pillow fight thing is kind of creepy. But…”

  “Kind of creepy?” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. “After the stunt he pulled with that painting? Dora could have seen that.”

  “It was just a nude.”

  “It was you.”

  “It had my face, that’s all. It was an imitation of a famous painting, Mack. Just a joke. I was sitting in the same pose as Manet’s Olympia.”

  He couldn’t believe she was defending the guy. “Cat, he was picturing you. Thinking of—you. Naked.”

  He hoped she couldn’t tell he was thinking about the same thing. He’d been thinking about it all day. He hadn’t had much to do while the students painted, so he’d fallen into an X-rated reverie while he’d been sitting there watching her.

  How could he help it? She’d been wearing a man’s shirt again—a white dress shirt. It was splattered with paint and hung loosely on her body. It was hardly a sexually provocative outfit, but when a woman wore a man’s shirt, it was usually something she’d scooped off the bed after sex. He’d wished it was his shirt, scooped off of his bed.

  “Okay,” she said. “I know the guy’s weird. And I’m even glad he’s gone. But that wasn’t the way to handle it.”

  “He was in here with our daughters, Cat. Well, my daughter. Dora might just be your niece, but it’s your job to protect her, just like I protect Viv. You should be glad I took care of it.”

  Her expression grew even stormier. “I do protect her. I don’t need you to take care of anything.”

  “What would you have done?” he asked.

  “I’d have asked him to leave.”

  “I saved you the trouble.”

  “I would have asked him to leave the room, not the ranch. And then I would have kept the girls away from him.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and the two of them traded glares in an Olympic-level stare-down. “So you care more about your career than the girls’ safety.”

  “No. I just don’t think the girls were in real danger.”

  “I think you’re wrong. The guy has a problem.”

  “Well, where I’m from, we don’t solve problems with our fists.” She flushed. Maybe she realized she sounded like a prissy old preschool teacher.

  “Where I’m from we don’t have many other options. You know how long it’s going to take him to find a cop?”

  She shook her head.

  “We don’t have a police station on every corner around here. We solve our own problems. And we protect our own children.”

  He put a hand to his head. His fear for his daughter, his rage at Trevor, his worries about the ranch—it was all feeding into one hell of a thump
er. And the way Cat was looking at him wasn’t helping. She looked utterly repulsed.

  He slouched down on the side of the bed. “I’m just telling you how things are around here, that’s all.”

  “And I’m telling you there was a better way to handle it.” She spun on her toes and stalked out of the room.

  A moment later he rose from the bed and looked out the window to see her crossing the yard toward the Heifer House. Her stride was long and her fists were clenched at her sides. This was a very different woman from the one that had melted into him the night before.

  Well, that would never happen again. He’d felt such a kinship between them, as if they were the same at heart despite their different lives. But he’d been wrong.

  Viv was all that mattered to him. Not women, not work, not even the ranch. He’d thought Cat felt the same way about Dora. He’d started to respect her, even admire her for her devotion to her niece. But she had her priorities screwed up. That career of hers mattered more than anything, even the girls’ safety.

  He’d just turned from the window when there was a tap on his door.

  “Dad?” Viv slipped into the room. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “No, it’s nothing bad.” She laughed, and for a moment he was intensely grateful to have a happy, well-adjusted child.

  “It’s just… I want to trade places with Dora,” she said.

  He looked at her, uncomprehending. She wanted to be a screwed-up child who hated everyone? She wanted her mother dead? What the hell was she talking about?

  “She’s really unhappy, Dad.”

  “I know. But we can’t do much about that, honey. She’s had a terrible loss, and it’s going to take her time to get over it.”

  “But we can do something about it.” She danced from one foot to the other, clearly excited.

  “I take it you have a plan,” he said, smiling. Viv had always been tough on the outside and sweetly tender on the inside.