Cowboy Tough

by Joanne Kennedy

“Oh, that’s okay.” Viv’s pretty face lit up in a smile. “Dora said I could use hers.”

  “But then what’s she going to do?”

  “She’ll help my dad with the horses.” Viv’s grin widened. “We’re trading places! Isn’t that perfect? I mean, she loves horses and I love to paint, and we were each stuck doing the wrong job. This way we’ll both have fun and my dad’ll still have help.”

  Cat drew back. Dora wasn’t going to paint?

  She wasn’t surprised at that decision. What surprised her was the sharp sense of loss she felt when she thought of the two of them working apart, rather than working together on their paintings. She wanted to help Dora. Teach her something. It wasn’t about the painting; it was the togetherness she wanted.

  “You’d better talk to your dad,” she told Viv. Mack knew how she felt. He’d bail her out on this.

  “Oh, he says it’s okay.” The girl danced in place. “He says I’m a whiner anyway.” She grinned, as if her father had said she was beautiful or smart. “He seemed pretty happy about trading me for Dora. We decided last night.”

  “You and your dad cooked this up last night?” Cat narrowed her eyes. When would they have talked about it last night? He hadn’t said anything to her about it when they were together.

  “Well, Dora and I cooked it up. But Dad said okay.”

  “When last night?”

  “After dinner.”

  The stab of loss was joined by an equally sharp jab of betrayal. Mack knew what this trip with Dora meant to her. How could he so carelessly take away the one bond she had with the girl, and then conveniently forget to mention it when they were together? It wasn’t like they hadn’t had time.

  She shot him a dirty look but recovered when she realized Viv was still standing in front of her with a pleading expression on her face.

  “Okay,” she said. “Fine. But if Dora changes her mind, we’ll find a way for both of you to paint.” She smiled as a thought occurred to her. “You two are getting to be such good friends, you might want her to help you. Then your dad’ll just have to handle everything on his own.” She slid her eyes toward Mack, who seemed absorbed in the horses. She wondered if he was faking it, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sure he can manage. He’s such a tough, self-sufficient guy.”

  He was going to be self-sufficient now, that was for sure. He’d messed with her relationship with her niece, then conveniently forgotten about it when he got a chance to get happy with her.

  She shot him a glare and he turned as if he’d felt it burning into his back. Once again his eyes met hers, but this time there was no smile, no secret—just guilt. He knew damn well what he’d done.

  She felt the bond between them snap, sharply as a broken stick, and just like that the day lost its shine.

  Chapter 29

  Mack followed the riders as they headed into the home stretch. They were strung out in single file, tipping and sagging in the saddle like a row of crooked fence posts. The day at the canyon had been long, and the route was the rockiest one on the ranch.

  The horses lightened their step as they approached the corral, no doubt looking forward to burying their muzzles in the watering tank. Everybody was beat, including him, but the day had gone surprisingly well despite the tension between him and Cat.

  She had a right to be angry. He should have talked to her before he approved the plan. And once he’d approved it, he probably should have told her about it before he’d—whatever they’d done last night. But he’d honestly forgotten. She’d looked so beautiful, and he’d felt—bonded to her somehow. He still did, in spite of her stony silence. It was impossible to explain, even to himself.

  He’d worked all day to find a peace offering, knowing the one thing she wanted was a key to Dora’s thoughts. He was pretty sure he’d succeeded in easing open at least a small break in the barrier the girl so resolutely kept closed. There were no easy answers, but at least they’d have an idea of where to start.

  They. He needed to stop thinking that way. A week ago, he’d wondered if he was capable of real love for a woman. Now he knew that not only could he fall in love, but he could fall so hard his heart would shatter when this woman walked away.

  A picture of Cat lying naked in his bed crossed his mind—her slim hips, the small but perfect breasts, the hair tumbled on the pillow. She might walk away, but that memory would stay with him for a lifetime.

  Which meant he had no regrets.

  “You going to help me with this or just stand there mooning over my aunt?” Dora asked. She was brushing Spanky, holding out his tail to one side as she detangled it.

  “I’m helping.”

  “Go see her if you want.” She combed through the tail with her fingers one last time and led the horse to his stall. “I can take care of the grooming.”

  “Nope. We’re a team.”

  She grinned, and they worked in quiet unison for a while, grooming the horses and getting them fed and stabled. She was a good little horsewoman. He’d have to tell Cat how well she’d done.

  She’d been cheerful, too. He was willing to bet her grief hadn’t touched her all afternoon. Horses were good therapy, and the landscape here was healing. He knew that from experience.

  “You can go relax a while, hon,” he said as he shut the last stall. The horses were settled for the night, chewing their evening ration. He just needed to coil some rope and stow some saddles and he’d be done, too.

  “Aunt Cat’s probably already at the campfire,” Dora said. “I could finish up.”

  “No, you go,” he said. “I doubt she’s speaking to me. She wasn’t too happy about our arrangement.”

  Dora’s brow creased in concern. “Viv said she was okay with it.”

  “Viv sees what she wants to see,” he said. “Optimism runs in the family.”

  “Must be nice.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and strolled off. It seemed like the day had transformed her. She’d changed from a sulky city girl to a bona fide cowgirl somewhere on the trail. As far as he was concerned, it was a change for the better.

  “Come talk to her soon, though,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ve got to make up before the barn dance. I so want to see you make her do the two-step.”

  He groaned. Tomorrow was mostly a day off for him. The students would be evaluating and reviewing the work they’d done so far, and then splitting up to paint scenes around the ranch—the barn, the horses, the ranch house itself.

  He was looking forward to a day immersed in the real business of ranching—checking the herd in the north pasture, riding fence, taking care of a few small repairs around the place. What he wasn’t looking forward to was the barn dance scheduled for the evening. Madeleine had hired some country band from town, and they were going to string chili pepper lights between the two bunkhouses and have a hoedown. A good time would be had by all—as long as you liked to dance.

  “Come on, you said you know how to two-step,” Dora urged.

  “Yeah. My mom made me learn when I was six. Trust me, it’s not going to be pretty.”

  As a matter-of-fact, it was going to be hell. His mother had invited half the county to join them, including the Humboldts from out past Two Shot. Emily Humboldt had been his best girl all through high school. He could still picture the look of betrayal on her face when he’d announced at a graduation party that he’d filled his PRCA card and was going pro on the rodeo circuit. Evidently, she’d expected a diamond to go with her graduation tassel.

  He’d run into her a few times since, and she’d seemed friendly enough. But the barn dance setting reminded him too much of the past, and there was a good chance it would remind Emily, too.

  He pitched the last saddle onto a sawhorse in the tack room and headed for the fire pit. He’d planned on going up to bed, avoiding a likely conflict with Cat. He’d discovered during his marriage that it was be
st to let tempers on both sides cool before revisiting an issue.

  But Dora was right; they’d be thrown together at the barn dance whether Cat wanted to see him or not, so he might as well make nice now.

  If she’d let him.

  It didn’t look promising. She was sitting alone on the far side of the fire, hugging herself and staring moodily into the flames. He ought to leave her to it and count himself lucky for escaping another difficult relationship—along with inevitable heartbreak. But something about her dedication to Dora touched him. How had she put it? I love her like crazy—probably too much. That was something he could understand.

  As he approached, Cat jerked to her feet and stalked over to where the Delaneys were chatting about the day’s adventures. Okay, she didn’t want to talk to him. But he could talk to the Delaneys too, and she could hardly be rude in front of her clients.

  He joined the small knot of artists and gave Cat a casual grin. “How’d my daughter do?”

  He knew the answer. Viv had done great. She’d stayed on the fringes of the group at first, being careful not to take time away from the paying students, but her work was good enough to attract attention and the others had noticed. Cat had, too. She’d spent some time with Viv, explaining some of those art terms she was always dropping like small, incomprehensible verbal bombs into her lessons.

  “She did well,” Cat said.

  He kept grinning and rolled one hand in a “keep going” gesture.

  “Really well. You have a very talented daughter.” She turned back to Abby and Emma, obviously hoping to resume their previous conversation and shut him out, but the women weren’t playing her game.

  “She’s a sweet girl,” Emma said, patting Mack’s arm. “You did a good job raising her.”

  Abby nodded. “You sure did. Don’t you think so, Cat?”

  Cat nodded, her eyes darting around in search of an escape route.

  “In fact, you probably want to talk to Cat about her future. Maybe Viv would like a career in art someday.”

  The two ladies wandered off, giving each other congratulatory winks. Mack wondered why they didn’t just quit faking casual and high-five each other on their matchmaking success.

  Chapter 30

  Cat watched the old folks go, feeling utterly abandoned. They thought they were doing her a favor, matching her up with Mack. But after the way he’d betrayed her, she didn’t even want to talk to him.

  “Viv did fine,” she said, and turned to go.

  He put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped, trying to decide if she should shrug it off or spin and smack him. Unfortunately, her indecision allowed the warmth of his hand to seep into her skin, and she felt her heart soften in spite of herself.

  “Viv’s not the one I wanted to talk to you about,” he said.

  She turned. “Oh. You’re going to tell me about your day with Dora?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m surprised she hasn’t sworn you to secrecy.”

  “I wouldn’t agree to that.”

  “Well, you agreed to everything else. You told her she could skip out on the workshop and mess around with horses all day. Thanks a lot, Mack. I told you she’s what matters most to me. I wanted to spend the day with her. You knew that.”

  She shot him a glare that should have frozen him on the spot—although it was a challenge to freeze something as stunningly, ridiculously hot as this cowboy. He’d come straight over from the barn, and his chambray shirt was rumpled and flecked with hay. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying ropy, muscular forearms, and a streak of dirt marred the faint stubble on his jaw.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe things were too fancy in Chicago. Because she’d never seen a man so simply and viscerally masculine back East.

  She shook her head. They were supposed to be talking about Dora. Maybe it wasn’t all his fault they’d gotten sidetracked last night. She felt her anger easing and made one final effort to stoke up the heat.

  “I’m trying to help her, and painting is my way in. It’s the one thing we have in common. And you took that away.”

  “I didn’t take it away. Dora didn’t want to do it.”

  “She doesn’t want to get up in the morning, either. She doesn’t want to make nice with the other students. But she does it because she has to. She would have participated in the workshop, too.”

  “So you want to force her to? I thought you wanted her to be happy. And I can tell you, she was happier today than I’ve ever seen her.”

  She scraped the toe of her boot in the dirt, as if drawing a line he couldn’t cross. “You knew what the girls were going to do. You knew.”

  She blinked fast. Do not cry. Do not cry.

  “But you didn’t tell me. You forgot all about it and let me be ambushed the next day. Meanwhile, you…” Her tongue felt thick and clumsy, her throat tight. “You helped yourself.”

  ***

  Mack figured he’d better start talking before Cat defined what they’d done last night in terms he didn’t want to hear.

  “I really did forget,” he said. “I wasn’t playing you.” His tongue seemed to have grown and his throat was tight. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  Lame. Just lame.

  She apparently thought so too, because she rolled her eyes. “Well, you obviously could help yourself to me.”

  He looked down at the toes of his boots and scuffed at the dirt. “That seems to come naturally.”

  Her frown tightened, and he waited for the storm to start. He had no excuse, and she was about to tear into him. This was the way every relationship he had ended.

  The worst part of it was, he couldn’t defend himself—because she was right. What he’d done had been wrong on so many levels he couldn’t even count them.

  “Look.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the corner of the bunkhouse. “I’m sorry.”

  Her lips twitched again. “You apologized last night, too.”

  “You think I apologized to get you into bed?”

  She glanced right and left and he realized he’d spoken pretty loudly. Fortunately, nobody reacted. Although Abby and Em weren’t far away, they were studiously keeping their eyes on each other. Probably pretending they couldn’t hear so they could gather some juicy scuttlebutt.

  “I meant what I said last night. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.”

  She stared at him for a moment and he braced himself for a tongue-lashing. But to his surprise, she let out a laugh—a bubbling, overflowing, can’t-help-it kind of laugh.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said. “It seems like our entire relationship has consisted of you apologizing to me. It’s endless. You beat up my client. You seduce me in front of my niece. You give her permission to do exactly what I don’t want her to do.” The laugh trilled out again, floating through the night air, and several of the guests turned to look at them. “We alternate between having sex and apologizing.”

  He knew he shouldn’t laugh with her. He shouldn’t even smile. But he couldn’t help it.

  “Believe it or not, I’m actually trying to impress you,” he said.

  That made her laugh harder, in little bursts. She was holding her stomach. “That’s what makes it so funny.”

  He tried to look insulted while she finished her fit of giggles, but it was tough not to join in. Finally, she got a grip on herself and looked up at him with shining eyes, her lips still quirked up at the corners.

  Dang, she was gorgeous.

  “I might have done something right today,” he said cautiously.

  That started the giggles again.

  “No, seriously.”

  “Okay.” She put one hand to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “Look, you’re a good person. You don’t do anything out
of meanness, and you don’t lie. You protect the people you love. It’s not that what you do isn’t right. It’s just—different. Different from anyone I know.”

  “Different from Ames Whitaker?”

  “Very different.”

  “Is that such a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know.” She giggled again. “Ask Trevor.”

  Now she had him laughing.

  The storm of laughter finally cleared, leaving them both flushed and a little breathless.

  “So what did you do right?” she asked.

  “I got Dora talking,” he said. “She told me some stuff that might help you figure out what’s going on with her.”

  Cat glanced at the two older women, who were tilting toward them in their efforts to eavesdrop. She was surprised they hadn’t used her laughter as an excuse to join them. Letting that goal trump their curiosity showed how determined they were to make the match.

  But they wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. She needed to remove temptation. She’d just consider it helping them through their recovery from terminal busybody-itis.

  Grabbing Mack’s arm, she towed him around the corner of the bunkhouse. He took full advantage of the move, maneuvering her against the wall so she was standing closer to him. That brought the scowl back.

  “I just want to make sure we have privacy,” she said. “I don’t want to spread Dora’s issues all over.”

  “I want to make sure we have privacy too.” He looked down at her and thought about stealing that kiss again.

  “Stop. This isn’t some game.” She shoved him away and he grudgingly took a step back.

  “Okay. You’re right.” He probably shouldn’t be teasing her. It was insensitive, considering how worried she was about her niece. But with her standing so close, it was hard to remember what he’d planned to talk to her about. All he could think to say was something like “please can we go back to bed,” or “I want to rip that oversized shirt right off your tasty little body.”

  “Dora.” He closed his eyes a second, wiping out the image of Cat naked in his bed and reorienting himself to the topic at hand. “She’s angry with you, but mostly it’s about her mother dying.”