Tamed by Her Cowboy

by Shanna Handel

  “Okay, okay!” she drops it on the ground, brushing the snow from her hands and holding them up to show me they’re empty.

  I grab her, pulling her in close. Lean down and kiss her cold cheek. Her warm lips.

  From behind us I hear the shouts of children singing, “Buck and Ava sitting in a tree! K-i-s-s-i-n-g!”

  Breaking the kiss, I look over my shoulder to find a group of children peering out from underneath the stairs. “Little snoops. Should we get them?”

  She nods, laughing. She scoops up handfuls of snow, shouting to the kids, “You better run, spies!” She dashes off in their direction. They run, shrieking and laughing.

  Soon, Ava and I are taking on a tiny army of red-cheeked children, our breath visible in the cold air. She’s laughing, her hair damp from the snow, sticking to the sides of her face. I want to kiss her again, and again.

  She’s so beautiful, light, fun. I want to hold her in my arms. Never let her go. And damn, these little kids are so cute and chasing them, making them laugh—I can’t help but want a few of my own.

  And there’s only one woman on this Earth I’d like to have kids with.

  And she’s headed back to the city in a few short days.

  I’m playing a dangerous game. One that ends with only me getting burned.

  But in her presence, I can’t seem to stop myself. I’ve got to get my brain to kick into gear and stop this madness, this…charade…where I let myself fall into these old habits. Caring for someone who’s only going to end up leaving me. I take one long look at her before I head in. I make my way up the stairs into the Hall, calling to the kids, “Truce.”

  What’s done is done. It’s time for me to start moving on. Again.

  “Where are you going?” I hear her calling.

  “Just heading in the kitchen to give them a hand.” I hear a thwack and a squeal as she’s hit with another snowball.

  I enter the Hall, taking a deep breath. It’s warm in here; the big fire my brother built is crackling in the fireplace. It smells of baked bread, cinnamon rolls, sausage casseroles. There’s a platter of fresh fruit lining the tables. Dishes everyone brought from home for our final gathering before the snow comes.

  Blaze greets me, “Where you been, little brother? We were getting ready to start without you. I’m starving.”

  Jules hovers by his side, hopeful for his attention. “Yeah, Buck. Everyone’s getting seated. Let’s go.” She speaks to me but her mascaraed lashes flutter at my brother.

  “Go on without me. I’m not hungry. I’m going to start on the kitchen. I want to get this place cleaned up and locked down in case the snow gets heavy soon.”

  “My brother. Always the responsible one.” Blaze gives me a wink, grabbing a pastry from a tray and popping it in his mouth. He walks away, Jules tagging along behind him.

  It’s not a match I’d have ever predicted. I hate to say this about my own brother but since Jules is like a sister I can—she’s too good for him. Blaze is one to sow his wild oats; right into any mare that’s got a double D bra and legs long enough to model.

  Jules is sweet. Responsible. Virginal. She doesn’t stand a chance. She’d best back away from that fire before she gets burned.

  I’d best start taking my own advice.

  I’ll pull back, now. In a few hours, Ava will be snowed in with her family. I’ll be alone in my cabin and a few days of quiet are just what I need to get my head straight. Then, the snow will melt and she’ll hightail it out of here without a goodbye.

  And my life can go back to the way it was.

  I shake my head again. I’ve got to stop talking to myself. I hit the kitchen closet, pulling out the rolling bucket and mop. I fill the bucket with soap and hot water. Dunk my mop in then wring it out. I mop in slow, even strokes over the hardwood floors.

  Floors my father put in when I was a child. I remember that day, me sitting by his side, handing him nails as he asked for them. He was a good man. Solid. Reliable. The apple of my mother’s eye. He died when I was five, leaving me and my brothers to be raised by my mother.

  She’s a strong woman. Never let her grief take her focus off her boys. Redmond made sure she wouldn’t have to work, funding her from Cedar Creek Bank. She was there for us, cooking breakfast, making us sit down to dinner every night, no matter our excuses. She held our family together.

  Had we lived anywhere other than Cedar Creek, she’d have had to go off and work, leaving us to our own devices. It wouldn’t have been a pretty sight. We would have run wild. She would have been exhausted from work, unable to pour into us the way she did. Us Jones brothers may have our flaws, but we are solid, strong men and I give my mama all the credit for that fact.

  I’m eternally grateful to Redmond for what he did for her. For us.

  Now, the money in her pocket comes from me. As an elder of this community, I have more than I’ll ever have a use for. I do enjoy spoiling her, though. In fact, she drove here in a brand-new four-wheel drive Jeep she bought just for the purpose of this storm.

  About an hour later, the floor is spotless, the kitchen smells of lemon cleanser, and my soul is refreshed. A little hard work and elbow grease always settles my mind when I get to overthinking.

  This thing with Ava Marie is what it is. And I’m okay with that. Tennyson said it best when he wrote, “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

  I clean the bucket and mop. Put them back in the closet and wash my hands.

  But if she stays? If she’s mine?

  There’s going to be some strict rules put in place for that little hellcat.

  Just as I’m about to leave, Ava Marie’s face pops up in the doorframe of the kitchen. Fresh. Smiling. Beautiful. She says, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Just getting a head start on the cleaning.”

  She says, “Oh, well, we missed you. Miss Clara had two apple pies and she wouldn’t let anyone touch the second one because she was waiting on you.”

  “I’m sad to have missed it. She knows it’s my favorite,” I reply.

  “She gave it to me to send home with you.”

  I look past her through the doorway into the empty Hall. “Miss Clara is always the last to leave. Have I been in here so long I missed the entire brunch?”

  She nods. “You did.”

  “That’s too bad. At least the kitchen’s already done. Wouldn’t want anyone to get snowed in here. Speaking of the storm, we’d best get you and your Dad up to the Castle.” It’ll be the last time she rides in my truck. Maybe ever.

  She slides from the frame of the door into the room, the door softly closing behind her. “My aunt already took him up. She insisted on staying at the Castle for the storm. Said my father owed her a re-match in a game of Scrabble.”

  “That’s nice. You didn’t have to stay behind on my account.”

  “It’s just that…” her words trail off. Her gaze goes to her boots as she shuffles the toe of the right one against my freshly mopped floor.

  I lean on the handle of my mop. “What is it?”

  Her gaze flutters upward, meeting mine for just a moment, those hazel eyes sending a current of electricity through me before she looks away. “It’s just that…I didn’t get to have any apple pie yet.”

  “Do you want some, now? Where is it? Grab it and you can take it with you.”

  “Miss Clara gave very specific instructions that it was to be sent home with you.”

  “Take it. You’ve got more people than me with your Dad and Betty. What’s one bachelor going to do with a whole pie?”

  Her face falls. “It’s just that…I thought…maybe we could…I don’t know.” Her eyes meet mine and she takes a deep breath, exhaling, “Eat it together?”

  Ava Marie Redmond wants to be snowed in. With me.

  Which would entirely foul up my plans of moving on.

  She’s standing there, her lips slightly parted from her proposal.

 
; Me and Ava Marie. Snowed in together. For days.

  Not a chance.

  Yes, we made love in the barn. Yes, I’m just as in love with her as I always was. Of course, I’d love nothing more than to have her naked body wrapped up in my sheets, greeting me when I wake, but I’m not going to invest even more into this thing between us. Not when she’s leaving.

  “It’s not a good idea.” I stand firm.

  Her lower lip trembles embarrassed by my rejection. “I thought you’ve enjoyed hanging out with me.”

  “I have. But things between us have already gone too far. In a matter of days, you’ll be back to your old life, and I’ll be here. No need to tangle ourselves up in one another more than we already have.”

  “I see.” She gives me a nod, one hand going to the door. “I’d better get back, then.”

  “You want a ride?” I offer.

  Her words are laced with venom. “I wouldn’t want to tangle you up more than I already have.”

  “Suit yourself.” I’ve scorned her by denying her and she’ll let her temper get the best of her now. I feel sorry for her Dad and Aunt Betty—they’ll bear the brunt of her grumpiness. A few hours into the storm, she’ll snap out of it. Play board games and drink cocoa with her family where she belongs. A few days will pass. The storm will end. She’ll head back. “I’ll have Beau swing by later to make sure you got home safe.”

  “It’s just flakes. I’m fine. I don’t need you, and I don’t need an escort to get home. Thank. You. Very. Much.” She turns on her heel and storms though the door, letting it swing shut behind her.

  I ought to go after her. Turn her over my knee for her sass. Follow her home. But I know Ava Marie and sometimes the best punishment is leaving her alone with her own unpleasant company. I look out the window. There’s only a few inches. She’ll be home in fifteen minutes and I’ll have Beau swing by after his rounds and check with Pierre that she’s locked up tight. I pull my phone from my pocket, shooting him a text.

  I’m wrapping up here. Can you swing by the Castle and be sure Ava Marie got home safe.

  Beau is the brother I count on the most. He’s reliable, hardworking, and loves this place as much as I do. As always, his reply comes back quickly.

  Sure thing. I’ve just got one street left to patrol. 15-20 mins tops

  Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I enter the Hall to assess the damage. Everything’s done but the mopping. I go back to the kitchen to fill up the bucket one more time.

  When I’m done and the place is sparkling, I head out to the porch, locking the doors behind me. I’m surprised to find the snow falling, thick and fast. My boot crunch over it and I estimate a foot must have fallen while I was finishing up. I climb into my truck, pulling onto the road towards my house—a log cabin on the ranch, away from the main part of town.

  Before I get home, I’ve just got one last task—call Beau and make sure Ava’s gotten home. A weight drops in my stomach as a haunting realization comes to me. This will be the last time I make sure she’s safe. After this, I’ll likely not see her again.

  The snow is really picking up and I flip the windshield wipers on high. I call Beau.

  He answers on one ring. “Hey brother.”

  “Hey yourself. She home?”

  “I just went up to the Redmond’s like you asked. She’s not there.”

  Where the hell is she? “Damn. I sent her back a while ago. She should be there by now.”

  “You think she stopped at Jules? Want me to check?” he asks.

  I want him home safe. “No, I’ll go on down there. You get home to Ma.”

  “Will do. Shoot me a text when you find her.”

  “I will. Take care of Ma,” I say.

  “I will,” he promises.

  We hang up and I toss my phone on the bench seat. “Damnit, Ava Marie. Why do you have go and start trouble? During a blizzard, no less.” I turn the wheel, hard, Spinning and sliding till I’m facing the other direction. I head up to Main Street, pulling in front of the Reverend’s cottage. I hop out, stomping over the snow. The snow that’s getting deeper. It’s coming down hard and fast.

  I lift the brass knocker, thumping it three times. Jules appears at the door, hat on her head, scarf around her neck. “Buck? What are you doing here?”

  I know she’s been trying to get up with my brother. This hat and scarf had better not be her making plans to go to his place. “Why are you wearing that hat? You’d best not be thinking about leaving this house.”

  She shakes her head but won’t meet my eyes. “Oh, no! It’s just…a little chilly in here is all. We were just getting settled.”

  I raise my voice loud enough for her father to hear me in the next room. “Good because I don’t need to remind you that everyone is on strict orders from the elders to be in their homes, and not leaving from now until this storm is over.”

  Her porcelain cheeks pink. I swear she shoots me a guilty look. “We are well aware. Thank you.”

  “I’m here to see if you’ve heard from Ava Marie.”

  Confusion strikes her features. “Ava? I thought she was with you?”

  “No. I sent her home after brunch. Beau just went up there to check on her and she’s not home. I thought she might have stopped here, first.”

  Jules shakes her head. “No. I haven’t seen her. Did you two have a fight?”

  “No. And even if we disagreed on something that’s no just cause to be running around in a blizzard risking her ass.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find her, Buck. She can’t have gone far in this.” Her brows suddenly shoot up, excited. She’s practically grabbing her coat, so eager to have any excuse to get closer to my brother. “Want me to come with? I could help out.”

  “No. I want you here, safe. With your father. Where you belong.” I give her a stern gaze.

  She gets my meaning, tugging the hat from her head in defeat. “Fine. But be sure to send word when you find Ava. Call my dad’s landline to let me know.”

  “You got it.”

  We say goodbye. I climb in my truck, watching her cottage for a few moments, making sure she closes that door and stays put behind it.

  Where to?

  I drive up the street towards the Castle, looking for her. I dial the landline that goes to the kitchen in the Castle. Ask the cook if they’ve seen her.

  They haven’t

  I tell them not to mention my call to Redmond, or Betty, hoping Beau stopping by didn’t already raise alarms. Not yet. It’s not worth risking Redmond’s health if she’s only stalling before heading home. I turn the truck and head in the direction I’m certain I’ll find her.

  The barn.

  It’s where she always used to go when she was upset, if she didn’t come to me first. The horses calm her. Ground her.

  The snow is now coming down in buckets. Even with all-wheel drive and chains on my tires, I’m struggling to stay on the road as I slip and slide over the white powder. I’m the only one out. For that, I’m grateful. All our people have tucked in safe in their homes like we’ve requested.

  All but one little bit who’s always gone to the beat of her own drummer. A little bit whose hide I’m going to be tanning when I find her.

  So much for my plan of spending the snowstorm getting over her.

  12

  Ava Marie

  Panic strikes my chest as I realize what I’ve done.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  After getting scared about my feelings, I was so proud of myself for being brave. Ignoring my fear and panic, instead choosing to spend more time with Buck. I even checked with my aunt, first, making sure she’d be with my father and that he wouldn’t miss me too much.

  All only to be turned down.

  Instead of heading home, I stopped off at the barn. I was so mad, embarrassed that he didn’t want to be snowed in with me—or maybe in his mind, stuck with me—that stupid tears were burning in my eyes. I wanted to see the horses. Pet them and have the nuzzle my c
heek.

  Time must have gotten away from me. I knew I needed to head up to the Castle. I said goodbye to Ole Bessie and headed for the barn doors.

  But when I pushed on them to leave, they wouldn’t budge.

  I shoved hard with my shoulder, blind panic taking over. But I couldn’t get the damn things to move. The snow must really be coming down out there. It piled up against the barn, trapping me in the prison I created for myself when I let my temper get the best of me.

  Aunt Betty’s tarot card reading comes back to haunt me, her interpretation of the gold and green fool card she’d pulled.

  It’s viewed as a warning against behaving irresponsibly in an upcoming venture. Be…mindful. Maybe keep a handle on that temper of yours.

  Buck’s advice over the years rings in my mind.

  Ava Marie you’re gonna regret letting your anger rule you. Recklessness leads to destruction, little bit. Control your temper, princess. Don’t let it be the one to control you.

  Why does he always have to be right? And why, oh, why do I always have to be so bull-headed, getting myself in these situations in the first place?

  I shout, banging my fists against the wood, but there’s no one out there to hear my cries. When my throat is hoarse, I give up, sliding down to the ground. I lean my back against the doors to wait.

  I think of my father. He’ll be worried sick when he finds out I’m not with Buck. I’m glad my aunty Betty is home with him. She’ll keep him busy, holding the truth from him as long as she can.

  For once in my life, I’m glad for Buck Jones’s overprotective ways. He said he’d send Beau up to the Castle to be sure I got home safely. By now, he’ll know I defied his orders.

  He’ll be looking for me.

  There will be hell to pay when he finds me and I’ll take anything he can dish if it means not being holed up here, alone, for days. Nothing to eat but hay. I bump the back of my head against the door, closing my eyes.

  How could I have been so stupid?