How to Catch a Cowboy in 10 Days

by Kimberly Krey

  Heat gathered in her chest, pooled up her neck, and then moved toward her face as he stepped closer. One smooth stride after the next. Her heart broke into a sprint—at least half-a-dozen beats for each step he took.

  She wasn’t the only one who’d settled on blue. While the top she wore was a deep, crystal blue, Trey’s short sleeved shirt was lighter, a perfect accent to his rich complexion. He walked until he stood directly in front of her.

  Ann blinked, realizing she hadn’t responded to the compliment he’d given. “Thanks,” she managed. “You…” she cleared her throat. “You look great too.” Her attention was seized when she saw him lift an arm toward her. She held her breath, wondering just what he had in mind, when he caught a lock of hair in one hand. With his gaze set on the action, he twisted the strand around one finger. Her scalp tingled in response, and—without meaning to—she let out a shaky breath.

  “It’s longer than I thought,” he said, his gaze drifting back to her face. Her heart felt tingly now too. Did he intend to kiss her again? It seemed as if he might.

  “I didn’t realize you hadn’t seen it down before,” she managed. The comment seemed to snap Trey out of his stupor, if that’s what it was, because suddenly he dropped his hand and flashed her a grin. “So, I’ve got a few things planned out for us. Dinner will be coming in about an hour, so I thought I’d show you what we like to do for fun here on the ranch.” He offered his hand.

  Ann took it. “Sounds good to me.”

  Worn wood creaked beneath her steps as he led her down three slatted stairs and onto the grass. “First off, we play a game of barnyard bowling. It’s where we use a bunch of odds and ends for the pins. And for the ball… here’s the good part, we use that thing right there.” He pointed to an old-looking coffee can resting on a small card table in the shade. A carton of whipping cream, a bottle of vanilla flavoring, and a box of something she didn’t recognize stood beside it.

  “We bowl with a can?”

  Trey let go of her hand and hunched down to retrieve a small cooler from beneath the table. “Yep,” he grunted, lifting the thing onto the table. He opened it to reveal a pile of ice cubes. “But first, we have a few things that need to go inside the can. Ever made homemade ice cream?”

  Ann shook her head. “Never.”

  “Oh, you are missing out. Life changer right here. Total life changer.” He dug through the ice and pulled out a large re-sealable bag. “You open this up and hold it for me while I pour in our ingredients.”

  She did as he said, and Trey set to work. Pouring in cream and sugar. Measuring the vanilla with the small lid topping the bottle. Narrating all the while like he was the host of some hunky cowboy kitchen show.

  “Now we seal it up and put it in another bag, just to be safe.” He snagged a second bag from the icy cooler and assisted her in smashing the air out of the cream-filled bag. After sealing that one up, Ann slipped it into the one Trey had open and ready. “There,” he said, opening the coffee can. “Now we drop it in here. Toss in some ice and kind of let it fall around the bag. How about you shake in some of that rock salt?”

  Ann glanced at the box in question.

  “That’s the stuff,” he said with a nod.

  A small laugh escaped her lips as she pulled open the tab and shook it over the can. “Is this really going to make ice cream?” She could hardly imagine it.

  “Only the best you’ve ever tasted,” he insisted. “Okay, that should do it.” Trey placed the round, plastic lid back onto the can and reached for something hiding behind the ingredients. A roll of clear packing tape. He took a moment to find the loose edge, then gave it a good tug until he’d freed a strip the length of his arm. “Wanna see if you can tear the edge right there?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Ann tilted her head, brought her mouth to the edge where he held onto the roll, and bit into the tape, tearing the piece free. Her brother Jeff—the dentist—would have a conniption.

  “There we go. We’ve got to seal this up real well, since it’s going to take a whole lot of abuse while we play.” He placed the tape where the can met the lid and wrapped it around the thing several times, smoothing it over the top as he went. He lifted it triumphantly in the air, giving it a good, loud shake. The ice clanked noisily inside the tin. “Ready,” he declared, and then dropped the thing right onto the ground on its side.

  “I can see why we need the tape,” she said with a laugh.

  Trey kicked the can back and forth between his feet like a soccer ball, and then slanted his foot to one side and directed it to her. He nodded toward the barn. “We’re headed over there.”

  Ann looked down at the thing as it clanked to a stop, sensing a shift of the weight within. She gave it a kick with the inside of her boot as Trey had and then batted it with the other. “Okay,” she said, I think I’ve got the hang of it.” She kicked it over to him. “So where did you learn to do this?”

  “I made it at some youth activity with my worship group as a kid. I came home, taught everyone how to make it, and soon it became a summer tradition.”

  Ann zeroed in on the church part. She attended back home, but rarely saw men his age unless accompanied by their wife or girlfriend. “So do you still go? To worship, that is?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m not one for pushing it on others or anything, but life seems to run a whole lot smoother when I’m closer to God.”

  Ann had noticed that very thing in her own life. “You’re right. It’s funny, too, because once you’re grown and on your own, you think maybe you won’t need it anymore. Or at least, that’s how I felt. I found out soon enough that I needed it more than ever.” She slowed her pace as she realized Trey was no longer walking. He’d stopped steps back, was simply looking at her with a question in his eye.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Trey shook his head. “Nothing. I had a similar experience, but it was brought on by a tough time I was going through. The loss of a close friend actually. He set one foot on the side of the can and rocked it forward and back with his foot.

  Keep his gaze, Ann. Don’t look away… But before she could even finish the thought, she dropped her gaze to the can at his feet, her shy nature getting the better of her.

  The action seemed to pull Trey from his musings; he cleared his throat and gave the can one good push in her direction. She couldn’t help but think she’d missed something then, something he’d wanted to tell her.

  “Anyway,” Trey said. “I didn’t stay away too long. What about you? What got you to go back?”

  Ann shrugged. “Nothing profound,” she admitted. “I wasn’t exactly trying to reconnect at the time. I was…” she pushed the can forward a few feet, shaking her head as she walked to catch up to it. “I was thinking about some of the qualities I wanted in a partner, and going to church was one of those things. Which made me realize how long it’d been since I’d gone myself. So that next Sunday I went. And the weeks following as well. Pretty soon I was building a whole different kind of relationship. One that I probably needed to have before I had any business getting serious with someone. Not that I had a guy in my life to get serious with.”

  Ann caught up with the can and shifted to give the thing a shove in Trey’s direction. “That makes sense,” he said, his voice suddenly raspy.

  Now Ann, look at him. She lifted her chin, locking her gaze on his. Her heart thrummed wildly against her chest.

  Trey stopped the can from rolling with one foot. They were almost to the barn now. “Well maybe God’s been saving that special guy up someplace just for you. Getting him ready for the day you’d walk into his life.” He lifted an insinuative brow.

  Ann smiled, her chest swelling with heated excitement and hope. “Maybe.”

  Chapter 14

  “Okay,” Trey said as he set up the makeshift bowling pins. “This is your last round so make it count.”

  He strode back to where Ann stood at the head of their barnyard bowling lane. Afternoon sun poured in t
hrough the open double doors at her back, lighting her up like an angel. Ann rolled the can beneath her foot, her aim set on the challenge before her. “If I get all of these, we’re tied.”

  “If tied means forgetting the first three games we played, then yes.”

  “Of course it does,” Ann said with a laugh. “I’m new at this, remember?”

  She didn’t seem too new at it. The first three games might have been a wash, but in the two since then, Ann had stepped up and shown she could challenge the best of the ranch hands.

  “Yes, Annie. You’re new at this. But we’ll see if that means you can catch up with me this round.”

  “Umm, hmm…” the sound of her reply faded off as she rocked the can back and forth, smashing sparse strands of hay in the dirt beneath. At last she brought the can closer to her, set her aim, and pressed off with a grunt.

  The can rolled toward the can of fertilizer up front, and the bottle of insecticide just behind it and to the left. It crashed into the two items at once, causing a ripple effect with the rest of the things in its wake. Ann jumped up and threw her hands in the air. “Woo hoo,” she hollered. “I did it!” She sounded surprised. She threw her arms around him in a celebratory hug.

  Trey wrapped his arms around her in return, lifted her small frame off the ground, and spun her in place. “Of course you did,” he mumbled into her hair. Dang, she smelled good. The woman had nearly stolen his breath when walking onto the patio earlier. Dressed in denim and boots and with hair that caressed the curves of her neck, shoulders, and chest. He hadn’t expected to reveal the experience he’d had during his senior year, but something about Ann made him want to open up, share parts of his past with her. Was it because he wanted her to do the same? Perhaps, he decided.

  Or at least, he liked it each time that she did. It gave him a growing thirst to know even more about the woman who was steadily taking hold of his heart.

  “That was fun.” She took a step back from him and tucked her hair behind one ear.

  “I’m glad you liked it.” He made his way to the tipped items and began putting things back in their places. “We’ll wipe this can off in the grass out back,” he said, pushing it toward her with his foot.

  Ann stopped it from rolling before shifting her boot to aim it out the barn door. “This way?” she asked.

  Trey gave her a nod as he placed the insecticide back on the shelf. “Yep. Dinner should be on its way shortly, so I guess the question is this: do you mind having dessert before dinner?”

  Chapter 15

  A warm breeze drifted over Ann’s face as she leaned back on the patio chair. She was tempted to let her eyes close as she took in the feel of it, but she didn’t want to miss a moment of the miraculous sight before her.

  “Who set out these bird feeders?” She’d never seen so many hummingbirds in all her life. The tiny birds—their delicate figures dark against the pastel sky—darted from one feeder to the next. Hovering weightlessly one moment, scurrying busily the next. Ann turned her attention to Trey in time to see his gaze shift from the tiny birds to her.

  “They were a housewarming gift from my mom. She brought them over once I became foreman and moved from the basement to the room upstairs. It was the twins’ idea. Last weekend I had them all over for a barbeque so they could watch them in full swing. They couldn’t believe how many there were.”

  Ann nodded. “I bet. This is… incredible. I love that little humming sound their wings make. And did you know that hummingbirds have to consume approximately half of their weight in sugar every day?” She trailed off there. “I hope you don’t mind that I spit out random information all the time.”

  “Mind?” Trey said, a smile at his lips. “I love that about you.”

  A distant chime rang from the house. “Oh,” he said, coming to a stand. “That’s the delivery guy.”

  Ann stood too. “Can I help with anything?”

  Trey opened the sliding glass door, motioning for her to precede him. “You could grab a couple plates.” He pointed to a tall stack of paper plates on the counter while making his way toward the front room. “We live off paper around here,” he added with a laugh.

  Ann grinned as she eyed the large assortment of paper goods lined up against the backsplash. Paper plates, bowls, cups, and napkins. She thought back on the ice cream they’d made. Trey had poured their servings into glass bowls. Bowls they’d left on the patio, she realized.

  Friendly conversation came from the other room, letting Ann know Trey was still talking with the man who’d delivered their food. She dashed back onto the porch with the plates, napkins, and cups, before bringing the bowls and spoons back inside. If dessert could always taste as good as that ice cream did, she’d want it before dinner every day. Sweets never did ruin her appetite, despite her mother’s warning.

  Laughter sounded from the front room between Trey and the delivery guy, which came as no surprise to Ann. Trey was a friend to everyone, it seemed. Easy to talk to. Easy to be with. Easy to like. She grabbed the dishcloth beside the sink and ran it under the warm stream of water. May as well wipe down the picnic table.

  The small table, standing just feet from a covered hot tub, was fully shaded now. The hummingbirds were still in full swing, getting the last of their work done before the sun set. Ann was about to step back inside to return the dishcloth when she heard the rustle of footsteps on the grass. She assumed it was Trey coming around from the front of the house, perhaps after walking the gentleman from the restaurant back to his vehicle. But the voice she heard proved her wrong.

  “Well, hello there.” It was high-pitched, friendly, and coated with a southern accent.

  Ann glanced up from the table, wondering if her ears and eyes were fooling her. “Jenessa?”

  Jenessa had changed from her shiny pink dress to a pair of daisy duke shorts and midriff top that accentuated her curvy figure. She circled the edge of the deck and approached the steps. “I hope you don’t mind. I stopped by the Emerson place first to see if Betty and Grant were home, but no such luck. I figure the ranch hands will start making their way back soon enough…” She twisted her lip and shrugged.

  Ann felt her eyes widen. Did she know she was interrupting their date?

  “I hang out here most afternoons,” Jenessa said, running a hand along the railing as she walked. “I practically live here on the weekends.” She met Ann’s gaze, blinked her long lashes, and pulled one corner of her lip into a subtle grin.

  Ann glanced away, attempting to make sense of the woman’s statement. It seemed as if Jenessa was staking a claim of sorts. This was her turf, these were her men, and if anyone was an outsider, it was Ann. That might be true, but Ann was the one Trey had asked to spend time with tonight. New Ann wanted to ask her to leave. She and Trey were in the middle of a date. He’d just ordered food, for crying out loud.

  A war battled within her. There was a difference between being assertive and being straight-out rude. Yet suddenly the line was feeling paper thin and far from focus.

  “Okee-doke,” came Trey from behind. “Food’s on.” His sentenced stopped short. His gaze ping-ponged between Jenessa and Ann.

  “What’s going on?” he finally asked, his gaze set back on Jenessa.

  “Is that Danny’s BBQ?” Jenessa asked, her eyes getting wide. She approached the box of food as Trey slid it onto the picnic table. “I love this stuff.”

  Trey tilted his head. “Well maybe you can take a plate inside –”

  “Ann here said I could join you two,” Jenessa blurted before he could finish.

  Ann felt her mouth drop. She snapped it shut as Trey shot her a questioning glance.

  She shrugged. “Actually, I didn’t know how much food you ordered…” she started to say, not wanting to correct Jenessa by saying that she hadn’t. Ann wasn’t sure who she’d embarrass more. Jenessa or herself.

  “Well, clearly there’s enough here to feed an army,” Jenessa said. “I can pay you for some, if that’s the pr
oblem.” She began digging into her back pocket to prove it.

  “No,” Trey blurted. “That’s not necessary.” His shoulders were high and stiff. Agitation strong in his words. But when he glanced back to Ann, his face softened. “If Ann said you could join us, that’s fine by me. Pull up a chair.”

  Ann gulped, feeling like a liar now too. She hadn’t said Jenessa could join them at all. It was exactly the last thing she wanted. Desperate thoughts of speaking up prodded at her brain. Where’s the new you, Ann? But she didn’t want to be mean. Never mean. “I’ll get another paper plate,” she managed, and headed back inside.

  Rather than just grab the plate, Ann strode around the counter and stepped up to the sink. She had to gather her thoughts. She had to accept the sting of disappointment that was settling deep into her chest. Her night alone with Trey was ruined. It would look more like Jenessa and Trey’s date, if Jenessa had anything to say about it. She was naturally forward and—from what Max said—determined to dig her hooks into Trey.

  But why now? Why couldn’t she just wait until Ann left?

  Anger brewed deep in her chest. She inhaled deeply while placing a hand to her stomach and began a slow exhale through pursed lips. Come on, Ann. It’s not the end of the world. Just the end of her chances with Trey.

  “Hey,” Trey said, stepping into the kitchen. He walked around the counter and pulled open the drawer next to the sink. She wanted to scurry back onto the porch without another word. But that’s not what an assertive person would do. Instead she lifted her chin and watched as Trey fished through the silverware, grabbing two large spoons, three forks, and three knives. He shoved the drawer closed then spun to lean against the counter. He searched her face for a bit, a flash of concern sparking in his deep brown eyes. “You okay?”