A Cowboy To Keep: A Contemporary Western Romance Collection

by Hebby Roman

  He turned to her, a broad smile blanketing his features. “Are you happy?”

  She sucked in her breath. What should she say? What was he asking? What did he expect from her? That once his divorce was final, they’d get married? Not that he’d asked her, not in so many words, but the meaning was clear. Wasn’t it?

  Was she ready to remarry—if that’s what he wanted?

  There were so many details to consider. She loved living at her ranch and keeping up her charity obligations in Eagle Pass. Seeing to her real estate investments in Del Rio. Would he expect her to follow him around to his ranches? And where would they live when they needed to be in Del Rio? Her one bedroom condo would be cramped, and she didn’t care for the old, family home he’d kept on Hudson Drive. It was huge and crumbling, and John Clay hadn’t done much to restore it.

  But if she loved him, they’d work out the details, just like she and… She stopped herself again. She had to quit comparing their relationship to hers and Eduardo. It wasn’t right, and it made her doubt her feelings.

  Was she in love with John Clay? And ready to forge a new life with him? Or was their new-found relationship one borne of lust and loneliness—a counterfeit sort of love?

  A few weeks ago, she hadn’t even trusted the man. And then he’d been there for her both times when her horses…

  A sudden thought struck her, and she covered her mouth with her hand. No, no, she couldn’t think like that—it was more-than-paranoid on her part. But she couldn’t let go of the idea, either.

  Had John Clay, like he’d tried to do when they were young, manipulated her into his bed? She’d often wondered why anyone would want to harm her horses, and why it only happened when she was away from the ranch. Could he have orchestrated the incidents to make her fearful and vulnerable—hoping she’d turn to him for support?

  But the first time, she’d been with him, the night it had happened. And the second time, he’d been with his grandsons. Of course, that meant nothing. He had plenty of money to hire thugs who’d do anything for some quick cash.

  Then he could come running, appearing to be the hero. It all fit, except for one thing, she’d been the one to call him. Though, he might have guessed how she would feel and bet she would call.

  She pulled away and covered her face with her hands. She was spinning out of control, paranoia pounding her into a quivering heap of jelly.

  Gently, he lifted her hands from her face. “What on earth is wrong? What did I say?”

  “It’s nothing. Nothing,” she didn’t exactly lie, but she couldn’t tell him all of her doubts, either. “I just can’t stop thinking about my horses. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” He dropped her hands, and she glimpsed the distress in his eyes. “I, uh, I understand.” He snapped his fingers and stitched on a smile. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s forget about staying the night and get you home.” He patted her back. “How does that sound?”

  She gazed at him and couldn’t detect any hint of duplicity. And with his easy capitulation, she knew she was grasping at straws and overreacting because nothing made sense about what had happened to her horses.

  With that realization, a wave of relief rushed over her. She couldn’t envision him doing something as awful as hurting her horses to gain control over her. Not funding her loan, and that was a long time ago, was a whole world away from harming innocent horses for his own designs.

  Her relief went bone-deep, and her last, lingering doubts crumbled. She trusted him, really trusted him. And it felt right—more than right.

  She couldn’t completely erase her past love for Eduardo nor did she want to. But John Clay was her future, and she loved him. And if she wasn’t in love with him, right now, she was falling fast.

  “No, no, it’s okay. Let’s stay the night, like we planned.” She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, storing her life with Eduardo in a special place and surrendering to all the love welling in her heart for John Clay.

  She canted her voice low and whispered, “I need you now, John Clay. Naked and in bed, and completely at my mercy.” She raised her eyebrows, thinking a little sexy role playing might be just the thing to take her mind off her fears. “If you know what I mean.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Darling, why didn’t you say so sooner?”

  “But what about the picnic basket and—”

  “Forget it, I’ll buy you a new one.”

  Chapter Ten

  Leticia leaned forward in John Clay’s owner box seats, adjusting the binoculars he’d given her. He’d been adamant she should use them, saying it was easy to miss the particulars of a Quarter horse race, especially a maiden race of only two hundred and twenty yards.

  She twisted and turned, peering around with the field glasses, barely able to contain her excitement. She zeroed in on the scoreboard that said five minutes to post time—for the first race. Stormy was entered in the second race, and she could hardly wait.

  Her pulse was pounding in her ears, loud enough to sound like someone beating a snare drum beside her head. She crossed and uncrossed her legs and jiggled her foot.

  Camila reached over and patted her hand, saying, “Mamá, if you don’t calm down, you’ll start hyperventilating.”

  She squeezed Camila’s hand and exhaled. “You’re right, hija mía, it’s hard to catch my breath. I can’t believe we’re here. I can’t believe Stormy is running. It’s so exciting.”

  She glanced over at the two men, John Clay and Rusty, huddled together and swigging beer, pouring over the racing form to make bets on all the races.

  This time, she hadn’t even bothered with the other races. She’d plunked down one hundred dollars on Stormy to win and had been content to sit back and watch.

  Content, hell! Like her daughter had said, she was one massive mess of nerves.

  The first race went off smoothly with the favorite clearing the gate cleanly and winning the race. Leticia watched as they paraded the horse in the winner’s circle, below their box seats. And she observed as the horse’s owner and trainer posed with the winning black mare, grinning for the track photographer.

  John Clay put his arm around her. “That’ll be us next.” He winked. “You wait and see.”

  She snuggled in close to him. They were in honeymoon mode again. After spending the Fourth in Del Rio, and John Clay seeing his attorney about his divorce, they’d returned to her ranch to find her horses unharmed.

  Maybe Pancho and his shotgun had warned off whoever wanted to make mischief. Or maybe the two incidents had been merely coincidental. Stranger things had happened.

  The first time, it might have been some potential horse thieves that had been scared off. The second time, maybe there had been some old arsenic, laying around from months before, and a handful of tainted hay had somehow gotten swept into Princess’ stall, and she’d eaten it.

  John Clay tugged on her arm. “Get your binoculars ready.” He pointed. “Here they come from the paddock.”

  She did as he asked, following her sorrel gelding, appreciating how good he looked in John Clay’s red and white racing silks, prancing beneath José’s guidance.

  Stormy had pulled first place in the lineup, and though the post position was coveted for Thoroughbred racing, Quarter horse racing took place in a straight line. There was no distance advantage being in the first-place position. The important thing was to stay clear of the usual bumping during the stampede to clear the gate.

  And she had all the confidence that his superior speed, despite any setbacks at the start, would carry him across the winning line.

  The horses circled behind the starting gate, and the handlers led them in, one-by-one.

  John Clay grabbed her hand and held it tightly. She inhaled and watched to see how Stormy would react. Meek as a lamb, he let the track crew guide him into the gate, and he settled easily into his allotted slot. John Clay and José had done a great job training him.

  She exhaled.

 
; Then they were off!

  The line of Quarter horses came roaring down the straight track. John Clay had been correct; it was difficult to follow Stormy in the bunched, bolting mob of horses. She thought he’d been bumped, right out of the gate, but he appeared to have recovered quickly and was keeping stride with the leaders.

  She rose on her tip-toes, screaming, “Stormy! Stormy! Come on! Come on, Stormy!”

  John Clay, Rusty, and Camila were all screaming, too.

  She saw the bright flash of red silks, and her gelding pulling clear. In a split-second, he was across the finish line, winning by a half a length.

  They all started jumping up and down and hugging each other. Leticia was so happy, tears seeped from her eyes. She wiped at them, but they just came back.

  John Clay grabbed her and kissed her, hard and quick. Then he took her hand and said, “What’s this? You’re crying.” He leaned down and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Dry your tears, darling. You need to have a big smile, ready for the camera.” He frowned. “But why are you crying? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Don’t you know happy tears when you see them?”

  * * *

  The four of them lingered over their after-dinner drinks at the hot new place on the San Antonio Riverwalk that Rusty had reserved for dinner called, “Restaurant Gwendolyn.”

  Despite not living part-time in San Antonio anymore, it was obvious her partner still knew the best places to go in the city. The restaurant had been superb, serving delicious food in a gorgeous setting and with five-star service.

  Leticia couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an exciting day. The guys were sipping brandy, a little the worse for wear, when Rusty stood. “I’d like to make a toast to Stormy Knight. One hell of a fast horse!”

  They all clinked glasses. She and her daughter had decided on Grand Marnier for their after-dinner drinks. She sniffed the citrusy aroma of the liqueur, swirled it around in her glass, and took a sip.

  “Well, Leticia,” Rusty turned to her, “what have you decided about Stormy’s future? Are you going to start a racing stable or not? I think it’s time to make a decision, though…” He let his voice trail off and winked at her daughter.

  “Camila and I might have more to say about it—as we’ll be around more to help out and—”

  “You, big lug!” Camila elbowed Rusty in his side.

  “Ooof.” He turned and glared at her. “Why’d you do that for? We planned on telling—”

  “Yeah, but you could have eased Mamá and John Clay into it.”

  “I don’t see what it matters,” Rusty grumbled.

  Leticia held up both hands. “Children, children, what are y’all talking about?”

  Rusty and Camila exchanged glances. He inclined his head and said, “You go ahead.”

  “You sure? Seems like the guy should be doing this.”

  “That’s what I was trying to do, but someone belted me in the ribs—”

  “Camila, for Pete’s sake, what are y’all trying to tell us?” Leticia demanded.

  Camila cleared her throat and glanced at Rusty again. “Okay, here goes, end of this next year, Rusty will have his MBA and condo project finished. I’ll be half-way through undergraduate school. We plan on taking some time off to get married next summer and start a family.”

  Leticia couldn’t believe her ears. A beam of pure joy jolted through her, and she jumped up and hugged her daughter. For the second time in one day, tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Her daughter and Rusty were getting married. They were going to have a family. It was a dream come true. And Leticia couldn’t wait to hold her first grandbaby in her arms.

  “What about your schooling?” John Clay asked, gazing at Camila, and sounding like a surrogate father.

  “Well, we thought we should get started sooner rather than later, so Pops here—”

  “Don’t call me Pops,” Rusty groused, glaring at her.

  Camila stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, Pops isn’t getting any younger, and we don’t want our kids to think he’s their grandfather or something. So, we thought we better get started and when the kids are older, I’ll go back to school.”

  Leticia held her daughter at arm’s length. “You’ve made me so happy! So very happy!” She paused, putting two-and-two together. “You’re going to get married next summer. Where?”

  “Uh, we haven’t worked out all the details.” Camila hugged her mother back. “I thought you’d like to help me with that, Mamá.”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I would.”

  Suddenly, John Clay put his arms around both of them and said, “I’m so happy for you, Camila.” He inclined his head at Rusty. “You, too, Pops.”

  Rusty grimaced.

  “And I’d like to share with you kids your Mom and my happy news, too.” He stepped back.

  Leticia gazed at him and frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Now it was his turn to clear his throat, and she noticed the back of his neck had turned red. “Uh, Leticia knows I’ve started working on getting a divorce from Cathy.”

  He looked at her, as if silently searching for her support. But she could feel her neck and cheeks flush, guessing where he was going without discussing it with her first. And like a herd of stampeding bulls, she had no idea of how to stop him.

  “If y’all aren’t getting married until next summer, maybe Leticia and I could make it a double wedding.”

  He reached for her, but she stepped back and stared at him, hoping her pointed look would convey her shock and bewilderment at his more-than-rash statement.

  He frowned, gazing at her. His mouth had dropped open, and he gaped, looking like a netted fish.

  She turned her head to one side, unable to meet his gaze. “Rusty, can you get your Land Rover from valet parking? I want to go back to the hotel now.”

  * * *

  John Clay escorted Leticia to her room at the Hotel Valencia, an upscale boutique hotel on the Riverwalk. For the sake of appearances, she’d insisted on separate rooms.

  And now he was glad they had their own rooms. Or, at least, he thought he was. He was trying to keep his anger under wraps—his hurt and anger. They hadn’t said three words to each other since she’d publicly ignored his offer of marriage in front of Rusty and Camila.

  But he couldn’t let it end like this. He loved her … and he had to know what had possessed her to act that way at the restaurant.

  She inserted her card key and opened the door but before she could shut the door in his face, he grabbed her elbow.

  He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice when he asked, “What happened back there? Did you have to shame me like—”

  “What about my embarrassment? You announcing a double wedding for us when you haven’t even asked me to marry you?” She pushed on the middle of his chest. “Hell, John Clay, you’re a far sight from being divorced, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” he almost-snarled, “but next summer is a whole year away and—”

  “But you didn’t ask me first,” she hissed. “Don’t you understand?” She turned away. “And in front of my daughter and partner.” She sniffed. “Not to mention it took away the thunder of their big announcement, especially when you and I don’t even have an understanding.”

  He removed his Stetson and ran his hand through his hair. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, you’re right. I was just so damned happy and excited, I didn’t think—”

  “And a little drunk.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Though he was cold sober now. “We’d all been celebrating. I can’t believe you would—”

  “Remember how I didn’t trust you at first?”

  “Yes, I remember, and I thought I’d earned your trust, Leticia. God knows, I’ve tried my best.”

  She shook her head. “I know you have. But now we’ve started a relationship … it’s like you can’t help but pull rank on me. Return to your old arrogant ways.” She poked his chest again with her fin
ger. “This is all about your bone-headed way of doing things only to suit yourself. Not even thinking about my feelings and what I might want.” She stared him down.

  “That’s the old John Clay I remember. And I don’t, don’t…”

  “Hey, please, Leticia, don’t be upset.” He touched her arm, but she flinched away. “I didn’t mean it like that. I thought you knew I was going ahead with the divorce so we could be married. I thought we did have an understanding.”

  She dropped her head. “A woman likes to be asked … properly. As if you’re giving consideration to my feelings.”

  All his hard work for nothing.

  For Heaven’s sake, she still didn’t trust him, didn’t realize how much he loved her. And that hurt, even more than what she’d done at the restaurant.

  Was he still doing battle with the ghost of Eduardo?

  Would she ever care for him like … like her late husband?

  His guts might be twisting inside, but he’d be damned before he let his guard down again and showed her his real feelings. Enough of Mister Nice Guy, enough of trying to walk on egg shells to win her over. No matter what he did, it wasn’t good enough.

  He crammed his hat back on his head and touched the brim with his finger. “I’ll see you in the morning. I hope by then, you’ll have time to think things over and at least, give me the benefit of the doubt. I think I deserve it.”

  “You’ve been kind, it’s true, but have you really changed? I pray you have because you need to realize our getting married involves a lot of decisions. Mutual decisions. Like where we’re going to live? How much time I’ll have to spend on my ranch? Where we’ll stay when we have business in Del Rio?” She fisted her hands and planted them on her hips.

  “Have you thought about those things? Have you thought about whether your grandsons will accept me? Have you?”

  He lowered his head. “I love you, Leticia. I’ve always loved you.” He waved his hand. “We’ll work it out.”

  “I want to believe that, but if you don’t involve me in the decision making, how do you think that makes me feel?”