How to Handle a Cowboy

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How to Handle a Cowboy Page 22

by Joanne Kennedy


  “It’s beautiful here.” She stepped outside to lean on the porch rail. “Don’t you get lonely, though? It’s so quiet.”

  “It’s not quiet all the time. But yes, I do get lonely sometimes.”

  The crickets chirped a few more bars of their steady symphony.

  “I’m—sorry,” she said. “I—you’re a really nice guy. I just…”

  “I know,” he said. And she felt like he did. He understood, and he wasn’t asking anything of her that she wasn’t willing to give. The problem was what she was asking of herself.

  “You’re welcome back anytime,” he said. “You know that. The door’s always open.”

  You’re welcome, please, thank you—since when had life’s little pleasantries become so loaded with meaning?

  He stepped past her, jogging down the porch steps and heading for his truck.

  Shoot. Talk about awkward; she’d forgotten she’d have to endure the long, bouncy ride to her vehicle.

  Hadn’t they bounced enough?

  The thought made her smile, breaking the grim mood that had plagued her since she’d woken up next to Ridge. They had bounced, and it had felt great, and there wasn’t a darned thing she could do about it now.

  They jounced down the road in silence for a while. She stared straight ahead, but she could see, from the corner of her eye, that he watched her whenever he didn’t need to watch the road.

  “I’ll get that door fixed,” he said. “I can probably get Ben to come out and grade the road too. Make it a little easier for you to get up here.”

  “That’s right,” she said. “I need to bring Riley out. Would tomorrow morning be okay for that?”

  “Anytime tomorrow, I guess. And you’re still bringing the boys on Saturday, right?”

  His tone was sharper, and she didn’t blame him. She had to admit that it would be cruel to deny the boys their outing just because she couldn’t keep her hands off the teacher.

  “Sure.” She hoped her casual tone covered up her original intention, which was to heck with the boys, I’m staying away from Decker Ranch. “But we need to stay on a professional level, okay? On a personal level, I feel like I’m on a roller coaster ride.”

  “My fault,” he said as he pulled the truck to a rocky stop.

  “No, it’s not your fault at all. It takes two. And I’m really grateful for your help with Riley.”

  She didn’t mention that she was also grateful for the darkness, so he couldn’t see her blush, and grateful for the van, waiting at the foot of the drive to carry her back to Wynott. Back to Denver, if she wanted. Back to a city so big nobody knew who you were. That was her kind of place. Here in this little town, everybody knew your business. And her business was getting too complicated to share.

  He stepped out of the truck and she crawled awkwardly after him, trying to maintain a little dignity despite the fact that she was scrambling around on all fours. Finally, she slid to the ground, planning to run to the van and go. But he was standing right there, so close she wanted—needed to touch him. She leaned against his truck, staring down at the ground.

  “So you don’t like roller coaster rides,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not emotional roller coasters.”

  She edged past him to climb into the van and sit behind the steering wheel, but his eyes were on hers and although she heard a danger signal deep in her brain, she was still unable to do what she knew she should do—crank the ignition and drive.

  He tapped on the window, and like a fool, she rolled it down. He rested his elbows on the edge. She resisted the urge to reach out and stroke the hair on his muscular forearms, brown hair bleached to blond by the sun.

  “As far as the drive home is concerned, just watch your speed. Sheriff Jim loves to catch speeders.”

  She nodded, a little annoyed. She hardly needed driving instructions from him. Why did men always assume women couldn’t drive?

  “As far as our personal relationship goes, the roller coaster’s going uphill right now—not a bad place to be, really.”

  He straightened, tipped his hat, and headed back to the truck, so she didn’t get the chance to tell him again that there wouldn’t be any personal relationship between them. It would be professional, all professional. She was getting off the roller coaster, even if she had to climb out of the car and jump.

  But as she rolled down the road, she couldn’t help puzzling over what he’d said. Uphill was the hard part of the roller coaster ride, when the little cars huffed and puffed to reach the top of the hill, right? So what did that mean, It’s going uphill right now? He said that like it was a good thing.

  She thought of the last roller coaster ride she’d been on. It had been at Elitch Gardens, an amusement park that had been built in the 1890s and somehow survived despite the fact that it was located in the heart of Denver. She’d regretted her decision to ride the Sidewinder the minute she handed her money to the sunburned teenager who ran the ride. But as the little car began its clattering ascent, the park spread out below her. She watched the families strolling the grounds, the young couples sharing funnel cakes and hot dogs. As they rolled higher, ever higher, she could see beyond the border of the amusement park, where the city’s apartment buildings and warehouses gave way to open land, neat squares and circles of planted fields divided by straight, brown roads leading in all directions. The world kept getting bigger and bigger as she rose higher and higher.

  Snug in her little car, she’d felt like she owned that world—a happy world, a world where kids rode the Spider for fifty cents and couples snuggled on the Ferris wheel, where teacups twirled laughing children and winning a giant teddy bear was the only ambition that mattered.

  When she’d reached the summit, she’d felt her car tipping forward, first a little, then a little more, and she’d wondered, with a thrill of delight, what lay ahead. Whatever it was, however fast they clattered down the tracks, she knew that if she lifted her arms in the air and trusted to the future, her heart would fill with joy.

  Is that what life with Ridge would be like? Because she could live a life like that.

  She just couldn’t live it in Wynott.

  Chapter 34

  When Sierra shut the car off in front of Phoenix House, the little town’s silent night seemed even more profound than usual. She heard the scrape of a window being opened, then the bang of a screen door. Her neighbors were on the job, watching the street for trouble and probably hoping to pick up a little gossip fodder as well. The story of her late-night arrival would be a topic of speculation on the bench outside the hardware store by morning.

  At least Riley wasn’t there to tease her about her long night with Ridge—or to hear her toss and turn as she relived their lovemaking over and over in her dreams.

  As it turned out, Riley didn’t turn up until nine the next morning—late enough that Sierra had time to put the kids on the bus and pace the floor for over an hour, worrying about her.

  “Where have you been?”

  Riley flashed her a smile. “Umm, Denver?” She set her hands on her hips and cocked her head. The pose exuded an air of confidence Sierra hadn’t seen from Riley in years. “You know, where I told you I was going to be?” She grinned and flopped down on one of the two worn chairs by the bay window.

  “It’s just that I worry,” Sierra said.

  “I know. But wait till you hear what I found out.” Riley wriggled with excitement.

  “About what?”

  “About that asshole Mitch.”

  Sierra sat up and grabbed the edge of the sofa. “I knew it! I knew you were with him! I heard his voice on the phone.” She narrowed her eyes. “So you did lie to me.”

  “Nope. I was at my Mom’s place.”

  “He was there?”

  “I invited him over.”

  “Riley, how could you do that? You know he lied about knowing me.” Her eyes widened. “You’re not thinking about starting up a relationship with him, are you? Because—”
>
  “Sierra.” Riley cocked her head sideways and glanced up at the ceiling, still channeling that fed-up teenager. “I’m not stupid. I know he lied, and I wanted to know why. So I lured him into my web and found out more about him.” She did her best Cruella de Vil laugh. “I think he thought I was going to sleep with him or something. He was trying to impress me with all his great accomplishments.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like that he’s a major drug dealer down there. Major. I got him bragging about how much product he moves, all that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, that’s great news.”

  “So we know he wasn’t at that Alcoholics Anonymous meeting where I met him to deal with any kind of addiction. He was looking for me because he wanted to get to you.”

  Sierra felt a prickle of unease at the nape of her neck, as if a cold hand had reached out to tickle her there. “Why would he want to get to me?”

  “I don’t know.” Riley’s confidence seemed to escape from her like air from a balloon, and she slumped in her chair. “I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me. I asked him why he wanted to know the kids’ names too, and he gave me some bullshit about friends naming their baby.”

  “You asked him?”

  “Well, sure. Why not?”

  “You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger like that.”

  “Sierra, I rode all the way up here with him. If he was going to hurt me, he’d have done it then. I think he’s after one of the kids.”

  “I know.” Sierra picked at a hole in the ancient couch.

  “Do you think one of the kids’ parents is some kind of druggie and owes him money or something?”

  The chill clutched the back of Sierra’s neck then scampered down her spine. “It’s possible.” She stood. “In any case, there’s no way you can go back to Denver now. We need to keep you safe until I get this figured out.”

  Riley perked up again. “So I can stay here?”

  “Even better.” Sierra took a deep breath and put on her best Happy-Birthday-Fourth-of-July-Merry Christmas smile. “You’re going to stay at Decker Ranch!”

  Riley stared at her, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly. “With that cowboy?”

  “You bet. And he’s got a job for you.”

  “Right,” Riley said. “Next you’ll tell me he’s got sparkly unicorns. If he does, he probably wants me to clean their stalls.”

  “Nope. You won’t believe this. He’s renovating the house, and he wants you to help.”

  That got Riley’s attention. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “He actually wants me to help, or you talked him into taking me on as a pity case?”

  “You’re not a pity case.”

  “But you did talk him into it, didn’t you?”

  “Just take a look,” Sierra said. “Come with me and see the place. If you hate it, I’ll take you back to Denver.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. But I think you’ll like it. He has a really nice room for you, with plenty of privacy.”

  Riley’s eyes narrowed and a slow smile spread over her face. “You went out there last night.”

  Sierra felt herself blushing, so there was no point in lying. “Just to make sure he had a good place for you to stay.”

  “Yeah? And is that all you did?”

  Sierra didn’t want to lie outright. “You know I’m not looking for a guy right now.”

  “I know that. But does he know that?”

  Sierra nodded, feeling like she was back on solid ground. She had told Ridge, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn’t looking for love. Riley didn’t need to know that was after she’d had red-hot, crazy, caterwauling sex with him.

  “So you guys are just friends?”

  Sierra thought a moment. What was the truth? Was she really done with Ridge Cooper, or was she kidding herself?

  They had a strong connection—stronger than she’d ever felt with a man. It had her thinking about love that lasted, love that led to marriage. Over and over, as she’d tried to sleep, she’d pictured the ranch house as it had looked when she’d left. The lights from the windows had been the only sign of human habitation on the wide, night-shrouded plains. The squares of gold beaming light out into the deep, dark prairie night had looked welcoming and warm. What would it be like to live there, to always have a real home to return to, to always have a light burning for you no matter where you went? What would it be like to know where you belonged?

  You’re welcome back anytime. That’s what Ridge had said. The door’s always open.

  She needed to stop thinking about that door. Because no matter how well they meshed when they were rolling around in that big old bed at the ranch, Ridge’s lifestyle was so different from hers he might as well be the King of England. They were miles apart.

  “Earth to Sierra.” Riley waved as if from a far distance. “You and Ridge. What’s the story?”

  “There’s nothing going on,” Sierra said. “I mean, are you kidding? He’s a cowboy.”

  “Exactly.” Riley laughed. “That would never work.”

  “So are you ready to go?”

  Riley froze like a startled rabbit. “Now?”

  Sierra stood, brushing imaginary lint off her black capris.

  “No time like the present. Come on, Riley. It’s time to cowgirl up.”

  Chapter 35

  A heavyset man in overalls gave Sierra and Riley a cheerful wave from the cab of some enormous Caterpillar monstrosity as they paused to turn onto the ranch road. Looking ahead, Sierra realized the monstrosity was apparently a grader, because the road’s ruts and washouts were all smoothed away.

  She couldn’t help smiling. It was nice to know there were still men who kept their promises. Not that Ridge would be making any promises to her or anything. And grading a road was hardly a romantic gesture. But still…

  She had no trouble coaxing the Jeep up the hill this time. When they reached the top and looked down on the quaint ranch house and barn, she turned to Riley.

  “See? I told you it was nice.”

  Riley hummed the theme song to Green Acres under her breath. When Sierra didn’t laugh, she fidgeted in her seat and kicked at the floorboards. “I’m sorry. I know I should be grateful that you’ve found a place for me. And I am, I really am. It’s just so—different.”

  “Just give it a chance,” Sierra said. “I didn’t expect to like it either, but I love it out here. I wish I could live here for a while.”

  “Yeah, but you have ulterior motives.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do too.”

  They laughed together, and Sierra felt the tension between them easing away.

  As they exited the car, the Tweedles bolted from their stations on the porch and performed their usual balletic greeting, swirling around both women, swishing their long, brushy tails. Riley shied away as Sierra bent to pet them, ruffling the thick fur on their shoulders and stroking their silky ears as they took turns lunging for her face, sloppy kisses locked and loaded.

  Once the dogs had calmed down, Sierra headed for the house with Riley trailing behind her. She rapped sharply on the screen door. Since the front door was standing open, she stepped inside, the dogs following.

  “Ridge?” she called.

  The dogs shoved her aside and rocketed past her, furry feet skidding on the hardwood floor of the hallway as they hooked the turn into Ridge’s bedroom. Almost immediately, a volley of curses erupted, and one of the dogs appeared a second later, gleefully dragging a white T-shirt. The other dog joined its partner, slipping and scrambling as it grabbed the other end of the garment.

  “Dammit, give that back.” Ridge bolted out of the bedroom. His hair was wet, his eyes were wild, and he wore nothing but a pair of jeans. He barely wore those, since they were unbelted and hung so low on his hips Sierra was afraid he might lose them at any moment.

  “Dum! Dee!”

  Sierra and Riley jumped aside as the dogs sped out the fr
ont door, enjoying a rollicking game of tug-o-war with the shirt as they ran. Once they reached the yard, they stopped and really put their hearts into the game, bracing their front legs and growling ferociously.

  “Dum! Dee! Dum!” Ridge yelled as he passed them.

  Riley looked at the dogs then at Ridge, then at Sierra. “Dum dee dum dee dum?” she sang in a tentative alto.

  Sierra started laughing just as the dogs paused in their growling and the unmistakable sound of tearing cloth rent the still autumn air. But at least part of the shirt held, and the dogs began circling, still growling, still tugging, humping up their shoulders with effort as they moved across the yard in slow circles.

  Ridge caught up and grabbed the middle of the shirt with one hand, nearly hauling both dogs off the ground. Still they clung to it until one lost its hold. The loser turned and barked madly as the remaining contestants tussled over the shirt.

  Ridge wrapped the fabric around one hand, reminding Sierra he couldn’t hang on with the other one. The muscles in his arm bulged while his back and shoulders rippled with every tug.

  Meanwhile, the dog laid back her ears and held on, shaking her head furiously as she tried to rip the shirt from his hand.

  “Dum. Dum!” he yelled.

  “Is that the dog’s name?” Riley asked.

  Sierra nodded, but she wasn’t paying much attention to Riley. How could she when Ridge was putting on such a show? Water droplets flew from his hair and trailed down the bunched muscles of his back as he wrestled with his dog.

  The dog growled low as Ridge hauled her closer and closer. Soon man and dog were nose to nose, and Sierra was pretty sure they were both growling. Ridge’s brows were drawn down and his eyes were fixed on the dog’s with a primal intensity that made Sierra a little nervous. If she were a dog, she would’ve given him back his shirt.

 

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