The Hard-to-Get Cowboy

by Crystal Green

  Did he think that she would never expect more out of him than he was capable of giving after having his heart broken?

  The realization left her a bit hollow. It wasn’t that she couldn’t love anyone, it was just that she’d always thought of herself as a career woman—one who’d worked her tail off to become branch manager of the bank. One who, admittedly, loved to flirt and play the field to a certain point.

  At her silence, he had straightened up in his chair, as if thinking that she was actually considering his point. He seemed so confident now that a scratch of pain scored her.

  “Right before the pageant,” he said, “I had a good long talk with my brothers.”

  “And with your other friend, Jack Daniels?”

  Cade’s skin went ruddy. “All right. A little whiskey was involved, and the more I had, the more I decided I wanted to get an answer from you once and for all about where we were headed. And I don’t regret bringing this up, Laila, not even in such a spectacular fashion. Not even if I made a donkey of myself at the pageant and my own brother took enough pity on me to propose, too, turning my folly into a joke everyone could laugh off.”

  What she needed was for a hole to open up in the ceiling that would suck her right into it and out of this discussion. “I—”

  “I need to finish what I came here to say.”

  He’d raised his voice and, from the corner of her gaze, she saw Duncan Brooks stand away from the bar, obviously hearing Cade and not liking his tone one bit. Laila sent a reassuring smile at the ranch hand, letting him know everything was okay.

  Appeased, Duncan went back to drinking his beer, hunched over it as he leaned on the bar.

  “I’m tired of being alone,” Cade said. “Aren’t you?”

  She sighed, hating that she would have to be terribly blunt. “No.”

  He frowned.

  “Why does that surprise you?” she asked. “You know I love my life. I love going home to my apartment every night and eating what I want to eat, when I want to eat it. I love watching what I want to watch on T.V…?.”

  “You don’t ever get lonely? You never wake up at night in your empty bed and wonder if it’s always going to be that way?”

  She didn’t know what to say, because there were times when that exact thing happened—shadows on the pale walls, the inexplicable sense that she was genuinely alone.

  But then she would go right back to sleep, waking up to a new day, loving her life all over again, even as an itch of loneliness remained in the back of her mind…?.

  Still, there were good reasons she was never going to get married, and the biggest one was because of what she’d seen in her mom. Laila’s mother had tried her best not to show how life had let her down. Even though Mom loved all six of her children, Laila had seen how she had ordered college catalogues and paged through them with a slight, sad smile at the kitchen table after she thought all the kids were in bed. She’d heard Mom say on more than one occasion that she should’ve taken her studies more seriously and that Laila shouldn’t ever rely on her looks when she had such a brain.

  And she also knew that Mom had settled down young.

  Too young?

  Always wondering, never having the courage to ask, Laila had promised herself that she would give life a chance before getting serious with anyone, and she was damn happy with her decision as it stood.

  Right?

  She pushed aside her drink and rested her elbows on the table. “Loneliness is no reason to get married, Cade.”

  His jaw hardened as he surveyed her. Then, hardly swayed, he said, “We can learn to love each other… I can even give you children before it’s too late.”

  Oof.

  That really got her. But she wasn’t sure why Cade’s words smarted the way they did.

  Had she been thinking about her future lately, even beyond wrinkles, in a more profound way than she even admitted to herself? And, heck…

  She even wondered if she’d actually entered the Miss Frontier Days pageant for the final time because she’d needed some kind of reassurance that she was still young enough to be desirable, that she didn’t need to change her life and get validation from marriage or kids…

  Her throat felt tender as she tried to swallow. She didn’t like what she was thinking, and she wouldn’t let Cade’s words bother her. But how could she tell him that she didn’t feel more for him than companionship?

  Just as she was wishing again for that hole to open up in the ceiling, there was a stir in the Hitching Post as someone sauntered inside.

  As soon as she saw Jackson Traub bellying up to the bar in a dark brushed-twill coat with his Stetson pulled low over his brow, her body flared with heat.

  Star-spangly, popping, sizzling heat.

  Something she definitely didn’t feel for Cade.

  She must’ve been staring, and Jackson Traub must’ve felt it, because as he ordered a drink from the bartender, he pushed back his hat so she could see his brown gaze locking onto hers.

  Her heart seemed to shoot down to her belly, where it revolved, sending the rest of her topsy-turvy, too.

  She expected him to give her one of those grins he was so good at, expected him to maybe even wink as a reminder of the night he’d lightheartedly proposed like a scoundrel come out of nowhere.

  But he only turned back to the bartender as the man slid a glass of what looked to be straight-up whiskey to him.

  Jackson Traub scooped it right up, then downed it before ordering another, ignoring Laila as if nothing had ever passed between them.

  Baffled, she stared down at the table.

  Was he ignoring her?

  Or could it be that he really didn’t remember their “moment” at the pageant?

  Or maybe there just hadn’t been a “moment” for him…

  Rascal. He was truly making her wonder. But let him play his games. She’d been dating since sixteen, when her parents had finally allowed it after she’d blossomed early. She had a pretty good sense of when a man was interested or not.

  Still, she peered over at Jackson Traub again, just to see if he was looking.

  He wasn’t.

  “Laila?” Cade asked.

  He sounded offended that she’d mentally wandered from the conversation. In fact, he was looking more intense than ever—so much so that Laila sank into her chair, wishing fervently, once again, for that hole in the ceiling to appear, suck her up and take her away from all the truths Cade was making her face tonight.

  Jackson was a patient man.

  He was also mildly perceptive, if he did say so himself, and he knew when a woman—even a cool beauty queen like Laila Cates—was aware of his presence.

  As he nursed his second whiskey, he nodded to the man at the end of the bar, an acquaintance Jackson had met during his short time here. Woody Paulson, the manager of LipSmackin’ Ribs, a joint that didn’t so much compete with the rib restaurant of Jackson’s cousin, DJ, as stay in its shadow.

  Woody nodded back to Jackson, but the interaction didn’t take his mind off Laila. He wondered if she was still watching him, yet he refrained from taking a peek. Instead, he imagined her in that white evening gown, the first time he’d seen the infamous Thunder Canyon beauty in person, on the stage, her long, wavy blond hair silky under the crown she wore, her blue eyes bright, her skin smooth and pale as cream.

  A challenge if he ever met one.

  A woman he wanted with every beat of his pulse.

  He hadn’t initially come to Thunder Canyon for a good time, though. Months ago, it’d been his brother Corey’s wedding that had brought him here, and Jackson had stayed just long enough to throw a few punches during the reception before returning to his gentleman’s ranch in Midland, Texas, then back to work for the family oil business, where he spent the weekdays in his city penthouse.

  During the past few months, he’d been thinking hard about the mess he’d created up here in Montana during Corey’s nuptials. At first, Jackson had chalked it all up
to just being a bad day, and he’d had a few too many champagnes as well as a few too many thoughts about how his brothers seemed to be falling prey to marriage, an institution that Jackson had never cottoned to.

  So he’d spoken his mind at the reception, saying that matrimony was a great way to ruin a relationship. And, as if that wasn’t awful enough, he’d gone on to pretty much call his two married brothers wusses.

  He’d said that he would never change his life for a woman, and he’d damn well meant it.

  Needless to say, the brothers Traub hadn’t taken kindly to his opinions, and Jackson had left Thunder Canyon with his fists and face bruised, knowing that he’d gone too far. But he’d tried his best during his time away to think on how he was going to make it up to his family.

  Not only that—he’d really taken a good look at what he had or hadn’t accomplished during his thirty-four years here on earth, and he didn’t like the view much at all.

  That’s why, when his older brother Ethan stepped up his attempts to explore oil shale extraction opportunities, Jackson saw an opportunity not only to get into his family’s good graces again, but…

  Hell. In spite of his shortcomings, he loved his family more than anything, and he just wanted to make them see that he wasn’t a loser who would always start fistfights at weddings. The superficial guy who could be so much more than the company “schmoozer” who closed deals and wooed clients.

  So here he was, back in Thunder Canyon, convinced that he could finally put what brains he had to some use in getting this new branch of Traub Oil Industries started. He’d actually persuaded his brother, Ethan, that he could head up community outreach and education, since Traub Oil Montana was exploring new, more environmentally friendly ways of extraction at the Bakken Shale; he would also be working with the ranchers and landowners from whom the company had bought or leased rights.

  Even though Jackson wasn’t here for the long run, he was going to make his time in Thunder Canyon matter, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use a little entertainment while he was around…?.

  He finally took a sidelong glance at Laila Cates, but she’d gone back to her conversation with Cade Pritchett, whom Jackson only knew because of his outburst at the pageant. Honestly, Jackson had felt for the man after he’d shouted out that proposal. In fact, after Cade’s brother had come to his rescue with another marriage offer to Laila, Jackson had impulsively broken in with his own. It wasn’t so much for Cade’s sake as Laila’s because, even under her unruffled façade, Jackson had sensed how vexed Laila had seemed on that stage, and if there was one thing Jackson was, it was a sucker for a woman, especially one who seemed embarrassed that her big night had been shot to hell by an unexpected profession of devotion.

  He was pretty sure that someone like Laila was used to men falling all over her, although not in such a mortifyingly public way.

  And he wasn’t about to be like the other guys.

  At present, as Laila sat there looking as uncomfortable as all get out once again, Jackson could tell she was in another tight spot, that here was a woman who was just about telepathically asking anyone in the room to interrupt the conversation she was having.

  Now it wasn’t as if Jackson would’ve done what he did next if Laila hadn’t been providing a clear opening for him. If she was having a grand old time with her date, he would’ve stayed a mile away from her.

  But being the woman-loving sucker he was, he turned from the bar, getting an even better look at her. His heartbeat picked up.

  She was dressed as if she’d just come from work, in a stylish dark gray pinstriped suit, and her wavy mass of blond hair—shiny and silky enough to make his fingers itch to touch it—was swept up in a style that left some strands framing her face.

  And…that face.

  It belonged to a beauty queen, all right. High cheekbones, full red lips, long black lashes, delicate eyebrows and all.

  Now it was more than his heart that was thudding.

  To rescue her again or not to rescue her?

  There wasn’t much of a choice, and he left his whiskey glass at the bar as he crossed the floor.

  She seemed to know he was coming before he even got there, and that did something to him—riled him up inside, stretched a string of lit firecrackers through him.

  “Well,” he said as she parted her lips, as if to utter something before he beat her to it. “If it isn’t my bride-to-be.”

  Okay, there it was. If she gave any indication that he was intruding, he would go.

  He even gave her another chance to shoo him off. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything—”

  Cade and Laila spoke at the same time.

  “You are,” the man said.

  “You’re not,” she said.

  Jackson had sure called it correctly. And when Laila nudged a chair away from the table with her foot, she only emphasized the point.

  Had Cade proposed again to this woman who’d announced to the whole town that she Never. Wanted. To. Get. Married?

  Was that why she looked like a deer caught in the headlights?

  Cade had seen her pushing out the chair, too, but Jackson only tipped his hat to them both, then took a seat, signaling to a waitress who came right over, all smiles.

  “What can I do you for?” she asked.

  “A round of beers,” Jackson said. “On my tab.”

  When she scuttled off, she left a view of the bar, and Jackson couldn’t help but notice that many a male gaze was turned his way, obviously envious that he was sitting at Laila’s table. One man in particular—a cowboy with a chunky silver belt buckle and a mustache—watched Jackson for a moment too long before looking away.

  Cade’s voice rumbled. “Not tonight, Traub.”

  Jackson was checking in with Laila, whose smile was forced, even though it seemed to be asking him to stay, no matter what. Sure enough.

  When Jackson faced Cade, the man seemed likely to wring his neck, if the sight of his bunched fists on the tabletop meant anything.

  Time for some peace talk. “Just introducing myself around town.” He stuck out his hand for a shake. “You can call me Jackson.”

  “I know who you are.” Cade shot Laila a glance, and if it could speak, it would’ve said, You gonna do anything to get him out of here or should I?

  But when Laila only took a sip of the lemonade that had been waiting in front of her all this time, Cade stood, got out his wallet, then tossed some bills on the table.

  When he spoke, it was to Laila, and it was far quieter than Jackson expected.

  “Just think about what I said.”

  Then he was gone, leaving only the background murmur of bar discussion over the strains of Merle Haggard on the jukebox.

  The waitress came with the beers, and Jackson decided that if Cade wouldn’t be around to drink his, he would gladly do the honors.

  He didn’t make anything out of the sassy smile that the waitress gave him, instead taking a swig of his drink, then leaning back in his chair and grinning at Laila.

  There was a little beauty mark near the tip of her mouth, and he wished she would smile, just as prettily as she had on that stage last week. But he was out of luck. She only traced a pattern on the table from the condensation that had dropped down from the lemonade mug.

  “Was I in the wrong when I sat down here?” Jackson asked.

  “No, you weren’t. Thank you. It was one of those discussions. You know—the kind that you don’t want to have in the middle of a bar?”

  “Glad to have been of assistance.”

  She sighed, still tracing pictures on the table. Jackson couldn’t make hide nor hair of what she was drawing.

  “If he puts the moves on you again,” he said, meaning to cheer her up, “you just give a holler. He’s big, but I can take him.”

  There it was—a wisp of a smile now.

  “Truly,” he added. “I know how to dodge and weave. Also, I’ve got a twin back home who’s always willing to stand up for a la
dy, too.”

  “Good heavens—there’s more than one of you?”

  He chuckled. “I’m afraid so.” Getting even more comfortable, he propped his booted ankle just above his knee. “But Jason’s far less reckless. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”

  “I’d heard you’re a rebel, even before you showed up at the pageant to cause mischief.”

  He took that in stride. “Heard from who?”

  She had a flush on her cheeks, and it looked so sweet that Jackson’s veins tangled.

  “I’d heard,” she said, “just in general. Thunder Canyon’s a small town, so gossip travels.”

  “I know. That’s why I proposed to you, Miss Laila—because I’d heard you were the perfect woman for me.”

  Her gaze widened.

  He laughed. “You don’t have to say it again—the part about your never getting married. The message came through loud and clear at the pageant.”

  She blew out a breath, as if she’d been dreading having to repeat it to yet another suitor. It made him think that Cade’s pageant proposal had been much more than just an impetuous moment, that it bothered her far more than she’d let on in public.

  That she was just as determinedly single as he was?

  “I happen to agree 100 percent with you about the holy state of matrimony,” he said. “I’m not sure what the appeal is.”

  “Ask your brothers, Corey and Dillon. I’m sure they can wax on about it.”

  “No, thanks. It’s bad enough that Ethan just got engaged, too. I never thought I’d see him strapping himself to a ball and chain. All I can do now is hope that Jason and my sister, Rose, stick with me.”

  “You talk as if the rest of your family has abandoned you or something.”

  He paused. He’d never thought of it that way before, but that’s what he’d been feeling during Corey’s wedding—abandonment. Being left behind while everyone else traveled ahead to what were supposed to be bigger and better things in life.

  She seemed to realize that she’d hit some kind of target on him, whether he’d meant to show it or not.