Taming the Cowboy

by Aarsen, Carolyne

And once again Kinsley had to switch her thinking. She had been imagining the usual formal floral arrangements and bouquets from a florist shop, not leftovers and rejects from a local greenhouse.

  “You’re giving me that funny look again,” Faith was saying.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do that.” Kinsley gave her a quick smile. “It’s just something…different, and I have to wrap my head around that.”

  “That’s what I want for this wedding,” Faith said. “I want different. I want homey and easy to organize.”

  This wedding would be homey, but easy to organize was fading with each new curveball Faith threw at her.

  The truck delivering the buggy started up and drove away as Elliot came to join them.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Faith asked him.

  “Well, I was going to connect with Trent.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Excellent.” Faith smiled at him. “Can you get your truck and do a small chore for me right now?”

  Elliot nodded slowly, as if he was unsure of what Faith wanted now, and Kinsley wondered how “small” the chore would be if it required a truck.

  “I thought you and Kinsley could go to the nursery and pick up some pots of flowers for me.”

  “Me and Kinsley?” he said, not sounding too thrilled about the idea.

  “You’re not coming?” Kinsley asked Faith, not sure she wanted to spend an entire afternoon with Elliot when he didn’t seem to want to be around her either.

  Faith shook her head. “No. My grandfather needs me to stop by his office before I go for my dress fitting.”

  “Wedding dress fitting?”

  “Yeah.” Faith shot her a bemused glance as if wondering what other possible dress she would be talking about.

  “Shouldn’t I come along for that?” Kinsley, once again, fought her frustration. Faith was throwing wedding stuff at her left and right and she couldn’t seem to get her bearings.

  “No. I thought I had to take care of that. Besides, I’m getting a local seamstress to make it.”

  Oh dear. In-laws and ex-girlfriends of the best man catering, old wagons, homemade dresses, leftover flowers. How would this all turn out?

  “Would you mind sending me a photo of the dress?” Kinsley asked, pushing down a beat of panic. “Just so I can get an idea of where you’re going in terms of style?”

  “Sure. No problem.” Faith glanced at her phone again. “My grandfather is getting antsy. I should go.” She looked from Elliot to Kinsley. “So, you two will take care of picking up the plants from the greenhouse?”

  “I still think you should come along,” Kinsley said.

  “That’s okay. I trust your taste.”

  Taste wasn’t her concern as much as selection. “And what about your bouquet? And the ones for the bridesmaids?”

  Faith pulled her mouth to one side, as if thinking, and for a panicky moment Kinsley imagined herself wandering through fields of daisies gathering flowers for the bouquets and boutonnieres.

  “Why don’t I meet you at Carmen’s in town?” she asked. “Elliot can drop you off there after you get the plants, we can go talk to the Mia Verbeek, the florist, and I can bring you back here.”

  “Or I could just take my car.” Kinsley figured she could make quick work of picking out the plants and then she and Elliot could go their separate ways.

  “No. Then you’d have to follow Elliot and find your way there…” Faith scrunched up her face. “Just go with Elliot. That’ll work best.”

  Kinsley wanted to protest once more but figured that would only draw attention to her reluctance to be with Elliot.

  “Okay. We can do this.” She gave Elliot a tight smile and was rewarded with a lackadaisical shrug.

  She wasn’t sure why Faith thought the two of them working together was a good idea. So far, she wasn’t impressed and, she guessed, neither was Elliot.

  Chapter 5

  Be mature. Be responsible.

  Elliot repeated the words to himself as he turned on the radio in his truck.

  Kinsley sat on the seat beside him, her manicured hands tapping away on her phone. Today she was back to heels, which surprised him. It hadn’t been hard to see the faint hitch in her step as she tried to navigate the lawn the other day.

  “So what are you working on now?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

  “Just trying to plan out the actual service. I’m hoping to meet with the pastor in the next couple days, but he hasn’t been answering my emails or phone calls.”

  “So who is the pastor at the church right now?”

  “You don’t know?” Kinsley shot him a puzzled look.

  He answered her question with a shrug. “Haven’t been for a while. Not exactly living the kind of life that God would approve of.”

  “And what kind of life is that?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer her. Wasn’t sure she would want to be faced with the reality of his choices. Wasn’t sure he wanted to look at it that closely himself.

  “Just haven’t been to church for a long time. And rodeo life doesn’t lend itself to a strong spiritual experience.” He neglected to add the fact that cowboy church was offered every weekend and that one of his fellow competitors had often encouraged him to come.

  “I’m sure God would love to see you again,” Kinsley said. Her reply surprised him.

  “I take it you go to church regularly?”

  “I need to. I need the strength I get from being around fellow believers, from worshiping, to get through the week. I’m always thankful to be reminded of God’s love.”

  He glanced at her, surprised at the look of quiet peace in her expression. How sincere she sounded.

  “Well I haven’t had a lot of reminders of that, have I?” he said, unable to keep the bitter tone out of his voice as he turned his attention back to his driving.

  “What do you mean?”

  “All that talk about God as a loving father, kinda hard to jive with what my life’s been like.” As soon as the words left his lips, he wished he hadn’t said them. But something about her quiet questions seemed to draw the words out of him.

  “And what’s your life been like?”

  He gave her a cynical smile. “You really missed your calling. Are you sure you shouldn’t be a reporter?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “And there you go again, answering a question with a question.”

  “Actually that’s part of my job. I need to ask a lot of questions to find out where brides want to go with their wedding.”

  “Well I’m sure you’re fantastic at that.”

  “I can be.” But her sigh and the way she bit her lip seemed to show otherwise.

  “You seem unsure.”

  “I just wish…the wagon…and…” She lifted her hand as if to stop anything further she might have to say.

  “We didn’t have to work with the horses?” he finished for her.

  Another sigh and then a quick nod. “I once planned a wedding for a woman who insisted on having her dog pull her niece in a wagon down the aisle. It didn’t turn out well. And horses are a lot bigger.”

  “And based on our initial meeting, you seem afraid of them.”

  She pressed her lips together and folded her hands on her lap, her knuckles white with tension.

  He waited, the only sound in the truck the muted twang of country music from the radio.

  “Yes. I am,” she said finally.

  “Why?”

  Another beat of silence.

  “I’m taking a chance and guessing that your limp has something to do with it?” he asked.

  “That is none of your business,” she snapped, rounding on him, her eyes flashing. “You have no right…” She let the sentence trail off, looking ahead, her chin up, her position defiant.

  Guess he was right.

  He knew he shouldn’t have pushed, but he was trying to find out more about her.
Especially seeing that Faith was determined to use the horses. He didn’t want to deal with any issues that might arise with Kinsley.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to pry. Just…well…wanting to get to know you better.”

  She gave him a wry look. “And why would you want to do that? I’m no one special.” Her voice held a self-deprecating tone that surprised him and, if he were honest, bothered him.

  “We’ll be spending the next couple of weeks together. Just thought it might ease some tension between us. I know you’re not too crazy about hanging out with me and, once again, I apologize for almost running you over with my horse and ruining your camera.”

  “Actually, it’s fine. It’s water resistant, as the salesman told me it would be. Besides, it’s not the only camera I brought along.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. I’d hate to think I’d have to replace it.”

  “From the way Faith talks about how much you make, the cost of my camera wouldn’t put much of a dent in your earnings.”

  “I do okay compared to my competitors. A win at the CFR would bring me in some serious money.” He shot her a grin. “Almost as much as you make.”

  “I do okay as well,” she returned with a wry smile. “Don’t know if I need serious money as much as a steady job.”

  “And what would that steady job look like?” He slowed down as he came to the outskirts of town, looking out for the sign for the greenhouse.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m truly interested,” he said, shooting her another glance as he turned off the main road into town.

  She hesitated a moment as if unsure of herself.

  “Really,” he added, puzzled at her reticence.

  “Okay. I’d like to be full partners in a wedding planning business. Faith’s wedding is my first solo project, and if it goes well, I’ll have a shot at that partnership.”

  “Ahh, I see. So there’s a lot at stake for you with this wedding.”

  “Yes. And I’m still concerned about the horses, regardless of how I feel about them. Animals in a wedding, no matter how large or small, are problematic.”

  “I have to admit I see your point,” Elliot agreed. “I know our horses, and they’re well-trained, but we’d have to run them through their paces a few times before they’re comfortable. And that buggy isn’t ready to use yet.”

  “So you agree we shouldn’t use the horses?” She sounded relieved.

  “I didn’t say that. And if you’re angling for a partnership, just think how having something like a horse-drawn buggy in a wedding would look on your résumé.”

  “I’m thinking of what having a bride break her neck in a runaway wagon would look like on my résumé.”

  Her candor made him laugh.

  “You don’t have to go to disaster mode right away,” he said, still chuckling.

  “It’s part of my job. Imagine the worst thing that can happen and then try to prevent that.”

  Elliot understood her reasoning, but he knew Faith wouldn’t budge. He just had to get Kinsley on board with the whole idea.

  “I’m guessing this is the greenhouse?” Kinsley asked as Elliot pulled into a parking lot by a group of clear Quonset huts.

  “She’s smart, and good-looking,” Elliot said with a grin.

  He got out of the truck and sauntered around to her side, reaching for the door handle just as she opened it herself.

  “You don’t have to help me out,” she snapped, reverting immediately to the old Kinsley.

  “Actually, I was going to open the door for you,” Elliot said disappointed at her sudden defensiveness. “Just like my mother taught me to.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have made that assumption.”

  She got out of the truck, but it took her a while. Elliot pretended to be checking his phone while she did, guessing she didn’t like him watching how awkward it was for her. And as she did, he realized why she had pushed to take her car.

  “So do you have any idea of what Faith is looking for?” Elliot asked, letting Kinsley go ahead of him, slowing his pace to match hers.

  “That’s why she hired me,” Kinsley said, glancing around at the buckets overflowing with colorful flowers. “I’m the one that’s supposed to have the ideas.”

  “Lead the way then,” Elliot said.

  Once inside the greenhouse Kinsley slipped into professional mode. She pulled her phone out of her large purse, swiped the screen, and glanced at some notes she had made.

  They walked up and down a few of the aisles, all of them so full of flowers Elliot wondered if the owner had sold anything yet this year.

  “Can I help you?” Adelle Rosychuk, the owner of the greenhouse, joined them. Elliot remembered her from the days he did attend church.

  Kinsley tapped her phone against her chin as if considering her question. She paused a moment, then pointed at a wooden planter filled with blue and white flowers.

  “Do you have another one of those?”

  “Yes, I do. I have two more. You'll need to trim the petunias down, but they're still good.”

  “Excellent. We’ll take all of them.”

  Kinsley pointed out a few more buckets, asked a few more questions, and Elliot just followed them. It was interesting watching Kinsley work. Her defensiveness had dropped away, and she was very much in charge of the situation. And she seemed to know exactly what she wanted.

  An hour later Elliot, Adelle, and a few staff members had loaded up all the flowerpots and planters Kinsley had chosen. They filled up the back of his truck.

  “This looks like way more than we need,” Elliot said as he covered them with a tarp to prevent them getting damaged on the way home.

  “You’ll be surprised once we set them out in the yard. It won’t look like near as many.”

  “I guess you’re the expert.” He tied up the tarp, snugging the straps and glancing up at the low-hanging clouds. Kane wouldn’t be thrilled with the coming storm. “We need to get going if we want to meet Faith on time. And, if it’s okay with you, I’ll be the gentleman my mother raised me to be.”

  Her response was a quick smile. One of the first genuine ones he’d seen from her yet.

  He opened the door and had to resist the urge to hold out his hand to help her into the truck. She slung her purse over her shoulder and, to his surprise, got in the truck with no trouble.

  “I’m not so helpless after all,” Kinsley said, her voice holding a sardonic tone, as if she noticed his surprise.

  “I would be if I wore that skirt and those shoes,” was his reply, choosing to avoid the obvious.

  Her expression softened at his comment. “It’s all part of the uniform.”

  “If you say so. I prefer blue jeans and plaid shirts myself.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” she returned, taking in his shirt and faded denims.

  He laughed, closed her door, and made his way around the truck. Somehow, he felt as if he had passed some kind of unknown test.

  As he started the engine, he glanced her way and was surprised to see her looking directly at him. Their eyes held a moment longer than necessary and, to his consternation, he felt a slow lift of his heart.

  Her expression grew serious, and she was the first to break the connection.

  Elliot spun the steering wheel, frustrated with the emotions she raised in him.

  Emotions he had no room—or time—for.

  * * *

  Elliot parked on the main street of town, walked around the truck and, before she could stop him, once again held the truck door open for her. And once again Kinsley was strangely touched by the polite gesture. She knew it was simply habit, and despite her initial annoyance with Elliot’s behavior, she couldn’t help the tiny thrill his actions gave her.

  Not to mention the look they had shared in the truck.

  She shook off unwelcome distraction and walked into the coffeehouse, determined to be more discreet and self-disciplined. />
  Sure, he was good-looking. Tall, broad shouldered, and confident. Sure, he had a way of looking at you as if you were special, but she could not allow herself to be sidetracked by a charming man again.

  “Good afternoon, Kinsley. Nice to see you again. What can I get for you?”

  As she was greeted by Carmen who, at one time, had dated the man behind her, she was reminded once again why she had to be careful. Carmen was petite, brunette, and absolutely adorable with large brown eyes and a smile you couldn’t help return. Plus, she was a genuinely sweet and kind person.

  “I’ll have a black slow roast coffee and whatever you recommend for a snack,” Kinsley said.

  “I’d try the lemon cookies.” Elliot, who had come up beside her, rubbed his stomach. “A recipe handed down from Carmen’s mother, who is as fantastic a cook and baker as she is. And almost as good-looking.”

  Carmen rolled her eyes. “Oh, you old smoothie,” she said. “But yeah, the lemon cookies are good. Elliot’s favorite. Sweet and sour at the same time.”

  “Nice,” was all Elliot said.

  Kinsley thought of the comments Zach and Kane had made about Carmen and Elliot. How they had dated at one time.

  But Elliot seemed comfortable around her.

  “So I hear you’re dating some guy named Brent?” Elliot asked, leaning on the counter and giving her a lazy smile.

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

  “Oh, look at her blush,” Elliot teased.

  Carmen shot him a warning look, but Kinsley saw the humor in her dark brown eyes.

  “I’m happy for you, sweetie,” Elliot said, no trace of rancor in his voice. “You deserve someone who’ll stick around and take care of you. Does he have decent parents?”

  Carmen’s expression softened. “He does. He comes from a good family. You know, you do too.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  Which made Kinsley sense there was history behind that comment.

  Carmen turned to Kinsley. “Sorry about the chitchat. I’ll get your order together.” She glanced at Elliot again. “I’m guessing you’ll have the same as Kinsley.”

  “Seems we share a love of slow roast coffee and lemon cookies.” Elliot looked over at Kinsley with a smile. He pulled out his wallet. “I got this.”