Wish Upon a Cowboy

by Jennie Marts

  “Thanks. If you want to wash up, I’ll just get these sheets in the washing machine and then I can make you a plate.” She breezed past him, leaving the slightest scent of vanilla and something floral in her wake.

  “Sure.” He crossed to the sink, tilting his body just the slightest to watch her walk into the laundry room on the other side of the kitchen. She turned and caught him looking right before she bent forward to load the washing machine.

  Ah hell. He whipped his head away and focused on the sink as he quickly turned on the faucet. A skillet of gravy simmered on the stove next to a pan of scrambled eggs. But otherwise, the rest of the kitchen was clean. The fixtures and sink where he washed his hands gleamed from a recent scrubbing. The floors had been swept and mopped, and he figured she must be on her second load of laundry because the scent of laundry detergent hung in the air.

  The coffeepot was full, but she’d already cleaned the cup he’d used that morning. He saw the red cup his dad typically used sitting on the counter, and it made him laugh that Harper had chosen that cup to drink from. It was a funny one Quinn had given him years ago and had an old man riding a tractor on the side with the caption “This is how I roll.”

  Logan grabbed a clean cup from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. He could tell from the smell she made it strong, just the way he liked it. “Thanks for making more coffee,” he called toward the laundry room. “Want me to pour you another cup?”

  “I’m good,” she said, coming back into the kitchen. “Besides, I’m supposed to be serving you.”

  “That’s not part of the deal. I didn’t hire you to be waitstaff. You’ve already made this great meal. I can make my own dang plate.” He filled his plate but noticed there was only one on the counter. “And I’m not real keen on eating it while you stand there and watch me.”

  “Oh sorry,” she stammered, dropping the dish towel she’d picked up. “I can go clean another part of the house.”

  “Lord, woman, that’s not what I meant.” He set his plate on the table, cursing himself for coming off like such an idiot. “I wasn’t trying to tell you to leave me alone. I guess I was rather clumsily inviting you to eat with me. But I apparently butchered the offer. Let me try again.” He pulled out the chair next to him. “Harper, will you please join me for breakfast?”

  She smiled. “How can I refuse such an articulate offer?” She pulled a plate from the cupboard and tipped a spoonful of eggs onto it.

  “Exactly.” Logan chuckled as he dropped into his chair, then took a bite of biscuit covered in sausage gravy and let out a groan. “Dang, that’s good gravy.” He sampled the eggs, noting the ribbons of melted cheddar running through them. “And these eggs are great too. Second meal in a row you’ve knocked out of the park.”

  “They’re nothing special. Just a few eggs and some cheese.” She kept her eyes trained on the table as she slid into the chair next to him, but he noticed the slightest trace of a smile, and it had his insides going soft.

  He swallowed and dragged his gaze away from her mouth. “So to keep me from looking like an inarticulate fool again, can we just assume from now on that I’d like for you to join me and have us eat these nice meals you’ve prepared together—like at the same table, at the same time? Unless you don’t want to, of course. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Oh geez, why did his tongue keep tripping over his teeth? It was as if his brain and his mouth couldn’t seem to get it together to express a logical thought.

  “It’s kind of making me uncomfortable right now watching you stumble through those last few statements.” She shook her head and let out a soft chuckle. “How about I stop you now and just plan to set a place for myself to eat with you?”

  “That’d be great.” Logan stuffed another bite into his mouth to keep from saying anything more.

  Ever since he woke up, his stomach had been flipping and flopping around like a hooked fish on the bank. It was something about her eyes, the way they flashed with humor one second, then went dark with mystery the next. And the way she moved had his hands itching to slide over her curves. She walked with purpose, a kind of tough-girl swagger, in her black boots and faded jacket, but she also had a softness to her, and he caught himself watching her when she wasn’t looking and admiring the subtle sway of her hips as she worked.

  Maybe his brain was stuck on the image of her the night before when he’d come in and caught her dancing and singing at the stove. She’d been so uninhibited, her body loose and relaxed. Free was the only way he could describe it, but it made him want to know more about that woman, the one who swayed and sang as she stirred not just the gravy, but also something in him.

  She came across as friendly and professional, but still guarded, as though she held her cards pretty close to the vest. Which only made him want to peer behind the curtain to see what she was hiding. But it was more than that. Something in him had felt a spark when he’d met her, and he wanted to get to know her, to understand what made her tick. And yeah, he liked the idea of being able to win her over, to get her to let her guard down and to be the guy she felt that loose and comfortable with.

  Which was crazy. Why should she trust him? They barely knew each other. And he didn’t trust easily, especially when it was obvious a woman had something to hide. He could tell by the way her eyes slid to a far-off place when she didn’t know he was watching her or the way she was so quick to change the subject or divert his attention when he asked her anything about herself. He might not be the smartest guy when it came to numbers and math, but he could read people, and he knew there was more to Harper Evans than she was letting on.

  Her eyes narrowed just the slightest, and she tilted her head as she regarded him. He swore she was reading his mind. Which would not be a good thing, especially if she could see those thoughts he’d been having of her in his shower, with their boots and the rest of their clothes flung across the floor of his bedroom.

  “Why don’t you tell me more about how I can help with the hay this morning?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Good idea. He was thankful to be on more solid conversational ground and to have something to get his mind off ditching the cattle and carrying this woman into his bedroom. Using the placemat, his unused spoon, the napkin holder, and the salt and pepper shakers, he fashioned a semi-accurate map of the pastures and gates they’d pass through.

  “The most important responsibility I have right now is keeping those cattle fed and alive through the winter,” he told her. “We grow some crops and have a few side hustles as well, but our main livelihood comes from that herd. So I’ll make sure they’re fed and taken care of before I ever worry about putting a bite of food into my own mouth.”

  She nodded, her expression conveying the solemnness of his words. “I understand. I know what it’s like to depend on a job for your livelihood, and I meant it when I said I’m willing to pitch in and help. I know this job is temporary, but I’m grateful to have it, and like I said, I’m not afraid of hard work. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get the job done.”

  He nodded. “You’ve proved that already.” The more he talked to her, the more he liked this woman—liked her work ethic and her no-nonsense approach to getting things accomplished. It was obvious from what she’d done in the house this morning and the night before that she was a hard worker and good at getting multiple tasks done at the same time.

  Yeah, okay, so there were a few things he liked about her other than just her work ethic—her feisty spirit, gorgeous green eyes, and the way she filled out her jeans came to mind—but he was choosing not to focus on those. Thinking about those things would only get him in trouble.

  Harper might be gorgeous, and having her in his house stirred things inside him that hadn’t been truly stirred in a very long time, but there was nothing he could do about it. She’d just reminded him the job was temporary, so she wouldn’t be sticking around anyway. She’d probably be gon
e by Christmas, so no point starting something that would only last a few weeks. And in less than a day, she’d already proven her worth, and she was too valuable an asset for him to lose with one quick roll in the hay.

  It was nuts that he was even considering the notion. He’d fired the last two women for wanting this exact thing, and here he was, imagining himself playing house with Harper and getting her naked and into his arms and his bed. And on the sofa. And in his shower.

  “Do you want to go feed the cows now,” she asked. “Or do I have time to wash up the breakfast dishes?”

  “I’ve got a couple of calls to make,” he told her. “Should take me about twenty minutes. Can you finish up and be ready to go by then?”

  “Perfect.”

  Logan carried his plate to the sink, then refilled his coffee before crossing to the den. French doors separated the home office from the kitchen. He and Ham shared the room, using it for ranch business, and it had a masculine feel to it. The walls were painted a deep blue, and a tall gun case sat in one corner next to oak bookshelves filled with Farmers’ Almanacs, agriculture reports, and old westerns. An aerial photo of the ranch hung from the wall, something Ham had bought from a traveling salesman when Logan and Quinn were kids.

  A heavy wooden desk took up the center of the room, and Logan slid into the big leather chair behind it. He set his coffee on top of the safe next to the desk where they kept some cash and important ranch documents and then fired up the computer.

  He answered a couple of emails, ordered some grain, and checked in with his dad. Swallowing the last dregs of his coffee, Logan headed back into the cleaned kitchen and found Harper folding a basket full of towels at the table.

  “You ready to go?” he asked.

  “Sure. I can finish these when we get back.” She pulled her jacket off the hook by the door and shoved her arms through the sleeves.

  Logan eyed the cloudy sky and the spits of snow floating in the air. “My truck’s got a good heater, but I’m worried that jacket’s not going to be enough to keep you warm.” He tossed her the Carhartt coat he’d been wearing that morning. “Take this. It’s got a sherpa lining. Should keep you good and toasty. And you’re gonna need these.” He handed her a pair of winter gloves.

  She held the coat and gloves, not moving to put them on. “You don’t have to loan me all your stuff. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m pretty tough.”

  “You can be tough—and warm. I need you focused on driving, not on your shivering hands. I can’t have you pitching me out the back of the truck with the hay bales.” He offered her a grin, trying to make light of the situation.

  “But what about you?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of winter gear around here.” He grabbed another coat from the hooks and pushed his hat on his head. A basket of hats, gloves, and scarves sat behind the door, and he rummaged through the contents, then pulled out a blue stocking cap. “You can take this as well. It was one of my sister’s.”

  Harper had pulled on the coat and stuffed the gloves in the pocket. It was a little big, but it would do the job. And he liked seeing her in his jacket. She tugged the ponytail holder from her hair, then took the hat and pulled it on as well. The blue of the hat brought out the emerald in her eyes.

  Since when did he notice how winter gear affected the color of anyone’s eyes? Dang, he was getting soft. He held the front door for her, then led the way to the truck and opened the driver’s side door. “I’ll let you drive us out to the pasture so I can get the gates.”

  “Nice truck,” she said, sliding past him and climbing into the cab.

  He shrugged but was secretly pleased with the compliment. He loved that truck. He’d saved up for it for years, and it had been the first big purchase he’d made on his own, without the help of his dad.

  He climbed into the other side as Harper held up the bag of marshmallows that had been sitting in the middle of the seat.

  “Are these your afternoon snack?” she asked, her voice playful.

  “Nah, those are for my girlfriend. She loves them.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Her smile fell, and she set the marshmallows back on the seat.

  He held back a chuckle as he leaned forward and tuned the radio to a popular station.

  They listened to music and didn’t talk much as they drove down the dirt road that led to the south pasture, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. The marshmallows seemingly forgotten, Harper was busy concentrating on the road, and he was busy trying not to concentrate on her. Even though he sat on one side of the bench seat and she sat on the other, he was all too aware of her nearness and the way her body moved as the truck bounced over the ruts and washboard grooves in the road.

  “I thought there would be more snow up here,” Harper said, peering at the pasture as they approached. “We have a ton in Kansas, and it drifts up past our shoulders.”

  “We don’t get as many drifts in the mountains because we have so many trees. And Colorado is famous for its sunshine. We can get dumped on with a huge storm, and then a few days later, the sun comes out and melts most of it away. That’s why our snow usually looks so pristine and white.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  You’re beautiful. The thought popped into his head before he could stop it. He didn’t have the time or inclination to be paying any mind to what she looked like, but damn it, she was beautiful. Even in his too-big jacket with a stocking cap pulled down over her ears, she was gorgeous. The cold air had given her cheeks a hint of color, and her eyes were bright with wonder as she gazed over the clearing in the mountain.

  The road was a little steep through this part, and they were almost to the gate when two deer leapt out from behind the trees and ran right in front of the truck.

  Chapter 6

  Logan saw the deer, but it was too late to shout a warning.

  Harper hit the brakes, simultaneously shooting out her arm and pressing her palm to his chest in a mock-seat-belt move as they pitched forward.

  The truck shuddered to a stop, narrowly missed the deer, and she turned to him, her eyes wide. Realizing her arm was still pinned across his chest, she snatched it back. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Are you?”

  “I’m okay.” Her knuckles were white as she used both hands to grip the steering wheel. She cringed as she glanced at his chest. “I can’t believe I just pulled that mom move on you. I’m so embarrassed.”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. My mom used to do that move too.”

  She blinked, then shook her head. “Yeah. That’s what I meant. Mine did as well. That must be where I learned it. Weird.”

  “Nah. I thought it was kind of sweet.” He offered her a charming grin. “It’s nice that you were trying to protect me.”

  Her lips curved into a smile, and a touch of mischief flashed in her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to protect you. I was trying to protect that pretty dashboard. I’d feel awful if it got blood on it.”

  He chuckled. “Nice. And good thinking. I appreciate you protecting the truck. But next time, just hit the deer. If you clip a big one, we make it last for several meals.”

  “Eww,” she said, swatting him on the shoulder before inching the truck forward the last few feet to the gate.

  Logan chuckled again as he climbed from the cab. “What? You don’t know how to make roadkill stew? What kind of a cook are you?” He was still laughing as he opened the gate and waved her through. He never had this much fun with Ted.

  He closed the gate and approached her window. They’d mapped out a plan, but he wanted to point out the route while she could see the pasture instead of imagining it as a napkin holder and a salt shaker.

  She rolled down the window, and he leaned his head toward hers as he pointed out over the landscape. “You can kind of see the route we usually take. When you stop,
I’ll push the bail out, then bang on the side of the truck when I’m secure and you can keep going.”

  “Got it. I’ll do my best not to pitch you over the side.”

  He tipped the brim of his hat and grinned. “I’d appreciate it.”

  Her gaze shifted to over his shoulder, and her eyes went wide. “Logan, watch out,” she cried.

  He turned to see a large black cow running toward him. Several cows were following in her wake. He stepped forward as the cow slowed to a stop in front of him. “Hey, darlin’. How’s my girl?” he asked as the cow nudged his chest. The other cows had stopped a reasonable distance back, but they all knew they were about to be fed.

  He stroked the small, white star-shaped patch on the cow’s forehead, then turned to Harper. “Hey, will you pass me those marshmallows?”

  A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she handed the bag through the window. “I thought those were for your girlfriend.”

  “They are. This is Star. She’s my best girl.” He tore open a corner of the bag, then held out a handful of marshmallows to the cow. Her tongue pressed from between her lips and wrapped around the marshmallows, drawing them back into her mouth. “I’ve had her since she was born. She was a runt that nobody thought would live. I bucket fed her and practically slept in her stall, and I guess you could say we bonded. She’ll even come when I whistle or call for her, or sometimes she’ll just come running if she smells me.”

  “If she smells you?”

  “Yeah. Cows have an amazing sense of smell. They can detect scents up to five miles away.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Cows are pretty smart. I don’t think they get enough credit.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He chuckled, then fed Star another handful of marshmallows before passing the bag back to Harper. “You can have some of those if you want. Star’s a sweetheart. She’ll share.”