Big-Hearted Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond

  “Then nothing makes sense.” Nick’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Don’t women love it when we vacuum and stuff?”

  “Generally they do,” Leo said. “Maybe you should have timed it so she could watch you muscle that bad boy around the house.”

  “Who knows? She wasn’t happy about me cleaning when she wasn’t there, that’s for sure. And the other day she accused me of being the Lone Ranger.”

  Rafe peered at him. “Why?”

  Damn. He hadn’t meant for that to get out. “I, um, got pulled over coming home on the 89. Wouldn’t let her share the blame.”

  Rafe’s eyes widened. “Why’d you get pulled over?”

  “Speeding.”

  They gasped in unison.

  “No big deal.”

  Nick’s mouth was still open. “How fast?”

  “About twenty over.”

  Rafe studied him. “This is more serious than I thought. You’re in love with that woman.”

  “No, I’m not. I just—”

  “Rafe’s right, bro.” Nick eyed him intently. “That must have been the day you went to Great Falls for the hay nets and the cookies. Am I right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I remember thinking you were falling for her. We were shooting the breeze about this and that. Then I mentioned Millie and your whole expression changed.”

  “It’s not love.” Jake tugged his hat lower. “It’s just… you know… sex.”

  “It’s way more than that,” Leo said. “You’ve had girlfriends before. This is different. I think we’ve all seen it, but with Garrett around, we don’t talk like we used to.”

  “And we still can’t,” Rafe said. “Which is why we’re out here freezing our asses by the woodpile. It’s a family matter.”

  Jake met Rafe’s gaze. “I know, which makes this tough.”

  “Let me ask you this. Do you want it to be over?”

  He sighed. “It isn’t going to work, Rafe. She wants us to function as a team.” He gestured toward them. “Like the Brotherhood does.”

  He nudged back his hat. “There’s a major problem with that concept. Millie’s—”

  “A woman.” Jake grimaced. “I’ve noticed.”

  “Me, too,” Nick said. “I mean, not noticed like I was checking her out. I wouldn’t do that, but women, Millie included, are different from us.”

  Leo rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

  “For your information, Leo, I’m not talking about physical differences, although there are plenty of those. I’m saying their behavior is different, too. Personally, I like that about ’em.”

  “I do, too,” Jake said. “Or I did, until tonight.”

  Rafe shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’ve learned this about women—you think they’re mad at you for one thing and it turns out to be something else entirely. Did you screw up without realizing it?”

  “Hey, Rafe.” Nick looked at him. “How’s he supposed to know if he screwed up if he didn’t realize it?”

  “Occasionally, Nicholas, some of us can remember the screw-up upon further contemplation. Maybe if Jake recollects his actions over the past three days, he’ll have an aha moment.”

  “Except he won’t go aha,” Leo said. “That’s when you have a brilliant idea. When you remember a screw-up, it’s an oh, crap moment.”

  “We’re veering off the subject.” Rafe turned to Jake. “What about it? Anything coming to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then let’s revisit the previous question. Do you want to end it?”

  “No, damn it! But I don’t know what to do!”

  Rafe’s attention swung to Nick and Leo. “Now that Matt’s coming home, we need to call a meeting of the Brotherhood tomorrow and brainstorm this problem. Without Garrett.”

  “I’ll arrange that,” Nick said. “I’ll ask him to get more chicken breasts at the market so we can have them again Saturday night. Those were good eats.” He turned to Jake. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “I’ll ask Henri to give him another errand in town,” Leo said. “Can I tell her why?”

  Rafe nodded. “She’ll be on board. By morning she’ll know about this, anyway. Jake, you okay with us butting into your personal business?”

  His chest swelled with gratitude as he gazed at his brothers. “Yeah. I need all the help I can get. But this talk has built up a powerful thirst. I could use an ice-cold brew. Or three.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Leo said.

  “Me, too.” Rafe started back around the house. “I’ll have to stick with one, though. I’m picking up Matt and Lucy tonight.”

  “Want me to ride along? I’ll lay off the booze if you need company.”

  Rafe shot him a grin. “Nah. I don’t think you should be dealing with two blissed-out honeymooners tonight. Drink as much as you need.”

  “Cookies work great, too,” Nick said. “Unfortunately, CJ and I ate all the ones you brought.”

  “No worries.” Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “I prefer to drown my sorrows in booze.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Millie had read plenty of books in which the broken-hearted heroine couldn’t bring herself to touch a bite once the blow had fallen. She suspected those ladies had consumed a large meal before the heartbreaking incident, which would explain their lack of appetite.

  She, on the other hand, hadn’t eaten much of anything since breakfast. She devoured two large chicken breasts and most of the salad Jake had left in the fridge. He’d probably planned on serving a veggie, too, but she wasn’t up to cooking. Just eating.

  And drinking. She had one hard cider with dinner and followed it up with another one in front of the fire. Jake had arranged logs on the grate and stuffed a bunch of crumpled newspaper underneath. The fire roared to life with a single match. That cowboy knew his way around a fireplace.

  And a kitchen. And a bedroom. Now there was a depressing prospect. She was more than happy to eat the food he’d fixed, but climbing into the bed they’d shared would be a way bigger challenge.

  She wasn’t up to it tonight. She’d be on the couch, instead. Sure, he’d made love to her there, but only once.

  Her fancy king bed, though… it had been the scene of countless… ah, better not go down that bunny trail. Her dream bed might be forever compromised. Which sucked.

  So many things sucked regarding the present state of affairs. At the top of the list? She’d have to see him almost every damned day from now until one of them croaked.

  Until death do you part. Ha, ha. They wouldn’t be married to each other, but they were both hitched to the Buckskin. Had she fully appreciated that fact before starting this program? No, not really.

  Naïve and optimistic, that was her. She’d been so convinced they could make a go of it given a chance. This week had been that chance.

  Even now, their spectacular crash and burn wasn’t real to her. The shock of it didn’t register until she forced herself to go into the bedroom for the quilt and a pillow. He’d turned down the sheets and left a piece of chocolate on her pillow.

  Gasping and fighting tears, she ran out of there like her hair was on fire. No. No, damn it. This couldn’t be happening. It was a bad dream. She’d wake up any minute, now.

  She took a blanket and pillow from Kate’s bed, got another cider, and built up the fire. Sleeping in her clothes would be extremely uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going back in that room to get a nightgown. Not tonight.

  Halfway through the cider, drowsiness overtook her. She was such a lightweight. And so damned tired. No wonder, considering the wedding, the revelation about Jake’s marriage fears, and the resulting experiment in cohabitation that had morphed into a royal fustercluck.

  Leaving the bottle on the coffee table, she checked the fire. Almost out. If only the burning sensation in her chest would be that cooperative. She replaced the screen and returned to the couch.

&nbs
p; Stripping down to her bra and panties, she snuggled under the blanket and burrowed into the pillow. She reached for the switch on the table lamp beside the couch and clicked off the light. Moments later, she turned it back on. Darkness was not her friend.

  But sleep might be. She didn’t have to set an alarm. All her hard work today meant she had less to do in the morning. She could sleep in. Whoopee.

  The click of a key in the lock jerked her awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Why was there light outside the window? And why was Jake standing in the doorway looking like death warmed over?

  His gravelly voice matched his unshaven chin and bleary eyes. “I thought you’d be gone.”

  “What time is it?” She didn’t sound all that great, either.

  “Nine-thirty.”

  “In the morning?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took off his hat and ran his hands through his unruly hair. “You’re usually out of here by nine.”

  “Not today.”

  “I see that.” He put his hat on again and his gaze flicked over her.

  Oh, yeah. She was wearing her undies. She pulled the blanket up and tucked it under her armpits. “You look like hell, Jake.”

  “Can’t imagine why.” His grin flashed, his teeth white against his bristle, almost a typical Jake smile. Except there was no light in his eyes. “I feel terrific.”

  “I’m glad for you.”

  “Why are you on the couch?”

  “What are you doing in my house?”

  “Came by to get my stuff.” He rubbed his chin. “Realized it was all still here when I couldn’t find my shaving kit.”

  “Oh. Right.” Her grand plan to make his exit complicated had failed. He’d simply left everything and walked right out the door. She gestured toward the hall. “Have at it.”

  “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “None of your beeswax.”

  He gazed at her a moment longer. Then he broke eye contact. “I won’t take long.” His boot heels clacked noisily on the hardwood floor as his long strides took him down the hall and into her bedroom.

  The sound was unfamiliar, out of place. But why? Ah. Most of the time he’d been barefoot. Ready for anything. Her chest tightened.

  Hangers banged against each other in the closet. Her dresser drawer squawked in protest as he jerked it open. Maybe he was reacting to the turned-down sheets and chocolate the way she had.

  The heavy-duty zipper on his duffle rasped and he reappeared, his breathing uneven as he walked into the living room. Earlier his expression had been carefully blank. Not anymore.

  She looked away from the pain in his eyes. Self-inflicted, but that didn’t make it any easier to witness.

  “I, um, didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “Clearly.”

  “But since I did, this might be our only chance to talk.”

  Her heart thumped faster. “About what?”

  “This isn’t exactly a private breakup.”

  She met his gaze. His mask was back on. “Nope.”

  “We’ll be seeing each other tonight over at Ed’s. For the party.”

  “The party is the least of our concerns. We’ll be seeing each other every day for years.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He swallowed. “Guess we’ll get used to it eventually, but tonight—”

  “I’ll do my level best to act normal. Lucy and Matt deserve that. Everyone does, come to think of it.”

  “You’re right. I’ll do the same.”

  “I can’t speak for you, but I refuse to let this ruin my life at the Buckskin.” Brave words, and she intended to live up to them, one day at a time.

  “That goes for me, too. What I meant is that by tonight, the word will be out.”

  “Have you mentioned it to anyone?”

  “I drove over to the bunkhouse last night.”

  A rush of relief caught her by surprise. He’d left in such a terrible mood that he could easily have spent the night parked in some remote area nursing his wounds. “I’m sure being with your brothers helped.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did you drown your sorrows?”

  “I gave it a shot.” He gestured to the cider bottle on the coffee table. “How about you?”

  “I’m a washout at that. Evidently I’m not manly at all.”

  His mask slipped just enough to allow a soft smile. “Wouldn’t want you to be.”

  Her breath caught. “Jake…”

  The smile disappeared. “Better go.” He touched two fingers to the brim of his hat. “See you later, Millie.”

  She clenched her hands and tightened her jaw. She would not call out. She would not go after him. She would not.

  But damn, she wanted to. If she ever got her hands on that cowboy again, she’d shake him until his teeth rattled. What an idiot.

  She was no better, though. She’d ignored the danger signs and barreled ahead, allowing herself to fall in love with a man who was capable of recklessly throwing away happiness with both hands.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jake glanced around the bunkhouse kitchen table and the tension that had plagued him since seeing Millie this morning eased. Like old times, sitting around and making jokes with the Brotherhood.

  In the middle of the afternoon, each of them had coffee mugs in their hands instead of bottles of hard cider. Rafe had begged a couple dozen chocolate chip cookies from the dining hall and those were going fast.

  Not having Seth there had bothered Jake a few months ago. Not as much these days. Seth was happier than he’d ever seen him. Change happened. Everyone adjusted. Matt had taken the leadership role and now that he was back from his honeymoon he could fully claim it.

  As promised, Nick had sent Garrett off to buy chicken for Saturday’s dinner. Henri had come through with a sizeable list to keep their new hire busy in town for a couple of hours.

  Matt was regaling them with his pathetic attempts to surf in Waikiki. Evidently Lucy had proved to be better at it. “Bested by my bride.” He laughed. “But hey, my legs are tan for the first time in my life.”

  Jake gave him a nudge. “Gonna drop trou and show us?”

  “No, I am not. I only take off my Wranglers for one person these days.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Nick said. “Rub it in, bridegroom.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. Not when we have a wounded warrior in the group. Which brings us to you.” Matt turned in his chair, his expression serious. “What the hell is going on, Jake?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She expects them to be a team,” Rafe said. “She wants their relationship to follow the Brotherhood model.”

  “Huh.” Matt looked thoughtful, then shook his head. “She just thinks she does.”

  “Thank you.” Jake let out a breath. “I tried to tell her that, but—”

  “Hey, it’s a natural conclusion for her to make. She sees how you are with us and she wants that.”

  “I’ll bet she doesn’t want belching contests,” Nick said, “not to mention pee—”

  “Yeah, let’s not mention that,” Matt said. “Women are becoming part of the mix. We need to keep our embarrassing traditions to ourselves.”

  Nick frowned. “What do you mean by becoming part of the mix. Are we referring to Lucy? Or Kate and Millie, too?”

  “All three of them. But Kate and Millie know us a little better. Lucy still has a somewhat… idealized image of the Brotherhood.”

  “So do Kate and Millie,” Rafe said, “if you want to get right down to it. We’ve never had chugging contests when they were around or written our names in the snow afterward. We need to keep it that way.”

  “Yep.” Matt poured himself more coffee and passed the carafe to Leo when he signaled with his mug. “Bottom line, we need to break it down and figure out what about the Brotherhood experience Millie really wants.” He glanced at Jake. “So you can supply it.”

  “What if I can’t? What if the kindest thing I could do is leave
her the hell alone?”

  “You’ve been living with her for three days.” Matt held Jake’s gaze. “Are you ready to give up?”

  Jake heaved a sigh. “No. When I saw her this morning, I… it was rough. On both of us. The way things are, I don’t know if we can even be friends anymore. At the very least, I’d like to repair our friendship, for her sake.”

  “Then let’s go with that. What’s her biggest complaint?”

  “She called me the Lone Ranger. I shoulder all the responsibility. The cooking, the dishes, the laundry, washing my truck. She wants to help, but I… don’t see the need.”

  “But she does. Why not let her help out if that’s what she wants?”

  “Because he’s trying to be nice,” Rafe said. “What’s wrong with treating a woman like a queen? He cleaned the entire house and she was upset. Go figure.”

  “Jake, you can do my laundry any time.” CJ grinned at him. “I promise I won’t be upset.”

  “Bite me, CJ.”

  “I see what Matt’s getting at,” Leo said. “Let her help you wash the truck. She’d probably be good at it since cleaning is her strong suit. If doing laundry together is important to her, then why not?”

  “I’ll tell you why not.” Jake’s gut churned. “We won’t agree on how to do stuff. And we’ll argue.”

  “So what?” Leo swept a hand around the table. “We argue. No big deal.”

  “I can’t argue with Millie.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t trust myself.”

  Matt stared at him. “If you’re saying you’d get physical, I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  “I’d never lay a hand on her, but I could start yelling.”

  “That’s not the end of the world,” Matt said. “People yell sometimes.”

  “My parents yell all the time.” Jake had nearly recovered from this morning’s hangover but his headache came back with a vengeance. “Once they get going—”

  “Is that how you see yourself behaving with Millie? Because I’ve never seen it around here with us.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re all guys. It’s different when it’s a man and a woman. It can quickly get out of hand. It’s better if I do things myself.”