To Kiss a Cowgirl

by Jeannie Watt

  People shot at him, for Pete’s sake.

  * * *

  THE BIG MOVE went better than Dylan had anticipated, mainly because Gordy was stronger than he looked. When he easily picked up his end of Mike’s zillion-pound sofa sleeper, Dylan vowed he would keep the kid in mind if business got so good that he needed to hire additional warehouse help. If things continued as they were, it was a definite possibility, and he’d mention that to Gordy before the night was over.

  After they’d packed up the final bits and pieces from the old house, they drove the truck to the new house, where Mike’s friend Karl Evans lent a hand with the furniture arranging. Cal Sawyer and his sister, Lois, showed up shortly thereafter with a dinner of fried chicken and potato salad, and the six of them ate sitting on Mike’s new deck. A nice-size creek flowed just behind the chain-link fence, separating the housing development from the fields behind it, and Karl joked about Mike being able to fish without leaving home.

  “You do have a fine back yard,” Cal said, gesturing at the mountains behind the field. “As long as no one buys the field and plants houses on it.”

  “Federal land,” Mike replied. “No worries there.”

  Lois got to her feet and started gathering paper plates. “Gordy and I will help you do the final cleaning before you turn your keys over to the real estate agent,” she said as she took Mike’s plate. “Just tell us what time to be there.”

  Mike accepted the offer and then the four old friends drifted into a conversation about how Eagle Valley had changed over the past forty years. A sudden thought struck Dylan and he caught Gordy’s eye. A few seconds later the kid followed him into the kitchen.

  “I have to make a trip soon, and it occurred to me that I need someone to cover the warehouse while I’m gone. It’ll only be for a couple of days. Are you interested?”

  Gordy’s thin face broke into a smile. “Yeah. Totally.”

  “Can you stop by early tomorrow before you and your aunt go to Mike’s place so that I can show you what’s what?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And...nothing certain here...but if I do need to hire someone, you’re first on the list. We can even work around school.” He’d certainly worked around school back in the day. Before school. After school. It’d kept him busy.

  “Great! I mean...great!”

  Gordy was beaming when he went back out onto the deck, leaving Dylan with one fewer problem to solve before his exam. And if he could somehow force himself to stop wondering why the dynamic had changed between himself and Jolie after he’d told her about his accident, he’d be ahead of the game, focus-wise.

  Maybe things were better this way, with Jolie taking a step back. No more distractions. Yes. That made sense.

  Dylan walked down the short hallway to the bathroom, glancing into the guest bedroom where he’d be staying until he moved back to Washington. His two duffel bags sat on the bed, reminding him of how temporary his time was here in Montana.

  Soon he’d be six hundred miles away.

  Soon it wouldn’t matter why Jolie was distancing herself from him. He’d be gone.

  * * *

  JOLIE’S FIRST RODEO was coming up and Mike was disappointed that he wouldn’t have a chance to see her run the barrels. It was in Glennan and he didn’t feel up to driving that far with his new hip still not fully healed. Dylan commiserated, thinking that his grandfather and Jolie must have had quite the bonding conversation when he’d gone to visit his girls.

  Frankly, he wouldn’t mind seeing Jolie run the barrels himself, which was an indication of how unsuccessful he’d been at chasing thoughts of her out of his brain. But he had to focus on this test, which was coming up soon. Too soon, maybe. Tests were his thing; he always thrived under that kind of pressure, but this test was different. He felt nervous, inadequately prepared.

  Probably because of his lack of concentration lately. And then there was the matter of Lindsey and Pat. His lawyer would handle the matter with Lindsey. He wouldn’t even have to see her, but when he did go back to work, he’d have to deal with Pat on the days when their shifts overlapped.

  Awesome prospect, that, but he could deal. It might put a cloud over his professional life initially, but the cloud would dissipate in a matter of time and no one would ever be able to say that he’d left his job because he couldn’t handle being around the jerk who’d had a hand in ending his marriage. He wasn’t a guy who ran away from stuff like that. Even if there were times that he was tempted to tell Mike that he wouldn’t mind managing the feed store full-time.

  That smacked of backing down and he wouldn’t go there. Besides, Finn would expect to take over the reins when he got home.

  He came in from the warehouse to find Jolie staring at her nearly empty boutique display case, holding the hair back from her forehead with one hand, frowning deeply.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m trying to rearrange to best effect, but it’s hard when I’m almost out of stock. I have more coming, but not soon enough.” She let go of her hair and it settled back around her face, the sunlight coming in through the front window making it glint with red and gold lights. “I don’t want to lose momentum.”

  “I guess we can say that the boutique is a success.”

  “Yes.” She smiled a little, but it was guarded, as all of her smiles now were. He missed the spark of their former relationship, before he’d kissed her, but accepted that this was how things were going to remain—with too much sexual tension and no relief in sight.

  “Cal’s grandson is going to load while I’m gone next week.”

  “Gordy? Teenage awkwardness incarnate Gordy?”

  “That’s the kid.”

  “I like him and all, but I hope he doesn’t get crushed under a bag of grain,” Jolie said dryly.

  “I’m sure you can rescue him. Besides, he’s stronger than he looks. Trust me. I know.”

  “You know, I handled the store just fine during the week before you took over. Drove the forklift and everything.”

  “I know. But I don’t want you to do that for five days.”

  The words hung for a moment then Jolie said, “Nervous for your test?”

  “A little.”

  The bell rang over the door and they turned simultaneously. Jess Moody walked in wearing his deputy tans.

  “Thought I might find you here,” he said as he approached Jolie’s display area.

  “Am I in trouble?” Dylan asked.

  “Depends on your definition of trouble.”

  His preoccupation with Jolie?

  Jess turned to Jolie. “Nice display. Dylan mentioned your project when we were out conferring on other matters.”

  She smiled at him with more warmth than Dylan had seen in a month. “Would those matters involve green felt, sticks and sixteen balls?”

  Jess raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. “They would.”

  She laughed and then said to Dylan, “I’ll let you guys talk. I need to check Marcel’s dish.”

  Jess waited until the door closed behind Jolie before saying, “We got that grant I was telling you about.”

  Yeah. The grant. Dylan had to admit that he’d only been listening with half an ear when Jess had been filling him in on the employment issues at the local sheriff’s office at the bar the first time they’d hooked up. He’d been too busy watching Maddox and his fat brother, Wyatt, watching Jolie.

  “That’s good news.”

  “I think so.” Jess shifted his weight. “How bad is that leg of yours?”

  “Uh... I see the doctor when I go to Lanesburg. He’ll let me know if he’ll sign off, but in my opinion, I’m close to one hundred percent.”

  “Any chance I could talk you into applying for this position?”

  Dylan didn’t answer immediatel
y, so Jess went on. “We have a bunch of local douche bags knocking on the door. Guys we don’t want but may have to take if we can’t get someone we do want. The guy who had the position before we lost funding was Jolie’s brother-in-law. Well, ex-brother-in-law. He was a piece of work.”

  “There’s got to be some decent candidates out there.”

  “There are...but I know you. I think I could work with you.”

  “I’m sitting for the detective’s exam next week.”

  “Yeah. You said.”

  “I can’t give you an answer right now,” Dylan said honestly. He needed to see how things worked out in Lanesburg.

  “I figured. We won’t post the job for a couple of weeks, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. Something to think about, in case you wanted to stay closer to Mike. And—” Jess’s gaze drifted toward the door Jolie had gone out of a few minutes before “—whoever else might be here.”

  Dylan wasn’t exactly surprised that Jess had noticed him watching the jerks at the bar who’d been watching Jolie. Or that he’d come to a logical conclusion. It wasn’t a fully accurate conclusion, but Dylan wasn’t going to correct him.

  “I can’t make any promises. I’m halfway to full-service credit in Washington.”

  “You could start over here and still make full-service credit before you hit minimum retirement age, plus have whatever you get from Washington.”

  “Aren’t you the helpful little bunny,” Dylan said and Jess laughed.

  “Hey, just keep it in mind. I’ll let you know when it’s posted and you do what you gotta do.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan said as Jess started for the door. “I really do appreciate the heads-up.”

  “And I appreciate that you have a lot to consider before making a jump.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AS DYLAN APPROACHED LANESBURG, the city he’d protected and served for the past decade, he had no sense of homecoming. No sense that he was back where he belonged.

  All he felt was stress. Jaw-clenching, stomach-knotting stress. The doctor, the exam, the Lindsey/Pat/mortgage business. And yet he was also thinking of Jolie. Wondering how she was doing with Gordy and Mike, who’d assured Dylan that he’d stop by the store, now that he was more ambulatory, and make certain that Jolie was handling matters all right on her own.

  Dylan had mentioned that she was quite capable, but when Mike persisted, Dylan figured he was doing it more to get out of the house than for any other reason. He had been a captive for a long time while that hip of his healed.

  What he didn’t think about was Jess Moody’s offer. Maybe because it was too easy of an out and Dylan avoided easy outs.

  Or maybe he didn’t trust easy outs. There was always a price to pay, and in his experience, the easier something appeared, the steeper the price eventually became.

  He pulled into the motel, checked in, stashed his bag in his room then headed straight to his doctor’s appointment. Where he waited. And waited some more. Flexing his leg, assuring himself he’d hit the point where he could run and carry a load. Do the stuff he needed to be able to do physically to reclaim his old job.

  Finally he got called into Dr. Burke’s office and within ten minutes had exactly what he’d hoped for—a release and an “attaboy” for sticking with the therapy program.

  Too easy, which made him feel edgy.

  He spent the next hour at the station, talking to the captain and nailing down exactly what his future would be with or without the detective’s badge. Passing the exam meant that opportunities for transfer would open up and if he didn’t want to stay in Lanesburg he would have options.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said to the captain, “are you hinting that I should pursue other options?”

  The captain’s gaze shifted down for a brief second then back up again.

  “I know about Pat and Lindsey,” Dylan said before the captain could answer. “It won’t affect me.”

  “How can it not?” the captain asked. “Realistically it will. Under the circumstances.”

  Dylan shook his head. “This can’t be the first time something like this has happened.”

  “No,” the captain agreed. “But I’ve never seen anything good come of it.”

  “Nothing will happen.”

  The captain fell silent again and Dylan’s mouth tightened. How was he supposed to convince this guy of his ability to remain professional when he’d already made up his mind? Then it struck him. Under the circumstances. Personnel being reassigned. “Pat’s getting promoted?”

  “He’d be your immediate supervisor if you remain in your old position.”

  “Which means if I don’t pass the exam you’d keep me in Logistics.” A nod. “And even then you’d like for me to transfer.”

  “You could transfer even if you do pass the exam. I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “No. No one is saying you have.”

  Dylan jammed a finger down on the table. “Why should I pay the price because my ex-partner—” he stopped himself from saying screwed “—took up with my ex-wife?”

  “Because you suspect they were together before your marriage broke up and you hate the son of a bitch?”

  In a nutshell.

  “And because rumor has it they’re living together now in your house and you’re going to do something about it.”

  The guy had no mercy.

  “However,” the captain continued, shifting his gaze briefly down to the pen he held, before once again fixing Dylan with a stern look. “You don’t need to do that because I addressed the issue.” His expression clearly said “Do not ask questions.”

  Dylan wished he was not in front of his captain, being told not to worry about his dirty laundry, the stuff he wanted no one else to know, because it had been taken care of for him. “How?”

  “Let it lie.” The captain spoke in a way that brooked no opposition, but Dylan ignored the warning tone.

  “They’re not living together in my place anymore?” He somehow managed to keep his voice carefully modulated, his temper under control.

  “No.”

  Now it was Dylan’s turn to study the ground. This wasn’t humiliating or anything, having the captain intercede in his personal affairs. But no way was he going to show how much it bothered him, so he tried for a matter of fact tone when he looked back up and said, “That takes care of one issue, although I had kind of hoped to get out from under the mortgage.”

  The captain didn’t answer and Dylan pulled in a long breath. “I’m not interested in a transfer at this time.”

  “And I’d like my department to run smoothly.”

  Dylan opened his mouth to tell him that it would but closed it again. He wasn’t going to win this battle right now. The best thing to do would be to sit for his exam and take things from there.

  “You have another four weeks of family leave.” Dylan had tacked together family emergency medical leave, his vacation and his own sick days to come up with enough time to cover for Finn. The captain had been very accommodating when Dylan had requested to take all of his leave at once, which meant even then he’d known something was up between his partner and his wife while Dylan’d been happily oblivious.

  “Yeah.”

  “Regardless of what happens with the exam, I suggest you use that time to think about what’s best for you and the department.”

  “Right.” Dylan got to his feet, fully aware that the clipped answer hadn’t sounded all that respectful. What was best for him was to get his job back and continue as he’d been. He definitely wasn’t going to back down where Pat was concerned. The department wouldn’t suffer...but he wouldn’t mind if Pat did.

  “And, Dylan?” He glanced back over his shoulder at his captai
n’s grim face. “While you do that...try parking your ego at the door.”

  * * *

  THE STORE FELT empty without Dylan in a way it hadn’t felt empty after Finn left. And that bothered Jolie. She told herself that it was because she’d been so on edge while he’d been there that she didn’t know what a relaxed work environment felt like. Of course she was lying. She missed him and she was worried about him. Like it or not, she was attracted to him and that meant she had to decide what to do about it. Ride it out until he left? Or indulge herself?

  After weeks of delays, the crew finally showed up to build Dani’s arena the day after Dylan left for Washington, which gave Jolie something else to focus on. It would also give her a place to practice when her outdoor arena was too muddy. A few days later the walls were up, the canvas stretched over the frame and a half foot of sand covered the floor. Jolie sent photos to Dani, showing her the fruits of their labor and promising not to have too much fun in it until her sister got back. Funny how one made plans, then fate intervened. Dani had worked so long and hard for her arena and now she wouldn’t be able to use it for a year and a half. But Jolie would put it to good use. Her first rodeo was coming up soon and she had eight more over the course of the summer. When the rains came she could still practice.

  Friday was unusually slow at the bar, nothing like the previous Friday, which Jolie preferred not to think about, although nothing stopped her from dreaming about it. Was it because her life was in a state of flux that her dreams, both the good and the bad, were so vivid? She never had trouble sleeping, but in the mornings she often felt as if she hadn’t, because the dreams were so exhausting. And in some cases frightening. But her new tactic was to push the feelings aside, which was way better than living the terror or, on occasion, the sensual longing, over and over again.

  She worked until eleven when it became obvious that there would be no swell in the crowd prior to last call and Jim told her to go home. The tips were nil and her hourly wage wasn’t but a drop in the bucket, so Jolie thanked him and went for her coat. It felt light without her phone inside, which she’d left in her desk at work in her hurry to get home in time to change for the bar.