This Cowboy of Mine--Includes a Bonus Novella

by R. C. Ryan

  “’Morning.” Casey turned. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Better than yesterday, I believe.”

  Seeing her bright smile, he relaxed. “That’s good. Think you’re up for a day of travel?”

  She nodded. “And I’m betting Solitaire will be thrilled to leave his prison.”

  “So will our patient.”

  At Casey’s words she realized for the first time that the mustang on the far side of the cave was standing. “Oh, look at her.”

  “Yeah. I think if it weren’t for the snow barring the entrance, she’d make a run for it.”

  “If you turned her loose, would she survive?”

  Casey shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I’ve certainly pumped her up with plenty of antibiotics. But that cut was deep and infected, and I believe she’ll need another week or more before it’s healed enough to be considered infection-free for the long haul. Life in the wilderness is hard, but for a wounded animal it can be fatal. If she can’t keep up, her herd will abandon her. And then there are the predators that are always watching for the weak and wounded, because they’re easy prey. I don’t intend to return her to the wild until she’s strong enough to survive even the strongest threat.”

  He gestured toward the coffeepot on the hot coals. “There’s coffee. And since you’re awake, I’m going to stop and make breakfast.” He set aside the log and crossed to the fire. “I’ve worked up a powerful appetite.”

  In no time Kirby and Casey were seated on either side of the fire, helping themselves to crisp bacon, biscuits, and hard-boiled eggs from a foil packet that Billy had packed.

  After the hearty meal, Kirby sat back, contentedly drinking a second cup of coffee. “I wonder why food tastes so good way out here.”

  “Probably because we can’t take it for granted. If we run out, we can’t drive to a store and buy more.”

  She shrugged. “There’s that. But I think it’s more. It’s the fresh air, the hard, physical labor, and”—she glanced at him—“the pleasant company.”

  He chuckled. “It has been pleasant, hasn’t it?” He set aside his empty cup. “Considering our less-than-warm introduction, it’s surprising how well we work together.”

  At his words, Kirby flushed. She’d been trying to make up for their rough start. “I’m sorry I slept while you did all that work.”

  “No harm done. You needed to rest. Now it’s time to make our getaway.” He picked up the log. “While I get the final few feet of snow out of the way, would you mind packing up our supplies?”

  She nodded. “I’m happy to.”

  As she returned the food and utensils to Casey’s saddlebags, and began saddling Solitaire, she kept sneaking peeks at Casey. He’d shed his parka. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his face beaded with sweat as he continued pounding the packed snow with the log until at last the entrance was open wide enough to permit both horses and riders to emerge.

  With a smile of triumph he turned. “That should do it. Ready to face the trail?”

  “I’m ready if you are.” She poured the containers of melted snow on the last of the embers until she was certain the fire had been extinguished.

  Casey tied a rope to the mustang’s neck. “From the looks of these two, they’re more than ready to stretch their legs.”

  Casey unrolled his sleeves and slipped into his parka before grabbing up his wide-brimmed hat. While holding the lead rope attached to the filly, he pulled himself into the saddle before turning to assist Kirby up behind him.

  With a last look around the cave that had been their shelter, they faced forward toward the entrance. After the gloom inside, the sun was blinding as it reflected off a countryside covered in a snowfall so white it hurt to look at it.

  As Solitaire moved out at a slow, measured pace, Kirby wrapped her arms around Casey’s waist and felt the ripple of muscles beneath the parka.

  When the wind picked up, blowing the snow in little eddies against their eyes, Casey pulled his hat low on his forehead. Kirby buried her face against his broad back.

  As their mount plodded through the drifts, Kirby became aware of the fact that she felt not only warm but safe with this man. On her own, she would’ve been driven by panic, and a need to reach civilization as quickly as possible. But with Casey she had the feeling that the two of them could overcome any danger. Hadn’t they survived a blizzard and an avalanche?

  She touched a hand to her rifle, in the boot of the saddle along with Casey’s. As they descended the mountain, they were both alert to any unusual movement, and were constantly watching for human footprints.

  As they rode, Casey pointed out the various tracks in the snow. “Deer,” he said as they emerged from a thick stand of trees.

  When Kirby looked around and saw only wilderness, he pointed to the telltale prints. “A pretty big herd. And probably here less than an hour ago.”

  She began to follow his lead, noting the tracks and the droppings. Every so often, he’d point and call out, “Mustangs.” Or, “Bobcat. And a big one, judging by those prints.”

  She glanced around, wishing she could see a big cat. Not up close, she thought, but it would be so exciting to spot one on a nearby cliff. Instead she saw only a dazzling white countryside for as far as the eye could see.

  By the time the snow had thinned to a mere dusting in the lower elevation, they were both cold, weary, and eager for whatever comfort they could find at the end of the trail.

  At long last they caught sight of outbuildings and, in the far distance, a plume of smoke from a chimney.

  “There’s my home.”

  Kirby could hear the affection in his voice. Her heart beat faster as she studied the sturdy, well-maintained barns, and beyond, a tall, three-story house of weathered wood and stone, looking as stately as the mountains that served as a backdrop.

  Solitaire, sensing food and shelter at the end of their long journey, picked up his speed. The mustang was forced to keep up.

  As the wind continued its assault, Kirby leaned her face against Casey’s broad back and closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth and strength of him.

  “Well, look what the storm blew in.”

  A man’s deep voice greeted them as they rounded the barn.

  Standing in the open doorway was a tall, muscular cowboy. He looked enough like Casey that he could have been his twin. Even the wide smile was the same, crinkling the corners of his eyes, lighting all his features.

  “Didn’t you say you’d be gone for a couple of weeks?”

  Casey chuckled. “Now that’s what I call a warm welcome. I thought you’d be happy to see me, bro.”

  “I am. Just puzzled. Since you’re the guy who loves his solitude, what brings you back so soon?”

  When Casey slid from the saddle, the man’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Kirby, who had been hidden from his view.

  With a nod of approval he gave Casey a thumbs-up. “Only you could ride into a blizzard and come home with a beautiful woman.”

  That had Kirby grinning.

  “Kirby Regan, this is my brother Jonah. He prides himself on being a man of words.”

  “Hi, Jonah.” Kirby descended from Solitaire’s back and absorbed a sudden rush of pain when she put pressure on her ankle after so many hours on the trail.

  Hearing the way she sucked in a breath Casey put an arm around her waist to hold her upright. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She allowed herself to lean into him for a moment before stepping away.

  Casey handed his brother the lead rope. “Mind putting this mustang in a stall? Maybe that one in the corner, so she’s isolated.”

  Noticing the way the mustang favored its left foreleg, Jonah arched a brow. “An injured mustang and an injured lady?”

  “I found the filly on the trail, unable to walk. It has a deep cut that’s infected.”

  “And he found me, or rather I found him, taking shelter in a cave.”

  “Sound like there’s a story there.” Jonah led
the horse to a stall and removed the rope before stepping out and securing the stall door.

  Though the mustang appeared skittish, the food and water soon snagged enough of her interest that she stopped her pacing to eat.

  Before Casey could unsaddle Solitaire, Jonah took the reins from him. “You two look frozen. Why don’t you go inside? I’ll take care of this.”

  Casey shot him a smile of gratitude. “Thanks, Jonah.”

  Keeping an arm around Kirby’s waist, he walked with her toward the house.

  She seemed embarrassed by his attention. “That first step caught me by surprise, but I’m fine now, Casey. Really.”

  He merely smiled. “Humor me. You’re about to be overwhelmed by my family. Brace yourself.”

  As they crossed the distance from the barn to the house, both their cell phones began buzzing, letting them know that they were within range of service.

  They paused to study their messages.

  Kirby quickly read the half-dozen texts from her superior, each more frantic than the last. With a sigh she dialed his number and left a message when he didn’t answer. “Dan? Sorry it took so long to get back to you. The storm knocked out service to my phone, but I want to assure you I’m safe. I found shelter in the mountains with Dr. Casey Merrick, and I’m currently at his family’s ranch. Since we’ve just now arrived, I have no plans other than to read all my messages to catch up on what I’ve missed. I’ll call you later and we can talk business.”

  As she tucked her phone in her pocket, Casey led her up the back porch.

  They stepped into a big mudroom, with low shelves for boots, and hooks along the wall for coats and hats. They both hung their parkas, then sat on a wooden bench to remove their hiking boots.

  As soon as her boot was off, Kirby hissed in pain. She gathered herself for a moment, before following Casey’s lead and crossing the room to wash in a deep sink that stood beside a table piled with fluffy towels.

  From the other room came a chorus of voices and the low rumble of laughter.

  The minute they stepped into the kitchen, the room went silent as everyone turned to them.

  Kirby returned their stares as a white-haired cowboy called, “You’re home early, boy. We weren’t expecting you for a couple of weeks.”

  “I know I’m early, Ham. And I brought company.” Casey caught Kirby’s hand and led her toward the group, clustered around a fireplace at one end of the kitchen. “Kirby Regan, this is my family. My great-grandfather, Hammond Merrick.”

  “Everyone calls me Ham.” The old man studied the visitor with interest. “Welcome to our ranch.”

  “Thank you, Ham.” She extended a hand and he shook it with surprising strength.

  “My grandparents, Egan and Meg Merrick.”

  They were both on their feet in an instant and hurrying over to hug Kirby.

  Meg gave her a worried look before glancing at her grandson. “How long has this poor thing been in the saddle?”

  Casey shrugged. “Most of the day.”

  “Why, you must be half-frozen. Here.” Meg led Kirby to an upholstered chair by the fireplace and dropped an afghan over her lap. “We have hot tea if you’d like.”

  Kirby couldn’t help smiling at her kindness. “Hot tea sounds heavenly.”

  “What about me, Gram Meg? No hugs for the weary traveler?”

  His grandmother gave him a dismissive wave before throwing her arms around his neck. “You’ve been known to spend weeks in the saddle in the middle of nowhere.”

  He shot a grin at Kirby. “See? I get no respect.”

  While the others chuckled, a man crossed the room to hand Kirby a steaming cup of tea. He appeared to be in his midfifties, rail-thin, with sparkling blue eyes and fine brown hair in a bowl cut.

  Casey handled the introduction. “Kirby, this is Billy Caldwell.”

  “Hello, Billy. Thank you for the tea. Casey told me you’re the best cook in all of Wyoming.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Kirby. I didn’t realize Casey ever bragged about me. I’ll let you be the judge of whether or not he was telling you the truth.”

  She breathed in the wonderful fragrance permeating the air. “If what you’re cooking is half as good as it smells, I can’t wait.”

  Casey dropped an arm around his father’s shoulders. “Kirby, this is my father, Bo Merrick.”

  Kirby’s gaze darted from father to son. “Hello, Bo. You could never deny that Casey’s your son. He looks just like you.”

  Casey nudged an elbow in Bo’s ribs. “I consider that the highest compliment.”

  A handsome cowboy and a pretty blond woman wearing faded denims and a plaid shirt had trailed in behind Casey and Kirby, and were now coming over to offer their warm greetings.

  Casey was quick to say, “Kirby Regan, this is Chet Doyle, a longtime family friend and ranch foreman.”

  “Chet.” Kirby accepted his handshake.

  “And this is my aunt, Liz Merrick.”

  The blonde managed a shy smile before staring at the floor.

  “Hello. You’re the photographer.” Seeing the way Liz colored, Kirby felt the need to explain. “We had a lot of time to talk while we were stuck in that cave, and Casey told me a little bit about his family.”

  “Wait.” Hammond held up a hand. “Cave? You two were alone in a cave?”

  “There was a blizzard raging.” Kirby caught the sidelong glances being shared by the family as Casey continued, “And I had an injured mustang I was caring for.”

  “And my boss had texted me, warning that there was an escaped convict in the area.” Kirby’s words tumbled out in a rush. “I was racing to get down the mountain when I fell and sprained my ankle and went stumbling into Casey’s cave, looking for shelter. But when I saw him, looking like some kind of trail bum, I thought he was the convict, so I held him at gunpoint and—”

  “You pulled a gun on my great-grandson?” Ham’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m afraid so. Of course, that didn’t last but a moment before I was rudely relieved of my rifle and I was the one facing my own gun.”

  By now the entire family was leaning forward, eager to hear every word.

  Seeing their reactions, Casey started laughing. “I wish you could see your faces. What the lady left out is the fact that we resolved our differences and agreed to work together to survive the blizzard, an avalanche, and an escaped convict.”

  “An avalanche? I’m afraid you left that out of your narrative.” Meg looked horrified.

  “It sealed the entrance to the cave, but we managed to break through the barrier, as you can see.”

  “That’s some story,” Jonah said. He’d just come in from the barn, trailed by his brother and sister-in-law.

  Casey turned. “Kirby, you’ve met my younger brother, Jonah. This is my older brother, Brand, and his wife, Avery.”

  Kirby shook her head. “Casey told me about his big family, but until now I didn’t realize just how many of you there are.”

  “We’re big, we’re noisy, and we’ll expect you to remember all our names,” Jonah said with a grin.

  That had the others nodding and laughing.

  Noticing Kirby’s empty cup, Meg took it from her hands. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

  Kirby shook her head. “There’s nobody waiting for me.”

  Meg smiled. “Good. Then I suggest you consider spending the night.”

  It was on the tip of Kirby’s lips to offer a protest. Instead, she merely smiled. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Meg turned to her grandson. “Casey, why don’t you take Kirby upstairs and show her the guest room? I’m sure after all the two of you have been through you’ll both welcome a hot shower and a chance to relax before dinner.”

  “Thanks, Gram Meg.” Kirby followed behind Casey. As soon as they stepped out of the kitchen he caught her hand. “Is your head spinning from all the names and faces?”

  She laughed. “Does it show?”

  “Not
at all. You handled it like a pro. Come on.” He led the way up the stairs, while she tried not to limp as she climbed beside him.

  He opened a door and stepped aside. “I think you’ll be comfortable here. If you need anything at all, let me know. My room is next door. Right now, I’m going to take the longest shower in the universe.”

  “Oh, that sounds heavenly.”

  “Take all the time you want to settle in. I’ll see you downstairs.” He winked before pulling the door closed behind him.

  Chapter Six

  When the door closed, Kirby turned to study her new surroundings.

  A big bed was covered with a pale down comforter. Tossed carelessly at the foot was a throw of soft heather. Across the room were floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a view of the Grand Tetons looming in the distance. On the other side was a desk and chair, and along another wall was a series of bookshelves holding bound leather volumes of what appeared to be a collection of CDs. Mounted opposite the bed was a flat-screen television.

  At a knock on the door she opened it to find Avery holding a pile of clothes. “We thought you might need these.” With a smile she handed them to Kirby and turned away.

  “Thank you,” Kirby called before closing the door and setting them on a chair.

  She opened the adjoining bathroom door and paused, trying to take in the expanse of marble, on the floor, the shower, even the vanity. And across the room a jetted tub invited her to soak.

  In mere minutes, she was out of her clothes and into the warm water, reveling in the jets spewing more warmth, until she was purring with pleasure.

  She scrubbed her hair until it gleamed, then just sat back, letting the warm water lull her until, afraid she might fall asleep, she climbed reluctantly from the tub and wrapped herself in a bath towel.

  She opened drawers and doors in the vanity and found everything she could ever need: combs, brushes, gels, lotions. After blowing her hair partially dry, she slathered as much lotion on as she could before leaving the bathroom to climb into the inviting bed.

  She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.