How to Kiss a Cowboy

by Joanne Kennedy

  “Sure was,” he said.

  “I have a picture of us, back in high school,” she said. “We’re sitting together at a rodeo. I’m on the fence, and you’re down there, just like that.”

  “I know.” He finally smiled. “I found it in your underwear drawer when you were in the hospital.”

  “Shoot. That was my big secret.”

  “It didn’t have to be.”

  “No. But the fact that I held on to that picture all that time ought to tell you something,” she said.

  “What should it tell me?”

  He looked her in the eye and she knew, in that moment that she’d done it. She’d won the biggest challenge of her life.

  She’d won back Brady Caine.

  “It should tell you that I’ve loved you most of my life.”

  Reaching up, he grabbed her leg and pulled her down into the grass, cushioning her fall with one strong arm. She shrieked in mock terror and they rolled over a couple times, laughing like kids, and when they stopped, he was looking down on her, his eyes soft and serious.

  When their lips met, he brushed his gently over hers. Then she grabbed the back of his head and kissed him for real, putting all the frustrated, foolish, foiled love she’d saved up the past few weeks into one single, desperate kiss.

  They rolled again, over and over, in the soft overgrown grass beside the arena, kissing. She had grass stains on her knees, on her elbows, on the heels of her hands. But she had Brady, so it didn’t matter.

  When they pulled apart, Brady lay in the grass and let out his rebel yell, that wild whoop of joy she’d missed so much at the rodeo.

  The two men at the gate applauded and Suze groaned. Brady rolled over and hiked himself up on his elbows so he could gaze into her eyes. His own were soft and grave with worry.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I? If I hurt you again, I’m retiring that stupid whoop for good.”

  “I’m fine,” Suze said. “Only thing you hurt was my reputation, and I don’t care about that.” She grinned. “You can whoop all you want. In fact, you’d better keep it up or your big brother will kill me.”

  “What?”

  “Ridge said I took the Brady out of Brady, and I’d better put it back.”

  She looked up into his eyes. He was smiling down at her, his face framed by the brim of his hat and the blue Wyoming sky. In that moment, she had everything she’d ever wanted. Love made the world around her shine with a new light, and she was never going to let it dim.

  That’s why she kissed him again.

  * * *

  The drive home was long and quiet. Suze let her hand dangle outside the window, savoring the cool touch of the air rushing by.

  When they reached the house, Brady helped Suze out of the high truck and took her by the hand.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he led her past the house and barn.

  Around the corner, at the back of the barn, was a patch of sunflowers. Suze had always loved the cheerful, unruly tangle of blossoms, but she hadn’t been behind the barn since spring.

  It was twilight, and the only light came from the motion-sensor light at the corner of the barn, but she could see they were blooming again, surrounding a rustic bench that sat just in front of them. A few flowers had grown through the slats, lifting their cheery heads as if to welcome her.

  “When did you do this?” she asked, stroking the bench’s smooth finish.

  “Shane’s been teaching me woodworking. I finished it a few weeks ago. Set it up one day when you were in town, seeing the doctor.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She imagined what it would have been like finding the bench if she and Brady hadn’t made up. She’d probably have grown old alone without him.

  A sudden image of a much-older self crossed her mind—a much-older self, white-haired and bitter, sitting on this bench and remembering her brief happiness with the man she loved. Remembering how she’d lost him to her selfish pride and her foolish fears.

  But now it would be different. Now the future was in her hands. If she loved Brady enough, if she trusted him and won his heart, her life would always be complicated. It would always be a tangle of happy accidents, like this patch of sunflowers. It wouldn’t be organized. She wouldn’t be able to control it. You couldn’t watch videos and improve your technique when it came to love. There were no do-overs.

  Although she seemed to be getting one now.

  Oblivious to her thoughts, Brady sat on the bench and pulled her down beside him.

  “I figured this way you can sit in sunshine even on cloudy days,” he said.

  There was no sunshine now. Brady picked a sunflower and began to pluck the petals off, one by one. When he finished, he passed the naked stem to Suze with a smile.

  “What did it say?”

  “It said I love you. But I already knew that.”

  “So you destroyed this poor innocent flower for nothing?”

  “Hey, I dang near destroyed you,” he said. “The flower’s nothing.”

  “You didn’t even come close to destroying me.”

  “That’s true,” he said. “You’re one tough cookie. But I was bound to you until I made it right.”

  “That’s not true. You’re bound to someone if they save your life. Not if you ruin theirs.”

  “You did save my life.” He tossed the flower on the grass. “Everybody thought I was happy, but my life was shit, Suze. It felt wrong, ever since I got out of school. Maybe even before that. I didn’t know what was wrong until Shane pointed out that the only reason I did rodeo was for buckles and babes. And I knew the only reason I was alive, the only purpose to my life, was to do rodeo.”

  “So your whole life was about buckles and babes.”

  “Exactly. And you changed that. You opened up my life and made it worth something.”

  “Really? Because of me, you ended up with no buckles and only one babe. I’m not thinking I did you any favors.”

  “It’s the right babe, and that makes all the difference.” He settled back and stared up at the sky. “That cowboy whoop, that rebel yell? The first time I let it out was when I saw you thundering around your dad’s arena on that old horse you had.”

  “Sherman.”

  “Yup. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen, and you still are. I fell for you right then, and I’ve never gotten over it. The rest of my life has just been waiting for a chance to prove to you I’m worthy.”

  “You’re worthy,” she said. “More than worthy.”

  He reached for her hand and their fingers twined together as a shooting star arced across the southern sky. “What are we going to wish for now?” Brady’s voice was hushed, as if he was in church.

  “I’m going to ask to always be this happy,” she said. “To always have you beside me.”

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you about that.”

  “About what?”

  “About forever.”

  He slipped off the bench and dropped to one knee so fast she half expected him to tip his hat and whoop. It was a dismount worthy of the rodeo.

  “Suze Carlyle,” he said, “I loved you the first time I saw you and I’ve grown to love you more every day since then. You’re strong, you’re stubborn, and you’re the only woman I know who can make me behave without making me miserable.”

  She laughed. “Well, that was original.”

  “Just concentrate on the first sentence. I practiced that one. Wrote it out and everything.”

  “When?”

  “A long time ago.” He smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “You know that picture of the two of us? The one you kept?”

  She nodded.

  “It was about then.”

  “I never knew,” she said. “I never thought you’d pick someone like me.”

&
nbsp; “I never thought I deserved you.”

  She looked over at the old barn where Speedo bunked with his friend Bucket. Her gaze shifted to her bedroom window—the window where she’d watched that first day when Brady came to make things right. Where later she’d shown up in that terrible worn-out old nightie and yelled at him for peeping when all he was doing was fixing the barn roof. She looked at the sunroom, where she spent every morning drinking coffee and watching the dawn sky, and at the neat, well-groomed lawn and the baby lilac bushes he’d planted beside the front steps.

  He’d changed her life, one chore at a time.

  “So what’s your answer?” he asked. He was still on one knee, still watching her face.

  “You didn’t ask a question.”

  “Oh.” He took a deep breath. “Will you marry me, Suzanne Carlyle?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes. My life is yours. My heart is yours. You’ll always have the power to break it, but I trust you to keep it safe. I’d marry you a hundred times, Brady Caine, and a hundred times more after that.”

  Brady picked her up, bounced her once to make her squeal, and spun her around until the world was a blur. Lifting his face to the sky, he let out a whoop so full of love and wildness and pure cowboy joy that she lay back in his arms, stretched her arms wide enough to hold the whole of the sky above them, and spun in the starlight, trusting the man she loved to hold her tight and keep her safe.

  Epilogue

  Suze hadn’t wanted diamonds from Brady on their wedding day. She couldn’t imagine what she’d do on a beach vacation. What she wanted, what she needed, was a new barrel horse so Speedo could retire. And that’s what Brady had given her.

  Her new mount, Hilo, was calm when she mounted him, despite her unconventional riding attire. It might be crazy to run barrels in a wedding dress, but Suze couldn’t wait. Besides, wrestling with her dress made her forget her ankle, her knee, and everything else. After fighting with the yards of fabric for nearly a minute, she finally hiked the dress up to her waist and pushed the mountains of fabric behind her like an old-fashioned Victorian bustle.

  And then she was in the saddle at last.

  “You sure you don’t want some help?” Brady asked.

  He stood at the gate, which had been decorated with white netting and rosebuds for the wedding. She could only imagine how tense he was. He probably hadn’t expected her to try out her gift right away, without even changing her clothes.

  But being with Brady had changed her. He’d taught her to enjoy life, to be impulsive and happy and free. When she felt like saying something, she said it. When she felt like doing something, she did it. And if she wanted to ride a horse in her wedding gown, nothing was going to stop her.

  Sitting there in the saddle, her heart filled with joy. She was right where she was supposed to be: high on a horse and ready to ride.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

  The tickly fabric that was draped around Hilo’s haunches didn’t seem to bother him a bit. One ear flicked back to check on her as the other focused forward.

  The arena beyond the gateposts gleamed like a white sand beach—a beach with three battered, rusty barrels set in the sand. Wedding guests stood in small clusters around the fence, but in her mind, Suze could hear the roar of a rodeo crowd, the chatter of excited children, and the shouts of the cowboys.

  One of Sierra’s kids let out a whoop and set Hilo dancing for one high-stress second before he caught himself and calmed. She could feel him through the saddle, through the reins, feel his focus and his ambition and his determination. He was in charge of this ride. He was taking care of her, scoping out the situation and readying himself to make the best run he could.

  Speedo had taken care of her like that. Some riders would have hung on and let the horse rule the ride, but Suze knew it was up to her to make it the best it could be. Hilo would lean into the turns and she would nudge him a little closer to the edge, push him one degree beyond where he wanted to be. That way, he’d run a little harder to keep the two of them in balance. The horse might make a perfect ride on his own, but she’d push it beyond perfection. He was the runner and she was the urge to run. He was the racer and she was the will to win.

  She thought about moving forward, just thought about it, and Hilo walked to the gate before she even had time to cue him. She looked at the mark Brady had drawn with a boot heel and he stopped, front hooves dancing with impatience.

  Suze looked at the first barrel and visualized the run in her head. In response, Hilo flicked his right ear back and she felt something she could hardly believe. She’d had a rare experience with Speedo. She’d truly felt that he could read her mind, and she’d never expected to find another horse so in tune with her thoughts.

  But Hilo was with her on that imagined ride. They were hurtling around the same ethereal cloverleaf, taking the turns together, riding the perfect ride. He was in her head, and she figured she was probably in his.

  Whatever Brady had paid for this horse was nowhere near enough. She’d found a once-in-a-lifetime horse—for the second time in her life.

  It wasn’t that long ago that she’d felt cursed. She’d truly believed her personal patch of sky was darkened by clouds beyond her control. She’d never expected to find true love. To find real happiness. To find peace.

  But now, in the saddle, she felt charmed.

  She willed Hilo to settle, and for a moment she and the horse hung suspended out of time, hovering in the hot summer air like a hummingbird the second before it darts for a flower. Then he gathered beneath her, the muscles bunching and tightening.

  She thought, GO!

  Hilo shot forward like a rocket from a launchpad and exploded into the arena, a fury of dust and flickering hooves and high spirits. It didn’t matter that there was no timekeeper, no competition. Suze was still aware of time passing a second at a time, ticking toward success or failure, counted out by the horse’s hooves and the beating of her heart.

  They took the first turn in balletic unison. The horse was a genius. He was made for this; he’d found his groove the same as she had, and he lived for racing just like she did. As they ran the second barrel and the third, she felt joy coursing through the horse’s bloodstream, the joy of a born barrel horse pounding for home after cutting three perfect loops in the sand.

  * * *

  Brady knew he was watching his new wife fall in love all over again—and nothing could make him happier. He could see her and the horse joining up, becoming one. Hilo’s tail waved behind him like a flag, and Suze’s long hair, long escaped from her wedding updo, formed the same wave, a visual echo.

  He’d been riding in opposition to his mounts so long that the sight of their unity made him ache. She and the horse flowed like a current of air, blowing around the barrels like wind through the trees. He’d known the first time he saw her ride that she could fly, and now he knew she’d launch herself into the record books riding the horse he’d bought for her.

  Watching the two of them together for the first time was a moment he’d never forget. He hoped Stan, who’d offered to photograph the wedding as a gift, had captured some images of his wild bride, riding a perfect race in her wedding finery.

  She pulled Hilo to a stop at the gate, then trotted him right up to Brady. Now that the race was over, reality washed over him and he looked up at her anxiously, watching for signs of pain in her eyes.

  “How’s your ankle?” he asked. “How’s your knee? You looked really good out there. Are you okay? How do you feel?”

  She slid off the horse and into his arms. Unfortunately, the hem of her dress caught on the saddle horn, offering the guests a private view of her lace panties.

  “Hold it,” Brady said. He freed the dress, tucked his arm under her bottom, and hoisted her into his arms.

  “How do you feel?” he asked again.

  S
he looked up at him with a smile that glowed.

  “I feel lucky,” she said.

  Her hair was a mess, and she’d gotten her expensive gown dirty. She’d looked like an angel when she’d met Brady at the altar, and she still did—but her halo had tipped a little to the left.

  “I feel lucky too,” he said.

  He set her down and they turned and walked back to the Carlyle house, back to their guests. The house was theirs now; Earl had moved into Gwen’s high-fenced sanctuary, and proudly claimed he hadn’t watched an episode of Bonanza since. He’d given Suze away, and the groomsmen had been Ridge, Shane, and Isaiah. Sierra had been a perfect maid of honor, settling Suze’s jitters even as she kept her boys in line.

  The reception had barely begun. There were dances to dance and cake to cut, but the best part of the wedding was behind them.

  Brady knew for certain, though, that the best part of the marriage had only just begun.

  How to Wrangle a Cowboy

  Coming soon from Joanne Kennedy

  and Sourcebooks Casablanca

  Shane Lockhart’s ex climbed back into the car and started the smooth, purring engine. Releasing the brake, she slung the Beemer into reverse, peering over her shoulder as she backed up, then shifting into drive and gliding out into the darkness. Gravel crunched under the tires, and then the sound disappeared along with the red glow of the taillights.

  So this was how it happened, Shane thought. It didn’t take long to leave a child behind, to create an emptiness that would last a lifetime.

  His son would be all right. He’d make him all right. He was good at that—bending people to his will. Bending life to his will. He’d make this work, and he’d tell Cody that his mother loved him. He’d tell him she’d had to leave and had wanted to stay.

  He’d tell lies to his son and save him the pain he’d endured himself.

  Shane looked down at the sleeping child in his arms, at the way his lashes lay against his cheeks. His dark hair, dark as Shane’s own, clung to his forehead, a little damp with sweat. Shane felt his heart swell.