by J. M. Madden
A hard bolt of heat arrowed down through his groin as he thought about the feel of her full breasts against his chest. That had really been something. The entire interlude had been thrilling. Well, up until he'd gone off on her dating preferences.
Deliberately shifting his mind to horses, he pushed the arousal away. It wasn't going to do him any good. He was not the man for her.
Chapter 5
In spite of the turmoil her heart and mind were in, Payton slept like the dead that day. It wasn't until she woke several hours before her shift, aroused and needy, that she remembered what had happened that morning.
Only a few hours ago she'd had a naked Brock Lowell in her kitchen and at her mercy. She was proud of herself for instigating the kiss, but it had only created more problems for them. She'd never said anything to Cheyenne about the massive crush she'd had on her brother, but she doubted her friend would be cool about it.
Or maybe she would.
In the last few years things had changed with Cheyenne. She'd become more open and relaxed. Payton didn't think that after the nightmare her asshole ex had put her through Cheyenne was ready for wild sex in the back of a truck just yet, but maybe she would be open to dating soon.
Perhaps she wouldn't mind Payton dating Brock. Or making love to Brock.
Payton wasn't sure she could imagine him agreeing to anything more than a roll in the hay, but at this point, she thought she'd probably take anything just to stop thinking about it so much.
Hurrying through a shower, she headed to the kitchen for some go-go juice. While she waited for the Keurig to brew, she called Cheyenne. The line was picked up and there was chaos on the other end. She could hear Cheyenne's voice, muffled against the background noise.
“Grace Elena, you better not be painting the dog again!'
Payton chuckled, waiting.
"Yes? Hello?" Cheyenne gasped.
Payton giggled. "What's my darling, angelic goddaughter doing now?"
Cheyenne huffed out a breath. "I think you need to come get her and keep her for a few days, then see if you still call her darling. This girl is going to kill me. The other two used to be good kids, but Grace is teaching them every bad thing she can—the evil child. I swear..."
"You know I would take her in a heartbeat," Payton started.
"I know. But then I wouldn't have anything to complain about."
They laughed together like they always did. Cheyenne had been the best friend Payton had ever had, and though she was drawn to Brock, if Cheyenne nixed the idea she would not pursue it again. Her heart would ache, but she would absolutely leave it alone.
"I picked Brock up from the jail this morning."
Cheyenne gasped and Payton launched into the tale of what had happened. Cheyenne huffed when she got to the end. "Ugh, why does he has to be so darn volatile? Daddy just told him he was in control of the ranch, because there's no way he can do anything. Daddy is turning everything over to him. Besides, he has to plan Chad and Lora's wedding."
"Is he doing okay?" Payton asked, concerned all over again. It had only been weeks since Garrett had had his heart attack.
"Yes, he's fine. Better than fine actually. He's beginning to realize there is more to life than cows and horses and work. And though he hates the rehab he has to do, it gets him off the ranch and out with Mama. She won't leave him for anything. I think he's finally remembering how much in love they’ve been for years. And I think they're having fun planning Chad's wedding."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I know they push them at the rehab center but it really is for the best."
"And he knows that, the stubborn old coot. But when they're done, Mama takes him out for ice cream to get his mind off the pain. Or she takes him for a drive. He's getting used to the idea that he doesn't have to be on the ranch all the time."
"Good. He needs that."
"If he finds out about Brock fighting, it might put him on edge all over again."
"Well," Payton said carefully, "if he does find out, make sure he knows Brock was standing up for Chad and Lora. Word's gotten out that they're getting married at the ranch. And it was CNC hands that he got into it with."
"Ah," Cheyenne said carefully. "Should have known. Brock’s been a good guy for a long time now. I think Daddy would have rooted for him if he'd been there."
Payton laughed. "Yes, you're right. So, I picked him up from the jail and brought him here to shower and clean up, so that they wouldn't see him bloody."
Cheyenne was quiet on the other end of the line as if she knew something were coming. "And," she prompted.
Payton wasn't surprised at Cheyenne's insight. She always knew when Payton was brewing something up.
"And," Payton sighed, "I might have kissed him."
Cheyenne laughed lightly, then louder. The sound of her laughter faded as if she held the phone away from her mouth. "Sorry, Payton. I know it's not funny. I've just been waiting for the two of you to get together for such a long time."
Payton gasped, reeling back in her chair. "Wait. What did you say?"
Cheyenne still chuckled on the other end. "You heard me. I've thought for ages, years, that the two of you would be perfect for each other, but Brock always avoided you. Probably because he could see how much you worshipped him, just like everyone else on the ranch could. The two of you would be perfect together, and I think, personally, that he’s been looking for you in all these other women he’s been dating."
Payton gasped, horrified. "What? I'm not... oh God…" her voice trailed away but she couldn't think of what to say. Everyone had known? She felt heat burn the skin of her cheeks. She couldn’t even consider the rest of what Cheyenne had said.
"Payton, darling, I love you. We all love you. You know that. I would never tell you anything to hurt your feelings. I just wanted you to know that I approve. That's why no one ever said anything. We all wanted you to crack his hard shell. I don't know if you've noticed but Brock acts different with you… more than anyone else. He actually acts human when you're around. But he's so darn honorable. He won't do anything he thinks will have a negative impact our friendship or how much a part the family you are."
Payton felt faint. How had she not picked up on any of this? She was an insightful woman, dealt with the public every day, but somehow this was all news to her. "I can't believe this," she whispered.
Cheyenne hummed on the other end of the line. "You're a very smart woman, but sometimes you're too good-hearted. And maybe that's why Brock has a soft-spot for you. You've never given him grief about being a jerk like everyone else has."
That wasn't true. Payton could tell that Brock was hurting and lashing out, but she always called him on his shit when he was being too much of an ass. He had the sense to know when he was in the wrong.
"I don't know about all that."
"Well, like I said before, I love you dearly, but you don't always see what's right in front of you."
Payton wondered if Cheyenne suffered from the same issue. Sheridan Lane had been yearning for Cheyenne for years now but she refused to look at him in any manner other than professional.
Anyway...
"So, you don't mind that I kissed him?"
"Hell, no. I love you like a sister, so if there's a chance it could be for real I say go for it."
Payton felt the starch leave her spine. She's been worried about talking to Cheyenne about this, but obviously it had been wasted energy. "Okay. That's good to know. It might not go anywhere," she warned, as much for herself as Cheyenne, "but I didn't want things to be awkward between us."
"They won't be. If you guys get together and things fall apart, I think the family would vote to keep you over Brock. He's been a pain in our asses recently, giving us jobs to do like we're ranch hands. I know he's doing things to get the ranch in shape for the wedding, but he's pushing everyone's buttons way too often."
Payton laughed, but inside she felt sad. Brock had been dealing with a lot of pain for a long time and he was resorting
to childlike tactics, whether he realized it or not. Even bad attention was better than no attention.
"Okay, Cheyenne. Thanks for the talk."
"No problem, Payton. You know I'd do anything for you."
Yes, she did. "Give the girls a kiss for me. Even Grace."
Cheyenne growled. "We'll see. Bye."
"Bye."
Wow, that was a lot to think about.
Shaking her head, Payton swigged the rest of the coffee in her cup and went to get dressed. She would think about all this in the barn.
Mineer, show-off that he was, paced the fence as she neared, knowing that she was coming for him. The horse was too smart for his own good. Maybe she'd ask him what she should do about Brock.
Payton retrieved Mineer's black tack from the barn and carried it to the fence. Cary and Dino nuzzled at her pockets, looking for the treats she carried for them, but Payton shooed them away. "Quit it, guys! I can't reach anything right now."
They shifted away a little as she made her way to Mineer. Espresso, the distinctive little chocolate grulla colored horse she'd rescued a few months ago paced behind Mineer anxiously. The little horse was compact and fast, as if amped up on caffeine; hence Espresso.
Mineer let her swing the turquoise colored saddle pad over his back, then stood for the saddle to be swung over. This was a strong routine for the two of them. He stood without tethering because he knew the sooner she got him tacked up the sooner they could run. She laughed as he bobbed his head. "I'm hurrying, Mr. Impatient. Chill."
She tightened the girth and secured it, then dropped the bridle from her shoulder. Mineer lowered his head and took the bit like he always did, without hesitation.
Payton fastened the cheek strap and looped the reins around the saddle horn. Then she reached inside her pocket and produced a starlight mint. As soon as the cellophane started to rustle all of the horses crowded around her. One by one she gave them each a candy. Even Espresso crowded close. She'd gotten addicted to the treats just like the others.
She had Cheyenne's brother to thank for that. Chad always seemed to have candy in his mouth or in his pocket. One day when she'd ridden Mineer over, he'd given the horse one. Then two. Then a third. It was the first time Mineer hadn't listened to her. He'd followed Chad around like a damn dog, hoping for more sugar.
The next day when she'd gone out for their ride, he'd nuzzled at her pockets like he had Chad. She hadn't had anything on her then but the next time she'd gone to the store and spied the candies, she'd bought a bag. She went through at least a bag a week, sometimes more if they were training hard. Payton knew it wasn't healthy for them, but she couldn't help herself.
Releasing the gate latch, she led the horse through and re-latched it. Then, tightening the reins in her hand she put her left foot in the nearside stirrup and lifted herself into the saddle. Mineer waited until she was planted before he started prancing, because he was a gentleman like that.
They jogged through the back yard to the access gate to the Blue Star. Leaning down, Payton unfastened the latch. Mineer sidestepped through the gate and pivoted until he was parallel to the fence, but inside the gate. Payton's hand never left the latch as they did the maneuver. It had taken them weeks of training to get it just right.
Dancing in place, Mineer waited until he heard the latch settle into place before he turned for the pasture. Payton held him tight for a few seconds, but she wanted to run as much as he did. Loosening the reins, she buried her hands into his black mane as they bolted across the dusty, arid land.
Mineer settled into a ground-eating gallop, hooves pounding solidly on the ground. He veered once for a suicidal rabbit. Eventually he settled into a rocking canter and Payton sat back into the seat for the ride. Her own hair flew behind her because she'd forgotten a hair tie but as long as they were going forward it didn't matter.
They passed a group of calves that wanted to play. Giving him his head, Payton allowed Mineer to bolt through the group, scattering them like bees. He even leaned his head out to nip at a slow calf, but he never made contact. He was a good horse.
When they reached the gate on the opposite side of the pasture from her house, a couple miles away, Payton leaned down to let them through then latched the gate behind them. They turned left to follow the lane that led to the massive Blue Star horse barn.
Chico bugled out a hello as soon as he saw Mineer on the lane. The gelding Brock had borrowed was in the paddock closest to the lane. Payton guided her own gelding to the gate and hopped off. Loosening the girth, she pulled the saddle and pad together from Mineer's back and flung them over the top rail of the fence. Then removed the bridle. He could hang out with Chico until she was done visiting.
Payton waved at a few of the hands as she walked toward the house, but she didn't see Brock. Jackson fell into step beside her as she mounted the front steps of the long, two story ranch house the Lowells had been in for generations.
"He's delivering a calf," Jackson told her.
Payton scowled as she stopped before the front door. "Why do you do that?"
The tall Apache had Native blood like her, except Jackson’s was several generations stronger in his appearance.
"You had a question. Rather than see you fumble around looking for a delicate way to ask I provided the answer, because I'm friendly like that."
Payton laughed. "Right, Jackson. Did you see Emily last week?"
Immediately his faced went still and his bright blue, non-Native eyes cooled. "I did."
Payton sighed, her heart going out to the big man. "I'm sorry, Jackson. Cheyenne told me about the engagement a couple days ago."
He turned to look out over the circular driveway and the wide gravel area to the right in front of the barns. Payton rested a hand on his shoulder, wishing she could take his heartache away.
As long as she'd been in infatuation with Brock, Jackson had carried a torch even longer for Emily, Brock's little sister. Actually, they'd been a thing for a long time, until the bright lights of the city had lured Emily away. She only returned to Honeywell when she absolutely had to, like when her father had a major heart attack.
Payton liked Emily a lot, but she didn't necessarily agree with her life choices. Especially when they interfered with her friend's happiness the way it had with Jackson’s.
"She's not in love with her fiancé," he said.
She would have smiled at the hard edge she heard in his voice if she didn't know it would hurt his feelings. "I don't know if she is or isn't. I guess we'll see for ourselves if she comes back for the wedding."
Without another word Jackson went down the steps, hands in his jeans pockets, hat down low over his face.
Seemed like none of them were doing well in the romance department these days.
Chapter 6
Francine smiled when Payton walked in the door, looking like she'd just gotten off the back of a fast horse. Her black-as-pitch hair swayed down her back and around her shoulders as she leaned forward to give Francine a hug. For a moment, she longed for the youth she could see in Payton's eyes.
Then her gaze flicked to Garrett, sitting at the head of the table. Age had crept up on both of them in the past couple of weeks, but she wouldn't change anything about their lives. Yes, they were going through some changes, but it would be good for them in the long run. She could already tell.
Garrett was recovering and letting go of some of the strain he'd been under. The heart attack and broken humerus had been devastating, reminding him that he was mortal. Brock was more than ready to take over the ranch. He had been for years, but Garrett hadn't wanted to let go.
As she watched, Payton moved down the length of the table and leaned down for a hug.
"Papa Lowell, you're looking too handsome for your own good. How does Francine handle all that honey?"
Garrett laughed, just like he always did when Payton was around. "Oh, it’s a struggle, but she's the strongest woman I know. If she can handle an old bear like me, she can handle
anyone."
Francine watched Payton interact with him. They were friendly and playful, Garrett teasing her as if she were his own daughter. And Payton basked in the attention. Her own family lived on the other side of the county, so they didn't see each other much.
As Garrett talked about one of the calves they were feeding, Payton settled into the chair to his left. She looked up and smiled as Francine placed a glass of tea at her elbow.
It was like any other time she'd ever been in the house. Cheyenne didn't live here anymore, but Payton still came for regular visits because she loved them like they were her own. Garrett told her about Chad's plans for the wedding and she got a beaming look on her face as she listened to the details.
Surely Cheyenne had kept her up to date, hadn’t she? The two of them talked almost daily, and Cheyenne would never have sat upon good gossip for anything. Yet Payton was letting Garrett share the news like it was fresh off the press. She was a good girl like that.
Francine frowned, repeating the thought in her head. Payton wasn't a girl. She hadn't been a girl for a very long time. Brock still thought of her that way, but he was the only one.
Whether her hard-headed son realized it or not, Brock had staked a claim to her years ago. Francine could remember more than one incident where one of the hands had expressed interest. Payton seemed flattered by their attention, but disengaged from any real connection.
But she always looked to Brock to see if there was any reaction. And there usually had been. Brock's face would turn red with anger and he'd snap the head off of the offending ranch hand. But he would play it off saying it was because Payton 'was like a sister'.
Yeah, right.
Whether Brock realized it or not, he watched that woman like a hawk searching for a mate.
Francine smiled and waved as Payton left the house. She'd come over to retrieve her horse, but Francine had a feeling she was hoping to snag something a little more wild than that gelding of hers.