The Hot Cowboy (Western Romance Love Story)

by Alexa Davis

  It had gotten late and was dark out, so I read the list by the makeup mirror on the passenger-side mirror. The Vicodin had kicked in, and I was giggling to myself about some of the items on the list. Soon, Daniel was looking at me funny out of the corner of his eye, as if I was crazy.

  “Don’t look at me like that, this list is hysterical,” I babbled when I realized what he was looking at. “I am definitely not to play basketball or football or any game that requires the use of my hands, or could cause me to fall on my hands.” I looked at him and shrugged. “I guess I’ll just have to win the women’s world soccer championship next year.” I sighed.

  “The world soccer championship is every four years,” Daniel replied drily. “It isn’t happening again until 2018.” I waved him off and went down the list some more, snickering to myself, but refusing to share with my too-sober-to-be-fun driver.

  “You know, I don’t usually take pills,” I slurred to him a few minutes later. “I do not like the way I feel right now.” He looked concerned, but when he asked if he needed to stop, I informed him that I had no intention of vomiting in his truck. However, the moment I stepped out of his truck, I amended, all bets were off. He picked up the speed as I closed my eyes and tried to focus on breathing and the cool air flowing from the air conditioning.

  It wasn’t until the quality of the cool air on my face changed that I realized the truck had stopped and my door was open. My limbs were heavy and I was moving slowly, but when I opened my eyes, Daniel was there, reaching across me to unbuckle me and lifting me out of the cab. I stared at him while he carried me into the house and to the room that had been made up for me. Skipper was already there, asleep in his kennel beside my bed. Daniel laid me down and smoothed his hand over my forehead.

  “Are you sure I don’t need to take you back to the hospital?”

  There was a tightness to his voice that made me want to pull him to me and kiss him until he was happy, but I still felt dizzy and disjointed from reality, and I wasn’t sure the concern I heard was real or if it was hallucinated.

  “I should’ve known not to take anything they gave me,” I spoke slowly, so that I wouldn’t slur my words like a drunk. “I had a bad reaction after the accident, too. The pain was so bad that every once in a while, I put up with feeling like this, but my hand wasn’t bad enough. I’d just forgotten to check that this wasn’t like the other.” I shuddered. “Ugh. That time it was OxyContin. So bad.” Daniel looked at the bottle he pulled from his pocket.

  “This is Vicodin.” I nodded and waved it off.

  “I don’t want it. Please just get rid of it; I won’t be taking another. Ibuprofen will work just fine,” I assured him. He touched my face, and I closed my eyes to revel in the sensation. I forgot to breathe when, without warning, his lips pressed gently against my mouth in a chaste kiss. I stared up at him, and he leaned in for a second kiss, which I gladly returned.

  “Just get better,” he said to me, placing a last kiss on my forehead. “I still have to prove to you that you made the right choice in staying.” He winked, or at least my narcotic-fogged mind thought he winked, before he exited the room quietly, while I wondered if I had just become conquest material after all.

  The next morning, Hannah brought me breakfast in bed and remarked that she had half expected me to be dressed still, after the way I had come home. She clucked over my bare abdomen and legs as I struggled to get under the covers and hide the scars that ran over almost half of my body, thick and thin lines of pale tissue that connected and diverged in roadways, tracing the paths where tree branches and glass had traversed my body as the car I was in spun, then flipped and rolled until stopped by the tree stump that had nearly impaled me.

  Horrified that she’d seen me, I watched her face for the disgust, or worse, pity, that always met my eyes when someone saw me. I nearly cried when she seemed not to notice at all, simply straightening the covers over me and setting a tray over my lap. I looked over at the kennel when I heard Skipper whine, but Hannah informed me that Daniel had already taken him out, and he was just begging for my bacon.

  Sure enough, the tray held a breakfast the likes of which I hadn’t seen in ages. Thick sliced bacon was cooked to crispy perfection and hanging over the edge of the plate. Whole wheat toast and a single egg covered the remainder of it. There was fruit, yoghurt, and a glass of orange juice.

  “This looks amazing. You didn’t need to do this,” I objected.

  “Nonsense,” Hannah countered. “You are part of the family now, and you’re under the weather. Even if what happened yesterday wasn’t entirely our fault, and it was, we would take care of you. Besides. Something you said has Daniel all fired up, and he needs you to ‘fulfill his vision.’” I stopped mid-bite on a slice of bacon and arched an eyebrow at her. “Oh, I have no idea.” She replied to my unasked question. “If he needs you, it has something to do with horses, right?” She patted my foot and strode out as quickly as she’d come.

  Horses. I wiggled my toes happily, trying to keep the tray on my lap as steady as possible. I had always wanted to train a racehorse of my own. All my veterinary training, all my schooling, were to help and serve the animals I loved. But horses, especially breeds like Arabians and thoroughbreds, had fascinated me all my life. I picked at as much of the breakfast as I could handle, then set the tray on the desk across the room from the bed and looked for my luggage.

  I found my suitcases in the closet, empty. I considered panicking, then realized that Hannah had likely put my things away for me. Grateful that I’d had the good sense to put my certain personal items in storage rather than bring them, I opened a bureau drawer. Sure enough, my clothes were organized and folded in neat piles. I grabbed the clothes easiest for me to get on, which turned out to be a black scoop neck tee and yoga pants. I struggled a little with doing everything left handed, but soon enough I was downstairs, standing outside the library door, listening to Mr. Hargrave talking to Daniel.

  “But thoroughbreds, Daniel? That’s not only a high risk investment, it’s ridiculously expensive.” He sighed. “It’s a sport for the elite to prove that they are just that. You can’t expect me to hobnob with those yahoos, do you?” His voice grew and faded as he spoke, and I realized he was pacing the room as he talked.

  “I’m not asking for a triple crown winner, Dad,” Daniel sounded exasperated. “I can start small. This is something I’ve always wanted, and I’m tired of waiting for you to be out of the business of the ranch to do something about it.” He shifted in his chair, and the creak made me jump, thinking I’d been caught. “Just stop shutting me down, as though the only ideas that are valid in this room are yours.” Daniel huffed and went silent.

  My feet started moving of their own volition toward the room, in spite of better judgment screaming in my head.

  “Actually,” I offered, slipping into the room uninvited. “You do want to start with a winner, or at least the bloodline of one.” I shrugged and looked at Daniel. “What you want to do with those beautiful Arabians out there, is breed them to the thoroughbred stud with the winningest family ties.” I spread my palms wide at Mr. Hargrave. “I already have a stud for you, if you’re interested.” Daniel motioned me to carry on, and I used the computer to pull up an image.

  “This handsome boy’s name is Texas Tango. Named, ironically, for me and my brother Caleb, though he lives in California, where my father was stationed for a bit.” I turned the laptop so both men could view the jpeg. “I have first right of refusal for stud use of Texas T, if and when I need him.” I pulled up the page behind the first and showed them another image. “Now, this guy is Pioneer of the Nile, sire of American Pharaoh, and granddaddy to our little stud-muffin, Texas Tango.”

  I looked at the men, waiting for a reaction. When none was forthcoming, I continued with a sigh. “Pioneer came in second at the Kentucky Derby, and Pharaoh was the triple crown winner just last year.” Daniel’s eyes lit up.

  “Wait. You can get us triple crown lineag
e?” he asked.

  “Would I be so arrogant about it if I couldn’t?” I replied. Daniel laughed out loud and grabbed me, spinning me in a circle. “Woah boy,” I hissed, begging to be put down. “I’m still feeling less like a girl, and more like a Vicodin grew like a cocoon around me and I’ve yet to spring free as a psychedelic butterfly. Don’t forget to make note of that when I accidentally toss my cookies all over you,” I half-teased. Breakfast wasn’t thanking me for the spinning, but I was actually feeling a lot better than I had been.

  “Texas Tango, huh?” Daniel’s father said from behind me.

  “Yeah. I called him Texas T, when the cameras weren’t on,” I admitted. “But the cameras were never for me, anyway.”

  Daniel’s mouth was tantalizingly close to me when he whispered, “Not yet, but I’m sure they will be.”

  I was filled with equal parts terror and the thrill of adventure. Mr. Hargrave was nearly convinced; I could feel it. My dream of breeding a new racer that could outrun all others was mere inches away from being a reality. The idea of being in front of cameras made my stomach lurch again, but really, I could dodge a few cameras to see my dream come true.

  “I will, ah, take it under consideration,” Mr. Hargrave said, pursing his lips. My hopes fell, and I looked to Daniel for a new tack to take. However, Daniel looked satisfied with the answer. As I watched him, trying to understand him a little better, perhaps know what he really thought of all this, I caught his eye. He smiled slowly and winked, then licked his lips. Before I could react, he was speaking to his father again, and it was as though I was no longer in the room.

  I decided to escape while the getting was good, take a cold shower, and try to figure out where I went wrong in my priorities, that all my hard work had led me to a place I shouldn’t be, with a man I shouldn’t have.

  Chapter Six

  Daniel

  I was grateful Rachel had come down while my father and I were arguing. It was better than being alone with her and having her ask me how she ended up in her bra and panties. After the fact, I wouldn’t have blamed her for thinking I took advantage of the situation, but when she’d seemed so ill, all I could think of was to take care of her and make her comfortable.

  When I watched her leave the office, dreamy smile on her face, her poor hand in a cast that reached halfway up her arm, I was having trouble remembering the ranch before she’d arrived. She’d been here one day, and already had made my life more exciting (and anxiety-filled) than before. Her bravery astounded me, and those moments when she lost her self-confidence and became almost timid baffled and concerned me.

  “Daniel, are you even listening to me?” my father barked. “Damnit, son, just when I think you’re responsible enough to take over, you start losing your mind over a woman,” he chided me. “Maybe this wasn’t the right time for you to take over.” My head swiveled, and I met his angry stare with one of my own.

  “Right, because Mom wasn’t here when you were taking over, right? You were solitary and the ranch was your only concern, and the rest of us just appeared out of nowhere when you were ready to be a family man and snapped your fingers,” I retorted. “I’m not even gracing your remarks about poor Rachel. I’m embarrassed that you aren’t concerned about the wellbeing of someone who was treated so poorly on our property. But, the fact that you say you’ve given me the reigns, but you’re still in here shouting at me for not running things the way you do, tells me that I may be ready to run this ranch, but obviously, you aren’t ready for anyone to take over.” I grabbed my hat and stormed toward the door. “How about you let me know when you’re ready, since my degree and my years of experience and expertise aren’t enough for you to show me any respect.”

  I went to the stable and took Kaiser from his stall. I was so angry at my father that I couldn’t make myself stay one more minute. I quickly saddled Kaiser up, and he happily trotted out the gate toward the field beyond. I gave him his head, and he ran over the familiar ground until we reached the water’s edge. I jumped down and watched him splash and play in the shallows while I paced back and forth over the rocks.

  The fight was an old one, and I knew better than to my father get to me. He was a great rancher and nothing mattered more to him than our family and the legacy he left us. Still, it wasn’t like him to question my relationships at all, let alone accuse me of being irresponsible. I kicked a rock and listened to it bounce across its companions. In the distance, I heard hoof beats drawing near. Not galloping, but someone carefully picking their way across the unfamiliar ground.

  Smiling, I looked up. There, astride Peacemaker, was the object of my desire. Carefully, Peacemaker felt his way through across the bare, dry rocks that made up this part of the shoreline. Rachel perched in the saddle like there was nothing to riding in a cast, but I still felt worry settle in my gut as I watched her sway gently with the horse’s movements.

  “Howdy, Stranger.” I tipped my hat to the petite beauty as she pulled Peacemaker to a stop under the canopy of the overhanging Montezuma Cypress trees. She looked down at me and gave me a wry smile. She accepted my help down from the saddle when I reached up a hand. I was amazed again by how easy it was. She was so diminutive and light, it was amazing to me how much energy she brought to a room. Her sparkle was completely unaffected and a universe from the society women I was used to.

  “I wanted to check on you. I didn’t mean to cause trouble with your father. I am so excited about all things racing, especially now that the people I’ve worked with are moving towards a much more humane and equestrian-friendly racing environment.” She smiled shyly and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I would love to help you with my friend’s stud. I’d even come back weekends over the next schoolyear if you let me bring him while I’m here and get the ball rolling over the summer.” I offered her my hand to help her over some rocks, and she took it.

  “It takes some time to build a winner, doesn’t it?” I asked, adding up the months and years of work ahead.

  “And, that’s why most people simply buy their horses from others when they want to race. But, you don’t actually want to race, not really, do you?” she surmised. I looked at her in surprise.

  “How did you know that? Everything we’ve talked about is…” My voice trailed off at her chuckle.

  “You have a state-of-the-art equestrian birthing suite. That’s not the usual ranch fare,” she pointed out. “You are serious about breeding a special kind of horse, and that suite, matched with the quality mares you already have, will get you all the investors you need if you want to branch out and customers for your foals, if you can get the right stud.” She stopped abruptly, blushing. “Oh my God. I’m babbling. I am so sorry.” She ducked her head and pulled her hand away from me.

  I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t like how I felt when she pulled away from me. She was under my skin, and I could only think of one way to rid myself of the constant distraction of her scent. I frowned at the direction my thoughts were being pulled and wondered if my father didn’t have a point, after all.

  Peacemaker was well-trained, and I was pleasantly surprised at how well he followed us while no one had his reigns. Kaiser, on the other hand, couldn’t be kept out of the water, and eventually I had to wade in up to my thighs in the ice-cold lake to drag him out so we could head back up the hill.

  I boosted Rachel onto Peacemaker and lifted my dripping ass onto Kaiser. I led the way through my favorite parts of the untouched woodland and puffed up like a rooster at every gasp and murmur of enjoyment that Rachel made as we rode the sun-streaked paths. When the path widened enough, I dropped back to ride side by side, explaining that although the land was fertile, we had promised as a family to leave as much of the forest as we could intact.

  It was strange, finally getting to share the stories and purpose of our family with someone, and I realized I’d never brought another woman to our land, even those who had found their way to my cabin on occasion. Then again, this was the first
time I’d been alone with a woman who cared about the land, who didn’t even think before getting dirty, and who was more horsewoman, I suspected, than I was a horseman.

  As if she heard my thoughts, Rachel laughed in delight as we crested the hill and looked down on the herd of mustangs that roamed the wild part of our property. We stopped and watched three colts frolic among their patient mothers, who quietly grazed, unfazed by the kicking cavorting little hooves dancing among them. Off to one side, removed from the group and positioned above them on the far hill, was the stallion. The herd was made up of sixteen mares, three colts, two pregnant, and the stallion, who my father called Mordecai. My father had given this herd a home when a summer wildfire had forced them from their previous pastures, and they’d been here ever since.

  I explained to Rachel that we occasionally introduced new mares and adopted others out to keep the herd at about fifteen, so that they wouldn’t overtax the land that we’d given them. They were as wild that day as they were the day they’d been brought in, tranquilized, on trucks. We’d had them treated for the smoke they’d inhaled, the wounds from falling embers on their backs, and the scorched spots on their bellies and legs received as they tried to stay ahead of the blaze.

  “So, how much land is theirs?” she asked, waving her arm to span the horizon. I pointed to a crest of trees about a mile out.

  “In the wild, the mustangs would encompass a lot more land, sometimes they travel over a hundred miles if they have it. Here, we have segregated about 30 square miles for them. The herd is small enough, and there’s enough shelter and water included in it, that the herd could easily stay here forever,” I told her with no small amount of pride. “My family never wanted to use every inch of the land for profit. We pride ourselves on optimizing every aspect of our operation, to get the most out of the land we use and to protect as much of it as we can for the future.”