Beau: Cowboy Protector

by Marin Thomas

  The bull ride played out in slow motion…as if Beau and the bull were partners in a cowboy ballet of wild bucks, tight spins and wicked twists. Sierra was awed by the sheer power and beauty of Beau’s body as bull and man became one violent burst of energy.

  The buzzer sounded and Sierra held her breath, waiting for Beau’s dismount. He dove for the ground, landing on his belly in the dirt. He lay still for an agonizingly long moment before struggling to his feet. The bullfighters distracted Warrior and Beau jogged to the rails.

  “Folks, that’s only the second time this season Warrior has been ridden to eight! What do the judges think of Adams’s ride?”

  The fans gaped at the JumboTron waiting for the score to flash across the screen, but Sierra’s attention remained riveted on Beau. Several cowboys slapped his back and shook his hand. When he removed his face mask, he glanced toward the stands. She waved her arms wildly and he grinned the moment he caught sight of her.

  “Eighty-seven! Beau Adams beat Pete Monroe by one point! Congratulations, Adams!”

  Sierra joined the fans in honoring Beau with a resounding round of applause. Proud of his accomplishment, she made her way out of the stands and down to the cowboy-ready area, where she promptly put the brakes on when she witnessed a blonde woman throw her arms around Beau’s neck.

  Friends…remember?

  To heck with that. Sierra marched toward the pair. Beau might not be her cowboy forever, but he was darn sure her cowboy for today.

  Chapter Six

  “For a minute, I thought Duke was riding that bull.” Melanie Kimball released Beau from her hug. “You must be a late bloomer.”

  “Looks that way.” Beau studied his pretty former girlfriend, relieved he felt no twinges or surges of attraction to her. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good.” She stuck out her lower lip in a playful pout. “Maybe a little lonely.”

  Still no twinge…yeah, he was definitely over Melanie.

  A cough caught his attention. “Sierra.” Beau didn’t have a chance to introduce the women before Melanie spoke.

  “You must be the reason Beau’s winning.” Melanie offered her hand and Sierra hesitated before shaking it. “I’m Melanie Kimball, Beau’s ex-girlfriend.”

  “Sierra Byrne.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sierra.”

  “Sierra owns the Number 1 Diner in Roundup,” Beau said.

  “That was quite a ride your cowboy gave today,” Melanie said.

  Sierra’s gaze glanced off Beau’s face before returning to Melanie. “This is my first time watching Beau compete.”

  “Really? Boy, could I tell you stories about him and his brother.” Melanie frowned. “Speaking of Duke, why isn’t he here?”

  “Duke retired from rodeo.” When Melanie’s mouth hung open, Beau explained. “He’s married now and spends his time apprehending bad guys and raising his seven-year-old stepson.”

  “I never pictured Duke the marrying kind.” Melanie’s mouth twitched. “You on the other hand…” A rowdy group of cowboys caught her attention. “Gotta go,” she said. “Nice meeting you, Sierra.”

  Beau escorted Sierra through a maze of fans to the rodeo secretary’s office where he collected his winnings. Since their run-in with Melanie, Sierra had remained quiet. Before they left the arena, he pulled her aside. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “If Melanie made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “She didn’t.” Sierra’s blue eyes shone with sincerity.

  Relieved, he asked, “Would you like to browse the vendors before we leave?”

  “That’s okay. I’ve seen enough.”

  Before they exited the MetraPark, Beau bought coffees for the road. Once they left the parking lot, Sierra spoke. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  Fearing she wanted to discuss Melanie, Beau attempted to distract her. “I bet you want to know how many buckles I’ve won.” Her answering smile was weak at best, and Beau’s stomach clenched.

  “Melanie seems like a nice girl. Why did the two of you break up?”

  “She’s from northern Montana. The long-distance relationship took a toll on us and we grew apart.”

  Beau glanced across the seat and caught Sierra watching him. God, he loved her eyes…so big and round and blue. He wondered how many other men had fallen into their warm depths and drowned.

  “Why didn’t one of you move closer to the other?” Sierra’s question snapped Beau out of his trance. He’d better focus on his driving or he’d run them off the road. “We’re both from ranching families. When we’re not on the rodeo circuit, we’re herding cattle, hauling bulls or cutting hay.”

  Expecting a follow-up question, Beau remained silent. When none came, he asked, “Were you involved with anyone when you lived in Chicago?”

  “Ted and I dated almost two years before my parents died and I moved to Montana.”

  When Sierra didn’t elaborate, Beau pushed for details. “Did you and Ted try a long-distance relationship?”

  “We did. Ted thought after spending a winter in Montana I’d pack my bags and return to the Windy City.”

  “Chicago winters are nothing to brag about.”

  “True, but spring and summers along Lake Michigan are warmer than here.”

  “What happened when spring arrived and you didn’t leave Roundup?” he asked.

  “Ted stopped calling.”

  Teddy-boy’s loss. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t, really, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

  “In the end, everything worked out for the best. Ted’s law practice and family are in Chicago. He’s happy there and I’m happy here.” Sierra’s attention shifted to the milling cattle in the distance.

  “That’s the fall calf crop.” Beau slowed as he approached a line of cattle trucks parked on the shoulder. Portable pens had been set up to contain the young cows.

  “Are the animals on their way to the slaughter house?”

  “No, the calves are being shipped south to feedlots for the winter. Once they fatten up they’ll land on someone’s dinner table.”

  “I cook meat all the time, but I prefer not to think about how it arrives at the diner.”

  Beau didn’t mind talking beef, but he’d rather learn more about Sierra. “I heard you went to a famous cooking school in Chicago.” He hadn’t heard—he’d asked Irene where Sierra had learned to cook so well and the waitress had shared everything she knew about Sierra’s catering business in Chicago, including where Sierra had gotten her education.

  “I studied at the CHIC. The school was part of the Le Cordon Bleu program in France. I credit my mother with nurturing my interest in cooking. She taught me the basics at a young age.”

  “You must miss your parents,” he said.

  “Very much.”

  “I remember the afternoon their plane crashed. Half the town rushed up to Twin Peaks to search for them, but…” He silently cursed. Why the hell had he brought up the deaths of her parents?

  “It’s okay, Beau.” Sierra touched his arm. “I find it comforting to know so many people cared about my parents.”

  Roundup was a tight-knit community and those who’d searched for her parents had also eaten at Sierra’s diner once it opened, ensuring her business thrived.

  “I for one am glad you took those fancy food classes,” he said. “Growing up without a mother was tough enough, let alone Duke and I having to eat our father’s cooking. His specialty was anything that could be made in the microwave.”

  “Then I’m glad I helped expand your palate.”

  “Whoever puts a ring on your finger is going to be one lucky, well-fed man.”

  Sierra’s smile disappeared and Beau wondered at her reaction. Was marriage a sensitive topic with Sierra? He checked the dashboard clock—six-thirty. They’d eaten a hot dog at the rodeo but that was five hours ago. “There’s a burger joint about fifteen miles up the road that serves great onion rings.”

  “I’m not
really hungry. If you don’t mind, I’d rather head home and check on the diner.”

  “Sure.” Beau swallowed a curse. He’d been hoping to spend more time with Sierra—that she wanted to cut their day short was a huge disappointment. A few minutes before eight o’clock he pulled into the parking lot behind the diner. Before he’d shifted the truck into Park and unsnapped his belt, Sierra had opened her door and hopped out. Sticking her head into the cab she said, “Thanks for the lovely day. And congratulations on winning first place.”

  Panicking, he said, “Wait. I’ll walk you to—”

  “No need. I’m going straight to the kitchen to get a jump start on tomorrow’s menu.” The door shut in Beau’s face. Stunned, he stared out the windshield at Sierra’s retreating figure. When the back door of the diner closed behind her, Beau shook himself out of his stupor. Sierra owed him a victory kiss and he wasn’t leaving until she gave him one.

  He rapped his knuckles on the back door of the diner, and a moment later Irene’s face appeared. “Hello, Beau.”

  Right then Sierra walked into the kitchen, carrying a plastic tub of dirty dishes. She froze. “Did you forget something?”

  Beau stepped into the kitchen, aware that Irene eavesdropped as she pretended to search the refrigerator. “No, you forgot something,” he said.

  “I did?”

  “You forgot to give me my victory kiss.”

  The fridge door closed and Irene made a hasty exit from the kitchen.

  Beau moved across the room, took the tub of dishes from Sierra and set it on the counter, then cupped her face with both hands and locked gazes with her. “I warned you earlier that a victory kiss is a whole lot hotter than a good luck kiss.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across the fleshy part of her lower lip. Did she want his kiss as badly as he wanted to give it to her? He got his answer when she swayed forward, her breasts bumping his chest.

  He pressed his lips to hers, building steam slowly. When he slid his tongue inside her mouth she trembled and he crushed her to him. Their breathing grew hot and heavy, and somewhere in the midst of all the noise they made, Beau felt Sierra purr. Emboldened by her response, he cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple, before freeing the button on her blouse. The loud gasp that followed startled Beau and they broke apart. What the hell was he doing—trying to undress Sierra in the middle of the kitchen where her employee could walk in on them?

  Sierra stood in stunned silence, her eyes wide, her breathing ragged. She looked so pretty with her hair mussed, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen. Feeling as if he was on the verge of losing control again, Beau backed toward the door. “Better fix your lipstick.” He stepped outside and filled his lungs with cold, crisp air, which did nothing to calm his aroused state.

  The apartment door above his head opened and Jordan Peterson stepped outside with Molly.

  “Hello, Mrs. Peterson. It’s Beau, ma’am.”

  She descended the steps with the dog. “I thought I told you to call me Jordan?”

  “Yes, ma’am…Jordan.” Beau waited at the bottom of the stairs, wanting to make sure the older woman didn’t slip.

  When she reached the pavement, she said, “I’m glad I ran into you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Join me while I walk Molly.”

  “Sure.”

  “I need you to do a favor for me,” Jordan said.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you free next Wednesday?”

  “I’m not competing in a rodeo if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Would you be able to drive Sierra into Billings to see her eye doctor?”

  Beau recalled Sierra’s explanation for why she’d spent the night on the road and assumed visiting the ophthalmologist had to do with her not seeing well in the dark. “What time is the appointment?”

  “Ten in the morning.”

  An early appointment would allow Sierra to make the drive back to Roundup before dusk fell. Maybe Jordan was matchmaking, in which case Beau would gladly cooperate.

  “Tell Sierra I’ll pick her up at eight-thirty.”

  Molly found a place to do her business and Jordan pulled a plastic grocery bag from her pocket and handed it to Beau.

  “I get to do the honors, huh?” After he picked up the mess, he asked, “Where do you want me to toss this?”

  “I’ll throw it away.” She took the bag from Beau and they walked back to the parking lot.

  “Beau?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did Sierra have a nice time today?”

  His lips still warm from Sierra’s kiss he said, “Yes, she did.”

  “Good. She needs to get out and do things like that more often.”

  They stopped at the garbage bin and Beau lifted the lid. After Jordan threw the bag inside, he said, “I’d better head back to the ranch.”

  “Your father left a few minutes ago. You might catch up with him on the road.”

  Great. Beau wondered what chores had been neglected while his father had hung out with his girlfriend. “Have a nice evening, Jordan.”

  The drive to Thunder Ranch wasn’t nearly long enough to figure out what was going on with Sierra, Jordan and the infamous eye appointment he’d been dragged into. Instead of heading home, Beau turned onto Thunder Road and drove to the main house. He’d drop off his winnings and ask his aunt if she believed his father was going through a phase or if his intentions toward Jordan were serious, and the family had to reconfigure the work load to make up for his father’s slacking off. Beau parked in the ranch yard then took the front porch steps two at a time. He knocked once before letting himself into the house.

  “Aunt Sarah? You home?”

  “In the kitchen, Beau.”

  “Something smells good.” He waltzed into the room and gave his aunt a kiss on the cheek.

  “Butterscotch cookies. Suddenly I have all these grandchildren, and I can’t keep up with my baking.”

  Even though his father insisted Aunt Sarah was wearing herself out catering to all the rug rats in the family, Beau figured the kids took his aunt’s mind off the ranch’s financial situation and her worry over Tuf. He reached for a cookie, but she swatted his knuckles.

  “They haven’t cooled.”

  “I won in Billings today.” Beau set the check on the counter and his aunt peered at the amount.

  “Good gracious. You keep this up, and we’ll be debt-free in no time,” she teased.

  “Speaking of Midnight—”

  “Don’t you start in on me, young man.”

  “Start what?”

  “Pleading for Midnight to return to rodeo. Colt’s pestering is driving Ace crazy and it’s not difficult these days to set Ace off with Flynn’s due date approaching.”

  “Is he worried about Flynn’s health?”

  “Like all expectant fathers Ace hopes she has an easy delivery, but he’s also nervous about becoming a father.”

  “Why? He filled Uncle John’s shoes without missing a beat. Unless he’s worried about being too over-protective.” Beau’s father sure hadn’t been. He’d subscribed to the parenting philosophy of sink-or-swim.

  “Nothing wrong with taking care of your own, and Ace certainly does that job well.”

  “No argument there.” Beau moved aside when his aunt slid a cookie sheet into the oven. “Some horses shouldn’t be held back and Midnight’s one of them.”

  She snorted.

  “C’mon, Aunt Sarah. You’ve seen that horse in action. He lives for rodeo.”

  “I won’t argue that Midnight loves competition, but we can’t afford for him to get injured.”

  “Back Bender and Bushwhacker have had a heck of a season on the bull circuit and they haven’t even peaked. Another year of competition and I bet they both make it to the NFR and bring us top dollar in breeding fees.”

  “God forbid, but if anything happens to Midnight and we can no longer breed him, we’re going to need those bulls to cover his loss.”

/>   “We’re taking Back Bender and Bushwhacker to compete in South Dakota next month. Why not enter Midnight into the competition?”

  “Midnight’s been out of rodeo for a long time.” Aunt Sarah handed Beau a cooled cookie. “Who’s going to work with him? Ace is busy with his vet practice. Colt and Duke have kids and families to look after.” His aunt had intentionally left out Tuf.

  “What about me? I’ll go a few rounds in the ring with Midnight.”

  “And if you get hurt, then you’ve ruined your chances of winning at the Bash.”

  “No worries. It’s just a couple go-rounds in the corral. If Midnight looks like he’s not a hundred percent ready to compete, then we don’t take him to South Dakota.”

  His aunt’s gaze dropped to the check on the counter. “Okay, but no one is to know you’re practicing with Midnight.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  His aunt playfully shoved a whole cookie between Beau’s lips. “You be sure to keep that mouth of yours full and don’t let our secret leak out.”

  Beau grinned, chewed twice then swallowed. “I might need a few more cookies for the road just so I’m not tempted....”

  She stuffed cookies into a Baggie then handed it to Beau. “Aunt Sarah, what do you know about Jordan Peterson and my dad?”

  “Mostly what everyone else in town knows…that they dated in high school and broke up because Jordan left for college.”

  “Dad keeps his feelings close to the vest, but do you think he was really shaken up over their split years ago?”

  “I don’t know, honey. I was five years younger and wrapped up in my own life. Why?”

  “Did you know Dad’s been seeing a lot of Jordan lately?”

  “How much is a lot?”

  “Every day.”

  His aunt’s eyes rounded. “I had no idea things had gotten that serious between them.”

  “We might need to think about hiring another ranch hand.”

  “Why?”

  “Dad’s been passing off his chores to me and Duke, and we’re having a tough time handling our own responsibilities and covering for Dad, too.”