Cowgirl Come Home

by Debra Salonen - Big Sky Mavericks 03 - Cowgirl Come Home

  “Sleep is for sissies.”

  He kissed her, his tongue impetuous, taking advantage of her willingness to play. The barn was warmed from the sunlight that found its way through a cracked window here, an open stall there. She felt at home here—and in his arms, and she was eager to recapture the memory of their first time.

  “How come we’re not in the loft?”

  “No hay. Can you imagine?” The mischievous glint in his true blue eyes made something elemental and pure take hold in her heart. “I hope the next renter shows better form than to let the hay mow run dry. Making love out in the open like this is dangerous. Anybody could walk in on us.”

  She threw a leg across his lap and positioned herself so she could unbutton his shirt. “Your brother, for instance. Didn’t you say he lives next door?”

  He worked his hands under the hem of her denim skirt, lifting it around her hips. “A mile or two away, but, yes, Austen could show up. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  She found the idea slightly titillating. She pulled his shirt up and off then took a playful bite of the corded muscle at the top of one shoulder. “Or your sister. I heard Mia’s in town.”

  He squeezed her buttocks, rocking her forward to feel his hardness. “She is. With her kids. They’re swimming at my house at the moment. So I think we’re safe.”

  Safe. A funny word that had little bearing on what she was feeling right now. Being with Paul pushed her so far out of her comfort zone she wasn’t sure she’d ever find her way back. But he made her want to come back for more.

  She pulled off her tank top, with the built-in bra. “Being with you is never safe,” she admitted. “But it’s worth the risk. Always.”

  He kissed her breasts, teasing the nipples into perky points, then suckled. She wiggled and rocked against him, her body remembering what was coming. “I needed this so much.”

  “Me, too,” Paul admitted. “You have no idea.”

  Was his tone as needy—desperate, really—as he thought it sounded? Did he care? Not a bit.

  He thought about her a thousand times a day. Reached for his phone to call or text her every few minutes. He didn’t make those calls because his life had been under a microscope since their return from Reno. His big nosy family wanted answers. What the hell was he doing dropping out of his life for a day to fly Bailey Jenkins to Reno? “I helped a dying man make peace. Exactly what any of you would have done if you were asked.”

  He’d kept his answer simple because he knew that was all they could handle…now. Eventually, he’d break the rest of the news: “I love Bailey. I’ve always loved her. The past is past. Get over it.”

  In the meantime, he worked his ass off trying to prove nothing had changed…when in fact, his very chemical makeup was rearranged, re-focused, elementally different.

  He woke up to her scent every morning even though she wasn’t in bed with him. But she would be someday. Sooner rather than later, he hoped.

  He pressed his face to her chest and breathed in his fix, then stood, gently depositing her where he’d been sitting. “Skirt…works. Jeans…not so much.”

  “Good point, but, honey, promise me you won’t start wearing a skirt to work. People would definitely talk.”

  He laughed. “It’s a deal,” he said, pulling a condom from his hip pocket. He bit down on the edge of the wrapper so he could use both hands to get out of his jeans.

  After removing her skirt and panties, Bailey moved to her knees at the edge of the bale and took the foil package. She opened it and was ready when he stepped to her. “The best part of the barn is daylight. So I can see your beautiful body,” she said, unrolling the condom.

  “Hey. That’s my line.”

  She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to kiss her as they fell backward. That she trusted him to make sure they landed softly was the highest of compliments. And a huge turn on. Luckily, she was ready when he entered her, confirming her pleasure with a long, low moan that nearly had him coming on the first thrust. Focus. Pleasure. Bailey. Me.

  Each wiggle and grind sharpened the razor’s edge of glory. Her shout of triumph took him straight over the edge. He poured the tangible part of him into her, even though he couldn’t share his heart. Not yet. But soon. Please God.

  Ever-practical Bailey managed to produce a purse-size package of tissues and tidied them both up, grinning the whole time. As they dressed, she asked about the new renter he was meeting in a few minutes.

  “I can’t remember her name, but it’s written down in my notebook in the truck. She’s from California. Raises llamas and alpacas and works part time for the school. She was buying a place near Livingston that fell through.”

  “Interesting. Did you tell her you were taken?”

  He laughed. “No doubt she gathered that when I told her my girlfriend and I would be here to greet her.”

  “Well, as much as I’d love to stay and stake my turf, I can’t. Mom and the Dazzling Minions are waiting for me. I truly have to dash. If this was California, I could blame traffic, but…” She leaned in to kiss him. “No returning that sleeping bag. We might need it again.”

  *

  Girlfriend, the word followed her all the way to the handicap-parking place closest to Exhibit Hall-A. The word both pleased and terrified her.

  When she heard Paul’s parents were back in town, she’d held her breath for two days expecting a confrontation. Nobody came. Then she overheard two of the Dazzling Minions talking about how Big Z’s narrowly avoided a lawsuit from some unhappy customer. Bailey didn’t know if their trip to Reno was partly to blame or the fact she was back in his life. She hadn’t found the courage to ask.

  She popped the trunk of her mother’s car and got out. She’d needed to purchase a keyed cash box—to hold all the money she hoped to make—and three more Lucite earring displays. After four days of non-stop list-making and consecutive shopping trips to Bozeman, she was afraid to use her phone to check her credit card balance.

  Today’s run undoubtedly put her close to maxing out her limit. But she’d told herself she couldn’t present the image she wanted using hand-me-down tables and her mother’s mismatched tablecloths. So, she’d invested in half a dozen folding tables, new display racks, three sexy faux marble busts to display her big-ticket necklaces and a dozen turquoise, white and black linen tablecloths.

  As the adage went, you have to spend money to make money, she told herself.

  She hurried into the big hall, which was bustling with industrious people running every which way. She flashed a quick thumbs-up to her “neighbor,” Sage Carrigan, who owned Copper Mountain Chocolates, then hurried to her booth.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said, her step faltering.

  B.Dazzled Western Bling glimmered like a freshly set diamond engagement ring beneath the fluorescent lights of the Fairgrounds Building-A.

  “Doesn’t it look great?” her mother said, looking up from adjusting a pair of dangling earrings on one of the four, barbless wire “trees” OC had twisted into surprisingly original shapes.

  Thanks to her mother’s addiction to Pinterest, they’d come up with several interesting and cheap ways to display her wares, including cowgirl boots they’d picked up at a thrift store then affixed to hunks of weathered wood to showcase her “Charming Boot Baubles.”

  “Fan-freakin’-tabulous,” said Cynthia, normally the most reserved of the Dazzling Minions. “This is the best display in the whole building, Bailey. We’re going to sell out.”

  The other three artisans chimed in.

  Sharon, the other homebody minion, said, “I don’t know who you had to sleep with to get a spot inside, but it was worth it. The sun gives me hives even if I’m under a tent. Maybe because I’m under a tent. Who knows?”

  Bailey’s cheeks were burning but, thankfully, nobody seemed to notice. Paul had called in a favor from Jane Weiss. Bailey knew because the woman had made a point of telling her. “You’re lucky I owe Paul about a hundred thousand
favors. This fair never would have happened without him. He’s a good man to have on your side.”

  She knew that, but hearing the words from a woman Paul liked and admired…made Bailey want more from their fledgling relationship. Maybe, she told herself. Maybe they’d take it to the next level—like being seen in public together—after she knew how well her jewelry sold.

  Tonya walked up to her, clipboard in hand. “Your dad volunteered to sub for us during our dinner hours or when our kids are showing animals, so I added him to my spreadsheet. He’s our go-to sub.”

  Bailey doubted that would happen, but she didn’t say anything. OC could disappoint them on his own…as he had most of her life.

  She scanned the sheet, mentally tallying up the hours. “Looks great. Thanks so much. Did everybody get a copy?”

  “Just about to pass them out.”

  The constant pool of acid in her stomach bubbled up like a cauldron in Yellowstone. If her jewelry didn’t sell, she was going to be in payroll hell—even with Mom’s help.

  Louise, who hadn’t been released to go back to work full time, insisted she was well enough to cover both her commitment to the Readathon and help at Bailey’s booth.

  Bailey was grateful, but ever since Reno something had changed between them. Not on Mom’s part. Louise was as cheerful and positive as ever. But for Bailey, finding out about her grandmother’s suicide had, in a way, explained—if not excused—OC’s motivation behind pushing her to have an abortion.

  Try as she might, Bailey couldn’t come up with a justifiable explanation as to why Mom sided with him? Habit? Co-dependency? Fear? Or did Mom have so little faith in Bailey’s ability to be a good mother?

  After covering the displays and packing up the last bit of trash, the minions headed toward the main parking lot while Bailey and Louise slowly made their way toward Handicap Parking. Seeing an empty table in the picnic area, Bailey walked to a table and sat. “I need to catch my breath.”

  Louise chose a spot opposite her. “A momentary respite before the craziness. Good idea.”

  The breeze had warmed up but nothing like the heat of a Central Valley summer.

  Bailey leaned forward, elbows on the molded plastic table. “Mom, Dad said something when we were in Reno that got me thinking, and I have to ask. When you found out I was pregnant, why didn’t you support me when I tried to stand up to him? There were other options, you know.”

  Mom looked straight into Bailey’s eyes for a good minute without answering. Then she took a breath and sat up a little straighter. “Now? You want to do this now?”

  Bailey nodded.

  “Fine. I let your father do the talking because he was speaking for both of us.”

  The conviction in her mother’s voice shocked her. “Why? Would I have made such a terrible mother?”

  Louise’s expression softened. “Of course, not. You would have—you will—make a wonderful mother someday. Watching you work with Chloe these past weeks has been sheer joy for me. But you weren’t ready then. You needed to get away from Marietta…away from your father. And I know this sounds selfish, but I needed you to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Bailey, I’ve never been deaf, dumb or blind—even though I know you thought I was back then. I knew how much you loved your father. I saw how hard you fought to save him from himself. If you’d stayed here, married Paul and had your baby, you would have wound up just like me—OC Jenkins’s pillar of support. I signed on for that job when I married him. I’m not complaining—even though there were times I wanted to give up. But I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love him. Just like you do. Despite everything, you’re here, aren’t you?”

  Bailey shook her head. “I came home for you.”

  “Did you?”

  Didn’t I?

  Bailey sat unmoving, trying to make sense of her mother’s words. “But it didn’t work, did it?”

  “What didn’t work?”

  “My sacrifice. I didn’t accomplish anything. I never finished college. I lost my husband, my horse and my career. I’m living with my parents and starting over from scratch. I killed my baby for nothing.”

  Mom let out a sob and reached for Bailey’s hand with both of her own. “I’m sorry you still have regrets, but I know—in my heart—what we asked you to do was the right choice at the time.”

  Bailey wiped her eyes. She wanted to believe her mother. Maybe someday…

  Before she could bring up the subject of her grandmother, Mom’s phone jingled.

  “It’s your dad.”

  Louise put the phone to her ear. “Now?” she asked after listening a moment. “Can’t it wait? He’s not going anywhere.”

  She looked at Bailey and sighed. “Are we done here, sweetheart? Jack’s ashes arrived via courier.” She gave a bemused sniff. “There’s a career choice you don’t hear about often.”

  Bailey couldn’t face another drama at the moment. “Go ahead. I’m going to wander around the grounds and see what Paul’s crew has accomplished.”

  As if saying his name had the power to conjure the man himself, a horn beeped and Paul pulled up to the table in a high-performance utility cart.

  “Bailey Jenkins. Glad I caught you. Do you have minute?”

  Bailey looked at her mother who stood and waved them off. “I’m taking off, too. Paul, thanks again for donating the book bags for the Readathon. With Bailey’s bling on them, they’re going to be a huge hit.”

  Bailey walked to the cart and got in. “How’d your meeting go with the new renter?”

  “Great. Her name is Serena James. She loves the place. I gave her the same break on the rent I offered Jack and Marla because she’s an animal lover and I think she’ll actually look after my horses, unlike Jack and Marla.”

  “That’s terrific. Is she pretty?”

  She nearly clapped her hand over her mouth, shocked when the words she was thinking popped out of her mouth like a jealous shrew.

  “Probably. I wasn’t thinking about that. My buddy called while I was showing her around and wait till you see what he lent me. Finally. Some space of our own.”

  Bailey grabbed his thigh and held on tight.

  Paul couldn’t believe his good fortune. Things were finally starting to go right for him. He had a new renter for the ranch. The job he’d pulled his crew off to put out fires at the fairground nearly turned into a lawsuit, until Austen soothed over the homeowner’s miffed feelings with a substantial break on the bill.

  Bailey’s work with Chloe had been a huge boon. He felt like they were in constant contact even though he’d only observed a few minutes of training the day his crew was cleaning up Jack and Marla’s mess in preparation for showing a new renter. But seeing Chloe’s proud smile that morning when she got Skipper to back up—a task she’d have to perform for the showmanship judges—made his feelings gel. Bailey belonged in his life. Period.

  He just had to convince her—and his family. The fair provided the perfect venue. Neutral ground. Lots of kids around. People…Austen…would be on their best behavior. And, now, he had the perfect place to do that.

  A minute later they reached the parking lot where horse trailers and cab-overs would remain for the duration of the fair. His pick-up sat adjacent to but not hooked up to a high-end stock trailer with living quarters included. “Chez Zabrinski for the next fourteen days.”

  “Nice,” Bailey said. “Bigger than anything Ross and I owned when we were doing the circuit for a living. Is it yours?”

  “Temporarily. I borrowed it from a friend who is taking a break from the circuit.”

  He hopped off the cart and hurried around to help her down. “Milady. Want to see the inside?”

  “Is there a lock on the door?”

  Her sexy little wink triggered a response worthy of his seventeen-year-old, hormone-enriched self. He opened the door and pointed to the automatic step that came out.

  “Nice.” She stepped inside and mad
e a three-sixty, running her fingers across the faux-marble countertop with its mini-cooktop. “Does the couch pull out?”

  He nodded. “I plan to put the kids up top and crash there myself.”

  “Speaking of kids…where are yours?”

  “Shopping with their mother.” He settled his arms around her. “They’re headed to Disneyworld the day after the fair ends. So this was her last chance to get them packed.”

  She rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Chloe told me all about it. A bribe to get them to Atlanta where her step-dad is interviewing for a new job. She’s not very happy about the idea.”

  She tasted of peppermint gum and cappuccino.

  “I know. We had a long talk about the subject last night. Markie’s okay with the idea, which irks his sister to no end.”

  “How do you feel about the move?”

  “Shitty. Scared spitless. I get a little sick to my stomach whenever I think about them being so far away, but until recently I never felt capable of being a single dad. You changed that.”

  “Me? How? You’re a great dad. I’m nobody’s role model for anything.”

  “I know this is going to sound strange but…I think there was a part of me that believed the reason you chose an abortion over marrying me was because you didn’t think I’d be a good father.”

  Her jaw dropped in obvious surprise. “That’s almost exactly what I just said to my mother. I thought she supported OC’s order because she didn’t think I’d be a good mother.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. “You’re a natural, Bailey. I mean that. Chloe raves about how patient you are and you give her your full attention when you’re with her…not texting or taking calls or planning for something coming up, like Jen and I both do.”

  “Horses require your full attention. I learned that the hard way. Plus, I love it when Chloe gets what I’m trying to teach her. It makes me happy.”

  “I think Jen’s a little jealous, which has made her step up her game. She’s been spending more time with the kids when they’re at her house.”

  He took a deep breath. He’d debated about bringing up the subject but now seemed like the perfect time. “You know Mia’s kids are here, right? They’re staying with Mom and Dad. Mia’s decided to move home, too. She’s meeting with the movers today.”