The Cowboy Takes a Bride

by Debra Clopton

  “So how did you end up in Hollywood?”

  This was really good; he was actually trying to get to know her. This was more like the first day they’d met. “I packed up my car and headed out right after high school. Big dreams have a tendency to disappear if you don’t act on them early.”

  They were driving through the trees, and Sugar could see how the morning sunlight shot through the leaves like shafts on the road ahead of them. It was beautiful.

  “So how far to these cute little beavers you want to run off your property?”

  “Not far to where those furry nuisances are making a lake out of perfectly good grazing land.”

  She stared at the cows. There were some black ones and some gray ones, some with humps, some with horns. “They do look like they need a lot of room. Those are seriously big cows.”

  He shot her an amused glance. “You really aren’t a country girl.”

  “Nope. I’m having real withdrawal problems out here. Oh,” she gasped as the ground beside the gravel road they were driving on suddenly turned soggy. It was like lowlands after a flood. “This isn’t normally like this?”

  “A week ago, there were cattle standing out there, eating. If this keeps up, if the beavers get more trees down and block the creek’s flow completely, the water will be over the road soon.”

  Now she could understand his displeasure with the animals.

  They carried on through a small swath of trees and arrived at the creek, where a dam was built from branches and limbs. “That is amazing! Animals did that? Wow.”

  “That ‘amazing wow’ of a dam is a work of destruction.” Ross parked the truck and got out.

  Sugar followed. Wanting a closer look, she started walking toward the structure. The damage to the grove was obvious; tree stumps were everywhere.

  “Look at that,” she said, pointing…as if he hadn’t already seen it. “And to think they did it with their teeth.” She lifted her finger and rubbed her incisors. “That must be some powerful enamel.”

  “Obviously,” Ross grunted in disgust.

  “What are those?” She pointed to some trees that had what looked like wire wrapped around them.

  “Cages to keep the beavers from taking the tree down. Once I realized they’d moved in here, I had to start defensive action to try and save what I could. It’s unbelievable what they can do in a single night.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Not as well as I’d hoped. They get to them faster than I can wrap them.”

  As Sugar approached, she saw that in the flooded pond above the dam was a tall mound made of sticks and mud. “Is that where they live?” she asked, moving in for a closer look. She’d read that beavers live in a lodge rather than in their dam.

  “I wouldn’t go any closer than that. They could be in there and might think you’re threatening them.”

  Suddenly, one surfaced! It popped up and, with its cute little ears moving in the water like tiny shark fins, circled in a wide, slow arc toward the shore. Its water-slicked head glistened in the morning sunlight.

  “Look at him,” she cooed, bending forward. Behind her, she heard Ross tell her to step back, but she didn’t have time. One minute the beaver was in the water the next it launched itself from the water toward her like a deranged ninja!

  Sugar screamed and stumbled back as the very angry, hairy wet beaver landed in front of her, combat ready—talking in a language she couldn’t understand. Mini Rambo charged her. From this angle, there was nothing cute about him. He was like a giant rat coming at her, teeth gnashing, and all Sugar could think as she started to fall was, “This is your due for coming to the country!”

  It happened quickly. One minute, she was beaver bait as it latched its pearly whites onto her flip-flop, barely missing her toe as it snatched the shoe, tossed it to the side and headed for her. Dead meat for certain, Sugar was crab-crawling backward on her elbows when Ross swung her up into his capable arms.

  “Yah!” he yelled, stomping hard with his boot, the spurs adding a tinkle to the pounding. The beaver stopped, squinted, then apparently decided that picking on girls was an acceptable practice, but big strong cowboys who yelled really, really loud were off-limits. Whatever its thoughts, Sugar was not complaining. Oh, no. Not this girl. Her brain was focused entirely on the arms wrapped securely around her and the hard chest that she found herself cradled against.

  It was the best near-disaster she’d ever suffered through…suffering being hardly the correct term. She didn’t even say anything when Rambo took her shoe with him as he slid back into the water. How could she when she looked up and found Ross nearly nose to nose with her, staring into her eyes? Rambo could have her shoe! He could have both, for that matter. Time clicked into fairy-tale speed, slowing, while her heart slammed against her chest like a sledgehammer. She thought she felt Ross’s do the same beneath her palm, which rested over his heart.

  The country had never looked so good.

  “That was about the dumbest move I’ve ever seen,” he snapped, stomping away from the dam toward his truck, and effectively erasing her ridiculous romantic image.

  “What?”

  “That was about the dumbest, most foolhardy thing I’ve ever seen,” he repeated, practically dropping her beside the truck.

  “I didn’t mean for you to repeat it,” she growled.

  “Then why’d you ask?” His eyes were slits beneath the shadow of his hat.

  She flapped her hands in exasperation and embarrassment. She knew every word he said was the truth. It had been a stupid move on her part, but after that outburst of his, she would never admit it to him. “For your information, I’ve never been around a beaver dam, much less a beaver. He was cute. I didn’t realize he would pull a ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Beaver’ act.”

  Still scowling at her, as if she were dumber than the fence posts lining the pasture, Ross rammed his hat brim with a knuckle, pushing it off his forehead. His eyes glittered as he glared at her.

  And then it happened. She got a mental picture of the entire incident in her head…and she giggled. Oh, brother, she thought, as another chuckle escaped. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but it didn’t help. It really was funny.

  Of course, it came as no big surprise that he wasn’t finding her giggles amusing. His eyebrows dipped. His eyes fogged with consternation, and when his jaw muscles tensed, she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

  “This is not funny,” he snapped, even as his lips twitched.

  “Yeah, right,” she sputtered, before hooting with laughter again. He was looking at her like she’d lost her marbles. Maybe she had, but she couldn’t help it. “You,” she finally managed to say, “were so cute rescuing me—”

  “You could have been hurt. He almost took off your toe!”

  She sucked in a deep breath, regaining control. “He stole my favorite flip-flops,” she said, then giggled once more. “Took it back home to the little missy.”

  Ross bit his lip. She knew he wanted to laugh and she pushed for it when she batted her eyes and sighed, “You’re my hero.”

  “Not hardly,” he chuckled.

  She shook her head as she waggled a finger at him. “You can’t deny it after this. I owe you now.”

  He frowned. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Oh, but I do. You know, in some countries, after someone has saved another person’s life, that person is always indebted to them.” She couldn’t help teasing him.

  “I did not save your life,” he snapped, glaring at her.

  She fought off another giggle. The man was too cute. “How do you know? I think you did. He wouldn’t have stopped with my shoes. That horrible, horrible creature could have sliced me up like a hunk of baloney.”

  “Baloney! I got you before that happened.”

  She chuckled again. “I think you are just very modest.” She tapped his chest. “I think you know that I very nearly lost my life back there,” she said, her hand sweeping to her heart dramatic
ally. She new she was pushing, but really the man was adorable all bowed up and terrified that she might start following him around from here to eternity, trying to repay the debt she owed him. She couldn’t help stretching out his discomfort.

  He sidestepped toward the truck. “I’m taking you back to your car. Don’t you have work to do?”

  “At ten. It’s only seven-thirty.”

  “Are you always this much of an early riser?”

  “You mean am I always a pest? Could be. Sleep is overrated. I function on about five hours a night. I’m on explore mode right now. So following you around every morning trying to repay my debt is going to work right into my schedule.”

  That won her a glare. The cowboy was really grand like that. She might just have to keep him riled, so she could enjoy seeing him all fierce and exasperated. And being the only girl in a family of four brothers, she could pick and pester with the best of them.

  “Get in the truck.”

  She crossed her arms. “Nope.”

  “Sugar, you don’t have but one shoe. How are you going to help me? Besides, the one shoe you have is a flip-flop. You can’t work out here in girl shoes.”

  She laughed. “I’ll use those,” she waved toward the rubber boots that were turned upside down and stuck between the cab and the bed of his truck.

  “Those will swallow you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Give me the boots.”

  He looked mad enough to eat nails. “This isn’t working, you know. I am not going to give in and let you have my barn.”

  She held out a hand. “Boot, please. I have to help my hero.”

  “Would you stop that?”

  “Nope. I owe you, and I always pay my debts, so let me help.”

  He scowled and reached for the boots. Oh yeah, she’d won. Still she smiled innocently.

  He dropped his chin to his chest and she could feel his pain. She loved it.

  Chapter Eight

  Looking down at his boots, Ross drew in a deep breath and then blew it out slowly. He wanted to believe that thinking Sugar was going to land in the creek had him all shook up—and it had scared him, but holding her in his arms was what still had him rattled.

  She had him at a disadvantage, turning on that smile and those dimples, along with the funny wit he’d noticed that first day.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” she said.

  She’d pulled on his seven-sizes-too-big-for-her boots and stood smiling at him. She was having entirely too much fun at his expense. “If you say so,” he growled, turning to the truck. He could hear her chuckling behind him, and despite himself, he smiled. He tugged on his gloves and strapped on his tool belt, all the while trying to ignore that Sugar had walked up beside him and was peering into the bed of his truck.

  “That looks like a lot of wire. How many trees are you planning to cage?”

  He smiled at her word choice. “A few,” he said, as he grabbed the roll of galvanized fence wire. “Watch your step in those boots,” he cautioned, then headed toward a tree. She followed at a slower pace.

  He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t enjoying her company, but that would be a lie. Fact was, this was what he prayed for. Not Sugar necessarily, but a wife who would enjoy getting out on the ranch and working beside him. Of course, he knew Sugar was just trying to soften him up so she could get what she wanted. And while that put a crimp in his contentment, the truth was he had softened up a little. Not that he would tell her. He wouldn’t want to give her false hope. He wasn’t changing his mind.

  He dropped the wire and unrolled a section before cutting it the right length to go around the tree trunk. He pulled it up, then moved to the tree, where he’d already installed stakes the day before. He didn’t need any help, and could only guess the conspiring old fellas’ motives for convincing Sugar that she should come to his rescue. Still, as he wrapped the wire around the tree, he decided to humor her. “Can you hold the two ends together for me?” he asked.

  “Sure thing,” she said, moving close.

  He immediately realized that humoring her wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Man, but the woman smelled great. “So tell me why you want to be an actress,” he blurted out, needing something to remind him of why letting her get too close wasn’t a smart thing to do. “It’s a hard life.” He grabbed wire ties from his belt, and needle-nose pliers, and promised himself that no matter what this morning held, he was going to stick to his guns. He had to keep his head straight where Sugar Rae Lenox was concerned.

  Sugar tried to concentrate on Ross’s question, but the truth was, it was difficult. There was no denying that she was attracted to him. She couldn’t help it. But she sucked in a deep breath and vowed to keep her eyes on her objective: making friends with him, and praying that God would change Ross’s mind for her. Because truly, that was where her hope lay. All she could do was be herself.

  Of course, she was used to his question. She’d been asked it so many times that she sometimes got a little miffed by it. But not today.

  “People look at me like I’m crazy to want something so much. Something that is such a long shot. But I feel it, here.” She put her hand on her heart, then touched her temple. “And here. It’s not like it’s just a whim. I went into it knowing the odds were against me. Knowing that the average actor makes below minimum wage and has to have a second job to actually pay the rent…. But still, I had to do it.”

  The corners of his mouth tilted up, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded. Almost as if he got it, which made her plunge in, full speed ahead, trying to help him understand. In understanding, there was hope.

  “I’m listening. Go on,” he said.

  “I can’t really explain it. My parents…” She took a breath. “You know I said I’d tell you the story behind my name? Well, if you have the time, this is a good place to tell you.”

  “I have all the time in the world and I’m really interested. But I still want to hear the rest of the story on what drives you to be an actress.”

  “Oh, you will. In a way it’s all intertwined.”

  He paused to smile at her. “Hit me with your best shot. I’m all ears.”

  Normally, she told the short version of her story. But since he already knew some of it, she decided to be open. And of course, this was all about building a friendship. That meant opening up and sharing. What could it hurt?

  “See, I was born premature and wasn’t given much of a chance of surviving. Sugar Ray was at his prime during that time, and the entire world was rooting for the lightweight champ…so because of the similarities in our last names, my parents started calling me Sugar, their little fighter. I was originally supposed to be Amanda Marie Lenox. Do I look like an Amanda Marie?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You look like Sugar Rae.”

  “That’s right, I do,” she declared. “Nothing against the names Amanda or Marie, I’m just Sugar Rae. Maybe I’m partial to my name because so many people were chanting it at me before I even weighed three pounds. But my mom says everyone in the hospital knew Sugar Rae was the tiny baby on the fourth floor fighting for her life. And they were all rooting and praying for me. I still have a couple of banners packed away back home that the nursing staff made, saying, ‘Come on, Sugar Rae, you can do it!’ My parents love to tell that story and how in addition to the nurses chanting it to me, people passing by the preemie wing could be heard saying it. And that was where it began…this quest. What started as an affirmation for me—wanting to fight like they told me—became a motto as I grew up. I started out a fighter for surviving. I’ve been surviving ever since. I had several complications that lingered and took years to correct, through countless operations as I grew older. Which meant that I spent a lot of time recuperating, sick at home, watching television.”

  Through with binding the wire, Ross gave her his full attention. “I think I get it. They helped you,” he said, his voice thoughtful.

  He understood. Sugar’s throat tightened, but she stru
ggled not to cry. She still didn’t want his pity. “Yep,” she said, copying Stanley. “Those terrific stars took a bored little girl to wonderful worlds of make-believe. I can’t even remember the first time I said, ‘I’m going to be a star.’ It was just there, in my head and heart, as if it was supposed to be. My parents and my four brothers were all supportive when I was small. I didn’t know that they thought the dream would eventually go away and I would decide what I really wanted to do with my life. But when I joined the drama club in high school and the choir, and then told my parents that I wanted to major in theater in college, they started to balk.”

  She paused and Ross looked at her encouragingly. “I have the most wonderful family in the world, don’t get me wrong, but I’m the baby girl, the little sis who’s been through so much. They just didn’t want to see me go into something with such a high rate of failure. They were, and are still, trying to protect me.”

  “I can understand that,” Ross said, making no move to cut wire for another tree. Instead, he crossed his arms and asked, “So they still don’t support you?”

  It surprised her that it still hurt. She looked away, across the flooded pasture. “They pretend. But deep down they don’t get it, and would rather I just come home.” She met his attentive gaze. “They raised me to believe I could do anything if I set my mind to it…but without meaning to, they put those dreams inside a nice, neat box. I was supposed to grow up and pick my dreams out of that safe box.”

  Ross lifted a dark brow. “But you don’t take the safe route to anything. You’re Sugar Rae.”

  She smiled, feeling lighter at heart. “I try not to. But that’s not really how I think. I just know that this is what I’m supposed to do. God has a plan for me, I know it. I just can’t seem to get there.” She didn’t go into how she thought God was toying with her sometimes. How it felt as if He were holding a carrot out and watching her suffer as she tried to reach it. That sounded too negative, and she didn’t want to give in to that feeling. “Failure isn’t an option to me. I believe I’m meant to be an actress. And I know some people look at that as such a frivolous career. But, if God puts a song in your heart, I believe you should sing that song. This song has been in my heart from the beginning—how do I just stop singing? How do I walk away from something that is a part of me?”