Taming a Texas Rascal (Bad Boy Ranch Book 6)

by Katie Lane

Which was ridiculous.

  She didn’t even know Sam. He had left her mama right after Maisy was born and had never come back. Or even called or written. So why couldn’t she let him go? Especially when everyone who knew him said he’d been a horrible human being. It was a million dollar question. One she had no answer for. All she knew was that her father haunted her thoughts during the day and her dreams at night.

  Which was why she had come back to Simple. If she had to recuperate from her injury, she planned to search for her father’s body while she did. She needed proof Sam Sweeney was gone. Until she had it, she knew she couldn’t find peace.

  The front door squeaked. She glanced over to see Chester stepping out to the porch. He reminded her of her grandpa. His face was weathered and his blue eyes kind. He shuffled over with two cups and held one out to her. “I thought you might like a cup of coffee. But I’ll warn you. I make it strong enough to put hair on your chest.”

  She smiled as she took the cup. “I like it strong. I hope I didn’t wake you. I’m a bit of an early bird.”

  “Me too. Lucas has taken to sleeping in—especially after his late nights of courting Miss Gertie. But me, I still wake with the roosters.” He sat down in the rocker next to her. Horses whinnied from the barn and he smiled. “That would be Cookie and Doris wanting their breakfast. They must’ve heard the porch door squeak.”

  “I already fed them,” Maisy said. “I hope that’s okay. The two young mares put up quite a fuss when I walked into the barn to check on the horse we found last night, so I gave them some hay. And I fed the sweet old mare too. Although she patiently waited her turn.”

  “That would be Misty. She’s old enough to know that patience is a virtue.”

  Maisy took a sip of her coffee and burned her tongue. When she glanced over at Chester, she found him grinning beneath his gray handlebar mustache. She laughed. “As you can tell, I’m more like Doris and Cookie. According to my mama, I came out of the womb three weeks early and haven’t waited for anything since.”

  “It’s hard to wait in your youth. You want everything now. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to grab life with both hands.” He blew on his coffee. “But as you get older you realize more isn’t always better. You stop grabbing and just enjoy what you have.” He glanced at her. “So what are you grabbing for?”

  She didn’t hesitate to answer. “I want to be the best saddle bronc rider in the world—male or female. And I want a ranch just like this one with plenty of horses to keep me company.”

  “That’s a pretty big grab.”

  “I can do it. I know I can. It looks like you and Lucas did. I heard you were damn good bronc riders.”

  “I was fair. Lucas was better. He could stay on anything. I used to get so mad when he beat me because I worked twice as hard as he did. Winning meant everything to me and Lucas didn’t seem to care if he won or lost.”

  “Like Sawyer. He doesn’t seem to care either.”

  “He cares. That boy cares a lot. He just hides it well behind a carefree smile.” He took a sip of his coffee and she figured hers was finally cool enough that she could join him. Chester hadn’t been lying. The coffee was strong, but it was also exactly what she needed after her restless night. “Lincoln says you’ve been winning a lot,” Chester continued. “That boy is darn proud of you. Although I think he wishes you had chosen a different profession. He worries.”

  “Join the club. Everyone worries about me.”

  He squinted at her. “It’s better than no one worrying about you.”

  “True. But sometimes I’d just like people to support me without trying to get me to quit. Bronc riding is in me. It’s what I want to do. People can accept that from a man. Why can’t they accept it from a woman?”

  “I have to admit the idea of a woman bronc rider takes some getting used to. But give people a good ride and they’ll get used to it. People love to be entertained.” Chester set his coffee cup down on the small table between the rockers and got to his feet. “I better go check on that horse. He wouldn’t let me put some salve on his wounds last night, but maybe he will today.” He started to leave, but she stopped him.

  “Thank you for taking care of him, Chester. And for all your hospitality to me.”

  Chester nodded. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “Thank you, but I think I’ll be heading out this morning.” She paused. “But I was wondering if it would be okay if I came back and looked around a little. I mean I know you didn’t really like my daddy, but I just need to . . .” She couldn’t finish because she didn’t know what she needed to do. Thankfully, Chester seemed to understand.

  “You need to close the book. I’d be happy to let you look around, but most of this land isn’t Lucas’s and mine any more. We gave it to our boys. And the land most likely to have your daddy’s body is Sawyer’s. That’s where Holden’s dog Boomer found the bone and where that ass Willaby took Dixie and planned to kill her. But I’m sure Sawyer won’t mind you looking around.”

  The screen door squeaked open. “Looking around for what?”

  Maisy turned to see Sawyer stepping on the porch. At just the sight of him, guilt filled her. Guilt that had kept her up most the night.

  She’d just wanted to get back at him for hurting her feelings. She hadn’t planned on keeping up the lie. She’d planned on telling him the truth as soon as her ride was over. But then she’d been bucked off and Sawyer had jumped in to save her, and in the process gotten a concussion that would take him out of rodeo for the rest of the season—or maybe the rest of his life if the doctor she had overheard in the emergency room was right. She had listened intently as the doctor had talked on and on about how Sawyer could possibly suffer from degenerative brain disease if he continued in bronc riding.

  And the last concussion was all Maisy’s fault.

  She knew Sawyer jumped into the arena for one reason and one reason only: the possibility that she could be pregnant with his child.

  Now she couldn’t tell him the truth. If he found out about the trick she’d played on him, he would hate her. And not just hate her, but also think she was a mean-spirited prankster just like her father. While she knew she didn’t have a chance with Sawyer—he’d made that perfectly clear—she still couldn’t stand the thought of him despising her. He was the one rodeo cowboy who respected her. And damned if she didn’t want to keep his respect.

  It was only one little white lie. If the rumors were right, he’d had sex with plenty of women. What difference would it make if he thought he’d had sex with her? Especially when he no longer had to worry about her being pregnant.

  But all her justification didn’t make Maisy feel any less guilty when Sawyer turned his grayish-blue gaze on her.

  “Maisy wants to look around your land for her daddy,” Chester said.

  Sawyer’s face registered surprise. “Don’t you think you should let Lincoln and Dixie do that?”

  “I plan to. I just thought I would do a little looking on my own.”

  “If Lincoln and Dixie haven’t found anything, I doubt that you can.”

  She doubted it too, but she had to try. Her daddy seemed to be calling to her from his grave. If she could find him and give him a proper burial, maybe his haunting would cease. It was a silly thought, but one she couldn’t seem to shake. Chester seemed to understand.

  “It’s something she just needs to do, boy,” he said. “In fact, you should just let her park her trailer there for a few days. That way, she doesn’t have to drive all the way out here from town.”

  Sawyer hesitated for only a second before he shrugged. “That’s okay with me. Stay there as long as you want. I’m not doing anything with the land.”

  “You should be,” Chester grumbled before he turned and headed to the barn.

  When he was gone, Sawyer sat down in the rocker next to Maisy’s. “I think he’s hoping I’ll build myself a house like most of the other boys. But that’s not going to happen.”r />
  “Why not? It’s a beautiful place to build a home.”

  “I don’t need a home.”

  The comment surprised her. “Everyone needs a place to call home, Sawyer.”

  “Really? Where’s your home?”

  It was a good question. She would say Odessa, but the place she’d been born had never felt much like home. She loved her mama and step-daddy, but she had no friends there. Growing up, she’d been a loner. Girls didn’t like her because she wanted to play boy games. And boys didn’t like her because she beat them at those games. She hadn’t had a real friend before coming to Simple.

  But Simple couldn’t be her home. The townsfolk were nice, but she didn’t doubt for a second they still thought of her as that mean Sam Sweeney’s daughter. If they ever found out about the prank she’d pulled on Sawyer, they’d really think it.

  “I guess I don’t have a home either,” she said. “But I’d like one. Being on the road can be lonely.”

  In the last few months, the loneliness had become almost too much to bear. She had never been depressed a day in her life, but, recently, she’d struggled to keep a smile on her face and a positive outlook on life. She was winning rodeos, but Sawyer was right—there was no money in women’s roughstock. The small purses she won didn’t even cover her expenses and rodeo fees. So between rodeos, she had to work odd jobs to make ends meet. With working and training, she had no time for a social life. Which probably explained why when she’d seen Sawyer sitting alone at a table in the hotel bar, she’d felt like she’d won the lottery.

  “So let me guess,” Sawyer cut into her thoughts. “You dream about owning some ranch that you already have a name for. Sweet Magnolia Ranch. Lucky Star Ranch. Heavenly Horse Ranch.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Heavenly Horse Ranch? I think I can come up with a better name than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out. I’d use my last name, but Sweeney doesn’t have a ring to it. Dawson is a great name for a ranch. Or has one of your relatives already nabbed that?”

  “No one in my family is a rancher. In fact, my parents are thoroughly disappointed I became a rodeo cowboy. I was their golden boy. The one who was supposed to fulfill all their doctor, lawyer, billionaire dreams. Instead, I fulfilled all their worst nightmares. Which is why I ended up at a boy’s ranch.”

  She’d heard stories about why the bad boys had been sent to the Double Diamond ranch. Cru Cassidy got sent here for raising hell at his orphanage. Logan McCord for stealing cars. Holden Lancaster for getting kicked out of his private school. Val Sterling for flooding his school library. And Lincoln Hayes for getting into fights. But she hadn’t heard what Sawyer had done.

  “What did you do to get sent here?”

  “The better question is what didn’t I do? I was a pretty rowdy teenager.” He took the cup of coffee from her and took a sip. He grimaced. “Damn, Chester still makes the worst coffee ever.” He handed her back the cup, then hesitated as his gaze lowered to the front of her shirt. She glanced down to see if she’d spilled coffee on it, but the shirt was clean. When she looked back up, Sawyer was staring out at the ranch.

  “You’re not getting off that easy,” she said. “I want details. What kind of rowdy things?”

  He shrugged. “I drank my dad’s whiskey and then filled the bottle up with water. I took my mom’s car for a joyride without a license and ran into the neighbor’s mailbox on the way home. I caught a bunch of grasshoppers and put them in my dad’s shed so they all jumped out when he opened the door and almost gave him a heart attack. Mattie laughed so hard he peed his pants.” A smile tipped the corners of his perfect lips.

  “Mattie?” she asked.

  Sawyer’s smile faded. “My twin brother.”

  “You have a twin brother? I don’t remember hearing about him coming to the ranch.”

  “He didn’t come here. He was the good kid.”

  His wording took her by surprise. Obviously, Sawyer believed his brother was the good kid and he was the bad one. She didn’t know why that bothered her so much. Maybe because she had fought against labels all her life.

  “Sorry, but the things you did don’t sound all that bad to me,” she said. “It sounds like you were a typical teenager, not a troubled teen who needed to be shipped off to a boys’ ranch.”

  “It wasn’t punishment. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Once again, his gaze lowered to her chest. Since she didn’t have great boobs, she figured he was trying to read the front of her t-shirt. Which was impossible with her sling covering half of it.

  “Have a Willie Nice Day,” she said.

  He lifted his gaze. “What?”

  “My t-shirt. It’s a picture of Willie Nelson and says “Have a Willie Nice Day.’”

  “Ahh.” He got up from the chair. “I think I’ll go get dressed and help Chester in the barn.” He started to head for the door, but then stopped and turned back to her. “About what happened the other night . . . it was a big mistake. We’re friends, Maze. Right?”

  The guilt she felt for lying to him evaporated at the words “big mistake.” A whole lot of hurt took its place and made her temper flare. “Sure. Although friends don’t usually sleep together . . . unless they’re friends with benefits.”

  His smile faded, and he opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it closed again. Finally he just laughed awkwardly like it was a huge joke. “Yeah . . . uhh . . . well . . . sorry.”

  As she watched him disappear into the house, Maisy felt pretty darn sorry herself.

  Sorry she hadn’t gotten a taste of Sawyer when she’d had the chance.

  Chapter Five

  “It looks like you’re feeling as ornery as ever this morning,” Chester said as soon as Sawyer stepped into the barn.

  “Yes, sir,” Sawyer replied with a smile.

  While his head still hurt like hell, a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He wasn’t going to be a daddy. He felt like he could breathe again. Although he’d still broken his word to Lincoln. He couldn’t forget that. Nor could he seem to forget the feel of Maisy’s firm butt cheeks in his hands. Or her sweet, hot center pressed against his stomach as she’d straddled him. And he wished like hell his concussion had lost those particular memories.

  “You looked a little like a whupped pup when you got here last night.” Chester picked up a hay bale and hefted it into a nearby wheel barrel.

  Sawyer hurried over. “Let me get that, Chester. You shouldn’t be lifting bales of hay.”

  Chester stopped him with one look. “I’ve been hauling hay all my life. I’m not going to stop now. And you’re not lifting anything. You shouldn’t even be out of bed with that busted-up head.”

  “I’m fine.” Besides a major headache and blurred vision. He grabbed another hay bale and tossed it into the wheel barrel. “I just needed a good night’s sleep.”

  “You need more than one night’s sleep. And so does that little gal. She looked plumb exhausted this morning.”

  Now that he thought about it, Maisy had looked tired. She hadn’t been nearly as feisty as she usually was. “She took a hard fall. She’s probably pretty banged up.”

  “Which is why you need to talk her into staying here a few more days where she has folks to watch out for her.”

  That was the last thing Sawyer wanted. Dealing with the memories of her was bad enough. Dealing with the real life woman was pure torture. Especially in a thin t-shirt that didn’t disguise the fact she was braless. He hadn’t been able to keep his gaze from the boob that wasn’t covered by the sling and the nipple poking through the cotton. He didn’t want to look at it every morning.

  “She has friends in town who will watch out for her,” he said.

  Chester glanced at him. “And you’re not her friend?”

  Maisy’s words came back to haunt him. Friends with benefits. Heat speared through him—just as it had when she’d said the words. It pissed h
im off that his body was so eager to get back in bed with her after the scare he’d had.

  A loud bang had both Sawyer and Chester looking at the stalls.

  “That would be the horse you found,” Chester said. “He seems to be feeling much better now that he’s had food and rest. He wouldn’t even let me go in the stall this morning. Of course, he has reason to be fearful and a little ticked off after what he’s been through.” He shook his head. “If I ever meet his owner, I’m going to fill his butt full of buckshot.”

  Sawyer understood how Chester felt. He was still upset over the condition of the horse. But the horse wasn’t theirs. “If the owner does show up, you need to keep your thoughts to yourself and your gun in the safe.”

  “You aren’t going to let that horse go back to its owner, are you? I thought better of you, boy.”

  “I’m not going to be arrested for being a horse thief. I’ll give Lincoln a call and let him know what’s going on. He’ll know how to handle this. And we probably should call the vet and see if he can come out and take a look at the horse.”

  Chester snorted. “It won’t do no good to call that incompetent fool of a vet. He doesn’t know a horse’s ass from a hole in the ground.”

  “I thought you liked the old guy that used to come out here to check on the livestock.”

  “I did like Roy Miles. But he up and retired and some city slicker took his place who acts terrified of anything bigger than a herding dog.”

  Sawyer laughed. “I’m sure he’ll get better with time. But for now, I’ll see if I can’t sweet talk Angel into letting me tend his wounds.”

  Chester was right. The horse was feeling his oats this morning. As soon as Sawyer approached the stall, the stallion whinnied a warning and kicked the back wall. Sawyer kept his distance and spoke softly.

  “Good mornin’, Angel. I hear you’re being ornery today.” The horse snorted as if answering in the affirmative. Sawyer grinned. “That’s okay. I understand ornery. Sometimes you just have to get out your frustrations.” He scooped up a handful of oats out of a bag and moved a step closer. “And I figure you have a lot to be frustrated about, don’t you, boy? You probably don’t understand why life has treated you so badly. But life is like that.” He slid up the latch on the gate. “Some folks seem to have all the luck while others don’t seem to have any.”