Courted by a Cowboy

by Mindy Neff

  “No, sugar. I stayed inside the barn.” Barely. She reached into her purse and rummaged around.

  “Leave your keys right where they are,” Jack said from behind her. “You’re not driving.”

  Instead of glaring back at him, she continued to feel for her keys. “Does he boss you like this?” she asked Tori.

  The child darted a glance at her dad. “No. I’m a pretty good girl,” she said softly.

  How odd, Sunny thought. One minute Tori had been fishing for gory details, and the next she’d gone as quiet and polite as a church maiden.

  “Well, I’ve always been a little on the wild side. Must be why he gets bossy with me.” She finally found her keys. Digging in an oversize bag with one hand and holding Tori’s in the other was difficult.

  She turned toward the Suburban, but Jack slung his arm around her shoulders and steered her in the opposite direction with hardly any effort at all.

  “I’m bigger than you are,” he said.

  She dropped her keys back into her bag. No sense arguing. “I’m operating under a handicap, or you’d never get away with that.”

  He glanced down at her leg.

  “Not that handicap,” she said. “I make it a point not to brawl in front of children.”

  He shot her a grin, and the power of it sent a punch of excitement right through her stomach.

  “You and me brawling? Now, that sounds interesting. Can I have a rain check?” When he opened the back door of the truck’s crew cab, Simba leaped off the porch steps and ran flat-out to bound into the back seat.

  Jack swore as the dog left muddy paw prints nearly the size of a bear’s on his floor mats and upholstery.

  “Simba’s invited to dinner, too,” Sunny said, trying hard to contain her smile. “See what happens when you push to get your way without gathering all the facts?”

  “Why can’t he ride in the bed like any other civilized dog?”

  “He’s a little clumsy at times. Has trouble staying on his feet in a moving vehicle. Being back there tends to make him carsick. That’s not a pretty sight.”

  “Is he going to get sick in my truck?”

  “Oh, no. Not as long as he rides inside and can see out the window.” Jack was looking at her as though she’d just landed from another planet. She shrugged. “You and my mother can commiserate. She’s not crazy about him sitting on her dining-room chairs.”

  Jack opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it and shook his head. He was about to hoist Tori into the truck when Duane Keegan walked up.

  “Just thought I’d let you know we got those boards replaced in the barn.”

  “Good. Is the herd settled?”

  “Like lambs.” Duane looked over at Sunny. “How’s the leg?”

  “It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “You shook us up for a minute there.” He gazed down at Tori and smiled, then crouched and touched a finger to her cheek. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  Tori shrank back against Jack’s leg as though she wanted to make herself invisible. “Hello,” she said politely.

  After an awkward moment, Duane stood, shifted on his feet. Sunny knew he’d been trying to be friendly, and could tell that Tori was uneasy. It was odd. Duane was one of the nicest, most easygoing guys on the ranch, always willing to help out.

  Yet she’d noticed that the only men Tori seemed to be comfortable with were Jack and Beau. Tori had built a shell around herself. Sunny recognized the signs because she’d built one of her own.

  Shells caused loneliness, even though they protected a person from hurt. But a nine-year-old shouldn’t be lonely. She shouldn’t be so willing to please, so focused on being good.

  Stepping between Duane and Tori, Sunny hoisted the little girl up into the back seat. “Let’s hop in the truck while your daddy talks business.”

  Simba quivered all over at having company, and gave Tori a quick lick on her cheek. The child giggled and Sunny relaxed. That was more like it.

  While she was here, maybe she could find out what weighed so heavily on Tori’s small shoulders. Jack was an excellent father, openly displaying his love for his daughter, so that wasn’t the problem.

  Perhaps a woman’s touch was needed. Little girls were supposed to be spontaneous, have fun, throw fits, speak without censoring themselves.

  Bringing Tori Slade out of her shyness would be a perfect project for the Texas Sweethearts, Sunny decided. She’d have to get her pals off to the side to decide on a strategy, though. All four of them were stubborn and outspoken, which could, on occasion, cause the fur to fly.

  Sunny mentally rubbed her hands together. Helping Tori was a good plan. Worthwhile.

  And it would give her another goal to work toward while she was here, occupy her mind so Jack wouldn’t take up so much space in her thoughts.

  THE MINUTE THEY WALKED in the door of the colonial-style ranch house, Anna hovered, her sharp eyes not missing a trick. “Sunny, are you limping?”

  “I don’t think so.” She’d tried her best to walk normally. That Simba had jumped in her lap right before she’d gotten out of the truck hadn’t helped.

  “Yes, you are. What did you do to yourself?”

  Sunny sighed, knew she’d better fess up. Otherwise they’d be standing in the entry hall all night. “Just a little accident with one of the cows. It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing, my foot. I talked to you on the phone. You didn’t say a word about an accident. Let me see.”

  “Mama, I’m not dropping my pants so you can look at my leg.”

  Jack raised a brow as if to say she was on her own and he didn’t mind watching the show.

  “Did I hear someone was stripping out here?” Storm asked, coming into the front room.

  “No one’s stripping.”

  “Sunny’s hurt,” Anna announced, hands on her hips.

  “I’m not hurt. Darn it, Jack. Don’t just stand there. Back me up before she calls the paramedics.”

  He actually had the nerve to pat her on the shoulder, as though he feared she was on the verge of hysteria and needed placating.

  “The hoof caught her pretty good, Mrs. C., but I cleaned the wound myself.”

  That effectively hushed Anna. She looked at him the way she did most males—with absolute reverence and respect. “Well then. I’m sure you did an excellent job. I know my daughter’s in good hands with you, Jack.”

  He preened and Sunny nearly gagged. Her mother was a champion when it came to catering to men and their egos. She did it in a motherly, perfectly Southern way.

  Before they could move out of the front hall, another car pulled into the driveway. Tracy Lynn was driving her flashy convertible Mustang, with the top down. Donetta, riding shotgun, held a scarf over her hair, and Becca Sue had the back seat to herself. The radio was cranked up so high that folks a mile away could enjoy it whether they wanted to or not.

  Doing a fairly good impression of Mario Andretti, Tracy Lynn wheeled the sporty car beneath the portico as her passengers grabbed for a solid surface to brace themselves. Shania Twain’s voice stopped in mid syllable when the engine shut off.

  “Pretty gutsy,” Jack commented. “I suppose your sweethearts don’t realize it’s been raining all day.”

  Sunny immediately jumped to her friends’ defense. “The storm’s already moved on. And it’s plenty warm out to ride with the top down.”

  “Steamy, you mean. The mosquitoes will eat them for supper.”

  Sunny laughed. “You think a mosquito could keep up with her driving?”

  “You’re right.”

  Tracy took a moment to raise the convertible top in case of another unexpected shower, then the women filed in, passing out hugs and kisses all around.

  “I ought to cite you for violating the county’s excessive noise ordinance with that music,” Storm said to Tracy Lynn as he bent for a hug.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she replied with a flirtatious laugh. “Besides, my daddy’d just fix it for me.”
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  “Don’t bet on it,” Storm told her, his lips twitching. “The mayor and I have a professional understanding.”

  Donetta whipped off her scarf and fluffed her riot of red curls; her matching red brows arched. “Hmm…I wonder how far professional understanding would stretch if Mayor Randolph found out how our esteemed sheriff built himself a nice little moonshine business right in the attic of his mother’s house.”

  “Storm Carmichael,” Anna said. “You did not!”

  “See?” Storm said with a smirk. “My mom begs to differ.” He grinned and kissed Becca’s cheek, then snagged Donetta around the waist as she attempted to sashay by him, and drew her into a playful hug. With her trendy platform shoes adding a good four inches to her already impressive five-foot-ten, she was nearly as tall as he was.

  If Sunny hadn’t been watching, she’d have missed the slight stiffening when Donetta’s body came into contact with Storm’s. They’d all grown up together, and physical displays of affection came naturally.

  So what in the world had that blip been all about?

  She met her brother’s gaze and he merely winked at her. Then Anna was ushering everyone into the dining room, fussing at Simba with every step as the dog kept dancing around her, tripping her as she rushed around setting heaping platters of food on the table.

  “Simba,” Sunny called. “Remember what I told you.”

  Simba charged back to Sunny’s side like a perfect gentleman.

  “What did you tell him?” Tori asked.

  “Just that he had to behave, and that if he wants dessert he can’t sit on a dining-room chair.”

  Tori smiled, a dimple creasing her cheek. “Does he like to sit on chairs?”

  “All the time. He’s been extra good at your house, though. I think Beau scares him.”

  “Does your mom really let him have dessert?”

  Sunny leaned down and cupped her hand to Tori’s ear. “It’s really a doggie treat,” she whispered, “but he thinks it’s peanut-butter pie.”

  Tori nodded and whispered back, “Okay, I won’t tell him.”

  “I knew I could count on you. We’ll have to make you an honorary Texas Sweetheart.” She saw Simba eyeing her mother’s ceramic rooster and darted over to grab his collar just in time. “You can’t lick the rooster, Simba. We discussed that, remember? You nearly knocked it off the sideboard the other day. Now, lie down and be a good boy. I’ll let you know when it’s time for dessert.”

  Simba obediently lay down and put his nose on his paws. He stuck his tongue out a couple of times, as though he could already taste his promised treat.

  When Sunny straightened, she nearly collided with Jack.

  “What isn’t my daughter going to tell me?”

  He was so close she could feel his belt buckle pressing against her side. Figuring out what the heck he was talking about took her a minute. Then she realized he’d heard Tori’s promise not to tell.

  She gave him a look of pure innocence. “Why in the world would you assume we were talking about you?”

  “You said ‘him.”’

  “You’re not the only ‘him’ in this herd, cowboy.” Stepping away from him, she put her hands on Tori’s slim shoulders and maneuvered her around the table. “You sit by me, sugar.”

  Sunny slid into the empty chair next to her mother’s place at the head of the table and sat Tori between herself and Becca, leaving Jack to fend for himself at the other end.

  Good. She wanted plenty of space separating them. The feel of his warm breath on her neck as he’d tried to get her to confess she’d been talking about him had made her shiver. She couldn’t deny that he aroused her—he was an attractive man.

  But she wasn’t about to raise speculations among her family and friends when she had no intention of taking up with Jack again.

  “What’s a Texas Sweetheart?” Tori asked, politely placing her napkin in her lap.

  “It’s a group for girls only. Becca, Tracy, Donetta and I started it when we were about your age. When you’re a Texas Sweetheart, it means you’re best friends forever, no matter what. You get to tell your secrets and nobody will breathe a word of it outside the circle.”

  “And you have to stick up for one another,” Becca commented from her place next to Tori. “Just like Donetta did when Storm threatened to give Tracy Lynn a ticket.”

  “Exactly,” Sunny said. “Even though Donetta hates the way Tracy Lynn drives, she’s honor-bound to stand up for her pal.”

  “What’s wrong with my driving?” Tracy asked. She and Donetta were sitting directly across the table from Sunny, Tori and Becca, segregating Jack and Storm at the opposite end.

  “We don’t have nearly enough time to go into that,” Donetta said dryly. “Besides, that was my Shania Twain tape I was defending.”

  “And your sneaky fingers on the volume knob,” Tracy added.

  “There is that. However, if the ticket threat had been for speeding, I’d have probably signed the affidavit myself, corroborating the infraction, then gone straight out to hang my panties on Bertha.”

  Storm choked on a sip of iced tea.

  Jack cleared his throat.

  “Girls,” Anna admonished, although there was no bite in her voice, only indulgence.

  Sunny leaned toward Tori, whose eyes were agog as her gaze bounced from woman to woman. “Bertha’s a big cottonwood tree out by the river. If one of the sweethearts causes a stir, hanging her underpants on a branch is the penalty.”

  “You wouldn’t have to do that, though,” Becca said. “New members get a whole year’s grace period.”

  “I’m very good,” Tori said solemnly. “I hardly ever cause a stir.”

  Sunny’s heart squeezed. She dropped a kiss on the top of the child’s head. “Then it’s official. We’ll have an induction ceremony next time we’re at the beauty salon.”

  As Donetta commented on the merits of holding ceremonies at her shop, Sunny glanced at her mother. There was a speculative look in Anna’s eye as she gazed from Sunny to Tori and back again.

  Uh-oh.

  Leaning over, Sunny whispered, “Don’t get any ideas, Mama.”

  “Did I say anything?”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve got that look.”

  “I was merely going to comment on how good you are with children,” she said quietly.

  Well, duh, Sunny thought, exchanging glances with Donetta and Tracy. She avoided looking at Jack, though she didn’t think her mother’s voice had carried down the table.

  Still, Mama was about as subtle as a stallion at a teasing rail when she got it in her head to matchmake. And from the pleased smile on her face, that was exactly what she was up to, already itching to boast to Trudy Fay Simon that she was finally a grandmother.

  In a show of pure dramatics, Anna suddenly popped up as though she’d sat on a tack. “Goodness. We’re terribly unbalanced. Jack, you come down here.”

  “I’m good, Mrs. C.”

  “Nonsense. Storm, switch sides and sit between Donetta and Tracy Lynn. They need a referee, anyway. You girls slide over,” she directed Becca, Tori and Sunny.

  Simba thought it was a fun game of musical chairs he ought to take part in. But before Anna’s commands could be obeyed, Storm’s cell phone rang.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m on call.”

  Sunny noticed that Jack hadn’t moved from his spot, either. He was watching Storm, and he seemed to be eavesdropping on her brother’s phone conversation.

  That was weird.

  Storm dropped his cell phone back in his pocket and looked at Jack, who nodded. Now Sunny was really curious. Since when had Jack and Storm started communicating silently?

  “There’s a wreck out on the main highway. A tanker truck spilled its load. Sorry about dinner, Mom.”

  “I’ll pack you some food to go.” Anna immediately went into action, used to this sort of thing. “No sense in you boys going hungry.”

  “I doubt we’ll have time to eat
,” Storm said.

  “Nonsense. I ordered an excellent cooler through my cooking catalog.” She retrieved a collapsible, insulated container from the sideboard and began loading it with chicken and biscuits.

  Sunny noticed that Tori’s hands were folded tightly in her lap and that her eyes were glued to her father. She put her arm around the little girl, confused when Jack rounded the table and crouched next to Tori’s chair.

  “Do you have to go, Daddy?”

  “Yes, sweetheart. Remember how we talked about always keeping our promises?”

  Tori nodded.

  Sunny felt a jolt behind her breastbone. He hadn’t kept his promise to her.

  “Why are you going with Storm?” she asked.

  His blue eyes shifted to hers and held, bringing old memories boiling to the surface.

  “I’m on call, too. I’m a reserve deputy.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t known that. She felt totally out of the loop, because no one else at the table found it odd that he was leaving. Then again, that was her fault. She’d acted ugly on occasion when anyone had tried to talk about Jack.

  He focused his attention back on Tori. “We need to hurry now, sweetheart, so I can run you home to stay with Beau.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” Sunny realized that she was still stroking Tori’s shoulder. “She can stay and eat with us, and I’ll take her home.”

  “I’m not sure….” He studied his daughter’s expression, the way a parent who knew how to gauge his child’s moods and wants would.

  “It’s okay, Daddy. I know you have important work to do. I’ll stay with Sunny.”

  The surprise that showed on his face was quickly masked. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded.

  He kissed Tori’s cheek and stood. “I’ll come in and say good-night to you when I get home.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and looked at Sunny. “How’s your leg feel? Will you be okay driving my truck?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. My leg’s fine and I can certainly drive a vehicle. But how are you going to get home?”

  “I’ll hitch a ride with someone.”

  “We’ll drive Sunny and Tori home,” Tracy Lynn said.

  Skepticism flashed in Jack’s eyes, probably because of Donetta’s comments over Tracy’s driving, Sunny thought. Or maybe because the word home was being bandied about so freely and easily.