Kissed by a Cowboy

by Debra Clopton

  “Hello, Rand,” she said softly, feeling just as soft inside at being in his presence. No, she could not allow him to see exactly how she was feeling. So much had happened over the last few months that had put a strain between them—even threatened their friendship. Their past went all the way back to high school when she’d been the prim and proper girl in school and he’d been the rebel, pushing limits and hanging out with the so-called rougher crowd. An unlikely pair, he’d been her first love, but that had fallen apart in the end when he left Wishing Springs to find a life filled with more adventure. Young love. Lost love.

  Her life had been wonderful in between then and now. She’d married the love of her life and lost him a decade ago. But she’d always had a soft spot in her heart for Rand.

  Now he strode her way, his blue eyes clear, no sign that he’d been drinking. No sign that he’d fallen off the wagon since getting out of rehab a few months ago. Pebble wanted to believe he would be strong enough to remain sober, but her fear for him was great.

  “It’s nice to see you, and you look lovely today,” he said gently. Always the gentleman, he tipped his hat.

  She picked up an apple and placed it inside a plastic bag, needing something to do with her hands, something to concentrate on other than the ache in her heart that was synonymous with Rand. “Thank you. How is everything at the paper this week?” she said, knowing his newspaper was a safe topic.

  “Everything is good. Not a lot of excitement happening in Wishing Springs this week, however, so the news section will be lacking. Though I believe Cassidy Starr has just arrived in town. I haven’t seen her yet, but she called Doobie and Doonie earlier this week down at the real estate office and had them turn on the electricity and water.”

  “That’s wonderful. Roxie would be so happy to know that sweet girl is finally home. Roxie always did have a deep worry for the life Cassidy was living.” Roxie had been Pebble’s friend and had always worried about her young niece. She’d worried about her up until the day she died.

  “Her parents put that poor girl through unreasonable trauma.” Rand’s brow creased.

  “True. I’m sure she’s relieved to be here.” She wondered if he was thinking about the trauma he’d put those who loved him through. “Well, I’d better finish up. I need to get back to the motel.”

  He nodded, always polite, always just distant enough that they both kept the small wall between them. They were walking on eggshells these days, and her nerves and her heart were showing it.

  It took everything she had to push her buggy forward and walk away.

  When she arrived at her small apartment attached to the motel office, she went to her bedroom, set her purse on the chair in the corner, and caught sight of herself in the mirror. She smoothed her graying hair and saw the uncertainty in her blue eyes.

  A framed photo of Cecil sat on the dresser and she picked it up, ran her hand along the smooth glass. “What do you think?” she asked softly. His handsome, kind face stared back at her, steadied her. She set down the photo.

  She could not go on this way. Something had to change.

  4

  It was mid-morning before Cassidy tugged on the first heavy wooden door of the barn and pulled it around until it was wide open and snug against the barn. Then she opened the other side. The door creaked and the stale scent of the interior engulfed her. She slammed her hands on her hips and stared into the shadowy barn. She’d decided clearing it out was the priority so she could make room for her organic gardening supplies. She also needed to take inventory to see what she had on hand, what was useable, and what had to go.

  She’d peeked in here after the funeral, so she’d known she would have her work cut out for her because of Aunt Roxie’s love of collecting things. The building was packed.

  The house cleaning could happen at night, but this was her day life for the immediate future. After Jarrod left last night, she’d really been thankful she’d been too exhausted to stay awake and dwell on the past. And she’d been too intent on her to-do list today to let him take over her thoughts. But then he’d shown up again and thrown her all off balance.

  Rebuilding the strawberry farm Aunt Roxie had loved was going to be good for her. More and more organic produce was in demand, and the whole idea went well with the B and B plan. Roxie had never considered having strangers in her home. The idea would have cramped her independent nature, and she had some old royalties on a weak-producing oil well she had a stake in that helped her manage when times got tough. Those royalties had dwindled down to almost nothing now, and Cassidy didn’t think about them much. But they’d helped sustain Aunt Roxie.

  It was time to see what was inside the barn, and she took determined steps that direction.

  She didn’t feel the same way Roxie would have about the bed-and-breakfast. She liked the idea of meeting people from all over. Well, maybe she was weird, but the thought of having folks—even strangers—in her home might help make the decision to remain alone from here on out a little easier. While she was taking care of them, it would be almost like she had family.

  It was pathetic reasoning, actually, but it was all she had at the moment. Eventually she would be comfortable and satisfied, just like Aunt Roxie had been.

  Grabbing hold of two old patio chairs, she backed toward the entrance of the barn and got them outside. She heard a hum in the distance and glanced up to see a low-flying plane. As she looked up, the plane turned in a wide arc, its wings tilted toward her, and she clearly saw they were bright yellow. Yellow. It was a crop duster.

  Crop duster!

  Cassidy gasped. “No! No, no, no!”

  Everything else forgotten, she ran for the truck, slammed the tailgate shut, and hurried to slide behind the wheel and crank the engine. A crop duster could ruin everything! She was going to grow organic strawberries. Crop dusting and organic did not go well together. Cassidy stomped the gas pedal of her old truck and shot forward.

  She had to stop that plane.

  Jarrod drove up the drive to his ranch house, relieved to have left his brothers back at the stables on the other side of the ranch where Pops’s home and the main ranch setup was. He had wasted no time saying good-bye to Pops, then he’d headed home to work.

  He paused on the porch at the sound of the plane. He’d hired a crop duster to get the ranch’s weed situation back under control. Seeing the plane in the sky gave Jarrod a sense of accomplishment after four years of moving, shaking, scraping, scrimping to make the ranch profitable while debt suffocating in its magnitude had weighed down on him and his brothers.

  But though he’d managed to keep the ranch bringing in income, he hadn’t been able to keep the ranch in shape. All manner of aggressive weeds, mesquite trees, yaupon bushes, and prairie roses had begun taking over many areas because he hadn’t had the funds to keep them under control.

  The plane in the sky represented the fact that for the first time since his father put the ranch in jeopardy with his betrayal, Jarrod had been able to hire a crop duster to begin the process of eliminating the insidious weeds.

  Over the next few weeks he would get the Four of Hearts Ranch back on the road to being the prettiest land in Texas.

  He glanced up to see Cassidy’s truck traveling up his gravel drive. By the sound of the old Ford, it was in dire need of a tune-up or a complete engine overall . . . or the junkyard. He moved to the edge of the porch, wondering what the hurry was. Just then the truck hit a rut and fishtailed. Cassidy kept control and swerved to an unsteady halt, momentarily disappearing in a plume of dust as the trail following her caught up with the truck.

  The door flew open and Cassidy, long-legged and wild-haired, barreled from the truck and stormed his way. Her hair was tousled around her face in complete mayhem, but the wildness of it didn’t hold a candle to the wildfire in her eyes as she rushed him.

  “What’s wrong?” His heart raced as he stepped off the porch to meet her. “Are you all right?”

  Breathing hard, she
pointed skyward. “Stop that plane.”

  “The crop duster?”

  She looked like she was ready to take him down if she didn’t do what she wanted.

  “You have to stop the plane.”

  Eyes so vivid green they looked backlit by flame glowed at him.

  She continued, “I can’t have chemicals floating all over my property. I need you to radio the pilot or something. But stop him now.”

  His pulse calmed knowing she wasn’t hurt or no disaster had happened. “Okay, hold on, Cassidy. The plane is way over there.” He pointed to the plane in the distance.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Hold on? Jarrod, I don’t have time to hold on. That plane is about to drop its load, and this wind is going to catch it and it’s going to contaminate my land.”

  This was a little over the top. “There is almost no wind.”

  “If he dumps those chemicals any closer, you know they could drift to my land with barely any breeze. Not to mention if he gets careless and drops before he flies over your property line.”

  “I seriously doubt it. He’s an excellent pilot.” Jarrod squinted back toward the sky, then back at her. Her cheeks were going to ignite if they got any redder. He swept his hat from his head. His memory kicked into rewind and he was suddenly back to that first day she’d shown up here. A wild-haired, ten-year-old girl with skinned knees and unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I’ll call him off anyway.” He pulled his cell from the holster at his hip and called Jasper, the ag pilot who owned the company. Within moments he’d explained what he needed and Jasper had radioed his man to move over to an area of land on the other side of the ranch. For now. It was going to have to get done sooner or later, though.

  “He should be flying off any moment.”

  “Thank you.” Everything about her seemed to soften in an instant as she went from warrior mode to regular person. Well, maybe not exactly regular. Nothing about Cassidy Starr was regular. She’d been an unusual kid. He was six years older than she was, and the first time he met her she’d come crawling across that fence and into this very yard, which at the time had been where he and his parents and brothers called home. She’d been a kid and he’d been a cocky teen.

  To this day he didn’t remember much else about that moment except that she’d looked about as wild-eyed and fierce then as she had moments ago.

  “Now, why are you so frantic about my crop duster? I believe he was far enough away from your place that there wouldn’t have been a problem. I’m not the kind of man who would knowingly put something on someone else’s land. He’ll have to finish—”

  “But he can’t. You can’t predict wind flow. It’s totally understandable that you’d be crop dusting your land. Weed control and all of that.” Her hand went to her temple now where she rubbed small circles with long fingers. A small gasp escaped. “Aw, bonkers! Look, I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem. I just realized that I haven’t thought out my organic gardening completely.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she sighed. “My head just hurts some. It’s left over from an accident I had before I moved here. But it seems I have made a really bad error in judgment.”

  “Nah, it couldn’t be that bad.” Jarrod wasn’t one to enjoy watching a woman look worried and depressed.

  “It’s bad, all right. I just realized I’ve based my future on organic gardening and the property I’m planning to do that organic gardening on is probably contaminated beyond repair by years of crop dusting from all of the acreage surrounding it. Your grandfather has had his land dusted for years. What was I thinking?”

  He grimaced. It was true. The ranch needed to be sprayed. It was the best way they’d found to corral the weeds and keep the cattle pasture healthy. “Look, can’t you have the ground tested? I haven’t crop dusted in over four years.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Four years? Really?”

  Even after all this time he liked the way she looked when her eyes lit up. “Yeah, today is the first time in around four years anything has been sprayed on the pastures. Believe me, if we loaded up and went out there to the interior of the ranch where he was about to spray, you’d definitely see that’s true by the weed and scrub growth and the prairie roses, which sounds nice but is awful if let run unchecked like it’s been.”

  “Four years! You are my hero. Thank you,” she gushed. And then grinning like he’d just pulled her from the edge of a cliff, she completely knocked him off one when she threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug.

  Cassidy couldn’t contain her relief. She had her arms around Jarrod before her good sense could kick in and put a halt to her mistake. She was wrapped around him like shrink-wrap when it hit her that she was molded to his hard chest and mauling the man she most needed not to be touching!

  Dropping her arms, she stumbled back and away from him. His hooded gaze hid his reaction from her, but she wouldn’t have seen it anyway because she was too engrossed in saving face.

  “Four years,” she croaked. “That saves me. That’s over the actual three-year qualifying time it takes for ground that might have been contaminated by chemicals to be eligible for becoming organic certified.”

  He rubbed his neck and squinted in the sunlight at her. “That so?”

  Her stomach dipped as he suddenly reminded her of the serious teen she’d idolized. “Yes, and since the house has been vacant, which means no one else has been spraying chemicals, and you haven’t been crop dusting, there shouldn’t be any problem getting my certification process started . . . I mean, the truth is, I don’t have to be certified yet. The farm is too small to have to worry about that, but I want to be as compliant as possible for my peace of mind. And ground that’s continually drenched in pesticides is bad for everyone.”

  He frowned. “It’s not like we use poison. I raise healthy cattle using minimal chemicals.”

  “I’m sure you do. Look, you just rescued me from a long and lengthy process before I could officially say my fruit is organic. I had completely forgotten about your family crop dusting as a means of land control. I never factored that into my plan until this very moment. I easily could have raised my crops just like Roxie did and claimed that I was organic and had peace of mind about it. After all, pest control done her way meant using a fly swatter or a rock. But knowing I’m compliant with organic standards that help people who need to have minimal chemical exposure is what I’m trying to do. You know, give them peace of mind when they come here to pick my fruit. Does that make sense?”

  His very serious, navy eyes crinkled at the edges. “Yes, it makes sense. But we have a problem. I’m going to have to spray the area soon. The outfit I use is excellent, but something tells me that doesn’t matter where organic certification is concerned.”

  “You’re right. Can you use something organic instead of the chemicals you normally use?”

  Her pulse raced as she watched him contemplate their situation. Surely he wouldn’t insist on spraying chemicals after this, would he? Her stomach felt sick waiting for his response. Or was it from attraction? She felt her eyebrows bunch together at the unwelcomed possibility. She’d been through too much with Jack. So much that she was completely shocked that she’d react to any man. Even Jarrod. Especially Jarrod.

  He’d broken her young heart.

  And then she, like a fool, had run back to Plano and soon after jumped into marriage with Jack. It had been a rebound relationship, she understood now. Doomed from the start because she’d not known him nearly well enough, as his later actions proved.

  She had overlooked the signs of certain tendencies when they were dating, like the fact that when they were out together he had no problem watching other women. She should have realized if he was that bold when he was with her then he was probably even more so when he was alone.

  Her head began to thump. She hated how upset she got when thinking of the man. A skirt chaser, Aunt Roxie would have called him had she met him. But she hadn’t bec
ause Roxie hadn’t been back to visit in all that time. Guilt swallowed her up as it always did when she thought about that. She closed her fingers into fists and clenched them, trying to force down the building anger, resentment, and disappointment in her own actions.

  “Hey, no need to look so upset,” Jarrod said. Concern rumbled in his tone, drawing her from her thoughts.

  She blinked hard, tried to relax, and started to speak, “I . . .” His gaze softened, grabbing something deep inside her, and she lost her words.

  “I’ll talk to the owner about it. We’ll see what can be done. I’ll let you know what I find out. Are you sure you’re fine? You’re rubbing your temple again.”

  She hadn’t even realized she was rubbing her temple. She had always worn her emotions on her face too. At least that was what Roxie used to say. Well, now was not the time to be showing anything. “I’m fine.” She backed up. “I need to get back to work. I’m going to be cleaning the house in the evenings right now and working in the barn during the day, trying to make room for any supplies I’ll need for my gardening.” Too much information, Cassidy. She clamped her lips shut. He did not need to know the details of her plan.

  “I’m here if you need me. I’m gone some, but mostly around,” he drawled in a gravelly voice as he squinted again in the sunlight.

  Dear goodness, he looked good. And he’d been almost too helpful.

  “I’m fine,” she croaked, backing up some more. She wouldn’t be calling him if she needed anything. She had all kinds of books on everything from planting her organic strawberries to house repair. And what she didn’t have in paperback she had on her e-reader, and what she didn’t have there she could always search for on the Internet. How hard could it be?