Kissed by a Cowboy

by Debra Clopton

Maggie was smiling too. “Sandy has a huge faith. I’m struck in awe each time I talk to her. She gave her life to the Lord not long after she got pregnant and she’s not wavered.”

  “It must be nice to be so sure about his will for your life.”

  Sandy frowned. “Oh, I ain’t at all sure all the time. Believe me, I’ve just got to keep my thoughts on him and hang on. You know, like I was a flying trapeze artist or something. Because I feel like that’s how he’s hung on to me. There have been so many close calls in my life, and even in the bad times I felt like there was a reason for me to keep going. And now I know it was the Lord. He was pulling me through the dark times like I was lost in a burning building or something. I couldn’t see but he sure could. Anyway, I know my baby is going to be a blessing to Maggie and Mr. Tru, and I’m going to go on to graduate from high school in two years and then go to college and get a degree in something. I ain’t got a real clear bead on that yet, but I’m praying hard and going to figure it all out.”

  Maggie was smiling joyfully as Sandy rattled on and on. Cassidy thought it was sweet, but what struck her the most was the girl’s unshakable faith. Even through tough times. She wondered what it would feel like to be that sure that whatever came her way God would work it out.

  As Maggie and Sandy ambled off toward the turkey frying, Cassidy watched them go with a lump in her throat. She had felt lost in the darkness so much of her life.

  “That little gal is a talker.” Clara Lyn had come over the minute they’d left.

  Cassidy tore her attention away from her thoughts, dazed.

  Walking up right behind Clara Lyn, Reba grinned. “And I used to think Clara Lyn was a talker. I stand corrected.”

  “I think it’s sweet.” Cassidy pushed away the melancholy settling over her.

  “Oh, I do too,” Clara Lyn said. “A sweet talker. And speaking of sweet talkers, how’s that handsome hunk of a neighbor doing?”

  The crowds had tapered off, most angling toward the food booths now, but Abby returned to talk to the ladies.

  “Yes, how did that horseback ride go with Jarrod?” Reba looked at her expectantly.

  Abby gasped. “You went horseback riding with Jarrod and didn’t tell me?”

  “It was no big deal. It was nice, though. I haven’t been on a horse in years.”

  “Well, you need to make sure to keep that riding up, okay? When Tru and Bo hear about this they are going to be ecstatic. They were starting to conspire on how to fix their big brother up right before you showed up, so I think they have high hopes for the two of you.”

  “Y’all, it was just a ride. I’m not looking to marry again. Really, I’m not. And he knows that.”

  Clara Lyn crossed her arms and her bracelets jangled as she harrumphed. “When you fall off a horse you don’t just lie in the dirt. You get up and get back on.”

  “That’s right,” Reba grunted. “One bad ride does not mean the rodeo is over.”

  Abby grinned. “That is so eloquently put. And the truth.”

  “But I’m fine. Reba, you’re single. You never remarried after your divorce, but you seem to be happy and content like Aunt Roxie always was.”

  “Who says I’m content?” she drawled, giving Cassidy a blunt assessment. “Hon, I’m always on the lookout for that one special man. I believe in true love and I am holding out for it. He just hasn’t ridden in on his horse, and at this point I wouldn’t mind if he was riding a mule. I’m just looking for the man who will sweep me off my feet and share the rest of my life with me. A good man, and by ‘sweep me off my feet’ I’m talking about with sincerity and heart.”

  “He’s going to have to be strong,” Clara Lyn said, arching her eyebrows. “Or use that mule to help him if he’s going to do any sweeping you off your feet.”

  Reba slapped her friend on the arm. “Look who’s talking. You know you gained five pounds last week when Bertha came in with that cream cheese pound cake.”

  Clara Lyn dropped her jaw. “It is so unfair. Our clients all know how to bake and they bake when they get depressed. Then they all want to come into the salon and tell us their woes, and out of acts of kindness and because they are on diets, they deposit those baked goods in our shop. All that gratefulness is a hard thing to resist. I tell them they are cruel and have threatened not to let them cry on my shoulder if they keep it up.”

  “But no,” Reba said sarcastically. “They just keep on bringing them in. Speaking of which, I thought you were done giving advice.” She was gawking at Clara Lyn.

  Pebble had come over to say hello, and she now looked from one to the other, obviously wondering like Cassidy and Abby what the ladies were talking about. They were quite entertaining.

  “Well, I tried. But you knew it was going to be impossible for me to keep my mouth shut. And speaking of advice, did y’all read Maggie’s column? It came this morning.”

  Pebble held up a hesitant hand. “I read it.”

  Clara Lyn blinked at her friend. “And what did you make of that letter from Torn in Texas Number 2? There was a Number 1 too that Reba and I found interesting.”

  “I read that one,” Abby gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth as she looked at Pebble. Her gaze slid to Cassidy and then she cringed a little.

  “Well.” Pebble bristled. “I think whoever Torn in Texas is, he’s making some decisions that are a little premature. I mean, about whoever this person of interest is he’s decided to let go because he loves her so much, as he said. Well, I think he should reread Maggie’s reply in the first letter and see that she told him he made mistakes and that he should persevere and give the person of interest time to make up her own mind.”

  Everyone looked stunned and was silent. Pebble’s gentle face was rather flushed and Cassidy was shocked to see anger in her normally gentle eyes.

  “Well, I . . .” Clara Lyn actually seemed at a loss for words. And so did Reba, who just blinked.

  “You girls asked. And now you know. Yes, I believe Rand may have written to Maggie’s advice column. When in fact the man should have been asking me what I think. But no. He just marched his sweet self over to my place and cut ties with me. Told me I didn’t deserve to have his mess casting a shadow over me for the rest of my life. And then he left. You know about all that. But I’ve been thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the madder I get.”

  “Well, go talk to him.” Cassidy couldn’t help it. “Get this all out in the open.”

  “Yes,” Clara Lyn agreed enthusiastically. “We sure will. We’ll fix this.”

  “No, I don’t want y’all talking to him. I can handle this on my own. He’s done this. He’s still learning. And while I appreciate the fact that he thinks he’s making the right move asking our Maggie for her advice—and I think she gave him good advice—I think he should have started with me. I’m an adult and so is he. Going to rehab was a step in the right direction for him and then for our relationship. And now he’s decided to do this.”

  Cassidy’s head was spinning. Love was so confusing. She studied Pebble and could see that despite her words there was worry in her eyes. But what could Cassidy do about it? Pebble and Rand were two adults who had been dancing around this crazy relationship of theirs for years.

  Jarrod was pleased that they managed to fry fifty turkeys without burning any buildings down or exploding any turkeys. He’d made a wide perimeter around the fryers to keep folks back since he wasn’t certain what might happen.

  The day had flown by and the turnout had been fantastic. Maggie’s advice column had put the town on the map, and they were starting to prosper with a little more of the traffic that normally headed over to the more touristy Fredericksburg. Not that he was hoping the town got too much busier. And not that he was hoping it caught on as a place for women to come looking for love. Bo had been terrified that was going to happen. But thankfully Maggie’s advice column and the TV interview a year ago had just grabbed people’s attention. Doonie and the town council had done a good job hol
ding different festivals to give folks a reason to visit and spend a few dollars for the economy.

  He was fine with that.

  But today his mind hadn’t been in the game. He had rustlers hanging out in the background of his thoughts and Cassidy holed up in the forefront. And from where he was frying turkeys he had a fairly clear view of her. She stayed busy with her peaches and it looked like she was about out.

  “Hey, Doobie, you ready to take over here? I’ve got this last one to finish frying.”

  “Sure I can. Though make sure the fire trucks are on call just in case.” He gave a lopsided grin.

  Jarrod chuckled. “Let’s try to hold down on the fire. Okay?”

  “I’m just teasing. I’m not planning on disaster striking anytime soon.”

  Rolling his sleeves down, Jarrod buttoned the cuffs and strode through the crowd. Cassidy was packing up.

  “Did you have a good day?”

  She looked less than happy to see him. “I sold every peach I brought. And people signed up for my newsletter and want me to contact them when everything else is ready. So it was a wonderful day.”

  “Great. Let me buy you a lemonade to celebrate.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She looked around and Abby gave her a thumbs-up before joining the conversation.

  “I hear they’re amazing. Bo is bringing me one in a few minutes. He just texted me that the frying is about done and he’ll be down here to take up some slack for me and Maggie.”

  “Go on, Cassidy,” Clara Lyn hollered from three tables down.

  Cassidy stared down that way and realized everyone she knew was watching them.

  She wanted to go home . . . but he looked really good. You are so weak. Weak, weak, weak.

  Or a glutton for punishment.

  Going home was the smart choice.

  He leaned in, “You chicken?”

  “Chicken?”

  “Cass, I am not going to bite.”

  “I-I didn’t think you were.”

  “Then . . .” He pinned her with challenge in his eyes.

  “What did he say?” Cassidy could hear Clara Lyn asking.

  She heard Reba chuckle. “He called her a chicken.”

  “Y’all, do not get the wrong idea about this,” Cassidy declared to set everyone straight. They were all in her business anyway.

  Abby was laughing now, doggone her. “Just go, Cassidy. Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Cassidy wanted to grumble. Jarrod jerked his jaw in the direction of the lemonade truck, and she decided she’d better go before he started clucking at her in double dare. Chicken, my foot.

  He cupped her elbow as they walked, even knowing everyone was watching. Her heart faltered with his touch and she tried to stay miffed at him. It was the safest route for her.

  “A three-legged race is underway over there. I’m thinking you and me should take on my brothers and their wives in a little while.”

  “No way. I’m not getting tied to you.” She was perfectly serious and the cowboy laughed.

  “I’m serious, Jarrod.”

  “I know you are.” His eyes were twinkling.

  Ooh, drat him. “You know what your problem is? You’re living in the past. I am not interested, Jarrod Monahan.” She glared up at him. “You don’t listen.”

  He grinned down at her. “On the contrary. Yesterday you said the past was the past and I totally agreed. I’m just reminding you of what you said so you don’t waste years hiding out there at Roxie’s place, letting your life fly by because you’re afraid to step out and take a chance on real love.”

  She frowned, then glanced around the crowd to see people watching them. She leaned in close and nearly hissed, “I would take a chance if I wanted to. I don’t want to. I just want a nice, quiet life.”

  He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers. “You will be bored out of your mind, Cassidy Starr.”

  “Bored—” Her heart was thumping. The man was maddening. “I-I will not. I will have my strawberry farming and my peach orchard and the B and B. That will keep me busy. Bored, ha!”

  He grinned again. “But that’s not what you’ve been satisfied doing. You had more fun hunting rustlers than you did picking peaches. And riding horses. Matter of fact, I’m planning to go on a roundup tomorrow, and I have a feeling you’d love to go.”

  She stiffened and crossed her arms. “I went with you looking for rustlers because you were stubborn and going alone and not telling anyone. I-I was worried about you.”

  “So you were worried about me?” he pressed. “I like that.”

  “Well, you are my neighbor. And you were nice to look out for Aunt Roxie, so it was the least I could do.”

  He laughed. “I try to be neighborly and I enjoyed looking out for Roxie. Now, what about that roundup? I’m counting cattle and checking tags and looking for signs of rustlers. It should be an eventful day. What do you say?”

  “I was going to tiller up ground tomorrow.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, sounds like a lot of fun. What do you say? Come ride with me, Cass,” he said, ending softly and sending a tremble through her. “And in trade, but only if you want me to, I’ll help you tiller up the strawberry patch. Key word here being help.”

  “You are not playing fair. You know I like to go on roundups.”

  “I do remember that.”

  She really did want to go. She bit her lip, contemplating her choices. “Oh, all right. I’ll go.” She poked him in the chest. “But no hanky-panky. You keep your lips to yourself. And we’ll see about the helping with the garden. I might take you up on that offer too.”

  Jarrod laughed. “If you say so, beautiful. But you and I both know it’s more fun when we share.”

  She wacked his arm. “People are watching. They already have the wrong idea.”

  “Says who?”

  She stared at him. “What has gotten into you, Jarrod Monahan?”

  He stepped close again so she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. He felt reckless at the moment. He was doing everything he could to keep his hands off her, but it was getting harder and harder to do that. “I’m going after what I want, Cass.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed hard and her forehead dampened. “Well, it’s a little too late for that.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much. Did you happen to read Maggie’s column the last couple of weeks?”

  She gasped. “You read advice columns?”

  He chuckled. “I read my sister-in-law’s column. I thought she gave the guy pretty interesting answers. Did you read them?” he asked again.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I agree with her advice. Now, let’s get that lemonade.”

  He took her arm and drew her to the line where many people he’d never seen before were waiting.

  He’d decided to push Cassidy. He’d flip-flopped on how to handle the situation and had finally realized he needed to shake things up. She needed some adventure, and opening a bed-and-breakfast and serving strawberries to someone else’s family was not what he hoped she chose as adventurous enough. She deserved to have it all.

  21

  “So now that you’ve got me here and you brought it up, have you had any luck with the rustlers?” Cassidy had tried not to ask the whole time they waited on their drinks, but now that they’d walked away from the crowd toward the games, she had to ask. Because aggravating as it was, he was right—she really wanted to catch the blasted rustlers.

  For one thing, she loved Pops and she wanted to do her part to make sure his ranch was safe. And, well, she had been getting a little bored picking peaches and working in the house. She didn’t admit it to Jarrod, though.

  And despite getting a little scraped up the other night, she’d had a blast looking for the rustlers. She’d go to her grave before she’d tell him that either.

  And then of course he started playing dirty. Though she never would have asked to tag along, he’d remembered
how much she’d loved to help work cattle and then invited her on the ride. And that was too good to pass up.

  “I haven’t found out anything more.”

  “I’ve been keeping my eyes open. And just a heads-up, Rand was asking questions this morning.”

  “He was? That man has some keen sense of trouble. He’s always watching, even when you don’t realize it. He’s a newsman, so I’m certain he’s already heard about the various robberies across this part of the state and he’s been on the lookout. What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing. I distracted him with other talk. I didn’t want to lie, so I took the conversation to something else as soon as I could.”

  Jarrod gave her that smile that tilted her world.

  She laughed. “What?”

  “You’re a regular Nancy Drew, Cassidy Starr.”

  “Ha-ha. And by the way, I am not doing that.”

  She pointed to a group of kids running the three-legged race obstacle course.

  Okay, she thought a few minutes later as she looked at the group gathered at the starting line of the three-legged race. Maybe she was going to do it.

  “This is going to be so fun,” Maggie said, assuring her.

  She and Tru were tied together on one side of Cassidy and Jarrod, and Abby and Bo were tied together on the other side. Cassidy had been no competition against all of them as they insisted she join in. And Jarrod was having the time of his life at her expense. Of course, the feel of his arm warm and securely draped down her back and his hand resting on her waist had her thinking about hugs and being held in his arms and . . .

  It was very distracting.

  “I’m enjoying myself already,” Jarrod drawled next to her ear. She stomped his instep. “Hey!”

  “Hay is for cows, I think.”

  “And hayrides. Which they are having later on tonight.”

  Wary eyes met his. “No. Don’t even think it.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ll be shooting off the fireworks anyway.”

  Doobie held up his official starting gun, and the small crowd—including Clara Lyn, Reba, Pebble, and Rand—was hooting and hollering at them.