“I’m pleading the Fifth Amendment.” Cassidy laughed. “See y’all later this week to help paint the baby’s room.”
“Painting’s going to be fun,” Maggie called.
Cassidy waved over her shoulder and made a beeline to the parking lot. They were absolutely right. It was better to get out now than see Jarrod again.
Tomorrow’s roundup would come soon enough. By then, hopefully her head would be screwed back on correctly and she wouldn’t be thinking about how wonderful tonight had been . . . especially the moments spent in Jarrod’s arms.
22
Cassidy had successfully made it through her first Fourth since she’d been back in town. She had been smiling as she pulled into her driveway the night before. She was also exhausted, and after giving Duce a little loving on the porch where he’d begun choosing to sleep, she didn’t waste much time before tramping up the stairs to her room and crawling into bed. She set her alarm just in case she decided to go on the roundup.
She woke up the next morning after a long fight with sleeplessness and squinted at the clock through blurry eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should go on the roundup, but she really wanted to so she rolled over and dragged herself out of bed.
The rooster was crowing when she drove up to Jarrod’s barn. Several men and Jarrod were gathered, waiting to load their horses into a trailer.
“Mornin’,” Jarrod said, greeting her. “We’re riding into the interior to work. I’ve already got your horse loaded.”
The man had known she’d be here.
Within moments everyone had gotten into two double cab trucks, and the two trailers with the horses led the way past the barn and into the pastures. She found herself squished between Jarrod, who was driving, and a cowboy named Gil.
“So you live next door?” Gil asked.
“Yes, I do. And I enjoy being way out here in the country.”
“I like a woman who knows her way around a horse. And appreciates the land.”
She looked at the attractive guy. He had the look of a man who was at ease with anyone he was around. He was pure cowboy. “I do.”
Cassidy could feel Jarrod’s shoulder rubbing against hers. She tried to keep her thoughts off that and on the road in front of them. She was looking forward to helping round up cattle. She had almost forgotten how much she loved riding. She had taken to it so quickly as a kid. Of course, she’d had the incentive of being with Jarrod on roundups if she did well.
And nothing about that had changed.
They drove through the pastures, Jarrod with one hand draped over the steering wheel and one elbow hanging out the window. There was just something peaceful about riding through this land, and she wondered how she could have stayed away so long. Peace filled her.
“It’s going to be a great day,” she said, and Jarrod slid his amazing eyes her way. Then he flashed that smile, and her heart clutched.
When they unloaded the horses from the trailer, Jarrod watched Cassidy practically swing into the saddle. She was so excited to be on this ride. He wasn’t playing fair by inviting her along, but then at this point he didn’t really care.
This wasn’t just about him getting Cassidy to fall in love with him. Oh, that was the master plan, but this was also about getting Cassidy to live again. To be that young woman he’d glimpsed that last summer after she’d shaken off some of the residue of her parents’ messed-up lives. If Cassidy wanted to raise strawberries for the rest of her life, he was fine with that. But he was bound and determined that she wasn’t going to do it out of fear. Or because she was hiding from the world. Or from him. When she hid from love, he felt like she buried part of herself. He’d witnessed it. He might be wrong, but he’d take that chance if it meant getting to the core of what Cassidy needed.
After the celebration, he’d sat on the porch late into the night, sure he was on the right track. If he wasn’t, then she wouldn’t have agreed to come today.
“Okay, men, let’s round ’em up and bring ’em home,” he called as he loped over to Cassidy. “You ready to ride?”
Charity danced to the side and pranced with the desire to go. “Let’s ride. I’m ready, and so is Charity, it appears.” She laughed.
Jarrod laughed too, nudged Raider, his horse, and led the way in a lope. She followed, pulling up beside him and tossing him a smile that set his heart to pounding.
“I’m glad you came along.”
“Don’t pull my leg. You knew I couldn’t pass it up.”
He smiled. “I hoped you couldn’t, anyway.”
Clara Lyn stared at Pebble, who had busted through the door of the salon and looked as if she’d not slept at all. The normally calm, well-put-together motel owner looked frazzled.
“I can’t help myself. I need your advice.”
“No.” Clara Lyn held up her hands. “I am not giving advice these days. Especially if it has to do with you and Rand.”
Reba’s mouth dropped open. “Ha! You are too giving advice. You just told Lorna Crenshaw to tell that lazy husband of hers to get off his—”
“You know that is an entirely different situation.”
“Girls,” Pebble broke in, making Clara Lyn feel bad.
“Sorry,” she said, giving Pebble her full attention. “What is on your mind? You look terrible, and I don’t think I have ever said that to you. For goodness’ sake, come over here and sit down.”
Pebble sank down and looked as if she was going to jump out of her skin at any moment. “I can’t sleep. I know Rand has messed up. He’s an alcoholic. But he’s gone through a good program, and though I know there is always the chance that he could fall off the wagon, that he could turn back to drinking, I just feel like he isn’t going to. And he told me he wasn’t going to ask me to have to worry about whether he’s going to lose control again.”
“That’s the sad part about addiction,” Reba said, looking at Clara Lyn with wide eyes. She didn’t know what to think of their friend’s behavior either. “When you love someone who has an addiction, you never truly know if they’ve succeeded in recovering.”
“And I’ve been doing my research, because I nearly gave you some bad advice a few months ago.” Clara Lyn hesitated. “To be quite frank, Pebble, the statistics are not that positive.” Clara Lyn hated to point this out, but she was worried for her friend. “There is no way to ever truly know. It can be terribly hard on the loved ones.”
“I agree, Pebble,” Reba said, nodding. “I couldn’t tell you what to do in this situation. I want Rand to be healed and over this mess and to never have to worry about desiring that bottle again. But only he can do that.”
Pebble looked conflicted. “I know,” she said. “And I’m certain Rand feels exactly the same way. And through his AA meetings and the recovery group at the church he’s been attending regularly, I believe Rand has recognized what a battle he faces. That is why he pulled away. He is trying to protect me. Trying to take this worry off my shoulders.”
Clara Lyn looked at Reba to see if she knew what to say. This was the toughest advice she had ever been asked to be a part of.
“But I’m an adult,” Pebble said, sounding strong and irritated at the same time. “And I can make the decision on my own.”
Clara Lyn scowled at her. “If that’s so, then why are you here asking me and Reba? Giving us nervous breakdowns worrying about pointing you in the wrong direction?”
“Because it’s a major decision and you girls are my sounding board. I know what I’m feeling, but feelings can lead you astray sometimes when good sense needs to be the guide.”
“That is the truth.” Clara Lyn bit her lip and tried to think objectively about this situation.
“So what do you feel?” Reba asked. That woman’s romantic heart was going to get her into trouble one day. Or someone else. Clara Lyn was all for matchmaking and happily-ever-afters, and she had her eye on Jarrod and Cassidy right now. But this was Pebble.
“I love him. I always have. And I’ve always
clung to my conservative nature and kept my distance.”
Alarms were clanging in Clara Lyn’s head now. “Pebble, you are a mature, adult woman who has had a good life. Your conservative nature has steered you the right way all these years, so don’t go being hard on it right now.”
Pebble stood up. “But that’s just it. I’m ready to take some risk. Like selling the motel. I want to do some different things . . . and to believe in Rand. You’ve seen him. He is looking so healthy and he is stronger now. His attitude is different. He-he knows he’s hurt me and he’s fixing that. I believe in him.”
Clara Lyn sighed. “I can’t lie. Before I realized the kind of problem he had, I was always rooting for y’all to marry. We all were. And you know Roxie believed in y’all.”
Reba nodded. “It’s true. We all felt that way. But the risk of selling the motel and the risk of marrying Rand are not the same thing.”
“You’re right. But I don’t believe his drinking got this bad until just last year. And then he got depressed that night at the wedding when he got drunk and told me he loved me on the microphone in front of everyone and sang that awful song.”
It had been awful. He was not Whitney Houston or Dolly Parton, but he sang “I Will Always Love You” at the top of his lungs, slurring and weaving. “That was embarrassing for you. And for him, I imagine.”
“It was. And then he just got worse and worse.” Pebble pressed her slender shoulders back. “But I believe he’s overcome this. And I feel strongly that I need to tell him so.”
It was a hot day in Texas. Despite the breeze, Cassidy’s sweat trickled from her thick, curling hair and ran down between her shoulder blades. Her bra was soaked and so was her shirt, but she was feeling great. Even dusty and eating grit. She loved a roundup. Loved the feel of galloping across a pasture after a runaway.
“There, I’ll get that one,” she called when a cow bolted. Nudging Charity into a gallop, she went into pursuit. Cassidy hadn’t ridden a cutting horse in a long time, but she was good in the saddle, always with a good seat and had great balance. Pops had been her teacher and he was the best. She was rusty, but doing all right today.
They’d had a busy morning and she’d loved every moment of it. Jarrod had ridden beside her most of the way. She was having a hard time not thinking about the kiss or the dancing last night—and the feel of his arms around her. He wore his chaps today, and because he hadn’t shaved this morning he had a five o’clock shadow. He looked heart-flutteringly appealing.
She cut the cow off and turned her back, wheeling Charity around to change the direction of the heifer. It felt great, watching the horse respond to her direction and then feeling the freedom that came from riding strong with the beautiful animal. She loved ranch life.
“That was impressive,” Jarrod said, smiling as she pulled Charity to a halt beside him.
“Thanks.” She laughed, feeling breathless and happy. “I had forgotten just how fun this can be.”
Jarrod chuckled, but then turned serious.
“I like it when you’re smiling like this, Cass. No tears, no anger, just free enjoyment. That’s what you need to be looking forward to from here on out. Not the junk of the other day.”
“This is what I’m shooting for by taking my future into my control.”
His gaze dropped to her lips and she felt goose bumps everywhere.
“And that means no room for a man?”
“A woman does not need a man in her life to feel fulfilled,” she snapped, irritation sparking through her that he’d just ruined the moment.
His jaw tightened as he studied the cattle being herded through a gate into another pasture. “You’re right,” he said after a second, just as a cow broke and charged from the herd. Jarrod had his horse charging after it before anyone else even had time to react.
Cassidy watched him go, feeling every muscle in her body tense.
She did not need him to be a fulfilled, joyful woman.
Jarrod tried his hardest to stay clear of Cassidy for the rest of the roundup. He let her have her space, which she seemed to want. And he had other things to worry about. When they got the cattle herded into the other pasture and the corral that was there for loading, he and his men started a systematic ear tag check, marking off the numbers against his official numbers. Five head were missing from this group.
He had decisions to make on his strategy to stop this theft and he did not need to be thinking about Cassidy.
When they finally got back to the barn and his men had left, he found Cassidy in the stall, brushing down her horse. The sun filtered in on her through the open doors and his gut tightened. In his heart he knew she belonged here. Last night when they were dancing it had taken all his self-control not to pull her close and kiss her until she saw stars. He loved her. Always had. And nothing was ever going to change that.
He’d had to talk himself out of not going straight to her house after they’d cleaned up the fireworks. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he talked himself off that cliff. He had to be patient.
For his life to feel complete he needed her. But did she need him?
If not, he might have to live with that.
“She’s looking good,” he said, leaning against the stall.
“I’m almost done,” Cassidy said briskly. Her strokes were jerky as she brushed Charity’s coat, and he noticed her hand shook as she finished.
Knowing he was wrong to do it, he moved to lift a strand of hair from her cheek. “It was a good day, Cass. But any day with you makes my day good.” Sometimes with Cassidy he didn’t even recognize himself.
She stilled. “You just don’t give up, do you?”
He cupped her face in his hands and gently brushed his lips against hers. The being patient thought was out the window. “Not when I want something so much. I love you, Cassidy. You’re driving me crazy and I just have to spell it out. You are all I want.”
Her breath caught.
“Jarrod. Hold on, just . . . just back up.” She moved away from him and stalked from the stall and down the center of the barn between the nickering horses. He followed, jogging to catch her.
“Come on, Cass, admit it. I believe you love me. You’re going to throw that away?” Jarrod stopped when he reached the parking area and put his hands on his hips. This wasn’t like him. He’d sworn he wasn’t going to pressure her, but here he was doing it.
She spun at her truck, her fierce gaze drilling into him from across the fifteen-foot gulf separating them. It felt like the Gulf of Mexico.
“You stay away from me, Jarrod Monahan. I came back to Strawberry Hill with a plan. I came here knowing what I wanted the rest of my life to look like, and then you started . . . started messing with my mind. I can be fulfilled. I will be. If you would just leave me alone.”
“You’re messing with my heart, Cass. And you know I’m messing with yours too.”
He moved toward her, slow and steady, recognizing the need for flight in her eyes. He had pushed her too far, but maybe she needed some shaking up.
“You’ve got me to where I’m not tending to my business. I’ve got cattle disappearing like a bag of M&Ms and right now I don’t give a big hoot. All I care about is holding you in my arms, Cassidy. And telling you that I love you. And that I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that you were done wrong and that you deserve better. And I’m the man for the job. Nothing else matters to me like you and that mission.”
He stopped in front of her. She was all fire and warrior woman as he looked at her, and it made him smile. Thank you, Lord, for putting her in my life. The prayer of thanks filled him. Now he just had to pray the Lord would show him how to win her over.
“Jarrod, don’t do this to me,” she said softly, her voice wavering. “My heart can’t take being toyed with. I just can’t do it.”
“I’m not toying with you, Cass. I’m dead serious.”
Her gaze searched his and lingered on his mouth, then jerked back to his eyes
and hardened.
“I’m serious, too, so stop. Just stop, Jarrod.” Eyes glittering with anger, Cassidy scrambled into her truck, cranked the engine, and drove away.
“Cass, wait!” he called, but she didn’t look back at him. She just kept driving.
And Jarrod suddenly felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
23
A week had passed since she’d gone on the roundup with Jarrod. Cassidy had managed to get the old tiller chugging along and had really dug into churning up the ground for her garden and strawberry patch. She ordered supplies for her strawberry business and had begun to work on the rustic cabinet, sanding, repairing, and then staining it. It was looking great.
She was busy and overwhelmed, hot and sweaty, but that was what she needed. The hard work meant that she fell into bed worn out by the end of the day. And the sweat . . . well, she hoped it was sweating her desire for Jarrod out of her system.
It was not working.
She thought about him all the time.
That stunt he’d pulled at the barn had really made her mad, though. He knew how she felt and he still used her love of horses as a manipulation to sway her from her plan. Of course she fell for it, because she did love to ride.
If there was one thing she’d learned to recognize it was manipulation, and she despised it. But she’d missed it from Jarrod at first, and it bothered her that she had.
She drove into town and parked her truck in front of the feed store. When she hopped out, Duce jumped from his seat and walked beside her. The dog had started racing to the truck and jumping in whenever he realized she was going somewhere. It was easy to see from the way he knew his way around that he’d once been a regular rider.
Who had owned Duce? The question nagged at Cassidy. And she pushed the fear away that one day whoever it was would show up and claim her buddy. She had to get past worrying about that.
“Stay,” she said as she entered the building, and Duce sat obediently on the front porch of the place, grinning up at her happily. Cassidy paused and rubbed between his ears like he loved her to do, and then she went inside through the large garage door opening that enabled trucks to back up to the dock and have their beds loaded full of feed.
Kissed by a Cowboy Page 21