Kissed by a Cowboy

by Debra Clopton

  He chuckled again. “That would have been something to put on my tombstone.”

  Her mouth fell open. “That is not something to joke about.”

  “Hey, lighten up, Cassidy. I’ve worked on a ranch all my life. Don’t you think I have been involved in a few cattle and horse wrecks in my day? This is a liability of the work I do and you know it. Still, believe me, it’s not listed on the most dangerous job list.”

  She grabbed the alcohol, then the gauze from the open first-aid kit and doused it with the clear liquid. “I need to get to that to wrap it,” she said, and then realized as he began unbuttoning his shirt that he would need to either take it off or rip off the sleeve. Before she could say more, the shirt was dropped over his knee and he sat in front of her shirtless.

  Holy smokin’ pine cones! Cowboyin’ kept a body in shape.

  Jarrod Monahan was lean, hard, and tanned. Her breath caught again, and she had to focus on carefully blotting the gash.

  Not that he probably cared whether he was a perfect male specimen, At least she hoped not. Jack, on the other hand, loved being gorgeous.

  Why did she keep comparing the two?

  She kept her gaze on his gash and got it cleaned. But she felt him studying her while she worked.

  “Did you need something?” he asked after a moment. Her gaze flew to his as a boulder lodged in her windpipe and she coughed.

  “Excuse me?” she wheezed, her hands shaking so badly she dropped the gauze.

  He acted as though her reaction were normal. “You came here for something. What were you needing?”

  “Oh, I . . .” She reached for another piece of gauze and felt like bopping herself on the forehead. “I came to tell you that . . . um, to tell you not to send me flowers.”

  “Good. You got them. I’m glad.”

  “Yes, but I don’t want them.”

  “Were they pretty?”

  “Well, yes. Beautiful. But I—”

  “Good. I’m apologizing for all that teasing that happened at your expense in the feed store yesterday.”

  That took her by surprise. “Oh.”

  “And trying to woo you at the same time.”

  “No, Jarrod, I do not want to be wooed. I do not want to give the town something more to talk about. We already did that.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t mind them talking. And I can’t promise you I’m not going to be giving them more to talk about.”

  “What? Why?”

  He chuckled, and it sent those blasted tingles rioting through her. She finished securing the gauze over his wound but couldn’t move away from him.

  “Because I’m about to start some good, old-fashioned courting of the lady I plan to marry.”

  Deep, amazing eyes as fathomless as the ocean held hers. Cassidy melted on the inside. “No. No, no, no. N. O.”

  He grimaced. “Can’t change what I feel, Cass.”

  “But I don’t feel it. Or want it.”

  He stood, wobbled slightly, and reached for her. He pulled her against him. “I think you do. I ran like a terrified cowboy still wet behind the ears once. Do you know I got snowed in, in Montana? That I came back to Texas as soon as I could get off that line shack in the middle of that monster ranch? Back to you? But when I got here your aunt Roxie told me you’d married. And she told me I was an idiot. And as always she was right.”

  He’d come back for her.

  The idea shocked her. He’d changed his mind and come back for her.

  “Cassidy, I love you. I can’t give up without proving to you that I’m not that stupid young kid who walked away anymore. I’m the man who will love you, and stand by you, and care for you.” He kissed her.

  When his lips touched hers, a jolt of delirious shock coursed through Cassidy and she responded instantly. Her arms entwined his neck of their own accord. Joy filled her as he responded by pulling her tightly to him and claiming her lips more firmly. His kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back for years. Emotions collided inside Cassidy as she reveled in his touch and the beat of his heart, the feel of this man in her arms. She knew now she’d always loved him.

  The lure of him held her. She kissed him in return with the same desperation, born from all those lost dreams.

  Sanity intruded and brutal reality slammed into her. She pulled back.

  “No,” she said weakly. What was she doing? “I-I can’t.” She tore herself out of his arms and backed away. Needing the space between them. Needing the gulf to keep her from throwing herself back into his arms.

  “Too much has happened,” she said firmly. “You might not be that scared cowboy anymore, but I’m not that naïve girl anymore either.” She turned and fled, her heart thundering louder with every step she took away from him.

  Jarrod didn’t watch her walk away this time. It was the same thing over and over again. He might as well get it into his thick skull and let her have what she wanted, which was clearly not him. But she’d kissed him, responded . . .

  He rammed a hand into his hair, frustration tearing him up. His shoulder throbbed, but he barely noticed over the chasm that had just reopened in his heart. As Cassidy’s truck rumbled down his drive, he stalked toward the house for another shirt, forcing his mind to go back to work. To do what he did best and take care of this ranch. He needed to turn the colt back out into the pasture to cool off, then check in with Gil on how the fence building on the southwest corner of the ranch was progressing. He hadn’t been going out with them to work because he had colts to gentle up before delivering them in a couple of weeks.

  He had stakeout tonight too. Maybe this time he’d get lucky. The one good thing about the stakeout was that it gave him time to cool down and think up his next move with Cassidy. He needed to think clearly, but no matter where he tried to take his mind, it kept going right back to that kiss. And there was no thinking clearly then.

  “We’ve got another one,” Clara Lyn said, busting through the salon door two weeks after the Fourth of July. This year it seemed all kinds of trauma had erupted after the fireworks had long faded from the sky. Why, Pebble was still in a dither about what to do with her love life, and then there was Cassidy and Jarrod. Oh, how she’d had high hopes that those two would fall madly in love.

  And they very well could be, but at the moment they were practically walking on opposite sides of the street if they got anywhere near each other. Ever since Betty Brisco had delivered those flowers from Jarrod to Cassidy there seemed to be a line drawn firmly in the sand between them.

  Roxie would be rolling over in her grave if she could see the mess these two romances were in. But Torn in Texas was still alive and kicking and writing in to Maggie’s column. Clara Lyn was proud of Rand for not giving up. The man was out to prove something, and she for one was starting to root for him again. Despite how aggravated she’d been.

  Reba was tying on her apron, getting prepared for her first customer in thirty minutes. She was beaming like a floodlight.

  “You read the morning paper, I see.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “He’s not giving up, is he?”

  “Doesn’t sound like it.” Clara Lyn glanced at the paper she had folded open to the headline “Gotta Have Hope.” She was just about to read it out loud when Bertha threw the door open and came hustling inside. The stout nurse was early for her weekly roll-up, but she was carrying a paper in her hand too. She held it up and waved it in the air.

  “You gals read the paper this morning? We have ourselves a regular reality TV show on paper goin’ on right here in Wishing Springs.”

  “We wondered how many others realized Torn in Texas was one of our own,” Clara Lyn said.

  “Oh yeah, I realized it last week. I had my niggling suspicions before that, but after careful observation I realized this here was happening in real time in front of us.”

  Clara nodded and went back to the article. “Dear Maggie, I’ve messed up. I’ve rushed the love of my life because I’m so intent on making th
ings right from the past and moving on with our lives. But now, after attempting to make my intentions known, I’ve upset her and may have frightened her off completely. I’m thinking it might be best for me to give up for her sake, but my heart is fighting me every step of the way. Your advice would be greatly appreciated once more. Do you have any tips that would help me either fix this or walk away like a man who wants only the best for the amazing woman who has endured so much? Always grateful, Torn in Texas.”

  Clara Lyn slapped the newspaper down beside the cash register. “I have to tell you, that man is really changing my attitude.”

  “Mine too,” Reba said. “I think he’s changed.”

  “Changed,” Bertha huffed. “What about that man needs to change? He is about the most perfect man I’ve ever encountered.”

  Clara Lyn gaped at Bertha. “You think Rand is perfect?”

  “I am shocked,” Reba said, gasping. “I wasn’t even aware you and Rand got along all that much.”

  Bertha was glaring at them. She stuffed her hands on her hips. “Do you two have a fever?”

  “Well, no. Do you?” Clara Lyn shot back.

  “No. Torn in Texas isn’t Rand Ratliff. It’s that hunk of burnin’ love Jarrod Monahan. And you both know the man is finer than refined sugar. I could sop that man up like molasses with a butter biscuit.”

  “Jarrod,” Clara Lyn said in unison with Reba. Shock slapped her like a mad woman.

  “Well, yes. It’s obvious. That man has had a thing for that girl since he kissed the daylights out of her on the Fourth of July back when she just graduated from high school. He ran off to Montana and got himself snowed in while Cassidy ran off and married some bum she barely knew. Roxie didn’t explain all this to y’all?”

  “Nooo.” Clara Lyn could not believe it. Roxie had never mentioned anything about a kiss or Jarrod having been crazy about Cassidy all these years. She was a little insulted, to be honest.

  “How do you know all this?” Reba asked. “And I am not convinced you are right.”

  “I saw the kiss, that’s why. I was walkin’ toward my car all those years ago and happened to glance toward the lake pier and saw them. Young love. Then the young heartbreaker ran off the next day to Montana and broke that girl’s heart.”

  Reba’s mouth fell open. “And we didn’t know?”

  Bertha looked all smug. “I didn’t see any reason to tell that young girl’s heartache to the world.”

  “Well, I am insulted.” Clara Lyn could not believe the nurse’s comments. “I-I do not gossip. I tell the facts that we know.”

  “Exactly,” Bertha grunted. “So now you see why I didn’t tell you the facts as I knew them. You might have told them.”

  “Hold it, you two. This is ridiculous. It’s not Jarrod, anyway. Why would he be writing to Maggie when she lives right there on the Four of Hearts Ranch? All he’d have to do is ask her.”

  “Maybe he’s too embarrassed to ask,” Bertha said, sitting down in the chair connected to the shampoo bowl. “A man’s got his pride when he’s gone and messed up.”

  Clara Lyn stared at Reba, who looked about as confused as she was. Could they all have assumed something that wasn’t really true? Could Torn in Texas be Jarrod instead of Rand?

  “Clara Lyn,” Reba said, tapping her toe as the wheels turned behind her eyes. “Maybe you should ask him.”

  Clara Lyn looked from Bertha to Reba. Maybe she should.

  25

  Cassidy could not get herself motivated. Five days had passed since she’d confronted Jarrod and she had no willpower. She was half-heartedly ripping wallpaper off the kitchen wall when her phone rang. She grabbed it up, needing interaction of some kind, even if it was a political fundraiser or even a telemarketer. Luckily it was Abby.

  “Oh, Abby, so good to hear from you. I need some good ole female interaction.”

  Abby chuckled. “Well, then you’ll be glad of this call. Sandy is in labor so we are all on our way to the hospital in Kerrville. I know it’s late, but come join us.”

  “I am so excited. Let me change real quick. I’m a mess. I have been ripping out wallpaper. Be there in a jiffy.”

  This was what she needed to take her mind off the dilemma of Jarrod. She needed to be around others. Even if he’d be there soon to see his new nephew, there would be enough distraction to help her not obsess. She needed something positive, something that was not focused on her. A new baby was fabulous. She loved babies.

  Hurrying to change, she finger combed her hair into a headband, then pulled on a mint green T-shirt, black jeans, and on a whim a pair of three-inch wedge, strappy sandals. It had been awhile since she’d worn even a small heel and . . . well, why not?

  She gave Duce a neck scrub on the way down the steps. “Take care of the place,” she said, then tossed her purse into the seat of her truck and slid behind the wheel. Driving down her driveway, she glanced toward Jarrod’s house. No lights shone in the dusk so he’d probably been gone for a while. Kerrville was the opposite direction from Wishing Springs, so she turned left. She would have to travel this quiet road for a while until it connected with another county road that would take her to the highway. She’d gone about three or four miles when she spotted a faint light in the pasture. She slowed, watching the light. Her heart was racing as she pulled to a stop next to a stand of trees and cut her lights. Was she seeing the rustlers?

  Unable to contain her excitement, she wished now she’d worn her boots. What had she been thinking putting on these dadburn heels, anyway? She grabbed her phone and turned it on, then realized she’d done it again. She’d let her battery run low rather than plug it in while she’d been working in the house. She was going to have to break this bad habit.

  Excitement still bubbled in her as she dialed Jarrod’s number. “Come on, pick up.”

  Relief surged through her when she heard his voice. “Cass—”

  “Jarrod,” she blurted before he could say more. “I see the rustlers. They’re in the pasture about three or four miles past my house. At least I think it’s them. I see a dim light in the distance and it’s moving like before. Like they’re herding the cattle.”

  “Where are you?” Tension filled his voice.

  “I’m parked in the trees on the side of the road with my lights off. But I’m going to try to follow them.”

  “Do not under any circumstances do that.”

  “But they might get away and it might be another month before we see them again.”

  “I’m on my way. I’m halfway to Kerrville but have just done a U-turn. I’m calling Jake, so you turn that truck on and get out of there. You get to the hospital and leave the rustlers to me.”

  “I am not leaving. They could be done before you or Jake get here,” she said, repeating her concern.

  And then her phone went dead.

  Jarrod drove while he pressed redial. There was nothing. He pressed again. The line was dead. He hit Jake’s number.

  “What’s up?” Jake asked. Jarrod heard some kind of noise in the background.

  “I’m on my way to four miles past my house. I’m coming in from halfway to Kerrville and Cassidy’s out there thinking she’s going to track rustlers. And her phone is dead or something. She’s not picking up.”

  “Jarrod, I’ve got a major wreck out here on the curve near Presley Creek. And both my deputies are on calls too. Keep me posted, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t let anything happen to her, buddy.”

  Jarrod’s stomach clenched. “Got it.” He hung up and dialed the number of the TSCRA field agent in charge, Agent Kirkpatrick. Jarrod filled him in and then hung up. He had to fight wanting to turn on his emergency lights and siren as he flew down the road. Agent Kirkpatrick had told him the rustlers were looking at some major time when they were caught and that made them very dangerous. The fact that no one had gotten near them yet meant they had no idea how they’d react to an encounter. And that meant Cass could be in over her head.

  Cas
sidy was standing beside her truck and tried to redial, but her phone was definitely dead. She dropped it into her pocket and crawled through the fence. Jarrod would find her truck and know which direction she’d gone. She tore the headband from her hair, hung it on the fence where she’d crossed into the pasture, and tried to make tracks into the hard dirt. And then she hurried across the dark pasture toward the trees. Tonight the moonlight was her friend, giving her enough light to see her way at least some.

  These heels were going to be the death of her, though.

  She was breathing hard when she made it to the small line of mesquite trees. No gulley tonight, just a thick line of trees and then another pasture. The lights had disappeared, going deeper into the ranch property, she hoped, because it gave Jarrod more time to get here.

  Looking around, she eased through the trees, tripped on a root, and went down. “Umph,” she grunted, but she didn’t waste time to any pain as she scrambled up. Then, glancing across the open pasture, she could make out the faint lights again.

  She stayed crouched down, which made crossing the distance more tiring. But she wanted to resemble some sort of animal if anyone were to happen to see her silhouette out here. Standing tall and straight was not a good idea. Even she knew that.

  She was breathing hard again when she made it to a small corral in the valley of pasture. She saw something she hadn’t been able to see in the darkness until she got closer. Did Jarrod have a camera out here? Oh man, she hoped so.

  Fear should have been making her run fast back across that pasture, but this was Jarrod’s livelihood they were messing with. This was Pops’s ranch, the vision for a family he loved and great-grandchildren he’d yet to meet when he’d begun building this place into the amazing ranch it was. And by gosh, she wasn’t going to just get in her truck and drive away when Sandy was in the hospital at that very moment having Pops’s second great-grandchild. Bo had a child, now Tru was having one, and . . . well, there was a fierce drive in her heart that said Jarrod deserved a child to play on this ranch Pops had built too. And that he and his brothers were fighting to save.