He smiled. “If you need a hand, let me know.”
“Thanks, I’ll be fine. You’ll need your beauty sleep if you’re to face Henry tomorrow.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you’ll know where I’ll be. I’ll grab my bag and follow you inside.”
She nodded and made her way over to where Baxter lay, his head on his paws and bright eyes never leaving Cordell. She unfastened the chain from his red leather collar. He bolted over toward their guest. She didn’t whistle him to her side. Cordell would cope with Baxter licking him to death.
She tucked the milk bottle under her arm and headed toward the front porch of the single-story ranch house. The desert areas of Montana would ice over before she’d change her mind about Cordell helping her with the calf. And she didn’t need any reminder about where he’d be. Her stomach did a strange little flip.
He’d be three doors down the hall.
Chapter Three
‡
Payton smothered a yawn and worked quickly to fill the plastic calf bottle with the last of the colostrum. After dinner Cordell had spent an hour on the phone before he’d gone to take a shower. She needed to get to the barn before he decided to help her with the calf and before she heard the sound of running water in the guest bathroom. Her hormones already fixated on the fact Cordell would soon be naked.
She pulled the rubber calf teat onto the bottle. Her cheeks radiated as much warmth as the cooker on which she’d heated the milk. For some reason sitting across the table at dinner in the small, cozy kitchen from a smiling Cordell had raised her body’s core temperature. And it hadn’t yet subsided. She dragged her unruly hair off her face. She needed to get back to reality. She had a ranch to run and a drought to survive. Remaining hyper-aware of Cordell, no matter how gorgeous he was, wasn’t going to get her chores done. Her teenage-crush days had ended a lifetime ago back in high school.
She collected the bottle, strode along the hall to the mudroom where she collected her worn denim jacket from off the coat rack. What had Henry been thinking suggesting Cordell bunk with her? He probably thought Cordell would at least be safe around her. It was common knowledge Payton coped just fine on her own. Even if blue-eyed cowboys like Rhett Dixon were determined to challenge her independence and single-status.
She set the bottle on the floor. The upside of Cordell’s visit was that he’d only stay a night. A night that was at least a third of the way through. Come morning her life would resume its safe, solitary and predictable routine. She shrugged on her coat and pulled her too-long hair out from beneath the collar. One of these days she was going to have to sit still for Mandy to give her a quick trim. A floorboard behind Payton creaked. She swung around. She’d left making her escape too late.
“Sorry,” Cordell said with a weary grin. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”
“It’s fine.” She frowned. “I thought you were taking a shower.”
He nodded. “I didn’t want to waste your water, so I kept it short.”
As he stepped closer she could see his damp hair. He was dressed in a simple grey T-shirt and dark denim jeans and his feet were bare. Her frown deepened as the clean scent of soap filled her lungs. She needed to get out more. She never knew a man could smell so good. Or that the tight stretch of a cotton T-shirt could empty her head of all rational thought.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She bent to pick up the milk bottle. “Water is like liquid gold around here at the moment.” She inclined her head toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee in the pot. Make yourself at home. I’ll be in the barn a while if the cow’s temper hasn’t improved.”
“Wait. I’ll grab my shoes and come too,” he said as he turned to retrace his steps.
“No, you don’t have to –”
But like at the roadside, Cordell appeared to have selective hearing and disappeared down the hallway. She stomped her feet into her boots.
Cordell soon joined her, his mirror-polished shoes looking out of place with his jeans.
She planted her hands on her hips. ‘Thanks, but I really don’t need any help.’
“I know.” His lips curved. “I’m not coming to help, I’m coming to watch.”
“Watch?”
“Yes. My money’s on the cow if you try to milk her again.”
“And why would you think I can’t handle one grouchy cow?”
Laughter gleamed in the blue of his eyes. “Because the back of your jeans tells me you’ve landed on your butt more than once this afternoon.”
She failed to catch her own smile. She’d checked the state of the rip but hadn’t dusted off the seat of her jeans. Several well-timed kicks from the unimpressed cow had sent her butt-first onto the dusty barn floor.
“Okay. Yes. There were a few pecking-order issues but it will all be fine now. Besides, the cow might accept the calf and I won’t have to milk her.”
Cordell headed for the door. “Let’s go and find out.”
“You know your fancy city shoes will get trashed in the barn,” she called after him. But as her gaze slid from his broad shoulders, down to his Wrangler-clad butt, all reasons why he should stay inside fled. Muttering beneath her breath, she grabbed her father’s old sheepskin coat and followed Cordell out into the darkness.
“Here, put this on,” she said as they reached the red barn door. The coat wasn’t so much to warm Cordell against the night air but for her piece of mind. Something had to be wrong with her? Lean, long-legged cowboys were nothing new in her world, so why did this cowboy’s smile have the power to make her breath hitch?
She handed him the coat. She didn’t need to be distracted by the flex of a smooth biceps. She wasn’t landing back on her butt on the barn floor around Cordell anytime soon.
“Thanks.”
His white grin flashed in the moonlight as he slid on the jacket.
She opened the barn door and switched on the barn light that would illuminate the entrance and leave the pens shadowed. The rustle of straw sounded as the cow stood and turned to look at them.
Payton entered the calf’s pen and ran a hand along his soft black back. He blinked his wide eyes open to stare at her. She’d take the edge off his hunger before she let him loose on the cow’s full and tender udder.
“Hey buddy, it’s dinner time.”
The calf scrambled to his feet and head-butted her knees looking for milk. She guided the teat into the calf’s mouth. When he sucked strongly, she glanced toward the still quiet cow and then to where Cordell leaned his hip against the wooden pen rail.
“Sorry to disappoint you but there could be no show,” she said with a grin. “Miss-Cranky-Pants over there is half asleep and appears quite amiable. She might adopt the calf without a fuss and then I won’t have to milk her.”
The corner of Cordell’s mouth kicked into a half-mile. “Or she’s lulling you into a false sense of security.”
“Thanks. You’re a regular ray of sunshine.”
His rich laughter rippled through the fine hairs on her nape. He moved away from the wooden rail. “How about I go and find some grain for our Plan A. There looks to be feed bins over there to the right?”
She nodded, her attention diverted as the impatient calf butted the bottle wanting a quicker milk flow.
Cordell returned with a grain-filled bucket.
“He’s a lucky little critter. I was in Texas a few weeks ago and a calf like him wouldn’t have stood a chance. Cow’s didn’t have the strength to stand let alone milk for a newborn.”
“That’s dreadful.” Her eyes lingered on Cordell’s drawn features. The rawness of his words hinted at a fatigue that bit deeper than physical exhaustion.
Cordell stared at the calf. “That’s why I need Henry’s land. He hasn’t run cattle for years and pasture-rich Larkspur Ridge is a hungry Texan cow’s idea of paradise.”
“So you’ve bought some cattle to fatten?”
She again concentrated on feeding the calf. Cattle-trading was a common ranch practi
ce but it didn’t feel quite right Cordell making money off someone else’s misfortune. He would have purchased the starving cattle for a pittance and would make a healthy profit once they grew sleek and fat.
“I haven’t bought them. I’m helping out an old friend.” Cordell paused. “Luke gave me a place to stay when I needed one and it’s the least I can do to save the last of his breeding stock. His family has bred cattle for four generations and the financial pressure of no rain has cost him his marriage. I now can’t let him lose everything. I said I’d take care of the cattle until he got back on his feet.”
From the gravity of Cordell’s words she knew such a thing could take a while even if rain were to fall across the Lone Star State.
“This little critter might be lucky, but your friend is lucky too; he has you.”
“Maybe.” Cordell rubbed a hand along his jaw. “He swears his grey hair is a result of all the things I dragged him into when we were youngsters on the rodeo circuit.”
“Boys will be boys.”
Cordell smiled but even in the poor light she could see his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Some boys took more risks than others. My Denver agricultural consultancy business can run itself for a while. I owe it to Luke to get my hands dirty and to safeguard his, and his infant son’s, future.”
The calf sucked the last of the milk from the bottle, his appetite in no way satisfied.
“Okay,” she said as she opened the wooden pen gate and slipped through before the calf could follow her. “Let’s see if your brother’s trick works. Do your water and grain thing and we’ll introduce the cow to her new, beautiful baby.”
*
“Please tell me I’m not seeing things,” Payton said the next morning from the barn doorway. Cordell turned away from the sight of the calf feeding from the contented cow. He narrowed his eyes as the bright early morning light poured through the door Payton had left open behind her.
“No, you’re not. Your cranky cow has turned into a doting mother.”
“My Vicks days are behind me. The grain trick really works,” Payton said as she rested her arms beside his on the top timber rail of the cow’s pen. He breathed in her sweet floral scent and felt the companionable pressure of her arm against his. “Look at his little tail wiggle, he’s so happy, and look at the size of his belly. He can’t possibly be hungry any more.”
Cordell only nodded. He needed another second or two before he could speak. The beauty of Payton’s smile delivered such a jolt to his senses he knew the water and grain plan was the only thing to have worked. He’d thought a sleepless night would blur the effect this Montana cowgirl had on him. His jaw clenched. He’d been wrong. Her happiness danced through him like the dust swirling through the streams of barn light.
“Your brother is one clever cowboy.”
“Yes, he is.”
She was so close he could see the thick length of her dark lashes, the satin hue of her skin and the natural pink of her full lips. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her fine-boned face was all high cheekbones and large eyes. But as fragile as she appeared, the strength of her spirit shone from her intelligent brown gaze.
He straightened so their arms no longer touched. He had to get out of the barn and away from all temptation to tug her close and explore the soft skin below her jawline with his mouth. He’d come to Montana to lease Henry’s land and to make peace with the past. Not to have his self-control desert him.
He forced himself to remain still while she reached out to touch his jacket collar. When she lowered her arm he saw straw caught between her fingers.
“Did you sleep here?”
He stiffened. He’d hoped she wouldn’t discover where he’d spent the night. The knowledge would only lead to questions he didn’t want to answer.
“Yes.” He forced a casual smile. “I lied when I said I could handle sleeping in a room full of flowers.”
“But I came in at one and again at four and you weren’t here?”
“I was. You brought a flashlight. I didn’t want to scare you or talk in case I spooked the cow.”
“You slept here all night?” she said frowning at a pen filled with clean straw.
“And it was quite comfortable compared to some of the places I’ve slept on the rodeo circuit.”
“But why stay? You were dog-tired and I had everything under control.”
“I know you did.” He scraped a hand through his city-short hair. “I couldn’t sleep so thought I may as well be on hand if the cow didn’t share your view of the calf being cute enough to be her own.”
Her frown cleared but the intensity of her stare didn’t waver.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you often not sleep?”
“It depends on where I am.” He swung away toward the open barn door. His secrets, along with his emotions, had to remain hidden. “I don’t know about you, but I hear the coffee pot calling.”
He stepped into the new day and strode toward the ranch house. But as fast as he moved he couldn’t outrun the darkness of the memories that stalked his dreams no matter where he slept.
*
Two coffees later, Cordell drove through the wooden archway of the Larkspur Ridge main gate. Heavy dew clung to the gossamer cobwebs strung between the wire of the fence either side of the road. Behind him pockets of mist lazed in the valley hollows. Winter would soon throw its blanket of white over the mountains but Henry’s land would provide perfect wintertime grazing. The draws and gullies would offer protection from the snow and the pine trees respite from the wind. The Texan cattle would soon grow thick coats and adapt to their new environment.
He swallowed. If only he could be so resilient. The knot in his gut told him he could stay at Payton’s ranch countless winters and still his self-control would hemorrhage. Never before had he found it so difficult to remain on task or to keep his feelings in check when around a woman. It wasn’t just how she looked. Sure her smile kicked him harder than a stallion’s hoof, but she was so much more than a beautiful face. Her strength, her kindness and her generosity humbled him.
She’d insisted he wear her father’s sheepskin jacket to see Henry. She argued that Henry would relate to him more than if he wore his suit. Cordell’s grip firmed on the steering wheel. But when he then returned the jacket, his visit to Beargrass Hills would have to be his last. Even if Henry agreed to the lease proposition and he and Payton became neighbors, he had to put distance between them before he forgot who he was and why he’d come to Montana. Once Luke’s cattle were settled, Cordell could split his time between Marietta and Denver until the pieces of his friend’s life slotted back together.
He approached the ranch house and just like before, Rocky dashed toward the rental car. But this time, a shrill whistle sounded and the Australian Shepherd retraced his steps to where Henry hobbled away from the corral. Behind him the buckskin had her nose deep in the bucket of food Henry had delivered.
Cordell parked the sedan, collected Payton’s container of chocolate-chip cookies and made his way over to the old rancher. The buckskin lifted her head, her nostrils flaring, before returning to her feed.
Henry eyed off Cordell’s mismatched city-shoes, jeans and sheepskin jacket. “Coat Payton’s idea?” A suspicion of a smile warmed his grey gaze.
“Yup. The things I do to get you your cookies. It was no coat, no cookies.”
Cordell bent to rub the Shepherd’s ears. “Sorry, no ribs today, Rocky.”
“For someone who slept in a bed you look like hell,” Henry said as Cordell carefully straightened, “and you move like you’re as old as me.”
He rolled his bad shoulder. He’d once come off second-best riding a black bronc that was more devil than horse.
“We re-mothered the calf last night, so I slept in the barn.”
Henry grunted, the brief dip of his head telling Cordell that the sound was more one of approval than disinterest. “Did you use Vicks?”
“No, grain and water. My brother swears by it.”
Henry’s eyes narrowed.
“Smart man. Younger brother?”
“Yes, by minutes.”
“That figures. Identical twins?”
“No. But we do look similar even if we are then very different.”
“Let me guess.” Henry’s stare zeroed in on Cordell’s stiff shoulder. “He’s not so knocked about?”
Cordell grinned. “True. But while I might have a few more aches and pains than Ethan, there’s plenty of life left in me yet. I could still go a bareback bronc round or two.”
Henry chuckled. “You and me both.”
The old rancher’s laughter shaved decades off his face. The rigid line of his jaw relaxed as memories returned him to an earlier life. Cordell’s own rodeo memories stirred. The smell of leather, dust and sweat. The intense quiet as the chute opened. The rush of adrenaline as the horse beneath him exploded into life.
A gust of cold wind funneled down the back of his neck and returned him to the present. There were no more rodeos. Just promises to keep. He adjusted the sheepskin coat collar. “Henry,” he said, voice now quiet, “I know what you’re up to. It won’t work.”
An indefinable expression flashed across his weathered face, before his mouth tensed. “And what’s that?”
“Payton is like a daughter to you and so it’s only natural you want to help her.”
“That might be so but we both know that Payton accepting help is as likely as a blizzard in summer.”
“But it doesn’t stop you … and me … from trying. You delayed making your decision last night so I’d stay with her, didn’t you?”
Henry’s only answer was a scowl that would have sent a lesser man hightailing it to his car.
Cordell held his sub-zero gaze. He’d dealt with men far frostier than Henry. “I agree, in a perfect world Payton wouldn’t be on her own and responsible for running Beargrass Hills. But I’m not the answer. The truth is I’m no good for her.” He swallowed past an unexpected sense of loss. “I have trouble staying in one place and she needs someone steady and reliable like my brother.”
Cherish Me, Cowboy (Montana Born Rodeo Book 2) Page 3