Cherish Me, Cowboy (Montana Born Rodeo Book 2)

by Alissa Callen

  She didn’t think he’d heard her and then his fingers wrapped around hers.

  “Okay,” he said, his single word a hoarse rasp.

  During the short and chilly walk to the truck, Payton kept her hand linked with Cordell’s. If she let go she wasn’t sure she could again pull him back from the inner-darkness she’d just glimpsed. If she opened her mouth to speak she wasn’t sure she could control the emotions rioting within her chest. She didn’t glance sideways as a truck passed and honked its horn or look up at the fairy lights strung between the lampposts like earth-bound stars. She only nodded when Cordell opened the door for her and didn’t say a word when he slid into the driver’s side seat. But as they left Marietta, she found her voice.

  “Pull over.”

  In the dim light of the truck cabin, Cordell shot her a quick and dark look.

  “Now?”

  “Yes. Now. And here,” she said, indicating where the roadside verge widened and would allow them to pull off a safe distance from the asphalt.

  The truck’s indicator provided the only sound in the strain as Cordell pulled onto the verge. He killed his lights and then the engine. The moonlight cast a pale glow in the cabin.

  She released her seat belt and turned toward him. “What was that all about?”

  Cordell’s knuckles shone white on the steering wheel before he too unfastened his seat belt. He shifted in his seat to face her.

  “Nothing. There wasn’t a problem. I didn’t touch him.”

  She’d been around Cordell for long enough to recognize the repressed anger clipping his words. “You didn’t have to. I saw your … face.”

  “And?”

  She frowned. In the moonlight his features were all hard planes, shadows and secrets. “And … I want to know why you have such a death wish?”

  He matched her frown. “Death wish?”

  “Yes, this isn’t the only time I’ve seen you take an unnecessary risk. You would have taken on Rhett and every cowboy in that saloon in a heartbeat, not giving a damn about your safety.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t take unnecessary risks. I take calculated risks. There’s a difference.”

  “True, but when it comes to calculated risks we have different definitions. I use emotion to weigh up if a risk is worth taking.” She lifted a hand as if to touch him but then laced her fingers together. “And you don’t.”

  His frown deepened. “That’s right. I don’t. Emotion has no place in decision making.”

  “Why not? I’ve seen you with Mossy. I hear the love you have for your brother when you talk about him. You do experience deep emotion. So why do you shut down and go into a place where you don’t feel and you don’t care, even about yourself?”

  His mouth tensed. “Life isn’t always a perfect eight-second bull ride, Payton.”

  She flinched as the raw memories from earlier in the day battered her. “Don’t you think I don’t know that?”

  Apology glittered in the depths of his hooded eyes. He brushed her cheek with tender fingers. “I’m sorry, that was harsh and out of line.”

  She nodded, wishing the slow and comforting glide of his touch hadn’t ended so soon.

  “Cordell, your emotions make you human. They make you care that your words were harsh. They anchor you, they protect you. You can’t keep on ignoring them, especially when you need them the most.”

  His expression settled into unreachable lines.

  There had to be a way to bypass the emotionless firewall he’d surrounded himself in.

  She uncurled her fingers and returned his gesture of comfort by sliding her fingers along the whiskered line of his firm jaw.

  “Talk to me,” she said, her tone soft as she searched his hewn face for a sign he’d let her in. “Let me help you.”

  He stiffened but didn’t move away from her touch. “So how does that work? You’re allowed to help me. First, with prime ribs, then with a coat and cookies and with having a place to stay, and yet I’m not allowed to help you. Period.”

  She hesitated. The only way Cordell would open up to her was if she gave him a glimpse of the pain darkening her own inner world. Her fingers trembled and she lowered them from his jaw. “It’s not that I don’t want your help … it’s more I can’t accept it.”

  He remained silent as if sensing if he replied she’d lose her nerve and not be able to continue.

  She swallowed and then spoke. “I need to stay in control. I couldn’t control my father falling, I couldn’t control my mother wasting away and I can’t control when it will rain, but there are other things I can control. If I do everything myself, then I don’t feel so powerless or so … hopeless and weak.”

  Cordell nodded, a muscle working in the taut plane of his cheek. He reached for her left hand, linked his fingers with hers and kissed the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist.

  She shivered at the caress of his lips and the fixed intensity of his eyes.

  “Payton,” he said, voice husky, “you are the strongest person I know but it’s impossible to deal with everything life throws at you on your own. Letting someone share your burdens will only make you stronger, not weaker. There’s a reason why all the nearby ranches are named after wildflowers. The pioneers formed a community and together they helped each other carve out a new future.”

  She gazed at their joined hands. Her fingers looked so fragile and slender against his strength. Was it okay to once again draw upon another’s solidity? Before death had stripped the light from her life she’d been better able to accept help. Was he speaking the truth? His considered words were filled with conviction. Could she become stronger by relinquishing control?

  “If I consider allowing myself to accept help,” she said, her voice an uncertain whisper, “will you allow yourself to feel … and I mean really feel?”

  He too stared at their hands and then he slowly nodded.

  “Deal.”

  But the casualness of his tone didn’t match the grooves slashed beside his mouth.

  This time Payton remained quiet, giving Cordell the space and time to speak.

  “But I already do feel,” he said, his pained words a rasp in the night-time stillness. “I just … stop myself. Emotions have only ever been a liability. My mother and grandmother spent their lives running from an abusive man. I guess I absorbed their fear. I still can’t sleep well, even as an adult.”

  He paused and her fingers tightened on his.

  “Ethan and I were always the new kids in school. I soon learned to blank out my emotions and to use my fists to protect us. In my teens I started testing myself by taking risks to make sure I wouldn’t feel and I guess I haven’t stopped. One of the reasons I took Mossy on was because I can never relax around him.”

  “Well, you got that one right.”

  The corners of Cordell’s mouth briefly curved.

  “You are a good and decent person,” she continued, “and it is your emotions that make you this way. You can’t keep shutting them out and taking dangerous risks because …” Her voice cracked as the image of him halfway up the windmill replayed in her mind. She placed her palm against his face. “One day your luck might run out.”

  With her left hand still entwined with his, it was as though by touching his lean cheek with her right hand she’d completed an electric circuit. A current of awareness flowed through her, quickening her breathing. As Cordell’s eyes darkened to near black, she knew he’d felt it too.

  “Payton.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and her name was more a groan than a word.

  She leaned forward. It didn’t matter if Cordell would soon be gone. Even without his mouth covering hers, she was lost. There was no doubt she was a cowgirl with a pulse. A pulse that only beat for Cordell.

  He closed the small space between them. His warm breath washed over her mouth. Her lips parted.

  White light speared through the misted truck windows. “Get a room,” a man’s voice shouted before a car horn wailed.

&nbs
p; The moment shattered like her mother’s floral bone china on the slate kitchen floor.

  She jerked back, pulling her left hand free and her other hand away from Cordell’s face. What had she done?

  She’d lost control and let down her defences. She’d wanted to gain access into Cordell’s world to ease the pain that held him and his emotions hostage. She wasn’t supposed to then hand him the password to her soul.

  She sat back in her seat and closed her eyes to break the connection with the man beside her who watched her closely, his eyes bleak and his mouth compressed. She hadn’t only rendered herself vulnerable, she’d also jumped to the front of the Marietta gossip queue.

  Everyone had seen her leave Grey’s Saloon hand-in-hand with Cordell. Now his pickup, with its white and green Colorado mountain plates, was seen stationary with steamy windows. They may as well have been caught necking at the teenage make-out spot up at the lookout at Bobcat Hill.

  She rubbed her forehead. Dealing with a remorseful and hung-over Rhett tomorrow would be the least of her worries. Trinity and Mandy were going to have a field day.

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  The front door squeaked as it opened and Payton’s heart did a funny little leap. Cordell was back. He’d left the ranch house before she’d woken and for some reason until she saw him her day didn’t seem to be able to start. Ever since the cattle trucks had arrived and the black Angus were unloaded she’d hardly seen him. It was as though after their emotion-charged talk and near kiss, they’d made the mutual decision to keep out of each other’s way. Every so often their eyes would meet and lock, but then one of them would look away and the no-go safety zone between them be reestablished.

  Payton’s phone had run red-hot after their ill-fated roadside stop. Town gossip queen, Carol Bingley, had been the first to call. Now, five days later, the town’s attention had shifted to another juicy gossip item. According to Mandy, who heard all the up-to-date news working in the local hair salon, some stock had gone missing from Hollyhock Creek Ranch and three pairs of cowboy boot tracks had been found.

  Payton tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and brushed the dust off her worn jeans. At least with Cordell spending so much time with the Texan cows any would-be cattle rustlers wouldn’t have a hope of nabbing them. Boots sounded on the hallway floorboards and she busied herself rinsing the coffee pot. She didn’t want Cordell to think she’d been waiting for him.

  “Payton?” A man’s voice called out. She stifled a pang of disappointment. The voice and footsteps didn’t belong to Cordell.

  “Hi, Henry,” she said, “I’m in the kitchen.”

  She placed the coffee pot in the draining rack with the mug Cordell had used and washed at whatever hour he’d woken. She dried her hands on the dishcloth hanging from the cupboard handle.

  As the old rancher entered the kitchen, she greeted him with a cheery smile.

  “You’re in time for coffee, cookies and chocolate.”

  Henry’s grey eyes smiled. “As usual my timing is perfect.”

  “It sure is.”

  Henry sank into the wooden chair at the kitchen table and she assessed his expression. She’d never seen him look so shocked and so old as when he’d witnessed the horse knock over the pram at the rodeo. But today his face was its normal tanned hue.

  “So how’s that mustang coming along?”

  “Good,” she said as she placed a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies in front of him. “You won’t believe it but that cranky horse of Cordell’s has really calmed her down.”

  She took Sage’s hand-made chocolates from the fridge and untied the bag’s copper ribbon.

  “Stranger things have happened.” Henry looked at the chocolates. “Someone’s been shopping?”

  “Cordell.”

  “Well, I’ll say one thing, he hasn’t wasted any time getting to know Marietta if he’s already found Sage’s store.”

  “I know,” Payton said, as she placed the sweet-smelling cowboy-boot chocolates in a glass bowl. As she set the bowl beside the plate of cookies Henry traced a pattern on the smooth table surface with his blunt finger.

  “Has he been asking questions when he’s been making himself at home in town?”

  “No, I don’t think so. He’s only ever asked me about Rhett’s sisters.” She looked up from where she poured two mugs of coffee. “Why?”

  “No reason. Just curious. He just strikes me as a man who likes to know what’s going on.”

  “He does.” She carried the coffees to the table and then sat at the table too. “You know, I can’t help but think he reminds me of someone but I can’t for the life of me work out who.”

  Henry took a second to answer. “Cowboys nowadays all look the same, not like back in my time. Take Rhett, since he started hanging out with those Taylor boys, he’s grown his hair long and wears jeans at least a size too small like every other fancy cowboy.” Henry drew his coffee toward him. “You still doing okay for hay?”

  Payton didn’t miss the quick change of subject. “Yes. But I thought you were sending a few bales over for Gypsy, not a whole truck.”

  Henry’s lips twitched. “There must have been a mistake with the order.”

  She sent him a mock frown. “I bet there was.”

  “You’ll be right now for hay until it rains. Which might be sooner than you think. The weather channel says a storm will be coming through in the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I sure hope so. None of the predicted storms ever seem to come my way.” She selected a cookie to hide the desperation her face would reveal. “I’ve forgotten what rain looks like.”

  “It’ll rain. Don’t you worry about that. And the way my hip aches, it’s going to be some storm.”

  He stared at the single coffee mug in the draining rack. “When are Joe and Maria back?”

  “Three days and I’m counting. I might love baking cookies but I sure struggle preparing a proper meal.”

  “I bet they’re enjoying seeing their new little granddaughter?”

  “They would be.” She took a sip of coffee. It was a cruel world that had never allowed Henry to have children.

  “I hear you and Cordell caused quite a stir Sunday night.”

  “I’m sure you did. Was that before or after Grey’s Saloon? And is that the version where I did, or didn’t, have my shirt on when I gave him a lap dance in his truck?”

  Henry chuckled. “The version where you and Cordell talked.”

  “Oh. Who told you that? I didn’t think there was a true version out there?”

  “Cordell. He called. He didn’t want me to think he wasn’t minding his manners.”

  She laughed. “That’s right, you mentioned Rhett’s shiner to him. I might have known you’d told him to behave himself. You’ll be glad to know I won’t ever have to give Cordell a black eye. His manners are flawless and, like me, he’s only interested in his cows.”

  She expected Henry to laugh too but instead his shrewd gaze flickered over her face.

  She was never so glad to hear Baxter bark. She pushed back her chair to collect another coffee mug. “Speaking of Cordell, he and Baxter are back.”

  Boots sounded and then the soft fall of socked feet after Cordell removed his boots in the mudroom. He walked through the doorway, his shirt and jeans covered in dried mud.

  He shook Henry’s hand and then smiled across at her as she poured him a coffee. “Hey, Payton.”

  “Hey.” She only hoped Henry would associate the flare of warm color in her cheeks with drinking her too-hot coffee.

  Cordell sat at the table, careful not to transfer the dirt from his clothes onto the floor. She gave him his coffee and then returned to her seat before his easy grin of thanks weakened her sensible knees.

  “Henry, when were those cattle troughs of yours last cleaned?” Cordell asked as he reached for a chocolate with a clean hand. He must have made a stop at the garden tap before coming inside.

  “Good questio
n.” He dipped his head toward Cordell’s shirt that was more dust-brown than blue. “I take it they’re clean now?”

  “As a whistle. Which is more than I can say about Baxter and me.”

  “I thought one of your cattle might have looked poorly yesterday but he seems to have picked up today.”

  Cordell kinked a brow. “You either have super-human vision, Henry, or that was a pair of binoculars I saw the light shining on the other day.”

  The two men exchanged broad smiles.

  Payton smiled too, her heart full. She’d been right in thinking the afternoon she’d met Cordell that he and Henry might get on. Despite their age, the steadiness of their gazes and their innate decency had suggested to her they would respect each other and could become friends.

  Henry’s rare laugher boomed as Cordell cracked a joke. She wrapped her fingers around the warm sides of her mug to banish her growing chill. The small kitchen might be filled with companionship and fun this morning but it was only a matter of days before Cordell would move into the bunkhouse and then out of her life for good.

  She stood, coffee unfinished. She couldn’t stay in the cozy kitchen any longer. She had to get back to work and the things she could control.

  “I’ll leave you two to enjoy the cookies and chocolates, I’ve got chores that won’t do themselves.”

  *

  Half-an-hour later, chest tight and breaths ragged, she tore into the kitchen. Henry’s pickup was gone from out the front of the ranch house and from the sound of running water, Cordell was taking a shower.

  She sped along the hallway and hammered on the guest bathroom door.

  “Cordell.”

  The shower stopped and the door flew open even as Cordell secured a low-slung white towel around his lean hips.

  All air quit her lungs.

  High heels and boots weren’t her fantasy, just a water-slicked Cordell smelling of soap and sunshine.

  Distracted by a rivulet that seemed to be taking its sweet time sliding over his hard-packed abs, for a split-second she forgot what the emergency was.

  “Payton?”