Cherish Me, Cowboy (Montana Born Rodeo Book 2)

by Alissa Callen

  Cordell’s hoarse, almost desperate, tone brought her gaze back to his face.

  “Mossy’s gone.”

  The strain tensing his mouth eased a notch. “It’s fine. He’d have performed another Houdini act.”

  Cordell looked past her as if wanting her to step away from the door to let him pass.

  “No.” She grabbed at his arm that held his towel in place. Beneath her fingertips his hot skin seared and his muscles grew rigid. “The gate’s wide open. There’s boot tracks and hoof marks; however he left, Mossy didn’t go willingly.”

  Anger flashed through the blue of Cordell’s eyes. But as quickly as the emotion appeared it disappeared. His gaze turned icy and impassive. But as she let go of his arm and she stepped aside, he dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead.

  “He’ll be okay, Pay. I’ll throw on some clothes and we can go search for him.”

  She followed Cordell down the hallway. Despite her fears she might know who had taken Mossy, her hormones appreciated their near-naked and tanned cowboy view before Cordell shut his bedroom door.

  “It couldn’t have been Rhett,” she said through the wood, chewing on the side of a nail.

  Silence.

  “He wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  The door opened. Cordell emerged, face expressionless. His fingers buttoned his emerald-green shirt but not before she’d seen the beads of water glistening on his collarbones. She folded her arms to stop herself from sliding her palms inside his shirt and over his golden skin to brush them away.

  “No comment,” Cordell said, jaw set as he strode along the hallway to the mudroom. “You’d better call the hospital.”

  “It wasn’t him,” she said but her words contained no conviction. There were three boot tracks found at Hollyhock Creek Ranch where the cows were taken. Rhett had been hanging out with three lots of cowboy trouble in the form of the Taylor boys.

  “He’ll be there if he tries to ride him,” Cordell said as he stopped beside the coat rack and pulled on his boots.

  Payton reached for her own boots. “But he’s a rodeo rider, he’ll be fine riding any horse.”

  “Not Mossy.” Cordell’s serious eyes met hers. “Call the hospital. If he’s not there, then we’ll need to look for Rhett as well as Mossy.”

  As she headed into the kitchen to use the landline, Henry called from outside.

  “Hello, the house. I think you might be missing a certain black horse that nearly took my arm off.”

  Mossy.

  She rushed to the window to see Mossy walking behind Henry, his head hanging low as if he were a placid, bomb-proof child’s pony. Her brows lifted. Mossy might have snapped at Henry but his resistance must have been a token one. The lead rope Henry held, and the head collar Mossy wore, were the ones Gypsy had used when she’d arrived. Payton had returned them to Henry and they would have still been in his truck.

  Cordell strode out from the front porch and she opened the kitchen window to hear their conversation.

  Cordell shook Henry’s hand and then stood still as Mossy rubbed his head against his green shirt.

  “I didn’t think he’d get too far even though he’s probably been out since last night,” Cordell said, running his hand down the horse’s legs, checking him for injuries.

  “He got far enough. He was running along the fence line stirring up Payton’s temperamental bull. Just as well I’d decided to head into Marietta otherwise I’m sure Trouble would have broken through the fence to get to him.”

  She turned away from the window to reach for the phone. Now that Mossy was accounted for she needed to check where Rhett was. Surely what Cordell said couldn’t be true? Rhett wouldn’t be in hospital. Mossy had had human help to escape but her childhood friend wouldn’t be crazy enough to ride him, even if egged on.

  She dialed the number for the Dixons’ Bluebell Falls Ranch. Kendall’s smooth voice sounded at the other end. “Kendall Dixon speaking.”

  Except this time her usual serene tone was tense and distracted.

  “Hi Kendall, it’s Payton, I’m after Rhett.”

  “Hi, Pay, I’m so glad you called. Rhett’s been in Marietta hospital since the early hours of the morning. Somehow he’s broken some ribs and injured his knee. He didn’t come home last night, which is normal these days, so who knows what he’s been doing.”

  Payton’s fingers tightened around the phone receiver. She knew. “Whatever he was doing, a stay in hospital will make sure he won’t be doing it again. Give my love to your mom and tell her I’ll check on him.”

  “Thanks. Peta and Dad have gone in, I’m giving Mom her lunch and then I’ll go too.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there.”

  She slowly replaced the handset. Wait till she saw Rhett. His father and sisters wouldn’t chew him out, but she would. His injuries would soon be the least of his worries. His days of hanging out with the Taylors were over. His sick mother didn’t need any more worry.

  *

  Both Mossy and Cordell turned as Payton’s truck tires spun on the gravel as she left for Marietta.

  “I hope you went easy with him, Mossy, because something tells me Payton’s about to tear strips off Rhett.”

  Mossy’s head dipped lower and he closed his eyes as Cordell brushed the stiff sweat from his black coat.

  His anger at Mossy possibly being hurt had flared like a struck match and then faded as he’d doused all emotion. But now embers continued to smolder. It wasn’t Rhett who needed to be taken to task but the three cowboys he hung around with. From the similarity of their thin faces, he’d quickly identified them as brothers. He’d also noted how they’d plied Rhett with alcohol. When he next saw Rhett, after he’d let him know what a fool he’d been, he’d ask where the brothers could be found. His gut told him they weren’t going anywhere in a hurry. But they would when he’d finished with them. No-one messed with his horse.

  Mossy sighed as Cordell found his sweet spot below his withers.

  He glanced in the direction Payton had driven. The other night in his truck he’d been seconds away from finding Payton’s own sweet spot. And even now the thought of kissing her made the blood pound through his veins. There was a reason why every shower he’d had since then had been a cold one. Including the one this morning when she’d bashed on the door.

  Even knowing there was a crisis, it had taken all of his will-power to not haul her against him and feel the slide of her hands over his wet body. As it was her wide eyes had travelled over his bare chest with the intensity of a physical touch. A small towel had provided scant protection from what she did to him.

  He paused in brushing Mossy’s flank. He had to get himself under control. He’d meant what he said to Henry, Payton was off limits. He couldn’t start something with her only to then leave. She deserved someone far better.

  As for why he and Mossy had really come to Marietta, the day was drawing near when his asking of careful questions had to end. And then there’d be only one thing left to do. To act.

  The gathering breeze washed across his face. He looked at the sky that was no longer a calm, pristine blue. Clouds, swollen and heavy, hung over the high-country.

  A storm would soon roll in.

  *

  Payton breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Rhett’s hospital room free from visitors. She’d stopped to chat to a worried Peta and her taciturn father in the parking lot. Kendall was on her way in from the ranch, so Payton had a small window in which to ensure Rhett’s rabble-rousing days with the Taylors ended.

  She knocked quietly on his door and as Rhett opened his eyes she went in.

  “Hey, cowboy,” she said as she kissed his whiskered cheek and put the bag of salted caramels she’d stopped to pick up from Copper Mountain Chocolates on the nightstand.

  “Hey,” he croaked.

  She pulled a chair toward the bed and took his hand.

  As his guilty gaze met hers she knew, despite his pain, he was lucid enough for the conversat
ion they had to have.

  “What were you thinking?” she asked, without a smile.

  He didn’t pretend to not know what she was talking about.

  “I’m sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “A good idea after drinking all night with the Taylors?”

  “They said it would teach Cordell for messing with my girl.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “What am I going to do with you? You know I’m not your girl.”

  He sighed. “I do. Now.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, after seeing you with Cordell at Grey’s.”

  She frowned. “I’m not Cordell’s girl either. Those stories about what happened after we left Grey’s are rumors. All we did was talk.”

  “I know. But you are his girl. I’ve never seen you look at anyone like you look at him.”

  “Rhett, it doesn’t mean anything. You know I only have time for my ranch. Besides, he’ll be gone soon.”

  “Will he? I saw the way he looked at you too.” This time Rhett squeezed her hand. “You’re special, Pay. Really special. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not me putting the smile on your pretty face. Do you love him?”

  She stayed silent. The ache in her chest answered for her. She hadn’t even admitted such a truth to herself, but yes, she loved Cordell. Her easy-smiling and gorgeous cowboy had brought light and laughter into her life and pushed aside the loneliness she’d always hidden. From the start, he’d surprised and intrigued her, but most of all he’d understood her.

  She nodded slowly.

  “Well then, if Cordell can ride that devil of a horse he’s the right man for you.”

  She gave a small grin. “I’m not sure I like being compared to Mossy let alone to the devil?”

  “I’m saying nothing that you don’t already know. You need a strong man, Pay, you wouldn’t be happy with a lap dog. And this cowboy … as much as I hate to say it, he’s the right person for you.”

  Her smile faded at the sadness in his voice. “Rhett, you’ll find the right person too. There’s a girl out there waiting for your paths to cross.”

  “I won’t be walking for a while, let alone crossing any paths.”

  “Yes, you will and you will cross the right girl’s path. You have to stop being someone that you’re not. I know it’s hard since your mom had her heart attack. But getting drunk every night and hanging out with the Taylors isn’t going to make you feel any better or numb your fear that you will lose her.” Her thumb brushed his hand. “You are special too. Be true to yourself and the rest will follow.”

  Rhett’s nod and the gravity of his eyes confirmed he’d heeded her words. “Any other things, Miss Bossy Beargrass.”

  She heard light footsteps in the hospital corridor. Kendall had arrived. Payton stood, still holding onto Rhett’s hand. Her work here was done if he was calling her by the pet name he’d favored while they were growing up.

  “Yes,’ she said with a gentle smile, “get a haircut.”

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  The sound of drumming on the ranch house roof merged with the hoof beats pounding through his dreams. Cordell’s eyes snapped open. Mossy. When he registered he was lying on his stomach in a double bed that featured a headboard covered in a white and pink floral fabric he knew where he was. Three doors down from Payton in the main house of Beargrass Hills Ranch. He also knew Mossy was safe.

  His mental fog cleared a little more and he realized the storm had arrived and with it rain. Relief swept through him. Payton would be happy. He flipped onto his bare back and allowed the tension to drain from his arms and legs. The mustang mare would be used to being outside in the elements and so too was Mossy. In each horse’s paddock there was also a sheltering grove of pines. Likewise the Texan cattle would also have plenty of opportunities for shelter with the abundance of trees and draws.

  What time was it? He turned his head to check the luminous dials of the bedside alarm clock and groaned. It was two in the morning. He’d only slept for an hour. He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the pale ceiling as he’d done each night now for almost a week.

  Usually he couldn’t sleep because of his ingrained need to know where he was and to be ready for trouble. But now his poor sleep had more to do with a Montana cowgirl than with habit.

  When Payton had returned from seeing Rhett it’d been late. Cordell had done the chores and after raiding the refrigerator and larder had fashioned some passable sloppy joes. She’d been unusually quiet during dinner. He was also sure she’d blushed when he’d caught her looking at him, an indefinable expression clouding her eyes. She’d then pleaded tiredness and headed to bed early. At least when she woke in the morning, if the storm hadn’t already woken her, it would be to a wet world.

  Above the wind and the rain a dog barked. Had he also heard laughter? He pushed himself into a sitting position and listened. Thunder rumbled but not before he’d caught the unmistakable sound of a woman laughing.

  He threw off the bed covers. What was Payton doing outside? All hell would soon break loose. The storm was only beginning. He grabbed a black T-shirt and pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants. Then, bare footed, he padded along the cold hallway floorboards, through the open front door and out onto the lighted porch. Rain streamed from the full gutters and fell in thick ropes of water. It was as though Mother Nature delivered a year’s worth of rain in a single deluge.

  The soft glow of the porch light illuminated the girl and the dog dancing in the rain. Dressed in a soaked pink tank top and clinging pajama shorts she kicked at the puddles. Baxter, his liver-red coat dark with water, jumped around her feet. Unaware of Cordell’s presence, she stopped. Arms outstretched, she turned her face to the sky, smiled and closed her eyes.

  Something in his chest tightened and then tore.

  He’d never seen anyone more beautiful. He’d never met anyone who affected him so much. She’d gazed at him through her open truck window and tilted her chin, daring him to judge her as helpless, and had sent his world into a spin. And it hadn’t yet stopped spinning. She made him feel. Need, protectiveness, contentment.

  Love.

  He couldn’t deny it any more. He loved the breathtaking, brave and free-spirited cowgirl before him.

  His hands fisted by his side. But he could no more tell her how he felt than he could hurt her. He wasn’t programmed to stay around. He should return inside. It wasn’t his right to share in her happiness. He went to turn away when lightning zigzagged across the jet-black sky. Payton didn’t flinch or open her eyes as rain continued to fall on her upturned face. He hesitated. He also couldn’t leave her out here with the center of the storm soon to hit.

  He stepped to the edge of the porch and called her name into the wind. Her arms lowered and she swung around.

  He motioned at her to join him on the porch. With Baxter at her side, she splashed her way over, dripped water over his feet and took hold of his hand.

  “Come on, who says I don’t ever have any fun?”

  Her eyes shone with such golden life, her smile contained such uninhibited joy, all he could do was nod and follow. Getting wet was a small price to pay for stealing a few brief minutes with her in a swirling and surreal world. When the clouds parted and the rain stopped, reality would return. He’d have a promise to keep and a city existence to return to.

  Within seconds, he was saturated. Water seeped through his cotton T-shirt and ran down the back of his neck. But as cold as the water was, the feel of her fingers entwined with his, heated his blood. Thunder boomed followed by an almost instantaneous lightning flash. The storm was almost directly overhead. Knowing the wind would steal his words, he tugged her toward the porch. Again, she shook her head. Baxter, his tail between his legs, fled to the safety of his dry kennel.

  Thunder again roared. Cordell snagged Payton’s slender waist and slung her over his shoulder. He reached the porch just before a jagged bolt splintered the sky.


  Chest heaving, he firmed his hold on the back of her knees as he readied himself to return her to the ground. Cool air brushed his lower back and stomach. Payton must have gripped the bottom of his T-shirt to balance herself and had pulled it midway up his torso. He carefully took her weight and lowered her to the porch floorboards. But as he did so her full breasts pressed against his chest and her bare skin slid against his. He bit back a groan. The wet friction between the cotton of his shirt and her tank top had caused her own shirt hem to ride upward. There was now nothing between their naked midriffs but the wet lick of water.

  His hands moved to her waist to steady her as her feet touched the ground. Beneath the pads of his fingers, he could feel the jut of her hips and the ripple of goosebumps over her soft skin. He fought for control. She’d be mad at being slung over his shoulder like a sack of grain. It would be okay. She’d tell him off and step away before he did something they’d both regret.

  She didn’t move.

  The soundtrack of the storm’s fury dulled to a whisper.

  Every breath she took pushed her chest closer to his. Every breath he took threatened to shatter his self-control. When had she laced her hands around his neck? Another three seconds, and he’d be finishing what they’d started in his parked truck.

  He didn’t even make it to two.

  His mouth covered hers. She tasted of rain and sweetness. Smelt of summer and mountain wildflowers. As she stood on tip-toe to match his hunger, the sky could have caved in over him and he wouldn’t have cared.

  As much as she took, he gave. And as much as he asked for, she granted.

  Her hands unclasped from behind his neck and slid over his water-slicked abs and under his T-shirt. He shuddered, knowing he was exposed but powerless to hide how she moved him and what she made him feel.

  “Payton,” he groaned as they came up for air. “I can’t hurt you. I can’t stay.”

  “I know,” she said, before again fusing her mouth with his.

  His hands found the neat curve of her butt and pulled her even closer. This time she was the one who spoke as they drew apart to breathe.