Cherish Me, Cowboy (Montana Born Rodeo Book 2)

by Alissa Callen

  In front of them the ranch house lights twinkled in the darkness from the top of an invisible hill.

  “So are you staying?” Ethan asked, voice quiet.

  He didn’t even try to misunderstand what Ethan had asked. He took his time to speak. “One minute, I am. And the next, I’m not so sure. She could do so much better than me.”

  “According to Henry, she doesn’t want anyone but you.”

  “I have no idea how Henry knows such a thing.”

  “Maybe he just knows Payton?”

  He grunted. “Maybe.”

  Ethan laughed softy. “You are so Henry’s son. You’re even grunting like him now.”

  But Cordell didn’t join in with his brother’s mirth. His heart felt like it was about to rip in two.

  *

  Baxter barked from within the warmth of his kennel nestled beneath the pine tree as Cordell parked his truck beside the barn. He made no effort to move. Payton had left the porch light on and its soft pool of light beckoned him inside. Still he didn’t leave the truck. His bruised hand tightened around the steering wheel until his breath hissed.

  Physical pain was nothing compared to his internal torment. All his life he’d blanked out his emotions and now they appeared hell bent on revenge. Twisting and bucking, they gave him no peace or respite. Payton said his emotions made him human but all they did was cause him anguish. They rendered him vulnerable and they made him feel inadequacy and fear.

  He’d been lucky Mossy had his wits about him when they’d driven Trouble away from Payton and Henry because he sure didn’t have his. When they’d arrived to find Payton outside the truck, branch in hand waiting for the bull to charge, he hadn’t been able to breathe, let alone focus.

  What would happen if Trouble got past Mossy? What would happen if he failed to protect Payton? What would happen if he lost the woman he loved?

  And ever since his fear hadn’t left him.

  He sighed and he released his clamped grip on the steering wheel. His heart told him to stay, he did deserve a special woman like Payton. But his mind told him the only way to remain safe and to not feel was to keep moving.

  He made his way inside. In the kitchen he saw a foil-covered plate on the bench. His chest tightened. Payton had kept dinner for him. The living room fire crackled and he headed into the warm room. She lay asleep on the sofa, feet bare and a handmade red floral quilt covering her.

  Breathing ragged, he bent to caress her smooth cheek.

  The only place he’d ever want to be was by his beautiful and brave cowgirl’s side.

  She murmured his name and he bent to kiss her. She twined her hands around his neck and kissed him. A slow, sweet kiss that he never wanted to end.

  He could do this. He could silence the demons inside. He could learn to live with his emotions, no matter how defenseless they made him.

  He gathered Payton in his arms and she snuggled into his neck. He filled his lungs with her floral scent. He could never look at a perfumed beargrass wildflower again without thinking of her.

  He carried her along the hallway heading for his bed, but as he drew near to her bedroom door. He stopped.

  He’d ridden badass bulls. He’d braved Mossy’s wrath. He could do this. He could take the ultimate risk and tell her he loved her. He could stay. He took a step toward his own room. Blood pounded in his ears. Fear choked him. He again stopped.

  Legs leaden, he turned to walk through Payton’s doorway. He gently laid her on the bed and pulled the covers to her chin. Head bowed, he quit the room, without once looking back.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‡

  Payton awoke to two thoughts. She was in her own bed. Alone. And that she wasn’t going to lose Cordell. She mightn’t have any control over him leaving but that didn’t mean she couldn’t fight for her cowboy. She needed to tell him how she felt and then she needed to ask him to stay.

  She scrambled out of bed. She still wore her clean jeans and pink western shirt she’d put on to visit Henry after lunch yesterday. Trinity would cringe at her wardrobe selection but the creased and unromantic outfit would have to do. It wasn’t what she wore that was important, just the three simple words she had to say.

  But when she saw Cordell’s door open, the bed made and a packed duffle on the floor, her stomach plummeted to her bare toes. She drew a calming breath. Maria and Joe were returning that night, Cordell was simply getting ready to move into the bunkhouse.

  But as she sped along the hallway to see if he was in the kitchen, the tremble in her hands said she didn’t believe such an explanation. She pushed open the kitchen door but the room was also empty save for a small note on the table. The line of her rigid shoulders relaxed as she scanned Cordell’s message. He wasn’t leaving.

  He’d left early to collect Ethan to have breakfast with Henry. He’d then spend the morning showing Ethan around Marietta and would bring Henry home to Larkspur Ridge after lunch. He’d see her then.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. She now had over half a day until she would have a chance to talk to him. She needed a plan and failing that she needed to bake cookies. She reached for her cell phone that sat next to the microwave oven. Instinct cautioned her she’d only have one chance to convince Cordell to stay. Now there wasn’t such a rush to speak to him, her jeans and western shirt had to go. She needed all the ammunition she could get. What she really needed was a makeover.

  She dialed Mandy’s number.

  “Hi, Payton,” Mandy answered.

  “Hi, Mandy. Is today still your day off?”

  “Yes, it’s Monday. Why?”

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “No, but I am now.”

  “Good. Can you please style my hair?”

  Payton held the phone away from her ear as Mandy squealed. “You bet. Cut and blow-dry?”

  “Anything.”

  “Anything?” Mandy’s voice grew incredulous. “Who are you and where is the real Beargrass Hills cowgirl called Payton Hollis?”

  She chuckled. “Anything goes as long as I don’t have a pixie cut. Do you remember we all got them in high school? My neck has never felt so cold.”

  Mandy laughed. “Now there’s my practical girl.”

  “Are you still sitting?”

  “Yes.”

  “I also need to … shop for a … dress.”

  Silence. Then, “Pay, is everything okay?” Seriousness wiped all amusement from Mandy’s words.

  “It will be.”

  “You know Cordell will love you just the way you are?”

  A lump formed in her throat at her friend’s concern. “I’m hoping so. I don’t want to change who I am, I just need some sort of … secret weapon.”

  “Secret weapons are good, especially if they come with sky-high stilettos. I always said you’d change your mind about wearing heels.”

  “No heels.”

  “Okay then, we’ll pin that one for later. You know Trinity will hate to miss all the action. She has had a client cancel, the little girl has chicken pox, so she might have some time. I’ll text her. I think we’re going to need sugar, and it’s a nice day outside, so how about I meet you at the ice cream store and we formulate our game plan? Text me when you leave.”

  “Will do. And Mandy, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She laughed. “And don’t think you’ve gotten out of giving me a proper explanation for all of this.”

  “Not for a minute. Is now a good time to change the subject and say Cordell’s twin brother is in town?”

  Again she held the phone away from her ear as Mandy squealed. “Do hurry up, Payton, we have so much to talk about.”

  *

  But as Payton sat in Crawford Park outside the domed courthouse playing with her uneaten vanilla ice cream she thankfully couldn’t get a word in. While Mandy and Trinity debated the color of her soon-to-be inflicted foils, she watched the golden autumn leaves drift to the ground from the park’s flame-bright trees. Normally the
sight filled her with a sense of peace, but not today. Until she convinced Cordell to stay, a hard ball of concern was permanently lodged in her midriff.

  Trinity checked her watch and pushed her cookies n’ cream ice cream over to Payton. She usually finished Trinity’s leftovers and to Mandy and Trinity’s disgust she then never had trouble fitting into her jeans. But this time she couldn’t even finish her own serving.

  “Yes, okay,” Trinity said as she stood, “go with caramel highlights but only subtle ones.” She pulled her fitted jacket over the waist of her charcoal-grey pencil skirt. “I’ve got to run. My next appointment is in fifteen minutes. But I’ll be right to come shopping for a dress in my lunch break.”

  “Good luck,” she said as she hugged Payton, whispering in her ear, “subtle caramel highlights, okay?”

  Payton waved as Trinity then headed toward her speech pathologist office across town at the east end of Bramble Lane in time for her next small client.

  Mandy picked up her mocha toffee ice cream and as she ate her gaze remained fixed on Payton’s unruly, over-long hair.

  Payton shifted on the park bench. “No pixie cut, remember?”

  Mandy’s gleeful smile failed to offer any reassurance. “But otherwise anything else is fine?”

  She sighed. “Do your worst.”

  *

  What felt like a lifetime later, Payton prized herself out of the hair salon chair and dutifully followed Mandy over to where Trinity sat flicking through a thick magazine. Trinity sprang to her feet, her smile wide.

  “Look at you, Pay. Cordell doesn’t stand a chance.” She touched the glossy, loose curls that fell onto Payton’s right shoulder. “Mandy, you are genius.”

  Mandy gave a small bow. “Thank you.” She smoothed away a lock of hair that had fallen onto Payton’s forehead. “It does help having such a beautiful blank canvas to work with.”

  Heat filled Payton’s cheeks. “Thanks but this is all your work, Mandy. Come tomorrow and you’ll be seeing the real Payton again.”

  Mandy winked. “After what I’ve done to your hair I guarantee we won’t be seeing you or Cordell for days.”

  She chewed on her lip. She could only hope so.

  Mandy frowned. “Payton …”

  Payton released her lip. “Sorry. I know you told me not to do that. I’ll ruin my lipstick.”

  Trinity grinned. “Nice make-up job, too, Mandy. Not too heavy but just enough. I never knew your eyes were so golden, Pay, or your lashes so long.”

  “That’s because,” Mandy said, “she has a record for applying all her make-up in under five minutes and she doesn’t ever blend.”

  Trinity’s brows lifted. “What are we going to do with you, Pay?”

  Payton linked arms with her best friends. “Take me shopping.”

  Trinity laughed. “Yes, that will do as we know how much you hate trying on clothes.”

  As they left the hair salon, Payton stopped and looked left along Main Street toward the Java Café. “Trinity, hadn’t we better get you something to eat before we shop? This is your lunch break.”

  “No, I’m right. I grabbed some yoghurt and fruit from the fridge at work before I left. Do you and Mandy want anything?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “I’m still full from the ice cream,” Mandy said, “that will teach me to get a large serving.”

  “So am I,” Payton lied, gazing past the café to where she could make out the sign for Marietta Western Wear in the next block.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Trinity scolded. “We’re shopping for a dress not for jeans and western shirts.”

  “This way,” Mandy said pulling Payton along to the boutique one store down from the hair salon.

  She walked through the doorway. A bell tingled, announcing their arrival. An elegant sales associate smiled as she looked up from the paperwork she was completing on the counter. The boutique smelt of jasmine and the soft music piped around the brightly lit store completed the impression of luxurious extravagance.

  Payton hesitated. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be splurging money on a dress? She still had her favorite boots to fix.

  Trinity gave her a little push from behind. “Pay, it’s my treat. You never let me buy anything for your birthday or Christmas and you are always baking me cookies or bringing me vegetables.”

  The sales clerk shuffled her paperwork together and beamed at them. “Anything I can help you with, ladies?”

  Mandy stepped forward. “Yes, please. We need a dress. And not just any dress. One that will make a cowboy’s jaw drop.”

  “Pay,” Trinity said softly from beside her, “it really is okay. Mandy has done your hair and make-up. Please let me do this for you.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “I know. I want to.”

  “Thank you”

  Trinity hugged her. “That’s what friends are for. Now let’s get shopping.”

  Payton’s head spun after the first two dresses were held up against her. After five, the colors and expensive fabrics all merged into a rainbow of chaos.

  “Too short. Too dowdy. Too sexy. Not sexy enough.”

  Mandy and Trinity’s words swirled around her in an ever-increasing crescendo of sound.

  She sank into the chair that would usually be reserved for long-suffering males lured into the boutique by a woman’s smile and bedroom promises. She was never going shopping again.

  Then she spied a white dress. Against the sea of color and movement it spoke of peace and simplicity. She came to her feet and collected the dress from the rack. Falling to above the knee with a nipped-in waist, the skirt featured a white lace overlay. She hesitated and then returned the dress to the rack. The bodice was far too plunging.

  Trinity whisked it off the rack. “Don’t you dare put this back. This is perfect.”

  Payton stopped herself from chewing on her lip. She recognized the resolute note in Trinity’s voice. When Trinity put her mind to something she usually got her way.

  “Trin, wearing your pink strapless dress to Eliza’s wedding just about killed me. It felt like it would slip off whenever I breathed. Who knows what Cordell got an eyeful of when I helped him with the calf? I just wouldn’t be comfortable wearing a dress that shows more than it hides.”

  Mandy nodded. “Even though I’m sure red-blooded Cordell wouldn’t mind an eyeful, let alone, the low bodice, I agree, it’s not who you are, Payton. But I do have a solution.” She went to a shelf and unfolded a white lace camisole. “You’d have something like this at home that you could wear underneath. It would have to have a touch of lace on it though to match the dress.”

  “Sorry, there’s no camisole, let alone any lace, in my closet.”

  Mandy groaned. “No lace at all?”

  “Nope.”

  “Poor Cordell. Next shopping trip we are not going to buy a dress.”

  Trinity held the white dress against Payton. “Try it on.”

  Payton glanced at the sales clerk who’d returned to her paperwork after it’d become obvious Payton had two enthusiastic fashion gurus helping her.

  She smiled. “Do try it on. Your friends are right, the lace camisole underneath will work really well.”

  Payton touched the soft lace of the overskirt. “The dress would look good with boots.”

  “No,” both Trinity and Mandy chorused.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Mandy, I’m not coming over to the dark side and wearing heels. Besides Cordell says his fantasy is boots not heels, anyway.”

  Trinity’s and Mandy’s eyes grew round.

  “Tell us more,” said Mandy, her voice slightly breathless.

  Payton chuckled. “And spoil the fun of your fertile imaginations? I don’t think so. But, I will try on the dress.”

  When she emerged long minutes later, she knew she’d found the right outfit. With the fitted camisole underneath, the plunging neckline wasn’t an issue. The dress was perfect. The fine weave of the fabri
c caressed her legs and she did a little twirl.

  Tears glistened in Mandy’s eyes. “Cordell won’t be able to leave.”

  Trinity nodded, her smile wistful. “It’s a wrap. That’s the one.”

  Payton hugged Trinity and then Mandy. “I expect to repay the secret weapon favor for each of you when the time is right.”

  “It’s a deal.” Mandy hugged her back. “Now go get your cowboy, Pay.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‡

  The butterflies making their home in her middle threatened to take flight as Payton saw Cordell’s pickup beside the barn.

  Just. Breathe.

  She parked her own truck in its usual position adjacent to the corral. Smoothing her hair like Mandy had showed her, she slicked her lips in the sweet-tasting pink gloss Mandy had slipped into her bag.

  She swallowed and opened the door. Her secret weapon had to work. If her plan failed, the days of knowing Cordell waited inside the ranch house for her, were numbered.

  But as she left her truck, she turned right instead of heading toward the front porch. From over near the horses she’d caught a flash of red plaid and denim. She walked around the barn and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she looked at the windmill. She kept her chin high to stop her tears falling.

  Not a day passed when she didn’t miss the infectious chuckle of her father’s laughter and the warmth of her mother’s gentle smile. But Cordell was right. Letting go of the control she clung to both empowered and made her stronger. Knowing that he would soon be there to help with an unconscious Henry had given her the extra strength she’d needed to hold off Trouble until Cordell and Mossy arrived. Just like her pioneering forebears, she didn’t have to fight every battle on her own. It wasn’t a sign of weakness to ask for, and accept, help.

  Her steps slowed. From the back, the cowboy talking to Mossy looked familiar but something was off. The man gazed across the valley and she glimpsed a profile that wasn’t Cordell’s.