To Love a Texas Cowboy

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To Love a Texas Cowboy Page 4

by Julie Benson


  Holy hell. The reality punched him hard in the gut, and sounded much worse when he thought of it in terms of years. The woman was more out of control than a bull penned up too close to a herd of cows, and about as destructive to his carefully ordered life. The last thing he needed was to feel something for her, but damned if that wasn’t what he was doing.

  Double damn.

  Despite all those common sense reasons, he couldn’t pull away. Not after she’d looked at him with her sad, leaf green eyes and admitted how scared she was. How alone. Something he’d never guessed. The woman hid her fears well under a good layer of bluster, humor and determined independence.

  While he stood there trying to decide what to do, Cassie stiffened and stepped away. Avoiding his gaze, she raked her hand through her short hair. “Well, that was embarrassing. I’m not usually such an emotional mess. Sorry for coming unglued, but you can relax. The pity party’s over.”

  Then she sprinted around the car and hopped in. The engine roared to life, and she drove away, while he stood there his body humming, strung tighter than a barbed wire fence, and wondering what the hell just happened.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and inhaled deeply. The familiar smells of a spring Texas night—grass, hay, tinged with the hint of wildflowers in bloom—filled his lungs and cleared his head.

  Forget about her and go on with your night. It’s better if you two don’t get cozy anyway.

  When Ty returned to the game room, Zane said, “Guess you forgot about talking to the waitress?”

  “I got a little sidetracked.” And now Ty realized he lacked the energy to pick up where he left of with Tiffani. How sad was that? He couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to talk to a woman who was ready and willing to go.

  “I’d be happy to let Cassie detour me any time.”

  “You let any half decent female do that,” AJ quipped.

  “Not any one. She has to be under forty and more than halfway good looking.” Zane turned toward him. “By the way, is Cassie off limits or can I call her?”

  “You’d do that after she shot you down twice already? Don’t you know how low the probability of success is?” Cooper said.

  Zane shrugged. “What can I say? I enjoy a challenge.”

  Ty shook his head. Yup. The circus was back in town and putting on a fine show. “To answer your question, yes, Cassie’s off limits.” Surprised at the bark in his tone, he cleared his throat and hoped no one noticed. “And why would you call her when you’re going back to California next week?”

  “That doesn’t mean we couldn’t have some fun before I leave and whenever I come back to visit the family.”

  “Leave it alone, Zane.” Ty rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease the knot there.

  “Is there a history between you two that we don’t know about?” AJ asked, pinning Ty with another questioning best friend stare.

  “Is that why she’s off limits?” Zane asked.

  Nice job Mr. Cool. Next time send up a flare. It would get less attention.

  They’d always done this, joked about women and given each other the third degree, but doing this with Cassie as the subject and seeing the gleam in Zane’s eyes when he asked about her rubbed Ty the wrong way. “Nothing’s up with us. She’s got enough to deal with right now. That’s all. The last thing she needs is Don Juan here chasing after her.”

  “I resent that.” Zane flashed him an irritated scowl.

  “Just stay away from Cassie. Since I’m handling Ella’s finances, I’ve got to work with her. When things end badly with you it’ll be awkward for me, and that’s the last thing I need.”

  Because things are all ready awkward enough. Worse yet the thought of you two together turns my stomach.

  “Who says things will end badly? We could have a good time, then go our separate ways and stay friends.”

  Before Zane even finished, the rest of them were close to doubled over laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  When the laughter died down, Ty said, “Why would I think a relationship between you and Cassie would get messy? Maybe because a six pack of beer lasts longer at a frat party than your relationships. Now I’m done talking about Cassie Reynolds. The next guy who mentions her buys the beer for the rest of the night.”

  *

  The next afternoon while Ella sat watching a video Cassie scooted into what had once been her sister’s office which she’d halfway converted into her studio and called Grace. “Why didn’t anyone tell us how hard life would be after college?” she asked after her friend answered.

  “If they’d told us the truth we’d have said forget the real world and stayed in college forever.” Grace paused. “Rough day?”

  “Rough night.” She rattled off an abbreviated version of last night’s events. “Ella’s got so much anger simmering below the surface. Not that I blame her after what she went through, but I never know what will set her off. Except having to go to school. Getting her there is a constant struggle. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Ty acted like he had all the answers. The man is so infuriatingly arrogant.”

  Except in the parking lot when she’d fallen apart. Then he’d been different, and if being in his arms hadn’t felt good she’d have been better off. Who was she kidding? Being in his arms had felt so beyond good.

  She still didn’t understand what happened between them. She’d been arguing with him, telling him to back off, how it wasn’t his place to deal with Ella’s behavior, and the next thing she knew she spilled her guts like an overly emotional teenager.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, Ty made everything worse by being sympathetic. If he’d been a know-it-all or lectured her about bucking up, she’d have handled that. Instead he’d been human and real.

  But no way was she sharing those details with Grace. Not when she was trying to forget.

  “I couldn’t believe he picked Ella up and hauled her out of the restaurant,” she continued. “Where does he get off thinking he has the right to do that?”

  Jack asked me to watch out for his daughter.

  “He can’t be all bad,” Grace said. “He has to have some good qualities. Chloe wouldn’t have tried to set you up with a total jerk.”

  Over the years, Chloe had repeatedly rattled off Ty’s virtues, insisting he would be a “perfect” match for Cassie. He was stable, hard working with a good head for finance all rolled up in an appealing rugged cowboy he-man package.

  Perfect. That word rubbed Cassie the wrong way. Probably because she never remembered anyone using a word remotely resembling perfect in conjunction with her name.

  Cassandra Michelle, you need to focus to get good grades. Look at Chloe. She’s the perfect example of a star student with excellent work habits.

  “I knew raising a child was tough, but this?” Cassie said. “There aren’t words to describe how hard this is.”

  The Beatles had it wrong. Love wasn’t all you need. Kids needed so much more. They needed structure, stability, and someone who remembered silly things such as they needed three meals a day, not a person who got lost in her artwork and forgot to eat after breakfast. Kids required a parent to turn to with words of wisdom to impart. Lord, that so wasn’t her.

  “It’s only been a month since the plane crash. Things will get better.” While Grace’s voice rang with certainty, it failed to convince Cassie.

  A month. Such a short time in life’s scheme, and yet long enough for everything to change. Already she found it hard for her to remember life before the call, but the details of the day she received the news was a different story. Those were etched on her heart. She’d been working on a piece for the Van Hooser’s newly remodeled dining room on a sunny Tuesday morning when her phone rang. At eleven forty-two a robotic monotone voice said her sister, brother-in-law, and niece’s plane had crashed on take off from Orlando. Chloe and Jack were dead, but Ella had survived.

  “Can I have the it’s-going-to-get-better promise in writing?” Cassie clutched her
phone tighter. “Time and patience. That’s what Ella’s therapist keeps saying. I have plenty of the first, but the second one’s giving me trouble. I don’t know how Chloe juggled everything. She was a great mom, volunteered at Ella’s school, ran the inn and had time for Jack, all while looking as if she stepped off the cover of Cosmo. I don’t get half as much done, and look like I’m the poster child for the Do’s and Don’t column. I keep expecting to see one of those black strips covering my eyes when I look in the mirror.”

  “Cut yourself some slack. Focus on what you have accomplished. I’m amazed you’re able to paint at all, much less complete your commissioned work on time.”

  Ah, yes. Creativity on demand. Squeezing work in during school hours whether the muse was with her or not. Yet another new facet of her life.

  “I should finish the last one later today.”

  “Great. That means you’ll get a check. That’s always a good thing,” Grace said, drawing Cassie’s focus back to their conversation.

  “You must’ve missed the last one part. As in last check, and unfortunately, it’ll have to go to the website designer for revamping my site to gear up for online sales.”

  “The old you have to spend money to make money gets us every time, but it’ll be worth it. Thanks to me you’ve got a good solid business plan in place. It’ll take time, but hopefully the transition won’t be too bad.”

  Cassie smiled. What a business geek, but thank God for that. If she’d had to pay for what Grace had done for her? Well, she wouldn’t have been able to. They’d spent hours on the phone and online developing a business strategy to add online sales to take advantage of the career momentum she’d generated before moving while working to build a new regional clientele. Not only that, but without Grace talking her off the ledge multiple times, she never would’ve been able to cope. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re really the only one I can count on.” Cassie bit her lip to control her emotions. If she started crying now, she might never stop. To lighten the mood, she said, “Now if you were a real friend, you’d convince your boss to buy a bed and breakfast in East Texas to diversify.”

  “You’re selling the inn?”

  “I may have to.” She told Grace about her financial discussion with Ty a week or so ago. He’d shown up at her door and when she couldn’t get rid of him, they’d sat in her sister’s living room, Ty all stiff and unyielding as he’d painted her bleak financial picture. On top of the stack of papers he’d handed her was a spreadsheet showing her expenses and income, including what she could expect to earn from the inn. Until then she’d be able to pretend her situation wasn’t as bad as she imagined, but there was no ignoring the stark reality in bright red ink at the bottom of the paper. “On a good month I might sell enough art to meet expenses, but on a consistent basis? No way.”

  “Talk to Ty about your concerns. He’s Ella’s trustee. It’s his job to help you with things like this.”

  Talk to Mr. Perfect? The guy who had a family business handed to him? “You don’t know what it’s like here. No matter where I go in town everyone sings his praises. Plus, he treats me like I’m a major annoyance, and that’s on a good day. Admitting I can’t earn enough to keep the roof over my niece’s head and asking him for help would be fun.”

  “He might surprise you. Didn’t you say he was a big help with the funeral arrangements?”

  “It wasn’t so much help as it was taking over. I think that’s a pattern with him.”

  “You need to find a way to get along with Ty. Not only for your sanity, but it’ll make life a lot easier.”

  “Whose side are you on? You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to be agreeing with me, saying I’m right and he’s a terrible pain in the ass. That’s part of the best friend code.”

  “Sorry. How could I have forgotten that?” Graced teased. “You’re right, he’s awful. Keep fighting the good fight. After all, you only have to work with him until Ella’s eighteen.”

  “Thanks. That’s so much better.” Cassie rested her head on the smooth oak surface of her sister’s roll top desk and groaned. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can. You’re a tough, competent woman with a multitude of skills to draw on,” Grace insisted, her voice full of genuine confidence. “After all, you’ve created a career in the art world. How many people can say that? Getting there took persistence and determination. You’ve grown that career into one you can live on. That took planning and follow through.”

  “So if I’ve got all those skills why am I having such a tough time?”

  “I said you can do it. I didn’t say it would be easy or instantaneous. It’s going to take—”

  “I know. Time and patience. I’m starting to hate those two words.”

  *

  Later that afternoon as Cassie and Ella headed for Ty’s ranch on the deserted two lane state highway that circled Hope Lake, Grace’s words hammered in her head. You need to find a way to get along with Ty. Not only for your sanity, but it’ll make life a lot easier. Damn, she hated it when Grace was right.

  Cassie glanced in the rearview mirror at her niece. Dressed in her best cowgirl jeans, boots, and a pink snap-front shirt, her eyes glowed with excitement. Getting along with Ty would also be best for Ella.

  When she reached the Bar 7, she found the maroon iron gate to the driveway shut. Huffing and thinking he could’ve at least opened the gate, she crawled out of her car. She struggled to open the gate, pinching her fingers twice, but then managed to shove the heavy thing open.

  As she drove on the side-by-side ruts serving as a driveway, she vowed to make nice with Ty, no matter how much the cowboy annoyed her. When she and Ella reached the front door of the simple, white brick ranch house she saw a note scrawled in broad, dark print. Strong, assertive and to the point. In the barn. The note wasn’t signed, not that it needed to be.

  “Appears we’re to meet them in the barn.” They turned and headed for the big red structure, an exact replica of ones she’d seen in every farm painting. When a person had seen one, she’d pretty much seen all there was to see. Sure there was slightly different flora and fauna, but other than that? Pretty much everything else was the same. She didn’t understand the fascination with capturing rural America. Give her the powerful buildings in urban America whose architecture spoke volumes and held a character all their own.

  When Cassie stepped into the barn dust sparkled in the sunlight like bits of glitter. The soft sound of horses nickering floated toward her. This wasn’t too bad. But as that thought entered her mind, the pungent tang of hay and horse manure wafted over her and she wrinkled her nose. People complained about big city air pollution, but what about this? Why would anyone pay good money to play cowboy and experience this?

  Ty walked out of a stall, frowned and nodded toward her skirt, “Obviously you didn’t get my message.”

  So much for the compassion he’d shown at The Horseshoe Grill. Good. This attitude she could deal with. “Most people start a conversation with hello. Let me show you how it goes. I’ll start. Hello, Ty. How are you this afternoon? Now you respond. I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s good to see you, too.”

  He smiled and crossed his arms over his broad chest. His biceps flexed with the movement. “All that? How about I just say I’m fine. How about you?”

  “I guess that’ll do. I wouldn’t want you to use too many of your seven thousand words for the day at one time.” At his blank stare, she continued. “Studies say men only speak about seven thousand words a day while women use around twenty thousand.”

  “With as much as you talk, I bet you shoot the hell out of the curve.”

  Between the grin, the twinkle in his eyes, and the great muscles, Cassie found herself momentarily tongue-tied. Then the fact that he’d actually made a joke sank in. Maybe the man possessed a sense of humor after all. “That’s a good one.” She laughed and tried to focus on what they’d been talking about before she started rambling. The message she hadn
’t received. “What message? I have a bad habit of setting my phone down and forgetting to pick it up when I leave the house.” She dug around in her purse. “Nope, it’s not here. Is there a problem?”

  “Aubrey had a job interview, but she should be back soon. She’ll meet us on the trail.”

  A reprieve. Maybe they wouldn’t talk business after all. The tightness in her chest eased. “So I get to go riding after all?”

  He nodded toward her skirt. “You’re not exactly dressed for riding. Ella and I will wait while you go home and change into jeans.”

  “No need. I think Ella would explode if she had to wait much longer. Right?” Ella nodded and pointed toward the stalls. “Hang on. I can fix the problem in a flash.”

  Cassie grabbed the back edge of her skirt, pulled it forward over the front and tucked it into the leather belt at her waist. Hands on her hips, she grinned at Ty. “There. Instant gauchos perfect for riding.”

  Ty stared at her, his eyes wide, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

  She glanced down at her skirt, wondering what she’d missed. Was her underwear showing? Nope. As far as she could see nothing showed that shouldn’t. “What’s the problem? Do I look that bad, or what?”

  Ty snapped his jaw shut. “You look fine. I’ve got to give you points for ingenuity.” He turned Ella. “You do look like you’re about to bust. I told Crunchie you were coming and he got pretty excited, too.”

  Ella was excited, but not enough to talk. Patience. Baby steps would have to be enough, but they’d get there. Cassie grabbed her niece’s hand. “Lead the way.”

  Once they reached the stall, the pony stood waiting by the barred window. Ella reached out and rubbed the animal’s forehead. Crunchie nudged the child’s hand.

  “He’s acting like he’s expecting something,” Cassie said.

  Ella turned to Cassie, her eyes wide. Her lip trembled and her shoulders drooped.

 

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