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Sweet-Talking Cowboy

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by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Stephanie Bond




  Sweet-Talking Cowboy

  The Buckskin Brotherhood

  Vicki Lewis Thompson

  SWEET-TALKING COWBOY

  Copyright © 2020 by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  ISBN: 978-1-946759-82-5

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Ocean Dance Press, PO Box 69901, Oro Valley AZ 85737

  Cover art by Sylvia Frost

  Visit the author’s website: VickiLewisThompson.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  But Wait, There’s More!

  Also by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Some lucky guy had married Lucy Patterson today. Whoever he was, he’d found a gem. Matt Ramsey waited for the honeymooning couple at the Great Falls Airport arrival gate, the Buckskin Ranch welcome sign facing out.

  Lucy didn’t need it. The Pattersons had been coming here for years, but the sign was free advertising for the guest ranch. His boss, Henrietta Fox, understood the advantage of exposure. He also displayed magnetic ranch signs on both sides of his new truck.

  When Henri had mentioned that Lucy had booked a guest cottage and would be arriving with her husband on Valentine’s Day, he’d requested pickup duty. His last encounter with Lucy six years ago hadn’t gone well and her folks had shown up the following summer for their annual vacation without her. Supposedly she’d decided to get a jump on her course work for her sophomore year in college. He hadn’t bought it. She loved the Buckskin.

  More likely she’d been avoiding him. That stung, but if she’d found a great guy and was happy with her life, then he’d done the right thing. Despite the intervening years, their conversation on that sunny afternoon continued to haunt him.

  The monitor flashed the news that the plane had landed. For some reason, Lucy and her husband had switched to an earlier flight. Henri’s original info had specified that the wedding would happen at ten a.m. followed by a wedding brunch and a three-thirty departure to Great Falls.

  Maybe the time of the ceremony had changed. With luck, it would be a funny story. He wanted Lucy’s marriage to begin on a positive note.

  Passengers filed off the plane and he watched for her. How much had she changed? At nineteen, she’d been lithe and toned from yoga and volleyball. Hard to resist. But he’d done it.

  A brunette being carried along by the stream of passengers like a leaf in the current captured his attention. She wore a Seattle Mariners zip-up sweatshirt over a long white dress that brushed the ground as she walked. A wedding dress? Surely not.

  Then the woman looked at him and her blue eyes flashed with recognition. Picking up her voluminous skirts, she hurried in his direction. “Hi, Matt.”

  “Lucy?”

  “I know, I know. I’m a disaster. Let’s just get out of here.”

  ‘Where’s your husband?”

  “Fortunately, I don’t have one. I learned the truth about that lying piece of cow poop before it was too late. I just need the peaceful surroundings of the Buckskin.” Her voice trembled. “Once I have that, everything will be okay.”

  He resisted the urge to gather her into his arms. “Let’s go fetch your luggage.”

  “I left it at the church.”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t want it. I bought that stuff to wear on my honeymoon with Swamp Thing. Mom can donate it to charity.”

  “Lucy! You ran out on your wedding?”

  Her chin lifted and her eyes glittered. “Damn straight I did. Jumped in the limo, took off for Sea-Tac, got the last stand-by seat.” She’d given him that same look six years ago when she’d told him to go to hell.

  “Nobody came after you?”

  Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I sort of had a meltdown and screamed at them not to follow me.”

  “What about your folks? Won’t they be worried?”

  “I texted them from the limo and told them I was coming here and I’d explain later.”

  “Then your… fiancé… won’t be…”

  “If I never see that lying louse again I’ll be eternally grateful. Augghhh!!” She shook her hands in distress. When she glanced up, pain had replaced the defiance in her eyes. “Let’s just go.”

  “My truck’s in the garage.” Putting a hand at her waist, he guided her to the outside door. Then he caught her arm. “Wait. That sweatshirt isn’t enough.” He took off his jacket. “Put this on.”

  “No, you need it.”

  “The vest will do fine.”

  “It won’t. I—”

  “The sooner you put on my coat the sooner we’ll get out of here.”

  “All right.”

  He helped her into it and waited until she’d fastened the buttons. “Let’s go.” He rested a hand on her shoulder as they walked out of the terminal and across to the parking garage under an icy blue winter sky. She wasn’t married. She hadn’t found happiness, after all. What had those six years done to his Lucy?

  Not that she was his. Not by a long shot. But how had she guessed so wrong when choosing a husband? Then again, six years ago she’d wanted him. She’d only been nineteen, though. Who knew anything at that age?

  The parking garage wasn’t much warmer than the outside. He walked faster, eager to get them both out of the cold. She kept up.

  He’d invested in a four-door cab, a cowboy Cadillac. He’d justified the pricey purchase because he could pick up guests in it instead of using the ranch van, which he wasn’t fond of.

  Before coming here he’d pulled the truck into the tractor barn and washed it so he’d make a good impression on Lucy and her husband. What had the guy done? Something outrageous. Lucy hadn’t been into screaming six years ago.

  “That’s it, the black one over on the left.” Moving ahead of her, he opened the passenger door and helped her in. She wore sequined sneakers instead of heels. A Lucy move.

  “This is yours?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But it has a ranch sign on the door.”

  “Magnetic. We switch them to whatever we’re driving.” He closed the door and opened the rear one to grab the fleece blanket he kept there. He handed it into the front seat. “In case you’re still cold.”

  “I am.” She took the blanket. “My insides are frozen solid.”

  He blew out a breath. “Sorry to hear that.”

  Closing the door, he rounded the truck. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, she handed him his coat. “The blanket’s plenty. Please take this.”

  “I don’t�
��”

  “The sooner you take it the sooner we can leave.”

  “Right.” He got out, put on the jacket and got back in before laying his hat on the dash. The blower came on when he started the engine but the air was cold so he turned it down. The truck had been sitting a spell while he waited for her flight.

  “I’m glad you’re the one who picked me up.” She’d encased herself in the plaid blanket, maneuvering around the seatbelt so she could tuck herself into the fleece.

  “I requested the assignment.” He backed out of the parking space.

  “Why?”

  “Our last conversation wasn’t… great. I wanted to be able to tell you in person that I was happy for you.”

  Her laugh was bitter. “So much for that plan.”

  “Despite the circumstances, I’m glad to see you.” Putting it mildly. He’d missed those blue eyes. He’d missed her smile, too, but that might not make an appearance anytime soon.

  “I’m glad to see you, too. So many times I thought about contacting you about that afternoon, but I didn’t have your cell number or your email. Do you have an email address?”

  “I do.”

  “That seems incongruous for a cowboy.”

  “I know. A telegram seems so much more appropriate. Better yet, a telegram delivered by Pony Express.”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Just a little bit. Sorry. You’ve been through it. I shouldn’t—”

  “No, no, it’s good to joke around with you. Reminds me of old times. The past is very appealing right now.” She gazed out the window. “It all looks so familiar, except not, because of the snow and the bare tree branches. I’ve never been here in winter.”

  “Henri was surprised you chose the Buckskin for your honeymoon. Not that we don’t have activities this time of year, but—”

  “Activities weren’t my priority. I wanted to show…” She shuddered. “I wanted to show that stinking pile of dung my… favorite place in the world.”

  “It’s your absolute favorite?”

  “Well, duh. I started coming here with my folks when I was four. I used to wait all year for those two weeks at the Buckskin.”

  Guilt hit him hard. “And I ruined it for you.”

  “No I ruined it. I created a narrative about you and me that didn’t exist. You must have thought I was insane.”

  “Never that. Lucy, I—”

  “I should have known better. You saw me for two weeks a year and somehow I built that into a written-in-the-stars scenario. I was convinced that once I confessed my feelings, we’d be in each other’s arms.”

  We almost were.

  “For all I know you had a girlfriend.”

  “That wasn’t the—”

  “Even if you weren’t involved with anyone, how presumptuous of me to assume you felt the same?”

  “I never thought you were presumptuous. I was honored that you—”

  “So you said.” She leaned against the headrest, her hair tousled. “It was kind of you, but not what a girl wants to hear. Anyway, that’s water over the bridge, or under the dam, or whatever the saying is.” She glanced at him. “What’s new with you? Catch me up.”

  He’d rather hear about her situation, but maybe if he talked about himself a little, she’d be more willing to share. “The truck’s new.”

  “I thought so. It still has the new-car smell. When did you get it?”

  “End of the year sale. Sort of hated getting rid of Betsy, but she was only a two-door and she was showing her age. I couldn’t use her to chauffeur guests.”

  “I thought you guys drove the ranch van for pickups.”

  “We do, but I like taking my own rig if I can.”

  “It’s a very nice truck.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What else have you been up to?”

  “I bought a horse last winter, a stallion.”

  “A stallion? Aren’t they more temperamental?”

  “Oh, Thunderbolt’s a handful, but he’s fun to ride.”

  “Still seems like an impractical choice for guiding trail rides. I don’t—wait, I get it. You’re going to stand him at stud.”

  “I already have. His first foals will be born this summer.”

  “At the ranch?”

  “A couple of them. Henri volunteered Penny and Sassafras to see how he’d do. He was very well-mannered, so I put the word out, charged less than the standard fee and got five takers.”

  “That’s exciting. Where are you going with this?”

  “Eventually I want my own breeding operation. I’ve learned a lot from Henri, and Charley when he was alive. If I build the business gradually and don’t get impatient, I can make it work.”

  “Would you leave the Buckskin?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t go far. Ideally I’d only be a short horseback ride from Henri’s front porch.”

  “She’d appreciate that.”

  “So would I.”

  “Speaking of her, I hope she has some old clothes I can borrow for twenty-four hours until I go shopping.”

  “I’ll bet she will.” He let some time pass, kept his tone conversational. “Did I hear that you’re working for an L.A. ad agency?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her voice was tight.

  He’d touched a hot button but this subject was important to him. Her marriage was DOA but maybe she had a satisfying career doing work she loved. “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I did.”

  “You’ve quit?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He works there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yep.”

  “What made you run, Lucy?”

  She took a long, shaky breath. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Okay.”

  “At least not now. If you’d be willing to bring a couple of beers to my cabin after dinner, we could talk then.”

  “I could definitely do that.”

  “Then let’s plan on it.”

  Chapter Two

  A sight for sore eyes. Lucy’s great-aunt used to say that about her. She understood the phrase, now. Gazing at Matt’s square-jawed profile was better therapy than slices of cool cucumber. Her eye muscles relaxed and her lids no longer felt like sandpaper when she blinked.

  The past six years had been good to him. No wonder she’d had a crush as a teenager. He was great to look at and easy to talk to, qualities that made him the right choice to work at a guest ranch. Six years ago she’d misinterpreted his personable behavior as evidence of a deeper emotion. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Still, he liked her well enough that he’d asked to pick her up. They’d smoothed over any remaining awkwardness regarding her fevered declaration of love six years ago. Surely she wasn’t the only woman who’d ever done that.

  “Hey, Matt.”

  “Hm?”

  “By my calculations, you’ve worked at the Buckskin for eleven years.”

  “That’s exactly right. I hired on at seventeen, on February first.”

  “In that time, how many women have declared themselves madly in love with you? Please tell me I’m not the only one.”

  His cheek creased in a smile. “A gentleman doesn’t talk about such things.”

  “Aw, come on. I’ll feel way better knowing others have made a fool of themselves over you. How many?”

  “Let’s just say you weren’t the only one.”

  “So at least two. More than that?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “It’s usually harmless. An unattached lady is swept up in the fantasy and imagines herself in love with one of the wranglers.”

  “Your buddies have experienced this, too, then?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll bet not as often as you.”

  “Again, I’m not saying.”

  “What if the lady in question isn’t imagining she’s in love? What if it�
�s the real deal?”

  “Then it’s a matter of whether he has feelings for her, too. It’s been known to happen that they end up together, but that’s the exception.”

  “I don’t know if I feel better or worse. Being part of a syndrome isn’t flattering, either.”

  “You weren’t part of a syndrome. I’m talking about someone who comes for a week or two and fixates on one of the guys. In your case, it was five summers before you said anything. And… I hurt your feelings, so it wasn’t harmless. I regret that.”

  Learning he’d kept track of how long they’d known each other gave her ego a boost. “Please don’t take any of the blame for my hurt feelings. And I assure you I recovered.”

  “Then why didn’t you come back with your folks?”

  “All right, I didn’t recover immediately. I was embarrassed to see you the next summer so I stayed away. And the year after that I wasn’t living at home anymore. I’d moved down to SoCal to share an apartment with my girlfriend Bri…” She gasped as an emotional dagger sliced through her chest.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She sucked in air and the pain gradually faded. “I shouldn’t have scarfed down that sandwich before I got on the plane.”

  His frown said he didn’t believe that story.

  But he’d have to stay in the dark for now. She was in no shape to talk about Brianna. “So I was living in L.A., interning with the ad agency and finishing my degree. I didn’t have two weeks off in the summer. Then I went to work fulltime and I really didn’t have time to play.” She managed a smile. “I was adulting.”

  “That relieves my mind. I’d hate to think you stayed away for six years because of me.”

  “Definitely not because of you. And now that we’ve dissected my journey over the past six years, what about you? I assume you’re not married, but have you found someone special?”

 

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