Cowboys Can’t Lie (A Lily’s House Novella)

by Rachel Branton

  His eyes roamed her face. He was more attractive this close—rugged, strong, determined. A man who might be real enough to stick around.

  Stop, she told herself. She wasn’t here for a romantic connection. If she wanted romance, she’d accept a date from one of the dozen guys she worked with. She only didn’t because she knew too well from observation that they’d lose interest and chase after some pencil in a skirt the minute they grew bored.

  Crew’s look intensified. Time stretched between them, seeming almost to stop. Tara wanted desperately to flee, but she stood her ground, meeting his gaze, lifting her chin slightly in challenge.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “Pending approval of my stable manager, I’ll let the girls come, but they have to do at least ten hours a week on a regular schedule. Twenty would be better. Since it’s summer and all.”

  Relief flooded Tara. She couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. She’d succeeded!

  “But I do have one condition,” he added, his dark eyes glinting.

  Her hopes plummeted. “And that is?” She hoped he didn’t want her to accompany the girls because her marketing job already required fifty or sixty hours a week, and volunteering at Lily’s took up the rest of her days. Yet at the same time, having him ask for her company would be flattering and a little bit exciting.

  “For every week they’re here, you’ll spend two hours updating our social media pages.” A mocking grin filled his face, and she had the distinct feeling he was toying with her.

  Two hours? Well, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t carve out that much time. She’d have to cut back on helping out at Lily’s House, or her sleep, or maybe stand up to her boss about the unpaid overtime, but the exchange for the girls would be worth it.

  “Deal,” she said before he could change his mind. She proffered a hand to seal the agreement—didn’t cowboys always shake on things? He took her hand and the sensation she’d experienced earlier infused her once again.

  Totally my imagination, she thought. But he was watching her, his expression shuttered. For several heartbeats he didn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t pull away. Finally, as if by mutual agreement, their hands dropped.

  I do not like cowboys, Tara reminded herself again. She’d say it a million times if she had to. The truth was, his being a cowboy didn’t make her leery, it was her reaction to him she distrusted. That was easily solved, though. She absolutely wouldn’t go out with him, even if he asked. Not that he would ask, but now she didn’t have to worry about it. She felt relief in making the decision.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Go?” The way he’d spoken didn’t sound like he meant for her to leave. Besides, they still had to discuss what time the girls would come.

  His left eyebrow angled up in that same incredibly attractive way she’d noted before. “I’m sure you’d like to learn what I plan to have the girls do. And if you’re going to be posting about my ranch, you need a tour to cover the basics.”

  Was he serious? She was wearing a suit, for crying out loud, one with a skirt. And her heels had already shown they were a problem. She looked at her feet, and lifted one heel. “Maybe I can come back with the girls.”

  “Not a problem. Wait right here.” Going around the other side of the desk, he disappeared through an inner door.

  She shook her head, unable to guess at his meaning. As she glanced around the room, wishing he’d been more clear, her gaze snagged on a painting of an older couple behind his desk. His parents maybe? Or grandparents? She stepped closer for further investigation. The man looked like an older version of Crew.

  “My grandparents,” Crew said, startling her.

  She turned around to see that he was carrying a pair of bright blue cowboy boots. “You gotta be kidding,” she said before she could stop herself. No way was she putting on those ridiculous things.

  He gave her a slow smile that made her heart do a little dance. “Why not? They match your suit. I brought socks too.”

  He held out both the boots and socks, a challenge in his eyes. But it was the amusement she also saw there that made her take them from his hands. She sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk and traded her black heels for the boots. To her surprise, the leather, while not exactly soft, was pliable. They were only the slightest bit too large.

  She looked up to see him staring at her, an odd expression on his handsome face—lost, maybe. Definitely sad. Both of these emotions she understood too well. Who did these boots belong to that seeing her in them brought that look to his face?

  Chapter 2

  Crew dragged his attention from the boots, forcing a smile as he offered Tara his hand. “Shall we?”

  “Sure.”

  Her hand was soft in his rough one, and it called up a yearning inside him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Even before Dervin King showed up three years ago and started High Vista Farm with his rich daddy’s money, there had been no time in his life for anything but work. The struggle to hold onto what his grandfather had built, and what his father had almost destroyed, was constant. Another year should tell if the Silver A Ranch’s fifty-year legacy would continue or if he’d have to close down the stables altogether, sell some land, and cut his cattle business in half. Crew wouldn’t make the decision lightly since he had employees, most of them extended family, that depended on him for a living.

  Whatever happened, he wouldn’t sell Iron Express to High Vista and consign him to a life of continuous forced breeding. Thanks to his father, Dervin already had Jump Start. Sophie had never forgiven him for not being able to prevent that.

  “Where are we going?” Tara asked as they left the office.

  He liked the flavor of her voice, deeper than most women but soft like silk. He liked even more the blue eyes and the unruly black mane that reminded him of his best show mares. “First the stables where you found me. Are the boots okay?”

  “Yes, thank you. Is that where you keep the horses you train?” She kept up with him easily, which was surprising since his employees were always telling him he walked too fast. To be sure, she wasn’t a wisp of a girl like so many women these days, and he found his eyes drawn to her womanly curves in that blue suit more than he wanted to admit.

  “It’s for those we board, as well as holding stalls for those that come here only for training. We call it the training stables among ourselves, but it’s really the only stables anyone else sees, which is why it’s closest to the training fields and the parking lot. Of course, we don’t train all the horses we board. Some of their owners do that on their own. We also have separate facilities for our workhorses, brood mares, mares with foals, and yearlings. Keeping them separate limits diseases.”

  He walked her through the corridor of the barn and was pleased when several of the horses came to investigate, putting their long faces over their stall doors. Tara stopped to pet one of them, her hand running over the mare’s black coat.

  “She’s beautiful,” she murmured, laughing when the horse nuzzled her face.

  “So, you’re not afraid of horses.”

  She smiled. “I’ve ridden before. Actually, quite a lot in my teens. Though nothing as expensive as I bet this horse is.”

  “Her sire is Iron Express, and just the stud fee to create her was seventy thousand, so I’d say she’s one of the most expensive kind.”

  She whistled. “I had no idea they cost so much. Thank you again for letting the girls come.”

  The last thing he needed was to spend time teaching two rebellious teenage girls how to take care of horses, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t turn them away. Because Sophie was somewhere out there, and he’d want someone to help her, if she reached out to anyone.

  “We’ll work them hard,” he warned. “Everyone here works hard. They may not like it.”

  Tara laughed. “That’s perfect. There’s only one thing that Lily gives out more than chores to the girls, and that’s love.” Again the melancholy expression he’d ca
ught earlier on her face. This beautiful, incredibly sexy woman had a connection to Lily’s House that he didn’t yet understand. But he intended to. She was interesting and determined, a combination he found irresistible.

  “We have about ten stalls open at the moment,” he said, trying not to let the anger his admission caused show in his voice. One more thing that his father and High Vista were responsible for. While the Silver A had never depended on the horse training side of the business for its main income, it had always turned a profit until his father took his shares and went into business with High Vista. With the losses in Crew’s cattle at the same time, things had been difficult these past three years.

  Too bad this woman’s social media ideas wouldn’t be helpful. His horse clients didn’t care about cute memes or posts about giraffes, whatever she thought. They came here only because of Iron Express’s reputation and the trainers he’d hired. All Crew wanted to focus on now was rebuilding so he could keep the horses.

  Because when Sophie returned—if she returned—he wanted the Thoroughbreds here for her.

  “The girls will start out working with our mares and foals and yearlings,” he said. “Mostly those intended to be workhorses. If they do well, I’ll move them to helping out here, feeding and exercising the animals whose owners don’t come in daily to do that themselves. Of course, I can’t have them riding the horses until they’re certified, but they can lead them around.”

  “I can understand that. In fact, knowing how expensive these horses are, I think I’d feel better if they only helped out with your workhorses. No wonder even the smaller stables turned me down. Their Thoroughbreds might not be as prestigious as yours, but I’m betting they still cost a lot of money.”

  He laughed at her grimace. She had the kind of face that showed her emotion, and he found her honesty refreshing. “We’ll make sure the girls learn what they need to work with all the horses. In the meantime, we have plenty of foals here for the girls to love and spend time with, both workhorses and Thoroughbreds. We like to have them handled as much as possible so they grow up to be friendly.”

  “I’d love to see the foals.”

  Her smile sent sunshine into him. Her eyes had taken on a darker blue inside the barn, closer to the color of her suit. He found it hard to look away. “Come on, then, I’ll show you.”

  “Are we walking or driving?” she asked.

  He should take his truck, because he had a million things he needed to do and time was always important. But he wanted to walk across the fields with her, especially now that she’d gotten rid of those ridiculous high heels, even if the boots did cover up her attractive calves. “Walking, if you don’t mind.”

  Her hands went to the buttons of her suit coat. “I’ll have to leave this in my car then. It’s a little hot out.”

  Blistering, in fact. “We can drive, if you prefer.” He watched as she finished undoing the buttons and slipped off the jacket. Underneath was a silky black tank that made his throat turn dry.

  “Walking’s fine. I don’t have any other place to be. I took the day off work.”

  When was the last time he’d taken a day off? He couldn’t remember. Well, he’d gone for drinks with some of the hands a couple weeks ago. He’d been so busy saving the ranch that nothing else mattered.

  Except for Sophie, of course. Maybe it was time to hire an investigator to look for her. Maybe enough time had passed that she would listen to him.

  “There’s an office here at the stable where we can leave your jacket,” he said. “It’s my stable manager’s but he won’t mind.”

  They left the jacket in the deserted office and started down a cement walkway that soon gave way to a narrow, grass-covered road that meandered through the fields. “The boots still okay?” he asked after a moment.

  She laughed, revealing a dimple on her right cheek that hadn’t appeared during the initial stiffness between them. “Yeah. They’re actually comfortable.” She looked like she wanted to say something more about the boots, but she didn’t.

  They left the training areas behind them and reached a field the boarding horses used for exercise and grazing. “It’s beautiful,” Tara said, admiring the land that wasn’t yet seared from the summer heat. “How long has your family lived here?”

  “My great-grandfather bought most of this land almost a hundred years ago, but his father also herded cattle here before that. We’ve worked hard to preserve the natural vegetation that tends to be less dependent on water.”

  “Seems pretty green. I mean, for Arizona.”

  “Well, it’s only June. But we have water rights and wells, so we keep a close eye on what’s going on in the pastures. We also have a contract for grazing on federal land, which helps.”

  They walked a few more minutes in silence, and he found himself thinking of things to say that might bring back her smile and that dimple.

  “It’s summer, so do you have any preferred hours?” she asked as they approached a field with two Thoroughbred mares and their foals. “One of the girls is seventeen, so she’ll be driving them both in Lily’s van. But in the fall, they’ll have school, of course.”

  He didn’t miss the indication that she hoped they’d continue after school started. They’d better stay at least that long if he invested the time in them. That made him brood—what was he doing getting himself into this?

  “Oh, look at that!” Tara was gazing into the field they’d reached, where two black Thoroughbred foals were chasing each other around, jumping awkwardly into the air. “They’re beautiful. Their mothers too.”

  “They should be. They’ve got a pedigree as long as my arm.” Both the foals had been sired by Iron Express, but the gray mare’s sire was Jump Start, and her foal looked remarkably like Jump Start had at the same age. For three years, he’d bred this gray mare, hoping for this foal and finally, here he was. Her two other foals had been fillies.

  “I take it these aren’t the workhorses.”

  “No, those are in the next field. These mares are Thoroughbreds. Most of the Thoroughbred breeding we do is with outside mares, and their owners take them home after, but the foals are fun to have around, so we birth some every year and sell them after they’re weaned. Helps pay for their upkeep. I’d take you to meet them if you weren’t wearing a skirt. The gate is over by that little barn. But let’s see if they come over when I call.”

  In answer, she stepped up on the rail of the fence and boosted herself up until she was sitting on the fence. Then, angling away from him, she pulled her legs up together, swinging them over. “Easy.”

  A deep chuckle filled his chest. “Okay then.”

  She smirked. “I do well with challenges.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He climbed over himself, whistling to the mares. One of them whinnied, and both came galloping over, their foals following awkwardly. He wished he’d thought to grab a carrot to let Tara give them a treat.

  “I’ve never seen that color before,” she said, watching the gray mare. “She’s silver, or something.”

  “She’s called a gray, and what that means is her skin is black and her coat mostly white. They often change color with their age, graying more. She always has gray offspring, so though her foal is black now, he’ll eventually start turning gray, maybe at a year.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  The mares had reached them now, both ignoring Tara and extending their noses to him. He ran his hands over both of them at the same time. The chestnut horse was shyer than the gray, but both were docile and affectionate creatures.

  One of the foals miscalculated his steps and bumped into Tara. “Oh, it’s adorable,” she said.

  “That one’s a filly. Name’s Iron Queen. She’s already sold but will be here until she weans. We’re never in a hurry for that here, so it’ll be a few more months.”

  “And the other?”

  “He’s the gray—or will be. Doesn’t have an official name yet, but I call him JS Junior, for short, after hi
s grandsire. He’ll get another name once he has an owner.” Crew wouldn’t be selling him, though she didn’t have to know that.

  “Nice. They’re so friendly.”

  “We work hard on imprinting directly after their birth. And they’re handled every day.”

  “Big investment of time.”

  He smiled. “A lot like the girls at your Lily’s House, I imagine.”

  She tilted her head upwards to look at him, her hair shining in the sun. “Yes. And worth every bit. Thank you for doing this.”

  “You’re welcome.” Time froze between them. Crew would give almost anything to lean over and kiss her. The thought pulled him up short. What was he thinking? She was only at the ranch for a favor, and kissing her would be totally inappropriate.

  Still, she didn’t wear a wedding ring, and she didn’t seem in an awful hurry to leave.

  They fondled the colts for a while until they wandered off, chasing each other again. Tara took out her phone from some hidden pocket and began to snap photographs. Crew stared after the colts. If Sophie could see them now. He looked up to find Tara snapping a picture of him.

  When he started to protest, she smiled—without the dimple this time—and said, “It’s for Facebook.”

  “Oh, right.” He gave a farewell rub to each of the mares and started back to the fence. They’d barely jumped it when his phone rang. It was Isaac Kelley, his cousin on his mother’s side, and his ranch manager.

  “Hey, Isaac, what’s up?” He hoped it wasn’t anything bad. Isaac was twenty years older than he was and had been part of the ranch since before he’d been born, so the fact that Isaac was calling him when he was out with the cows meant something couldn’t wait.

  “I’m sending you a picture,” Isaac said. “Lookee what I found.”

  “Just a minute.” Crew pulled up the picture of Isaac with a newborn calf in his arms. Through the phone, he could hear a cow bawling, obviously angry at the separation from her baby. He put his phone back to his ear. “They’ve started calving then.”