A Cowboy Summer (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  ZOEY WOKE UP so excited she felt as if her body might jump outside her skin and run away. But the echo of warnings from nurses and doctors and her mother cautioned her to take deep belly breaths and move slowly. Well, as slowly as possible. Today was going to be her first ever trail ride. How could a person not get a little breathless over that?

  She quickly put on her favorite Britney Spears T-shirt and a long-sleeved shirt for layers and sun protection, along with her boots, jeans and hat. Although, knowing her mother, she’d probably have to wear the dorky riding helmet instead. Her toothbrush touched a couple of teeth and she swallowed the mint-flavored gritty toothpaste to save a step. No need to comb her hair. It was going to get messed up anyway.

  As she passed through her mother’s room, she paused to look around. Joy’s overnight bag was gone and the bed was made, but there was no indication her mother had been back to hang up her dress and change. That was odd. Was she sleeping in?

  Naw, Zoey thought. Her mother never overslept.

  She unlocked the door and dashed to the stairs. The smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls filled the air. She was glad she wasn’t allergic to cinnamon. It was one of her favorite smells, second only to horse.

  She trotted down the steps, pretending she was a high-stepping prancer, like the Tennessee Walkers that Will had pointed out in a book on horse breeds in her grandfather’s library. Zoey thought they were too elegant for words, but a bit too prissy to live in the mountains. For pure love of life, she favored Arabians. Like Tulip, the horse she would be riding today.

  Giving a whinny, Zoey tossed her pretend mane and galloped toward the kitchen.

  “Hi, Will,” she cried, delighted to see her favorite cowboy perched on a stool near the phone. “How was the party?”

  He’d apparently been searching for something in the phone book, but it must not have been important because he closed the cover and held out his arms. “Good morning, Miss Z,” he said, giving her a wonderful squeeze that left her happy and sad at the same time. This whole summer had been like that. It was the best one of her whole life, but it was going to end. She couldn’t think about September without her chest hurting, so she asked, “When are we leaving on our trail ride?”

  “Right after lunch.”

  “What?” She jumped back. “But what about our picnic?”

  “Sorry, sweetness, we’re going to have to postpone it. One of our incoming guests missed his connection and won’t be arriving until ten. I need to go to the airport to pick him up. That won’t leave us enough time to do both, but we can still take a short ride after lunch.”

  “Couldn’t somebody else get him? What about Mommy?” Zoey looked around, but the only other person in the room was Joy, who was measuring flour into a big bowl. Where was her mother? She was always around at this time of day, pouring coffee, chatting with guests and making sure everyone was happy.

  From the volume of voices in the adjoining room, their guests were enjoying their breakfast, but Zoey had yet to hear her mother’s distinctive accent.

  Will made a funny face, as if he had a stitch in his side, and stood up. He put the phone book back under the counter then stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “I haven’t seen your mom this morning. We had a late night. Maybe she’s still sleeping.”

  Something wasn’t right. First of all, her mother didn’t sleep in. Ever. Second, Will was acting weird. Like maybe he didn’t want to see Mom. Oh, no, Zoey thought. Did that mean they had a fight? She could remember some of her parents’ fights. No loud voices to upset her, but cold looks and mean-sounding words.

  “Are you mad at her for something?” she asked Will.

  His mouth opened and closed twice before he said, “No, sweetheart, I’m just trying to juggle business stuff and I’m used to having your mom here to do it. She’s good at it. I’m not.”

  That sounded truthful. Zoey rushed to him and threw her arms around his waist. “Sure you are, Will. You’re the best. And don’t feel bad about the trail ride. We can try a longer ride another time. Maybe for my birthday.”

  It never hurt to lay the groundwork for presents far in advance.

  “When is—”

  Before he could ask his question, a person stumbled into the kitchen. Zoey had to look twice to make sure it was her mother. Mom wore her usual cotton pajamas, but they were rumpled and one leg was hiked up at the knee. Barefoot, no robe, and hair as messy as some of the big kids’ at Zoey’s school, she stood frozen, her eyes blinking at the brightness.

  “Mommy?”

  Mom looked from Zoey to the clock to Will. Her cheeks got red and she turned so fast her heel made a squeaking sound on the floor. “I overslept,” she shouted. “I’ll be right back down. Don’t leave without me. I’m going on that trail ride, too.”

  “What?” Will and Zoey both squawked in shock.

  There was no answer because Mom had disappeared. Joy left the room, returning a few seconds later with a travel mug that she handed to Will. “You’d better hit the road. Sooner you pick up our guest, the sooner you can lead Annie Oakley and the others on their trail ride.”

  Annie Oakley. That was a good one, Zoey thought, covering her mouth to hide a snicker. She couldn’t wait to tell it to Tressa. Not that there was any chance Mom actually intended to ride a horse. “Maybe Mommy plans on driving the truck alongside us or something,” she said.

  The look Will gave her said he was as baffled as anyone. For some reason, that made Zoey nervous all over again.

  He took the cup from Joy but stared at it almost a minute before turning to leave. “Would you please remind Anne that cabins three and six are checking out, and the new people are due in this afternoon by car.” Then he left.

  Zoey was about to go find her mom when the back door burst open and Tressa charged in. Linda, Tressa’s mother, followed—a lot more slowly. Linda didn’t take her sunglasses off and she moved as if her head hurt.

  “Coffee?” she asked, making a weak wave at Joy.

  “There’s a new batch brewing. If you don’t want to wait, you’ll have to get it from the thermos in there,” Joy said, pointing toward the dining room. Her voice sounded even louder than usual, and Linda made a funny face before disappearing into the next room.

  Tressa ran to Zoey. “Hey. We just saw Will at the mailboxes and he told us the ride was pos’poned. Can we go upstairs and play Barbies?”

  “Not till you get some food in your tummies, girls,” Joy said sternly.

  Zoey liked Joy. Not only did their names sorta rhyme, but she was good at giving orders in a way that didn’t make Zoey huffy. When her mom asked Zoey to do something, Zoey’s first inclination was to argue. She never argued with Joy. “Got any oatmeal?”

  “Yep. With raisins and cinnamon. Just the way you like it.”

  Before this summer, Zoey had believed that oatmeal only came in little packages that you mixed with water and heated in the microwave. Joy bought big bags of oats that kinda looked like horse food then cooked it on the stove with warm milk and plump, chewy raisins.

  “Yuck,” Tressa said. “I hate oatmeal. We had jelly rolls from the bakery. I’m full.”

  “Tress, don’t be impolite,” her mother scolded, returning with a big, steaming mug. “If you don’t want something that’s offered to you, simply say, ‘No, thank you.’”

  “No, thank you,” Tressa said with a heavy sigh.

  Joy set a bowl on the counter. The smell of cinnamon made Zoey’s mouth water. “No problem,” Joy said with a wink in Zoey’s direction. “But I’ll bet Oatmeal Girl lasts longer on her horse than Jelly Roll Girl.”

  Feeling smug and hungry, Zoey climbed up on the stool that Will had vacated and picked up her spoon. “Thank you, Joy,” she said before digging into the fragrant concoction.

  Linda and Joy stood together drinking coffee and talking about the party the night before. Zoey pretty much blocked it out because Tressa sat down beside her and launched into a story about her older brother, who was a s
tupid toad because he stole the remote to the television and wouldn’t give it back even when their mother threatened to ship him to Siberia.

  Normally, Zoey would have paid close attention to anything about Logan, because despite what his sister thought, he was killer cute. But this morning, she tuned that out, too. The sound she needed to hear was her mother’s footsteps.

  Something was wrong with Mom. Zoey knew that for sure. She had never appeared in public without combing her hair. That was crazy.

  Anne walked in just as Zoey was chasing the last two raisins around the bottom of the bowl with her spoon. Her hair was combed but her cheeks were a strange shade of pink and she was breathing fast, like Zoey did just before an asthma attack.

  To Zoey’s immense surprise, Anne was dressed in jeans and a black Silver Rose T-shirt like the ones for sale in the office. Zoey wanted one real bad, but her mother said she hadn’t expected such a huge response to her idea and had ordered only adult sizes.

  Mom dashed to the coffeepot, elbowing Linda out of the way. “Hi, Linda. Joy. Fill me up. I need caffeine.”

  Zoey’s grip on her spoon loosened. Coffee? Her mother only drank tea.

  Joy obliged. Her mother took a sip then looked around. “Zoey, how come you and Tressa aren’t at the barn?” she asked.

  “Uh…we’re waiting till Will gets back,” Tressa answered when Zoey failed to make her voice work.

  “Is he running behind schedule?”

  “We all are,” Joy said. “Got a late arrival coming in. Will just left for the airport to pick him up.” Before Zoey’s mom could say anything, Joy added, “Means a shorter ride this afternoon, but nobody’s complaining. A couple of the folks wanted to go to church and take part in the trail ride. Now they can do both.”

  Mom looked a little confused, like she didn’t even know today was Sunday. “O…kay, then. I’ll say hi to our guests, then be right back. If we’re not packing a picnic lunch, maybe we can eat under the big tree.”

  As she hurried into the dining room, Zoey and Tressa exchanged a look. “Is your mom wearing boots?” Tressa asked.

  Zoey nodded. Her stomach didn’t feel right and she didn’t think it was from eating too much oatmeal. “They’re my grandma’s old pair. Mommy said they pinch her toes. She let me wear them for fun until I got my own.” She kicked the heels of her very cool aqua-blue leather boots together.

  “What’s she got ’em on for now?”

  “I don’t know.” An unpleasant thought struck her. Was her mother planning to join the ride because she was afraid Zoey might have an attack? Had Joy told her about what happened last night?

  Tressa leaned closer and whispered, “I heard my mom tell somebody on the phone this morning that your mom and Will are in love.” The way she said it told Zoey how repulsive her friend found the idea.

  Zoey dropped her spoon. It clattered to the floor, launching the last two raisins airborne. Love? she mouthed in disbelief.

  Tressa nodded, making a face.

  “No way,” Zoey said, slipping off the stool. She dropped to her knees and stretched for the spoon to give herself time to think. Is it possible?

  A tingle started in her chest. Instead of a scary tightening, a warm glow spread through her insides. This could be the coolest thing ever, she thought. If Will and her mom were in love, Zoey might never have to leave the Silver Rose. What could be better than that?

  CHAPTER TEN

  ANNE PAUSED at the parlor window, her gaze attracted to the colorful scene unfolding beneath the giant cottonwood. Given the heat of late July, they’d decided to hold Zoey’s birthday party outside, where an inflatable swimming pool had been erected. Will and two of his young ranch hands had secured the swing to the tree and were now attempting to suspend a festive, horse-shaped piñata in its place. Dappled shade cast roving shadows on the nearby picnic tables, which, as per Zoey’s request, were adorned with bright pink tablecloths. Balloons and a “Happy Birthday, Zoey” banner fluttered in the arid breeze. A barbecue grill and three large coolers completed the setting.

  In an hour, six children would be arriving for the kind of party her daughter had always dreamed of—games, swimming, hot dogs and cake. The kind of party Anne’s demanding schedule had prevented her from throwing for her daughter. Now, thanks to Will and Joy, Zoey was going to have the best birthday of her life.

  Anne wished she could claim more of the credit. But she’d been busy—avoiding Will. In the weeks since their romantic near miss, Anne had devoted herself to improving the Silver Rose, overseeing everything from an immaculate, weed-free garden to newly painted bathrooms in every cabin. Her campaign had procured the physical distance she needed to convince herself she’d made the right choice. But emotionally, Anne was still a long way from admitting she hadn’t made the worst mistake of her life.

  Will’s outwardly benign attitude toward her would have driven Anne mad, if not for the occasional glimpse at the turmoil beneath the facade. He might act as though he’d put their sexual attraction behind him, but every so often, when he thought she wasn’t looking, she’d catch a hint of longing in his eyes. That look would make her recall the all-too-vivid details of their encounter.

  Anne told herself she’d made the only decision possible given their circumstances. But practicality didn’t make the nights any easier to take. Or the days, either, she decided, leaning closer to the window so she could watch Will at work. Shirtless.

  Her grip on the Hello Kitty napkins tightened as she scanned his broad shoulders. The waistband of his jeans was almost black from sweat. When he leaned over to pick up the gaily adorned papier-mâché pony, she caught a glimpse of white at his waist. Pale skin or underwear? God help her, she really wanted to know.

  Throat dry, she closed her eyes and sighed. Fool.

  The trill of the phone interrupted her mental castigation.

  Please, let it be Barry, Anne prayed as she hurried toward the office. She’d e-mailed him and left two messages on his service to remind him of Zoey’s big day. Would he make the effort to call his daughter? Probably not. Which meant Anne would have to call him before Zoey left for Tressa’s sleepover; Barry would pretend he’d been poised to call and Zoey would be thrilled to talk to him. Then a few days later a nice big check would arrive in the mail. Such was Barry’s idea of fatherhood.

  “I got it,” Zoey cried, charging into the room past her mother.

  She launched herself into A.J.’s chair. “Hello? I… I mean, Good morning, Silver Rose Ranch.” Anne listened for any telltale rattle in her daughter’s breathing, but all she heard was expectation in the little girl’s voice.

  “Grandpa,” Zoey shrieked with delight. “You remembered.”

  Anne paused in the doorway. Tears clouded her eyes. Thank heavens for the Cavanaugh men, she thought— A.J. for remembering, Will for teaching Zoey how to ride.

  Just look at her, Anne thought, observing Zoey with as impartial an eye as possible. She’d grown two inches, at least. Her lanky legs were as brown as walnuts. Her hair had grown, too. It brushed her midback and was almost ash blond from the sun. The wavy locks looked full and lustrous thanks to Joy’s mysterious mayonnaise beauty treatment.

  Zoey had blossomed in other ways, too. No longer shy and tentative, she’d become the Silver Rose mascot—adored by guests, confident in social settings.

  What Anne found even more thrilling was that, despite the ranch’s abundant supply of dust, pollen and animals, Zoey hadn’t experienced another critical respiratory episode.

  She’s happy here and healthy. What that might mean when they returned to New York was anybody’s guess.

  “Mommy,” Zoey shrieked, motioning Anne to come closer. “You’ll never guess what Grandpa bought me.” Into the phone, she cried, “Oh, Grandpa, thank you so much. I love you. I love you.”

  Hearing her daughter’s effortless declaration touched Anne deeply. Why couldn’t love be that simple? Why, when Anne knew she was in love with Will, couldn’t she come out and te
ll him? Why did she have to make everything so complicated?

  Anne had agonized over the matter enough in the past five weeks to know there was no simple answer. Was she a spineless coward who hid behind her job and her daughter to avoid involvement with a man who made her want things she couldn’t have? Or was she a woman with defined goals and dreams that could only be met in a larger arena than the Silver Rose could provide?

  “Mommy,” Zoey cried, “Grandpa bought me a car.”

  “A what?” The napkins slipped from Anne’s hand, spilling pink kittens in French berets across the floor.

  “A car. It’s my size. Runs on a batt’ry. And it’s pink. My favorite color,” she added on a last whisper of breath.

  “Do you have your inha…?”

  Before Anne could finish the word, Zoey pulled the plastic medicine dispenser out of the pocket of her shorts. She took a measured puff and inhaled deeply. Within moments, she was breathing freely, but the dark look she gave Anne said Zoey hadn’t appreciated her mother’s interference.

  “Grandpa wants to tell you about it.”

  Anne’s step faltered as she walked to the desk. To think she’d been afraid A.J. or Will would try to give Zoey a horse.

  Zoey started to pass Anne the receiver then jerked it back. “Come home soon, Grandpa. So I can kiss you. And drive my car.”

  Anne took the phone and stepped out of the way so Zoey could race past. Her joyous cry filled the house. “Grandpa bought me a car.”

  Muffled applause came from the kitchen, where Joy was holding her weekly cooking class.

  “What have you done, A. J. Cavanaugh?” Anne said, her voice not nearly as stern as she wanted it to be.

  “Don’t fret, Annie. It’s harmless. A miniature pink convertible. Cutest thing you ever saw. I spotted it in some farmer’s yard. His granddaughter was grown up and he was getting rid of the thing. Only cost twenty bucks. He wanted forty, but when it wouldn’t start, he came down.”

  “A car that doesn’t run. Okay. I like that.”