A Cowboy of Her Own

by Susan Fisher-Davis

  Driving his truck into the rental agency lot behind her, he parked in the first open spot, threw the gear into Park, and sat in his truck as she walked inside. He just wanted to get home but she’d insisted on turning in her rental. Couldn’t blame her, he supposed, since that cheapskate Earl Sanders was making her pay out of pocket with a promise of reimbursement. He’d rather be strapped to a bull’s ass for a week then wait for that asshole to come through with a promise.

  Roark put his window down and hooked his arm on the door. The heat from the day filtered through the cab. She came back out with the rental agent following her. Roark tightened his hands around the steering wheel and clenched his jaw when he saw the guy tilting his head to the side while he stared at her ass.

  Roark could hear them talking and the guy was being an ass. The kind who thought sexist remarks got him points with women. A cocky kid, one who only thought with his dick.

  “I just need to get my suitcases out of the car then I’ll be on my way,” Priscilla said pointing toward the rental.

  “Oh, that’s fine, babe. Are you staying in town close by?”

  Priscilla spun around. “No. I’m on my way to Spring City.”

  Roark watched the young man step closer to her, reaching his hand out to touch her but she jerked away from him.

  “I get off work in an hour. I could show you a good time if you stay in town.”

  “Does your boss know you talk to customers like this?”

  The kid laughed. “I am the boss. My dad owns the place.”

  Roark took a deep breath, blew it out, then threw the door open, and stepped down. He walked toward her and almost laughed when the rental agent spotted him. Roark stopped beside the car and leaned against it with his arms folded. The agent swallowed hard when Roark kept staring at him. Priscilla lifted her suitcases from the backseat, stood beside Roark and he took them from her.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked without taking his eyes from the agent.

  “Yes.” She turned to the agent. “Thank you for helping me.”

  Then, while she walked to the truck, Roark stood staring down at the young man and raised an eyebrow when the man looked past him to where Priscilla was walking.

  “Sorry, man. She’s really beautiful.” He shrugged and gave him a weak grin.

  “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass. Does that jerk routine really work on other women?”

  “Hey, I didn’t know she was with anyone.”

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s with anyone or not. You don’t talk to a woman that way.” Roark straightened up, and looked him up and down.

  “Sorry,” the agent mumbled.

  “You got that shit right. You are definitely sorry,” Roark walked away from him, put the suitcases in the bed of his truck, and then climbed in the driver’s seat. He glanced over to Priscilla. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. He was just a kid who thought I was interested for some reason.”

  Roark laughed. “He didn’t care if you were interested or not. He’s a cocky kid who thinks because his dad owns the place he can do what he wants.”

  “Thank you for talking to him for me. I was hoping he wouldn’t be here when I dropped the car off. I had to deal with him when I picked it up.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure you have men hitting on you all the time.”

  Priscilla shrugged. “Some.”

  “Some? Yeah, I’d say more than some.”

  “Men don’t make passes at women who wear glasses,” she said with a smile in her voice.

  Roark snorted. “Yeah, right.” He glanced around and then back to her. “Do you want to get something to eat or just keep driving? We have about an hour trip.”

  “I’m fine, if you are.”

  Roark nodded. “All right then. I just want to get home.”

  “And get in your hot tub.” She laughed and he liked the sound of it.

  “Yes, and you are more than welcome to follow me in there too.”

  “I just might. I did bring a swimsuit for the hotel pool.”

  Roark mentally groaned. He sure as hell did not need to picture that in his head. From what he could tell, she had one hell of a body and if he saw her in a swimsuit, he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

  Reaching for the radio dial, he turned it up. The song Hell of a Night by Dustin Lynch came on and he turned his head to hide a grin when he heard her humming along. The miles flew by, and before long, he was turning into his driveway and pulling up to the house.

  “This place is beautiful,” Priscilla said as she leaned forward to peer out the windshield.

  “It’s not a large ranch by Montana standards but it’s all mine.”

  “How many acres?”

  “Five hundred all together—most of it is pastureland. But the house, barns, and corrals take up fifty acres alone.”

  “Your home is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I built it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. My cousins and some friends from Clifton and Hartland helped me. Those are small towns close to Spring City.”

  “I can’t wait to see the inside.”

  “Inside? You’re going to be working the ranch so you have to stay in the bunkhouse.”

  “What?” She squealed.

  Roark grinned. “Just kidding.”

  Priscilla blew out a breath. “Real funny, Mister Callahan.”

  “Roark. Mister Callahan is my dad.” He stopped the truck, threw the gear into Park, shut off the engine, opened the door, and stepped out. She opened her door and climbed out on the other side then stepped up onto the running board. He watched as she reached into the bed of the truck to try to retrieve her suitcases. She smiled at him when he reached in and pulled them out one at a time, setting them down on the ground as he did. She picked them up with a cute huff. Women—they have to do it themselves. He was all for women being women—especially this one.

  What the hell are you thinking? That was the third time he’d asked himself that since meeting her.

  “I like Roark. Is that Irish?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Before she could move, he took the suitcases from her.

  Chapter Two

  Priscilla nodded, liking that he was a man of manners, and followed him to the steps leading to the door. Of course, once there, she proceeded to trip on the bottom step. The heat poured into her cheeks when he turned to stop her from falling.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her with honest concern.

  “Yes, I’m a little bit of a klutz,” she said shoving her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she followed him up the steps to the back door. Her eyes couldn’t stay off his ass and she couldn’t ignore the way his jeans stretched tight over it.

  He stopped at the door, shifted her bags in his hands, and opened it before motioning for her to enter. She stepped past him and walked into a beautiful kitchen. Stainless steel appliances sat nestled between gray marble countertops. The floor and cabinets were wide dark oak planks. A matching table sat centered in the room. She spun around to look at him.

  “This is gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. Follow me.” Without hesitation, he left the kitchen making her practically jog to keep up with him. They entered a large, open great room with high ceilings and the largest stone fireplace she’d ever seen. The entire front of the room was windows, from floor to ceiling.

  “This way,” Roark said from behind her. She turned to follow him down a hallway where he opened a door on the left. “You can stay in here. This room has its own bathroom. My room is down the hall, last door on the right. Just in case, you want to use the hot tub. It sits on the porch outside my room.”

  She looked up at him. “I might take you up on that, if you’re serious.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Of course. That hot water does wonders for muscle aches and trust me, darlin’, you’re going to be aching if you try to keep up with me for your story.”

  “
Is that a challenge?”

  One side of his sexy mouth rose in a smirk. “You can bet on it.” He set her suitcases inside the door. “I’m going to hit the hot tub now and then take a nap. I’m damn tired. It’s possible I’ll be out all night. If so, I’ll see you in the morning. Make yourself at home.”

  “Do you mind if I look around outside and take some photos?”

  Roark shrugged. “Do whatever you want.” He strode down the hall and entered his bedroom and the door closed behind him.

  So much for joining him in the hot tub. Her muscles hurt too. Sighing, Priscilla entered her room and closed the door. She pulled out her cell phone, called the office, and asked to speak to Earl.

  “Well, did you get in touch with Callahan,” he asked in way of answering.

  “Yes. I’m at his ranch––”

  “What the hell are you doing at his ranch? You’re supposed to be following him around the circuit.”

  “He’s been eliminated.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Outlaw Callahan? Eliminated?”

  “Yes—”

  “Holy shit. He’s the best. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. Some other guy won...whatever it is they win.”

  “Christ, tell me it wasn’t Burke.”

  “Yes, that was his name.”

  “Shit, I bet Callahan is more than pissed about that.”

  Priscilla pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a breath. Earl Sanders rarely said a sentence without a swear word in it. She was no prude but he could at least try to have the decency to dial it back around her, especially on the phone.

  “I think he’s more disappointed than anything.”

  “So, why are you at his ranch? I wanted the circuit story. Since he didn’t move on, I could have had you follow Burke around—”

  “No! That man is an ass. I convinced Mister Callahan to let me observe him on his ranch. You know...let the readers know what a bull rider does when he’s not following the circuit.” Her pitch was met with a few seconds of silence.

  “That could work. All right. Same amount of time then.”

  “Wait. You expect me to stay here for three weeks?”

  “Hey, it was your idea. That’s how long you would have followed him around the circuit. The belt may have been won today, but there were still other venues to go to. Roark would have participated in others just for the hell of it. I suppose, since he lost the buckle, he didn’t feel like doing any of the others. Do it this way or find another job.”

  She really hated him at times. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

  “All right. I’ll send updates through email. Goodbye.” She hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed. Earl didn’t like her working there but a few days after she mentioned to her mother that she’d love to work at the magazine, Earl had called her and offered her a job. At first, he gave her the worst jobs he could, possibly hoping she’d quit, but she hung in there. She wasn’t sure what kind of hold her mother had over Earl, but it was because of Jackie Butler that Priscilla worked there at all.

  After changing into her sneakers, Priscilla took her glasses off and placed them on the bedside table. After picking up her camera, she left her room, walked to the kitchen and then out the back door. The heat hit her hard even before she stepped off the porch. It was incredible that it was late May and the heat was already staggering.

  Skipping down the steps, she headed toward the barn. She shaded her eyes and glanced around. Horses stood in pastures, along with cows, munching on grass. Their tails swishing to chase away flies. The area between the house and barn was dirt with no grass growing and her footsteps stirred up little puffs of dust.

  Priscilla smiled as she entered the barn. A blended aroma of horses, hay, leather, and manure assaulted her nostrils. She stopped to let her eyes adjust to the dimness of the barn, and then walked down the center aisle. However, the inside of the barn wasn’t much cooler than outside. She lifted her hair off her neck and fanned it with her hand. An older man came striding toward her.

  “Can I help you?” he asked stopping a few feet from her.

  “I’m just looking around.” She smiled at him.

  “Why? For what?” he asked with a frown.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you looking around? Does Roark know you’re here? Who are you?”

  “Okay, first, I’m just looking at the horses. Second...yes, he knows I’m here. Third, my name is Priscilla Butler. I’m a writer with Western Cowboy magazine.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Magazine? Are you sure Roark knows you’re here?”

  “Of course I’m sure. He brought me here.”

  “Ah, I see.” The man folded his arms across his chest and nodded in a far too condescending way.

  “I don’t think you do. I’m not a...buckle bunny. Lord, who thought of that name anyway?” she muttered.

  The man laughed. “Just another term for groupie. Those women follow the circuit hoping to land a night with a cowboy. Their kind of rock star.”

  Priscilla smiled. “Well, I’m not one of them. Cowboys don’t interest me.” At least they hadn’t...until she’d seen Roark Callahan.

  “You’re here to interview Roark then?”

  “I was going to follow him around the circuit...you know, get his story but he was eliminated today.”

  “Yeah, I saw it. That damn Burke won. I’m sure Roark is finding that hard to swallow. They hate each other.”

  “I don’t think Burke would be loved by many.”

  “You got that right.” With a chuckle, he stuck his hand out. “I’m Roy Jefferies. I’m the ranch manager.”

  She put her hand in his. “Nice to meet you, Mister Jefferies.”

  “Call me Roy. We’re not formal around here. Where’s Roark?”

  “He said he was going to soak in the hot tub and then get some sleep.”

  Roy nodded. “I’ll get with him tomorrow then. You have a nice day, Priscilla. Be careful walking around. Snakes are looking for shade and if you see one, whatever you do, don’t antagonize it. They’ll strike.” He tipped his hat and walked off.

  Snakes? Antagonize it? There was no way she’d ever provoke a snake—not on purpose, anyway. Priscilla glanced around the floor. Bits of straw lay scattered around. Hay was stacked against one wall and the opposite one had a row of stalls. She wasn’t going to either side. Staying in the center seemed like the safer thing to do. She knew she would seriously freak if she saw a snake. She trembled as if chilled. God! She hated snakes.

  ROARK SAT IN THE HOT tub with his head resting against the side. The water felt fantastic. The jets were doing their job of soothing his tired muscles. Damn Justin Burke! There was no other cowboy on the circuit he hated more. Hate was such a strong word, he supposed. Disliked immensely? Oh, yeah. He certainly disliked him immensely. Shit, who was he trying to kid? He fucking hated the man.

  Shutting the jets off, he reached for the towel hanging next to the tub and stood. After stepping out, he dried off and entered his bedroom. He dropped the towel onto the floor and crawled between the sheets. He’d just closed his eyes when a distinctly feminine blood-curdling scream ripped through the air.

  Damn! He sprang from the bed and quickly pulled his jeans on and ran from his room, down the hall, tugging up the zipper as he did, hoping he didn’t catch something between the teeth. He ran through the kitchen, out the door, jumped down over the porch steps, and rushed toward the barn. He saw Roy come running out of it with the same urgency.

  “What the hell was that?” Roark yelled.

  “I think it was your guest,” Roy yelled back then skidded to a stop to look around. “There she is.” He pointed toward one of the corrals so both men ran that way.

  “Priscilla, do not move,” Roark called out to her as he came to a stop when he saw a rattlesnake very close to her feet.

  “I’m too scared to move.” Her voice shook when she spoke in not much more than a whisper. He
knew she had to be terrified.

  “Good. Stay still. Roy, get me the rifle.” Roark walked to the corral and climbed the rails, then jumped down and slowly walked to within a few of feet of her.

  “You’re not going to kill it, are you?”

  Roark stopped and stared at her with disbelief. “What do you want me to do with it? Take it inside for a pet?”

  “No, but I hate to see anything killed. It’s not his fault I’m terrified of him.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Roark muttered. Damn, he knew she was going to be trouble. “Get the rake, Roy.”

  “Boss—”

  “Just get me the rake. Please.” Roark hung his head and saw he was barefoot. Hell, he didn’t even have a shirt on. She was damn lucky that he’d taken the time to pull his jeans on. He raised his head when Roy tossed him the rake from over the rails. Roark narrowed his eyes at his manager. “Pussy.”

  Roy grinned. “I hate snakes and you damn well know it. It’s all yours, boss.”

  “I could make you do it.” Roark picked up the rake and walked to where the snake had slithered to the shade beside the barn. He glanced at Priscilla. “Are you all right? He didn’t strike, did he?”

  “No. I think I scared him as much as he scared me. Please get him away or I’m going to pee my pants.”

  Roark chuckled. “Can’t have that.”

  He stepped around her, scooped the snake up onto the rake, and then tossed him over the fence. He heard Priscilla let a breath out and he turned in time to see her knees buckling. He caught her just before she fell to the dirt.

  “She didn’t get bit, did she?” Roy asked in a concerned voice.

  “She said she didn’t. Could you open the gate, please?” Roark carried Priscilla to the gate and waited while Roy opened it for him. “Too much excitement, I suppose.”

  “City slicker,” Roy mumbled.

  Roark chuckled. “This coming from the man who screams like a banshee when he sees a snake.”

  “I’ll be in the barn,” Roy grumbled as he walked away.