The Cowboy's Perfect Match

by Cathy McDavid

  “Looks like there’s quite a crowd already,” Ryan observed.

  They weren’t late. Neither were they early.

  “Emily has a lot of friends in the valley,” his date commented. “That’s what happens when you own and operate a local business for over three decades.”

  They climbed the few steps leading to the veranda and approached the front door. It was partially ajar, and a sign taped beneath the antique knocker invited guests to come in.

  Once inside, they were immediately approached by a teenaged girl who occasionally worked at the ranch. At the moment, she was taking the guests’ outerwear for temporary holding. Those who’d brought gifts were shown a table just around the corner to the left.

  “Thank you, my dear.” Ryan’s date patted the teenager’s cheek. “You’re doing an excellent job.”

  She smiled at the praise and pointed toward the parlor. “Everyone’s in there.”

  Ryan placed a hand on his date’s back and gently guided her ahead of him. Once in the parlor, they were instantly approached by their hosts, Emily and Homer, who stood sentry near the arched entryway.

  “You came together!” Emily exclaimed. “How nice.”

  “Made sense,” Nora answered, “seeing as we’re neighbors. Why drive two vehicles when one will do?” She kissed both Emily and Homer on their cheeks. “Besides, I’d be crazy to turn down a lift from a handsome young man.”

  Ryan gave Emily a brief hug and shook Homer’s hand. “Don’t let her fool you. She played hard to get.”

  Nora cackled, and they all joined in.

  “There’s food and a bar in the library,” Emily said. “Help yourself. Bridget’s prepared a veritable feast. ’Course, you know that. You helped set up.”

  “Are Gianna and Derrick here?” Nora asked, searching the room.

  “Somewhere.” Emily also looked around. “I just saw them.”

  In the next instant, her and Homer’s attention was diverted by new guests heading in their direction.

  “Would you like a drink?” Ryan led Nora deeper into the parlor.

  “A small glass of white wine.”

  “You mingle. I’ll be right back.”

  Ryan left her to locate the bar in the library. A glance over his shoulder assured him that Nora had wasted no time striking up a conversation with a couple he didn’t know.

  A quick scan of the room revealed few familiar faces. Not surprising, since Ryan hadn’t been in town very long and generally stuck close to his house and Sweetheart Ranch. On the other hand, he and the clerks at the home-improvement store in north Scottsdale were on a first-name basis.

  After ordering drinks from the bartender—Nora’s wine and a beer for himself—he nodded and issued a hello to the people forming a line behind him. Ryan wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing at the engagement party. He was merely an employee at the ranch and a recent one at that.

  Actually, he did know why. Nora disliked driving at night, and she hadn’t wanted to inconvenience her already busy son and daughter-in-law for a lift. If not for that, Ryan might have politely begged off.

  Without consciously directing it, his gaze sought Bridget. She was nowhere in sight, and he assumed she was in the kitchen overseeing the food.

  During the past several days, he’d looked for any small sign from Emily that she suspected he’d kissed Bridget after the square dance and again at the park on Thursday and detected none. Nor, for that matter, had Bridget given any indication they’d kissed. She was either doing an excellent job pretending neither kiss had happened or she didn’t care.

  Could she be hiding from him in the kitchen and not necessarily seeing to the food? Ryan ground his teeth together. This warm-one-minute-and-cool-the-next routine was frustrating him. It was also keeping his interest in Bridget at peak level.

  A thought occurred to him. Was she purposely playing him?

  He decided no. She wasn’t the relationship-game type. The mixed signals she was giving more likely stemmed from her uncertainties about her feelings.

  Accepting the wineglass and bottle of beer from the bartender, Ryan navigated a path back to Nora through the increasing crowd. She’d moved in the short time he was gone and was now chatting with Bridget’s mother and stepdad, whom Ryan had met earlier today while helping to prepare for the party.

  Nora spotted him and gestured him over. Ryan hesitated. Not that he didn’t like Bridget’s parents—her mom seemed to be an especially nice lady. But standing beside her and making small talk might prove awkward when all he could think about was getting alone with her daughter and picking up right where that last interrupted kiss had left off.

  “Thank you,” Nora said, accepting the wineglass he held out. “You know Caroline, of course, and her husband, Doug.”

  “How are you doing tonight?” Ryan flashed a smile at Caroline and shook Doug’s hand.

  The other man’s attention immediately wandered. He wore the pained expression of someone who would rather be somewhere—anywhere—else. Ryan recalled that Bridget wasn’t thrilled with her mother’s choice of a second husband. While not wanting to jump to conclusions, his initial impression of Doug wasn’t great.

  “I’ve been hearing all about you,” Caroline said, her tone like honey. “You have a real fan.”

  “Nora’s prejudiced.” Ryan grinned fondly at his date. “Comes from her being my neighbor and a good friend.”

  “Oh, not Nora,” Caroline corrected him. “My mother. She’s quite fond of you and singing your praises.”

  “The feeling’s entirely mutual.”

  “I’d venture to say my daughters are fond of you, too. Bridget especially.”

  Ryan chuckled. “I can’t imagine her mentioning my name, much less talking about me.”

  “She doesn’t. Not a single peep.” A look of amusement lit Caroline’s face. The resemblance between her and her daughters was striking. “Which tells me a great deal. When Bridget’s smitten with a fellow, she clams up. I think she’s afraid of jinxing a good thing.”

  “Not sure I agree with you.” From everything Bridget had told Ryan, she didn’t consider him a good thing.

  The subject of their discussion suddenly emerged from the doorway leading from the kitchen. Cheeks flushed and movements hurried, she carried a large platter, which she placed on the table. Those standing in the immediate vicinity let out exclamations of approval.

  “Oh, my!”

  “Those look scrumptious.”

  Ryan had yet to sample any of the food but harbored no doubt whatsoever that it was delicious. The finger-food fare couldn’t be called hors d’oeuvres and was instead more along the lines of mini entrées. The elaborate cake on display could have been served at a five-star restaurant.

  “Does that girl ever stop working?” Caroline’s expression softened as she watched her oldest daughter. “She gets that from my mother, you know. Mom’s a workaholic, too.”

  “I wish she’d take a break,” Nora said, “and enjoy the party.”

  Doug abruptly excused himself. “Be right back.”

  Ryan noticed that no one responded to or appeared even the least bit distressed at Doug’s exit.

  Seeing Bridget’s mother and stepdad together made Ryan appreciate her determination not to marry just anyone and instead wait for the right person. He also better understood why she wouldn’t want to waste time with someone like him, a guy intent on waiting until he was in a better position financially before taking the plunge.

  The revelation gave him pause. He’d been wrong to kiss her and wrong to want to try again. Better he back off now before making a mistake they both regretted.

  At the same moment he came to that conclusion, Bridget broke away from the trio of young women she’d been speaking with and made straight for Ryan. His heart forgot about the warning he’d given himself moments earl
ier and started beating with the force of a bass drum.

  No, not him. She was heading for her mother. As the haze surrounding Ryan cleared, he realized Caroline had hailed Bridget.

  “Stop worrying so much about the food.” She put an arm around Bridget and hugged her tight. “You’re missing out on all the fun.”

  “I think everything’s under control. For the moment,” Bridget added, unwilling to fully relinquish her catering duties.

  “Ryan cleaned up rather nicely, wouldn’t you say?” Nora tilted her head at him.

  Bridget hesitated, then admitted, “Yes. He did.”

  “You, too.” Those two words were the most his turned-to-mush brain could manage. Bridget was absolutely gorgeous.

  No apron tonight, she wore a flowing pale cocktail dress, cinched at the waist to flatter her figure and short enough to reveal a pair of shapely legs. Already, he was rethinking his resolve not to kiss her again. Should the chance present itself, he’d spirit her away to a hidden corner and keep her entirely to himself.

  “Your food is a hit.” Nora turned toward Bridget. “I’d get something to eat except the table is mobbed.”

  “This party’s important to Gianna. I just want everyone to enjoy themselves.”

  Owen’s kids chose that moment to round the corner and burst into the parlor. With Cody in the lead, they “crashed” the party.

  “Uh-oh.” Caroline’s smile widened. “Seems we have some escapees in our midst.”

  High on excitement, the kids ran straight for Bridget and her mother.

  Cody ground to a halt. “Can we have some cake, Bridget?”

  His sisters hugged Bridget’s legs, their exuberant giggles sounding like chipmunk chatter.

  “Hey, you three.” She relaxed for the first time since joining them. “Where’s your babysitter?”

  “On her phone,” Cody announced.

  Bridget reached down and stroked Cody’s hair. “Well, the cake hasn’t been served yet. You’ll have to wait.”

  “Daddy’s going to make us go back upstairs.”

  “I promise to personally bring you each a piece.”

  “I know you.” Marisa extracted herself from Bridget in order to point at Ryan and accuse with four-year-old candidness.

  “I know you, too.” He grinned. “I saw you at the park the other day.”

  “Are you Bridget’s boyfriend?”

  All eyes zeroed in on Bridget, including Ryan’s.

  “No,” she replied after an awkward pause. “He came to the party. With Ms. Nora.”

  “Oh.” Marisa’s shoulders slumped.

  She wasn’t the only one who wished things were different.

  No, wait, Ryan reminded himself. Bridget’s off-limits. Why did he keep forgetting?

  Easy, he thought, letting his gaze linger on her lovely face. She had that effect on him.

  “I agree, little one.” Caroline bent and addressed Marisa. “I don’t think him being Bridget’s boyfriend is such a bad idea.”

  “Mom!” Bridget groaned with embarrassment.

  Ryan couldn’t help grinning. She was cute when flustered.

  “There you are.” Owen appeared at the same time the babysitter rounded the corner.

  “S-sorry, Mr. Caufield,” the teenaged girl stammered, rushing forward. “I swear I looked away for just a minute, and they were gone.”

  While Owen and the sitter collected his kids, Bridget used the opportunity to sneak away. Ryan didn’t go after her. That would only give credence to the boyfriend remark.

  After that, Nora took Ryan around the party, introducing him to various guests. She was a wealth of information, whispering tidbits of interest about each person as they approached and adding how knowing them might benefit Ryan.

  Eventually, she asked him to fetch her a second glass of wine. Gianna’s dad was planning on making a toast soon. Ryan did as she asked, skipping a second beer for himself. One was his limit when driving. He didn’t hurry back; his vantage point at the bar gave him an unobstructed view of Bridget. She was talking with the same friend who’d watched the kids at the playground the other night.

  Perhaps sensing his stare, she looked up. He gave her a small shrug, his way of apologizing for the uncomfortable comment earlier. She shrugged in return, a small smile tugging at her mouth. At least she wasn’t mad.

  When she angled her head appealingly, his throat went completely dry. A condition repeated swallowing didn’t alleviate. This steering clear of personal involvement sure wasn’t easy.

  “Hi, aren’t you Ryan DeMere?”

  He pivoted to discover a smartly dressed middle-aged woman standing next to him. “Howdy. Have we met?” He’d been introduced to so many people tonight, his memory was cloudy.

  “Not formally. I’m Cheryl-Anne Nivens.” She shook his hand. “I know Emily and Owen from the local business owners’ association and the town meetings.” She smiled coyly. “Of all the people here, you’re the most interesting one. I’ve been trying to wrangle a moment alone with you all evening.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You must be mistaken. I’m the least interesting person here.”

  “Aren’t you remodeling the old Chandler place?”

  “Yes.” He wondered how she knew that and where this conversation was going.

  “I had my eye on that property as an investment for a client. You beat me to the punch.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I should explain. I co-own and manage a real-estate-and-commercial-brokerage company. My partner in crime—” she pointed to a woman across the room “—was the broker who handled Owen’s purchase of the feed store.”

  “I see.”

  With practiced ease, she reached into her evening bag and extracted a business card, which she then handed to Ryan.

  “My client still has an interest in the property, if you’re in the market to sell.”

  “There’s a lot of work still to be done.”

  Cheryl-Anne didn’t miss a beat. “Like I said, my client’s looking for investment properties. He might be willing to hire you on to finish the work. I won’t lie, Ryan. That property has a lot of potential, and Mustang Valley is a growing community.”

  He was admittedly intrigued, though cautious. “I’m not sure—”

  “Let me ask you this.” She tapped a long, pink nail against her chin. “Would you be willing to show me the place? Just for kicks.”

  Ryan pondered that offer for a moment. He liked the idea of obtaining a real-estate professional’s opinion of his property’s value, even if he wasn’t yet willing to sell.

  “I might.”

  She beamed. “Wonderful.”

  They exchanged information, deciding on a day and time during the upcoming week to meet. That accomplished, they parted ways, Ryan to deliver Nora’s wine. While he searched for her, he thought about his upcoming meeting with Cheryl-Anne.

  Up until this moment, he’d never considered selling his house before the remodeling was complete. But if he could get a decent price, one where he made sufficient profit, he’d be that much further along in his plan to buy a ranch. And be a more suitable romantic interest for Bridget.

  What would she think of that? What did he?

  He found Nora just as someone clinked a glass with a spoon to silence the room. Gianna’s dad was preparing to make his toast.

  “What took you so long?” Nora whispered.

  “Sorry. I was talking to someone.”

  “Must have been one heck of a conversation. You look like a dog who stumbled upon a big old bone for the taking.”

  Ryan cautioned himself to relax. Nothing had happened yet and might never.

  Nonetheless, the encounter with Cheryl-Anne had his spirits soaring and his mind conjuring endless possibilities.

  * * *

&nb
sp; “WILL ONE OF you steady the ladder for me?” Ryan stared down from his shaky perch atop the six-foot ladder. “Seriously, I could use a little help here.”

  Two inquisitive faces stared up at him. Neither one made a move, other than to flick an ear.

  “Come on, guys. The whole point of this light is so that I can ride you at night. It’s getting too hot during the day.”

  His large paint gelding snorted in disinterest and ambled off to investigate the old yoga ball Ryan had put in the half-acre paddock to amuse the horses and hopefully get them to do more than stand in the shade, swishing flies away with their tails and pawing the dusty ground.

  Meteorologists were predicting the southern half of Arizona would reach triple-digit temperatures by month’s end. The same hot weather had already affected carriage and trail rides at Sweetheart Ranch. Before long, there would be no outings between the hours of nine in the morning and six in the evening. Since the monthly Saturday hayrides and cookouts were traditionally an evening event, they wouldn’t change.

  Ryan’s latest idea had been to install a single flood light on the pole at the south end of the paddock. That way, he could at least exercise his horses on the evenings he wasn’t working. He’d been neglecting them a little since starting at Sweetheart Ranch and was beginning to feel guilty.

  With one hand holding the new light fixture in place and his other one wielding a cordless drill, he said, “Not one of you willing to help?”

  The mare bumped the fourth step on the ladder with her nose, causing it to wobble precariously.

  “Wrong kind of help.” With his hands full, all Ryan could do was lean against the pole, hold his breath and hope for the best. Eventually, the ladder steadied.

  In hindsight, he realized he should have tackled this task before letting the horses out of their stalls and into the paddock. But he’d wanted to clean the stalls and get this floodlight installed prior to his one-o’clock appointment with Cheryl-Anne, the real-estate agent he’d met at the engagement party.

  As a result, he was rushed, drenched in sweat and growing increasingly irritated. At this rate, he wouldn’t have time to shower and change clothes before she arrived.