The Cowboy's Perfect Match

by Cathy McDavid

  A short time later, the house was empty and blissfully quiet. Bridget and her grandmother had retired to the kitchen. They’d accomplished everything that needed doing, other than a few preparations for tomorrow’s continental breakfast.

  Grandma Em sat at the table and rested her feet up on one of the empty chairs. “Whew! The mother of the bride had the right idea.”

  “She did.” Bridget poured two glasses of leftover champagne and brought them to the table. “Here. I hate to see this go to waste.”

  “Me, too.” Grandma Em clinked glasses with Bridget. “Cheers. And to another great wedding tomorrow.” They sipped in companionable silence for a few minutes until Grandma Em dropped the not-unexpected bombshell question. “What was going on with you and Ryan earlier? And don’t give me that line about taking out the trash.”

  Not quite ready to talk about the kiss, Bridget said, “Ryan listed his property for sale with a real-estate agent.”

  “Huh! That’s out of the blue.”

  “Yes. It is.” Bridget described Ryan meeting Cheryl-Anne a week ago at the engagement party.

  “But why would he sell before the renovations are complete? He’ll make less money.”

  “He hopes to get one step closer to buying a small ranch and one step closer to settling down.”

  “With you?”

  “We’ve talked about dating.” More than talked, but Bridget was gauging her grandmother’s response before admitting to more.

  “I must be more tired than I thought. I should have seen that coming given the way you both drool over each other whenever you’re together.”

  “I suppose we have been obvious.”

  “I thought he didn’t meet enough of your requirements.”

  “He does, actually. He’s fun and kind and sweet and ambitious. Really good with children. A lot of things I’m looking for in a man. And now that he’s selling his property...” She stopped short when her grandmother made a face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Look, I like Ryan. He’s a decent guy, and I’m in favor of you two dating. For the right reasons. I’m a little concerned that he’s making such a drastic decision like selling his property based entirely on you.”

  “I agree. I raised the same concerns with him myself.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He’s just listing the property,” Bridget said, repeating Ryan’s argument. “He may not accept any offers.”

  “What’s the point of listing if he doesn’t sell?”

  “To see if there’s an interest and get an idea of what the property’s worth.”

  Grandma Em shook her head. “And if he doesn’t sell, then he’s no closer to buying a ranch. What happens to the two of you then?”

  “He and his real-estate agent are very optimistic.”

  “All right. Let’s say he does sell. What if three months from now you realize you’re not right for each other? He’s gone and changed his whole life for you and made less money on his property than if he’d finished the renovations. And he might well be without a roof over his head.”

  Bridget’s smile dimmed. A moment ago, she’d been on cloud nine. Now, she was crashing back to earth. Had she gotten so completely caught up in Ryan’s enthusiasm she failed to heed her common sense?

  That wasn’t like her. Bridget proceeded with caution.

  “I’m sorry,” Grandma Em said. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I just love you and like Ryan and would hate to see you both hurt.”

  “I know.” Bridget pressed a hand to her chest, where a heavy weight resided. “I want the kind of relationship Mom and Dad had. Head over heels for each other. I think I could have that with Ryan. Eventually.”

  “Soon enough for you?”

  “I can wait a little while. Better that than marrying the wrong man, like Doug.”

  “Your mother isn’t unhappy, Bridget.”

  “She isn’t ecstatic, either.”

  “You’re wrong.” Grandma Em drained the last of her champagne. “Doug has his faults, but he’s good to your mom in other ways. Ways that matter to her now at this stage in her life, and that didn’t matter as much when she married your dad.”

  “He’s controlling.”

  “That’s how you see him. Your mother sees him as a good provider who’s devoted to her. The fact he may not be the man you’d choose for yourself doesn’t automatically make him a bad choice for your mother.”

  Bridget considered that statement for a moment and had to admit maybe she and Molly hadn’t given Doug a fair shot.

  “I guess Mom has different requirements than me.”

  Grandma Em groaned. “You need to ditch that ridiculous list of yours. It has you so afraid of making the wrong decision, you’re not making a decision at all.”

  “Not true. I’m going out with Ryan.”

  “Only because you pressured him into taking an action he wouldn’t have otherwise.”

  Had she? The weight in her chest grew heavier.

  “Oh, honey.” Grandma Em reached for her hand. “I’m worried you’ve been using that list for years to protect yourself from being hurt.”

  “I’m not like Molly,” Bridget insisted. “I don’t have a history of men breaking my heart or leaving me at the altar like her.”

  “No, you had a father who adored you and then suddenly and tragically died.”

  “You think I have abandonment issues?”

  “I think you haven’t gotten over the hurt and pain of losing someone without any warning and who meant the world to you. When your grandfather passed, I had time to prepare. He’d been sick for almost a year. You, Molly and your mom had no warning whatsoever with your father. He went to work one day and never came home. No one walks away from a blow like that emotionally unscathed.”

  Bridget wanted to refute her grandmother. She wasn’t afraid or hiding behind her list. Only it made too much sense and explained a lot about her life up until now, including gaining weight after her dad died and putting her career first.

  Self-realization was a difficult process and left Bridget drained. If not for having to deliver chilled champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries to the newlyweds’ cabin, she’d go upstairs, crawl into bed and stay under the covers until morning.

  She pushed away from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Grandma Em asked.

  Pointing to the ice bucket on the counter, she said, “Taking the champagne and strawberries to cabin five. I’m tired and would rather do it now than later.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. If I spoke out of turn—”

  “You didn’t, Grandma.”

  The older woman stood. “All I want in this world is for you to be happy.”

  “I know that.” She kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  She would, too, once she had time to process what her grandmother had said. It was a lot to think about.

  While Bridget swirled chocolate sauce on a china plate in the design of a heart and topped it with the strawberries, her grandmother left to straighten the chapel and rearrange the altar for tomorrow’s wedding. Carefully packing the delicacies in a soft-sided cooler, she carried it and the ice bucket to the golf cart outside. At the last second, she included scented candles and a bag of dried rose petals to sprinkle on the bed.

  While setting out the goodies for the newlyweds in their cabin—they’d long since left for their dinner—she considered telling Ryan she’d changed her mind. Or, at the least, that they needed a little more time.

  Grandma Em was right. His selling his property purely for her was a bad idea. If things didn’t go well, Ryan could come to resent her. She’d hate that. They both would.

  After locking the cabin door behind her, she dropped the cooler in the golf cart.

  What now? Ba
ck to the house? Call Ryan?

  As if in answer, she noticed his truck parked beside the stables. It hadn’t been there before.

  On impulse, she turned the wheel of the golf cart and pressed down on the pedal with her foot. The golf cart silently sped up the slight rise toward the stables as fast as its battery-powered motor would allow.

  Ryan was just coming out of the stables when she braked to a stop. “Hey there.”

  He still wore his clothes from earlier, though he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal tanned, muscular arms. He’d also unfastened the top two buttons, and the collar of his white undershirt peeked out.

  She liked him this way best. Not that he hadn’t looked yummy for the wedding earlier. But Ryan was at his most attractive when dressed casually and hard at work.

  “You busy?” she asked.

  “Not at the moment.” His grin stretched wide. “Cheryl-Anne just left. You missed her by five minutes.”

  Bridget hopped out of the golf cart. She and Ryan met up near the hitching post. “She was here?”

  “We signed the listing agreement. And, get this.” His grin grew, if that was even possible. “The second I did, she presented me with an offer.”

  Bridget’s jaw went slack. “You’re kidding!”

  “She’s been in talks with that investor client of hers the past few days while waiting for me to make up my mind. He saw the property back before I bought it and didn’t act fast enough.”

  “Can I ask if you got the price you wanted?”

  “I did. There are a couple of items we’re negotiating. But if the buyer agrees, Cheryl-Anne will bring the amended offer by tomorrow.”

  “On Sunday?”

  “Real estate is a seven-day-a-week business.”

  Bridget had to ask. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I’ve never wanted anything more.” Ryan reached for her and, wrapping his arms around her, lifted her high in the air and twirled her in a circle.

  She protested with a half-hearted “Put me down.”

  He did. “Let’s go out tonight and celebrate.”

  “It’s too soon. The sale isn’t finalized.”

  “Even if it falls through, there’ll be another one.”

  “You can’t be sure,” she insisted.

  “I’m more sure about this than I’ve been about anything in my life.”

  “All right.” Like before, his enthusiasm was contagious. How could she refuse?

  “Dinner at the Poco Dinero?”

  She shook her head. “Because I refuse to jinx anything, let’s go on a horseback ride instead.”

  “I’ll saddle up.”

  She laughed, loving his exuberance. “Not today. How about Wednesday morning? Early. There’s no wedding scheduled, and Molly can set out the continental breakfast for me.”

  “It’s a date.”

  Date. Bridget took a moment to let the word sink in. It’d been over two years since she’d last gone out with a man.

  It felt good. Incredible. And absolutely right.

  Whatever obstacles she and Ryan faced, she had faith they’d surmount them. Fate was clearly on their side. What other explanation could there be for such a quick offer on his property?

  * * *

  “HOW WAS YOUR DATE?” Molly asked the moment she answered Bridget’s call.

  “Gee, not even a hello?”

  “Hello. How was your date?”

  Bridget’s gaze traveled across the paddock to the backyard, where Ryan alternately peered in the kitchen window and stared up at the roof. “It wasn’t a date.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “We went on a morning horseback ride. Not to dinner. Not to a movie. Not to a concert.”

  “You packed food, right?” Molly asked.

  “Streusel and a thermos of coffee. We stopped for breakfast along the old camp trail.”

  “That’s a picnic and, by your own definition, a date.”

  There was no arguing with her sister, not that Bridget was inclined. She still got tingles whenever she thought about her and Ryan as a couple.

  “Did you have a good time?” Molly prodded.

  “Very good. The scenery was great.”

  Who was she kidding? Bridget had barely noticed the spectacular views. She’d been too busy laughing at Ryan’s jokes and going all soft inside at his smiles and drowning in his intense gaze while they walked the footpaths, leading their horses by the reins.

  “I’m glad for you, sis. You deserve a nice guy.”

  “This is still very new,” Bridget cautioned. “Don’t go sending out engraved invitations just yet.”

  She was working hard at not making more of her and Ryan’s relationship than there was: they were two people who clicked and enjoyed each other’s company. But ask her again in a few months, and she might have an entirely different answer.

  “What’s next on the agenda for today?” Molly asked. “A continuation of the date-that-isn’t-a-date, I hope.”

  “Well, I just put the horses away.”

  Bridget had unsaddled the horses and given them a good brushing down while Ryan met with the home inspectors. Not long after they’d returned from their ride, the two pair had pulled into the driveway, one right behind the other. Bridget had sent off Ryan to greet them and assumed charge of the horses.

  “After that,” Bridget continued, “I guess I’ll wait on Ryan and the inspectors.”

  “How’s that going, by the way?”

  “I can’t really tell.” She shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight and squinted at the house. “He’s still pacing in front of the ladder.”

  “The inspector? Why?”

  “No, Ryan. You’d think he hadn’t been through this three times before.”

  Bridget’s knowledge of real-estate sales was limited. But from what Ryan had told her, home inspections were routine. That way, the buyer was made aware of any problems before money changed hands, and the seller had the opportunity to make repairs or adjust the sales price accordingly.

  The buyer for Ryan’s property had insisted on both a general inspection and a more thorough plumbing inspection at the first available opportunity and at Ryan’s expense. The Chandler place was old and had been poorly maintained these last several years. Despite the buyer’s knowledge of the property’s history and present midrenovation condition, Ryan still worried the inspection results would affect the sale.

  Bridget worried, too, that they were counting too much on the outcome of this sale.

  “There shouldn’t be a problem,” she said, reassuring herself as much as her sister. “Supposedly the buyer is an experienced investor. He’s planning on completing the renovations himself.” Surely he wouldn’t balk at a few small problems.

  “I’m still trying to wrap my head around Ryan flipping houses,” Molly said. “It’s kind of cool. Maybe he could be on one of those cable TV shows.”

  “Yeah.” All joking aside, he was every bit as good-looking as that guy with the hit house-flipping series.

  “Would Ryan then buy a new property?”

  “That’s the idea.” Bridget reached into each horse’s water trough and scooped out the dried leaves that had fallen in. “Though he has to find the right one first.”

  “Then what?” Molly persisted. “You two getting married?”

  “One small step at a time.”

  Bridget liked daydreaming about walking down the aisle with Ryan and indulged frequently. She was also a realist.

  The next instant, a movement at the house caught her attention. “Oh, it looks like the guy’s climbing down from the roof.”

  “Call me later, okay?” Molly said. “Tell me how the inspection went.”

  They disconnected after saying goodbye. Bridget gave each horse a kiss on
the nose that they didn’t seem to mind, but didn’t enjoy, either. She missed riding regularly and was glad she and Ryan shared the same interest. Perhaps one day she could have her own horse again. When she and Ryan—

  Wait. Stop. Here she was getting ahead of herself and doing exactly what she’d warned her sister not to do.

  By now, the inspector on the roof had collapsed his ladder and his associate had come outside. Ryan met up with them, and the three men walked around the side of the house to the front. Bridget noted there was a lot of talking on Ryan’s part and expansive gesturing.

  She’d watched from a distance as he tried his best to assist both inspectors when they first arrived, offering his own ladder and the use of his tools. They’d declined, citing something about policy mandating they use their own equipment. Bridget suspected that what Ryan had really wanted was to be directly involved with the men’s inspections. Possibly read what the men were inputting into the electronic devices they carried or have a closer look at the images on the specialized cameras they used.

  She took the same path as Ryan and the men, rounding the corner of the house and entering the front yard in time to see Ryan making payment to each man and receiving paperwork in return. Then, the two men got in their respective trucks and drove away. Bridget made her way over to where Ryan stood, staring after the men as if he could divine what they were thinking.

  “Everything go okay?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.” His shoulders drooped. “They were as tight-lipped as they come. Said the buyer and I would each receive copies of the reports via email when they’re finalized.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Not for a couple of days from the home inspector. The plumbing report isn’t as long or involved. I could have it by this afternoon.”

  “Is it me or did they take a lot of pictures?”

  “That’s par for the course.” His frown increased. “But that one guy spent a lot of time on the roof. I know he’s going to find some holes. Or recommend replacing the air-conditioning unit. It’s old. He had a funny look on his face when he came down from the crawl space over the garage.”

  “What was that strange paddle thing the other guy had?”

  “An infrared camera. For detecting plumbing leaks. With my luck, I’ll have to tear out a wall to fix a faulty pipe”